The Blue Rose

Chapters

Canto III
Canto IV
Canto V
Canto VI
Canto VII
Canto VIII
Canto IX
Canto X
Canto I
Canto II

Canto III

By some form or other of a magical might,
The Great-Hero Thorn walked across the sky.
Here he was, at an overwhelming height,
To fight with dragons. The battle was nigh!
By his side was Tânadain. He won by rite
Of passage, by using a verbal method so sly.
The dragon-warriors completely had his back.
If help he needed, they would take up the slack.

Not one pony stood in front of the foal–
Truly none; all the Pegasi were in hiding!
This left little between him and the goal
Of diverting Cloudsdale– with little fighting,
He thought– yea, that was to be his dole.
With the flower by his side, few a betiding
Threaten to fail the war. And maybe even
The pegasi will help. Then they’ll leave them!

So as to make his way across Cloudsdale,
Across the weatherclouds Thorn had to hop.
Hop– like a coney’s bop– He dared not to fail
And fall off– then his own life he might drop!
Understandable at this height he’d show quail.
He was no pegasus– But he shouldn’t stop
Because of this petty reason. He took a breath,
Backed up and lept– seemingly to his death!

But nay! He instead landed firmly further
Onto the next cloud. It indeed was close!
The job was made easier by a lack of armor.
He landed here, there– on surfaces so rimose.
He didn’t slip, not at all. But, if he were,
The dragons would abandon their bellicose
Attitude, and swoop down to retrieve him
Before he plunged through the fog-scrim.

One hop further, then two and three,
Then he landed on a firm cloud, with little air.
After Thorn wore out his legs like a flea,
He found himself within the central square!
He looked around to find a means to free
Cloudsdale from her chains. But she was bare.
The foal sensed that there was set an ambush.
’Twouldn’t be long before they would debouch.

Then a port’s maw gaped! Afore Thorn acted,
Six Cloudsdale guards had surrounded the colt.
Said their Captain, “Your spot is jacketed!
There’s nowhere for you to run, you can’t bolt!”
“Aye! This is true!” So one guard added.
Thorn replied, causing in the guards a jolt:
“It would be unwise to attack me, nay dense–
Else your doom and destruction will be hence!”

This elict’d a retort from the commander:
“Do you aid this foal? Is this true?”
“It is,” said one, “if you’d just take a gander.
He was on my back when here we flew.
If Thorn is lost to us, then you will be no victor;
Your fate will be sealed through and through.”
“Kill Thorn,” another warned, “and wyrmfire
Will render your dear Cloudsdale a pyre.”

Halberds lifted up, thus clearing the way.
“What troubles you?” asked Thorn. “Tell me!”
“’Tis the Windigos’ Coven, I say–
Gust, Gale, Hail, and Frost, they told me!
On arrival, Cloudsdale’s anchors they did fray,
Took control of the Factory, despite our plea!
They threatened to tear Cloudsdale to rubble–
Please! –Help us! –We desire no trouble!”

“What motivates their takeover,” he pressed,
“And then their exodus to Dragon-Lands?”
The Captain, when asked, looked too distressed
To answer– xenophobia set in over the sands.
Finally he said, “To the Sisters, this is a quest
To lay all in snow, and to make badlands
Of others’ territory. However, we respect
That you drakes have a realm to protect.”

“Let us aid one another in repelling
This pestilence,” one dragon proposed.
“Then afterwards, may you aid in propelling
Cloudsdale back home?” the Captain supposed.
“We will. But for now, let us start felling
the fœ– now that we find you quite disposed.”
“Let us expel Gust, Gale, Hail, and Frost
From Cloudsdale– aye, and at any cost!”

“Where’s the Factory now?” Thorn then asked.
With a hoof, the Captain pointed yonder.
With this in sight and mind, Thorn was tasked
To find the Coven and bring to them war
He planned to sneak in, his presence masked,
And then shove them right out o’ the door!.
He took the shortest path marked by a sign,
To interrupt operations clandestine.

He came to threshold, then elsewhere–
They’d expect that entry, ’twas too obvious.
He spotted a venting right there
Would be most suitable. Its width impassible
For large objects– Thorn could easily fare
Through that labyrinth he would scramble–
Turns and outlets, then kick out a grate,
Draw his Tânadain, and seal their fate!

The screws were turned easily, sans tool,
The grate came right off, allowing easy access.
Even with his things, packed tight as a spool,
Would he still fit? Fate answered with a yes,
He’d fit– O Fate, she had not been so cruel
To him, to Thorn, as one could clearly guess.
Without a single thing less, Thorn crawled in
The tunnel, to travel towards the threat within.

The demense of the vent was quite dusty,
Nearly making Thorn cough and wheeze.
The air of the Factory was acrid and musty,
With the breath of snow and ice in the breeze.
Thorn spotted a grate that was rusty,
One he knew that he would be able with ease
To kick out, even for a foal like him–
Through the passageway was growing slim.

Thorn held his breath out, then crawled in.
Stepping stealthily, making way to the threat
Though this section of passage be thin,
He bravely crawled, so that he may be met
With the grate. Closing in, by his teeth’s skin,
He slipped past a corner, greased by his sweat.
A surprise awaited him after this next bend–
His intended route yielded a dead end!

Carefully, he started to slither in reverse.
He tried to remember the path, but merely
Backwards. He didn’t know what was worse:
To be punished by his Dragon-kin severely,
Or to make a wrong turn, and suffer the curse
Of the cold. In his thoughts, Thorn nearly
Missed a left-turn. Finally, he breathed in;
He had returned where the path did begin.

He glanced upwards, to another shaft–
Instead of crawling, he ought to climb!
Yea, that was it– frost-knit air did waft
From it, and the tunnel was coated with rime.
Thorn adjusted Tânadain’s haft,
Leapt up– slipped, but caught himself in time.
Now he climbed as high as he dared,
While the fangs of the snowstorm were bared.

