One of the most unpredictable things in life is the chance of meeting someone for the first time. The amount of luck and coincidence that must perfectly align in order for two independent paths to cross is simply unfathomable. The odds should make it hopeless. They account for the impossible miracle of life, doubled and summed with the odds of every event that characterizes those two lives up to that point. In a way, every first introduction is just the product of the two stories that allowed it. This must mean that when two paths cross, it has to be important to both stories. Whether it is to create love’s first inception, incite a ruthless argument or to teach a young child a valuable lesson, there always has to be a reason for a meeting. If two things met for no reason, would it not just be a waste of time?
Decades before Equestria’s familiar age of unity, deep inside a mountain in the middle of the ever-storming Frozen North, these thoughts were entertaining the mind of an extraordinary creature. This creature was of a race that was legendary among many storytellers; an enormous, menacing monster to some, and a benevolent guardian to others. This particular being carried the traits of both legends. She wore a natural armor made of thick scales and carried claws and teeth sharper than the most prized possession of any adept blacksmith. On her spiked back were two neatly folded wings. They had not been used in a long stretch of time, but they were still strong enough to carry her into the sky if she so desired. Her most prominent feature, as was the case with many of her kind, was her eyes. They did not have irises, sclera or pupils, but instead had a solid and striking glow that resembled two flawless, identical sapphires. They shone with a deep blue tint that would cause the most experienced appraisers to stutter in awe. They matched the rest of her body, which was a mix of silver and deep blue scales. To the uneducated she was nothing more than a foul beast, but to wiser eyes she was a dragon, whose presence created a serene atmosphere of peace to those around her.
This calm aura was not a sole result of her appearance, but also a tangible reaction from the environment around her. Her home inside the cold mountain cave was a labyrinth of long tunnels and vast rooms that were decorated with natural crystals. Some of them were larger than a horse; some were as small as a bird, but all of them shone together using her as their source. Her connection to them caused their light to change intensity based on her mood. As she woke up, for example, the crystals woke up with her.
On top of her outsourced luminescence, her presence also took physical shape in the form of snow. The moisture from the cavern walls and ceilings seeped out of the rock towards her and became large clumps of pure white flurries as it reached the air. Much like the crystals, the snow was present in every room and tunnel that made up the cave’s system. During her decades-long slumber, she had created a mound of the impossible snow around her entire body which concealed her from the other critters that inhabited the mountain. It was not meant to protect her, but merely act as a comfortable blanket. The indoor snowstorm was also a reflection of her spirit, and could become a hostile storm just as quickly as she did.
Her mind was on the topic of the odds of a meeting because she was starting to come to terms with a ridiculous situation, and her disbelief over its luck was growing. She was a hermit, holed up far away from her worldly ties to live alone in unconscious peace. She selected her home deep within the base of a mountain in the middle of the Frozen North precisely to avoid being disturbed. But yet, here she was, awake on the cold cavern floor, listening carefully to something that had just roused her and refusing to open her eyes. The noise had not come to meet her yet, but she had the ability to sense anyone who might stray close to her tunnels. It was a secondary pair of ears to her, as well as her home.
There were grunts, cries and angry yelling coming from the entrance to the mountain far above her room. They were accompanied by an erratic symphony of clashes between steel, rock and magic. There was some form of duel being fought at the bottom of a ravine, in the middle of the Frozen North, during an intense blizzard, just outside the dragon’s den. The coming together of these random events was truly astounding to her. If all of this was happening together, surely the odds had run out, and the battling voices would resolve their fight elsewhere, away from her. That is, unless there was a reason for her to meet them.
She opened her eyes and sighed as she felt a sinking feeling inside her heart. She was not going to meet the both of them. Steel had just hit something much softer than rock or fellow steel, and the two lights that danced around each other in her senses had just become one in the most tragic of ways. She did not know the species of the duelists or the reason for their duel, but she did know that it had reached its conclusion. She hoped that was all it would ever be in her memory: a half-remembered story of two warring spirits somewhere far away from her, but she was starting to wonder if the odds were in favour of it being so simple. She shut her eyes again and focused, trying to sense where the victor’s light would travel next. As much as it pained her to think, she knew that the only logical destination for a weakened fighter alone in the middle of a snowstorm was the closest shelter – her cave. Sure enough, the presence came closer, but it was at least still a mile above her. The last line of defense that she had now was the cave itself. It was not particularly dangerous, but it was an enormous enigma that reduced the odds of the dragon being discovered down to zero, she thought foolishly. For just as she could sense life outside, her presence could also be seen in the form of glowing crystals and unexplainable precipitation.
Much to her dismay, the light continued its journey downwards. She intently felt every step it took and resolved new information about it as it approached. It was certainly much smaller than her and walked on four hooves. It was hobbling and tripping from an injury, briefly taking pauses to cough and curse at its situation. She knew creatures of its shape, dreadful beings with which she desired no association. Halfway through its descent however, the dragon accepted that she wasn’t getting out of the encounter. The presence was now affirming itself as an intruder that was searching for her, and it would soon reach its goal.
She knew what would happen when it arrived. It would flee immediately after seeing her, running at full speed back home to tell its peers, and she would have to abandon her home forever. It was a two-step process that she had performed many times before. First, she would scare away the intruder under the guise that she was protecting her home, and then she would leave to find a new one. She began her preparations by dimming the lights of the crystals in her hollow and increasing the speed of her storm. As she silently steeled herself for her task, the injured animal made its first steps into her large and stormy room.
She gave the intruder just a few more minutes to change its mind. She allowed just one last look at the impossible snowstorm in her glittering cave before it either turned around to leave or was expelled. The uneven steps halted in the middle of the room, leaving only the sounds of labored breathing and intermittent throat-clearing to momentarily puncture the silence. She heard it fidget in place and mutter at the sight it beheld. It was undoubtedly scanning the room for an answer to the environment.
The beast within could wait no more. Without notice, she rose from her snowy veil and began her intimidating performance. Her massive white cloak fell off of her scaly exterior in a loud rush. She spread her wings high above her body and prepared a chilling spell of frigid air, while a bellowing roar formed in her chest. When she was ready to perform, she opened her eyes to see exactly whom it was that had wandered into her domain.
It was a female pegasus pony dressed up in an exotic outfit, as well as an array of fresh scrapes and bruises. She may have won her fight, but she had not come out of it in a good way. There was a small cut across her right cheek as well another on her front right shoulder. She had an amethyst-coloured coat that hid the colours of her fresh bruises well, but not completely. The worst injury was to her right foreleg, which had a limp form that gave its broken integrity away. She wore leather armor that was decorated with a green cloth beneath small sheets of linked metal. The armor, though it had clearly been crafted with utmost care, was also covered in scratches as well as a few sprawling stains of blood that belonged to her unfortunate opponent. Her mane and tail were a deep shade of red, the former of which was braided and kept close to her neck. The latter was like a long and worn out paintbrush attached to her backside. Strapped to her front left shoulder was an empty leather scabbard about as long as her leg. Her feathered wings looked unscathed, and they were spread out wide in a gesture that denoted excitement. Her mouth was wide open, and her eyes were even wider, locked onto the dragon’s stunning appearance.
The fierce roar caught in the dragon’s throat at the sight of the wobbling mess of a pony, and it scurried back down from whence it came. The spell, meanwhile, could not be recalled. The blast of frigid air charged from the beast’s body and rushed past the pony, causing her to cringe and turn away from the burning cold. However, she recovered quickly from the spell and reverted back to her still and aghast state, her demeanor unchanged by the buffeting of cold wind that she had just received. She stared into the beast’s sapphire eyes with an expression that denoted wonder as opposed to fear. Her mouth moved slightly, attaching a word to her awe.
“Woah…” was the only thing she said.
The winds in the cave vanished. The newly exposed dragon lowered her wings and sat down, returning the pony’s wondered expression with a stoic, heartless stare. Her opening act may have failed, but she still continued her efforts to frighten the wanderer. She waited for the pegasus to suddenly pivot and dash out of the caves back to her fellow ponies. She would tell tall tales of what she saw to hundreds, and likely be hailed as a hero for her bravery in the face of a monster. That’s what they all did, she thought, as she continued to wait. After a lengthy stare with no luck, she decided to try to communicate with the intruder in the form of a question that was troubling her. She spoke with a monotone voice due to her lack of practice during the long decades of slumber.
“How are you still standing?”
