Spike leaped out of bed at the crack of dawn, sunlight flickering through the window and glowing over his bed. Stretching his arms out, joints cracking into place, he skipped and hopped down the dark corridors of Twilight's castle. Such was Spike's morning ritual whenever the first weekend of the month dropped. He could dash along the aquamarine, mirror-like floor with his eyes shut.
After all, today was the day the new comic issues would drop by Ponyville's Hobby Shop. Regardless of what anypony would tell Spike, getting up at six in the morning to grab some comic books was normal, though waking up early with sleep in his eyes and yawns leaving his mouth every few seconds were the drawbacks.
Making his way down the hallway, Spike glanced over to the tall, crystalline walls to his left and right. To other dragons, such a dazzling display would look more like the grandest of feasts than decoration, but Spike always found it to be the latter. If he were a little larger, maybe he'd have a desire to take a small nibble of a crystal, given the stories he had heard of how gluttonous some dragons could be. Then again, it probably would taste like dry mulch, given how the castle came to be. The true reward would be seeing over the tops of ponies' heads for once.
"Wait a minute," Spike muttered, slowing down to short, slow steps. Scratching his chin, his eyes glanced down at his glowing reflection on the floor, which resembled waves of purple and green watercolors. "Wasn't I huge once before?" Digging into the crevices of his brain, Spike unearthed memory after memory. Memories which made him smile and chuckle and those which pulled his heartstrings reached the top of his mind. However, all of them were tied with a one common thread, one Spike recognized as small.
Not one picture within his mind displayed him as a colossus, let alone one who could tower over the entire town. Nevertheless, Spike sensed a tightness constrict his muscles. Blinking, he gazed down at his reflection once more, its image one of a towering figure with sword-like fangs, scales made of thousands of purple shields, and emerald eyes glaring down below. The glow in its pupils dilated Spike's own, his breath picking up.
"Why am I thinking of this now?" Spike asked, his voice echoing within the castle's walls. "I don't even remember much of it, especially since it happened eight months ago." Approaching the gold-plated door, its frame looming above Spike and its sheen as bright as a star, he placed the palms of his hands on it. A chill coursed through his arms and down his spine. "I mean, there's no reason why I'd still feel bad about it, right?" He pushed the door open, an ear-splitting roar polluting the air as Spike winced and covered his ears, resorting to his shoulder to do the work. "Heck, I won't even see anything or anypony reminding me of it. The odds of—I don't want to tempt fate, but still." A soft chuckle left Spike's lips. "I'm getting comics, and today is going to be awesome!"
A blinding light shone through the door's gap, Spike squinting and then closing his eyes shut. Maybe something to block the sunlight during the morning hours was what the castle needed in addition to the chandelier. The intense light dimmed down, Spike now finding himself standing atop the dew-soaked grass. The individual drops all twinkled like stars, Spike's eyes glowing in unison. Even for somepony who wasn't fond of nature, it was the perfect day to be outside.
Though such a shining landscape did tickle the back of Spike's mind, it all seemed rather familiar to him, feeling as though he had jogged back in time. However, where such a scene unfolded before him the last time eluded his mind, the curiosity pounding on his forehead until it ached. At least the comic books would serve as a suitable distraction.
It only took Spike a few steps until he found himself wedged in between crowd of ponies, all meandering about and twisting their heads from left to right. Many of them had their eyes glued to the castle which, while standing for only a mere month, still commanded attention like a pony covered in gold who was juggling knives. The added attention was welcome to Spike, though he couldn't help but grind his teeth at times when a little peace, quiet, and privacy were needed.
Squirming through the waves of ponies, Spike raised his head and peeked above some of the ponies' backs, his eyes darting around and scanning for any signs of the store he yearned to find. However, Spike couldn't even let out a sigh at some of the signs he studied. Quills and Sofas, Salad Paradise, Ponyville Spa, Antique Treasures, and so on were all he noticed.
And with him only able to tiptoe forward and to the side or, in some cases, ride along the endless current of trotting ponies pushing him along, his destination would take eons to reach. Such a rate would be on a good day with Spike traveling at a pace a snail would call too sluggish.
