Changing perspectives

by Coronet the lesser

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Sad, Other, Romance, Original Character, Spike, Rarity
Length: 12268

Spike has become disgruntled at his increasing size and feral ferocity which begins to isolate him from the world he grew up in. Increasingly desperate to find a sloution he turns to a mysterious traveling magician to get his answers

Spike has become isolated in his own home. Torn on the inside as he matures and his feelings grow more tempest towards those around him, he begins to look for a way to remain in the safe company of those he grew up around and to try and cure his 'cursed' existance. Continuing to lie to those around him as he searches for a remedy to his rapidly growing body and his strong possesive urges, he grows desperate. Upon hearing of an unusual traveling magician passing through, he decides to plead to the stranger for help. He gets more than he bargained for.

Soon he will have to choose between a life led by his own happiness or the happiness of those closest to him.

My first attempt at slightly longer fic. I'm going with a whole shady 'bargain' but not really at the same time. Once again rip me to shreds since it's my first time not writing a one shot.

*Edit* Adding the alt universe because its in the same universe its just things are changed after an event. It's explained later.

Published 2013-07-29 21:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-12 00:48:10 UTC

Into the dark.

Spike had entered the Everfree forest with determined bravery. The endless trees filled with seemingly brutish malcontent. It had not fazed him. As a eleven foot tall teenaged dragon, little bar his own kind could cause him great fear. Even then the goal he had in mind was far more important than the base instinct of fear. Though an old memory of a certain green dragon popped into his head and had managed to shake him a little but he pressed on regardless.

Despite this he still felt a great sense of unease. The forest was old and angry. Discord had always told Spike that the forest had a mind of its own. Discord said the forest had been there since before he had arrived on the planet and from what Spike had heard Discord was old. Like prehistoric old.

It had never changed from since he had first arrived in Ponyville almost ten years ago. It just grew and bulged on the edge of the town like a corrupt spider or a dormant giant. It was a threat but only to those who disturbed its sanctuary. The trees gave the illusion that the path within the forest was smaller than it really was and due to his height, Spike felt oddly claustrophobic. With that, something began kicking at the back of his mind. A primal instinct to avoid the forest pulled at his forethoughts. How had that old serpent in the cave lived here? How did any creature of logical or least contemporary thought lived here? But they did and the creatures within seemed bound to its borders.

It reminded him of another thing Discord said, something about how his magic never really worked within the vicinity of the forest. Old magic was the primary conclusion that Twilight had reached. For some reason the idea that there was magic beyond the normal comprehension of modern unicorns or even Twilight herself made his stomach churn.

He still pressed on. This was a something of personal importance towards him. It had involved the instinct that was currently bothering him. It had become regular problem of recent.

Despite having a larger room due to the extensive construction of the palace for Twilight, he still felt cumbersome around his smaller companions. His size was also becoming a problem for security reasons. Guards were becoming more and more irritated by Spikes constant presence and he had begun to notice a creeping contempt for him, radiating off them. Whisperings about how he had wasted court time through a recurring series of accidents that required Twilight to see him.

It wasn’t his fault usually. As mentioned most cases were accidents. Carts knocked over by a stray tail, damage to windows by his passing and occasinally a market stall set on fire. There was a growing concern about the welfare of children around a local dragon and had almost forced Spike into a not so much of a self-exile. He was at home but he knew, excluding a few, that he was not welcome. He knew also he was of limited use practically. He could no longer send letters for his claws had grown far too large to hold a quill. His fire breath was now a serious hazard and the work he had once been so committed to within Twilight’s personal library had been taken over by a flurry of attendants and scholars much to Spike’s contempt.

Twilight had always been light hearted about it. In truth she ignored the issue at hoof. All she saw was a slightly larger, clumsier version of her younger brother. She held him high regard and dismissed any ideas that her brother could be a liability or a threat towards the residents of Ponyville or her staff within the town. Of course his friends had backed him up, standing by his side whatever the incident may be. Luckily for Spike during the more serious forms of accidental property damage there were advantages to having a princess for a sister.

But he knew she couldn’t sweep everything under the carpet. There would come a time when she couldn’t fix everything and keep smiling as if nothing happened. There would come a time when he could no longer function within normal society.

The tell-tale signs were beginning to form as he matured sexually. While he had always held a great deal of self-control in regards to his maturity, his senses were becoming more primal. Things nowadays got him more angry or offended. He struggled to control his greed or to prevent himself from stealing. The court irritated him more. His paranoia about protecting the rapidly expanding town had grown tenfold.

The worst part was his protectiveness. He disliked new ponies around his friends. He began to uncomfortably think of them as his possessions and that new ponies were trying to steal from him. It sickened him. They were his friends, not property. It was at its worst around Twilight and Rarity.

He loved Twilight deeply but his agitation about constant guests had made Twilight's social interaction whether it be to court officials or petitioners made her job unnecessarily more difficult. She was still blind to it but the other princesses were not. The fact that he had once hissed at Luna for hugging Twilight unexpectedly was unacceptable.

Of course there had always been Rarity. In truth he was even more love with her than ever before. He just couldn’t accept natural facts. Even though she had often dropped hints towards the fact that she was not interested in him and saw him more as a friend. It had never sat right with him. Instead he persisted with denial and fantasy even beyond the point where anything consisting of a normal relationship was no longer possible.

He had consulted, who had admittedly become something of a budding uncle to him, Discord, about the possibility of reducing his size to a more manageable level. Discord declined to go ahead with such a procedure. It was according to him an almost impossible process to survive through and even if Spike did, he would be in excruciating pain for the rest of his days. Plus he would require additional magical procedure to maintain his size, once again enduring a very painful process. Discord also claimed that it would be too similar to the old days when he had a more twisted sense of personality.

He told Spike he would not go down that road again. But in truth Spike was already pressing down that road. A creature that burned down buildings, plundered castles and terrorized the country side. He was raised to think better but the pounding in his skull told him otherwise. He was a dragon no matter how long he had lived amongst ponies, a creature of greed and brimstone not the shining knight that Rarity wanted. The pony Rarity had wanted was the type of pony that killed creatures like Spike.

Spike was desperate. He began to travel under the pretence that he needed a short break. He hated lying to Twilight’s face but it was the only way to escape her surveillance. He visited great peaks filled with those of his kin, consulted amongst the greatest and oldest of them. He travelled to far off lands filled with strange creatures. He even took Zecora’s advice and visited the shamans of her homeland. The answer had always been the same no matter what. They could not help him. No one could have helped him they said. As a last resort he begged the Princesses. It had not boded well. The conversation rapidly turned into an argument that Spike regretted deeply. Words were exchanged that should not have been within hallowed halls. Spike had snapped at Celestia’s pragmatic and realist views. She had told him to move on from Rarity and look for a compatible mate.

He sat still in denial. He raged against the inevitable. He returned a defeated drake. But he put on a smile for Twilight and the others. He didn’t want them to know that he was at his breaking point. The love of his life was slipping through his claws. Rarity would find that special somepony soon. It wasn’t to be him.