The rime was not so merciful on the foal–
Relentlessly, it tried to loosen Thorn’s grip.
The air tried to pierce through to his soul,
To no avail– Thorn fought through the nip,
Not allowing the weather to take its toll
On him, forcing himself not to slip.
He soon reached the top of the passage.
The cold and ice did nothing to ravage.

The rest of the journey was easier so–
Through labyrinthine paths he did cross.
Here Thorn felt the currents blow to and fro,
As the Coven concocted their cold chaos.
He crossed the bridge– not too fast or slow.
He didn’t want to be noticed by their boss,
Frost, who would surely catch him blind–
Stuck here in a tunnel surely she would find!

Down another duct-chute the foal went–
Somehow in all this, he had made no sound,
Nor, at the bottom of the chute, left a dent.
Despite this, the Coven still had not found
Thorn– who by then neared the rusted vent.
“This grate has been worn loose,” he found.
He put an ear up to the grate to observe
The Coven tampering with the reserve.

Said eldest Frost, “Quiet now! Do you hear?
Something’s within the vents, I am sure!”
Said twin Gale, “Nay, to me they sound clear.
Don’t make every bump and thought a lure.”
Said twin Hail, “Still, what have we to fear?
We are nearly finished with leg of our tour!”
Said youngest Gust, “Nay, nay! Frost is right!
Something in the vent is to bring us a fight!”

“Are you certain of this?” then asked Frost.
“Aye, Frost– the threat is all too true!”
“Is it not some cloud-rat that has become lost?”
“No mammatus mús is so large!” she did argue.
Thorn watched this from afar, growing crossed,
His patience held steadfast– hitherto.
But before Thorn could react violently,
The blue Rose spoke up redolently:

“Hush, Thorn, and get out of their sight–
You musn’t give yourself away too soon,
Or else you may prove old Frost to be right!
With Cloudsdale at risk, a rough-hewn
Stratagem will bring your flaws to light!
Instead, wait for a moment more opportune.
Let complacence hold them in thrall–
Let their distraction be their pitfall!”

On and on, the Coven prattled more–
Their disagreement boiling over to hate,
When Gust caught whiff of a pony’s spoor.
“Sisters, hold your tongues! I say again, wait!”
But the other three decided this to ignore.
Such opportune point did quartet create!
The grate was then opened by Thorn’s clout.
With the way clear, the foal tumbled out.

All four turned to investigate the noise,
And found the foal there, glaring boldly.
The Sisters approached him with poise,
With a wind that blew past him coldly.
Such confidence! Thorn considered the ploys
They may be pulling– most manifoldly!
Their front hooves extended, where assembled
Four staffs of ice– the colt trembled!

Now was Tânadain’s first of many a moment!
Thorn drew the great sword out of its sheath.
Sparks and flames flew forth, to augment
Thorn’s weak strength, bearing its fiery teeth.
This caused the four their choice to lament
As Tânadain’s flames about did wreathe:
“What’s this? The foal had brought Tânadain?”
Fire and ice mix not; this sword was their bane.

The first Sister to attack was Hail,
Swinging hard with her staff of ice.
Second to enter the fight was Gail,
Who thrusted her staff– once– twice–
Frost and Gust allied the twins without fail,
But their striking was quite imprecise;
Thorn dodged it all, quick as can be,
Thus avoiding altogether the older three.

Gust’s next strike was blocked by a flame,
Tânadain’s blade, having saved Thorn’s life.
Gust struck and struck again in vain–
Thorn easily parried Gust’s feeble strife
Then a blow ’cross the face Thorn did feign,
Giving Gust perhaps an end, sure as knife–
She hoisted her staff, intending a swift finish.
But lo! Her Thorn’s next strike would diminish!

She fell to the floor, and the other three
Charged at him– four sisters, now a trio!
Hail’s staff-striking aimed for Thorn’s knee
To no avail– Tânadain’s fire burned with brio,
Stopping her. Hopping up like a flea,
Thorn returned their advances, as raging rio
Ah, but the Sisters were likewise quick,
But Thorn had with him yet another trick.

Tucked away in his bag was a sack
Of marbles, for whenever he played ringer;
A plethora of colors, from white to black,
Across the rainbow– Thorn did not linger.
He pulled them out and made his attack,
Casting them on the floor, which did fling her,
Frost, down to the ground, and out of sight.
He’d halved the Coven in the fight!

Appearing on Thorn’s left was sister Gale,
Staff poised, ready to strike down their fœ.
Likewise on Thorn’s left was sister Hail,
Who had rose from her blanket of snow..
Thorn’s face at this prospective turned pale–
His chance of survival was all too low.
Then Hail lunged forth, and Gale followed suit,
Aiming their staffs to pierce to Thorn’s root.

However, for them, Thorn was too small.
Naturally, this resulted in them crashing.
They then fell to the floor. That made them all
Subdued, subjugated, all weary, none thrashing.
Surprisingly, Thorn had survived the brawl
On the factory floor– off he went dashing,
Sheathing Tânadain, for now it was not needed–
All of his expectations the sword exceeded.

Whatever came next? Now ’twas to inert
Whatever machinery they had set in motion.
During that impossible fight, Thorn did exert
Himself– drained himself in the commotion.
The pegasi of Cloudsdale tended not to concert
Their equipment; they moved in slow motion,
Churning out snow and ice as well as rime
As though it could spend a great deal of time.

Thorn’s eyes along the pipes followed:
Up from the fresh-made ice and snow,
Where in the mix the pistons wallowed
Whatever material the belts had in tow.
Thorn glanced higher; hard he swallowed,
Finding the source from where it did flow;
Up near the ceiling, there he did observe
The Weather Factory’s water-reserve.

The reserve was connected by a single pipe,
Itself controlled by but a single gate,
Meant to be closed once the weather was ripe.
Thorn leapt up onto the machine to the gate,
Gripped the wheel, and with a mighty swipe,
He started to shut off the machine so great.
“Look out!” cried the Rose. Thorn turned to see
That the Coven had torn themselves free.