Minutes passed, a yawn escaping Spike's mouth. He wanted to just curl up and sleep, but doing so was out of the question. Comics awaited his arrival and called for him, not to mention sleeping where he was would end with receiving a couple of hoofprints all over his face. Spike cringed at the thought, neither result something he'd want.
Poking his head out of the colorful miasma, Spike noticed a small building. The structure looked like any other house in Ponyville, a timber-framed cottage with a thatched roof, only it wore the label Ponyville Hobby Shop. The line of ponies going through the entrance and wrapping around part of the building like a serpent, however, was anything but typical.
Spike's heart skipped a beat; his eyes wide open once more. "Finally!" he shouted. Crawling through the cluster, brushing shoulders along the way, Spike found himself only a few meters away from the store. With a skip in his step, he approached the store and made his way toward the front door.
"Time to get—"
A small, gray foreleg adorned with a brown boot extended before Spike. The foreleg's owner wore a purple coat with the hood up. Spike froze in place, crossing his arms as his head rose up toward the sky. Not a cloud was in sight, nor were there any distant, black and gray ones hiding beyond the horizon. Spike couldn't help but feel a tad thirsty as well, his mouth dry and a warmness filling the air.
"Um, why are you wearing a cloak?" Spike asked. He lowered his head and gazed at the figure. "You know the weather isn't cold, right? Or are you making a fashion statement?"
"I have my reasons," the figure replied, her tone feminine and a little high-pitched. "If my friend found out, she'd call me a dweeb and a nerd. I don't want to risk her abandoning me, but great graphic novels are worth the risk to me."
Spike raised his left eyebrow. "That's—a little extreme. Are you sure you're not blowing this out of proportion?"
"Not when my best friend is Dia—I mean—well—a pony who wants me to be the coolest and cutest I can be."
"Wait." Spike raised his hands up to his chest, his lips pursed. A nagging sensation informed him he knew this filly, the luxurious boots she donned standing out. Rarity dressed with grace, though she always displayed beauty even while snoring, but other than her, most ponies in Ponyville were more modest about what they wore.
"Please don't tell anypony I'm here." The figure paused, taking a deep breath. "Or that I adore things like this."
Spike leaned over, glancing at the filly's face. All he could make out was the bright glint in her glasses, but the rest was shrouded in shadows. "Well, I'll promise."
"And can you stand at the back of the line, please?" The figure placed her hoof back down. "The ponies in front and I have been here for around ten minutes."
Spike cocked his head a little, the polite request catching him off guard. "Um, okay, but I was—"
"We're all trying to get comics. Please be a bit patient so that anypony who got here earlier can get their comics." The filly paused. "Understood?"
Spike nodded, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. "Understood."
Trudging alongside the row of ponies, Spike counted the line's length, extending a finger for each one. The number grew as he waddled around the left side of the building, his throat tightening. Running out of fingers, he stopped counting and trudged along, his throat tightening as the line continued on and on. Time spent doing nothing could be better served for more important tasks, like reading comics or even doing chores.
Taking his place at the back of the line, at least twenty ponies in front of him just outside, Spike pressed his weight against the small building. With a loud yawn, he stretched his arms out. His eyes drooped somewhat and were a little bloodshot as well. Perhaps the idea of going to bed late at night, then getting up early was something he'd have to tweak a little. Then again, staying up late was what he considered signs of maturity.
After a minute passed, the line moved two steps forward. Spike swiveled his head to the right, more of the town's populace departing their homes with waves and smiles. Three fillies galloped across the field, giggling as they bounced a ball back and forth while two older mares watched with smiles across their faces. A glowing, bright, and yellow orb rose over the horizon as it peeked above a distant mountain as though it were climbing it.
The line moved further along, Spike's yawns occurring at a more frequent rate. Twiddling his fingers, he then tapped his foot on the grass. "Come on," he muttered. "Faster."
Another two minutes passed until Spike was able to take even a step forward, now finding himself rounding the shop's corner as its length grew from behind where he stood. A tan unicorn in front of Spike rolled his shoulders, then trotted off with half-open eyes. Examining the unicorn's visage for a moment, Spike saw his lips moving about, though what left them was only silence from where he stood. Watching the unicorn trot further away from the shop, Spike took a long step forward. He focused for a few more seconds, limbs tightening on the off-chance he'd return.