The thought of her being with somepony else drove him to madness. He just wanted this one thing. He had never asked for much. He had been modest most of his life. He always strived to please even when his intensions were more than questionable. Yet fate had ignored him, left him to the side-lines. He had always been the third wheel, the surplus requirement, just the assistant to a greater pony. It was hard not to keep down his growing resentment.

A glimmer of hope had appeared before his return. A traveling magician had come by Ponyville. Unlike Trixie, Spike had heard that the being who had performed before the town was an extraordinary individual. Apparently a creature of many talents, rumours gave great acclaim to whoever it was. Twilight still held him as a trickster but the town was less sure. Many claimed he was a gifted wizard from a faraway land, or a spirit wrapped in black cloth. Discord, in a rare moment of seriousness, warned those in the town and Twilight herself, that he got a weird feeling from this individual. That rang alarm bells for Spike. For a being as old as Discord to feel at discomfort around what was just supposed to be a simple traveling magician gave Spike some desperate hope.

That was why he had taken the path to the forest. He was deep within its hold. That was in itself an oddity. Few were insane enough to even contemplate entering the deepest reaches of the forest. Had it been anything else Spike would have waited until a more suitable time to visit. It was winter and the forest seemed to react more violently towards the cold weather but Spike was in a hurry. The magician would be gone soon if the stories were true. Spike needed to change; he needed to become what he had always desired to be.

He needed to become a pony or at least something within the realms of normality. Not a hunkering death machince. He would change. He'd have his happily ever after. Damned be the consequences.

Author's Note

Eh just kind of the start of it really. Felt i should get some of Spikes views out there and why he's despairing. really just an introduction and where Spike stands roughly eight years in the future. he's a troubled dragon because he is torn between the instinct and his raising. i know the show dealt with it but it never really explains what will happen when Spike is a little less controlable and friendly.

Once again criticism is welcome. I'll get another chapter done over the next few days. Chapters will be short enough.

No laughing matter

Spike had now entered the darkest part of the forest. Little light penetrated the thick canopy. Had it not been for his more keen vision, he would have probably been fumbling around in the dark. The idea of being lost within the forest was a terrifying prospect especially since the winter months had been bad this year. There were a lot of desperate predators out there.

The trees were larger near the steps of the mountains. They reached almost surreal heights. Their bark was as black as ash and felt coarse and uneven to his claws. Occasionally he felt the small prick of a particularly nasty plant when he rested his weight on one of the giant tree trunks.

He needed to catch his breath. Rather than the smooth but admittedly foul smelling air of the outer reaches of the forest, the air deep within was thick and heavy. Spike’s lungs were far larger than that of normal ponies but even he required some semblance of an atmosphere. It was if the process of photosynthesis had been reversed. The forest appeared to steal the very air from him.

He pondered briefly how a normal pony would fair this far in. It was a morbid thought. If the shifting shadows were not enough to put ones nerves on edge, not doubt the thin level of oxygen would no doubt have caused some form hallucination.

He lifted himself off the tree and kept a steady if cautions pace towards his destination. There were worse things than Timberwolves that resided in the dark places of the world. He blew fire briefly through his nose to give a bit more light. The path had seemed to curve slightly to the right. A somewhat eerie glow emanated from the abrupt turn. Spike went down on all fours. He disliked doing so since he had always walked on two legs. He had never questioned his preference before. It was an old habit that he had doubted he'd ever let go of.

This was different though, he felt threatened and if the glow came from an Ursa, he had learned to make himself look as big as possible so the Ursa would not consider him prey. His back legs were raised with his front and forearms pressed near the floor giving the illusion of a charging motion. His wings were raised covering his relatively thin form. Despite his instincts, he resisted the urge to growl. If he had done so he could have given away his position or alerted the possible Ursa. Instead he blew out a controlled stream of fire, preparing to launch it should he be provoked. A nagging thought told him it was a bad idea for some reason.

After a moment of utter silence, the glow had still not move around the bend. No sounds or movements could be distinguished from it. Though Spike swore he heard a soft humming sound. Spike snorted loudly, dislodging a few flames from his snout as he did so. He felt slightly embarrassed of fearing what was not truly there. He was a dragon for divine’s sake. ‘I should fear nothing,’ popped out an arrogant thought from the back of his mind. He regretted his momentary hubris almost immediately.

The trees began to creak and shake. There were deep and primal booming sounds surrounding him like the cracking of bark or the bending of wood. His ears perked up as he swore he heard something equivalent to a voice but was distorted by the groan of the earth. The forest was disturbed by something.

‘Damn, the fire, I can’t breathe fire near the trees!’ Spikes rushed thoughts cobbled together. He quickly covered his snout with his claws and took short breaths while trying to calm his growing desire to fly away. Looking at the canopy it seemed so thick he doubted even as a large dragon, he would struggle to break through it. Even if he could it took him within reach of the branches which seemed less than courteous as they began to curl and twist slightly as if moving of their own accord.

His flashes of fire had somehow roused the trees. Their anger awakened by the foreign agent within their midst. Stories came of a kind of sentient intelligence the forest had devloped and an aggressive stance towards those who threatened its existence. There were stories ranging back hundreds of years.

The old stories didn’t do the place justice. Apparently when the old castle was up and running in the safer part of the forest, Celestia had tried to destroy more of it, so settlers could have new farming lands. When she did, the forest grew back stronger than ever and workers started disappearing along its back roads. She repeated the process again but when it grew back this time it took an entire mining facility near its borders. Apparently two hundred ponies were working there at the time. They had all vanished within one evening, their tools lying where they left them. Celestia never went after the forest again.

Spike shuddered. The forest from what he could garner was not evil but it was definitely not friendly. For a being that basically lived and breathed fire quite literally, this was not a place where he would make friends anytime soon.
He held himself in place, resuming his stance on two legs and kept his distance from the trees on the sides of the path. The groaning began to wind down until eventually the heavy silence returned over the old wood. No animal stirred. Spike relaxed his shoulders.

‘That was close.’ He returned to face the path and with slow trepidation carried on towards the unusual lights. The hum grew louder within his ears. It annoyed him greatly and he scratched his ear in displeasure. It was not the hum of a harmonic song but rather a ringing sound that filled his skull with nausea. During his moment of rest he had failed to notice a rather large Timberwolf regarding him slightly from the tree line.

Spike turned to it upon receiving the familiar scent of rotting leaves and damp wood. It remained still fresh in his memories to this day. Except while at that time he was but a mere baby and could not hope to fight a Timberwolf head on, now the advantage was in Spike’s court. But he was still wary of the trees. Unlike the wolf, Spike doubted his ability to tackle the behemoths even with dragon fire on his side.

The wolf did nothing but continue to stare absently at Spike. Its green eyes glowed with distrust but it knew that Spike was not viable prey. It was far more content to watch the young dragon and see if he would become vunerable.

