The world has existed for longer than any of us remember. Some may claim that Celestia and Luna formed it out of nothing, and have been guiding ponykind ever since the first foal opened his or her eyes, but that is nothing more than a supposition, one that deifies our rulers against their desires. Rather, from what few hints the princesses have given, and careful examination of the magical energies trapped within the earth itself, it seems much more likely that at one point in the distant past, a calamity occurred that could have destroyed everything. However, before the consequences could reach their most dire, this crisis came to an end. The source of this catastrophe was almost certainly brought to its knees by Celestia and Luna, but when they triumphed, they realized that the world—and everyone in it—would not survive without their help. It was then that they started the nation of Equestria, and it was then that the world as we know it began.
~A Revised History of Equestria - published 1001 P.N.
She sighed. "The wounds inflicted upon this world by the Ancients may never truly heal. Your princesses—Celestia and Luna—have taken into themselves twin powers far older than any who live. The Mad Moon's creation and destruction predate even myself, ancient as I am, but I know of some few immortals that were willing to tell me of events that transpired before my hatching."
"What the heck are you talking about?" Spike frowned in confusion. "I asked about how the Princesses move the sun and moon, not whatever this is."
A small smile graced her muzzle at the young one's impatience. "Stories must be told properly, child, and what is history if not a story? Answers without understanding are worth nothing, so this story must begin by imparting knowledge."
Glancing at the sun above, Auroth continued, "Radiant. A force tied to growth, rebirth, and light. But as the sun's life-giving heat can scorch the land, Radiant energies left unmitigated will result in infinite and constant reformation of reality itself. Pure chaos."
"Hang on, that sounds familiar." Spike brought a claw to his chin to think, then snapped his fingers when it came to him. "Yeah, Discord broke free a few weeks ago! He made stuff happen like that, but Twilight and the girls managed to stop him before it could get to that 'infinite and constant’...whatever you were talking about."
The Eldwurm nodded at her junior. "Yes, just so. Celestia was not the first in recent times to attempt to use the Radiant's power for herself. In that respect, the being you know as Discord was her predecessor. However," she continued, forestalling any reply, "even at his peak, he had not a tenth the control Celestia does today, and less than a hundredth the will. Without that will, it wasn't long until he, like so many others, would become naught but a pawn of the Radiant. If that crisis had taken a turn for the worse, I would likely have intervened—I am one of the few who still possesses the means to combat even a fraction of the Ancients' power. I am glad I had no cause to do so. Had I been more attentive all those years ago, perhaps offered advice..." She took on a wistful look for a brief second, then shook her head and dismissed her regrets. "But what's past is set; one must simply learn from it.
"To continue, the Radiant's opposite is the Dire. Dire is everything Radiant is not: death, decay, and darkness, among other things. And so, from the moment they came into being, Radiant and Dire clashed. So evenly matched were they that as time passed, their battle raged ever larger, until finally, it threatened to destroy entire worlds whose only crime was to be caught in the crossfire. It was then the Primordials acted. Radiant and Dire were sealed away, and their prison cast out to fall forever, until it fell upon a newly-born world, still cooling from the heat of creation. That world was ours, and when the first sentient beings looked up, they saw suspended in the heavens above a massive sphere of luminous crystal, which would come to be known as the Mad Moon. I know not how long it hung there, but what I do know is that it was simple chance that guided the Mad Moon to our world, a chance that the Primordials had not fully accounted for. Within their prison, the Radiant and Dire were able to exploit tiny weaknesses in the structure, thanks to our world's gravity straining them in ways they were not meant to withstand.