*crunch*
The pony’s rump immediately hit the snow under her hooves, as if she was given a command from a superior officer. The dragon’s eyes narrowed. Their sapphire glow pierced into the intruder with the most sincere impatience.
“I only mean that you appear encumbered.”
She spoke more gently this time, not wanting to be mistaken as a commander again. Her words echoed off of the cavern walls in a deep, mellifluous sound. It was no secret why she would use a fierce roar to frighten away intruders, as opposed to mere words. Without the traditional dragon vigor to back them up, they sounded more like a welcoming hymn than a deterrent. The pony remained sitting still, but shifted her eyes back and forth, seemingly mulling over how to respond. She eventually answered:
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Injured… You are hurt.”
“Oh!” she laughed and lazily surveyed her tattered armor and bruised body. “Yeah, well… you should see the other guy.”
The few words that were spoken were already more than enough to bear. Speaking with ponies was an exhausting affair, in her opinion. She began to lie back down to ignore the tiny creature as the calm, snowy atmosphere of the cave re-appeared. Just as she moved however, the pony tried to continue their conversation. The dragon sat back up tall and returned her impatient gaze to the intruder.
“My name’s Minnie!” The pony announced with joy. Her voice was at least two octaves higher than the dragon’s, which reflected their size difference rather well.
“Leave now, little one. You are far from home and even further from being welcome.” The dragon demanded.
She continued glaring at the pony, waiting for her to receive the message and leave, but also unwillingly registering the pony’s name in her memory. What kind of a pony is called Minnie? She knew it had to be short for something. Minced Garlic? Mineral Water? She knew it had to be something ridiculous. She cast the pointless thoughts out of her mind and refocused on the situation. She had to get ‘Minnie’ to leave as soon as possible, for she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with one of these four-legged menaces for too long.
“Why are you still here? Did you not hear me?” She inquired.
“I’m sorry, it’s just...” Minnie took a moment to turn and cough weakly. “It’s just that I think dragons are really, really cool! My whole family does… and I just never thought I’d see one!”
“I’m flattered,” the dragon replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
This brought out a giggle from the strange pony. Her surprise from the dragon’s appearance had completely vanished now, and she now spoke in jovial cheers as if she were catching up with an old friend. “Y’know? I’ve heard that a dragon’s tongue can be laced with stuff like fire… ice… magic, all sorts of things! But I guess I’ll have to add sarcasm to the list!”
The joke was not well received, but still the pony continued.
“So, hey! What’s your name?”
“Concordia,” The dragon declared. Her name filled the room with a harmonious tone that emulated its meaning. She did not want to speak it and continue the conversation, especially not with a pony, but still gave it out of courtesy.
“Woah… I knew it had to be something cool like that!” Minnie shouted and jumped in the air with glee, which was not a good idea in her condition. She fell harshly and nearly lost her balance on her weakened leg. Concordia winced as she saw it happen, which was the last form of courtesy she wanted to give that night.
“Once you have seen enough, leave this place. I am going back to sleep,” She demanded. She laid down and curled back up into her reclusive ball; the same position she was in before the night’s commotion, and the same position where she felt she thought the most clearly. If it had not been for her frail and injured condition, she would have sent the persistent pony out by force. But she allowed her to have her own decision out of pity. She closed her eyes, content to shut the unarmed pegasus knight out of her mind and reunite herself with her dreams.
Just then, she had a poisonous thought. She pieced together what the pony had told her and came upon a sickening hypothesis. Her eyes snapped open and she forced herself back up from the cave floor to sitting, fixing her precious sapphires back on the intruder. The wide smile and curious eyes were still pointed in her direction.
“Your name… what is your full name, pony.” She demanded with thinly veiled ire.
“My name?” Minnie kept up her cheery attitude, oblivious to Concordia’s foul mood. “I’m Minerva! Minerva the Brave!”
Concordia’s entire body tensed with rage.
*Smash!*
Her claw tore into the cave floor, sending a spray of small rocks towards the pony’s hooves. They did not strike her, but the display was enough to make her take a few hobbled steps back in shock. Concordia stood back up on all fours, spread her wings, flashed her fangs and advanced. The cold, snowy air in the room sped up into a violent gust. The roar that Concordia had quelled earlier returned to her in an awkward rush, climbing out of her throat and attaching itself to her speech.
“Leave this place NOW!” She bellowed.
For the first time since her arrival, Minerva showed fear. She huddled herself together just a few meters from Concordia’s menacing form, her tail now stuck between her hind legs and her wings tucked firmly into her back. She held her uninjured foreleg in front of her face in a feeble attempt to protect herself. Concordia merely kept her teeth bared and stared Minerva down, daring her to move towards her or speak again. This time, for sure, the pony would flee.
But again, Minerva stayed. She trembled and looked at Concordia with horror, but after a few seconds took a deep breath, relaxed and lowered her hoof down again.
“I’m sorry,” she began, “… I should have thought… I mean I didn’t think…” She took a few deep breaths and collected herself. “I know I said my family really likes dragons… but I guess they don’t know much about them…”
“I cannot stand your kind!” Concordia roared defiantly. The second roar came out quieter than the first, but her words still clattered against the cavern walls, attacking Minerva’s ears with their pure and harsh tone.
“Woah, woah, hang on!” Minerva’s fear suddenly vanished, replaced by befuddlement. “Did you say you can’t stand my kind? You mean like Pegasus knights?”
“PONIES!”
The third roar was by far the loudest. It sent a small rumble through the cave system and nearly shook Minerva off of her hooves. She focused on regaining her balance before turning her attention back to the enraged monster in front of her. Minerva appeared too attached to what was said to be afraid of how it was said. In fact, it was the mighty dragon who faltered under her own voice, as she panted heavily, wings still outstretched, and gazed angrily at Minerva. She held the pose for a few seconds before being overcome with shame. She calmed and brought her wings back in, lay down on the floor and mentally cursed herself for losing her temper. Her words had even surprised her, as they brought back a wave of torrid and unpleasant memories of ponies. She had forgotten how much she loathed them. She closed her eyes and promised herself that she would never acknowledge the pony again, but it did not take long for her to betray that promise.
“That’s so weird!” Minerva remarked. “You don’t like ponies? I‘ve never known anypony who doesn’t like ponies!”
“I am no pony!” Concordia shouted even though her jaw was now resting on the rocky floor.
“Aw, don’t say that! Everypony is somepony!” Minerva responded with glee.
Concordia groaned in exasperation and threw her claws over her eyes. She almost beckoned Minerva to leave again, but changed her mind when she realized that it was no use. So she instead reinstated her promise and tried again to ignore her disturbance.
“I just don’t get it!” Minerva continued undeterred. “What could you possibly not like about us? We’re so nice and friendly!”
Concordia may have calmed down from her uproar, but she was still burning on the inside, and Minerva’s constant shouting was not helping. She sat back up to break her promise again.
“You… You casually walk uninvited into my home, wearing the name of one of my specie’s greatest heroines, covered in scars and blood, more than half of which I am certain is not yours, you refuse to leave when I ask politely and impolitely, yet you have the nerve to ask why I despise your kind?”
“Who was she?”
“What?”
“Who was Minerva?”
It was Concordia’s turn to be confused. The young pegasus looked at her with piqued interest, like an open-minded student perched at the front of her class. The adult dragon, many centuries Minerva’s senior, was suddenly being looked at like she was a teacher. She took a moment to remember the stories of dragons long passed, told to her by her family. She remembered the tales of Minerva the Wise that her father regaled her with eons ago. She also remembered the great joy she had in telling others about the inspiring heroine herself.
“She was a scholar… and a pacifist.” She coated the last three words with contempt and waited for the words to sink in before continuing. “She could thwart griffon warlords and repel swarms of changelings using only her wit and her words. She was the wisest my kind has ever known. She saved scores of dragons from war and suffering without ever donning a single plate of armor.”
Minerva shifted awkwardly in her place.
“She sounds… awesome. I don’t think I could ever live up to a name like that,” she said meekly.
“Minerva the Brave, indeed.”
Once again, Concordia’s malicious words had the opposite effect on Minerva. Her smile and giggle returned to the room and she carried on the conversation, despite being the only one present who wanted it to continue.
“Yowch! There’s that sarcasm again,” she laughed, “hey, I’ve got an idea! You said you hate ponies, right?”
Concordia did not respond. Those weren’t her exact words, but they were close to her exact thoughts.
“So… Why is it that me and you can get along so well even though you ‘cannot stand my kind’?” She made hoofquotes in the air with her uninjured hoof and made a rather mocking impression of Concordia.