Spike was unsure of what course of action should be taken. The lone wolf could alert a pack which could have been more trouble for him. But then again he had fire on his side. Also the wolf seemed as hesitant to act around the trees as he was. Spike decided to back away slowly and continue on his way.There was no point in starting a conflict despite his dislike of the wolves. ‘Don’t get any stupid ideas you oversized hedge growth,’ mentally berating the creature.

The wolf continued to examine the drake. It had upset the trees no doubt but the dragon seemed intelligent enough not to act violently around them. But the wolf knew what path the fire breather was taking. He only needed the foolish dragon to make one mistake. Then he would get his mouthful. The trees could have the rest.

Spike ignored the wolf in order to retain his courage on continuing with his quest. He started by retaking the path he had held prior to the encounter. The glowing corner still lay ahead of him. His curiosity overcame his initial fear. Approaching at a tentative pace, he stumbled slightly around the bend as he felt it drop more sharply than expected to some kind sinkhole about three feet deep. It was enough for him to extend his arms out to prevent him from landing on his face.

Nonetheless the sight that greeted him was strange to say the least. A small pale green glow surrounded him. The glow came from an assortment of petite if not striking flowers. Each had large green leaves surrounding the underbelly of the flower but its surface was sticky and felt odd in its consistency. The flower itself had hundreds of glowing petals of varying size curling in towards the stigma slightly.

Spike had landed in a large bed of them. Before he could return to a standing position, each flower began to uncurl. The simultaneous reaction disturbed Spike for some reason. He had heard Fluttershy describe many types of flowers but these were unique. They were reacting to his presence. Each one then gave a ‘pomf’ sound before releasing a small cloud of spores.

Spike was unconcerned at first. Probably something like poison joke. Considering his more powerful immune system, he had assumed that he was immune to its effects. Yet he couldn’t hold back a cough.

‘Stupid flowers,’ he thought yet that could not hold back another cough as he tried to raise himself again. He fell again by accident when one of his legs buckled but pulled himself up. His right arm was trembling violently and his cough was increasing in frequency. ‘Probably just an allergic reaction.’

The dismissive thoughts were growing less clear as the ‘reaction’ got more violent. Spike fell to his knees. His eyes were blurred by a stinging substance. He fell to the floor grasping his throat as he felt his wings flail uselessly. His body was in total lockdown. The strength that he had become accustomed to over the years failed him. Spike couldn’t get up. ‘Something in the flowers, sweet Celestia, I can’t breathe.’

Spikes choking sounds filled the flower bed as the flowers retracted. Spike could only see the edge of his vision that the Timberwolf had retreated to a safe distance. Whether it be through a hallucination caused by the reaction or the desperate panic rocking his mind, he swore he saw it grin wildly before retreating from view and into the shadows.

He was still conscious though, just completely paralyzed. It would be amusing if it weren’t so serious. A dragon felled by a few flowers. He’d be a laughing stock if he lived with amongst his own kind. Yet this was no laughing matter for Spike. He was effectively defenceless for Celestia knows how long in the most dangerous and feral part of the Everfree forest.

He laid there for over thirty seconds before final a part of his body began to register his brains increasingly desperate commands. His left hand currently lying uselessly over the garden bed twitched. His natural resistance to disease and pathological agents was finally kicking in. ‘About damned time, good thing that buzzard ran off, he could have left a nasty bite.’

Spike felt his head lift slightly and then felt his back raise followed by a ‘crack’. Spike paused. ‘Please tell me I just didn’t break something.’ Yet the cracks continued. Spike looked towards the disturbance while waiting to regain control of his legs and wings.

There was massive tree moving towards him at rather heated pace. It lurched forward from its perch into the flower bed. The flowers withered around it. Its roots lunged out slightly pulling at his numbed legs and with unexpected ease and started to drag Spike closer to it.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me. I travel through the most dangerous territory in Equestria and of all the things; a tree tries to kill me. This is certainly a first.’ But Spike had underestimated the rather massive monolith of a tree as the feeling in his legs returned. He felt pain to which he could scarcely describe. His roars echoed across the forest. He didn’t care much for the noise he caused as everything was replaced by severe pain shooting through his legs.

It was crushing him but very slowly to make sure he felt every agonising second of the process. If it weren’t for his tough scales, his legs would be little more than paste at that moment.

He clawed viciously at the roots but his attempts were futile. He was being pulled more quickly as the tree’s rumbling anger became clearer to him. He realised that the flower bed was some sort of trap for those foolish enough to take the path. Spike roared again as it grabbed his midsection. He felt the air escape his lungs as what he could only assume was the weight of a three ton boulder pushed down on his rib cage.

He had managed to cut many of the smaller roots but it had seemed to have only incensed the tree further. Spike looked on as his still numb wing got caught and was twisted into an awkward position while he was being dragged. He definitely heard it rip. Spike cursed loudly.

His attempts to summon his fire were faltering. The green flames cut out before he could manifest them into any more than a short burst which just singed the hard wood which held strength that could break steel and crush rock with ease. He tried again but it was like trying to getting a faltering lighter to work. Twilight had explained to him how it worked many years ago but he fell asleep during the lecture.

‘Come on Spike, you can do this.’ It cut out again and the tree gripped tighter as a lighter root grabbed his neck. He resisted the urge to choke. ‘You can’t die in the mud like this you have to get up you stupid dragon.’ A bigger flame was belched but not enough to stop the tree’s progress. Spike gave a defiant roar pulled back with all of his remain muscles and thoughts about why he was here in the first place, finally managed to give him the push needed to let loose a torrent of inferno onto the unsuspecting tree.

The green flames enveloped it. Its grip lessened and it began to wail furiously as it pulled back from Spike. The pain of fire had overcome its hatred. It shook violently and Spike felt its roots quiver before they fell limply from him. The flames petered out as the tree fled at a slow and miserable pace to its place above the drop. Spike could hear its bubbling misery beneath the groans of anguish and after a few moments it had returned to perfect stillness upon its perch above the flower bed.

“Guess Discord was right when he said this place had a mind of its own,” Spike chuckled weakly under his increasingly ragged breath. Spike hobbled his way out of the death trap. One of his wings was shattered; his legs felt like that had been put in a vice and he felt incredibly winded by the whole affair. While his rage demanded that he turn his fury onto the flower bed which had put him in such a position, he was neither in any condition to act upon his rage nor did he wish to do harm to them. It was Spike’s clumsiness and invasion of their home that resulted in the way they acted. In truth he’d be the same if it was Ponyville.

With home in mind Spike was even more so desperate to finish his journey and return to his life, whether it be the life he desired or the life that he was stuck with was resting on what happened next. ‘Hope he’s medically trained,’ Spike thought as he regarded his wings. He also hoped that this had not been a waste of time and that the faith he had put in this journey would result in his dividend. The path led to a clearing upon which Spike hear the distinct sound of whistling.

Author's Note

Yeah I know its more of a filler chapter than an advancement of the story but I felt like it was a necessary chapter. We'll get around to the start of the plot in the next chapter.