"Eventually, the Moon began to fracture. And one day, one terrible, glorious day, the Mad Moon burst, shattered into a million shards. Most of the former Moon was hurled into the void of space, but some few pieces, along with the essence of Radiant and Dire, fell to earth. They were discovered by those who lived, back in the forgotten past, and civilizations rose around the Ancients. Even incomplete, they were able to grant boons to those around them - unparallelled magical strength, protection from all but the most grievous blows, and even true resurrection of the dead. But these boons came at a cost. Anything affected by an Ancient's energies became an extension of that Ancient. So it came to be that the Radiant was at the center of a lush forest, teeming with life, while the Dire could be found in the midst of a blasted husk of a land, everything within its influence twisted and bereft of vitality.
"The civilizations that sprang up around the Ancients spread their influence ever further, but where Radiant and Dire met, the timeless battle began anew, writ small once more. Each lessened the power of the other, and it was discovered that neither could be whole again while its foe-stone yet remained. The thralls of the Ancients clashed, single-minded in their determination to destroy the opposing army's sponsor, and the war's effects were felt through all of reality. Heroes came, beings of immeasurable power, each one called to fight for either Radiant or Dire.
"Such a gathering of heroes had never been seen before, and the world shall not see its like ever again. A Spectre, called from a higher plane of existence, her words confused and her identity shattered, finding herself only in the climax of victory. A masked warrior from a sunken isle whose skill with a blade rendered him nearly unstoppable, a true Juggernaut. A Grand Magus who earned his title many times over, mimicking and mastering whatever arcane arts his opponents possessed. A rogue caretaker of the web of fate, cast out for changing events according to his own whim—but even exiled, still a Weaver. The essence of a faraway star, reborn in flame as a Phoenix. Joining these five were so many others that were I to tell you of them all in the detail their stories deserve, we would be still be here when the sun set.
"And yet, though these heroes were all true figures of legend, some possessed of unrivalled intellect, none realized what was truly happening; that they were only pawns of two forces that were as reflections in a mirror. So much alike were they that even with such heroes under their command, neither side could truly claim victory. The battle ended, after years of constant fighting, in a draw. A blade sundered the Direstone at the same instant the Radiantstone was cracked by a maceblow. There was a tremor, and a burst of energy which overcame all present, and when the dust cleared, both Ancients were reduced to mere shadows of their former selves. They had not even the power to lash out at each other, to do that which had consumed them since time immemorial. Rather, they had been changed into conduits. The Ancients could no longer control their own power, but it was only through them that this power could be accessed.
"Those among the heroes versed in the magical arts quickly discovered this fact, and it was only thanks to their prodigious skill that they were not overcome. For although the Ancients could no longer exert their influence directly upon the world, they were still able to corrupt any that attempted to access their power. And so, all the heroes came to an agreement—the Radiant and the Dire must be locked away, for the risk they posed, should any attempt to use their power, was simply too great to be allowed.
"For thousands of years it was so, but as the Mad Moon proved, no prison is eternal. When the Ancients were discovered once more, it was by a single being who sought to solve his world's problems. However, he knew not the extent of the forces he had discovered, nor did he know the means by which they could be held in check. He took up the Radiant's mantle, intending to use the light to cast away all malice, but in doing so, he burned himself to a cinder. The husk that remained became a vessel for the Radiant's will, and chaos overtook the world. The natural order which had held since time immemorial was cast down, and all who lived were subject to the whims of a being that cared nothing for their lives.
"The Ancient reveled in its perceived victory, its pride convincing it to leave the Dire imprisoned where it had lain to watch as the world was twisted and its desires were made real. But before long, two sisters found the strength to confront it. These two sisters had not the power, wisdom, or knowledge of the heroes of old, but they made up for it in sheer force of will. They challenged the Radiant to a battle, but rather than fighting it head-on, they used what magic they did possess to weave a spell of domination. This spell forced a clash of wills, a struggle decided by pure determination. Everything froze. The force that guided reality itself was dragged inwards, and it stood there for days, staring unblinkingly at the sisters, who were themselves as statues. I know not how their battle unfolded. None do, save for the three participants, and I suspect no other will for a long time to come. When they at last cast the Ancient down, the elder sister took its power for herself. The Dire was found soon after, and the younger sister subjugated the darker Ancient, to prevent its later discovery by one who could not control it.