Again Tânadain was summoned to fight–
And not too early; Frost was upon Thorn!
Her staff sang out a crescendo of frostbite
Upon his face– which was nearly shorn!
Then, seeing something move to his right,
Thorn swung the firesword at a war-torn
Hail– knocking her back to the ground–
And him into the water– he nearly drowned!

Tânadain’s flames went out in the water.
Thorn sheathed it, and swam to the top.
Then Tânadain was again present, hotter
Than ever, and Thorn wielding again, atop
The reserve– to return to the slaughter!
The colt leapt up, and let himself drop
In front of Frost– fire and ice met anew.
Steam and mist from their arms flew!

Where he was blind, there struck Gust–
Hail was to his left; Gail was to his right.
With Frost in front, win they must!
Even the sword must yield to their might!
And yet, it wasn’t– He blocked every thrust,
Every attempt at winning this fight.
No matter when they struck, or where,
Something about him made this war unfair.

Via a broad swing, Thorn countered all four,
And then some– Tânadain stopped not there!
Even with the Coven on the floor,
The sword vaulted colt into the air!
Tânadain– the Firewing– and Thorn soared o’er
The Sisters– all they could do was stare!
What sort of earth pony they before met
Could challenge them and pose a grave threat?

Thorn landed behind Frost, then swung back–
Connecting a staff of ice– she was determined!
Hail assisted Frost with her sudden attack,
Gail, too, joined them– her force hardened!
Gust seemed inattentive, but there was no lack–
With her fourth staff, the forces seemed evened.
Now at last were they on the offensive–
All they needed was a force so intensive!

Neither Thorn nor Tânadain could resist–
With four against one, they had to recede!
No Dragon could come to assist;
A vow to protect them they had to concede!
Further back and back– the strength did insist;
But Thorn, for the Dragons, refused to accede.
Then he slipped on the marbles earlier thrown,
Sending him to the floor with a loud groan.

Gale, Hail, and Frost kept him pinned,
And Gust went to restart the machine.
A great roar of water, and a mass of wind–
Now to oversnow all that can be seen!
Before, Dragon-Lands was nearly done in,
But now, such progress was unforeseen!
Soon would end all that dragons had ken,
To become a world much frozen!

A great roar thundered from the roof,
First from knocking, then from a word:
“Thorn! Pony-Child! We bring reproof!
Why have the Sisters resumed going forward?
This plan you proposed should be foolproof!
How have you ruined it? You have us angered!
Defeat the Coven, however you must,
Before you might ultimately lose our trust!”

In a perfect imitation, Gust answered:
“Ah, yes! All gœs well in the Factory!
Whatever you’re saying sounds absurd!
Look down below at that warm scenery–
All that will remain, you have my word!”
Quickly, Frost pounded Thorn in the knee
Before he had a chance to rebut the liar.
The Dragon believed her and flew higher.

Whilst the Dragon relayed his finding,
Thorn’s eyes darted about the facility.
Even though he found his restraints binding,
He can still fight– with a bit of ingenuity.
Gale suspected of Thorn’s pathfinding,
Struck his face– to remind him of his futility.
Then Thorn spotted in their plan a fatal flaw,
One that took advantage of physics’ law.

“The Dragon returns! Dare to look outward!”
This was naught but a false warning.
Not three but all four acted upon his word,
Peeking outside at the sky of the morning.
They saw nothing, naturally. But they heard
A plan’s execution, one of Thorn’s forming,
And Tânadain’s crackling, smoldering flame.
Well! –They only had themselves to blame.

With Tânadain as his wing and his prayer,
Thorn soared up, away, and off the wall!
The Sisters never reacted; he was but a blur
In their vision. They tried for a freezing squall.
Then Tânadain sliced through that thick layer
Of iron in the reserve– creating a waterfall!
Once the temperature dropped to thirty below,
The Sisters found themselves frozen in a row.

The four strained to make their voices known,
But the ice made them mute– and vulnerable.
Their misfire had frozen them to the bone.
Now, more than ever, Tânadain was valuable.
It burned brightly, with a vengeance of its own,
As Thorn moved forth, shouting polysyllable,
“One! –and Two! –and Three! –and all Four!
The Windigos’ Coven shall be no more!”

Thorn decisively tucked Tânadain away–
And when he did so, he witnessed this:
When the Sisters were left to the light of day,
They fell away to dust– with a hiss–
They were part of Nihilia without delay,
And Thorn? Ah, he felt not remiss;
Why honor the dead, when in life
They have caused much trouble and strife?

Once and for all Thorn leapt up to the reserve–
He gripped the wheel tight, and started to turn.
This water was valuable; this he had to conserve
For something better. That he did learn!
With the late Coven having had the nerve
To waste it all– how to regress, to return?
That would be a problem for the pegasi.
Thorn finished turning. He let out a sigh.

This aside, he hopped down to the door–
His task was done in this leg of the campaign.
As he approached, he wondered: What more?
What else have the Pegasi as a chain?
Once he crossed the frost-riddled floor,
He opened the door, to clouds full of rain,
Though the Dragons minded not. If anything,
They were helping the Pegasi with this thing.

Carefully, he retraced his steps in the haze,
’Long the path, back to the central square.
The actions of the Dragons served to amaze
The foal. He thought to ask would be fair:
“The Coven is no more, them I did raze.
But this new weather? Dragons, do you care?
Is it not the same as the ice or the snow?
Dœs it rile you much, thus and so?”

“What make you think this shall descend?”
Inquired one dragon, hard in toil.
“These pegasi we now consider a friend.
What we do now? Lance this boil!
To clean this mess, we decided to lend
Ourselves to Cloudsdale, not to roil.
They simply want to reuse the material.
We have no problem; this is ætherial.

