The Fragments of Our Collective Destiny

Chapter 1
Hallowed Land

The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters stood darkly in the middle of the Everfree, its crooked outline faintly illuminated by the glistening moon. Despite the efforts of Twilight and her friends, the former residence of Equestria’s two co-rulers still largely lay in a state of dereliction. Grime and overgrown plant life enveloped its exterior, cracks adorned its walls, and the structural remnants of what once was the throne room’s roof stuck out like deserted monuments left to the elements.

Still, its unnerving appearance did little to deter one particular alicorn. Being a frequent visitor to its library as of late, more than often had she studied late into the night, and she surely didn’t mind the occasional sleepover, either. Of course, after a particular incident, the ponies realized that the castle was little to be afraid of; if one were cautious to avoid its many secret traps, chambers, and passages, that is.

“Spike, are you alright?”

In the room that was once the Princesses’ personal reading space, Twilight Sparkle sluggishly removed her head from the comfort of her cushion, having been disturbed from her sleep by the sound of heavy panting. Not too far from her lay her number one assistant; in the darkness, Twilight barely made out a startled look on the dragon’s face.

He stared idly at the ceiling for a while, before instinctively turning his head towards the stained glass windows, from which the faint rays of the moon filtered through. The candles that Twilight lit before they went to sleep had long burned out, leaving Luna’s celestial sphere the only source of illumination.

“I had another one, Twilight; it was very realistic,” Spike finally said as he turned to face her. “Sorry by the way. I guess I woke you up again,” he added embarrassedly.

“That’s alright,” Twilight attentively replied. A small spark appeared at the tip of her horn, which soon glowed brightly, lighting up the room. “You want to tell me about it?”

“Sure,” Spike replied as he straightened up and cleared his throat. “I was walking through a vast wasteland. I’ve sure been walking through a lot of them lately. Anyway, the earth beneath my feet was brick red, and in the distance I could see these jagged peaks, where a thunderstorm seemed to be moving in from. I didn’t really know what was going on, or why I was there, so I just started wandering around.”

Then something just appeared out of nowhere and started lecturing you, I suppose, the alicorn thought. Being her analytical self, she had already observed some recurring patterns.

“This time it was when I reached the foothills of a steep mountain that I bumped into something.” The dragon furrowed his brows in thought. “Or maybe it was somepony...”

“Somepony?”

“Well, I’m not really sure,” he replied. “There were two of them: one of them was white, and the other was black. They kind of looked like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna; they had wings, too.”

Twilight’s eyes widened at the mention of Equestria’s two co-rulers. “I don’t know about Princess Celestia, but could the black pony be Princess Luna?”

“No, I don’t think it was her,” Spike said with a speculative expression. “And even though those things looked like ponies on the outside, I can’t say what they really were. They’re like…” The dragon allowed himself a moment’s pause to find the right word. “Beings of pure magical energy! They’re made of nothing but energy, and they had these fierce-looking streaks of lightning coursing across their bodies!” he explained, gesturing dramatically with his arms.

“You know, Spike, we should definitely ask Princess Luna about this the next time we go to Canterlot,” Twilight suggested. “I don’t know; maybe she even has something to do with them!”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Spike concurred, “although I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”

It had been the eleventh time in the past few weeks that the young dragon woke up in the dead of night, visibly shaken by something he encountered in his increasingly contorted dreamscape. As far as Spike could recall, never before had he experienced such episodes of profound, not to mention disturbingly realistic quasi-nightmares.

Since then, the two friends have had several of these dream-sharing sessions. Spike always felt a bit sorry for interrupting Twilight from her beauty sleep, even though she was fascinated with his fictional anecdotes the whole time anyway. Sometimes they would attempt to decipher the dreams, but mostly to no avail. Their bizarre nature confounded both of them, although Spike believed that they could, at least in part, be attributed to recent events. After all, a couple of issues had been bothering him as of late; a couple of existential issues, that is.

“And what they told me was even more confusing,” he continued.

“Oh, and what was it?” the alicorn asked curiously.

“Well…I’ve forgotten some of the details, but I do remember that the last question I asked them was ‘Who am I?’”

“Here we go again…” Twilight said with a hint of nonchalance as she rolled her eyes. The alicorn was an attentive listener, but truth be told, the more she listened, the more concerned she felt about Spike’s recent identity crisis. She had tried her best to “enlighten” him, but obviously it hadn’t been of much help to him, and to her dismay, Spike seemed to be spending more and more time simply musing; not that it’s unhealthy or anything, but Twilight could never forget the amount of emotional turmoil he went through the last time he encountered a similar situation.

She was also well aware of what her assistant could potentially resort to in order to answer these “Who am I?” questions. Well, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and she could always disguise themselves as a dragon and go fetch him again.

On the other hoof, Spike had all the right to embark on a quest of self-discovery, and to dissuade him would be simply wrong, not to mention a tad hypocritical. After all, Twilight had the privilege of uncovering her talent at a very young age, and throughout her life, she had mostly had a sense of purpose and meaning. While there were instances where she felt lost and helpless, it seemed that she’d always find closure in the end. Spike on the contrary, was her assistant, and always had her to tell him what to do. It wouldn’t stay like that forever; he would eventually need to find his own purpose and meaning in life.

The fact that Spike was a dragon living among ponies added further complications. Twilight had never had any difficulty treating him as an equal and neither did her friends. Spike himself didn’t seem to mind assimilating into pony society either—disregarding the time he decided to join the Great Dragon Migration. Still, there were perhaps fundamental differences between dragons and ponies that both of them had overlooked. And now that Spike had started to scratch the surface, there’s no stopping him from finding out what lies beneath.

“What was that, Spike?”

“Well, the white thing spoke first, and I guess you could say it spoke in riddles. It said in a very serious tone, ‘I am that which makes you, you, but also that which makes you more than you.’”

“Mysterious…” Twilight commented.

“The black one said something even harder to understand: ‘I am that which allows you to become anything you could possible imagine. But if you take this notion to the extreme, you shall surely become nothing at all.’ Something like that.”

Having worked on some pretty cryptic spells before, those words nonetheless sounded like insoluble conundrums to the gifted alicorn.

“But the dream doesn’t just end there!” Spike exclaimed. “After the black one finished its riddle, both of them suddenly vanished in thin air! Then I went on to climb the mountain. It… took quite a while. When I got to the top I could see the entire wasteland, which extended for as far as the eye could see. I also saw him.”

“Him?”

“Yeah. At least I think it’s a him. But he wasn’t a pony, that’s for sure. I can’t really say what he was. He didn’t have a concrete shape and constantly changed form. Most of the time he simply looked like a swirling vortex of… total chaos!” Spike said as he wore a rather contorted expression. “It felt like he could be anything… but nothing at the same time!”

Twilight frowned in perplexity. “Did he say something to you too?”

The dragon shifted to an ominous look. “He sure did. When he noticed me, he told me to come closer until he could almost touch me. Then he whispered in my ear, ‘I am everything you were, everything you are, and everything you’ll ever be.’ And believe me, the way he said it was so creepy; I mean, what the hay is that supposed to mean?”

“I have no idea!” Twilight replied with her trademark reaction to bewilderment.

“And he disappeared right after he whispered those words. Then I noticed a change on the horizon... and also in the sky: it looked as if they were… closing in on me, like somehow the world was being swallowed up! I had nowhere to run, so I started panicking and panicking until I finally woke up. And I guess you’ve also woken up by that point, hehe.”

“Wow,” Twilight remarked in astonishment.

“So, do you think there’s a meaning to this?” Spike asked.

She shot him a sly look. “Of course, somepony has been spending too much time thinking about—”

“Duh, I know that; I mean… are they trying to tell me something? Maybe an answer to my questions?” the dragon speculated.

“I think that’s a question only you can answer, Spike.”

Spike furrowed his brow, looking slightly tense. “And…Twilight, I know this might sound crazy, but I think they’re almost too real to just be dreams. What if they’re something else? You know… like visions?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Twilight replied dismissively. “Visions are usually only experienced by very powerful beings like the Princesses. But whatever they are, we should really consult Princess Luna.”

“I think so too,” her assistant agreed.

“By the way, don’t you think this one’s too outlandish to be a vision?” the alicorn added. “I mean… the world being swallowed up? I don’t think even Discord could do something like that!”

“Yeah, that part was kind of crazy...”

There was silence, until a soft sigh escaped from Twilight’s lips.