However, the unicorn entered a different shop, a glowing grin adorning Spike's face. Turning back ahead, a white pegasus mare with a fluffy, blue mane now stood in front of Spike. Her body had a smooth, streamlined build perfect for cutting through the air, part of it covered by a blue shirt. Her wings, despite being folded up and still, oozed the sensation of speed. Spike wondered how fast she could fly, imagining the cold wind blowing across his face, teeth gritted. Looking down from high above also had to be a perk of flying, something he'd only experienced twice while on Twilight's back. At least those two moments were memorable.
And something about the mare in front of him was familiar as well. Spike's mind itched, his gaze glued to the back of her head. The mane was the most recognizable feature, looking like a softer, quieter, dark-blue version of Pinkie Pie's.
Then there was the shirt itself, the pockets and glinting badges having to signal her as being a member of the Wonderbolts. It looked nice and would blend in with the Grand Galloping Gala's typical crowd, but it felt rather out of place when lining up for comics. Still, he figured it wasn't as odd as encountering a filly covered in a dark cloak. Or perhaps he'd have to talk to Rarity about fashion trends once more, something even he'd find a little dull at times.
Nevertheless, Spike was inches away from deciphering the mare's identity, but felt miles away as well.
"Who is she?" Spike whispered. "Why is she so—familiar?"
"What was that?" the mare asked, her tone soft.
"Nothing," Spike said without hesitating, his limbs tightening. A small image reached the top of his mind, albeit a hazy one. He envisioned the mare charging at her, hearing a bloodcurdling shriek within his brain as everything turned pitch black. There was now little doubt inside Spike regarding how he knew her. "Nothing at all." He knew his past with her was brief, but grim enough to turn his face a little pale. "I'm just talking to myself."
"That's okay! I sometimes do that as well, as do many ponies I know." The mare paused. "So, what brings you here?"
"Comics, obviously." Spike raised his brow. The mare was at least enthusiastic, but such a quality wasn't what nudged his mind from before. "Personally, I was going to ask you the same question." He took a deep breath. "Given that you're—well—a Wonderbolt."
"Well, Captain Spitfire loves reading renowned books and comics to pass the time, but she's quite busy today. Anyway, she's quite the bookworm in private." The mare chuckled. "It's something not a lot of ponies see or know about her."
Spike giggled for a second, his cheeks flushing a little. "I know somepony like that. Say, what's your name?" The tension in Spike's muscles loosened, a thought of misremembering crossing his mind. "You're quite the friendly mare."
"Aw, thanks. Anyway, my name is High Winds." She paused, then turned around. "What's your—" High Winds gulped, her eyes locked onto Spike's "—name?"
With a sunken heart, Spike's limbs froze. He wondered if the worst was yet to come. "Spike."
"S-Spike?"
Lowering his head, a cold sigh escaped Spike's lips. I guess she does remember. And here I was expecting to have a good day.
"Well then, t-this wasn't w-what I expected," High Winds murmured, her body shivering. With widened eyes, she glanced back at the ponies in front of her, taking a few steps back once there was ample room. "Please don't grow big again. Please."
Spike raised his head back up, his shoulders sagging as though cinder blocks tugged at his arms. He never wanted to hurt High Winds or anypony he came across. Even if a few ponies might have rubbed him the wrong way, not once did a thought of humiliating or harming them in some way cross his mind, at least in his normal state. Spike's stomach churned and tightened, and as he peeked behind where High Winds stood, his eyes caught the rusted top of the water tower looming above the town. It was the same water tower he used to try and kill her, only now it may as well be piercing his chest.
An apology isn't going to work here. Spike crossed his arms, lips puckered into a frown. I mean, how could I apologize for almost killing somepony because of—greed or something? That somehow makes it sound even more vile. Rubbing his forehead, Spike felt a cold sweat pour down his cheeks. Maybe I just need to be friendly. Blinking, his eyes then brightened up, the frown his face wore twisting into the faintest of smiles. That's it.
"High Winds, I have a question," Spike blurted out, his unblinking gaze locked onto her. "Why are you wearing that baggy looking uniform when you're just picking up some comics?" Spike opened his arms wide, brow raised. "Doesn't it get warm with that thing on?"