“But, Thorn!” cried the Dragon. “Is it true?
The Coven is gone, and never shall return?”
“That is correct; the Coven is through.”
“O joyous day!” said the Captain. “They burn!
And nothing remains of their frozen brew!
Nothing now in our Factory dœs churn!
Hero Thorn, if there is anything we can repay,
Cloudsdale can give it to you without delay!”

“Two things,” said he, “that I don’t go alone–
A jar of lightning, for the road ahead.
I also need safe passage to Gryphonstone,
High o’er the Sea.” That is what he said!
“It shall be done– I swear on my bone!”
Said the captain, who flew into a nearby shed.
He reëmerged in a moment, with Thorn’s jar,
And was arranging for an airship to go far.

Thorn tucked away the jar next to the Rose,
And then spotted an airship alighting to him.
An old pegasi came forth, ’midst the airflows.
“Hail!” he shouted in a voice so thin.
“I am Captian Fogbow. Who now gœs?”
“Why, ’tis Thorn!” replied the other Captain.
“He is the one that is going to Gryphonstone–
The greatest hero that ever has been known!”

“Come aboard, then, Thorn!” shouted Fogbow.
“We leave for Gryphonstone immediately!”
Thorn took a running leap and landed low
On the deck of the ship, bound for the sea.
“Are you Thorn?” Thorn nodded. “It’ll be so!
For your deed, this is what we owe to thee!
I shall take you straight to the Gryphon-throne
Aboard this ship– my sky-lady Halcyone!”

“Bless you, Thorn, and thanks for your help!”
Shouted the Captain. “Well may you endeavor!”
“Take care of yourselves!” back Thorn did yelp,
In hopes of sealing this brotherhood forever.
And now it was settled: help returns help,
It matters not who had helped whoëver.
Thorn fared to a place of great trade-power,
Getting closer and closer– by the hour.

Canto IV

Celestia’s Orb had long since gone
O’er the horizon, thus dimming the sky.
Indeed, it burned vermillion
Whilst she cleaned her art with clouds of lye.
In its stead, Luna hoisted her own Sun,
The milk-white Moon, into the sky so high.
To accompany it, she added many a star,
To guide aviators near and far.

One such sky-sailor was Captain Fogbow,
Of the Halcyone, Gryphonstone-bound.
With him was Thorn, regarded as a hero
Of Cloudsdale. With Tânadain, he had found
A way to defeat the Craven for the Windigo.
A hero of Dragon-Lands he was then crown’d.
He next intended to intercept Captain Grizzle,
Take the Tartarus Gatekey– he felt some drizzle.

“Go below deck, Thorn!” Fogbow ordered.
“Meridian tells me that a storm is brewing!”
Thorn replied, “Aye, I believe his word–
Fortunately, though ’tis not the Craven’s doing!
I shall seek refuge!”– as how it was heard,
Mindful of the Windigo’s Craven’s sloughing.
Thorn found a hatch and descended the stairs,
Into Halcyone’s belly– not that anyone cares.

The other deckhooves were gather’d ’round
The room, in a merry song and dance.
Some elected to belt out the sound;
Others did strut, swagger, and prance.
The song of the night, so Thorn found,
He recognized, even at the first glance.
The jig and chanty’s theme noöne could miss.
If anyone is curious, it was something like this:

“High up along the airship’s mast,
How she flies proudly in the air!
Our ensign, angel, going past,
Waiving steady, flying so fair!
Her colors a wind’s speedy cast,
Keeping our speed, lest we be bare!
To tack! and tarry! up she gœs!
Flying proudly ’midst the airflows!

“No ship’s complete without a Flag,
Aye, we sing ours praise right aloud!
Even when the rainy skies sag,
Not even ’midst a gray stormcloud!
Where most ships merely stay the drag,
We count on ours to pierce the shroud!
To tack! and tarry! up she gœs!
Flying proudly ’midst the airflows!

“We plead, jack, summon a high draft–
O take us onward to our aim!
May it be heard from fore to aft:
Our colors symbolize our fame!
From steadfast clippers to a raft,
The Flag is what makes a boat’s name!
To tack! and tarry! up she gœs!
Flying proudly ’midst the airflows!”

Thorn decided to join in with singing the verse,
Praising the Halcyone’s flag– my, how grand!
Although the sky-sailors’ chanty was no terce,
It brought merriment to all in the band!
Hard to tell if it was a blessing or a curse,
Enchanted by song and dance, at sea or land!
With the final verse sang, they drank a tribute,
Save for Thorn– his youth he couldn’t refute.

We now return to the decks of the ship.
Here, Fogbow spotted another sailing near.
“Ship ahoy!” he greeted at the clip,
To no avail– now he had a sense of fear.
Who was aboard? “Vessel ahoy!” again the yip,
Then he saw the other, drawing near.
Once it got well enough within sight
To Fogbow, its identity came to light:

A battle-hardened airbarque of Gryphon design,
Cannons and carronades, on either side.
Battered, tempest-tost, in weather so malign.
With fraying knots her sails were tied.
’Twas such a mess flying ’long the skyline,
But that was not why Fogbow’s eyes went wide.
’Twas like he saw a dozen Nightmare-Lunas–
This was Grizzle’s ship, the Pride of Boreas!

His eyes went wider, and he gave a shout:
“All hooves on deck! We’re being boarded!”
In that instant, every sky-sailor came out,
Even Thorn– who here was not needed.
“Know this!” said the Rose, “wi’out doubt,
Grizzle and the Gatekey have just arrivèd;
Assist the Halcyone in defeating the Pride,
And our Gatekey’s-possession shall abide!

The Halcyone’s crew steer’d a hard larboard
To evade the Pride of Boreas’ pirate-gang.
It mattered not; they followed the herd–
Off the port gunwales they now did hang!
Even this weathership they wanted plunder’d,
Stopping at nothing with their gilded fang!
’Twould take more than this to defend.
Thorn decided, “Now this I shall end!”