“Look Spike,” she began, “I don’t want you to get the impression that I am discouraging you from your ‘quest of self-discovery,’ and you can always talk to me when you feel troubled, even though I might not be terribly resourceful when it comes to—”

“I know that,” Spike interrupted with a tinge of sarcasm. “Maybe my dragon brain just works differently from that of ponies; I’m glad you’re here to listen to me rambling on stuff though.”

“Thanks, Spike. But still, I think you might be spending a little too much time pondering on these things. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but… you know what I’m talking about, right?”

That didn’t come off as too harsh, did it? Twilight thought.

“I know, and I’m sorry for pestering you with all of this, Twilight. But still… I think this is a journey I have to take; not literally, of course, but there’s something out there and I’ve got to find it,” Spike said with utter resolve, turning his head to the window. “I just know it.”

“I understand how you feel, Spike.” The purple alicorn gave him a sympathetic look. “Self-discovery is an important process that everypony… and dragon needs to undergo at some point in their lives. And I’ll always support you on your… er… quest. Just don’t do anything too nutty, alright?”

“It’s a promise,” the dragon replied firmly.

“And if you feel that you have something to say, I’ll always be there for you,” Twilight said consolingly. She then leaned forward to give the dragon a gentle embrace.

“Thanks, Twilight. You’re the best,” her assistant said, returning the hug.

Twilight’s glowing horn gradually dimmed and she let out a drawn-out yawn. “I think it’s time we settle in for the night. It’s way past bedtime. Good night, S—”

“Um…” Spike spluttered with a slight blush. “I know I might be too old for this… But could you read me a bedtime story like you used to? I think I’ll be able to sleep better that way.”

“Teehee!” Twilight giggle gently as she held her hoof over her mouth. “Yeah, I could do that, though I’m not sure if this library has too many storybooks. What do you want me to read?” she asked as her eyes shone radiantly with excitement. It seemed that after all these years, the bookworm pony still relished being a storyteller.

Spike pondered for a moment while rubbing his claws against his chin. “Something simple.”

“I’ll see what I can find.” Twilight got on her hooves and trotted out of the room, her horn lighting up once again.

Ponyville reclined elegantly under the sun, and today it was a particularly pleasant sight to behold. That’s not to say that this dainty community had been less than stellar before, but perhaps it required an exceptionally fine day as this for the town’s picturesque beauty to truly shine forth. Surely it didn’t—bar the newly-formed tree-palace—possess the glamour of Canterlot, nor did it bear any semblance to the bustling metropolis of Manehattan. But it didn’t need to; its charm lay precisely in its simplicity, and harmony with the surrounding scenery.

But it’s also a charm that’s kind of underappreciated, Spike thought, at least on my part. For the young dragon, after all these years of living in Ponyville, it was only a while ago that he’d even begun to truly take notice of the extent of its beauty.

Spike found himself frequently wandering about the town lately. His first leisurely ambles were centered on Ponyville’s more bustling quarters, like the marketplace. His more recent adventures, however, have brought him further away from the heart of the community and towards its outskirts. It was there that the dragon discovered a marvel perhaps even more spellbinding than the town itself: the nature.

He strolled through the trail of the Running of the Leaves, which was beginning to herald the arrival of autumn. He revisited Ghastly Gorge, and for the first time stood aghast at how fathomless it was. He even returned Froggy Bottom Bogg once. It sure didn’t look anything like an inviting vacation destination, and Rarity would probably be incredibly squeamish about its… muddiness. Still, for what it was, Spike had to admit that even it had its charms.

Of course, all of this luxury wouldn’t had been possible without Twilight being occupied with pretty much nothing but studying recently, which for Spike meant getting lots of days off. A while ago Celestia asked her former apprentice to do some research on some little-known lands that lay outside of Equestria. Things started off slowly, but once Twilight struck gold in the old castle’s library—which she constantly praised as a “veritable goldmine of information”—she had been making steady progress.

In fact, Twilight adored the place so much that she had been doing most of her research over there recently, transforming the Princesses’ former personal reading room into a makeshift study room. To take things even further, she would occasionally spent the night over there, mostly along with Spike. At times they were joined by Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who took advantage of the half-destroyed castle’s eerie atmosphere to scare each other with ghost stories.

With Twilight busy, Spike had all the time in the world to himself, save a couple of instances in which she required his assistance in compiling some notes. During this time he also acquired his new favourite hobby. Of course, when he wasn’t on his adventures, he would also hang out with his friends, especially with one particular unicorn.

At first, this newfound freedom was a truly fascinating experience. However, as much as he enjoyed his new lifestyle, part of Spike longed for the time when he actually felt like Twilight’s assistant; he knew of course he still was, but recently he hadn’t been helping her out very much. Not that she needed it anyway, but perhaps the lack of errands to run and chores to do invoked a feeling that Spike had only experienced until now: a sense of purposelessness. The more he thought of it, the more certain he was that this was where his recent existential crisis partly stemmed from, although it was far from the whole story.

It also got him thinking about things even further into the future: obviously I can’t spend my whole life just being Twilight’s assistant. I do enjoy helping her out, but what about my own life? Everypony seems to have something to strive for, so what about me? Why am I here? What is my purpose? What is my… destiny?

“Spike, could you also fetch me some purple ribbon. I believe I’ve left a strip somewhere near the sewing machine.”

Strangely, there was a tinge of apprehension embedded in that voice. Still, having it grace his ears was more than enough to allay whatever worries Spike had on his mind, at least temporarily. Obviously his mind wasn’t where the rest of him was while he did his soul-searching; and then there was that beautiful voice. Back into the real world he was, and all at once he remembered that he was at the Carousel Boutique.

Before him was a mannequin fitted with a dazzling new dress that, save some minor nuances, was almost complete. Somehow he was holding a couple of fine-looking rubies in his claws. They sure looked tasty, but those things were supposed to go on the dress instead of being gobbled up into his stomach.

Moments later the gems were magically levitated by a light blue aura and arranged in a concise but delicate fashion on the collar of the dress. It didn’t take long for Spike to figure out that it was unicorn magic at work, and its wielder was none other than the elegant, porcelain mare standing next to him, meticulously adding the final touches to her latest creation.

“Sure thing,” Spike replied in a heartbeat.

As the dragon scurried across the floor of Rarity’s inspiration room, he never noticed her taking a moment’s pause from her work. The fashionista furrowed her brow, and her eyes emanated puzzlement as they followed Spike to the sewing machine.

It took him a while to uncover the ribbon. For a mare who was averse to all things untidy and disorderly, this place certainly wasn’t as organized as one would expect, especially when the flames of Rarity’s creative spirit burned at their most vigorous: on such days, this room would approach levels of disarray only seen when Twilight decided to work on some strenuous research project, which, by the way, was pretty much what she’d been up to recently.

“Here it is!” Spike exclaimed as he proudly presented to the seamstress the last piece of adornment for her new dress. She promptly resumed working.

The dragon watched as Rarity tied a bow with the strip of ribbon. After carefully attached it to the headpiece and making some final adjustments, she let out a sigh of satisfaction, signaling at last the completion of her brand new ensemble.

“So, what do you think, Spike?”

“It’s perfect… Just like the pony who made it...” he replied; it was one of the dragon’s generic answers to such questions. After all, he was certainly not somepony who had even the slightest grasp of the art of the dress, much less a fashion critic. Nonetheless, he’d be lying if he said that all the time he’d spent with Rarity didn’t make him at least a little more fashion-conscious.

“Oh, Spike, you’re such a delight. And thanks for assisting me, I do appreciate it very much,” Rarity said as she patted the little dragon’s head. She beamed with glee; Spike felt himself melt a little, and it was as if his worries were banished to the moon, at least temporarily.

“Glad to help, milady. By the way, who’s this dress for?” he asked. “It looks rather… different from all the other ones you’ve made recently.”

“Why, this one is actually for myself. I did try out a bolder, and dare I say slightly avant-garde design this time around. And of course, I think it turned out more than alright, which means I’ll definitely make more ensembles in this style!”

If there’s another thing that Spike had picked up from all the time he spent at the Carousel Boutique, it was the appreciation of the so-called creative process. Rarity had always been an immensely talented mare when it came to her field, but the way her ever-creative mind operated was so magical that even without the aid of some freaky dark magic, it still sometimes surpassed Pinkie’s dissonant logic in terms of scariness. Just another reason to admire her, I guess.

“So, anything else I can help out with?”