With a brief chuckle, High Winds lips curled into the faintest of smiles, though her strained cheeks told Spike the lack of truth behind it. At least it was something as opposed to a frown or no reaction. High Winds then crossed her legs, putting her weight on the store's wall.
High Winds took a deep breath, then another one. "Well, I am technically still on duty," she answered. "When I'm called into action, I swap this for the Wonderbolts flight uniform. That's a tight fit, but it's quite comfortable once you get used to it." She adjusted the sleeves of her dress uniform. "This one here is also nice to wear. Sometimes, you have to fix up the sleeves, but it's just fine after that's taken care of."
Spike nodded. "I see," he replied. "I guess it's part of the job, right?"
"Yeah, but it isn't irritating or anything."
"So then—well—maybe I can go get the comics later," High Winds said, sliding her hooves a few inches to the left. "You can take my—"
Spike raised his hand up, a jolt coursing through his veins. "Wait, don't go just yet," he said. "I want to ask a few more questions."
Freezing in place, High Winds took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm still here."
"Good." Spike blinked; surprised his words were even able to reach High Winds' ears. "Now then, I won't eat you or embarrass you."
"Promise?"
With a quick nod, Spike's bright smile widened a little. "Promise." He extended his claw out, a jolt coursing through his arm. "I promise I won't do anything bad like that."
Twilight was strict with how much of anything he could have, and for good reason with all of this coming back to haunt him. Staring into High Winds' dilated pupils, Spike noticed she also knew the truth behind his words. A peculiar glow within her violet eyes opened her mind like a book, the reasoning behind this on the tip of Spike's tongue. He knew there was some reason why he'd assume High Winds to feel this way, but he only drew blanks. Regardless, a fraction of the weight he carried broke off, his shoulders perking up a little.
High Winds brought her foreleg toward Spike, his heart beating louder as it approached him. Silence filled the air. Spike's cheeks turned a pale green, now wishing everything could be solved right there.
How does Twilight make it look so easy? Spike bit his lip, digging his feet into the rough soil. Fleeing himself was out of the option. I hope she accepts.
With a soft sigh, High Winds retracted her foreleg to her chest. Her eyes shimmered, now on the verge of tears. "I-I'm sorry," she muttered. "I need to think about it."
A cold sweat poured down Spike's forehead. If High Winds wasn't going to accept now, he knew it would only ever arrive in dreams or in paintings his imagination concocted. After all, Spike knew she wouldn't accept any sort of apology or promise from him at this point given the circumstances, the realization driving a stake through him. He could sense his chest twanging, his vision blurred as he tried to fight back tears of his own.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Spike whispered to himself. The preparation only served to tighten his throat further. "I still promise I won't hurt you again." His mind could paint High Winds trotting off and leaping into the sky with clarity, not missing a single point. He knew this image would appear before him.
"Sorry, but I have to go," High Winds mumbled, a sigh escaping her lips. With twitching wings, she soon became airborne and hovered in the air, Spike's eyes still glued to her. "I have some things I need to do."
Before Spike could utter another word, High Winds glided away from the store. He squinted at her as she flew toward the mountains Canterlot perched on like an eagle, High Winds becoming a speck in the sky from where he stood mere seconds later. A brief, weak wave of the hand was all Spike could muster.
Placing his shoulder on the shop's wall, Spike's mind raced about until it turned to sludge. There was just something about High Winds' visage which hinted she knew her fear held her back. Such an instance had to be the case, but a tight doubt in his heart still lingered.
What a mess.
Spike knew the chances of him meeting High Winds again were approaching zero, falling further down as each second passed by. Still, there was one method he had yet to try, one which could deliver his words to the Wonderbolt. The thought brought clarity back to his vision.
He'd just need a royal influence to make it happen.
Spike nudged his shoulder against the cold, smooth door to Twilight's castle, rolled up comics in hand and head hung low. Not even the door's thunderous shriek as it opened up fazed him. Stepping inside the dark hallways fit for a queen of crystals, he closed the door shut and trudged forward. There was no doubt in his mind as to the events waiting for him. Twilight would notice his slumped posture and glum frown, then ask if a comic he wanted wasn't in stock or something. The script was in front of him from here on, but where it would go was up to him.
