The Greatest Treasure
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, the ponies lived in great harmony. There was little conflict to be had for them in the world, and their society flourished. No war, no famine, no terror or despair or conquest.
But not all was wonderful, as it might seem from the outside. Everypony had his or her little problems, more than they could hide. A coltfriend and marefriend might end a relationship. A pony may grow old and pass, or fail in courtship. There was an occasional tragedy, but nothing that could not be overcome, through a strong determination and a bit of decent strategy.
But what of the rest of the beings of Equestria, those who weren’t ponies? Well, the gryphons lives were certainly trophies. They lived in the same world with the same struggles and blessings. The Zebras lived their lives well, off on their own in their far away lands and alien dressings.
There was one being, though, who felt not as blessed as the rest. He lived in a cave, far to the west. Ponies searched and spread wide to find out where he hides, but many simply believed that he died.
Deep in his cave, on the top of the mountain, a dragon lay waits out his days, his energy no longer a fountain. Out his cave door, the lands are in his gaze, seeing ponies all over take their time to graze. He watches them move about their daily lives, for watching them brings him closer to that for which he strives.
One day, as he sat in his place, contemplating time immemorial and space, he received a visitor, clad in shining armor, and clearly this individual was not a farmer.
The dragon looked down at the pony in his home, wondering from where it was that he roamed. It was an Earth Pony knight, seeking fame no doubt, and with his head raised high and chin pushed out, he said,
“Oh, ye dragon, keeper of dames, bringer of fortune and infinite fame, I come to you now, to prove my battle prowess, so have at thee! That my fans may be countless!”
The dragon looked down at the knight, befuddled but polite, for he had to wonder, had he committed a slight?
“I see you want fame, and glory and fortune,” the dragon said, face in confused contortion. “But I have not harmed anypony, so your fame would be phony.”
“Grant me your hoard and I’ll be on my way,” the knight said proudly. “When they see my riches, no mare can say neigh.”
“As you can see, I have no great hoard,” the dragon replied, growing rather bored. “My treasure consists of oh so much more-“
But when the dragon looked down to where the knight stood, the knight had vanished with his head under a hood. The dragon huffed, dissatisfied, unhappy, and offended, but continued to sit there, for he knew his treasure was quite splendid.
The days would pass, the legend still told, nopony stopped looking, failing never grew old. The rumors changed, though, with the knight’s return, that gold was not worth any kind of burn. Instead, the dragon had something of much greater power, something that would make any normal pony, in fear, go to cower.
The dragon still lay in his spot, watching the lands; the birds flew by, offering him feathers tanned. He liked the feathers, they reminded him of friends, whom he hoped to meet when he reached time’s end.
Each day his knowledge grew, as he watched over the lands, prepared to act, but now slow as sand. He felt unneeded, unwanted and untouchable, but that was okay, for it meant that for no actions was he culpable.
That would change one, though, when he received another visitor. This one carried an item of quite the famous signature. It was a staff of great magic, from Starswirl himself, and f the dragon knew right, he knew its home shelf.
A unicorn stood below him now, looking up rather confidently, a feeling the dragon did not get like he used to so constantly. The unicorn wore a robe of fine silk and linen, though he appeared to be the kind who would gladly kick a kitten.
“Oh ye dragon, master of time! I have no doubt you have committed a terrible crime!”
The dragon puffed at the unicorn, sending him back a step. But the pony went on, and forward he crept.
“I forgive them now, on behalf of ponykind, but only if you share the secrets which you so desperately hide!”
The dragon looked down with narrowed eyes and a frown.
“I have committed no crime, oh ye of poor taste, now unless you want to burn, I suggest you make haste.”
The unicorn gulped hard and tried to play another card.
“Forgive me, I mistook you for another, from this moment on, I’ll treat you as a brother.”
The dragon was unamused, but accepted the unicorn’s words and let it defuse.
“I know not what knowledge you seek, your quest is quite generic. But so far, I am unconvinced, as you seem somewhat barbaric.”
The unicorn huffed and decided to sound a little less tough.
“I seek the knowledge of magic and spells and Aetherius!” he proclaimed boldly. “I seek to succeed where others became delirious.”
