“It’s interesting, if you think about it. Saddle Arabians with their genies, Griffons with their dust devils, and even Zebras with their ancestor guardians. But what do ponies have? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Equestria is the one and only civilization without any wish granting fey, separating us from more “primitive” cultures. Goes to show how progressive we are nowadays, eh?”
Telling his short ‘discovery’ was a fedora wearing, lime coated pegasus. A fresh, young college student having a night out at the bar with his friend. He was the young type who thought he knew it all, especially if he read it from a book. Like a lawyer, but without a briefcase. At least, he didn’t have one yet. His friend watched him, a violet stallion and fellow pegasus, without a comment. The bartender looked up from washing a mug, cleaning up for the night.
Without any inquiries, the fedora-donned stallion returned to his drink with his partner. The bar was dimly lit for the wee hours of the day, as many had gone home and the bartender had no need to keep various neon signs on. The two last customers were discussing politics, religion, and various gossip like true friends should. Except for the bartender, they were alone, completely alone. Or so they thought.
The bell chimed, alerting the bartender to eye the opening doors. Without the various lights on, the front of the bar was shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Slow, rhythmic clop clop sounds of hooves reverberated across the marble floor, demanding the undivided attention of the drinking duo and their peddling colt.
“I wouldn’t believe that story, if I were you,” an ancient voice said as a stallion stepped from the shadows. He trotted to the bar stool, allowing the light to illuminate his… surprisingly young body. Dark brown fur coat, blue polo with the collar tidy with a red bowtie. Smoking a bubble pipe, the ginger-maned stallion climbed onto a stool, staring at the bewildered pair. He held out a single hoof, freshly polished. “Howdy.”
“Name’s Fed, Fed Stora.” The fedora stallion tipped his hat in return, taking the stranger’s hoof and giving it a quick shake.. “What do you mean, sir? I did a fair amount of research. Equestria has no documented wish-granter…”
The stranger grinned. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” He swiveled in his chair, ordered a hard cider, and took to blowing bubbles before recounting his tale. “Many years ago, before the imprisonment of the Spirit of Disharmony, Discord, there was a young pony. The spawn of said chaos spirit, and a nice lovely-” the stallion leaned forward on the counter, ensuring not a single royal guard was in sight “-princess, if you catch my drift.”
“What in Equestria?! You’re joking!” the other stallion, another college student, gasped. His wings flared out and a tint of red bled through his coat, painting his wing joints and cheeks like a rose. “That’s beyond scandalous! How could you say that?”
The stranger chuckled, lowering his bubble pipe to the counter before turning his head, giving the pegasus a sly wink. “Not all myths are pretty, my friend. Depending on your definition of ‘pretty,’ I’d say this is definitely not one of them. You see, the two’s union gave birth to a child. A strange child, if you believe it. A mister Rod D. Cis, legendary earth pony of Ancient Equestria.”
Fed snorted. “An earth pony? Seriously? Sounds as intimidating as Pudding challenging Princess Platinum. How could a mere earth pony grant-”
The stranger slammed the table with his hoof, interrupting Fed’s snide remark. “Mere earth pony? Mere earth pony?! Rod was no mere earth pony! He was a legend! A hero! Power over destiny itself! And quite the filly’s colt, if the legend still holds true.”
Finding it hard to believe, Fed sipped his drink and snickered with his friend. “Sounds kinda farfetched, if you ask me.”
“Did I mention,” the stranger said as he blew a rather large bubble, “that he was quite the trickster? He always did give ponies what they wished for, what they truly wanted. Even if he had a bit of fun with it.”
“If they wanted it, how is it trickery?” Fed snorted, beginning to tire of the tale. “I fail to see the point of this Rod character. Or his validity, really. An earth pony granting wishes? I could see a unicorn, or hell, a zebra hybrid! This is worse than a mare’s tale, this is plain hogwash!”
“Well,” the stranger said, cocking his head. “You speak as if we were talking about a common fictional character from a book, not a true legend. Legends… don’t always make sense, my friend. Elements of Harmony, Mare In The Moon, King Sombra of the Crystal Empire… did those make any sense from the pages of a storybook?” He grinned as Fed gulped, his naivety outmatched.
“Now, answer me this.” The stranger leaned forward onto the counter, staring into Fed’s soulful windows. The light reflected off his amber eyes, a spark of mischief glinting inside as he took in a long puff from his bubble pipe. “If you could have anything in the world, any wish granted, what would it be?”
Fed’s eyes, a dark green, flashed purple in the light. The bartender raised an eyebrow, but decided not to utter a word about it, instead blaming it to be the trick of the dim light. Fed hesitated, a blissful grin widening on his face. Before anypony could speak and snap him out of it, he shook his head.
“Pfft, that’s easy,” Fed slurred, to his friend’s supportive, nervous laughter. “True love, just like anypony else. That’s the only thing you can’t really work for-” he turned to his worried friend “-right?”
“So they say,” the stranger said as he gave a final blow, releasing a purple bubble. He watched it float in the air until it popped, releasing tiny sparkles into the air. With a final chuckle and a wink, he nodded to the pair. “Now have fun, you two.”
With that, he hopped off the stool and trotted toward the exit. He felt the eyes of the bartender watching him as the shadows hugged him once more. He prodded the door open, waited a brief moment as the cool wind blew against his mane and the bell chimed, and turned his head.
The two stallions were tangled in each other’s embrace, their passion blazing in the dim lighting. Chuckling, the bow-tie stallion turned away from the romantic spectacle and walked into the night air, mumbling to himself.
“Ya still got it, Rod.”
“I look like a penguin.”
“No, of course not! You look, er, handsome!”
“Stuff it, you know full well I look ridiculous in this!
“You look fine!”
“Look at it! Any minute now I’m going to lay an egg!”
“Only females lay eggs, you know.”