When the first matey clambered onto deck,
He was met with naught but burning pain,
A scream resonating out of his neck–
And his face, and his beak, had met Tânadain!
Thorn was wise to bring it along on the trek.
“Hark!” shouted Thorn. “By Celestia’s mane!
Bring forth Grizzle, the Boreas’ captain–
Or else, face the furious wrath of the Sun!”

“Thorn!” shouted Fogbow. “Sheathe that sword!
You know that our ship is woodenclad!”
Thorn asked, “E’en in a situation this dire?”
“Yea, e’en now!” said he. “Are you mad?
Go below deck!” His breath had much ire;
Enough problems with ship and crew he had.
But pirates? Aye, it would make no sense
To have a foal wandering for them to fence.

He changed his mind when they were o’errun
By pirates– swinging aboard on cords!
Halcyone’s crew was outnumbered two to one,
Knock’d by the bandits down to the boards
Of their deck. There was no way to run!
They were pinned in place with their swords!
Nobody moved a muscle. Coming aboard
Was the Captain, Grizzle, arm’d with a sword.

“Which one amongst ye’s Thorn?” asked he.
“Who dares to challenge Grizzle to a duel?”
Thorn approached, saying “’Twould be me!
I am the one to deal you a fate most cruel!”
“What!” He turned. “A mere foal I see?
This shall be easy! You are a fool!
En garde!”– his sword raised, eager to slash.
Tânadain was summoned for the clash.

Fogbow would’ve objected, but he knew
Thorn was here to defend, as was before.
Tânadain’s flames were crackling anew.
Grizzle’s steel’d blade stood pois’d for war.
Suddenly, from weight the Halcyone did slew
To port– the Boreas’ weight she bore!
But, it mattered not, there was the joust
Between the two– Thorn hoped to oust!

Then the two collided, with swords locked.
Grizzle proved ruthless in his swings!
His sheer force of his blade mightily knocked
Thorn overboard (among other things)!
“That blade is useless!” Grizzle mocked.
“You’d be better off with a pair of wings!
–Like mine!” He then took to the air.
But Thorn knew how to fly without a pair.

A storm had been fully brewn by now.
But Tânadain still shone bright as day!
The gift of flight to Thorn Tânadain did endow,
With one swing, taking him up, up, and away!
Soaring o’er Grizzle, then landing on the bow,
The colt avoided the gryphon without delay.
Then Thorn returned his aggressive blitz,
And Grizzle charged, intending more hits.

Bind! –Parry! –Sparks flew from the blades,
As their swords sang and danced in the rain!
Among duelers Grizzle was a jack-of-all-trades;
For a novice like Thorn, Grizzle was his bane.
But if Tânadain aided well in Gurun’s crusades,
Then Grizzle would be dueling in vain.
’Til at last Tânadain’s heat proved too great,
Melting Grizzle’s blade, and sealing his fate.

Alas, Grizzle was too quick for Thorn–
He kenned his loss and so flew back–
Back to the Pride of Boreas so battleworn.
It was then that Fogbow spotted some slack
In the ropes connecting the ships– nighly torn.
“Thorn!” he hollered. “If you could hack
Through those ropes, then with your blade
Set the Boreas ablaze– that shall end the raid!”

“That can be done!” So Thorn did vow.
In anticipation, Tânadain lit up anew.
With a running-leap, Thorn flew from the bow
Up the mast, and sliced cleanly through.
Then, as fast as Tânadain could allow,
Thorn lept across the sky so blue.
He bounced off the balloon, and then fell
Down to the ship’s deck– the knock her knell!

Once more Tânadain carried Thorn up,
Back to the balloon– back for the finish!
One slice triggered the balloon’s breakup.
That was all– he had granted Fogbow’s wish,
And he had dashed Grizzle’s perfect setup.
Now, they would be sleeping with many a fish.
Once again, Tânadain did return Thorn.
Now, the Boreas in the sky was forlorn.

Two storms in fact had come to fruition:
The first of these was natural, one of rain.
The second was of Tânadain’s ignition,
To bring the Boreas’ crew pure strain.
These brought to an end Grizzle’s mission–
His attempt at boarding, wholly in vain.
All was well– wait– now Thorn saw
That Grizzle was hanging on by a claw.

Worse yet, Grizzle still had the Gatekey–
“I’ll finish you!” loudly Grizzle did vow.
“To the end of Tartarus you I shall see!”
“Gladly!” said Thorn. “Meet me at the prow!”
Grizzle climbed aboard, escaping the sea,
“He’s still here!” shouted Fogbow. “How?”
And to him, “Thorn, be wary of his advances!
Grizzle is a treacherous fœ in his fences!”

Tânadain shone bright, hot in the night.
The water against the blade turned to mist.
Grizzle drew his sword– so began the fight!
Thorn threw himself forward– and miss’d!
How? Grizzle merely stepped to the right!
(He knew better to dodge than to resist.)
Whist passing, Grizzle’s blade contactèd
Thorn’s side– and then Thorn reactèd!

The rain had allied itself with Grizzle
In the fight– not for gold, but for honor!
Waterdrops against Tânadain did sizzle,
As its flames made mist from water.
Even though the rain was but a drizzle,
The fire continued not– Thorn was a goner!
But did that stop him? Not the slightest!
For you see, Grizzle was not the brightest.

With a mighty heave, Thorn launched back–
Thus knocking Captain Grizzle down!
Tânadain pinned him so he couldn’t attack.
Grizzle stared back, with the sharpest frown.
“Why?” asked Thorn. “Why do you hijack
A Cloudsdale airship, one barely renown?”
“I act for the Crown!” so answered he.
“I plunder so that Grover may make me free!