Yeah, may be quite a few mistakes again. I really need to get around to getting an editor or just need to stop being lazy. I should also change the summary since it only really deals with the problems in the introduction. I'll get around to it.

Hope you enjoy the chapter. Once agian apologies for the filler.

Good Morning

Spike emerged from the darkness in to a surprisingly open and bright clearing. He was unsure how the light had not penetrated through the trees. Up until the opening of the clearing it had remained pitch black, yet within a couple of metres the atmosphere changed rapidly.

The air felt cool and refreshing within the clearing. He could see the light of the sun’s rays dressing the seemingly untouched patch of land. It was early morning, because while the sun was out it was still cold and its brightness had not yet filled the land. It was still relatively greyish. Yet the relief that flooded Spike upon seeing light again could not be put into words. It was if by entering the clearing he’d shed a great weight hanging over him. The terror of the forest steadily passed.

Still Spike stumbled and fell occasionally as his wounds continued to harass him. He was losing a good bit of blood which came out in this out blackish red form. It left a steady trail behind him. If it were not for his preoccupation with comprehending this oasis of land, he’d have worried that he left a bread trail for any predator to follow him.

The peaceful chirp of birds, the sound of the wind on his ears and the smell of the fresh air he had been separated from for a significant amount of time gave him a renewed sense of calm but he could not ignore it was morning something which surprised him greatly. ‘Must have been walking for nearly eight hours? How is that possible? It felt like only a quarter of that time.’ Spike suddenly felt his hunger return as well as his other senses. He looked back at the still pitch black forest. He shivered violently.

As he hobbled down the path he finally decided to direct his listening towards the whistling sound. In the middle of the clearing stood alone caravan, it was larger than Trixie’s had been but certainly not large enough to accommodate Spike. Still it reminded him of the library in a way.

It had ornamental carvings dressing it, they formed strange runic patterns that from a distance seemed to be no more than scribbles adorning its side. It was made of dark wood of similar build to that of the tree that had just attacked Spike. The patterns were still discernible because of their colour. They were designed a brilliant gold that glowed with shimmering beauty. They changed hue when he shifted his head but the gold was the most noticeable of the colours from Spike’s position.

The roof of the traveling cart was a dulled red with a small pole standing erect at the centre. An odd flag of purple with a red eye sat in its centre. Spike presumed it indicated the magician’s status as a mystic. The mystic eye was a popular representation within the non-magical community of the arcane but to most magic users it was an insulting symbol of prejudice. It was essentially used as a label to all those that used magic as shut-ins and eccentric spell casters. It had deep and ugly historical roots. Twilight had refused its design, outside of the necessary buildings, to be within her palace. She said it gave her the creeps.

There was a sufficient campfire a few metres from it. It was out at the moment but some wood sat by its side. There was also a washing basket not far from the caravan. It was unattended currently. The only luxury present was a fairly nice looking couch opposite to the unlit fire.

Spike tried to move forward but gasped in pain as his ankle gave way again. He wouldn’t last long without medical attention. Spike shrugged off the pain and grabbed an extremely large but sturdy branch fallen from a dead tree. He used as a makeshift cane even though it was too small. He leaned down a bit to give it a better fit. Spike never noticed that tiny sparkles of magic began closing his gaping wounds ever so slowly.

Spike felt a lot stronger for some reason. His exhaustion was lifting with every step. ‘Must be my natural resilience. Still that wouldn’t explain why the pain is fading. I know I got hit badly by that tree but it doesn’t look like I’m dying yet.’ Still the makeshift cane was needed for the final few steps.

Spike wanted to call out but stopped shorty as he felt a scratch on his leg. He looked down and much to his surprise one of his wounds had disappeared. There was no scar nor wound or even a scab. The oddest thing was that the broken scales also began to fix themselves. A new gleaming set emerged to where previously there had been a deep wound.

‘This is getting weird. Maybe coming here was the brightest idea.’ Spike shook his head. ‘You made your choice to go this far. You’re not turning back empty handed.’ Spike looked contemptibly at his claws, each finger as sharpest the greatest blades made by mortal hands. ‘Not this time.’

A few moments of slow progress passed as Spike neared the wheeled house. With each minute a wound reclosed and Spike felt himself straighten his back. He discarded his cane and had returned to his standing stance. He felt like he did before the attack. Spike knew that no healing factor outside perhaps a magically enhanced one could fix such deliberating injuries. Dragons were no exception. Spike had never heard of any dragon that healed with a fifteen minute timeframe. This was the work of someone else’s magic. The same magic that could push back the most dangerous trees the forest could offer, the same magic that could create this clearing in the heart of the old forest, the same magic that made the Magician a figue of complete and utter mystery even to the most powerful of beings. Spike was less confident about his encounter now.

“Good morning!”

“Huh?” questioned Spike. He rapidly searched for the epicentre of the greeting. His eyes passing over all the materials he previously pondered upon. His eyes came to rest on the couch which now housed a robed figure waving slightly with a raised claw.

“I said good morning master dragon! Unless you are not having a good morning which seems to be the case then I have been presumptuous in my greeting.” The figure turned his robed head to look over Spike. Spike felt uneasy for some reason, he still couldn’t see the magician’s face. “But yet is it not a fine morning? For I have had a fine morning nonetheless so I will still wish my pleasantries upon you if you forgive me for such an observation.” Silence remained momentarily between them. Spike decided to speak.

“Ehh...good morning, I guess.”

“Well good morning then.”

Spike was still unsure what to make of the creature before him. He moved forward to see the Magician better. The creature had spoken with a deep male voice but was light enough not to seem threatening. The voice was distorted but Spike assumed that was because of the distance between them .He had black claws that reminded Spike of his own claws but smaller in stature. The figure had a draconic snout like Spike again but that was all that Spike could truly see.

The figure still was looking squarely at Spike. The most startling feature was the Magician’s eyes. They were tiny but in the dark surrounding his face and snout glowed rather menacingly. It included tiny turquoise blue irises and two almost unnoticeable white pupils. The eyes looked sunken in. It was in truth an intimidating sight for the young dragon. The eyes reminded him of Sunset Shimmer’s demonic form. He shuddered at the memory slightly.

“If you’re quite done looking at me with suspicious intent, I was going to ask you whether you wanted a drink,” said the Magician. Spike was caught off guard by the break in silence and struggled to get his words out.

No-uh thank-long- just *cough*…I’m fine,” he squeezed out. The creature shrugged before facing away from Spike. Spike raised an eyebrow in response ‘Is he just going to carry on like nothing happened?’ The creature leaned over to a barrel pulled out something with his claws, set it aside before pulling out a wooden box and carefully lifting up an old looking wooden pipe. He placed the stuff he took from the barrel into the pipe’s front and took a match from under his robe. The match lit of its own accord before he placed it into the front of the pipe and finally placed the pipe in his mouth. Spike was incredulous. He did not just wander through the forest to see this apparently ‘wondrous’ Magician smoke.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

“Ah good morning!”