“Heh, you really are an egghead.”
“Hey!” Twilight stuck her tongue out and magically threw a pillow at Spike, donned in a formal tuxedo. The two were clad in attire appropriate for their scheduled night: an azure dress for Twilight, and a black and white tuxedo with a silver tie for Spike.
Spike batted away the pillow, staring at the mirror. He had gotten taller, yes, but was still barely reached Twilight’s height. The suit was snug against his lean muscles; the fabric was nothing too bulky, but it made him look scrawny. Spike wanted to cringe, but Twilight had picked it out. He considered sneaking off to Rarity’s to get it fitted properly, but that was absolutely out of the question. Besides, Twilight wanted to do it herself. It wasn’t as if it hurt, considering he was arguably a walking suit of armor, but it was still uncomfortable and awkward. Swallowing his pride, he allowed her to continue her prodding with sharp needles.
“You excited for tonight?” Twilight asked, tightening the threads on one of Spike’s sleeves to his discomfort. “It’ll be fun, Spike. Dinner, a show, and dancing! You like dancing, right? And the crystals! Imported from the Crystal Empire itself! The Crystal Empire is known for it’s crystals, you know.”
“Yep, it was a mystery,” Spike deadpanned as Twilight adjusted his slack’s waistline. If his tail was squeezed any further, it’d fall off. Maybe it’ll regenerate, like a lizard. Can it do that? That’d be cool. Spike smiled in his silent musings, trying to ignore the sharp pricks poking his posterior. Maybe Twilight was a porcupine in a past life.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!”
A few minutes passed, the two giggling at Spike’s barely professional attire and walking downstairs toward the waiting chariot. Twilight, flaring her wings out, did a quick check of her dress and purse to make sure they had absolutely everything they needed. Bits, a crown, notepad and pencil in case she needed to take notes, pepper spray, and breath mints just in case.
Twilight saluted, a custom she had picked up from her brother, to the two royal pegasi strapped to the carriage. “Thank you, good sirs,” she said, giving the guards a smile as she climbed onto the carriage. The two bowed in return, honoring their princess and Spike. Spike, attempting to be polite, gave them a small wave as he followed Twilight.
Since night had fallen during their preparations, nearly all the ponies were home for supper as the carriage flew into the air above Ponyville. Twilight sat inside, comfortable on her haunches and her forelegs curled underneath her chest as cool, twilight wind blew through her shoulder-length mane. Spike fiddled with his tail in his lap, wishing for the night to end already. Twilight, oblivious to his wishes, turned her head to him.
“Can you believe it? We did it, Spike. We both did it!” Twilight said as her voice raised in pitch. She tried to contain her excitement, but her twitching wings betrayed her feelings.
Spike leaned against the guardrail, releasing a drawn-out, depressed puff of smoke. “Nope, can’t believe it. Not after the fiftieth time you’ve mentioned it. Completely left-field. You got me.” He threw up his claws, as if he was being held at horn-point in a bank robbery.
Twilight’s nostrils flared, exhaling a humored snort. “Oh Spike, lighten up. It’ll be fun!” She scooted over and rested her head against Spike’s side, digging into his tux with a light nuzzle. “It’s not everyday we have dinner with the princess to celebrate graduation, you know.” She twisted her barrel to lie on her back, resting her head on his lap and giving him a sly smile. “Hey, aren’t you being rewarded too? Didn’t you get a job offer, mister business?”
“What’s with the needless exposition?” Spike leaned against the rail and glaring at Twilight. “I know this already, you know this already, what’s the point of saying it again for the tenth time?”
Wiggling her legs and back to stay on the carriage seat, Twilight’s magic craned Spike’s neck down, bringing his gaze to her’s. “Spikee,” she said, playfully rolling the e on her tongue and stifling a giggle. “Lighten up!”
Spike calmly reached up to his coat pocket and pulled out a small, rolled up slip of paper. Pursing his lips, he blew small emerald sparks and lit the note in flames. The note disappeared, only to conjure three inches below, caught in Twilight’s magical hold.
Giggling, Twilight unrolled the slip and read no u. She tossed it to the side and rolled her eyes. She giggled and rolled over, sitting on her haunches and retreating to her side of the carriage to face Spike.
“I see you’ve been practicing magic,” she said, barely able to contain an edge of excitement in her voice. “Looks like those lessons are paying off!”
Spike grinned, his emerald eyes shining in the moonlight. “It’s just a simple teleportation spell,” he said, looking up to the stars. “Celestia taught it to me years ago. I’ve just, well, perfected it.”
“Still,” Twilight countered, scooting closer, “that’s still an impressive feat. Not many unicorns can master that spell, funny enough. You do have talent, Spike, if only you’d-”
Spike held up a warning claw, silencing his adoptive sister. Leaning back onto the padded seat, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the cool wind through his spines. Rather than pursue the subject, Twilight mirrored his relaxed approach and allowed them to enjoy silence together. The wind whistled past their ears; the only noise breaching the gentle quiet was the occasional whinny of the pegasi guards or Spike taking in a deep breath and exhaling.
As the carriage flew over a field, Spike’s eye caught a flash of rainbow and pink. Two pegasi were flying together, carrying a picnic basket as they descended to the base of a tree. Spike smiled, recognizing some of his own friends. Spike left the sight behind as the carriage passed Ponyville’s borders, with Canterlot looming in the distance.
A slight tug on his bowtie alerted him, but it was only the glow of magic adjusting his lopsided embellishment. Twilight shifted in her seat, shuffling her hooves and twitching her wings, trying to retain her silence for Spike’s benefit. It was only a matter of time until she broke her silence, and Spike would either jest or ignore her. At least until he turned his head and broke it for her.
“What is it, Twi?” Spike scratched a scale. “You’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes.”