“That’s all there is for today, Spike,” the unicorn replied. “However… You… eh… How should I put this?” She bit her lips and gave him a perplexed look. Something was apparently a little off.

“Is something wrong, Rarity?” Spike asked caringly.

“Spike, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been acting a little… strangely as of late,” Rarity said, narrowing her eyes.

“Wh-what do you mean?” the dragon stuttered, visibly startled by this question which came out of nowhere.

Did she catch me drifting off to my inner thoughts?

“You’ve been more withdrawn and silent today, or should I say, for several days on end, and sometimes it feels as if you’re… I’m trying to think of a nicer way to say ‘not really there,’” she explained.

Of course, the dragon thought, there’s no hiding from a pony who pays attention to every little detail.

“Do you happen to have something you’d like to talk about, Spike?” the white unicorn asked attentively as she bent down.

Yeah. I’m having an existential crisis.

The two friends had chatted about all kinds of topics lately, some of which was rather deep for what their friends would normally talk about. Still, their conversations had never extended to anything concerning that stuff. It’s not like the ponies would know what to do about them. That’s probably the least of their concerns.

“Well… actually…” Spike mumbled.

And Rarity, of all ponies… I know she’s smart and caring and all, but can she even grasp what I’m going through when she’s a pony that’s literally living her destiny? Then again, it was also me who brought it up to Twilight in the first place…

For a moment Spike was overcome with indecision, and he stood in front of the unicorn struggling to speak coherently. The good feelings he had just moments ago had now been supplanted by a lingering sense of awkwardness.

Well, I guess there isn’t really any harm in that, although I doubt she’d understand. At least she seems concerned, so maybe I should tell her about it, he reassured himself.

Why not? Spike thought as he attempted to begin his lengthy ramble.

“Well… several things have been bothering me lately. I’ve talked to Twilight, but she doesn’t seem to really… get me. And maybe I don’t get her either; you see, Rarity… I’ve been doing some thinking…” he began.

The fashionista nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Some really deep thinking, like… What am I… er… Wait a second…” A long pause followed as the little dragon struggled to translate his thoughts into words. This time it was definitely more difficult than the time he told Twilight about it.

“Spike,” Rarity interrupted, “I suppose I have been a little imprudent. If you don’t feel comfortable talking about—”

“No!” Spike countered assertively. “I mean…” His tone reverted to that of uncertainty. “I do want to tell you; it’s just that I don’t exactly know how to put this… Maybe we should sit down first…”

Then it occurred to Spike that he was also not sure about how much he should tell Rarity. He was inclined to keep certain things unspoken. The very first time he resorted to Twilight for advice, the dragon told her everything on his mind without any reservation. It had been a while since then, but Spike hadn’t forgotten about its unpleasant aftermath.

Meanwhile, bewilderment struck Rarity as she watched her usually straightforward friend stuck in a state of perplexity. The unicorn levitated two stools towards them and seated herself on one of them. Spike followed suit and sat down next to her.

“Rarity…” the dragon finally began, “can I ask you something first? I guess it’s a better way to start this off, although you might think my question’s a little weird.”

“Sure, Spike. You can ask me about anything,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes.

Can I be your special some—darn it, Spike! Don’t get carried away. This is serious business!

“How do you know that dressmaking is really your destiny?” He finally made some progress.

Rarity slightly tilted her head back upon hearing his question. “Why, I think that’s rather obvious, isn’t it?”

“I mean… uh…” he stuttered. “Don’t get me wrong; you’re one of the most talented ponies in Equestria, and you make beautiful dresses. But how can you be sure that you’re really meant to do all of this with your life? Is it all because of your cutie mark?”

“Why yes, Spike,” the unicorn replied. “Earning a cutie mark did play a rather crucial part in all of this, although—”

“I knew it…” Spike interjected before she could continue. “That’s also what Twilight said; more or less.”

“Well, I suppose these emblems are of symbolic importance to ponies. But why would you be frustrating over something like that?”

Spike took a deep breath. “You see, Rarity, I’m a dragon…”

As soon as these words reached Rarity’s ears, the weirdness surrounding Spike’s inquiry on cutie marks had all but dissipated. Dragon: that was the only word occupying the unicorn’s increasingly disarrayed mentation. She tried to keep her emotions in check, but even Spike had noticed that her usual disposition had been replaced by a much more unsettled expression.

“And I promise this doesn’t involve going on the Great Dragon Migration again!” he quickly added, hoping to dispel whatever unpleasant recollections she had on her mind. “This has nothing to do with me wanting to be more like a dragon, whatever that means…”

The unicorn gave a dramatic sigh of relief as she regained her composure. “I’m glad to hear that, Spike. You do realize how worried sick I—and our friends were last time.”

“I know…” Spike replied sheepishly, feeling more than guilty for getting his crush all worked up. “And actually I was about to say that this time it’s kind of the other way around…”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” Rarity asked cluelessly.

“Well, I’m a dragon who has been living in pony society ever since I was a baby, and I’m fine with that. But recently I can’t help but think that it’s a little funny… you know, being the only dragon in a place where everyone else is a pony.”

“I, for one, can certainly understand how it feels to be too conspicuous, Spike,” Rarity said, still not knowing where this conversation would go.

“But it’s different, Rarity,” Spike countered. “You stand out from other ponies because you’re talented; I stand out only because I’m different, because I’m a dragon…”

Rarity focused her gaze on him. “I certainly don’t see any harm in that.” And before Spike could say anything else, a tender sensation suddenly graced his face.

“And you do realize that we love you for what you are, right? Why, you’re my favourite dragon!” the unicorn squealed as she picked his checks affectionately.

Spike found himself wrapped in the warmth and tenderness of Rarity’s caress. He faced flushed, and he wished that he could stay like this forever and just forget whatever they were talking about. Still, perhaps self-discovery was one of the few things the dragon yearned for more than the unicorn’s affection.

“Thanks, Rarity,” he said with his face still red. “I think it’s awesome having you guys as friends too, but that wasn’t really my point… What I’m trying to say is that compared to being a dragon, it just seems being a pony is so much easier.”

Rarity gave him a look of utter shock. “I’m honestly astounded to hear that, Spike.”

“Well, it’s like what I’ve asked you earlier… You ponies have all these fancy cutie marks… You have an identity, a destiny, and you’re able to find it when the time comes; I mean… seems that you guys were born with a purpose.”

Spike’s words struck Rarity as something of an epiphany to say the least, and all at once she could fully comprehend what the little dragon was trying to get across. Much to her surprise, it was something that had far transcended his previous worries regarding him not being a “true dragon”: that and his current frustration were similar in sense that they both concerned self identity, but otherwise Rarity felt it was a vastly different, and far more complex issue this time.

The unicorn felt something akin to pride about Spike, seeing how he had grown into somepony that was somewhat sophisticated; in his own ways, that is. At the same time, she also felt a little concerned.

“But I’m a dragon,” Spike droned on, his voice becoming increasingly quavery. “I don’t have a cutie mark. I don’t have anything that can tell me whether I’m on the right path or not. I don’t know what I was born to do. And with Twilight being busy with her research recently and not needing me around that much, I’m even less certain about what I should do. I feel that I lack a sense of—”

“—purpose?” the unicorn finished for him.

“Yeah…” Spike replied. “I’m not sure who I should be…” The purple dragon could feel tears about to escape from his emerald eyes. No, not now, he urged himself, not in front of Rarity! Keep it together, Spike!

Silence briefly reigned over the room. Rarity tapped her chin thoroughly as she pondered on the matter. Her facial expression gradually shifted to something that wasn’t too dissimilar to that she bore whenever she had just conjured up a new fashion line.

“Well, thanks for listening to me blabber on my recent issues anyway,” Spike said resignedly, breaking the silence. “I didn’t really expect us to come up with anything. I mean, not even Twilight was able to give me a satisfying answer; not saying that you’re not as smart as her, hehe…”

Spike glanced at the clock; it was approaching noon. Then he turned his eyes back to Rarity, who appeared to be in the middle of some serious brainstorming, or puzzlement; he couldn’t really tell.

“Spike,” she finally said in a speculative tone as her eyes met his, “so you were implying that a pony, or in your case, a dragon, has to obtain some sort of… er… indicator in order to know that what they’re supposed to be?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Spike replied, trying his best not to appear unamused by the fact that Rarity had just repeated what he said moments ago, albeit in a much organized and concise manner. “You just said it yourself: that’s what cutie marks are for,” he added.