“I was a criminal, foal, even before now–
I’ve been a brigand in days of yore.
My reprieve King Grover would allow,
But only if I robbed Gryphons not anymore.
In its stead, Grover made me vow
To plunder Equestrian airships sailing o’er
The sea near Gryphonstone– That is all!”
His tears were masked by the rainfall.

Thorn listened, but he believed nothing–
“No matter!” said he. “It’s beside the point–
Regardless of if you serve self or a king,
Whether you act alone or in an effort joint,
’Tis wrong! Besides, I’ve come for this thing!”
Grizzle looked on what the rain did anoint–
The Tartarus Gatekey, ringed ’round his neck–
One snip!– and it was on the Halcyone’s deck.

“What!” exclaimed he. “That was thy goal?”
Into Thorn’s sack the Gatekey did disappear.
Grizzle leapt back up. “You’re done, foal!
That Gatekey shall go nowhere, you hear?
I shan’t give it up, e’en for your soul!
It stays with me! –Am I perfectly clear?”
He drew his sword, intent on a round three.
In response, Tânadain found itself free.

“Have at thee!” so announced Thorn.
At that word, the brawl commenced anew.
Beneath where Grizzle laid was torn
By both swords. Higher up Grizzle flew!
Thorn and Tânadain, too, were airborne.
In the air, each other the duo tried to hew!
With one swipe, Thorn and Tânadain did send
Grizzle o’er the edge– nearly to his end!

Grizzle did not give up easily, however–
He was determined to reobtain the Gatekey.
It was a fight of wit– Grizzle’s wiles so clever,
Pitted against Thorn’s thoughts so free.
Tânadain defended its wielder whithersoëver
Grizzle struck– ’twas like Grizzle faced three!
Then he look’d behind himself, and notic’d
That the wales of the Halcyone was closest.

Hanging on by merely his own claws,
Grizzle looked up to Thorn, awaiting defeat.
Then, in his sack, Grizzle noticed the cause
Of his defeat– a blue Rose spurned the feat.
“What!” he thundered finally. “So it was. . . !”
But it was the last thing he would bleat.
A violent explosion carried the pirate higher.
He had been repelled by cannon-fire!

The impact alone spelled not Grizzle’s doom–
Remember, that they are at a great height.
Below him, salty, swirling waves did loom,
As a reward for his involvement in the fight.
Fast approaching was his oceanic tomb,
As he fell further, further from the moonlight.
’Til at last Captain Grizzle went under
Hard to imagine that he was to plunder!

“Who fired that cannon?” demanded Fogbow.
So answered Meridian, “Why, ’twas I!”
His voice rang up from the deck below.
“’Twas I who blew Grizzle from the sky!”
“Thou art our helmspony!” Fogbow did bellow.
“And you abandoned your true post! Why?”
“How much longer could the fight sustain?”
Said Meridian. “Saw you not Thorn’s pain?”

“Return to thy post, Meridian, at all haste!
Thorn is our Hero!” Fogbow demanded.
In following this, time Meridian did not waste.
Still, his heroism would be reprimanded.
“Captain Grizzle from the sky has been erased,
And the Pride of Boreas’ crew has disbanded!
Thorn, once again you work for us a miracle!
Your deed shall be remembered as a chronicle!”

“You flatter me.” Thorn replied with this.
“But give Meridian credit where it is due!
Even as coxswain, his cannon dœsn’t miss!
Yea, though I have dealt with Grizzle’s crew,
It is Meridian who gave him Death’s kiss!
You saw him– from cannon-fire he flew!
Who am I to take credit for the Captain’s fall,
When Meridian finished him once and for all?”

Fogbow then was lost in thoughts so pensive–
Perhaps the foal was right about Meridian!
He had demanded all hooves on the defensive
Against the boarding of many a barbarian.
Thorn may have led the counteroffensive,
But it was Meridian that he did champion.
“Very well!” he declared. “You’re excused!
Meridian, this attack you have defused!”

Thorn headed below deck, and ran into him–
Said he, “Thank you for avouching my honor!
For a moment, I thought my fate to be grim!”
“Think nothing,” said Thorn. “None are abler
Than thee, Meridian, even with odds that slim.”
“Still, to ward off Captain Fogbow’s anger. . . .”
This prompted a word from the blue Rose.
These words were exactly as what it chose:

“Humility– ah, that is what you have learned?
That is excellent, Thorn, but more still exists!
Victory in battle Tânadain may have earned,
But knowledge, before the battle, trumps fists!
Come now to bed, a rest you have earned–
The road stretches long, and Quivett persists!
There should be a bunk assigned to you.
The rest of the night you should sleep through.”

“Set a course onward to Gryphonstone!”
Shouted Fogbow, now to resume the run.
The sails picked up, on to the Gryphon-throne,
All were working on it, save for one–
Young little Thorn, aboard the Halcyone,
Who that night Luna treated as her own son.
The wind howled, but Thorn heard silence–
Dreaming of home, bidding Grizzle riddance.

Canto V

Thorn was shaken awake, not long after–
“Wake!” said one sailor, “we did arrive!”
After a brief hesitation, Thorn did stir–
“What?” asked he. “Are we all alive?”
The mariner somehow held in his laughter.
“Of course, Thorn! We all did survive!”
Thorn got onto his hooves, and looked about:
They indeed have reached the end of the route.

Breakfast in the ward followed shortly–
A hot bowl of porridge that was in stock,
Accompanied, as was tradition, by tea.
The space was alive with the sound of talk
Of Thorn finally stopping Grizzle’s spree.
Even Captain Fogbow was still in shock.
Thorn, however, calmly finished his meal–
All of his pride he somehow did conceal.

Then came the time to disembark Halcyone–
An airship of her kind was never faster
In flying from Dragons’-Land to Gryphonstone.
Thorn gave his last word to her shipmaster–
“Farewell, Captain! May you never be alone!
May you be safe from every kind of disaster!”
All the sailors waved goodbye, e’en Meridian,
Who waved from the brig’s port of the galleon.