“We are getting along?” Concordia spoke like she was trying to remove an awful taste from her mouth.
“Of course! We’re getting along so well that I think we should have a little wager! How about it?”
Concordia no longer knew how to reply, so she simply cringed and shook her head disapprovingly.
“I bet you can’t name three things that make you hate us!”
“You are inexorable, intolerable and infuriating.”
“Okay, ten things! And you can’t use those three, because I know you’re just talking about me!” Minerva exclaimed as she gave a wink.
Concordia titled her head back and looked at the ceiling. How did she get into this? Would she ever get out? She thought of ways she could put a stop to the situation permanently. She considered encasing the pony in a block of ice and devouring her later as a unique and exotic frozen treat. Ponies were not in any dragon’s diet, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t open to new things. The idea was facetious, but it still made her smile.
“Looks like somepon- uh… some dragon is starting to like my idea.” Minerva stated with a toothy grin. When Concordia didn’t react, she closed her mouth and waited.
“What happens when I come up with these ten words?” Concordia asked, suddenly vaguely interested.
“That’s if you come up with them, dragon-lady! And, um… what do you mean?”
“Usually there are prizes attached to a wager.”
“Oh, yeah! You’re totally right! Okay, um… What do dragons like again? Shiny things, right? Hmm… I don’t have any gems or gold on me… Oh! Except my-” She turned her head to the empty scabbard on her side and nearly grasped at the air above it with her teeth before realizing her mistake. “Oh, right… I left it outside… Tell you what; my sword has a big, juicy ruby right at the center of its hilt. If you win, then I’ll fetch it and bring it to you.”
“Very well, and if you win?”
“If I win…Will you tell me everything you know about dragons?”
The studious expression re-appeared on Minerva’s face. Concordia was averse to teaching anything about her kind to a pony, but the look she kept receiving whenever Minerva asked her a question was beginning to convince her otherwise. It did not matter, though, as she was certain she would win if she accepted. The words were already taking form in her mind as they spoke.
“That would take months to accomplish, young pony, and if you do not leave here soon you will succumb to the environment.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But I can just come back later when I’m not beat up and then you can teach me everything you know about dragons.”
This suited the nomadic dragon just fine. Whether or not she won, the pony would leave, and she could relocate to another cave elsewhere in the mountains, never to be bothered by Minerva’s incessant shouting again. Despite the first step in her two-step process falling off the rails, it was still in effect. However, Concordia didn’t mind sparing a few minutes to trounce the unwelcome pony in a game of words.
“Very well, I accept. Let’s begin.”
“Not so fast!” Minerva shouted. “First, I wanna know more about you.”
“I thought you had to win for that.” Concordia muttered.
“Not you the dragon, I wanna know more about Concordia!” Minerva beamed, “I wanna know where you got such strong opinions about us, because it looks to me like you’re just some hermit in the ground to me.” She scrunched up her face as she spoke, and gestured to Concordia a little offensively. “As far as I know you’re just some overgrown lizard that’s been stuck down here your whole life!”
“I live here by choice,” Concordia’s displeasure was lining her speech again, but she knew the question was fair. “I used to be a rather active member of dragon society, an ambassador of sorts. I worked to improve relationships between dragons and other races. But eventually, I grew tired of what seemed like an impossible task, and left it behind. I much prefer the solitary life, anyways. It leaves me time to gather and enjoy my own thoughts.”
“That sounds lonely… so what chased you away? Ponies?”
“There are several reasons why I left, not just ponies. My life carried me to the far ends of the world and back, and I had the pleasure of meeting with all sorts of creatures. But the company of others can be overwhelming, and I eventually decided that it didn’t suit me. However, if it is an outsider’s experience in your culture you are looking for, you needn’t look any further than me.”
“How long have you been down here?” Minerva asked, slowly pushing her questions too far.
“About seventy years.”
“Woah… how old are you?”
Concordia glared at Minerva with renewed impatience. It caused her to stutter and respond with another awkward chuckle before moving on.
“On second thought, never mind.”
“Are we ready to begin?”
“Yup!”
“Fair warning, young pegasus. I will not be going easy on you.” Concordia’s mouth stretched into an evil and expectant grin.
“Oh, I’m not too sure about that,” Minerva retorted.
“Oh?” The grin faded.
“Yeah, I can read you like a book, Concordia.” She limped around the dragon’s large form with a surprisingly confident swagger. “You may act like a big bad snow queen, but I read you like a book!”
“Is that so?” The grin returned.
“Yeah, you’re a total softie. Underneath your scales you’re just as kind-hearted as a full-blown pony! I’ll bet you read stories to your kids before bedtime, donate bits to your local animal shelters, dot all your i’s with hearts… all kinds of softie stuff like that!”
Concordia wasn’t appreciating the trash talk. It was prolonging the situation, and she knew Minerva was not speaking from experience. The ignorant pony had no reason to believe she was kind.
“You are awfully competitive,” Concordia observed.
“You bet I am! I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class at Princess Luna’s Knight Academy.”
“Top of your class?”
“Yeah! Well, top half, anyways… Er… Top two-thirds at least,” She murmured as she rubbed the back of her head, “I’m pretty sure there were some ponies who were below me.”
“Hmph.” Concordia exhaled with the smallest of smiles. Minerva shot a look at her and scanned her face for signs of it, but Concordia read her completely. She hid her smile and returned to her serious expression before she accidentally allowed Minerva a small victory.
“Let’s begin, shall we?” Concordia suggested for the third time.
“Wait, wait, wait! First, we need to set some ground rules! So, here’s how it’s gonna work. You come up with one of your bad words to describe ponies, and then I’ll try to defend us! That way we can get both the insider and outsider points of view! It’ll be great! We can figure out why us ponies are so bad, together!”
Concordia once again did not reply. She was starting to worry how shout-happy this game was making her guest. She also wondered at what point she had allowed her intruder to become her guest.
“Oh!” The enthusiastic pegasus continued, “and we should also be writing these down! But… I don’t have any paper with me.”
“Follow me,” Concordia ordered. She rose from her backside and strode over to the closest of the cave’s high walls. Minerva took flight for the first time since she arrived, leaving her injured leg to dangle below her, and followed. When they reached the wall, Concordia drew in a deep breath and held it for a few focused seconds before exhaling gently. A small icy spark of magic escaped from her mouth, stood still for a moment, and then zoomed towards the wall, becoming stuck on arrival. It then began to trace a pattern – a word – into the rock, creating a carving in its wake. Inside the carving was a stream of illuminated ice, not dissimilar to the crystals that lit the room. Minerva watched intently, now hovering at Concordia’ eye level. Once it was finished, the spark jumped from the wall and disappeared.
It was her first word of the game; drawn without Minerva’s permission to start for fear that she would drag out their conversation longer. The word was ‘presumptuous’. Its calligraphy was remarkably sleek, despite the jagged surface on which it was scrawled.
“Minerva, when you first entered my home and discovered me, a dragon, what did you first think?”
“Umm… well I was kind of scared at first, but I got over it once I got to know you.”
“And did you notice my personal belongings?”
“Your…” She looked around the room. “You don’t really have any.”
“And yet, when you were deciding what my prize for winning this game would be, you assumed that I would enjoy ‘something shiny’.”
“You don’t like shiny things?” Minerva asked as she continued to look for any possessions in the room.
“I am aware that a common stereotype for dragons is that we are greedy hoarders of gold and jewellery, so I do not blame you for thinking that when you first saw me. However, it was much deeper into our conversation when you revealed that you still believed it, despite there being no evidence that I would enjoy anything shiny whatsoever. You saw me as a dragon, and you immediately jumped to the most common association, without even pausing to ask me what I might want as a prize.”
Minerva gently lowered herself to the ground, landing quietly and avoiding Concordia’s judging eyes. She kicked a nearby stone before responding.
“I’m sorry… I should have asked… do you want a different prize?”
“No, keeping your sword is enough for me. It may not be much, but it will still be one less sword in the world,” she concluded. In truth, it was not the destination of the game she cared about, but the journey.
“Okay, well… that’s just my mistake. You can’t use that for all ponies.”
“I certainly can. Why did you make your assumption?”
“I… guess it’s all I’ve ever been told about dragons. They’re big, scary, and they like shiny things.”
“Precisely. The only reason you acted presumptuously is because that is all you have ever been taught by your peers. You ponies create myth and legend of races other than your own that perpetuate lies and sometimes slander, because you never bother to ask for the truth. Hence, you are presumptuous.”