Spike could tell the truth and admit he should have done a better jobs at making amends, or he could just roll with the lie and go from there. The question plaguing him was if he did decide to lie, how long it would take for Twilight to finish the puzzle. Such an outcome was inevitable. As he gazed into the mirror-like floor, its chill coursing up his legs, Spike's eyes widened as they locked with his splitting image, now a colossus with fangs powerful enough to chew metal like candy.
"I guess it'd take her no time at all," Spike mumbled. He rubbed his eyes, the reflection in the floor metamorphosing into his usual state. With gritted teeth, Spike stomped over the floor as he trekked along. "Why do I always get into these messes?" He froze in place, taking a deep breath as his legs loosened. "Maybe I'm asking for it in a way. Maybe it's what they call karma." Crossing his arms, Spike resumed walking. "Maybe my bad luck is because of what I did that day."
"Spike!" Twilight's voice called out, its echo filling the castle's halls. "Is that you?"
"It is, Twi!" Spike hollered back. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well, Spike. How about you?"
Spike sulked, taking a deep breath. "If you don't count feeling like fate has sucker punched you in the gut—" Spike clenched his stomach "—I'm doing wonderfully."
A door to Spike's right opened up, a slight breeze brushing past his face. Jumping away from the door as it approached him, Spike fell on his bottom and chuckled. At least it didn't end with him being pancaked between a door and a crystal wall. Just thinking about it formed slight aches all over his body.
Pushing himself up, Spike locked gazes with the mare on the other side, Princess Twilight Sparkle. A warm smile adorned her face, wings folded and her mane looking smoother than silk. Even Spike had to admit she displayed cuteness with her wide, glowing eyes and firm posture.
"What's the matter, Spike?" Twilight asked, her tone soft and motherly. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a glum visage. "Did something bad happen while you were out?"
Spike gulped. "It's about something bad I did a while ago."
Twilight cocked her head, left eyebrow raised. "Something bad?"
With sagging shoulders, Spike let out a deep sigh. Memories of greed and destruction plagued his mind, his heart twinging and sinking as though it were trying to escape. "Remember when I was—well—big?"
Twilight placed a hoof to her muzzle, then nodded. "I think I get it now. You met somepony who remembered that day and is afraid of you, but you weren't able to make amends, right?"
Spike's brow shot up, his mouth agape. "How did you know?"
Giggling, Twilight trotted a few inches closer to Spike. Kneeling down, she wrapped her foreleg around his body in a warm embrace, her hoof rubbing against his backside as some of the tension within Spike's muscles dissipated. "I just figured that was the case. I'd feel upset if I was in your position. Anyway, do you know who was still scared of you?"
"High Winds."
"One of the Wonderbolts?"
Spike nodded. "Yep, but how did you know that?"
"Well, I do know about their history, Spike. Remember the time I tried to teach Rainbow Dash?" Twilight chuckled, raising her hoof to her lips for a moment.
"I do." Images of note cards swirling around Twilight like a carousel filled Spike's mind. "You sure knew a lot about them." He couldn't forget about Rainbow's little dance on the stool as well, the clear, delightful memory easing the tension within Spike. "So then, I'm guessing you know why—" Spike paused, then rubbed his forehead. "—I think you saw what happened that day, right?"
"The day you almost killed her, Blaze, and Surprise, right?"
Grimacing, Spike nodded once more. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about."
Twilight stared into Spike's eyes, her expression now a glum frown. "Well, you did lose control of your senses that day, right?"
"That's correct."
Shutting his eyes, Spike dug within his brain's crevices, searching for any scrap of a clear memory when he was in his colossal state. There was the hat Cheerilee gave him, as well as when he encountered Lickety Split. Everything after those incidents was a mere blur, only small snippets recognizable. It was like trying to look at a photo album; only all of the pictures had static tearing through them until only the most basic details remained. Spike sensed his head aching, trying to solve the puzzle before him, but there wasn't much to work with, just the most basic of images and testimonies after the fact.
"Did you remember something, Spike?" Twilight asked, her hoof on her chest.