Off the ship the colt walked down the gangway,
Watching the merchant ships sail to and fro
As his quick hooves alit on the causeway,
He took sight of the city’s bustling show.
With a final wave, nothing more to say,
He moved towards the city and its great row.
The next part of his grand task lay here.
That thought alone gave him quite a cheer.

“My,” Thorn marveled, “this city is massive!”
Everywhere that his eyes could possibly see,
All of Gryphonstone was impossibly active.
From the main street to the darkest alley.
In their trades the gryphons were persuasive;
Bits changed claws again and again repeatedly.
This trading was perfect for Thorn’s quest:
Find a Janus Stone, at a price he found best.

He saw stalls selling many a ware–
Gold and silver, and gems of every color,
Ancient codices, with pages that easily tear,
Gryphon-baked scones, amid one and another.
Thorn found what he needed over there,
But found the price– aye, he could not cover:
One hundred thousand bits, for the rarest– red–
What to do? Thorn then saw the solution ahead.

Tacked to a post was a parchment sign
Showing two gryphons of particular relevance.
The first, Gesiþe, was of Grover’s bloodline,
His dear daughter, taken five months since.
The second, Grøß, was presented as malign–
Accused of the aforementioned offense.
“Wanted,” the sign advertised, “dead or alive–
Five million bits.” Grøß was not to survive.

This seemed to Thorn to be the solution–
Find Grøß, and bring him to Grover!
He would end at last the villain’s persecution,
Bring him to the King– ’twould all be over!
It would be left to the King for prosecution,
To end Grøß’s living as a wanted rover.
Then he’d also have to get Gesiþe back–
Then one seller saw what was in his sack.

“Ah! Blue petals! And a stem so slim!
I’ll buy it from you! One hundred bits!”
“Nay!” said another. “Don’t listen to him!
I’ll double his offer! Two hundred bits!”
In the madness, Thorn saw many a limb
Extended to him, offering so many bits.
He refused all monetary offers for his master–
To sell off the Blue Rose would spell disaster!

Quickly, Thorn tore through the market–
The offers became too many, too insistent!
To the other gryphons, this did mark it
As antisocial– the solution? Be persistent!
Left, right, left again– all ways were the market.
Of nothing but stalls it consisted!
Finally he seeked sanctuary in an alley,
To his good fortune– he avoided the rally.

Once he was sure he had lost the crowd,
Thorn decided to then resume his pursuit.
“Grøß shall be brought to justice!” he vow’d.
Henceforth he shall collect the king’s loot,
Buying the Janus Stone would then be allow’d,
Putting him closer to ending the first dispute.
The alley he was in was empty, devoid of life–
What was the likelihood of encountering strife?

Dark as it was here, early in the morn–
(Celestia’s domain doth reach that far.)
–But not too dark for a colt like Thorn,
Nor for the gryphons in the bazaar.
There, a bit-coin in a puddle was borne.
Knowing their greed, Thorn found this bizarre.
He walked over and plucked it out of there,
Looked nearby, and saw there was a pair.

In fact, there were more, all in a line–
A trail of bits, waiting to be follow’d.
Whoëver laid this had intentions so malign–
It might lead to some villain’s abode!
And yet, all the same, Thorn walked the line,
Adding bit after bit to his sack’s load.
The line then turned around the bend,
As Thorn proceeded to the line’s end.

The end of the line lay in a dark passage–
A small pile of coins, lying on the ground.
Thorn never got the flower’s message–
There, a gilded fortune he had found.
The very idea he ought to acknowledge,
To pay great attention to the background.
Too late! A net fell upon the foal,
Revealing the true nature of the line’s goal!

“What!” cried a voice. “Grendel, come quick!
That trap worked! We’ve ourselves a colt!”
Thorn struggled, but the net was too thick
For him– there was no way for him to bolt!
Came then a stench that made him nigh sick,
As Grendel descended on the presumed dolt.
Then, behind Grendel, there was his boss–
A big brute of a gryphon– this was Grøß!

“Well,” said Grøß, “what have we here?”
“An earth-colt, sir! This will be excellent!”
“Come now, colt, there’s no need to fear–
Me and Grendel are actually lenient.”
His mad grin stretched from ear to ear.
“Why, this one can fetch a high payment!”
So commented Grendel. They didn’t realize
That Thorn was not that sort of prize.

They took Thorn away in their net,
Back to their hideaway, in a place elsewhere.
Thorn silently lamented the hidden threat,
Now the consequence he’d have to bear.
If someone rescued him, he’d pay the debt,
Gladly, too– of him it was only fair.
They threw the whole thing into a cell,
One that, Thorn noticed, had a worse smell.

Then he noticed someone to his right–
A young female gryphon, captured before.
Her feathers were still ruffled from a fight,
And iron chains ’round her legs she wore.
As he looked, her identity came to light–
Fire-orange eyes, staring down at the floor,
And her beak, curved down like a scythe–
Why, this was the lost princess, Gesiþe!

Across the way, there lay another cage–
A pegasus, blue as a midday summer sky.
From her looks, Thorn guessed a young age.
Her mane and tail were gold, like her eye.
Her attention naught could seem to engage–
Staring down sadly– she let out a sigh.
How long had she been here? It might be
Months since she was last seen free.

But was Thorn doomed like them? Nay!
To him, this became part of the plot!
With Tânadain, he had for them a way
To free the three of them from this lot!
Thorn struggled in his net just a bit mæ,
But these efforts amounted to naught.
’Fore he could try again, he was blocked.
His futile resistance the gryphon balked.

Said she, “Gesiþe is my name, pony–
The daughter of our great King Grover.
Your little struggle is hopeless only–
Calm down, for it is now all over.
You’ll live your life ’til you grow bony,
And you flop down finally in the clover.
Why, take a look at that pegasus there–
She knows, and has simply ceased to care.”