“You want magic and the secrets of old?” the dragon asked. “For what do you desire this power, that can the world mold?”
“I wish only to unravel the secrets of the natural world,” the unicorn replied. “To take up the secrets and make them uncurled.”
The dragon sighed. “I have no such knowledge of magic, spells, or enchantments, but I do have something, if your quest is not so frantic-“
But alas, before the dragon could answer, the unicorn disappeared, showing his class. But the dragon minded not, for the unicorn deserved not to be taught.
And so, the dragon continued to lay in wait for the end of his days, with nothing but his mind, an increasingly difficult maze. He long missed his friends, but knew he would see them soon, possible as quickly as tomorrow at noon.
But before peace came to him, he had one desire. A pony who could see the value of his life prior. A pony who would listen and listen very well, and feel no need like the last to constantly yell.
His wish came in the form of a young mare, one day, a Pegasus of red and blue, flying like a Jay. The dragon looked up as she entered his cave, unsure of what exactly he should say.
She floated before him, a familiar coat of red and blue most light. She showed no signs of greed or anger or fright. She merely looked at him, studied his form, then, with a strong voice, asked,
“As a dragon, are you warm?”
The dragon blinked once, slow and deliberate, and with a response most simple yet intricate, said
“Would you like to see?”
And the mare floated forth with a single happy squee.
She pressed herself on his chest, feeling the warmth of his fire, but soon her voice took on a tone most dire.
“Your heart, it is slow!” she shouted in fear. “Surely you know, that your end is near?”
The dragon nodded slow, aware of his time. “I know of what you speak, and I assure you, I’m fine.”
The Pegasus mare floated to the ground and put a hoof on his scales, they were smooth and fine, like well-kept nails.
“I come seeking thy treasure, oh great and ancient dragon,” the mare stated. “But I seek not that which is carried in a wagon.”
“What do you seek, my fair pegasus maiden?” the dragon asked. “For you’re in the right, I have nothing with which you can be laden.”
The mare moved away and sat on her rump, and the dragon wished he could offer to her a sitting stump.
“I seek not the knowledge of ancient days past, nor the riches of treasures owned by ponies you glassed. I seek the treasure which you have grown over the years, your wisdom, lessons, and reasons for cheers.”
The dragon smiled. “You make me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I have not known a mare such as you since I was in my prime. I will give you these treasures which I have grown after so long, so that you may continue to live life and always be strong.”
The dragon laid his lessons out for the mare, in song and poem and statement fair. Time with friends, lovers, and humbling moments alike, all came together for the final time in his life.
When his story was told, the dragon lay his head down. The mare, now sad, looked at him with a frown.
“Why must you go, ye who taught me so much?” she asked. “This world needs you, and your wise old touch.”
“My time has passed, I am afraid, and I must now go,” the dragon said slow. “It is up to you to spread what we shared and know.”
The mare stood, but rather than leave, she walked to the dragon. From a bag she held, she removed an item and to him it was fastened. The dragon could not see it, for it was out of sight, and he could not move, for now his time was right.
“What have you given to me, oh generous maiden?” the dragon asked. “I cannot see, for my vision is faded.”
“The mark of the one who loved a dragon long ago,” the mare replied, choked up. “I give to you the old diamond trio.”
The dragon smiled. “I thank you for your gift, you have made this day most wonderful. You can turn a dragon into one most humble.”
The mare walked back, but did not leave.
“Before I go, I must ask one thing,” she stated.
“Ask quickly, then, for my death song I sing,” the dragon replied.
“What is your name, oh ye of such age? What do I call you, when I write your lessons on the page?”
The dragon thought. “I am afraid I don’t remember that one simple thing. It has been so long since I donned my wedding ring. I remember other names, though, the things I was called. On many trees, with my lady, our names I have scrawled. Some said Little Guy, or Champ, or Little Resistant, but I think my favorite name was Number One Assistant.”
The mare smiled. “I shall remember you that way, for it is certainly true. I shall tell the tales of the many events which you have been through.”
But the mare received no response, the dragon was asleep, forever eyes closed, but not counting sheep. With tears in her eyes, but joy in her heart, the mare flew away to go do her part.