“Actually, Spike, I never had the chance to finish that part, with you being so talkative all of a sudden,” Rarity admitted. “Compared to this morning, that is.”

“Oh… Sorry…” Spike said embarrassingly. He rubbed the back of his head and blushed again. “Guess I should’ve let you finish first.”

“That’s quite alright. What I’m about to tell you is a very…” The usually eloquent unicorn trailed off to fumble for the right word. “It’s a very ‘pony’ thing. I’m not a dragon, Spike, so I’m afraid that I cannot speak for your kind. I can, however, speak of my experiences as a pony, some of which you might find to be at least a little insightful.”

“Really?” Spike asked, clearly more animated than a while ago, although he restrained himself from being too hopeful.

“I believe so,” Rarity assured him. “And you must also believe me when I say that being a pony far from as simple as you think, even when we are gifted with cutie marks.”

“I know,” the little dragon sighed. “That’s also what Twilight told me. She said that earning a cutie mark is only the beginning, and there many other things to learn in life. She even used herself as an example; you know, how she used to think that her didn’t have a purpose as a princess, and how having a cutie mark didn’t really do that much to answer her doubts, but—”

“And what she said is very much the truth, Spike. Earning our cutie marks might inform us that we’re on the right path, but it never stops us from doubting whether we really are,” the fashionista explained.

“But that’s just temporary, Rarity,” Spike argued. “Once you make it through, you’ll find that your cutie mark does really symbolize what you’re meant to be.”

Rarity shook her head. “That’s merely the wisdom of hindsight, Spike. Why, when I first opened the boutique, my career didn’t take off nearly as rapidly as I anticipated, and during those hard times, even a pony who values her expertise so much as myself couldn’t but wallow in self-denial. I felt lost, Spike, probably as much as you do now.”

Spike found it difficult not to sympathize with the seamstress. “Wow. You never really told me about that before.”

“And at that time, I had already acquired my cutie mark: three absolutely fabulous gemstones. They sure didn’t look so agreeable anymore. I was genuinely afraid, Spike, and I started thinking about… things, some of which were rather ridiculous in retrospect…” Rarity admitted, blushing faintly.

“Really? Can you tell me?” the dragon asked curiously.

“Well, it would occasionally occur to me that I’ve somehow gotten the wrong cutie mark! Spike, be a dear and do keep this a secret. I don’t want our friends laughing—”

“I will,” he promised, but not before giggling a fair bit himself. “That was kind of funny.” He would’ve laugh even longer had he not recalled a certain incident: actually, that’s kind of possible… when somepony messes up a Star Swirl spell…

“It’s terrible to ridicule a lady, Spike, but I’m elated to see that you’re finally brightening up a bit!” the unicorn exclaimed with glee.

“So what else was on your mind back then, Rarity?” Spike asked.

“Well, I also thought that perhaps I’ve misinterpreted what my cutie mark meant,” Rarity said.

More giggles rose from the dragon’s throat. “That’s one of the silliest things I’ve ever heard!”

“Yes, Spike, I know, but do take a moment to consider just how many things concern gemstones,” she demanded. “However was I to know if they really pertained to my expertise or something altogether different? The same goes for Applejack, or Twilight, or anypony, for that matter; at the end of the day, it’s merely vague symbolism, Spike.”

“I guess it does make sense when you put it that way,” Spike acknowledged. “Maybe I was too quick to jump to conclusions, hehe…”

“But then again,” Rarity continued, “perhaps that’s not really the point. Over time I came to learn that it’s often not the inherent meaning of things that truly matter, Spike, but the meaning you bestow upon them.”

“You mean—”

“Twilight did not become the princess of friendship solely because of her cutie mark, Spike; it was a meaning she chose for herself. Likewise, I chose to believe that this is my destiny, and I also chose to believe that my cutie mark reinforces this belief. I could be wrong, of course—no, I suppose I am correct. But regardless of that…”

The unicorn paused as she noticed dragon nodding his head to her words. A sigh of relief escaped from her mouth, and she felt a sense of achievement inside.

“But Rarity, I’m still rather clueless.”

That immediately forced Rarity to retract this sentiment. “What?” she gasped in disbelief.

“Well, now I am somewhat convinced that being a pony is not that easy, but it’s still a whole lot easier than being a dragon. I mean… you still have cutie marks to guide you, and that makes all the difference.”

Rarity frowned. “Spike, when did you become so obsessive over cuties marks?”

“I don’t know. I guess I can be a honourary member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, haha,” the dragon half-heartedly joked.

The unicorn’s eyebrows knitted together as she deliberated on the matter; the dragon was surely much more stubborn than she had thought.

“Spike, since you’re not in a hurry to go anywhere soon, would you mind if I share my thoughts on a certain incident with you?”

“Sure,” Spike replied, “I could use all the help I can get.”

“It was after this particular ordeal that I started finding myself doubting whether there is a definite relation between one’s cutie mark and destiny, or identity, for that matter.”

“Why?” the dragon asked unbelievingly. “Isn’t that like… common sense among ponies?”

“Yes, Spike, and I can definitely see why. However, none of the other ponies have experienced what I, and our friends have gone through either,” the unicorn explained. “Minus Twilight,” she quickly added.

“What’s that?” Spike asked inquiringly.

“Do you remember the time she accidentally tweaked with our cutie marks, and we all had ourselves caught up in various not so glamourous situations?”

“Oh yeah, I remember that…” Spike replied. It was a heartbreaking yet amusing experience, to say the least.

“Well, I recall that I received Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark and ended up wreaking havoc in Ponyville with erratic weather patterns. Eh… the very thought of those horrific moments still make me quiver…” Rarity exclaimed dramatically as she put the back of her hoof to her forehead. “That defective spell Twilight had unknowingly cast on us tricked me into believing that weather control was my destiny; at the time, Spike, I genuinely believed,” she stressed.

The dragon, wearing a confused yet dull expression, was obviously having trouble following Rarity’s logic.

“But in retrospect, it’s obvious that I was never meant to dabble with weather control, in the same way our friends weren’t meant to live each other’s lives. It wasn’t something that was mine, even if my cutie mark told me so, and even if I believed so. You know why, Spike?”

“Uh…” Spike hesitated, his eyes betraying the fact that Rarity’s question did not seemed to resonate with him. “Isn’t it rather obvious? I mean… the whole thing was just a mistake. You were—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. “That’s one way to see it, Spike. But from my perspective, there much more than meets the eye. And it there’s one thing I’ve learned through the years, it is that many important things are not obvious, or self-evident, as I would prefer.”

Spike smirked. “You’re starting to sound like Twilight, the lecturer.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rarity replied with an esteemed bearing. “Anyway, when our friends asked me to start making dresses again, I was at first dumbfounded. But when I turned on the sewing machine, I felt something that never did occur to me during my short tenure as a weathermare.”

“Familiarity?” Spike guessed nonchalantly.

“Not quite. I felt it again when I levitated fabrics in the air, and yet again when I completed my new dress, although in hindsight it was a little rough around the edges—it was happiness, Spike.”

“Uh, so what does this have to do with anything?” Spike uttered. It was just a simple mistake that Twilight made. It was purely an accident. What is she trying to make out of it? Maybe she’s overanalyzing things…

“What I’m trying to say, Spike, is that I had never felt a special bond to my altered destiny: it was something that I had to do, but surely not something I wanted to do, and it was most certainly not something I relished. No offense to Rainbow Dash, but having a thundery rainbow as my cutie mark doesn’t make any difference.”

Rarity’s mouth went dry, forcing her to pause for a break. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she delivered such a long-winded lecture; it probably involved Sweetie Belle getting herself into trouble.

She met Spike’s gaze and smiled. “It’s what I feel that really matters. And when I feel for something, I can safely say that it’s my destiny, even if my cutie mark suggests otherwise. That was how I was able to break free of the spell; of course, I wouldn’t have made it without our friends,” Rarity finished confidently.

In that moment, something in Spike’s mind suddenly clicked: he wasn’t completely sure what is was, but he had to take a moment to collect himself before he could speak again as a myriad of thoughts surged through his head.

“So,” the dragon said, “does this mean that cutie marks are not actually as important as we think?”

“Oh no,” Rarity gasped. “It wasn’t at all my intention to denigrate cutie marks, but they’re not the only thing that defines us.” She gently placed her hoof over Spike’s chest. “It’s what you feel in here that truly matters: this applies to ponies, and I suppose it does to dragons, too.”