Twilight rolled her eyes as her ears perked up. “You should be excited! Look.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder and gave it a light bat, meeting his eyes with hers. “Five years, Spike. Five years of friendship, magic, and lessons learned by both of us and our friends. We finally did it, and now we can live our lives and spread Harmony as we please.”
He couldn’t help but look away and sigh, as if he was an angst-ridden teenager in a shoddy romance story. “You don’t understand, Twilight,” he said, only furthering the simile.”That’s easy for you to say, but-”
“I know, Spike,” Twilight said, pulling her hoof away and resting it on the cushioned seat. “But you are who you are, Spike. Not some big dragon, evil monster, or personification of friendship. You’re Spike, my Spike. You don’t have a cutie mark dictating your talent or destiny, your destiny is what you make of it yourself.” She looked up to the stars, as if she was reading the gods’ prophecy, or merely daydreaming. “Spike,” she said, the stars reflecting their twinkling light off her dilated pupils. “You can be anything you want to be, and nothing less.”
He raised a questioning claw, but a slight jolt through the carriage interrupted Spike, alerting the passengers of their arrival. The pegasi guards whinnied and unhitched themselves, trotting over and opening the carriage doors and assisting their wards’ exit. He thought of resuming their conversation as he he stepped on cobblestone, but Spike bit his tongue and dropped it.
Twilight pranced ahead, her excitement starting to get the best of her. Her wings popped out from her sides and she took to the air, flying toward the quiet refectory on the castle grounds. Spike rolled his eyes and quickened his pace, pumping his arms as he assumed a light jog.
Passing by the occasional statue, leaping aside a critter or two, and dodging trees, Spike managed to stay on Twilight’s fetlocks in the chase. Giggling, she swooped down and banked, circling Spike in a pseudo-taunt. Spike, not wanting to be beat, sprinted and broke past Twilight’s circle to the restaurant. She followed suit, but he managed to lose her and beat her to the finish: the large, oak doors inside a stone arch of one of the many castle’s tower. The refectory.
Panting, the two adjusted their outfits and smoothed out the wrinkles before pushing past the doors. Inside the refectory, a private establishment reserved only to Celestia’s students and staff, was a vast chamber. A vast chamber with a masterfully chiseled marble roof, simple murals made by second years, and carpentry and embellishments that’d make Rarity stare in awe.
Rarity. Spike bit his lip as that name echoed in the halls of his mind. He couldn’t help but think about fabric and gems and rugs as he walked across the gathered tables, walking past old friends and acquaintances alike, walking with Twilight toward a particular princess in wait. Even as he sat down, he thought about how the silverware for the tableset would benefit from a diamond border, for better grip as well as sparkling dazzle. As he stared at the menu, allowing Twilight to hug her and speak to her now-old teacher, he pondered the mundanity of the menu and how it’d benefit from a new, decorative perspective.
Fortunately, before he could ponder the fashionable implications of a silk menus and sapphire crusted goblets, somepony snapped him out of it. Literally.
“Hey! Watch it!” Spike spat as he smacked the offending lion paw, unintentionally scratching it to Discord’s horror. Discord popped his thumb into his mouth, giving it a tentative suckling as he floated onto his seat next to Celestia. Spike shot him a glare, righteous irritation firing like a laser from his eyes.
Discord blew a raspberry, to Celestia’s and Twilight’s chagrin.
“How mature,” Twilight deadpanned, giving her mentor an aside glance. “He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Celestia merely smiled and wrapped a wing around Twilight, smiling down upon her.
“I’m glad you could join us, Twilight Sparkle. Then again, it is your private celebration after all. What’s a party without the guest of honor?” Celestia leaned down and gave Twilight a light nuzzle. “Congratulations on—Oh, I’d like a Banana Panada, please.”
The waiter, a ginger-maned stallion, nodded and wrote down her order on the notepad. He went through the table of four, writing down Lilac Nectar, Daisy HayShake™, and Tropical Crystal Essence for quick order. He looked up from his notepad and tipped his hat. “Right away, Princess ‘Tia, Princess Twilight. And, er, you guys.” He gave a wink and disappeared in the crowd before Discord could even snap his fingers in jest.
”Ah, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Discord said as he traced a fingers on an empty water glass, creating a harmonic vibration. “Let me be the first to say congratulations on your graduation-” he grinned at a bemused Celestia “-and to happy times. Now what’s next? College? I’d like to see that. Study all day, party all night. Maybe meet a nice stallion. Or a mare, since college is all about experime—ow!”
Spike swiftly stomped on Discord’s foot underneath the table, causing Discord to flail and land a claw on Spike’s forehead. Immediately, his cheeks burned red as naughty images filled his thoughts. Shut up! Stop it! That’s my sister!
A warm glow of magic held back Discord’s now snowball-armed paw; Celestia shook her head and clicked her tongues. “Now now, boys, tonight is Twilight’s night. Can we all behave until Shining arrives?”
Spike, his jaw smoking and held shut by Twilight’s magic, could only nod. Reluctantly, like a clockwork automaton. Twilight’s magic helped.
Twilight, her horn still glowing with Spike’s restraint, turned away toward Celestia. “Shining is coming? I thought he was busy in the Crystal Empire with the new recruits’ training.” Her magical grip loosened on Spike as his interest in Shining overtook his sudden rivalry with Discord. “I mean, that’s great! I just thought he was busy with…”
“Oh Twilight,” Celestia said as the drinks arrived, “you of all ponies know that sometimes you need to take a break from work and visit your loved ones. Yes, Shining has his duties, but Cadence is allowed to oversee the royal guard as well. She can hold the Empire on her own.”
Twilight nodded, but a hint of disappointment laced her words as she said, “Oh, so Cadence is not coming… so it’s just us then. That’s fine. I’ll see Cadence eventually, right?”