“So dragons don’t like shiny things?”
“Not all of us. It is a common vice among my race to be sure, but that is no reason to go about making assumptions, especially in the midst of contradicting evidence.”
It may have been lightly snowing inside the frosty cave den, but Minerva was evidently feeling the heat. She squirmed under Concordia’s gaze, unable to fight her logic. She made it clear that she wanted to move on to the next word as quickly as possible.
“Alright, fine, but that’s the only time you get to use me as an example!” She contended before rudely throwing a hoof toward Concordia’s face, “Okay, gimme your next one. And no cinnamons!”
“Synonyms.”
“Whatever!” Minerva shouted. The air in the room had turned hostile for a few moments, but Minerva once again seemed to shrug it off. Concordia enjoyed her first victory, but had to stop and marvel at Minerva’s unwavering confidence. Even after being used as a verbal punching bag from an eloquent foe, she still looked excited about her situation. Concordia decided that she wanted to break the lionhearted pony, and quickly started thinking of which word to use next. Her only hindrance was that there were so many to choose from. Once she had made her decision, she spoke it aloud instead of etching it onto the wall, giving Minerva a fair chance defend it before it was accepted in writing.
“My next word is fearful,” She revealed.
“Fearful of what?” Minerva asked as she scrunched up her face again.
“Of everything, young pony. Perhaps it is because I am a dragon, but the first reaction that every pony has ever had of me has been fear. They see my large size, my intimidating scales and claws, and they cower behind the closest object they can find. Granted, that is a fair reaction to seeing a dragon for the first time, but with ponies it never goes away. Despite many of my kind being rather agreeable and intelligent, ponies can never see past our size and our shape. The foremost reason that I loathe the company of ponies is not because they are dangerous or unreasonable, but because their fear can never be conquered. Not by themselves and especially not by others.”
“What’s the big deal?” Minerva interrupted, “So we’re scaredy-ponies when it comes to things bigger than us. Lots of animals are! Have you ever seen something as small as us not run away when they see you?” Minerva argued with renewed vigor now, clearly enjoying not being the subject of the argument anymore. However, Concordia remained a much stronger foe.
“When you wandered the caves on your way to me, how many animals did you see?” She asked.
Minerva looked down at the ground again. Concordia held back a triumphant smile and saved it for later.
“I saw a few,” she muttered.
“Bats, owls, goats, and even a few leopards and bears make their residence here. They do it to keep them safe from the harsh winter that the mountains provide. They do it, knowing full well, that I am housed in here with them.”
“They’re not afraid of you?” Minerva asked incredulously.
“At first, yes. However, they all came to accept my presence and carry on with their lives, no matter how much I may stir and rock in my sleep. Ponies, on the other claw, would never live in the same shelter as a dragon, Ursa, sphinx, or any other particularly peaceful yet large animals that I have ever known. ‘That’s absurd!’ They would say. ‘What if they suddenly turn on us?’ They would argue, as if ponies are a race with surpassingly special needs to be protected from all others. Of all of the fake personas that ponies invent for themselves, the frightened rabbit routine irks me more than any other.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have you know that I’m not afraid of you,” Minerva asserted.
“Self-righteous.” Concordia revealed her reserved smile to the pony falling into her trap. As she spoke the third trait, the icy butterfly reappeared from precisely where it had vanished, darted back to the wall and wrote her second word in the stone before dissolving again.
“Ha-ha! Alright, I deserved that one.”
Concordia’s smile was quelled once again. She was still shocked at Minerva’s unending stream of confidence, but she did not slow down her assault.
“Despite their small size, ponies have created a most peculiar complex amongst themselves. They somehow believe that they are a particularly gifted species, one with ability and mental capacity far above that of any other. In my past life as an ambassador, there were several instances where I was asked to help different races with their problems. Sometimes it was a natural disaster. Other times just a dispute between two cities of belligerent horses, but I always only came when I was asked. And whenever I was assisting those in need, ponies were always there. They stuck their noses in situations that did not involve them in the slightest. They claimed they were trying to help, but I often just found them to be meddling; driven by a corrupt mix of both superiority and responsibility. They were not in it to help, but rather to assert themselves in the world. Why does this happen? You are not the only beings who can speak, fly or wield magic and yet you often speak with an air of authority to any other species, as if you were selected by a divine power to guide them.”
“Yeah… we do kind of meddle a lot… I’m a field knight, so that’s kind of my job.” Minerva was starting to show signs of weakness, though Concordia deduced that it was not from her poor start to the competition, but that she was exhausted from her journey. Concordia had to remind herself of the conditions that Minerva was putting herself through just to learn a little more about the world around her. She commended her spirit, and wanted to know more about the circumstances behind her visit. She prepared her fourth word accordingly.
“If there are no objections, Minerva…?”
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”
The spark re-appeared, and went to its task. Three words now sat proudly in the wall, surrounded by an enormous amount of rocky space for the list to grow.
“Then my next word… is violent.”
“Violent?! What!” She stood up and faced the dragon as though on a second wind. “The other ones I can get, but violent? When are we ever…” Her eyes wandered down to her clothing, a tattered mess of armor and cloth, stained with blood. They reflected the crystals’ light with an unattractive mix of green, brown and red. “Oh… okay, hang on a sec, we have to pause.”
“Yes?” Concordia said curiously, becoming interested in how easy it was to manipulate the pony using the game.
“I just feel like… I should defend myself a little bit here.”
“I was actually growing curious about something. Tell me little one, how did you end up at the bottom of a mountain in the middle of the Frozen North?”
“Okay, well…” She sighed loudly before continuing. “It started out as a field trip of sorts. Me, my friend Foghorn, and a bunch of new earth pony recruits from the academy. First years, y’know? Six of ‘em. Not meant for any actual danger. All we were doing was visiting some northern cities, exploring a bit, talking with some ponies from out of town, just to get the kids used to travelling long ways as a team. But then, I uh…”
“Go on.”
“I made a mistake. I caught word that there were some bandits rolling in from the mountain pass tonight, shipping some stuff for some nopony leader of theirs. So, I set up an ambush to arrest them. I figured the newbies could use a little bit of experience, y’know? The trip had been pretty boring so far. A lot of the ponies we were supposed to talk to had to cancel, I guess because our time wasn’t important to them. I had it all thought out, too. Some wimpy brigands without their head honcho to guide them, transporting stolen supplies out of their hideout in the mountains. Foghorn took some convincing, but he came around when I told him that it would be easy. All we had to do was state who we were and the bandits would give themselves up nice and quick. But when it all started, we quickly found out that their dirtbag leader himself was with them. We were all thrown off guard. The lackeys surrendered easily like we planned, but this guy – a unicorn – warped one of the recruits to his side, pointed a knife to his neck and ran away into the mountains. Told us not to follow or else the ‘kid with the throat gets it’. Real piece of work this guy.”
“But you followed him anyways.”
“Of course I did! Are you crazy? The only reason this all happened was because I felt like trying to be a cool teacher or something.” She thrust her weakened foreleg into the snowy rock without thinking and cringed. “Turnpike didn’t deserve all of that… he’s just a kind, tryhard little guy, could never hurt a fly, as they say. So… I told Foghorn to leave with the others and I would go rescue him. He wouldn’t listen of course, and we couldn’t leave the others unsupervised, so we brought them with us. I was serious now; I wouldn’t let anything happen to them, or to Turnpike. It was pretty easy to catch the guy, too. The idiot got lost in the snowstorm and ended up nowhere near his hideout. Once we caught up to him, Foghorn and I easily got Turnpike back while his guard was down and confronted the slimeball ourselves. Told him he was under arrest, time to turn in the knife and get busy learning how to decorate a cell in Canterlot, but he wasn’t having any of it. He tackled me and sent us both tumbling off a cliff. Once I flew to the bottom and he floated himself down, it was just the two of us. I was separated from Foghorn, who had to stay with the recruits, and I was left to deal with the loser myself…” Minerva’s story had an increasingly melancholic tone about it as she told it. Concordia took pity and stopped her.
“You don’t have to say anymore. I know the rest,” Concordia expressed warmly, glad that her guest was not a thief or a barbarian like she first suspected.
“You do?” Minerva questioned, contorting her face in confusion.
“Yes. I can sense what goes on in and around the entire mountain. I heard your struggle, as well as how it was resolved.”
“I didn’t want it to end like that, but… he made it personal… It’s his own damn fault.”
