The Wrong Knight

Canterlot Castle,

Several years before the 1,000th Summer Sun Celebration...

“Look! Look, Twilight, this is the best page!” Spike said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of his best friend. “This is where Sing Free jumps out from behind the corner and skewers the dragon through his chest. Look at the picture!”

The pony before him extracted her nose from the pages of Thaumatic Wave Theory, Volume III. She found it buried in another book. The six-year-old dragon was holding the book in his claws and thrusting it toward her face so that there was no chance whatsoever of her failing to witness the conclusive battle he was trying to show her.

“Yeah, that's great, Spike,” she said from behind the book. “Brave knight saves her prince from a ferocious dragon. Nice artwork, and I'm glad there's no blood. Do you mind letting me study?”

“Sure, Twi.” Spike twisted his book back around so he could drink in the illustration himself. His eyes danced over the artist's awesome scenery and the fierce reptilian glare on the villain's face, but they were drawn primarily exclusively over the armored knight and her strong, heroic posture.

“Do you think you'll ever meet a knight, Twilight?”

“Doubt it. I don't see any reason to gallop off to Prance or Bitain to find one.”

“I'll bet the Princess has met some. Probably hundreds!”

“I guarantee she has. She didn't exactly rule Equestria or set up its treaties and trade agreements from under a rock.”

“She's probably met dozens! Have I told you that they get their titles from the kings themselves? Or that they have to train until they know how to fight monsters who're ten times their own size?”

“More like hundreds. And yes, I got wind of your fascination. You grab every fictional book of that kind that you can get your little claws on. Have you even read most of them?”

“Not yet.”

“Either way, I've done some research on the Orders, so I probably know a bit more than you do right now.”

Spike's head snapped up eagerly. “Oh, yeah? What's like being one?”

“Now that I can't really say, Spike,” she replied with a gentle roll of her eyes. “The practice only exists in a few neighboring countries. Knights take up quests in pursuit of a particular accomplishment, or a less corporeal ideal, so I know it's tough and there's a lot of traveling involved. As for the experience in and of itself, I am at a loss.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I'd like to be a lot like Sing Free,” he said as he waddled about the library. “She's gallant, she's chivalrous, she always steps up when someone needs help... I know she's just a character, but I could probably be like her when I grow up, and go on some of the same quests and missions she does.”

“Well, don't get your hopes up, Spike. You're a dragon. Don't you think you'd be more likely to play the role of a dragon?”

The words, leaving Twilight's tongue with a bad aftertaste that she failed to pick up on immediately, quieted Spike's enthusiasm. Silence temporarily reigned in the suite but for the outdoors' gusting, chirping, and murmuring coming in through their window. Twilight was likewise slow to realize how quiet her dragon had become.

As the words of his disturbingly young caretaker sank in, Spike's eyes roamed now from the knight in shining armor up to the angry dragon she was slaying. He observed its menacing face, its threatening features, its poise as it was stabbed by the hero. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be that nasty and vicious, to be so mean that someone would have to come galloping to his castle and dispatch him.

At last feeling the dim mood that had settled about them, Twilight looked up at her assistant to see him staring at the pages of his storybook with a great deal more sobriety than he'd possessed before she'd spoken. She felt the lightest of guilty pinpricks.

“So...you're saying I'm more like...the monster?”

“What? No, no,” The unicorn shook her head and backpedaled. “You see...dragons always play the villains in this genre because the dragon stereotype fits the role perfectly, and they provide a stronger element of danger for the hero to face. It has nothing to do with you, really.”

“Uh...you can't type on stereos, Twilight. And what's that got to do with—”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “What I mean is, dragons are known for being powerful and greedy so they make substantial villains. You'd be much more intimidated by a big scary dragon than an evil unicorn sorcerer, right? It's not because they're inherently vicious. Because they aren't.” She poked him teasingly in the stomach. “You're living, fire-breathing proof of that.”

Spike rubbed his tummy where she'd poked him. “Yeah, I guess. So then, that means I'm more like the knight! I'd be the one to race up to the castle and rescue my prince...er, princess...from a big dragon! Or from a pony who's just as mean.”

Twilight hesitated for a beat before she replied, “Right, I'm sure you would,” and returned to her book.

Spike studied her. He was glad for her agreement, but he hadn't heard as much conviction in her voice as he did when she congratulated him for a fine job on his chores, or told him he was coming with to visit her family.

“I really could, though,” he said imploringly. “I could really be heroic if I were big enough!”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that. It's being a knight that you might find a little difficult.”

His shoulders slumped. “Why's that?”

The textbook fell back on its spine once again. “Because we're discussing knighthood here, Spike. That's an Order that dragons don't really belong in.” She saw the confusion in her assistant's eyes and proceeded quickly, “Look here: 'knight' is an honorary title that is bestowed upon ponies for services to their country. The thing is, the candidates have to fall within the standards of what knights are expected to be, and one of those expectations is that they come from the race that developed the Order in the first place.” Gently, she continued, “I'm sure you could achieve the same things if you tried really, really hard, but actual knighthood is still one of those things that's...well, it's sort of a 'just for ponies' thing, you know? A single dragon wouldn't really fit in with an Order full of ponies.” Unable to calculate how much of a blow—if any—her next words would have, she delivered them flippantly and with a dismissive laugh. “I don't think they would even let a dragon take the chivalric code and set out on a quest. You'd be kicked out and would land on your butt!”