Celestia turned toward the arriving waiter. “One moment please, we have another member joining our dinner, so we would like to wait.” The waiter bowed, his luscious ginger locks nearly touching the floor, then made his way back to the kitchen. She then returned her attention to Twilight. “Of course, she always talks about you when she writes to me, you know. You make a fine sister, Twilight Sparkle.”
An invoking comment, one Spike would have loved snarking to, but the trail of smoke rising from Discord’s vacant seat distracted him. Having gone up in a poof of smoke, Discord had apparently died from boredom mere moments ago after being silenced by his superior.
Damn, he’s whipped, Spike thought with an impish grin. Then it fell as he realized why. Twilight and Celestia droned on and on about this and that, with nothing engaging. Spike’s magic muzzle completely dissipated, but he had nothing to say. Rather, he tapped his claws against the table as he waited for Shining (and therefore, food) to arrive. He stared at the blue tablecloth. His mind drifted. He started to drool.
“Spike… Spike!” Twilight nudged him awake just as he began to nod off. Spike jolted up and shook his head, then turning it to a chuckling Celestia.
Celestia took in a deep breath, stifling the giggles. Composure regained, she asked, “Spike, I hear you’ve been taking magi studies per my request. How is that treating you? I’ve trust that with your level of competence, and the special pony’s studies you’ve assisted with for the past few years, it’s certainly nothing too difficult.”
Nodding, he replied, “No, not really. It’s fun and all, but nothing too hard. Not everything is as easy as breathing fire or charging up a horn, but magic is as magic does, right?”
She returned his nodding, chuckling in mutual understanding. “That’s great to hear. Twilight has told me about her feelings on the manner, but have you thought about joining—”
“No, not at all,” Spike said he shook his head. The table’s edge cracked as his claw’s grip tightened on the brittle wood, his knuckles turning white. His heart rate began to accelerate, forcing him to level his breathing before he could turn to face the princess. “I’d… I’d rather not talk about it right now. Not now, please.”
Celestia closed her eyes and bowed her head, frowning. She could sense his anxiety, and chose to honor his request. Spike sat back in his chair, pressing his covered spine against the wood and breathing.
“If you do think about it…” Celestia murmured, keeping her voice low and soothing as to calm Spike. “You should find something interesting in the mail, courtesy of Discord. I think—”
“You’ll love this!” the waiter said as he placed Spike’s bubbling sparkling drink in front of him. “Took me a jiffy to find the perfect jewels, but I did it just for you mister dragon! Hope you enjoy!” The waiter dropped off the rest of the drinks, bowed to the princesses, and hopped off to the kitchen and whistling the tune for It’s a Horse World After All.
Sighing, Spike reached for his glass and took a swig of the bubbling extract. It tasted like his usual jewel treats, but with a hint of cider. Spike set the drink down and smacked his lips, raising an eyebrow at his drink. Huh, interesting. I wonder if Applejack had something to do with this.
He reached over to get a second sip, but a hard hoof slammed onto his shoulder, breaking his thirsty concentration. A muscled grip pushed onto his shoulder, making Spike wince in pain. He turned his head to see the proud smile of his surrogate brother.
“Spikey! Bro, how you doing?” Shining Armor greeted as he took the seat to Spike’s left, opposite from Twilight. He leaned forward onto the circular table, waving to the two princesses. “Twily! Princess Celestia! How’re my favorite princesses doing tonight?”
Twilight leaned in front of Spike to get a closer look at her brother, containing her squeals of joy through a forced grin. “Shining! You finally made it!” Spike nonchalantly leaned back, allowing the two their moment.
“Ugh, I know!” Shining rolled his eyes. “Air traffic was horrible! We need a weather team in the Empire; it was like a stampede of clouds up there!” He sighed and turned around, grabbing a drink from a random waitress trotting by. He nodded and tossed a few bits her way, then returning his attention to the table. He titled the glass toward the princesses as a friendly gesture before taking it back and taking a hearty sip.
“Ah, that’s good stuff. But I hardly doubt you want to hear about the weather. How’s it feel to be a graduate, Twi?”
“Great!” Twilight cheered, her wings fluttering at her sides. She placed her hooves on the table and stared at her drinking glass. “It’s a strange transition, but I’ll get through it just like when I became a princess. I have the support of everypony: all my friends and my family. Besides-” she tore her gaze away from the glass and beamed at Shining “-I accepted Cadence’s invitation. I’m coming to the Crystal Empire in a week’s time under Cadence’s tutorage. I’m going to learn how to rule!”
“That’s great, Twily!” Shining said, raising his glass as Twilight’s rose to meet it. “No wonder she was so excited to see me off! For a moment I thought she and the janitor, Humphrey, were having an affair, but it was just good news!” He sipped his drink after the clinking of glasses, and smacked his lips. “That’s a load off my mind.”
Celestia giggled at his joke, unable to control herself. “Humphrey? You mean that old stallion? He’s old enough to be my grandfather!”
Crickets chirped as the entire restaurant fell silent to stare at the blushing princess. Princess Celestia smirked, allowing her table guests to laugh. Even Spike chuckled. The princesses’ laughter echoed through the vast chamber, shattering the tension and allowing everypony to continue their merry business.
Shining, his jovial laughter dying down, nudged Spike with a foreleg. “So how about you, little bro? Got any major plans now that you’re legal?”
Spike bit his tongue, a copper taste flooding inside his mouth, as his surrogate family next to him tried to motion Shining to stop. But alas, he continued.
Shining grinned, a slight pink on his cheeks from his drink. “Come on, Twilight writes all about you, ya know. I hear you might be interested in enlisting,” -Spike tightened his grip on the table again- “maybe learn a thing or two. Hey, at least you’ll still be with Twi—”
Spike kicked back against the table, sliding his chair so he could stand. He hopped up, brushed his jacket off, and gave a small salute to Shining. “That’s interesting and all, but I really have to use the bathroom. I’ll, uh, be back in a moment.” He hurried off before Shining could utter a word, weaving through a crowd of rushing waiters and ignorant students and nobles alike.