“Don’t worry, little one. I am on your side. Taking a hostage is the most cruel and cowardly way of winning a battle. I would have done the same in your situation.”
“Yeah? Well I bet you wouldn’t have ended up with so many bruises… couldn’t even carry myself back up to where I fell. Not with that huge blizzard going on. And then… your cave got me curious. You probably shouldn’t have so much snow pouring out of it like that, anypony with a brain knows something’s up.”
“Not many wander near it. So is that where you left your sword?”
“Yeah, Foghorn will find it eventually, and then him and the new recruits will come pick me up and take me home. Celestia knows I can’t do it myself,” she grumbled.
For Concordia, this revelation was both a bad omen, and a light at the end of the tunnel. There may have been clear evidence that Minerva would leave soon, but the idea of seven more ponies coming to visit her first was unpleasant. It also introduced a time limit to their game, since it would certainly be over once the friends arrived. She had to finish it quickly.
“I believe I was at violent,” she continued.
“Oh, yeah, go ahead.” Minerva’s smile didn’t re-appear this time. Concordia noticed, but it did not slow her impending words down.
“Ponies have the unfortunate combination of a small size and great strength. You are fearful in many situations where you feel threatened, and when you can’t run away from the situation, you are quick to turn to violence. Whether it is magic or plain physical force, ponies are capable of terrible things.”
“We’re only violent when we have to be,” Minerva retorted quietly.
“And who gets to decide when it’s necessary? You do.”
Minerva stared blankly at the ground with her eyes half closed. Concordia watched her sadly, afraid that she had been unfair. Her argument had not been constructed to add insult to Minerva’s injuries, but she had just accidentally and disdainfully described exactly what the pegasus had just done. She was evidently taking it badly, and Concordia wanted to make it up to her.
“Minerva, look up, let me see you.” She demanded.
Concordia snaked her head towards the sitting pony and scanned her face for injuries. Her bruises were bad, but they were not life threatening. Her leg was only slightly broken, and was not swelling up too much. The only problem Concordia saw was her temperature.
“I do not think your armor is enough to keep you warm down here. Your lips are starting to turn blue.”
“Oh, are they? I didn’t notice.”
“Come closer and rest against me,” Concordia advised with a motherly tone as she shifted her body to make room for Minerva against her belly. Minerva stepped back instead.
“Are you sure? I mean, no offense, but you don’t look like the ‘warm blanket’ type.”
“Trust me,” Concordia asserted.
Minerva did as she was told and crept up to Concordia’s bare underside, tepidly raising her stronger front hoof against her.
“Woah! You are pretty warm! How does that work?”
“My affinity may be the cold, but that does not make me any less alive. I give off body heat like everything else that breathes.”
“Hey, look at this!” Minerva jumped against Concordia and slumped down into a tired heap “I haven’t even won yet, and I’m already learning new things about dragons. How about that?” She sighed contently and rubbed her face against Concordia’s scales.
“Ready for the next word?” Concordia asked as violent was etched into the wall. She eyed it sourly and decided that her next word would be less serious.
“Yeah, you bet!” Minerva exclaimed, rejuvenated from the warmth.
“Obnoxious.”
“How so?”
“In a lot of ways. But most of all… I would say your music.”
“Aw… not a music lover?”
“I come from a family of musicians, I’ll have you know. In fact, dragons have their own library of music that we sing with each other just as ponies do. I used to join with friends and family alike in great anthems of hope and valor. Our songs are written upon epic themes and inspiring characters, you know.” She swelled with pride as she spoke of her race, even briefly feeling like she missed the culture. “The music of ponies, however, is an obnoxious mess of cheer and optimism. You sing about your favourite foods, you sing about particularly colourful plants, and sometimes you even sing about singing. Have you ever compared your music to that of another race’s? Comparatively, your songs are utterly vapid.”
“Maybe you just take yourselves too seriously,” Minerva proposed with a mischievous smile.
“It is more preferable to the alternative, in my opinion,” Concordia said, returning Minerva’s playful attitude with her own brand.
“Will you sing for me? Pretty please?”
“No, it would take too long. We have a winner to determine, remember?”
In truth, she did not want to sing because her voice had not been used that way in more than a century. The results might have been embarrassing.
“Awwww, you’re a party pooper, ha-ha! But… I think we could argue about our music until morning, so go ahead and write it down,” Minerva conceded.
Minerva’s laugh returned to the echoes in the cave. Concordia was glad that she had cheered up. Seeing Minerva speak of her journey with such sadness made her want to start her rant over. What was the point in watching her spirit break if she was not the one to do it?
“It looks like I am halfway there.”
“Yeah. Hey, Concordia? You’ve been around a long time, right? Have you ever met Princess Celestia?”
“Why do you ask?” Concordia inquired carefully, trying not to reveal her excitement at Minerva straying towards another trap.
“Well, I’m just looking at these words here and thinking that they don’t really apply to her. She’s so kind and cool, y’know? I don’t think there’s an obnoxious, violent, or whatever thing about her. Actually, have you seen my cutie mark?” Minerva turned over and rolled up her leather clothes to show off the picture on her flank.
“Cool, right? It’s a slingshot. Something a bunch of misfit unicorns created a while ago to help them throw things easier; usually at a teacher. It’s kind of a symbol for misbehaviour and stuff among ponies. Me? I’m a Pegasus, couldn’t hold or use one of these even if I practiced for weeks. When I was growing up I got made fun of for it, because all it could mean was that I was a no-good, deadbeat prankster to the other fillies. Like I was just somepony living to break the rules or whatever. It really got me down when I was growing up. But when I was in the academy, Princess Celestia pulled me aside to talk to me. The Princess herself! Talking to me! I couldn’t believe it. She told me not to be ashamed of who I was. She told me to keep following my dream of being a knight, because she could use a pony like me! Can you believe that? She said that I wasn’t a rule breaker, but a rule challenger. Somepony who fights the system whenever I don’t think it’s up to scratch. That was huge for me. It’s the reason I graduated! And when I did and went to join the knights, she talked to me again! She even remembered my name! She told me all of this stuff about her dreams for the future; a future where everypony works together to help ourselves and each other, where peace and prosperity rule the world, instead of the kinda fear and worry there is these days. It’s why I’m a knight. I want to see her accomplish that dream, y’know?”
“That sounds dangerously like a utopia.”
“Yeah! But… what’s wrong with that?”
“They have been done before.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of one.”
“Exactly.”
“Well… even so, I think if anypony can pull it off, it’s her.”
The pride that Minerva had in her leader was commendable. It almost made Concordia drop the whole thing and move on. She didn’t of course – there was a game to be won – but she considered it.
“First of all, I would not consider Celestia to be a pony. Not for our purposes, anyway. She is larger, stronger, and on the whole
very different from you, not only physically but mentally as well.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“And secondly, I would not be so sure that she is as benevolent as you think she is.”
“What do you mean?” Minerva asked incredulously, “Have you met her?”
“Yes. A few hundred years ago she and I met to discuss the relationship between ponies and dragons. At first, she was like you said, welcoming and agreeable. She apologized for the rift between us, and discussed with me actions that could be taken to alleviate it. However, there was something I could not ignore about her; a blemish from her past that I had read about in a variety of history books from many different languages, so I confronted her about it. I asked her what happened between her and her sister. Once I did, she suddenly became distant and angry. She ordered me to leave, as if she had the right, so I did. I have not spoken to her since.”
“Wait, wait, back up. Her sister? You mean Princess Luna? From the old ponies’ tales?”
“The very same. I am not surprised that you do not know she exists, considering how little Celestia will speak of her.”
“So you’re telling me there’s a Princess just like Celestia, serving 1000 years jail time on the Moon? And it’s her sister?”
“You were trained at her academy.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think she was real!”
“She certainly is, and the same glorious leader that you so proudly speak of is the same mare who acts as her denier and warden. I would not go spreading word of Luna’s existence through your peers, or you might not like what your idol becomes.”
“That’s so cool…” Minerva breathed, latching onto the wrong point of the argument in Concordia’s opinion. “Is she coming back soon?”
“Not in your lifetime, I am afraid. Her sentence ends in less than one hundred years now. I am hoping to see her return, but I worry that Equestria will not be prepared for it due to her sister’s silence.”
“I’m sure she’s got something figured out,” Minerva asserted, “She always knows what she’s doing.”
“That brings me to my next word: Complacent.”
Minerva sighed and squirmed against Concordia’s stomach. She was obviously getting tired of falling into Concordia’s traps. Unfortunately for her, Concordia was not losing interest in setting them.