Spike’s head fell into his claws. His frustration was building every second he stood by watching the Magician continue on with his meaningless task. He tried to intervene again and hopefully get a conversation going that would lead to Spike requesting his aid.

“Look I’ve come a long way I just want-”

“You smoke?”

“No, why would you ask th-…I didn’t even dragons could smoke…wait a second you’re getting me off topic…”

“Terrible habit I picked up from my youth, never managed to kick it. Suppose I’m too old to let go of it now,” the Magician sighed despondently before taking a puff of his pipe. The smoke shaped into a snake apparition before floating off. Spike meanwhile was steaming with rage. The temptation to fry the magician if he interrupted Spike again was tempting but Spike realised he needed him for now despite his seemingly eccentric tendancies.

“Look as much as I love small chat, I’ve not come here to keep you company.”

“Good, I’m afraid I find you’re company quite lacking master dragon.”

“We’ve only been talking for less than a minute, how in divines name can you judge my company when I’ve only just met you?!” seethed Spike. He was now seriously considering whether he should put the Magician on a spit over fire or launch him into the stratosphere. His eyes turned to slits. The fire within his chest was growing. He’d make this creature grovel for disrespecting a dragon.

At the last moment Spike resisted. He was mortified how close he’d come to assaulting a creature who had in truth done no harm to him. A petty insult, was that all it took now to set him off. Spike felt dizzy. The rage of emotions within him was turning into an ugly battle for dominance. Spike’s moral side taught to him by Twilight and the inner beast side of his primal nature which was desperate for release after years of being contained.

“Well first you come onto my land uninvited, secondly you leave a blood trail for any predator to follow to me and lastly you just contemplated killing me for no other reason than because I insulted you and you feel superior to me.” The Magician took another puff. Spike was aghast.

“How did you know I wanted to hurt you?” Spike questioned but much to his annoyance the Magician did not answer but rather faced away from him and did nothing for a while before returning to Spike.

“I know things, I’m sure you understand that by now. Let’s say I have a unique understanding of things. Your kind is one of those things.”

“You know of my kind? They have never spoken of you when I visited them.”

“You didn’t ask the right questions then. Anyway they usually leave me alone. Most dragons are superstitious, dislike beings like me wandering about. They call me old Cronos or Khronos; have never really found out whether it be an insult or a gesture of affection. Lucky for me then that I’ve found ponies to be far more open. They’ve changed very much down the years.They're a far softer race now”

“So I take it you’re quite old then?”

At that the creature’s eyes glinted with Spike could only describe as mischievousness and pondering. It reminded him of Celestia in a way. After a long moment the creature quietly answered.

“Yes I suppose you could say that.”

The old mage stood up and stretched before returning to his seat. Spike managed to gauge his height and appearance more clearly for the first time. The mage was taller than an alicorn prehaps even Celestia but he was shorter than Spike and Discord by a considerable bit. His back was bent and he had kind of a lurch. His arms were long though, both long enough to hang just above the knee. His legs were covered but Spike knew they were double jointed like a dragons. That meant he looked like he was crouching when he really wasn’t. His waist looked thin compared to the surprisingly broad shoulders he had. Spike could have mistaken the mage for a drake only a few years younger than him in different circumstances.

“What’s your name then if it is not Cronos?”

“I don’t give names idly, to give ones name away is to give one the keys to your life. Well for me anyway.”

“Fine suit you yourself.”

“Most just merely call me the magician. You may call me by my draconic name or the name of ‘Set’ if it so pleases you.”

“Why Set?”

“It was a name a bunch of monks and priests gave to me a long time ago. I have forgotten its meaning. I have many names. Some are more diverse than others. I care little for titles. A being’s worth is measured by the strength of their will, with that names are not as important to me as they are to others.”

“I suppose that’s fair. Let’s keep it at Magician for now.”

“Seems a bit detached, don’t you think?”

“That’s because I still don’t trust you.”

“Fine but what about your name drake?”

“Spike.”

“That is an odd name for a dragon. I’m presumably correct in assuming you were not raised in the dragon lands.”

“No born and raised by ponies.”

“As a pet?”

“No as an equal.”

“Fascinating.”

Spike stood for a few moments. He was anxious to proceed. The creature seemed amiable enough but Spike could not shake the feeling that this had been a mistake. His resolve had been shaken by the eccentric and mysterious nature of his host.

“The forest leaves you be. Why?”

“It knows its place, I know mine, and we both avoid each other because of it.”

“What exactly is the place of a traveling magician?”

Spike received no reply bar an indignant huff and more smoke produced from the pipe. A flock of birds passed overhead to which Spike watched with passing interest. They were followed by two swans which passed overhead. Spike watched the two head off to whatever patch of water they could find, side by side, together, forever bound to each other. His heart shattered a little as he watched them.

“The same place that you are in my boy.”

“What?”

Spike returned to watching the mage smoke as his question lingered in the air. Spike once again felt out of place. The clearing was like living in another world. Unlike when he visited the human world, Spike was unsure if his thoughts and feelings were his own and whether they’re sanctity was being preserved. His was playing by someone else’s rules and he didn’t like it.

“I said boy that you are out of place, lost, without meaning or purpose.” The Magician looked up. He put down his pipe and carefully returned it to its box which he placed to the side of the couch. He placed both of his claws on his knees and analysed Spike with his beady eyes. “You were raised by ponies, a dragon born with morals and high upper class social standing.” He wheezed as if he found the idea of a civilised dragon amusing to himself, slapping his knee with his right arm. Spike clenched his fists. “But know, oh yes; know you are fading from their world. What is it, ah yes, a monster if you will indeed. For you are a predator amongst prey. Afraid of yourself, you’ve become like an animal in a cage of his own making. Yet they don’t see the good side all they see is the ugly and in the end that’s what you become. The animal they fear so much is the animal you’ll eventually become and all because you got the short end of the straw on the evolutionary scale. It’d be funny if it weren’t so sad,” the Magician spat the final words.

The mage’s eyes flamed and his fists shook but he held a cruel smile which he directed at Spike. Spike’s anger began tip as each new sentence hit his ear drums. He felt the fire in his stomach rage against his will. Spike tried one last time to stop himself.

“Stop,” said Spike calmly. Much to his surprise the Magician stopped shaking and collapsed backwards as if he had been expecting Spike to lash out but was suprised when he did not. Spike calmed himself once more. The Magician instead leaned back into the couch. He had a pensive frown across his muzzle as he leaned on his left hand heavily.

“I apologize, I may have caused insult. Do not blame me, as I said old habits die hard, I have tendency to be cruel on occasion but alas it is only because I understand your point of view,” he sighed. He stared a Spike with his sunken but now clearly sad eyes. “Not every creature is as accepting as these ponies here are. I’ve seen too many dark days. I need some rest. Sadly my show must go on. There is no rest for the wicked.”