Down the hall, to the left, past the marble bust. Spike furrowed his brow as he recalled the directions of the bathroom. He didn’t feel like asking for directions, he just wanted some peace and quiet. Finally, the wooden door with the appropriate sign appeared. He burst through the door of the little colts’ room, startling a random stallion, and shoved past.
His bladder was far from full, despite Twilight’s brutal attempt at hydrating him before their outing. She claimed it was proper procedure before a night out with alcohol, but Spike didn’t have the heart to remind her that he didn’t drink like she did. No doubt she’d find her way into Celestia’s chambers to share a few glasses.
Stumbling and lightheaded, Spike gripped onto a sink’s and supported his staggering legs. He sighed and took in a deep breath before bringing his head to the mirror. His clammy scales were somewhat pale, lacking their usual purple luster, and his eyes were slightly cloudy. Despite it being a mere three weeks since, he looked as if he was ready to shed again. He gulped at the thought.
Taking out the handkerchief in his coat pocket Twilight slipped in earlier, he wiped his brow and cheeks. He dabbed here and there, breaking only to lean down and splash water from the sink onto his face.
Leaning back up, he stared at his reflection. He didn’t look sickly, but he obviously needed a night’s sleep. Something lacking as of late. His jaw twitched as he tried to force a smile, but nothing came out of. Spike sighed once more and turned around, making to leave the restroom.
Again, he weaved through several wandering ponies. He wondered what the group was talking about, if it were about him and his recent woes or if they had moved onto to themselves as usual. It wasn’t like he was that important. Dragging his feet, Spike stared at the nice burgundy carpet as he treaded forth.
As he treaded right into another pony, just before reaching his table.
“Oof! Watch it!” the pony cried as he slipped on a fallen banana peel and fell, dropping his platter and dishes and drinks everywhere. Spike barely felt the impact, standing a full head taller than the earth pony, and merely reflected the force of the collision onto the unfortunate waiter. Spike shook his head and brought himself back to reality, looking down at the mess.
Spike instinctively kneeled down and reached for the fallen platter, intending to help when a brown hoof rested on his own. Pulling back, Spike looked up into the amber eyes of the grinning waiter. The two nodded and returned to their task of cleaning up; returning fallen dishes to the platter, using the rag to dry the carpet of wine and water alike, and picking up any stray glass fragments. Spike lifted the last shard and placed it on the tray, receiving a tip of the waiter’s hat.
“Thank you kindly, mister dragon,” the waiter said, running a hoof through his ginger hair. “Not many folk are as kind as you in these parts, ‘cept for the princess, of course.” He gave a nod to the Princess Celestia, who returned his smile with a similar sparkle in her eyes. Returning his gaze to Spike, he reached out and took Spike’s claws in his hooves, giving a vigorous shake before drawing him into a quick hug. The stallion gave a quick nuzzle. “Thank you, thank you. May I know the name of the kind dragon who saved me hide this day and age?”
Pulling back and taking his claw away, Spike rubbed the back of his head as his spines burnt. “It’s Spike, but I hardly saved your life. I’m just happy to help.” He lowered his claws and stood up, barely half a head taller than the stallion. Spike mentally grumbled as the waiter looked up to him: he was taller than most ponies now, but something about his height still felt inadequate. “Yeah, just happy to help…” He lowered his eyes, seemingly into the waiter’s, but his gaze dropped to the floor as his mind moped.
The ginger waiter smiled and tapped his forehead, drawing Spike’s attention. “Well then I’m happy you’re happy, mister Spike. You saved my life! Why, what if I fell and hit my head? What if I fell onto glass? Why, I’d be in stitches, that’s what! Thank you, thank you!” He grasped Spike’s claw again and shook it thrice. “Is there anyway, anyway, I can repay you?”
Spike, flabbergasted, found himself tongue tied as an odd sensation prickled on his neck’s scales. The stallion took a pipe from his uniform’s coat pocket and lifted it to his mouth, blowing a few bubbles. Spike shook his head and said, “No, I don’t want anything. It’s fine.”
The stallion raised an eyebrow. “You sure, young ‘un? Everypony wants something.” His eyes glinted in the restaurant’s lighting, capturing and mesmerizing Spike’s attention. The chatter of ponies at the nearby table and all around died down, as if Spike and the waiter were the only ones there. The stallion took the pipe away from his face, smacked his lips, and smirked. “Mister Spike, I am honestly curious. Call me a voyeur of introspection, but I must know. If you could have one wish, any one wish in the world, what would it be?”
Crossing his arms, the question took Spike aback. Everypony around him had their ambitions, and their lives were a constant river of dreams and aspirations while he was just along for the ride. Looking back, Spike’s mind went to his time in Ponyville.
Twilight’s studies, Rarity’s fashion, Pinkie’s parties, Applejack’s farm, Fluttershy’s veterinarianism, Rainbow’s dreams of the Wonderbolt life. They all had goals, talents, and seemingly impossible dreams. Dreams that were in their power to accomplish. They knew exactly what they wanted from the start. But Spike was just there, along for the ride. Ponies wanted him to do different things, some for him and some for their own means, but the pushes were beginning to become forceful. And confusing. Spike, despite Twilight’s insistence and question, honestly had no clue.
“What do I want?” Spike whispered to himself, to the stallion’s confusion.
The ginger raised a hoof to his perked ear and tilted his head to the side. “What was that, good sir?”
Biting his lip, Spike nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I want. I wish I knew what I wanted. Everypony has their plans and ideas for me, but I haven’t a clue. I want to know what I want, I want to know what’s me.”
