To whom it may concern,
My name is Spike, and I have been directed to you for help in answering some questions about dragons. I was hatched and have been raised among ponies, so I lack a great deal of information about dragons, especially because there are very few resources here to use for research. If you are willing to help me in this research, I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to send a letter back to me containing information on how to contact you directly, instead of requiring Princess Celestia to ensure the letter gets to you.
Thank you,
Spike the Dragon
"Well Spike, this does certainly look professional enough. I can't vouch for what this dragon will have to say, but if it were me, this would definitely convince me to respond," said Twilight, casting an approving glance over the neatly scribed piece of parchment.
"I dunno Twi," said Spike, expressing his doubt as to the efficacy of the simple, formal letter. "I mean, of course you'd respond, you respond to every letter you get. Even the prank ones. But this guy's supposed to be this big, important dragon. He probably gets more letters in a day than we get in a month."
Twilight looked aghast at Spike, "Are you saying that I'm not important? I am the Princess of Friendship. Ponies come from all over to ask for my help."
"You know what I mean, Twi." said Spike, a put upon look crossing his face. Twilight had dealt with esteem issues about her role as royalty, but apparently today was a day to resurrect long dead issues. "I know you're important, and so do all of the ponies we know, but dragons aren't really known to be generous. Maybe Celestia was wrong. Maybe I should just try to find a book that has the answers I need."
Twilight, torn between pride that Spike put so much faith in the wisdom of books and indigance that he would doubt her mentor, settled for a comforting pat on the head. "I'm sure we'll find somedragon out there who is willing to help. I mean, there's really no reason not to send a simple letter. The worst they can do is not respond."
With a sigh, Spike seemed to sag, the tension of an internal debate leaving of him. With a smile, he lifted himself out of the chair had written the letter from, agreeing with Twilight. "I suppose you're right. No time like the present to get this over with." He took the letter, rolled it and sealed it with a purple ribbon, then incinerated it, watching the glittering smoke fade into the distance towards Canterlot.
Minutes later, before Spike even had a chance to worry about the reception his letter would receive, a response flowed in through the window, into his snout, and a gout of fire drawn from his gullet formed into a scroll, sealed with the wax of Princess Celestia.
My dear Spike,
I have sent your letter on to it's intended destination (without reading it, of course). I know you must be feeling nervous about the response it may garner, or lack thereof, but I assure you that the receiving party will be very interested in hearing more about you and answering any questions you may have about him, yourself, or dragons in general. He will deny it, but he really is soft at heart, and loves nothing more than to help out young ones, dragon and pony alike. He is very busy, though, and very old, so I must entreat you to be patient. There may be some time before his schedule is clear enough for him to devote his full attention to your letter.
Remember, too, that this is a conversation. You will have many letters to share with him, and he will have much to say. Relax, and do not fret overmuch on the contents of your letters. If you find yourself becoming stressed, do Twilight's funny little breathing exercise. It has always seemed to help her.
With much love,
Celestia