Spike shook his head. "Not much." A sigh left his lips. "I remember what I did to High Winds and her friends. I even remember the destruction I left in my wake." He sat down, the castle's floor sending a chill down his spine, and then lowered his head. "I don't remember why I did it, how I did it, and so on. I just remember the basic info and a few things before my—um—growth spurt."
"I think I get it now." Twilight massaged her muzzle, her eyes pointed upward. "Hmm. Maybe there's a small chance things can work out between the two of you."
Spike's heart skipped a beat. Bouncing up in the air from where he sat, Spike landed on both feet and leaned toward Twilight, hands clasped together and eyes glowing. "Really?" His voice cracked, a radiant grin adorning his face. "You really mean it?"
"I can't promise, but it could happen."
Straightening himself out, Spike took a small step back to give Twilight more breathing space, his grin replaced with a blank stare. "Oh." A faint snicker left his mouth, his cheeks glowing a hot pink. "Well, at least it's not the worst possible thing, right?"
"I guess so."
"But how am I going to see High Winds again?" Spike raised his arms up, pupils dilated. "I mean, who knows where she'll be, let alone be approachable. Heck, she might even run away if we see each other again." He sighed. "Well, maybe you could set up something like a letter so that I could apologize and explain myself."
Twilight cocked her head, brow raised. "What makes you say that?"
"When I explained to her what happened, I could tell she knew I wasn't the monster she thinks I am. I just know it." Spike locked eyes with Twilight. "The look in her eyes told me everything!"
With a flick of her horn, a unfurled scroll and quill materialized before Twilight. Both items hovered with a raspberry-colored aura surrounding them, Spike's eyes drawn to them. However, his nerves all twitched together, the sensation like thorns pricking his whole body. At least he could breathe enough to stay upright, but something still poked at him as he watched Twilight write.
"Y-you're seriously not going to do what I think you are," Spike muttered. His face turned pale, lips pursed. "You're just joking, right?"
Twilight shook her head, a stern expression painted on her. "I'm sending a letter off to Captain Spitfire." She scribbled the ink-soaked quill across the page. "I'm going to arrange a meeting with you and High Winds at the castle. I'll also be dropping by Wonderbolts Academy to talk it over with them if I need to." Twilight rolled up the scroll and, with an even brighter aura surrounding her horn, the message vanished into thin air, all traces of it gone. "I bet if you two talk it over in a safe, private environment, all will end well."
"But why don't you do it for me?" Spike's teeth chattered. "You're the Princess of Friendship, so how come you can't do a friendship speech to solve everything."
"Spike, this is something you—and only you—can do."
Spike groaned, the thumping of his heart echoing into his ears. "This can't end well."
Reclining on the glimmering, crystalline throne in the central room, Spike tapped the tips of his fingers against it. The smooth surface felt more like an iceberg's surface than anything resembling a chair, Spike almost certain he'd get frostbite at the end of the day. Then again, as an eerie silence filled the air and twisted his heart into a knot, frostbite was the least of his worries.
Any minute now, Twilight would trot down the hallway with High Winds behind her, the latter either smiling with a skip in her step or, if she knew why she was called, would be hiding behind Twilight and using her as some sort of guardian. If Spitfire was to show up, and Spike knew her appearance was possible given her respect for Twilight, his ears would ache soon enough.
Nevertheless, it was High Winds' appearance Spike dreaded the most. As he counted down each passing second, breath held, the room became darker. Spike's teeth chattered, now finding himself curious if they would chip off his gums soon enough.
"What's taking Twi so long?" Spike murmured. He sprung off the throne and waddled across the floor. "Is she discussing books with Spitfire or something? I just want this to be fast and over with. That's all."
A distant creak split the air, its noise harsh, yet somehow quiet at the same time. Spike's heart lodged into his throat, three winged silhouettes approaching him. The silhouette in the middle was slightly taller than the other two, her horn adding to her height, but the two beside her had smoother and fitter looking bodies. One had a smooth, tall mane while the other had a familiar, puffy mane. Spike blinked, his mind soon connecting the dots.
"Yep. Twilight Sparkle brought High Winds and Spitfire," Spike whispered. "Then again, what does Spitfire have to do with this? It was only High Winds, Blaze, and Surprise I hurt that day." Spike crossed his arms, his foot tapping against the floor. "Unless—she's in the same boat Twilight is in trying to fix things?"