His wish wiped the smirk off the ginger’s face, bringing only nonplussed grimace. “That’s… interesting!” As if the candle upstairs had been lit, the stallion’s expression went from sly to honest excitement. “Why, that must be the greatest wish I’ve heard in ages! Not avarice, not a mere whim, but a honest to goodness wish!” He placed the pipe back in his mouth as he took Spike’s claw, purple bubbles bubbling in his oaken pipe.
“Uh, you're welcome?” Spike said as he gave a sheepish grin. Immediately, as if sensing his hesitation, the stallion dropped his claw.
“Hm, we seem to have a problem,” the waiter said as he rubbed his chin, looking up. Spike followed his gaze, craning his neck to peer into the rafters. “I’d say duck.”
Spike had a question. He wanted to know why he had to duck when they were looking toward the ceiling. It made no sense whatsoever. You would step to the side when something fell. You would not duck. It would not save anything. It would not prevent anything. It would not do anything. Spike did it anyway.
Splat!
Spike coughed and rubbed his aching head as the specially ordered fowl (as Canterlot is accustomed to the occasional carnivorous embassy) fell to the ground, having bounced off his exposed cranium. Spike climbed up from his knees, pulling on an empty table as support, and opened his eyes.
Huh, where’d he go? he thought, scratching his chin. Shrugging, having no waiter in sight, he turned around and resumed his path to the celebration. Reluctantly.
He finished the dinner, silently, listening to his friends and family speak as if he wasn’t there. He made it clear he had nothing to say, nothing to do with their plans whatsoever. Shining, having been scolded by his sister, dropped the earlier subject and allowed Spike to relax for the remainder of the meal.
Twilight spilled a drink on his tux and profusely apologized, but he waved her off and said it was fine. She flattened her ears against her head in worry, but turned to resume her conversation with her mentors and brother.
Discord had returned to his seat and attempted to probe Spike on his magical progress, but a quick burst of flames quickly put him off. Celestia took notice, and with her stern command, he ceased his pestering and left Spike to his own devices.
An hour passed.
Spike eventually left the establishment as the group dispersed into pairs, leaving him as the fifth wheel. Alone and to his own devices. He called a carriage from the royal guards, instantly recognized by the new pair as the princess’s ward, and took the flight home to the library. It was a short flight, like the last, but time flowed faster without the constant pestering from his family that was hammered into his head on the daily.
He went inside, not bothering to turn on the light, and headed straight upstairs for his bed. His steps were heavy, and he merely collapsed onto his undersized basket. Part of him wondered why he kept refusing a new bed.
Then he closed his eyes, and slept. Or tried to sleep, that is. Rather, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, pondering. Pondering about the waiter and his strange words.
What do I want?
“Five miiinutes!!” the train conductor yelled as he boarded the whistling train. Ponies finished their conversations with their loved ones and left them behind, off to travel to settlements elsewhere for their business. Many a foal cried for their daddy, not realizing they would be back later like they would each and every day.
Spike gripped his ticket and walked forth, only to hesitate on his second step. He furrowed his sweating brow and tried to step forward, but his legs had turned to lead. Gritting his teeth, he dragged his feet to trudge forward at a snail’s pace. He clutched his satchel and pushed forward. Nothing. Something caught onto his shoulder.
“Spike,” Twilight said as she lightly pulled him aside, allowing other ponies to walk past. She pulled him close and stared into his eyes, as if she was trying to discern any hidden doubts he had through the windows of his soul. Her stern glare eventually relaxed as she gave a weak smile.
“I see you’re finally doing something with yourself,” she said as she placed her front hooves onto his shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Spike. I’m so proud.” She wrapped her forelegs around his neck and drew him in close. The hug lingered; a few ponies stared as they trotted by, confused by the sight of an alicorn princess hugging a dragon with limp arms and a somber expression. Spike eventually pulled away and sighed.
Spike rubbed his arms and said, “Yeah…” He looked over at the station’s clock, noting his dwindling time left. He returned his gaze at Twilight as he hugged himself, despite not feeling chilled in the slightest. “It’s just a job, Twi. I’m going to be back in a few days. No big deal, really.”
“Um, Spike, about that…” Twilight’s eyes dropped to the floor, averting her previously stern gaze. She shuffled her hooves, her eyes scanning the station’s floorboards as if an answer was scribbled underhoof. Sighing, she looked up back into Spike’s eyes. “Spike, I’m moving to the Crystal Empire. I’ll probably be gone by the time you return…”
Spike nodded, recalling his hazy memories of the previous night. “Yeah, I remember that. Princess Cadence teaching you how to rule and all that.” He fidgeted, pondering a certain implication. “Does that mean I should just head over when I’m done? Or are you going to leave my bed here for the week?”
Twilight’s wings fluttered in place, her grimace revealing quiet turmoil. “I… Spike, you’re always welcome to join me. You will always be my number one assistant, and that will never change. But—”
“But what?” Spike said, his voice trembling as his fists clenched. “You’re not telling to leave you alone, are you? You aren’t—”
“Spike!” she shouted, her wings twitching in fury. She swallowed and returned his worrisome frown with a determined glare. She stepped forward, breaching his personal space, nearly nose to nose. “Spike, I said I would never leave you. Never. And I will stand by that as long as I stand for all that is friendship and magic.”
A heartbeat passed before she broke gaze, bending her neck to look over her shoulder. “Spike, I do mean that. But it’s time you move on, maybe make your own home-” Twilight turned to stare at Spike’s feet, refusing to meet his eyes “-somewhere else…?” Her voice wavered, her pupils widened, but Spike dispelled her fears by waving her off.
“I’ll, uh, think about it I guess,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and looking toward the clock. Time was just about up. “Just, er, give me some time to think about it?”
Twilight closed her eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Spike. Good luck, and I hope to see you soon.”
Beaming in return, Spike answered, “Thanks Twi—Oof!”