"But even though the Radiant's hold on the world had been broken, the damage was done. The sun and moon hung motionless in the sky, leaving half the planet in eternal light while condemning the rest to everlasting darkness. The sisters took it upon themselves to embody the balance that had been scoured away, and as they began anew the cycle of day and night, they ushered in a new age—an age of harmony for all."
Her story concluded, Auroth fell silent, and cast an appraising eye on the young drake. She had observed this new, changed world from afar since its inception, and for a time, she had believed that there was nothing else left for a relic of the past such as her. But perhaps, fate had seen fit to give her another purpose beyond keeping the Eldwurm Eddas, which might very well be the last record of history before the world's rebirth—even if that purpose was nothing more than passing on her charge.
Time passed, and Spike was still, slowly processing the tale he'd been told. The wyvern waited for his response, content to leave him to his contemplation for as long as he needed.
Then, at last, he frowned, tapping a claw on his chin. "You know, Twilight might want to hear this. I mean, she is Princess Celestia's personal student, and she's really into history and all that stuff." Giving a nervous chuckle, he continued, "To be honest, I just asked that question because I didn't think anyone was old enough to remember things like that. I didn't expect you to actually be able to answer it. And, um, Twilight would also probably be able to figure out how much of that actually happened. Not that I think you're lying or anything," he hastily amended, nearly tripping over his words, "but you might have just...remembered wrong, right?"
"You still don't trust me, and want someone you do trust to help determine whether I am what I say I am." It was not a question, but a statement, and an amused one at that. Spike released a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding; he was very glad she hadn't taken offense. "Very well. I shall return tomorrow at noon." Nodding a farewell, she took wing, flying deep into the heart of the Everfree Forest.
The librarian's assistant looked off after the departing wyvern, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Guess I need to work on that."
Night came and went, and when the sun reached its zenith, Twilight Sparkle found herself approaching the Everfree Forest with more than a little nervousness tapping a rhythm on her heart. When she’d found herself caring for a dragon hatchling all those years ago, just after she earned her cutie mark, she’d torn through the Canterlot library several times over in search of whatever books on dragons it held. She firmly believed that no information was useless, and so in addition to the tomes on dragon physiology, biology, and psychology, she’d also eagerly devoured every little fact and speculation on the dragon race put to paper by ponykind.
It was this information—specifically, the knowledge that most dragons found the act of telling a lie to be abhorrent—that convinced her to believe Spike when he told her that he’d met a dragon older than modern civilization itself.
She was somewhat more wary of its motives; the various psychoanalyses of dragons that were available had all agreed that foremost among the race’s mindset was an acute self-interest, backed by a particularly nasty ruthlessness. Whatever it was doing here, she could be certain that it was trying to further its own goals in some way. Whether Twilight (or Ponyville itself, she realized with a start) would become collateral damage would depend on what those goals were and how thoroughly the dragon could mislead or manipulate her.
Another pony would, perhaps, have simply refused to meet with the dragon upon realizing what could be at stake, but Twilight knew that her greatest strength was not in her magical power, but her mind. If any pony could turn the situation to their own advantage, aside from the Princesses, it was her, but anxiety brought on by her inexperience ate into the confidence this knowledge granted. Even with uncertainty threatening to pull her under, though, the scholar in her kept her hooves moving. The prospect of a conversation with someone that remembered events thought forever lost to history was an opportunity that would not come again, and so she moved onward regardless of the consequences.
Eagerness and apprehension warring within her, her trot ground to a halt when she approached the location Spike had named as the meeting place, and caught her first sight of the dragon.