Spike’s eyes shone with renewed hope. “Wow, Rarity, what you just said sounds a lot like what Twilight was trying to tell me all along; it’s just so much clearer and convincing.”

“Haha,” Rarity giggled, “that good to hear, Spike. I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly satisfactory lecturer! Twilight did try her best to help you though, that I’m sure of.”

“Well, yeah. But it’s hard to really ‘get it’ when she just keeps telling me to find something I like to do. I mean... it’s so abstract; and she never spoke of cutie marks in the way you did,” the dragon remarked.

“Well, she was spared the misfortune of having to endure that madness. But I’m sure we all did learn something from that experience.” The white unicorn blinked fondly at the dragon. “So, Spike, have your worries finally been laid to rest?” Her confident expression suggested that she was anticipating a positive answer.

They sure have, part of Spike wanted to say out loud, but the truth was that he didn’t feel a sense of closure just yet. However, he didn’t want to see Rarity’s disappointment when he breaks it to her either; the mere thought of that made him wince inside.

“Well, actually… no… Not yet. I think something’s still missing…” Spike had to force himself real hard to say that.

“Aww…” The unicorn pouted.

“But I do feel a lot better now. In fact, I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time. Thanks, Rarity.” He could barely resist the urge to hug the mare tightly in his arms.

The dragon’s words elicited a warm smile from the unicorn. “It’s my pleasure, Spike.”

“Can I ask you one last question though?” Spike said.

“Why, of course you can!”

“So, if cutie marks aren’t as straightforward I think, then what is their purpose exactly?”

“Spike,” Rarity said, “I do believe this question is best reserved for a pony well-versed in magic, like Twilight.”

“I know; I just want to hear what you think,” he insisted.

“Well, I certainly can’t give you a concrete answer.” The unicorn contemplated for a while. “I’d like to think of them as a crucial part of discovering ‘who I am,’ as you would put it, perhaps an affirmation of sorts. But I’m sure they’re not the only thing in this world capable of accomplishing that.”

The dragon nodded his head lightly in response. For a moment his gaze met Rarity’s; the way she beamed not only displayed a sense of fulfillment, but also utter beauty. Oh, Rarity, how I—

“So, what else has been troubling you as of late, Spike?”

Like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, those words instantly knocked Spike out of his reverie. Ah, rats. Not again.

“Uh—I—w-what was that?” he stuttered nervously, pretending that he didn’t hear her clearly.

Rarity leaned forward attentively. “Well, when you said that several things have been bothering you, you weren’t just referring to the lack of a cutie mark, were you?”

Rarity… you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Uhg… I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this again! Okay, Spike, don’t panic, don’t… But what if she takes it even worse than Twilight?!

“Is everything okay, Spike?” The perceptive unicorn had obviously felt the tremors of Spike’s inner turmoil.

Spike scolded himself internally. Part of him wanted to come up with a lame excuse to end this conversation immediately, but his sudden loss of composure had already given away everything. Taking a deep breath, he was barely collected enough to speak intelligibly.

Here it goes.

“Rarity, listen… I don’t know how much of this I should tell you, or if I should tell you at all,” he said somberly. “I told Twilight quite a while ago, and she took it badly. Like, really badly. I mean… I saw her crying on her desk in the middle of the night…”

“Oh my,” Rarity gasped, wondering just what could’ve elicited such a strong response from her usually emotional stable friend.

“And after seeing her like that… I never had the courage to mention it to her again; I even lied to her that I’ve gotten over it. But the truth is… it’s bothering me more and more each day…” The dragon twisted his face and winced. “I mean, it’s understandable since we basically grew up together, and she was even the one who hatched me. But it’s still horrible, and I don’t ever want to see anypony like that! Especially you…”

Uhg! Way to go, Spike, he berated himself for letting the last two words slip out.

Oh dear, Rarity thought, this isn’t what I think it is, is it?

“So I won’t tell you unless you demand it,” Spike insisted with a solemn expression that Rarity hadn’t never seen on her dragon friend before. “And if you really want to hear about it… well, you better be prepared.”

“Spike… I…” Rarity’s voice died down midsentence. She closed her eyes momentarily, but felt her composure faltering still as a plethora of thoughts and memories flooded her mind.

“Although… maybe you already know what I’m talking about, being the totally smart pony you are…” Spike flattered in a feeble attempt to lighten up the atmosphere.

Could he be referring to his—now, Rarity, we all knew that this day would come, and purposely avoiding it won’t do any good. You do realize that he is after all a dragon, and you… and your friends are ponies. And whether you like it or not, there are certain differences that you must come to terms with…

Rarity couldn’t but grimace a little. But I never expected it to come today! Maybe he isn’t referring to that… Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Rarity! What else in Equestria could he possibly be referring to besides that? He’s already made it so blatant by mentioning Twilight!

“I’m ready, Spike.” That came out rather arbitrarily. No, she immediately regretted inside, what did I just say?

“Y-you sure?” Spike asked skeptically. She sure didn’t look so certain.

“Yes, Spike. W-whatever it is, we’ll… face it together. Hiding from your problems will only make them worse.” Rarity tried her best to act unperturbed, although her tremulous voice not too subtly suggested otherwise.

“I know, but—”

“And it was I who started this conversation after all. It would be unlady of me to simply stop here,” she added adamantly.

“If you say so,” the dragon relented. “Th-there are two things actually…”

Two?!

“I’ll start with the slightly less severe one… Rarity, I know that both you and Twilight told me to find something that I like to do, or feel for, and I think I understand that a little better now…”

That’s good to hear, the unicorn tried to comfort herself.

“But what if…” his voice was trembling again, “what if my destiny is to be something that I don’t want to be?”

“Whatever do you mean, Spike?” the unicorn asked, “I thought you understood that you could be anything you like, as long as you—”

“No, you don’t understand, Rarity,” Spike exclaimed impatiently, only to immediately soften his voice, seeing that the unicorn was slightly taken aback by his sudden outburst. “Sorry…”

“That’s okay, Spike.”

“I mean… what if my future’s already predetermined?” the purple dragon clarified.

“Why would you think so, Spike? Nothing is truly determined until you make your choices,” the unicorn reassured him, “and I know you’ll be making them wisely.”

Seeing that Rarity had completely missed his point, Spike decided to cut to the chase. To do so he had to recall a certain event, one he wasn’t particularly fond of. It was also rather embarrassing: he pretty much spilled out his feelings for the mare on that day.

“Rarity, do you remember what happened a couple of years ago on my birthday? I-I started hoarding other ponies’ stuff and became this huge rampaging—”

“Spike,” Rarity interrupted, finally grasping where he was going, “you do remember who saved Ponyville at the end of the day, don’t you?”

Well, technically it was you, Spike wanted to answer. That of course, would just muddle the issue even further.

“It was you, Spike, and I’ve never been so proud of you,” Rarity said comfortingly, gracing him with a dainty smile.

“But that’s just one instance, Rarity,” the dragon disagreed. “And now that I come to think of it, I saw certain things when I went on the dragon migration…”

Her smile instantly vanished. “Spike, you should really be more confident—”

“I saw what ‘normal’ dragons do, and it’s terrible; you and Twilight and Rainbow Dash saw it too. They wanted me to smash that defenceless phoenix egg. They were nothing like ponies, Rarity. They were selfish, rude, mean and most importantly, greedy. And they were just teenage dragons!” Spike remarked scornfully. “Don’t even get me started on what older, bigger dragons do… They hoard gems and—”

The worried unicorn threw a hoof over the dragon’s mouth before he could finish venting his disgust at his own kind. Spike's rant was far from finished, but he eventually acquiesced and spoke no more.

Rarity gently lifted his chin. “Now, Spike, I’m sure not all dragons are as uncouth as you think; why, take the one who decided to take a nap on the outskirts of Ponyville for instance! He was considerate enough to depart when dear Fluttershy—”

“Yeah, after he blew thick smoke which sent the rest of you flying and crashing into a rock,” Spike interjected sarcastically, much to the dismay of the unicorn. “Twilight told me about it…”

Thanks a lot, Twilight, Rarity thought. That was a pathetic example… “But Spike,” she said, digressing from this topic, “I thought that you knew you didn’t need to be like other dragons.”

“And trust me, I don’t want to. But what if that’s what I’ll end up becoming? My birthday already proved that I have that potential. What if it happens again? What if I start hurting other ponies?” Spike felt tears welling up in his eyes once more, and unlike last time, he hardly felt the motivation to hold them back.