Her wings shot out and Twilight pounced, tacking Spike in a proper, loving hug. Complete with nuzzles. She squeezed with her forelegs, forcing out the negativity in Spike, forcing him to surrender and return the hug by wrapping his arms around her barrel. She giggled as he spun around, something she found exciting and fun since Spike’s growth spurt in his teens.
The train whistled as the two’s moment came to a close. Spike set Twilight back down on her hooves and gave her a small, quick hug goodbye. Twilight pecked his cheek, her eyes becoming damp as he pulled away and turned. Turned to face his destiny: a train.
He took one step, and another, and another as his legs unpetrified and became light. He broke into a light jog as the train began to move, jumping onto the first step as the last few ponies boarded. He turned as he walked through the door, watching Twilight wave one last time.
“Goodbye, Spike!” she cried, her mane blowing in the warm, summer wind. “I love you!”
Spike chuckled, and couldn’t help but wave back as the station turned to grass under his standing. He leaned away from the train, hanging on with one claw. He cupped his mouth and shouted “I love you too, Twilight!”
He couldn’t hear her response, if there was any, but he saw her wipe her eyes in the distance. Eventually, as the wind blew through his spines, she became nothing but a speck on the horizon.
Scenes of the town blurred past as the train accelerated, the sight eventually turning into wild grasslands. Spike held onto the door to watch the passing scenery for a few minutes.
A snort and a puff of smoke dissipating to the strong wind prompted Spike to finally enter the train, and into the hallway. He pocketed the train ticket into his satchel, a simple midnight blue sack with a denim strap, and walked past the several occupied compartments. Families traveling to the city, entrepreneur ponies traveling to Appleloosa to strike it rich with their business, and a few student unicorns hoping to cram for their exams on the journey to Canterlot.
Spike grinned, fond memories of his friends invoked by ponies living their lives. He stopped by one train compartment, listening to a mare talk to her coltfriend. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she spoke loudly, spoke of her dreams to pass her final exams and earn her degree, becoming a licensed teacher. Her coltfriend scoffed and began an argument, driving the mare to hysterics. Spike grimaced and continued on, not wanting to meddle in other’s affairs.
Eventually he found an empty compartment at the end of the train cart and plopped down on the cushioned seat, stretching his back and resting on the wall. He considered opening the window and letting the wind blow in, but shook his head and merely rested it against the cool glass. His eyes dulled as they stared into the passing wildlands, from trees to deer to the occasional timberwolf as the the train journeyed to Canterlot.
He watched a few farms breeze by. The farmers, plowing as hard as they could with their earth pony vitality, stopped to wave at the passing train. Spike could hear a few ponies in the compartments behind him shout out their windows, greeting any loved ones they saw.
Clop clop clop.
Spike looked up from the window as the tell-tale hoofsteps of pony stepped into his compartment. A mare walked inside and climbed the opposite seat. He opened his jaw to question her breach of privacy, but the mare had a sleeping foal on her back. She laid on the seat in front of him and turned her head, biting the scruff of the foal’s neck to lift him and place him at her side.
It’d be rude to ask a mother to leave… Spike thought as he twiddled his thumbs, trying to keep his gaze toward the floor. A thick air filled the department as the two adults shared the occasional glance at each other. She seemed familiar, with her pinkish and blue hues and a well-filed horn. Her sister, a fellow unicorn, had a remarkable resemblance to the mailmare.
The mare was the first to speak, uttering a simple, “Hello.” Spike flinched from the silence breaking, nearly smacking the back of his head against the wall.
“Uh, hi. Nice to meet you,” Spike said, rubbing his arms as his scales prickled to the compartment’s draft. “You and your, er, daughter.”
The mare giggled, giving the sleeping filly a small stroke on the mane with a gentle hoof. “No, no, no,” -she shook her head- “she’s just my little sister. Not that I love her any less, of course.”
“Of course,” Spike parroted, trying to place where he had seen this mare. She lived in Ponyville, he presumed, but she was hard to remember. Like if she had been living in the background. Spike chuckled, amused at the irony.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, cocking her head. She pawed the edges of the cushion, still lying on her side, and laid her head down next to her sister.
Spike waved her off. “Uh, nothing,” he said as he turned his head toward the hall, something catching his eye. A single matron pulling a trolley asked the family in the other compartment if they wanted refreshments, but they turned it down. The matron, an aged mint pegasus, turned toward Spike.
“Anything from the trolley, dears?” she asked, her middle age wrinkling her forehead as she stepped into the compartment opening. She wasn’t ‘old’ by any means, but she was obviously past her prime. Still, Spike couldn’t help but grin as the lady beamed at the girls, her smile lathered with warmth and honey.
The mare checked herself for bits, then shook her head. “No, no thank you. I don’t have any bits.”
Lady Matron, or as Spike pretended to believe was her name, shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Tsk tsk, deary. It’s perfectly fine.” She reached into the trolley and pulled out a tiny hay sandwich, placing it on the cushion right next to the mare. “It’s on the house, dear. That little filly needs food to grow up big and strong, you hear?”
“I appreciate your kindness, but I can’t accept this without paying,” the mare said, shaking her head. She moved her hind leg to push the sandwich back, until Spike abruptly stood up and commanded their attention. The mares watched the dragon turn to his bag on the seat, ruffle through his belongings until the jingling of coins became audible, and turn around with a handful of bits.
“Here,” he said, dropping four bits into the matron’s hoof. “I’ll take four, two for them and two for me.”
“Oh my,” the matron gasped, her cheeks glowing red. “How gallant of you, sir! How generous!” She smiled and shoved the treats into his claws, dropping a few extra on the sly, turned around and hurried off before he could even utter a word of protest. She reared her head back and called out, “And tell your fillyfriend that you’re a keeper!”