It rested with its eyes closed on the grass in a strange posture, supporting itself with both its wings and its legs. This threw Twilight off momentarily, but she soon wrote it off as a quirk of the individual—only to throw that assumption out the window when she noticed a distinct lack of forelegs. This dragon only possessed four limbs rather than the six she’d expected at first glance; one pair of legs and one pair of wings. None of the books she’d found had included this as even a slight possibility. They were all adamant that dragons were four-legged creatures, able to function in either quadrupedal or bipedal postures. She grew giddy at this realization. She was looking at a type of dragon that everypony thought didn’t exist! This would be an earth-shattering revelation in the field of dracology—but no, that wasn’t important at the moment. Twilight took a few deep breaths and filed that line of thought away for later perusal.
The strange dragon’s scales were a pale, chilly blue, and on its head, where its limp, stringy mane of strange hair ended, was a protrusion that reminded her of nothing so much as a clump of icicles. Twilight took a few tentative steps, unconsciously edging closer for a more thorough examination, but an atavistic fear halted her before she could approach too closely. Annoyance grew within her at the rise of her race’s old instincts, amplified by her knowledge of their origins. True, ancient ponies would not have had much in the way of defense against such a fearsome predator—for with those jagged teeth, it could be nothing else—but all three tribes of ponies found today would be able to easily fend off or escape from something as dangerous as this, whether through earth pony strength and resilience, pegasus agility, or unicorn magic.
Shoving her fear deep within herself, she smothered it with logic, and when she was in full control of herself once more, she schooled her expression into passionless neutrality and steeled herself for a battle of wits. Then, when she felt herself prepared, she spoke a greeting.
The dragon’s eyes opened at the sound of her voice, and Twilight couldn't quite suppress a tiny shiver at that hard gaze, even through the barriers she had erected around the unthinking part of her mind. It was as though she was peering directly into the heart of a glacier, and in its icy depths, somehow, something was staring right back. But then, it blinked, and as quickly as the feeling had come over her, it passed. The dragon's eyes softened, and they swept over her figure, pausing only to meet her own nervous stare.
"I apologize. Sometimes, old habits never truly fade."
Twilight's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Had she (the detached part of her noted that the voice was female) noticed her reaction, slight as it was, or even sensed her unease?
"I am known as Auroth, the Winter Wyvern, and keeper of the Eldwurm Eddas. I hope this day finds you well."
Startled into politeness by the dragon's unexpected formality, Twilight found herself replying in kind.
"It does, thank you. I am Twilight Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia and bearer of the Element of Magic."
Auroth gave a respectful dip of her head, and adjusted her positioning with a rustle of leathern wings. "Now that we have introduced ourselves, I imagine there are questions you would like to ask of me." There was a gleam in her eye. "I would certainly have several, were I in your place."
Twilight was at a loss. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd expected this encounter to play out, but this definitely wasn't it. She took the invitation at face value, stalling for time as she continued trying and failing to find an explanation that matched up with what she'd heard. "What were you doing, before I got here?"
"A...friend...once taught me, long ago, how to read the magical energies around me. Though I am not as adept at the art as he was, I still find it to be a worthwhile way to pass the time."
Maybe this 'Auroth' was here to feel her out, to get a sense for what she was like? That would imply some sort of long-term goal, and Ponyville didn't have anything a dragon would be terribly interested in, unless you counted Rarity's gem-finding abilities, and that was a stretch. "So you study magic?"
"Not as such. My skill with magic is hardly a result of study. Rather, it was borne of necessity. I have learned some few spells outside my natural affinity, but I would hesitate to call it anything more than dabbling."
Then again, the long-term goal didn't have to involve Ponyville; perhaps it had something to do with the Princesses or Canterlot. Still, though, there were better avenues of obtaining information than Twilight. Unless...they were searching for a hostage? No, that was also very unlikely. It embarrassed her somewhat, but she often believed that Princess Celestia saw her as the closest thing to a foal she had. Taking her hostage would, more likely than not, ensure Celestia's wrath. "I knew that dragons are inherently magical in ways no other creature is, but I've never really had the opportunity to learn anything more specific. What do you mean by 'natural affinity?'"