“Spike please—”

“Will I’ll be forced to leave Ponyville forever?”

Leave Ponyville?! Rarity couldn’t hold back a wince.

“What if I’m meant to be like those other dragons all along?”

The unicorn shot him a stern, yet reassuring look. “No, Spike. You’re not,” she replied, much to his surprise, and disbelief.

“What?”

“You’re not going to be like them, Spike,” she reiterated.

“How do you know, Rarity?” the dragon asked incredulously.

“I-I don’t know, Spike.” Rarity’s resolution wavered a little, but returned in full force as she opened her mouth again. “I believe.”

“Eh… What?”

The mare’s eyes shimmered with renewed determination. “I have faith in you, Spike. I believe that you are different from other dragons, and that you will not so easily succumb to greed and temptation. Even if there is a rampaging dragon somewhere within of you, I still refuse to believe that you are anything but kind, sweet, and generous at heart. And that’s the Spike I’ve always known.” And that’s the Spike I’ve grown to—oh, stop it, Rarity. This is no time for your nonsense!

Spike couldn’t help blushing yet again. By then he had long lost count of how many times his face had burned from within this morning.

“And even if the worst happens, I’m sure we’ll find a way to change you back. You’ll find a way to change yourself back, Spike,” Rarity reassured him.

“B-but how can you be so sure that I’ll be able to do that?”

“You’ve missed the point, dear,” Rarity replied as she put her hoof over his shoulder. “I don’t need to be sure; I just need to believe in you, and I do.” The unicorn smiled; it was a genuine smile, not one that was feigned just to cheer up her friend.

“Wow… you really believe in me this much?” She believes in me, even after what I did to her on my birthday… Then what am I doing?

“I do, Spike. And I think it’s time you do the same for yourself.”

“I’ll… I’ll try… Thanks, Rarity,” a now slightly relaxed Spike sighed. “Sometimes I think you guys have more faith in me than I do.”

“You shouldn’t think too much, Spike,” Rarity said. “Although I can definitely understand why Twilight would react in the manner she did over this matter.”

“Actually…” Spike felt a shiver down his spine as the comfort that Rarity’s words had just brought him faded. “Twilight was a little unsettled when I mentioned this to her, but I think it was something else that got her really upset…”

The unicorn opened her mouth, as if to say something, but quickly closed it again. She found herself involuntarily averting her eyes from Spike, but being the perceptive pony she was, she could sense nothing but utter consternation in his eyes as he hung his head low, staring idly at the floor: it was one of the most heartbreaking things she’d ever seen.

Oh, Rarity, how impetuous can you be? You’ve already burdened him by forcing him to confess everything he possibly could! Now, thanks to you, he’s left with no choice but to confront his greatest fear, and along with him, you! Is this really what it’d come to?

Hiding from your problems will only make them worse, a thin yet perfectly discernible voice called to the troubled seamstress in her mind. Coming from herself, Rarity found it slightly ironic and unconvincing. As much as she exalted herself, she’s also well aware of how frail she could be at times. Such a bold and assertive sentiment, the mare wondered just how much of it she could ever live up to.

But at least you could offer others what you have, and assist them in overcoming their problems, right? You are the Element of Generosity…

A sudden feeling of serenity came upon Rarity; it felt slightly out of place, though not at all unpleasant. Her attention returned to Spike, who sat crestfallenly without a word, a sight she couldn’t bear to witness any longer. In that moment, she knew that she had to be the one to break the silence this time.

“Spike,” Rarity said slightly nervously, “I believe I know what you are referring to.”

“You do?” Spike finally replied.

“Yes, and I am prepared,” the unicorn said firmly.

The dragon sighed. “Then I guess I should stop beating around the bush… since you already know what I’m talking about…”

“Spike,” Rarity said as her gaze met his. Her countenance was that of solemnity, perhaps adorned with a hint of fear, but it was also solicitous. It appeared somewhat juxtaposed next to an unsettled Spike, but even he couldn’t help but feel at least a little pacified by her warm demeanour.

Rarity swallowed before she continued. “Twilight was sad because she knows that you can’t always be there for her, just like she, or any of us for that matter, can’t always be there for you.”

The somber little dragon didn’t speak, but his expression clearly showed that Rarity had indeed been right about the ordeal.

“You are a dragon, Spike. You’ll be youthful and exuberant long after we ponies have grown old and frail,” Rarity said regretfully. “And when we…” She barely managed to finish her sentence. “When we finally pass on… you’ll still have thousands of years ahead of you. I’m sorry, Spike, but—”

Spike waved his claws dismissively. “You don’t have to say that, Rarity. It isn’t anypony’s fault,” he uttered resignedly. “Twilight says that it’s something I’ll just have to accept; I know that’s probably what you’re going to say, too. But… I don’t think I ever can… I try not to think about it too often, but I-I… I just… I wish none of this had to happen…”

“Spike, I know how difficult it is to come to terms with your immortality… Relative to us ponies, that is.” The unicorn’s voice softened and she leaned forward. “But... you wouldn’t want to live a life of regret, would you?”

Spike shut his eyes. When he opened them, he shot her a look of utter hopelessness. “I don’t know if that’s up to me to decide…”

A sharp pang of erupted from the unicorn’s heart, prompting her to pull him into a consoling embrace. Spike rested his weary head on her shoulder, and felt a gentle hoof patting his back; it managed to lessen his sadness, just by a little.

“There’s much more to life than sorrow and loss, Spike,” Rarity said softly. “There are many paths you can choose, and not all of them have to lead to heartache.”

“I know… But what’s the point of living a life in which you have to watch everyone you love go?” He did not expect an answer to his question, and there wasn’t. “I-I… I don’t think I can live without you, Twilight, all the others…”

“Yes you can, Spike,” Rarity replied, clinging onto him even more tightly. “And you must, because this is your life. Instead of dwelling on these disheartening thoughts, why not try to make the best out of it?”

Unbeknown to Spike, Rarity wasn’t truly convinced by what she had just said; in fact, she wasn’t quite sure whether all this optimism was really genuine. Nonetheless, she knew that she at least had to convince Spike. Let’s put these thoughts aside for a while, Rarity. This is for Spike!

“How do I do that?” the dragon countered bluntly, clearly not expecting a remedy to his inevitable fate.

“Well…” The unicorn broke the hug and furrowed her brow. “Why, take Princess Celestia and Princess Luna for example!” she exclaimed with praise. “Just look at all the wonderful things they’re able to accomplish!”

“I know that, Rarity,” Spike replied impatiently, “they brought harmony to Equestria and they’re the best rulers we could ever ask for. However… like Princess Celestia… she must have made a lot of friends over the years, but… also lost of a lot them too. I’d be surprised if she didn’t feel sad about that…”

“Spike…” Rarity sighed.

“And I wonder how Princess Luna she felt when she returned to Equestria after a thousand years,” he continued. “Obviously a lot of things have changed, and none of her old friends are around anymore, except for her sister…”

Spike was positively shocked that he could deliver these gloomy thoughts in such a calm fashion. Perhaps having Rarity start off this off instead of him did somewhat lessen his burden, although the mere notion of outliving all his friends still felt unbearably heavy on his shoulders.

“You are far too pessimistic, Spike,” Rarity commented. “I’m sure that they are occasionally troubled by the ephemeral nature of their loved ones, but they’ve also remain unperturbed in the face of inevitability, Spike. If that weren’t the case, Equestria wouldn’t be half as gorgeous as it is in the present!”

“But—”

“Oh, where do I begin?” Rarity exclaimed. “They defeated Discord and restored peace to Equestria. They reigned with the purest of intentions for thousands of years, providing an haven for earth pones, pegasi, unicorns, and even dragons like you, Spike, a place where everypony is guaranteed their well-being and freedom to pursuit their aspirations!” Her voice became increasingly nonchalant as she went on. Rarity was rambling, and she realized that.

Spike also noticed; he wasn’t Applejack, but being good friends with the white unicorn, he could still detect when she was having conflicting thoughts, and something was telling him that although Rarity certainly had his best interests at heart, she might not have been completely honest with herself.

“Rarity, are you—”

“And not only are they the embodiment of greatness, but they inspire greatness! Had it not been for them, there wouldn’t be a Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity finished with forced smile.