“Uh...they wouldn't actually do that, would they?” Spike asked.

“Of course not, silly. But I don't necessarily think the king of one of those countries would be so ready to let a dragon take the oath.”

“They would after I talked to them and told them what a great knight I would be! I'd just be the first dragon to do it, that's all.”

The young student trotted up to place a soft hoof on his shoulder. “It's still a very difficult thing to do, Spike. And you wouldn't just be faced with the normal challenges that knights are. There are many things the pony candidates are required to do that a dragon probably couldn't, and there would also be a lot of ponies there who wouldn't be very nice to you.”

“So what? I don't care about them!” he huffed. “I wouldn't be around them much anyway. I'd be out, going on quests and adventures, right?”

“Well, those quests are also much, much more dangerous than your books make them look. And not just because of animals, but poisonous insects and reptiles, swamps to get mired in, harsh weather, treacherous terrain... Wouldn't you rather stay home where we'd be protected by the Order or the Royal Guard, instead of running off just because you have something to prove?” She tugged him up against her chest.

“It's...it's not that I wanna prove anything, Twi,” he said hesitantly. “It's just something that I think I could do.”

Twilight gave him a few inches of space. “Well, I would rather you stay safe. Ponies sometimes die on their quests because there are so many unforeseen risks. I'd hate to lose my Number One Assistant for any reason at all.” She punctuated her words by bopping his snout.

The number one assistant in question glanced back down at the storybook held loosely in his small claws. “I guess so...”

Twilight Sparkle concluded the discussion with a light smack on the scales of his forehead. “Muah! Come on, grab some writing utensils for my saddlebags. There are some books I need in the Royal Archives, so we get to go look for titles down there today! Sound like fun?”

Trotting away, she turned back to see if he was listening. She must have seen the thoughtful look on her assistant's face, the uncertainty with which he now looked down at his storybook. She must have seen the curiosity brewing behind his eyes and mistaken it for some form of disappointment.

“Tell you what, Spike. If being a brave, strong knight in shining armor is really important to you, we can make some armor out of cardboard and tin foil. It could be a pretty fun arts and crafts project! I'll bet I can even use styrofoam to cut a sword and shield for you.”

Spike looked up at her hopeful eyes and encouraging smile. Was she offering...a game? He was talking about life-or-death scenarios and real accomplishments, but she was talking about something trivial. He didn't relish the thought of putting on a silly costume and saying, “Halt, who goes there?” to every adult who approached their dorm, just so they could laugh at him and play along.

“Nah. That doesn't sound too great, Twi.”

Twilight frowned, and her ears drooped a hair. Spike realized she was probably under the impression that she'd ruined something potentially fun for him, cut off an avenue of interest. It wasn't like any dreams had been crushed, though; Spike still hadn't closed the book.

“Well, alright then,” Twilight said. “I'll just, um...get some books that are due back in the Archives.”

Green eyes followed the young pony up into their loft where she would retrieve the reading materials, then fell back to the illustration of a struggle between good and evil. There were many other pictures in the book, but this was the only one that had mattered for some time. Well, that armor definitely wouldn't fit me, he thought as he appraised the story's hero in a new light. He looked again at the villain. But I'd never be that mean, either.

There was something to understand here... Big or small, urgent or meaningless, there was something the young dragon just knew could be extrapolated from this. He simply couldn't figure out what.

The clip-clop of hooves drew his attention back up to the loft where Twilight was galloping from one spot to another, collecting her books.

There was no denying that she was the most important person in his life. But she wasn't like him. She didn't have thick scales, claws, or fire like a dragon. She didn't have armor, a sword, or years of adventuring in her background like the ponies he enjoyed reading about. No, the pony whom he took as his mother, his sister, his best friend, and his idol was just that...a pony. She had flat hooves, soft fur, and dull teeth.

She is pretty amazing at magic, though, he amended. If worst came to worst, she could do something spectacular that would handle any tough situation that came up, even a menacing dragon. She was always able to show him something astounding after only a few days of study and practice.

But then, what about the ponies who didn't have her talent? What would they do if Twilight, the Princess, or the Royal Guard weren't around, and he was? Could they defend themselves from a dragon?

Probably not, he decided. They would need something just as powerful as a dragon to keep them from harm. Maybe even another dragon... He was back to studying the book. But could I be that dragon? I'd have to either be a dragon, or a knight. Twilight thinks those are two different things, though.

It was then that he began to grasp the first inkling of understanding of what he'd been looking for in that picture moments ago. His reptilian eyes jumped between the knight and the dragon, from one to the other several times, forming an image that likely no other being in Equestria had lent serious thought to. There was room for something to exist there...room for him to put something. Something as strong and ferocious as the beast, something as brave and true as the warrior. Something only he could make.

His scaly brow furrowed. “I dunno...” he muttered quietly to himself. “Maybe...maybe not.”

Twilight returned to the ground floor. “Spike, let's get doing. Did you get those quills yet?”

“Yeah... No, sorry. I'm getting them right now, hang on.”

He eased the cover shut and waddled over to the small corner in their personal library where his children's books were shelved. A light wind swished into their suite through the open window, ruffling loose scrolls and brushing its cool breath over his scales as he slid the storybook back into place and made it even with the spines of other books.

He stepped back and glanced over the shelf before he turned to leave. The book's spine was unidentifiable from that of its neighbors. He grabbed a set of quills and an inkpot, followed his friend out the door, and shut it behind him. It would be a long time before picked the book up again.