"You ask for your ward, Spike, correct? I'm afraid I cannot tell you anything that would be of use."
Putting her speculation on hold, Twilight brought her full attention to the conversation at this. Whatever the answer to her next question might be, it could provide a crucial clue to the dragon's motives, even if it was but a half-truth. "What do you mean?"
"I was hatched thousands of years ago, long before the world took the shape it does today. Everything has changed since then, and dragons are no exception. I, however, managed to escape, thanks to the aid of an old ally, and I alone among dragons remained untouched by the chaos. So, to teach you of myself would be a lesson in ancient history—nothing more, nothing less." A hint of bitterness crept into Auroth's voice as she spoke, but almost immediately, she schooled her tone to neutrality once again.
That glimmer of emotion, brief and accidental as it may have been, resonated within Twilight Sparkle, and in that moment, some of the mystery that surrounded the ancient dragon was unveiled. She was no agent of a greater power, nor did she have any secret agenda. She was just a relic of the distant past, forced to find her footing in a world that had moved on. She was so very lonely, and when Twilight tried to imagine what it must be like, to live for so long alone, she found tears welling up in her eyes.
"I—" Twilight tried to say something, but a lump rose in her throat, and she couldn't quite manage to speak around it. After doing her best impression of a fish for a few seconds, she finally swallowed it and forced her reply out, through her voice was still unsteady. "I'd still like to hear it."
Auroth gave a sad smile and shook her head, having guessed what was going on in the unicorn's mind during those silent seconds. "My time has long since passed. I have come to accept that, in the ages since, and though I thank you for your kindness, it does not change the truth of the matter."
"But...it doesn't have to be that way forever, does it? You're still alive, and you're here right now. You can at least try, right?"
The wyvern paused. In truth, that possibility had never occurred to her in those long millennia, and now that another had mentioned it, she felt like the greatest of fools for not realizing it herself. After all, she was, in her heart of hearts, a storyteller, and every storyteller worth the title knew that when one tale ended, it was only so that another could begin. Her story had ended with the Ancients' fall, that much was true—but it didn't mean that she couldn't have a part in the next. The only thing that had stopped that so far was her own stubbornness.
She chuckled wryly, and spoke softly to herself, “As ever, age does not always beget wisdom.” Then, more loudly, she replied, “I suppose I can, can’t I? How would you suggest I begin, then?”
To Twilight, a student of the magic of friendship, the answer was obvious. “Well, I’d still like to get to know you. That friend you mentioned—maybe you could tell me a little bit about him?”
“I could—though you may well know more about his recent accomplishments than I,” she answered, the faint hints of a smile forming on her face.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“That will have to remain a secret; he’d be very disappointed if he learned that I didn’t let him see the look on your face when you found out. However,” she continued, "I will tell you something of how he was in the time before the world's chaotic rebirth. Unless I miss my guess, Spike would have shared the tale I gave him with you, correct?"
Twilight nodded. "I was a little surprised at the way he told it; usually he's not so...um, eloquent."
Auroth gave a satisfied hum. "Then I have made a better choice than I could have hoped for," she mused. "Likely, he relayed my words exactly as he heard them, so you will know that in telling that story, I referred to a gathering of Heroes. Five in particular I mentioned, and the friend you asked after is one of those five."
"He has been known by many names as the ages have come and gone, but his true name is Rubick," she continued as, for the second time in as many days, she returned to the memories of times long past, "and in his time, he bore the title of Grand Magus."
Author's Note
Any comments solely complaining about the abrupt beginning of this story will be summarily ignored. I started writing this in medias res, intending to eventually go back and add something else in the beginning, but I wound up writing the thing so that it worked with such a sudden start. I eventually decided to just leave it more or less as-is, mainly because I didn't feel like completely rewriting sections I was perfectly happy with just to follow a "proper" sequence of events when I feel I've given enough information that you're not really missing out on too much.