“You see Minerva, despite the fact that I have given you a clear reason to question your leader, you still trust her without a shadow of a doubt. This is a common theme among your kind. Trust in Celestia, because she always knows best. But when it came to Luna, she most certainly did not know best. I do not know the exact circumstances behind Luna’s unrest, but I do know that a thousand years of imprisonment on another celestial body is not a good solution. The fact that Celestia would not speak to me about it when I confronted her confirms that even she believes that there were better options.”
“Maybe you’re just too pushy.”
“Perhaps, but as a powerful figurehead who undergoes constant scrutiny from her subjects whilst sitting atop a throne in an ornate castle for several thousand years,” Concordia paused to collect her untidying thoughts, “well… you would think she would know how to deal with tricky questions.”
Minerva’s eyes were closed now. She was still responding, but Concordia deduced that her body was finally rebelling against her, stealing away her energy in an attempt to coax her asleep. She had to win before that happened.
“Shall I move on?”
“Yup.”
“Lethargic.”
“I…” Minerva yawned obnoxiously. “I… don’t know what that word means.”
“In that case, ignorant.”
Minerva’s eyes re-opened and she craned her head to face Concordia’s visage. “I know you are but what am I?” She said snootily.
“Childish.” Concordia exposed an evil smirk as she snared Minerva once again.
“Argh!” Minerva shut her eyes and turned over. Concordia looked to the wall with glee while she waited for Minerva to argue any of her words. When there was no reply, she scrawled her hat-trick onto the rocks with her magic.
She looked at the ever-growing list – now at nine words – and hesitated for the first time. She was out of ideas. She scoured her vocabulary for more, knowing that there were others there, but she was still addled from sleeping for so long and couldn’t remember any. As she tried in vain to come up with the last word to finish the game, there was a disturbance in her senses. Just as she had felt Minerva’s approach less than an hour before, she was now noticing a conversation from more intruders at the cave entrance. She closed her eyes and listened intently.
Are you sure she’s in here? It doesn’t seem like a nice place for a pony. Maybe she’s left already? Waiting for us back in town?
Her sword is out in front of it, idiot! Where else would she be?
Maybe that was her telling us she’s not in here?
That doesn’t make any sense!
Well I’m SOOOOORRY, I didn’t realize you had it all figured out, GEEEENIUS! Besides, this whole day doesn’t make any sense! My hooves hurt, my nose is running, I’m freezing, freaking cold, and I want to go home! Maybe the captain will be okay without us? She seems pretty capable.
Recruit! Are you suggesting we abandon our leader to fend for herself in the Frozen North? I’ll bet your teachers wouldn’t like to hear that!
Ugh, I don’t even care anymore! I just don’t want to be here!
Will you shut up?!
All of you, shut up! Honestly, if I get out of this frozen disaster alive, I’m never going on another field trip again! How in Equestria did I end up babysitting a bunch of worthless brats like yourselves?
Concordia opened her eyes again and smiled. Minerva was just about asleep next to her, so she shifted slightly to rouse her before revealing her discovery.
“Whiny.” She stated with a smirk.
Minerva sat up to look her opponent in the eyes again. “Oh! My friends must be close!” She shouted happily.
Concordia laughed for the first time that night. She pounded the ground in front of her with an opened palm and kicked back her head. Her belly shook up Minerva as it bellowed a few hearty chuckles out of her mouth.
“Why Minerva, however could you tell?” She exclaimed between laughs.
Minerva laughed along with her. The weak giggles were dwarfed by Concordia’s deep chuckles. “Oh, just a hunch!” She cheered.
The two continued their jubilant fit as another icy spark appeared and wrote “whiny” on the wall. Concordia sensed Minerva’s troop enter the cave system and wondered if they had heard her laughing fit all the way up there.
“Okay, okay! Next one! I haven’t lost yet!” Minerva was full of excitement for the game again, but she hadn’t been paying enough attention to it to realize her mistake.
“Actually, you have,” Concordia replied.
“Huh?”
Minerva stood up, hobbled towards the wall and sat in front of it. She tapped her face and glanced at the ten cold words shining down on her. She turned away from it and twisted her mouth back and forth, as though she were a teacher grading a student’s paper.
“Yeah, that’s ten all right. Yikes, I couldn’t even stop you once! You’re pretty smart… But…” She paused and looked back at the words again, “It’s still not right. It doesn’t suit us.” She shook her head disapprovingly.
“The truth can be a hurtful thing.”
“No, I mean, I get all the words you picked and everything, but it just doesn’t look right. It’s not…” She sat down on the snow, still tapping her hoof against her chin, silently simmering, until she suddenly came across a solution.
“I’ve got it! Draw a heart around it!” She demanded happily.
“I beg your pardon? I will do no such thing.”
“Come on, just do it! It’ll be perfect.”
Concordia sighed and lazily lifted a claw towards the wall. She touched it gently at the base of the list, creating a surge of icy magic that split into two and drew both halves of a heart’s illustration simultaneously. It enveloped the words and created one of the most ridiculous things that Concordia had ever seen.
“Aha! See? What did I tell you?”
“I do not follow.”
“Oh come on, don’t you get it? Everything related to ponies has to have a heart in it. Our clothes, our buildings… and you know why?”
“No.”
“Because we’re all heart! Get it?”
“I do not.”
“Because that’s where all of our thoughts come from! Our hearts, instead of our brains! We’re all emotion!”
Concordia was growing weary of Minerva’s sudden excited shouting, but she was also starting to see what she was getting at.
“Let me get this straight, Minerva. These negative words that I’ve come up with to describe ponies has just been a long-winded way of saying you can’t use your brains?”
“Yeah! I think? Oh, what’s that word... that word that means smart…? We’re not very good at being…”
There were several words coming to Concordia, enough to bring the list up to fifteen, but she decided she had beaten up on Minerva enough and let her think uninterrupted.
“WISDOM!” Minerva cried, sending an echo through the tunnels outside of the dragon’s den. Concordia felt Minerva’s friends react to it, still far up above them.
“You’re not very good at being… wisdom?”
“Wise! Whatever! Think about it though, all of these things you say are so bad about us can be grouped together into just one word. I think you know what I mean.” Minerva was right. Concordia was miraculously following her thought process.
“You are unwise. Presumptuous, violent, fearful, self-righteous, lethargic… it is all because you are unwise.”
Minerva took flight and clapped her front hooves together, ignoring her injured foreleg. She flew around Minerva’s head like an excited bug around a flower as though she had just discovered something to take great pride in. Concordia found it amusing. She had never seen anyone so excited about being unwise.
“Impressive, Minerva. I do believe you have solved it,” Concordia said with just a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh, that feels so good to get out in the open, y’know?” Minerva sighed as her exhaustion caught up with her, dropping her like a stone out of the air. Concordia quickly caught her with a reflexive claw. She lowered her back down to her belly and allowed the tired Pegasus knight to rest against her once more. Minerva rubbed up against her contently. “Yeah… we’ve figured it out, Concordia. You and me, I knew we could do it.”
Concordia tried to understand what had just happened. Had she just lost? Perhaps it was a draw? She ignored it, remembering she did not care about the result, and turned her attention back onto the evolving mural. The elegantly drawn heart that surrounded ten of the most damning words she could think of stared back at her in inanimate pride. Her night of annoyance had suddenly turned into a fond memory in which she and an unexpected guest managed to find an excellent way to describe ponies, her least favourite species. It was truly an accomplishment she could not have done without Minerva’s ridiculous and short-sighted wager. However, she thought it to be excellent, not perfect as Minerva had proclaimed.
Unfortunately, the only thing these thoughts did was remind her that her guest was about to leave. That is, if the approaching whinging of her friends was anything to count on. She turned back to Minerva’s crumpled form, still covered in bruises, but smiling regardless. Concordia picked her up gently, swiveled and brought the pony back down on her other side, away from the wall and back towards the entrance. Minerva didn’t stir throughout the process.
“Minerva…” Concordia whispered gently, “your friends are getting close. You should probably go see them.”
“Aww… but I don’t want to leave yet.”
“They will see me.”
“Concordia…” Minerva’s weak voice suddenly sounded serious. She stood up painfully and walked beside Concordia’s form to see the writing on the wall again. She stared at it for a few seconds before asking a startling question. “…am I going to die?”
Concordia raised her head in shock. “What? Where is this coming from? No, your wounds are not nearly serious enough for that.”
“Then can’t I just stay here… for a little while longer?” She implored tiredly.