“But they also have to watch all of this fade away…” Spike countered. He didn’t intend his comment to be ironic, but it ended up coming off as such anyway.

“Spike…” the unicorn sighed, now slightly more agitated, “I didn’t want to say this, but even if your life expectancy was similar to that of ponies, it’s… still inevitable that you’ll have to put up with the passing of at least some of your friends…”

“I know that…” the dragon muttered. “But that’s not what’s going to happen. Instead, I’ll have to watch all of you go, and after that, I’ll have to live for thousands of years without you… I don’t want to outlive all of you, it’s just not fair…” He finally gave in to his tears.

Rarity gently patted his shoulders. Part of her was compelled to weep along with the dragon, but to her surprise she managed to hold back her tears. “Spike, even if we’re gone, the wonderful memories we’ve made will always remain. And y-you will move on, Spike. You’ll meet other ponies, and make new friends.”

“That’s another problem,” Spike countered. “I know I’ll eventually be crying over the loss of a friend no matter what, but I don’t want to do it again and again. And of course I’ll cherish the memories between us, but…” His voice trembled. “When you live to be thousands of years old, everything just seems tiny and insignificant, and replaceable… Like when you lose something, you just have to find something similar to take its place, and it… feels unreal, Rarity; it scares me…”

He does have a point, Rarity thought. Actually, his reasoning is impeccable!

“Spike, I am deeply touched to hear that you value our friendship so fervently, but...” she answered, yet failing to formulate a proper response when she felt tears once again coming to her eyes. She quickly lowered her head, trying to conceal them with her mane.

Having made some effort to keep them back, the unicorn tilted her head up. “Sometimes I so wish that I could have a little more time to spare, Spike,” she said. “I have so many ideas, and I’m constantly conjuring up new ones; I wonder if they’ll ever materialize.”

“You mean… you want to have a longer lifespan, too?” Spike asked, wiping away his tears.

Oh dear. I wasn’t expecting our conversation to go in this direction.

Rarity was caught completely off-guard, and she struggled inside. Part of her wanted to give Spike a positive answer. “No, Spike,” she instead found herself saying. Well done, Rarity. There goes your credibility: one moment ago you spoke of immortality as if it were a gift from the Princesses themselves. Now you…

“But you said—”

The unicorn bit her lip nervously. “At least not when I’m alone to carry this burden,” she said. “My concerns are rather similar to yours, Spike. I wouldn’t want my loved ones to be a passing thing. It just doesn’t feel… right. Of course, when the same thing starts repeating itself indefinitely, you are most likely to grow indifferent at some point.”

“What do you mean?” the dragon asked curiously.

“Suppose that you could have a gem cake for breakfast every morning for the rest of your life, Spike. How would you feel?”

Spike’s eyes gleamed. “That would be kind of awesome.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow, as if expecting a different answer.

“But I guess it wouldn’t be that big of a deal in the long term; I’d probably grow sick of them within a month or two,” he amended.

The mare sighed. Am I really to say this?

“It’s the same when coping with the demise of your loved ones, Spike. When it’s something that occurs every so often, over time it no longer elicits such a strong response from you. But… I don’t want that to happen. I do not wish to become a jaded and apathetic mare confined to her own inner world, Spike, because I think that being able to feel and display happiness, sorrow, fear, anger, all these emotions, is what makes ponies… ponies. And I don’t ever want to lose that.”

Her voice was full of emotion and sincerity. In what seemed to be a reversal of roles, Rarity now had Spike—despite his troubled mind—patting her on the shoulder. “Hey… Cheer up, Rarity. It’s not like you’ll ever have to put up with that,” he said softly.

Rarity responded with a faint smile. “I know, Spike. I do tend to get overly melodramatic when pondering on the implications of such scenarios.” Her smile fell. “I-I must admit, when I come to think of it, your fears are perfectly justified, but—”

She was interrupted as Spike looked up at her with a serious expression. “R-Rarity… There’s something I need to ask you. You’re the first pony I’m going to ask; not even Twilight knows about this yet.”

I wonder what it could be.

“You see, E-E-Equestria is a magical land filled with all sorts of… uh… magic,” Spike stuttered nervously. “And, well… I don’t know if such a thing even exists, but if there’s a spell of something—and of course I’ll have Twilight make sure that it’s safe—that can—”

Rarity listened in silence; she did not like where this was going.

“—change my lifespan,”—he gulped hard, noting that there were no longer any hints of a smile on Rarity’s face—“would you let me use it?” he asked in the sincerest manner possible.

That moment, a feeling of sheer nausea overcame the unicorn. Spike would never have guessed why, but for Rarity, she knew all too well what it was.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rarity,” Spike sighed dejectedly. “You probably think I’m mad or something—”

No, you don’t know what I’m thinking, Spike… I—good gracious, Rarity! Don’t even think about letting your selfish desires meddle with his future! You are the Element of Generosity for Celestia’s sake!

“—and that it’s just not right to do such a thing. Twilight once told me that ponies think life is not something that should be tampered with; that’s why the unicorns have always been very cautious about things like age spells,” Spike explained. “And that’s why I’m asking you.”

Rarity shook her head with a crestfallen expression. “I don’t think I can answer this question, Spike.”

Spike’s shoulders drooped. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”

“Spike, it’s not that I don’t want you to be happy.” The unicorn lovingly slid her hoof across his cheek. “It’s just… if that were the case, I’d feel as if I were depriving you of your—”

“You’re not taking away anything from me, Rarity; it’s my decision,” Spike interjected, placing his claws on her hoof.

“But will it truly be worth it?” Rarity countered. “Surrendering the majority of your lifespan, and everything that could’ve been.” The unicorn grimaced. “Just for a couple of mere mortals like me… I don’t know about the others, Spike, but for me, seeing you make such a tremendous sacrifice is simply…”

Spike shrugged. “Rarity… Never mind; it’s not like such a thing exists anyway…”

Rarity exhaled. “Listen, Spike, I know that immortality comes with a multitude of rather frightening revelations, but you mustn’t let them get the best of you!”

“It’s just too hard…” Spike replied weakly.

“Please, Spike.” The unicorn put both her hooves on his shoulders and implored as sincerely as she could.

“Wh-when that day arrives, promise me that you’ll stay strong. Promise me that you’ll cherish our memories, and live the remainder of your life as the lively and delightful dragon you are now!”

“I-I…” His expression was tense, though more relaxed than before.

“Do it for yourself. And if you can’t… do it for Twilight. Do it for us,” she pleaded. Do it for me, she found herself almost saying. “We want you to be happy, Spike, even when we are no longer here: because you mean a lot to me—I-I mean—we—uh...”—Rarity, what has gotten into you as of late?!—“You mean a lot to us; to all of us.”

“I guess I could try,” the dragon relented in a more genuine fashion.

“At the very least, promise me that you’ll put these… bleak thoughts aside, at least for a while. If you dread the future, Spike, then do relish these moments when your loved ones are still here.”

That finally brought a smile back to Spike’s face. “Yeah. I could do that.” Seconds later he felt a tender sensation wrapped around his face.

The unicorn had bent over to nuzzle his cheek, and the dragon blushed yet again; some things would never change. “Thank you, Spike,” she whispered softly.

“I-I should be the one thanking you, Rarity. I actually feel a lot better now. In fact, a whole lot better.”

“Aww,” Rarity cooed as she gave Spike a tight hug, one that he gladly returned. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear to that coming from you!” the unicorn gushed.

“Sorry I ruined an otherwise delightful morning,” Spike apologized.

“Not at all. I could never bear to see my favourite dragon wallow in melancholy for a prolonged period of time!”

Rarity felt her stomach churn. She looked at the clock and realized it was a little past noon now. “I don’t know about you, Spike, but I’m feeling quite ravenous after this thoroughly engaging conversation.”

“Yeah. I should get going, too,” Spike said as he got off the stool.

“Why don’t we go on a picnic?” Rarity asked delightfully as she stood up. “It’s such a fine day today.”

“That would be great!” the dragon immediately agreed. “Twilight won’t be coming though. She said she won’t take a break until she figures out this thing about this Draconian Empire.”

“Actually, Spike, I meant that for the two of us.”

What? Just the two of us?

“I did intend to invite everypony to come, but it seems that none of them are available today,” she quickly added.

A picnic with Rarity? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! This day might have started rather gloomy, but it’s turning out to be perfect! This is the best day ev—wait, no… Now is not the time!