The silhouettes revealed their colors. Sure enough, Twilight was in the middle, with Spitfire to the left and High Winds to the right. Both Twilight and Spitfire wore stern expressions, their lips pursed, while High Winds' had a seemingly emotionless visage at first. However, Spike then noticed a slight, red irritation in her eyes as she approached him. Perhaps she was crying about something or she talked about it with the other two. All Spike could do was hypothesize for a tense few seconds.
"Hello, Spike," Spitfire said, her tone relaxed and soft. Spike took a step back, caught off guard by the lack of shouting. "How are you today?"
"I've been—well—better," Spike replied, twiddling his fingers. "A little nervous, to be honest." He paused, pupils dilated. "Okay, I'm incredibly nervous. Why do you ask?"
Spitfire trotted closer to Spike, her lips curled into a faint smile. "I wanted to make sure you're okay." She placed a hoof to her chest. "I know how tense it must feel for you. High Winds feels the same way."
"I sure do," High Winds confirmed. "Still, I—um—I'm ready to talk when you are, S-Spike."
"It'll be okay, everypony." Spitfire took a deep breath. "I promise everything will be okay, but if you need to talk to Princess Twilight or I, feel free to do so. We won't mind."
"Spitfire brings up a good point," Twilight said, shuffling her hooves closer to her. "Anyway, we'll be in the adjacent room doing some work, so I guess we'll leave both of you to it."
Spike nodded. He moved his lips, though not a word left them.
"Are you sure you're ready, Spike?"
Nodding once more, Spike cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said. "I've never been more ready in my life!"
"That's good." A warm smile formed across Twilight's face. "Anyway, we'll see you soon enough."
"I hope it all goes well," Spitfire said, waving her hoof.
"Same here," High Winds muttered, then biting her lip for a brief second.
Twilight opened the door to Spike's left, her and Spitfire trotting in. A thump permeated in the air, the door now closed shut. For some reason, Spike noticed the growing tension and the tingling sensations within him having a peculiar touch to it. Not too long ago, it was High Winds who wanted to flee while Spike tried to coerce her to stay. Now, with High Winds before him, the former sitting on the edge of her seat while pressing her hooves together, the same tension came to fill Spike.
"So then, how should we begin?" Spike asked without a second thought, avoiding eye contact. He winced a little, the answer coming to him in a flash. "Oh, right." He paused, twiddling his fingers faster than ever. "I'm sorry for what happened that one time. I lost all sense of reason that day." Rubbing his forehead, Spike scanned his mind's memory banks, only to come up with the same hazy images as before. "I barely remember any of that day, to be honest. I only recall small snippets. You understand, right?"
High Winds nodded. "I do. I can see that you're a different dragon now."
Raising his head up, Spike locked gazes with High Winds. His heart skipped a beat, an electric sensation coursing through him. "You do?" His deep frown curled upward into a slight smile. It wasn't much, but at least Spike sensed the flicker of warmth returning to him.
"Of course I do." High Winds' body slumped a little, then pushed herself to the chair's back. "It's just—well—I was kind of surprised when I first saw you earlier today."
A faint snicker left Spike's lips. "Yeah, I was a little surprised as well." His cheeks flushed. "And I'm a bit surprised to see you here as well."
"Same here."
"Also, I have a quick question."
High Winds' posture perked up, brow raised. "What is it?"
"How come you're much calmer seeing me now than when we met at the shop?"
Chuckling, High Winds' lips formed a soft grin. "Well, I think Princess Twilight and Captain Spitfire might be why. They talked to me about what happened today and back when we—well—you know."
Spike rubbed his chin for a second. "Hmm. Then were those irritated eyes you had upon arriving—"
"Crying?"
"Yeah, that. I understand if you had to shed a few tears." Spike moved his hands to the side. "I've done that before."
High Winds' shoulders drooped once more, her head lowered. "Yep. I'll admit I cried."
Spike's mouth remained shut, not a single word leaving it. There were a number of questions he could come up with regarding the scene, but the ache in his chest had other plans. Pursing the answers, as far as Spike knew, wasn't worth the risk of ruining the conversation.
Then what do I ask next?