“I accept your apology, but as you probably know I’m not just passing through. I have come here for a reason. In a way you’re right I am fading.” Spike felt his stomach drop. Words were becoming hard to place in coherent sentences as sadness and bitterness took hold. “I’m running out of time.”

“You are not dying are you? I have not sensed that since you have entered my domain.”

“No, but I may as well if I have to abandon everything I love.”

“I do not understand then, I am no therapist. I cannot guide you through your problems or deal with your anger.”

“But you are skilled at magic. I’ve heard you can do things no other can do. This is why I have come to you. I need help.”

“I have no help to offer; you are not ill nor are you sick of mind. I cannot aid you. You should return home to your loved ones. No doubt they miss you.”

“I WON’T GO BACK TO HER LIKE THIS!” roared Spike. He had knocked the Magician over with the power of his voice but Spike was still too enraged to care. He smashed the ground with all his might. His fists burned but the ground was imprinted by two large dents in the soil. Spike spat fire from his mouth as he trembled violently. “I’m sick is what I am. You said so yourself. I don’t want to leave…ever. I don’t want to be a dragon. I want to be with her. But I can’t because I’m some sick beast. A monster.” The Magician remained silent and allowed Spike to continue.

“I can’t wait until I make a mistake; I can’t wait until I accidently kill somepony and have to be let into the wild like a feral animal. I have tried everything and failed. You are my last resort. I need you to set things right. I want you to give me the life I want…no…the life I deserve.”

Spike got on his knees. His two claws were crossed and he held his arms a few metres away from the Magician. He seemed surprised by the whole ordeal. Spike’s wings were hanging limply at his sides. His image would have been of pure misery had it not been for the fact that his size made it awkward.

“What do you want me to do child?”

“I want you to make me a pony.”

Author's Note

Well here is the first part of two. Sorry if it feels a bit awkward. I had to rewrite it like five times and even then I was unhappy with the finish. The next chapter I'm hoping will be significantly better.

Also once again point out my error's. It'll teach me to stop being lazy and finally do some real editing.

Hope you enjoy. Ciao.

Within grasp

“You want me to what?”

“Turn me into pony or something along those lines.”

The Magician seemed surprised. His eyes were shifting slightly as if he was calculating an advanced equation. His hands occasionally shook and his claws shifted up and down. His head was raised but he looked straight through Spike. He was deep in thought. Eventually he righted himself and did something Spike did not expect. He laughed.

“Hah! Turn you into a pony. That’s a good one. Next you will be telling me you want t the keys to gate of Tartarus itself.” The Magician moved away from Spike still laughing in a depraved way that made Spike wince. Still it did not sate the dragon’s anger at being so blatantly mocked for his request.

“You find something funny about my request old man,” Spike hissed through gritted teeth. The Magician turned around in disbelief at Spike’s anger and his mouth curled into a scowl as he faced the dragon.

“I dislike ignorance master Spike. Do not play the fool in front of me.”

“THE FOOL,” Spike bellowed, shaking the trees with his voice as he brought himself to full height and stomped closer to the Magician. To any other creature the sight would have inspired great terror.

After all dragons were the fiercest of all known magical beings that existed outside of the divines themselves. It was claimed within rumours that there existed certain dragons whose power was even greater than that of the princesses yet Spike had not such dragons. Most of the true ancient dragons were said to have disappeared into the darkest places of the world where no mortal would dare tread. It was said that they would reside there till the world went cold and the last light faded from existence. Spike believed them to be merely legends.

“I AM NO FOOL; I DID NOT COME HERE TO BE MOCKED!”

“I’m not mocking you master dragon. I merely find your request ridiculous. You ask me to do the impossible. I’m sorry if this sad truth upsets you.”

“Surely there are other ways,” Spike squawked desperately. “There has to be. I was not lying when I said I have exhausted all other options. There just has to some form of magic that can help me.” Spike gulped and shut his eyes as he prepared to cross a line he had previously been unwilling to resort to. “Even if it has to be the dark arts.”

The Magician’s reaction was disturbingly calm. He turned his body to Spike and with some long strides returned to his seated position only to get out of said seated position again and began to pace. He repeated the process a couple of times as the steam rising from Spike began to fade. Eventually after returning to the seated position on the couch again for the fourth time an even reply came from the Magician.

“Do you know of Tierak, Spike?”

Spike honestly had no idea how to respond to the question. It seemed so far out of context his mind immediately went back to the idea that the Magician was toying with him. Spike decided to answer the question anyway. The Magician had not been straight forward with Spike since the beginning; he would not be straight forward with Spike now.

“The dark lord from like ten thousand years ago, yeah I know him. I thought he was just a kid’s story up until recently. Discord told me a bit about him.”

“Oh he was more than real, a megalomaniac warlord with a nasty taste for torture He was always full of delusions of world domination. I’m sure Discord knows well of him.

You see while he was wagering his wars he ultimately tried to win the dragon lords over to his side when things got particularly ugly.” The Magician assumed a lecturing stance not too dissimilar from a certain purple alicorn as he paced over to the cabin. He entered before exiting a few moments later with an ancient book in hand. He flipped through its pages sporadically, usually stopping on an illustration.

One that caught Spike’s eye was an illustration of the dark lord himself, a tall centaur that dwarfed the bodies of the ponies that lay broken beneath him in the illustration. The curled horns and the disfigured face was enough to make Spike grimace. He also was also wielding the infamous dark rainbow which curled around him like a great snake.

A weapon created presumably by Tierak that had gained fame as the first know weapon of mass destruction the world had ever seen. It was rumoured to be the opposite of the Elements of Harmony but that was apparently false considering the Elements were the oldest known magical artefacts to pony kind. They predated the tales of Tierak and his dark rainbow by a considerable bit.

“He failed but in truth it was no surprise.” The Magician snorted and spat on the ground. “He was an arrogant fool. The dragons serve no one let alone the self-proclaimed ‘king of the earth’. Tierak of course being the obnoxious sociopath that he was threw a tantrum and killed a few thousand prisoners in response.”

The Magician chuckled deeply as if he had just heard a funny joke that he had only got well after it was told. Spike felt a bit sick at the idea of death being discussed so casually. Murders in Equestria were rare and when they occurred it was often national news. The only place within Equestria, Spike knew where crime and murder were substantially larger problems were the border towns near the griffin kingdoms or the far off countryside. Even then Spike doubted they had the level of crime that the Equestria’s neighbours were plagued with. Then again their neighbours never had to deal with old tyrants and spirits rising from the grave. The whole subject of wholesale execution made him uneasy. He decided to try and steer the story away from its dark roots.

“I don’t see the relevance of this story.”

“The relevance comes in what happened after the dark lord’s failure. He instead attempted to breed a mix breed through dark magic. The perfect soldier if you will, who had the ferocity of a dragon but the loyalty of his own followers. While he succeeded in creating such monstrosities, they were little more than broken versions of the ones he envisioned. Sad, mentally deranged creatures that were as much a hindrance to the war effort as they were an advantage to it. Tierak ultimately had at least enough good sense to scrap the project.”