The dragon’s euphoria was interrupted by a rumbling sensation in his stomach. Seconds later he belched out loudly a jet of emerald flame, and not one, but two letters materialized out of thin air.

“Sorry,” Spike apologized promptly as he snatched the parchments. “I’d love to go, Rarity. I’ll be back as soon as I deliver these letters to Twilight! It might take a while since she’s in the old castle—you know, studying.”

“Take your time, Spike. In the meantime, I’ll prepare some appetizing sandwiches!”

Er… why now, Princess Celestia? the dragon complained internally as he scurried to the front door of the boutique. Still, he was overjoyed to being going on a picnic with the mare of his dreams. It wasn’t the first time, but the mere thought of it still made him melt a little. Before he closed the door, he turned his head around to see the mare blinking her brilliant blue eyes and giving him a warm smile.

The interior of the boutique fell silent in an instant. Rarity stood at the doorway of her inspiration room for a moment; she stared idly at nothing in particular. Inside her mind, the seamstress felt that there was a chaotic storm of memories and thoughts raging on as they consolidated to form a concrete framework one moment, only to be smash into smithereens the next.

Oh, Spike… If only you knew how I really felt… But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I can’t let you do such a thing, Spike. You’ve already given me so much…

Rarity then let out her most melodramatic and drawn-out sigh.

Oh, buck up, Rarity. You’ve done all you could! It’s time to lay all this trepidation to rest and enjoy the remainder of this beautiful day!

She lifted her head and started walking towards the kitchen, all the while humming a graceful tune.

“Aah!” Twilight gasped as she jolted up from the floor of her makeshift study room, hovering uneasily in midair. The alicorn was so immersed in her research that Spike’s sudden entrance took her by utter surprise.

“Sorry, Twilight.” The dragon, having run from the Carousel Boutique all the way to the old castle, was puffing and sweating heavily. He glanced around, and as expected, the room was a mess, with books, scrolls and pieces of paper scattered all over the place.

Twilight landed and retracted her wings. “Well,” she said, noting Spike’s gleeful look under his heavy panting, “looks like somepony had quite a good time at Rarity’s!”

“You bet I did,” Spike exclaimed as he wiped sweat off his forehead. “We talked about… uh… things, and now I feel much better!”

“Well that’s rather unexpected. Rarity’s not really the first pony that I would resort to when it comes to these kinds of situations.”

“I know. I didn’t expect her to even get me. No offense, Twilight. Hehe…” Spike said as he drew closer; he tried not to upset the pony who had been consoling him whenever he felt lost during the past few weeks, albeit not so effectively.

“That’s okay, Spike. It’s great that you’re talking with other ponies about this. Maybe you’ll find an answer to your questions,” Twilight said.

“You know what, Twilight? I actually want to do something.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Oh, and what’s that?”

“I’m thinking about going on an adventure or just a vacation some time, and I want everypony to come; maybe for a week or two. We could go anywhere. Ponyville’s quite nice, but I kind of want to see what the rest of Equestria is like. Maybe I will find what I’m looking for out there,” Spike suggested enthusiastically.

Twilight smiled. “That sounds like a great idea, although I will have to finish my studies first. By the way, Spike, I’m not planning on taking a break until I have this thing figured out, so maybe you would want to go—”

“That’s okay,” Spike interjected. “I’m going on a picnic with Rarity!” he exclaimed proudly, as if it were the best thing in the world.

“Sounds like a romantic lunch date to me,” Twilight remarked slyly. “You didn’t need to rush all the way back here to tell me that though.”

“As if!” Spike dismissed. “I just came to bring these letters to you,” he said, almost forgetting why he was here in the first place.

The alicorn finally took notice of the two scrolls Spike was holding. She pointed to a pile of randomly stacked books. “Just put them… er… over there. I’ll read them later, once I get hold of these.”

With that, Twilight resumed burying her face in the maps she was examining moments ago. “I still can’t pinpoint the exact coordinates of the Draconian Empire… Hmm…” the studious alicorn mumbled to nopony in particular. It was only seconds later that Spike’s words truly registered with her; she abruptly cocked her head in his direction. “Wait, did you say… letters?”

“Yup. Why do you ask?”

Before Spike could put them down, Twilight swiftly levitated the parchments out of his grasp. “Gee, it’s about time!” she scoffed as she hastily tore the ribbon off one of the scrolls.

“Uh…” Spike looked confused. “Why are you angry about receiving letters from Princess Celestia?”

“Because I’ve literally lost touch with her over the past month!” the alicorn yelled angrily as she dropped the parchment on the table. “She didn’t even respond to the letters I sent her!”

“I’m sure she’s just a little busy,” Spike replied calmly. “She’s been absent from Canterlot for a while.”

“You don’t understand, Spike. Celestia and I have always kept in touch, but it’s like we’ve drifted apart recently! I even have a feeling that she’s hiding something from me…” Twilight’s paranoia was showing. Not that it was completely unexpected, though.

“Are you kidding?” Spike replied in disbelief. “Why would Celestia hide anything from you? You’re one of her most trusted friends!” he reassured the princess of friendship.

“I don’t know, Spike. Whenever I ask her what she’s been up to lately, she always gives me an evasive answer; not to mention I wasn’t even invited to attend any of the recent royal conferences!” Twilight frustratingly complained.

“Nah, I’m sure you’re just thinking too much,” the dragon said nonchalantly as he turned away. “Anyway, I better get going. Sure don’t want to be late for my date—I mean picnic with Rarity.”

Earlier Spike had been wondering what he should bring to the picnic. It was by sheer luck that on his way to the castle, he bumped into Fluttershy, who was kind enough to help him make some fresh lemonade. The timid pegasus apologized profusely for not being able to join them, although even she couldn’t help teasing him a little about his “date.”

Meanwhile, Twilight slowly breathed in and then out. She unfurled the first scroll. “Dear Princess Celestia,” she read to herself. Wait, what? The alicorn quickly browsed through the rest of the parchment.

“Hmm… What’s this doing here?” she muttered to herself before shoving it aside.

Twilight then moved on to the second one. Upon laying her eyes on Princess Celestia’s graceful hoofwriting, her previous look of confusion slowly gave way to an unsettled frown; her pupils gradually dilated, while her eyes moved back and forth over the paper, making sure that she had read everything correctly.

“S-Spike?” she called out.

“Uh, yeah?” he replied, poking his head in from the doorway.

“I think your picnic with Rarity will have to wait…”

Spike almost tripped as he took a step forward. “What?” he uttered incredulously

The alicorn beckoned him over to the table. “We’ve got a problem,” she said ominously, pointing at the parchment.

My dearest Twilight,

First and foremost, my sincerest apologies for not writing to you over the past month. Certain issues have kept Princess Luna and I intensely occupied, and you must understand that this information was withheld from you with the best intentions. I request that you pass it on to your friends, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Spike, but make sure that none of you tell anypony else. This is a matter of utmost secrecy.

An ancient adversary has returned. Our knowledge is rather limited as of now, but we do know that once he grows powerful enough to wield his destructive powers, the future of all ponykind will be at stake. I do not take the welfare of my fellow ponies lightly, and it’s not in my nature to put their lives at risk. That being said, this is an urgent plea for help, Twilight. It truly pains me to say this, but you and your friends are our only hope. Only you can stop the impending disaster.

I have returned to Canterlot, so please gather your friends and meet with me there tomorrow morning at nine. I will explain everything then. I’m sorry for the short notice, and I hope that you understand the direness of the situation.

Thank you for your time, my dear friend.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

The dragon and alicorn exchanged troubled glances. “Okay… I stand corrected…” Spike said. “Plus that’s kind of scary.”

Twilight frowned again. “I know. It sounds like something terrible is about to happen.” Seconds later she was on her hooves and pacing anxiously in the room. “Spike, we have to go get the others,” she demanded. “We need to hold an emergency meeting now.”

“Okay…” Spike reluctantly agreed, not bothering to hide his disappointment. There goes my perfect day, although the fate of Equestria does come before a little picnic.

As the two friends left the room, Spike happened to notice the other letter lying on the table. Curious, he paused for a split second to glance at the much shorter message:

Dear Princess Celestia,

Seeing the Great Dragon Migration made me wonder what it meant to be a dragon, but now I realize that who I am is not the same as what I am. I may have been born a dragon, but Equestria and my pony friends had taught me how to be kind, loyal, and true. I'm proud to call Ponyville my home, and to have my pony friends as my family.

Yours truly,

Spike