"I have a question for you, Spike?" High Winds asked out of the blue.
With twitching ears, Spike leaned forward, eyes glued to her. "Um—yes?"
"What's it like to be you?"
Spike cocked his head to the left, a bemused expression painted on him. "What do you mean?"
"Perhaps I should—um—elaborate." High Winds took a deep breath. "I mean, what's it like being the assistant to a princess? What's it like being a hero? How does it feel to be you?"
Spike froze in place, his brain chugging away until his body thawed. Clearing his throat, words and images popped up before Spike like twinkling stars. "For starters, I adore being Twi's assistant. Sure the jobs are tough at times—" Spike shuddered, his nostrils flaring up as memories of chimney cleaning dominated the other images. "—and they can take a while, but they can also be fun and important. I mean, the few times I've had to stay behind while Twi and her friends went off to do something resulted in some great memories."
"You don't get a little lonely while being by yourself?"
Spike shook his head. "Not at all. I can easily call some friends over to hang out with if I have no chores to do. Also, some peace and quiet is always nice, not to mention Twi and company sometimes find themselves in some scary situations. Not as fun and exciting as it seems, you know."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." High Winds paused for a second. "Being a Wonderbolt is almost always fun, but some parts of it are rough, especially having to deal with the more cynical ponies."
"More cynical ponies?" Spike blinked, the realization hitting him like a shovel to the face. "I-I'm sorry if my actions that day were involved."
"It's okay." High Winds looked down, then back to Spike. "It's just not easy when your failures are given much more attention than your successes."
"I know that all too well. Some bullies treat me like that at times."
Placing a hoof to her chest, High Winds exhaled. "It hurts, doesn't it? It's especially painful when you see how hurt your friends are from such words."
Nodding, a warm, soft sensation covered Spike. The blanket-like feeling tugged at his heartstrings, trying to snap them in two. "It does hurt."
High Winds rose up from her seat, her smile widening into a beaming grin brighter than the sun. "I-I get it now."
"What is it?"
"Spike, I accept your apology." High Winds placed a hoof to her chest. "You're a good dragon, and when you do grow up naturally, I hope your heart continues to follow you."
"Thank you." Spike's chest tingled, the feeling spreading throughout the rest of his body seconds later. Thrusting himself off of the chair, he landed on both feet and walked up to High Winds. "Also, I admire your bravery. It's not easy for a pony to come back the same day and talk it over."
"You're welcome." Pointing toward the left door with her hoof, High Winds chuckled. "But I did have some help, you know. I couldn't have done it without them."
The door opened up, Twilight and Spitfire trotting out wearing grins and staring at Spike for a moment, then at High Winds. For some reason, Spike couldn't help but wonder if they heard his entire conversation. Then again, he knew Twilight wasn't the snooping type—most of the time.
"How was it, Spike?" Twilight asked, her tone chipper.
"It went well," Spike replied. "We've made amends for what happened that day."
"We have," High Winds confirmed. "Spike's dilemma made sense to me now that I think about it."
Spitfire made her way toward High Winds, wrapping a foreleg around her back. "Well, I'm glad it all worked out in the end," she said. "See, I knew you could do it."
"Thanks for having faith in me."
"A Wonderbolt never leaves a comrade behind, and I'd never leave you behind. That's a promise I'm going to make sure I keep."
Spike walked up to Twilight and, wrapping his arms around her foreleg, locked eyes with her. "Thanks for helping as well, Twi."
"You're welcome, Spike," Twilight responded. Her smile's warmth was palpable, Spike giving her a second, tighter hug. "I'm always here to support you if you need it." Twilight brought her attention to the two Wonderbolts before her. "Anything else I can do for you?"
Spitfire and High Winds gazed at each other for two seconds, then shook their heads in unison. "I think we're good," High Winds said. "Feel free to see us at a show or drop by for a visit."
"Can do," Spike said, his head bobbing. Raising his arm out, he then waved at the pair. "Take care!"
"Goodbye, Spike!" Spitfire and High Winds shouted together, their hooves waving.
Spike continued to wave until the pair of Wonderbolts departed the castle. A single thought rose to the top of his head, dominating everything else swirling in his mind.
Today was awesome, even more so than I expected.