“Why did they fail?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.” The Magician looked pleased as relaxed back into the couch. “They failed because he had not taken into account that dragon magic was sturdier than he had previously perceived. Dragons do not seem the spell casting type yet they ooze magic like no other. Their latent magic is enough to overwhelm even the greatest mage or demigod. Heck, all the pent up magic within you alone would be enough to lay waste to Canterlot itself.” Spike was taken aback by the new information but was equally sceptical as he was intrigued.

“If that is true then why dragons haven’t simply taken over the world if they are so powerful,” countered Spike. The Magician grinned in return.

“Just because they have great stores of magic doesn’t mean they can utilise it. Dragons are just among a selective group which are made up from the oldest and most powerful forms of magic like this forest.” He waved his hand towards the trees. “Dragons likely cannot harness this power because they were simply not meant to.”

“So you’re saying that somehow the natural magic, upon which my kin is made up of, interfered with the changing process.”

“Precisely! Though I’m surprised this information had not already been known to you within your home lands.”

“Ponies know little about dragons except basic biology. I mean they have met dragons but never studied a live one in detail. As far as I know I’m the only legally known dragon resident in Equestria. Twilight was always saying no to researchers about possible tests being run on me when I was young. I never liked any of them. They didn’t see me as person. They just saw a…thing.”

Spike got lost in painful memories. It had always been hard for him even before the growth spurt. There had always been an ambitious scientist or a xenophobic noble who made him feel out of place. Usually they were drowned out by all the good ponies but still he would be lying if he said it didn’t sting from time to time.

As he grew he had learned to ignore such harsh words but that was harder now considering some of those same words were now coming from ponies he knew. Ponies he grew up around. Good ponies, with good families and kids, ponies who now cursed his existence as a ‘public menace’. Old wounds started reappearing again.

The Magician decided to not pursue why the dragon was now silent on the issue of the ignorance of ponies about his kin. It had not seemed to be a pleasant topic for the dragon to converse on so the Magician garnered it wise to carry on with his previous story.

“Anyway, the story of Tierak and the dragon is of significance to your tale boy because it points out an undeniable fact. I cannot influence you with magic. Dark or otherwise. It would either drive you insane or worse. I shudder to think of the consequences.Perhaps I could change you temporarily but in the end your natural magic will always overpower mine unless I of course kill you,” the Magician wheezed in euphoria. The joke fell flat as all that was returned to him was the face of defeat. It quickly changed into something akin to angry desperation like a child telling itself that the fish in the bowl isn’t dead long after it has stopped moving.

“You’re lying. You have to be. You said there is a temporary way than why not a permanent. You’re hiding something .Something that can help me. I can usually sense when someone is lying to me.”

“Weren’t you listening I said-.”

“Don’t give me that crap. I’ve heard the rumours. You can tell me all you want about conventional magic. I’ve heard it over and over from Discord and Twilight,” Spike hissed violently spitting at the Magician. He raised his claw and tapped the Magician’s chest. “You can do things. Ponies and other creatures go to you when they need something they want. You get it done. Don’t think I came into this blind old man.”

Spike’s voice edged on the verge of sinister it was so low and deep. His threatening stance was reassumed. Spike knew that he had called the Magician’s bluff after all, the natural laws of magic had never seemed to apply to this stranger before why all of a sudden now.

Spike had expected a chuckle or maybe indignant denial but that was not what he saw in those creepy little eyes. He saw something that shook his brain for some reason. Pure unadulterated rage. It was clear that whatever Spike had said in his desperation that he had hit a nerve.

“Oh so that is what I am now,” came a shaky reply. “A magic fairy that solves every Jane and Joe’s problems that happen to be passing by? Is that what you see me as? Have I not been clear or polite in my refusal to aid you? Have I not given enough reasons?” The Magician shook violently. “Or is that not enough for a spoiled brat like yourself?”

“HOW DARE-”

“No how dare YOU master dragon!” The Magician walked to the cabin and began digging around furiously as he closed the door. He returned hold well over ten tomes in hand and began furiously launching them at Spike one by one. Spike caught one which revealed the title of a popular fairy tale on its cover.” You don’t realise it do you?” Spike turned his head from the cover as another book launched towards him.

“You think you’re unique, hmm? You think you’re the first damn living thing to come parading to me with some sob story at hoof about how life has been unfair to them? Well I’ve got tons of them in case you’re wondering.

Oh I need this, I need that. I’m too fat. I’m too old. I’m too young. Why am I not famous? Why can’t I be in charge? Where’s my wealth and happiness? Even the damn princes sometimes. I remember this dark haired one. Kept going on about how he deserved the power and all that nonsense. He was just like you. He wouldn’t listen but I being the weary soul I am helped him anyway because why the hell not.”

Spike stood in shocked silence as the figure raged and spat viciously all the while shaking and growling. He was pacing madly and with each step the small daises seemed to wilt and the clouds grew heavier. Spike swore he could see little black specs of magic forming around the Magician but upon rubbing his eyes they disappeared.

Eventually the moment passed and calm was restored. The Magician named ‘Set’ looked spent. His sigh was deep and his breathing uneven. Had Spike no still been angry with him he would have been worried Set’s health.

“I’m not looking for any of those things. I don’t want power, money wealth or fame.” Spike paused. “I’m doing this for-”

“Love.”

“Pardon?”

“You are doing it for the girl. Your eyes once again Spike, tell a lot about your character plus you weren’t being practically subtle with the reference to ‘her’ earlier.” Spike had the decency to blush. “Love? I never understood it, doubt I ever will. It’s too complex, too messy. Makes for good drama but besides I find it irrelevant.”

“I don’t care if it’s irrelevant to you but it means the world to me or at least she does. I didn’t travel the globe for just any mare.”

“No you travelled it for the most beautiful, graceful, elegant creature your eyes have ever laid eyes upon and when she looks at you, you swear it was if time itself had stopped,” the Magician replied sarcastically. Spike gave an annoyed huff but The Magician merely began picking up the books he had unleashed in his rage. He caught Spike’s eye. “Heard it all before kid.”

Spike’s annoyance was tangible within the air. The doubt though, clawing at the back of his mind, was growing stronger. Excluding some historical lessons and making his would be ‘saviour’ extremely irritated; Spike had done little to convince the Magician of his case. Broken and deflated Spike pulled his gaze towards the Everfree. Towards defeat. For a moment Spike reflected on old memories. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.

This time it was of when he was younger.

A birthday part. Presents galore. An insatiable desire. An uncontrolled rage. The one he loved caught in his grasp. Fear and terror in her eyes. She saw a monster. Yet she got him to calm down. She saved him that time. But soon she couldn’t. Soon no-one could. No one except himself and the man sitting across from him. He would not leave. He would before submission to fate.

“I won’t go until you can help me. I’m not like the others. If I go back I’m as good as dead. My life is meaningless if it means I spend the rest of my existence without those I care for. I will die before I abandon them.”