Concordia’s heart sank with a new wave of pity. Perhaps, she thought, she wasn’t the only one who needed a break from socializing with ponies. She surprised herself with her sadness, as she had just received the reaction from Minerva she had been trying to get all night: disappointment in her own race. She decided that she would allow her a little more rest. Even if her friends were coming, she still had a long journey ahead of her and could use the downtime.
“Very well. But once they are close, I will wake you so you can leave before they find me.”
“Cool…” Minerva whispered before heading back to Concordia’s stomach and being fillynapped by sleep.
Quiet took over Concordia’s home again, leaving only the slowly falling flurries and faint whisperings of a distraught group of ponies to keep her company. Despite the boisterous and loud attitude Minerva had when she was awake, she slept without a snore or a stir now, nuzzled comfortably against Concordia’s warmth. Concordia wanted a little more time to think before Minerva had to leave, so she closed off her senses to the approaching ponies. She felt glorious silence for the first time since Minerva had arrived, and it gave her chills of happiness, as well as a chance to think upon everything that had happened so far that night.
It had been a night where she could empty her opinions to another, and have time to look at them and understand why she had them. She wondered what Minerva thought of her. Did she think of her as a cruel and icy queen who took great pride in the unhappiness of ponies? Concordia didn’t feel that she had given her reason to think any different. Sure, she had given her shelter and warmth during her plight, but that was only to win the game. Or at least, that was her story.
However, such was the life of Concordia the hermit. Friendships were not allowed for one as introverted as she was. That was her old perspective, anyways. She had resigned herself to the cold, quiet cave more than a century before this night, telling herself that the lonely walls were a better company than the outside world, but now she was starting to feel overcome with a sense of friendliness and even adventure. Perhaps that was a side effect to speaking with ponies, the foolish and ignorant creatures that she had referred to with disdain for her entire life.
Indeed, they were all heart: A race of emotional and unreasonable souls, each with their own imaginative way of viewing the world around them. For ponies she had met before, the world was a frightening unknown where nobody could be trusted other than themselves. But for Minerva, it seemed the world was an exciting mystery novel, with a thousand questions to be asked during the story, and even more that are left unanswered after the conclusion. The studious stamina and interested inquiries were something Concordia had never experienced before in ponies. Were they all so easily defined using the ten words with which she had tried her hardest to break Minerva’s spirit? No, although they defined ponies perfectly well, seeing them in their sinister group made Concordia suddenly upset. She looked again at the child that was sleeping peacefully next to her. These words did not define her, and if they didn’t, then why were they there? Surely the list was only valid if it defined every element in the group?
It had to go. She furrowed her brow and moved her head back towards the wall, leaving her face just close enough to lick it clean. But instead, she drew in and exhaled a breath of pure, cold and magical air, filling in the gaps between the letters and the heart with an attractive shine. When it was finished, it revealed the heart again, only now it was solid with no remnants of the words inside. Concordia moved back and smiled, admiring her work. But even now, she thought, there was still something missing. Just as Minerva had added balance to the negative picture with the heart, Concordia had now coated it with pure optimism. How would she get the balance right? She knew there had to be a way, but she couldn’t think for long before her concentration was broken.
“Captain?!”
It was a cry from the entrance of her den. Minerva’s party had arrived, and Concordia only had herself to blame for not listening for their approach. She scolded herself and shifted her weight, trying to wake their friend, but Minerva stirred slowly. She groaned and winced as her wounds woke up with her. It was not a nice image; the injured Pegasus groaning in pain at the base of a laying dragon. Minerva’s friends were not happy to see it. Concordia kept trying to wake her up, whispering impatiently for her to stand.
Whilst she spoke, she kept a watchful eye on the unit at her front door. They were what she expected from their voices and Minerva’s story. A unicorn with a gray pelt and a dark green mane, tail and kempt beard stood in front of a band of young earth ponies. The unicorn’s horn was alit as it carried a short sword in front of him. The sword was missing a scabbard, and was decorated with a small ruby at its hilt. The unit of seven ponies was collectively thunderstruck at what they were witnessing, but in a way much different to Minerva’s reaction. These ponies showed fear right from the start; the unicorn was backing up and walking into his followers, who were all huddling up behind him for a futile means of protection. It was not an enormous issue that the ponies had seen her, and it would soon be over once the situation was explained. However, their fear still had Concordia worried, so she stayed alert.
“Foul beast! What have you done with Captain Minerva?!” The unicorn yelled. “Blast! It’s poisoned her! Prepare yourselves, recruits!” He moved the sword in behind him, aiming to hurl it Concordia’s way.
Concordia snapped away from Minerva and glared dangerously at the ponies. She smashed her front claws into the rock between her and the intruders. She stood up, bared her teeth and expanded her wings, suddenly falling back into her intimidation routine; only this time it was personal. The crystals shone with a brilliant blue light. Another roar was about to come barrelling out of her, and the snow that appeared from the ceiling and walls was now swirling in a menacing vortex, adding to the fear of the intruders.
“What did you call me?!” She shrieked. The ponies in front of her continued to slink away in fear. But the unicorn was still
holding Minerva’s sword, trying in vain not to be afraid. All of the unpleasant memories Concordia had of ponies were rushing back to her, enveloping her in a tidal wave of indignation. She was going to make them pay for how they addressed her. If it was a beast they thought she was, it was the beast that they were going to meet.
That is, if she wasn’t stopped first. Just when Concordia was about to cast an icy tornado at the intruders and send them flying out the way they came, she felt the tiniest of sensations against the side of her tensed hind claw. It was Minerva’s hoof – the injured one this time – pressed against her side. She looked down at her, teeth still bared and eyes still flared, and saw Minerva’s own eyes looking contently back at her, accompanied by her infectious smile.
“Hey… come on… this isn’t your style…” She breathed.
Concordia froze in place and lost all of her hostility immediately. The snow lost its velocity around her and dropped back into a calmed descent. She gazed at the half-asleep pony in complete shock at her words. She didn’t stop because she had been convinced that it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t stop because she was hesitant towards hurting Minerva’s friends. She stopped because Minerva was simply right. Wrath was not her style. She thought that she had been convincingly playing the role of the cynical and hostile recluse all night, but she didn’t realize that Minerva was still reading her perfectly, not unlike a book.
She sat back down and watched as Minerva walked past her toward her friends. She stumbled and tried to call out to them, but nothing loud enough came out. Instead, they called back to her.
“Captain Minerva!” The unicorn screamed with a trembling voice, unsure of why he had been spared. Concordia watched anxiously as the sword started to falter behind him. It was not the sword she was worried about, but the state of its wielder. He had the same fear that Concordia had spoken about before: An impulsive and dangerous fear that led to bad decisions.
“Catch!” He cried, throwing his foreleg forward, as if expending physical energy would somehow make his magical throw fly truer. However, in his addled and horrified stupor, he made a complete blunder of it. Not only was it now flying away from Minerva and towards Concordia’s throat, but it was also flying with enough speed that a pony without magic would have no hope of catching it. He let out a weak whimper as he threw the blade, immediately regretting his aim and power.
“Woah, woah, HEY!” Minerva screamed in surprise, suddenly waking up to the danger. She took flight towards the dragon and in front of the approaching blade, turning herself away from its path and bracing herself for the worst. Foghorn only watched in terror at what was unfolding; His confusion and horror not being alleviated at all.
Fortunately for Minerva, Concordia was aware of the situation. She brought down a wing to shield herself – and now Minerva – from the danger and pushed it away with a mighty extension. The sword weakly clanged off of the dragon’ armored wing and was sent flying back towards the ponies, frozen solid and twice as fast as it had come. The change in pressure sucked Minerva out of the air, causing her to land face first in the snow in front of her. The sword, meanwhile, zoomed past Foghorn’s thunderstruck face and crashed into the wall behind him, shattering into a hundred frozen shards. The earth ponies scattered at the thunderous noise of the sword’s collapse. Foghorn let out another loud whimper and shielded his head from the weapon several moments after it had already passed him. He collapsed and shuddered on the ground with his hooves over his eyes, while the others lay strewn behind him, panting heavily at the incredibly close call.
Concordia was about to become enraged once more, but stopped when she noticed that Minerva’s newly adrenaline fueled body had other plans. On what must have been her seventh or eighth wind, she skipped to her hooves from the floor and stood tall, facing her subordinates with a bemused and authoritative stance.
“Hey, Nice throw, HAWKEYE! You nearly took off my head with that! What the hay were you thinking?!”