Spike blushed to the mare’s amusement, her laughs hearty and strong. She snorted and giggled, wiping her nose clear once she was done. Even then, she let out the occasional snort as Spike sat down. He tossed her the treats, allowing her to catch them in her field of magic and set them aside. Eyeing the mare, Spike nibbled on a sandwich.
The mare took a small bite and perked her ears in interest. “So, mister dragon, thank for your little act of generosity. Dinky is going to love it when she wakes up. Nice to meet ya, name’s Sparkler.”
He adjusted his seating, finding his long tail numbing in the tightly closed seat. “Uh, hi. I’m Spike.”
Sparkler gasped, her eyes sparkling and her mouth widening into a knowing smile. “I know you! I saw you at the station, hugging your marefriend and saying goodbye!” She held a hoof to her mouth and giggled. “I love you, Spike!” she chirped, mimicking Twilight’s voice. She sat up in her seat and wiped her eye. “Man, you two are cute.”
“Uh…” Spike crossed his legs and arms, looking down at his lap. “She’s not, er, my marefriend…”
“Oh phooey. You two would’ve been great for each other,” she said, her ears drooping. They immediately perked up as she leaned forward in her seat. “Unless you have a crush on her! Or maybe there’s somepony else…”
“She’s like my sister, okay?” Spike threw his arms up, rolling his eyes and dropping arms back to his sides. “I mean, we’re practically family. We grew up together since the day I was hatched. So, yeah, kinda weird.”
Sparkler nodded. “Okay, I see. But I’m guessing there’s a mare in your life, huh? Come on-” she scooted to the very edge of her seat, threatening to topple over “-spill the beans!”
“Well…” Spike twiddled his claws. “I—”
Dinky, the previously sleeping filly, yawned and interrupted Spike. She smacked her lips and wiggled next to Sparkler, snuggling as close as she could for warmth. Sparkler adjusted, leaving the edge of her seat, and wrapped her tail so the very edge covered all but Dinky’s head.
Sparkler looked up and frowned. “Uh, she’s kinda tired after a long day. We’re heading up to see our grandparents, and she overexcited herself into exhaustion. Mind if we, you know?” She jerked her head to the sleeping filly, receiving a knowing nod from Spike.
He lifted a claw to his pursed lips and blew, “Shh…” Sparkler nodded and laid her head down by Dinky, closing her eyes to join her sister in the oblivion of sleep.
Spike leaned against the window, returning to his dull gaze of the wilderness. Canterlot was in sight, and the train was still going strong. Soon, they would enter the tunnel, and that would signal the final hour of the journey. Spike’s eyes drooped, the snores of the girls lulling him to sleep. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, his vision growing hazy with a grey mist, until the jaws of Morpheus swallowed his consciousness.
The train entered the dark tunnel.
Spike’s eyelids fluttered as he dreamt. Flickers of blue hues of light, diamonds and jewels, a mare screaming his name and crying, a solar eclipse, and a falling wheel. A chaotic slideshow, seemingly orchestrated by Discord himself, troubled the young dragon’s dreams. Spike whimpered, shifting in his sleep and turning over.
Only to fall on a marble floor.
The cold plunge back into the waking world startled him, much more than the dull throbbing from contact. Spike groaned and picked himself up from the floor, wondering how in Equestria somepony removed the soft carpet. He reached out to the seat for support, but instead of a nice cushion he felt the hard surface of wood. He blinked rapidly, clearing his sleep inertia-ridden vision.
“Where—Where am I?” He slowly spun in place, taking in his surroundings: white marble floors, white marble walls, four corners ridden in shadows, only a single wooden chair and desk in the middle, and not a single door in sight. A single light bulb rocked ahead, casting the shadows of the dimly lit room. Spike walked to the wall and brushed his claws against it as he traversed the edge of the room, searching and feelings for a false wall or hidden door. Nothing.
He returned to the middle and pushed the chair aside, leaned against the desk, and searched for anything that’d tell him where he was. Not a single document on top of the desk, not even an ornament or name tag.
Spike grinded his teeth, his blood beginning to boil. He clenched his fists and locked his jaws, magically charged flames threatening to burst from within. I swear to Celestia, if this isn’t a prank I’m gonna—
“Sleep well, I hope?” a voice called from behind. Spike spun, just in time to see a white, flat door close behind an approaching stallion. The dark seams disappeared in the shadows, masked and invisible to the naked eye. Obscurity as camouflage.
So that’s why I couldn’t find it, Spike thought with a grimace. Kinda creepy if you ask me.
“Sorry for the long wait,” the stallion apologized as he checked his pocket watch from his blue polo’s pocket. He nodded and rolled his eyes, shoving the watch back inside. He turned to Spike and held an apologetic hoof to his chest. “I’m terribly sorry, I kept you waiting so long you fell asleep!”
Spike bit his lip and turned his head side to side, looking around the room with awkward jerks. “Uh… how did I even get here?” He scratched his head, honestly not remembering how he had arrived in the waiting room. No exit from the train, leaving the station, or traveling across Canterlot in search of the correct address.
Oh, the letter! Spike reached into his bag at his side and searched for the rolled up letter. It was rather small, about the size of his palm, and contained all the little information he knew. He unrolled it and presented it to the stallion, who took it and scanned the tiny letters.
“Ah, I remember this,” the stallion said as he adjusted his bowtie. He pocketed the letter into his polo pocket and turned around to trot off. He flicked his tail and ordered, “Come, we have much to talk about in my office!”
Spike hesitated as the stallion looked back, raising an eyebrow. Every fiber of his being screamed to turn down the offer, run back to Ponyville, and help Twilight move to the Crystal Empire. He wanted nothing more to go back to his chores, helping his friends out with their work, especially—he clenched his fists and continued onward, following the strange stallion into the widening door in front of them. If Twilight trusted the source, then so could he.
He needed to do this.