“Your determination is admirable Spike,” coughed the Magician as he stacked the books by hand before quickly shuffling them into the cabin and shaking his head. His tone was even when he started again. “Let’s I perchance I find a loophole in your…circumstance. Would you be willing to risk it all? Just for one grand pointless gesture for this…mare.” The Magician was not facing Spike but his eyes had shifted to the side indicating he was listening intently.

“I care not for the consequences if I haven’t made that clear enough already.”

For a moment the Magician tensed and remained still. Eventually the lowering of the shoulders and the sway of the cloak indicated that he had heard the response and was now ready to reply to it.

“Is that so eh?” whispered a low and not entirely friendly tone. If Spike had been facing him then he would have seen the little sparks of flame enter the Magician's eyes as they narrowed. “Damned be the consequences?” The Magician began to mumble to such a low degree that even Spike couldn’t hear it. To his ears all he heard were sharp whistles, like a disrupted animal. The Magician turned to Spike. His eyes glistened absent of flames now though he was scowling deeply. He leaned in closer to Spike.

“You must realise that my aid comes at a price. A price you may not be willing to pay.” The Magicians tone was soft but deadly serious, it was also very...uncomfortable like something had changed in his character. Spike didn't notice though, he had perked up at just the mention of possible cooperation before giving of a somewhat sigh of relief.

“What do you want?”

“No Spike. It’s not a matter of what I want but more of a matter of what you are willing to give to me,”a cold voice vocalised.The Magician turned towards the caravan. With a flick of his wrist parchment, ink, quills and a chair exited the doorway. A large wooden table also materialised from a pool of black smoke that had collected in the distance between Spike and the caravan. The equipment landed on the table and was fixed into a position facing the chair which had suddenly become occupied by the Magician.

He grabbed a quill and dipped its head in ink before quickly scribbling done some words on a golden brown piece of paper, the rapid movements of the quill becoming more and more pronounced as he increased his pace. For a while he seemed oblivious of Spike as he neared the end of the scroll. He placed a fine straight line across from an ‘x’ and laid the paper on the table before joining his hands and bringing them up to his snout.

“What do you know of time magic Spike?”

“I know it is a highly volatile and relatively unknown field of magic. It’s also extremely difficult to perform due to the strains it puts on the fabric of the universe. Basically it’s like rewriting a written text. You change one sentence and you may accidently change the course of the story. I don’t many ponies able or willing to use it. I mean the results could be…disastrous if it’s misused.”

“Well, well, well aren’t you the little magical expert in the making.”

“When you live around a pony that has travelled time, gone to other dimensions, fought gods and won, became a demigod herself and is the leader of the most powerful magical artefacts in history you tend to pick up a few things on magic.” A bemused smile donned the Magicians’ snout.

“Indeed. Nonetheless my aid will require its use if we are to ‘cure’ your disposition. I was not lying to you when I said that I cannot change you naturally. The magic you carry acts like a sponge.” The Magician fiddled with the quill before resting his right arm on the table. “But time my dear boy has no such limitations.” The quill span in front of his snout as if it was the most interesting thing around. “There are ways to get what you want without ripping apart existence.” He looked at Spike a fake grin displaying sharp frontal teeth as if he was selling a door to door product. “Especially for those who are…willing to risk it all as you…undoubtedly are.”

“Then what do you propose?” questioned an increasingly uncomfortable Spike. While the conversation in general had been irritable since their first meeting, the sudden shift in attitude was befuddling Spike. This newfound helpfulness was only heightening Spike’s anxiety. The Magician straightened himself before answering.

“You must sign away your past, future and present to me and only me and no other. Every choice that was once yours belongs to me. Through this I can effectively alter time to give you what you want, your chance at happiness.” The Magician’s tone was calm and frighteningly unflinching in his delivery.

“You want what?”

“You heard me. It is the only way. I simply undo your current form. Spike the dragon will have never existed. You will be born a pony and with that your opportunity at the life you desire. It is rather simple when you get down to it.”

“I-I can’t, no, this doesn’t seem right.”

“It is the only permanent way that doesn't horribly kill you. To refuse is to return to what you had. You said you’d risk everything for this mare. This is your risk, not mine. Take it or leave it.”

“But I’d- life would be different. How would I know you weren’t tricking me?”

“No,” chuckled the Magician. “I do not have any desire to manipulate you. Your memories would remain. Your life would remain the same…in a way. I would merely change one event. That’s all. The day you were born. That day would change.In truth it's just one little day. Nothing more nothing less.”

“How-how would that help me get Rarity?”

“You will become the pony of her dreams. Her shining knight in armour.” A smoke trail showed one of Spike’s fantasies from when he was younger. His captivation caught as he saw Rarity swoon over him and his new form.

“That much I can ensure, it will just require some subtle editing, but with your co-operation there will be very little resistance from up top. You said to give you a chance at a happily ever after. A chance I will give you. I will set up the pieces; you just have to move them into the right place. Surely that is not beyond you?”

“I’m unsure.” Spike was sputtering and squeaking unceasingly. He had no idea why, but the way his brain rattled within his skull was the basis of an oncoming migraine. Spike was not lying when he said he was unsure. Whether it be because of the requirements needed to fulfil his request or the fact that a solution to all his issues had just suddenly appeared were two of the main reasons.

“I will not force you into this. It is your choice,” he said with a shrug. “If you need time then take it but be warned dragon. My deal is limited and private. You must not speak of it to any other.It could risk our plans. Especially to that...serpent,” he spat. Spike would have questioned the suudden dislike of Discord had he not bee still in a state of shock.

“I-I want-yes, no-time, gods I don’t know.” Spike burrowed his face in his claws. “I need to get my head around this.”

“There is no trickery I place before you. The conditions are applicable only until you wish to hear of them when the contract is signed.” his now soft and sweet voice regarded Spike again, it was almost sympathetic in tone. “You are undecided. Have a day. Think with both your head and heart. When you have reached a cordial agreement then come to me again.”

Spike felt his head get dizzy. The lights began to fade as the colours of his world went black. All he saw were the now flaming eyes of a figure in a chair a soft chant entering his brain. The comfort of sleep was welcomed. A single voice echoed once in the dark as he drifted off.

“Think of what I have said dragon. I will give you your day. I wait on the outskirts of the forest. Make your decision by nightfall tomorrow evening. Your desires are within your grasp but you must make the final step whether that be to your happiness or those of others is up to you. But for now…sleep.”

Author's Note

God these chapters really do cause you to pull your hair out. I just seem to keep making them longer. Stupid exposition.

As for the chapter itself, the sudden shift in the Magicians character will be explained later. It's not because he had a 180 and said "Screw it lets do it." It's more complex than that.

Next chapter, were going to a party and out of the forest for a while so at least it's something different.

Criticism is appreciated again. Thanks for the support of this fic. In truth its far more exhausting than I planned. Ciao again!