Foghorn came out from behind his hooves, stood up and stared at his Captain incredulously. Concordia could not tell what was wider, his eyes or his mouth.
“I…I…” he stammered.
“Hey, don’t waste your breath! I know a mutiny when I see one!” She shouted louder than she had all night. “That’s it! All of you get your butts back outside! I want you all doing push ups from the time you get there to the time I get there! And if you’ve got any complaints you can turn them to Lieutenant Foghorn over here! Maybe next time he’ll think twice before launching a sword at my damn face! I left it up there so you could find me, not hurl it around like it’s a common foal’s toy!”
Just when Concordia thought she had Minerva figured out, a new side was revealed to her. She watched in amusement at the pony taking her side of the argument, without even giving her friend the time to speak. She doubted her qualifications as a captain before, but those doubts were soundly silenced now. The barking and insulting continued for another minute before reaching its conclusion.
“Now go on, get out of here! Move!”
“But… when will you…” one of the earth ponies whined.
“When will I get there? Whenever I damn well please! You got that, recruit?!
With that, the ponies scurried out of the cave entrance in a bundling mess. Concordia took the opportunity to have a look at their cutie marks. She saw agriculture, literature and other casual themes on the earth ponies. Foghorn had a horn – a musical horn – for his. They may have been soldiers, but none of them had intrinsic talents that denoted fighting, which Concordia was noticing was a common theme among Celestia’s knights. She chuckled as she saw them go, knowing that her glee must have confused them even more. Her evening was turning into an absolute delight.
“I’m glad you found that funny…” Minerva stumbled as she tried to keep her balance. She turned back towards Concordia just in time to see the sapphire eyes fix on her with a judging glare.
“Minerva,” Concordia scolded, “Why did you jump in front of that sword? You had no hope of catching it before it reached me.”
“Huh? I dunno… I guess I just… really didn’t want to see you get hurt… especially by my own sword, y’know?”
“What you did was unforgivably stupid,” Concordia said flatly.
Minerva laughed. “Yeah, I guess it was… But you know what? All you have to do is add stupid to your list!” She began laughing harder, amused by her own joke. “Yeah, I think it’ll fit right in! Wait…” She flew towards the picture on the wall to study it. “The words are gone… it’s just a heart now.”
“It looks better this way. Besides, only the two of us needed to see those words. They were for our wager, nothing more.”
“Oh, right, your prize… I’m sorry… you didn’t even get the ruby at the bottom. The thing’s totally wrecked.”
“It is fine with me, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah…. One less sword in the world and all that.”
Minerva flew back down between Concordia and the den’s entrance and placed her rump in the snow, in practically the same spot where she had placed it when she arrived hours before. The two friends, now both sitting, stared at each other in an awkward silence. Concordia knew what she had to do.
“It is time for you to leave,” She said, trying to hide the twinge of melancholy she was feeling.
“Yeah, I’d better catch up to those louts before they actually start doing those push-ups… They’ll probably expire out there if I let them do it…” She broke from her speech to cough three times, re-affirming herself as the pony most likely to expire. “Will I ever see you again?”
“Not likely. Whenever I am spotted in my cave, I usually leave to find another home. That way I am not disturbed again when the visitors inevitably return.”
“That’s kind of sad… I didn’t realize I was bucking you out of your home…”
“That is, of course, how it usually happens. So if I were you, and I most certainly am not, I would assume that I have left, and… make sure to tell your friends that as well. I wouldn’t want them to waste their time and come looking for me.” A goofy grin appeared on Concordia’s face, and she gave Minerva a wink. She felt a little embarrassed for her lack of subtlety as Minerva read the signal loud and clear.
“Oh, you bet! They won’t be coming around here again!” She cheered with her usual beaming smile.
“Excellent… Now, you had better go find yourself shelter and a healer.”
“Yeah, for sure!”
“But, before you go… I have a parting gift for you.”
Concordia turned back to the drawing on the wall. During the kerfuffle, she had discovered what it was missing. She reached a claw up to her mouth and breathed into her palm, releasing a fresh batch of six ice-writers. She gently tossed them at the wall, and they latched onto it in a line below the heart. In less than a second, they simultaneously carved six crystalline letters into the rocky surface, each one twice as big as Minerva. Concordia stepped back to reveal the finished product.
Minerva buckled over laughing once the light cleared. The crystal mural had now gone from ten words to just one: Stupid. The heart that was previously tattooed by its lonesome on the wall now acted as the dot above the fifth letter. Concordia started laughing along with her friend. She greatly approved of the drawing’s conclusion, and she beamed with acceptance at the perfect balance that they had achieved between positive and negative.
“That’s perfect!” Minerva exclaimed between laughs as she lay on her back in the snow. “That’s ponies!”
“Indeed.”
It was a strange turn of events that led the ill-begotten traveller and introverted dragon to meet in the middle of a dark hole inside a mountain in the middle of the Frozen North. History between ponies and dragons suggested that their meeting should have ended moments after it began. However, in an even stranger turn of events, the two friends were now sharing their last moments together in laughter. The juvenile and heart-dotted word was now their symbol of peace and agreement. It suited them well, Concordia felt.
Eventually, Minerva recovered from her fit, stood back up and flew towards the cavern entrance. She gave Concordia one last smile and wave before thanking her for not beheading her lieutenant. She flew out of the cave towards her party and out of sight. The sound of her giggles faded, then the sound of her wings, then the sound of her hooves against the rocks whenever she stopped for a break. Finally, Concordia was alone in her silent hollow again. It was what she wanted all along, but it was a touch bittersweet to her now. She did not know when – or if – she would ever be visited again.
She sat still and pondered what to do next. The snow gently fell around her, perfectly reflecting the light from the crystals around her, creating an image of peace and serenity. One last time, she closed her eyes and listened to make sure Minerva had found her friends. She had indeed, and they were now talking as if somehow, their night was not plagued with violence and poor decisions. She listened carefully to hear what they were discussing. Was Minerva regaling her friends with the story of how she tamed a dragon? Were they plotting their next visit to her cave?
C-… Captain…?
Oh, hey there Private Turncoat! Nice to see you back on our side!
I- Captain…I didn’t m-… I mean I was so, I….
Woah, woah, stop your crying! We’re all fine aren’t we? Y’know, no thanks to the lieutenant!
Har, har. I already apologized! How was I supposed to know that crazy monster was your friend?
I’ll thank you not to call her that, Foghorn.
Fine, just a monster, then! So, Minnie, do we have any more plans for the newbies? Or are we done torturing them?
Hmm… Oh! The bandit’s lair wasn’t that far from here. Anypony wanna go make some more arrests?
NO!
Remarkable. Even after the daunting trials they had just endured, they still found a way to joke – and even laugh – about the whole affair. Where did they get the energy? Was it just being among friends that let them achieve the impossible and continue running on empty? Concordia slumped back down to her sleeping position. Slumber was beginning to reacquaint itself with her, and her comforting mound of snow was reforming. She stayed awake so she could listen to the laughing and crying of her recently departed guests. They slowly grew fainter and fainter until there was nothing left at all. The loud echoes were replaced with the usual rustling of the mountain dwelling animals, re-emerging from their hideouts now that the obnoxious visitors were finally gone. Concordia opened her eyes and gave one last look at the drawing that she and Minerva had created on the wall.
The large insulting word, dotted with a solid heart, truly defined ponies more perfect than anything she had ever seen in her life. It wasn’t just the symbol of a foolish and eccentric race; it was the trademark of one of life’s most exciting time: Childhood. The stage in life filled with the most mistakes and the most innocent wonder; the stage of discovery. For the first time in a long time, she pondered the future with hope and expectancy. These ponies were more than just the ill-mannered fools she had thought of them in the past. They were also explorers. And what great worlds could ponies explore once they matured into adulthood? What challenges could possibly slow them down if they had each other to learn from and depend on? It was a future that she wanted to see.
Perhaps it was the venting, or perhaps it was crossing paths with Minerva’s unwavering spirit, but her opinions had now expanded into another dimension. Her content sighs continued as she laid alone in her solitude, coating the ground beneath her chin with a thin layer of ice with every breath. Her eyes fell closed, selfishly keeping her piercing sapphire eyes to themselves. It was time to re-acquaint herself with her favourite friend – sleep. She released her thoughts and drifted into dream world, taking her first steps in the long journey to meet the next generation.
~
Author's Note
Addendum to this story can be found here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/255772/2/addenda/good-knights-write-home