“Aye,” said she. “And my name is Coin–
You can see it right here, look!–”
Yea, there was a single bit on her loin.
“Ever since I Cloudsdale forsook,
I’ve searched for my sister to rejoin.
She too was taken by Grøß the crook.
If I am lucky, we two shall be reunited.
O– how that would make me excited!”

“And I? I am called Thorn,” he said–
“I am on a quest for glory and wisdom.”
Gesiþe said, “If only them you avoided.”
“Ah, but you are sought by the kingdom!
A large bounty for Grøß– I’m not misled!
Five million bits– a reward offered seldom!”
“That’s nice,” said Coin, “but pray tell us all–
How shall you now return Gesiþe at all?”

“Fear not,” said he, “for I shall break out–
And more, I shall take you both with me!”
“But doing so would make an utter rout–
How can you, foal, possibly help us flee?”
“I’m tangled in this net, so get me out–
I’ll then show you my universal key!”
Gesiþe’s claws made short work of the net–
Then she beheld the greatest weapon yet.

“What?” asked she. “Is that really Tânadain?
Glory to thee for having obtained such!”
“Actually,” Thorn replied, “there was no pain–
The Dragons owe me their gratitude that much!
’Tis a long story, so for another day I’ll abstain.
In any duel, Tânadain’s proven a nonesuch!
Now come!” Tânadain was then summoned.
As the fires lit, their fates were brightened.

Swish swash, slice! The iron was easily melted.
Thorn stepped through, and Gesiþe did follow.
In two more strokes, the other cage was rifted.
Coin climbed out– though she seemed slow.
Thorn saw that her wings had grown stunted,
A sign of a long period under a ceiling so low.
But nothing in the way needed to be vaulted,
It was clear. –Then suddenly, Thorn halted!

There in the next room laid the twosome!
Grøß’s back was turned, and Grendel observed.
To Thorn, ’twas a beheld sight most gruesome.
His wit was nigh becoming unnerved.
Regarding wily arts, the others knew some.
Coin was daring, whilst Gesiþe was reserved.
“Give me a bit!” Coin whispered so quietly.
“I shall distract him so that we can flee!”

“Be wise in thy tactics,” warned the Blue Rose.
“A trap might fail, but this isn’t always true!”
“What!” said Coin. “Whose words were those?
What guardian dares to see us through?”
Then silent again it was. They all froze.
Thorn gave Coin a bit. That bit silently flew
Through the air, hitting the wall beyond,
Prompting Grendel in curiosity to respond.

Once he looked, he was caught off-guard
By Thorn and the flames of Tânadain!
Coin backed away, and Gesiþe stared hard
As her captor upon the floor was lain.
Grøß turned to look. His face was jarr’d
When he saw that Grendel was nigh slain!
“So! You escaped from your cages,” said he.
“This’ll be easy– even with two against three.

“Come now! Have at ye!” Hard Grøß swung.
Thorn dodged this, but Grendel was freed.
Tânadain was raised, and up Coin sprung–
Like the earlier bit-coin– at a high speed.
Then atop Grøß’s head Coin hung–
He was at last blinded by his own greed.
Grøß suddenly threw off Coin in a huff.
She hit her wings on the ground so rough.

“This is not the end!” so Thorn vow’d.
Tânadain was formally introduced to Grøß.
With the flames, his feathers were plow’d.
This level of resistance made him cross.
He quickly pinned Thorn, and shouted so loud:
“Thou naïve, foolish idiot, this is thy loss!
The end of thy freedom hath come now.
Before thy new master thou shalt bow!”

“Nay!” the lost princess, Gesiþe, cried.
She then sunk her claws into Grøß’s back.
“In securing our servitude you certainly tried,
But we shall disappear into the smallest crack!
You can beat dignity, you’ll ne’er beat pride!
And since when can one being beat a pack?”
Grendel then snatched Gesiþe away,
Showing that not one, but two, were in play.

This alley commotion earned the attention
Of the gryphons’ guards, patrolling on duty.
One decided to relieve the tension
Present in (what seemed) an empty alley.
There was Grøß, ready for apprehension!
He had an accomplice as well in his spree.
The guard dipped out to face his other.
G-r-ø-ſ-s, he signed– “Bring another!”

But this summoned forth all guards nearby–
In five months, at last, they had their fugitive!
Big as he was, Grøß knew that he couldn’t try
To resist any longer– he was now a captive.
Tânadain was whisked away, and Thorn did pry
Out of Grøß’s grip– no longer conflictive.
“Gesiþe?” asked the guard. “Be that you?
Wonderful! How were you found? Tell us true!”

“That would be Thorn.” Gesiþe pointed a claw.
“He was the one who broke me out of my cell.
In a dimlit room beyond the reach of our law,
His fiery sword cut me out of my iron shell!
He repeated for Coin, leaving us both in awe.
Grøß resisted, whom Thorn nigh did quell.”
The guard-captain nodded to his phœnix.
It flew off, to tell Grover of Thorn’s tricks.

It returned not long after, and there were in tow
Two carriages– one for Grøß, the other Thorn.
The guards then proceeded to stuff the fœ
Into a barred stagecoach so weather-worn.
The other opened up for Thorn to show
A great treasure– five million bits, as sworn!
But he didn’t stop there– there was more to do
In the mission set forth by the Rose so blue.

The first order of business: the Janus stone.
He once again found the appropriate vendor.
One hundred thousand bits from the throne
In exchange for the stone– the sale did render.
’Twas the largest sale that day in Gryphonstone,
And noöne knew of the bits’ royal sender.
Next, Thorn arranged for a ship to Canterlot
To continue on the quest as he was taught.

“Let me come with you!” Coin beseeched.
“My sister is said to slave in the mine!
I heard it from Grøß, that’s where she reached–
I intend our sisterhood to recombine!”
“That can be done, Coin,” Thorn preached.
“Come aboard this hired ship of mine!
We ponies stick together, many as one.
United as friends, anything can be done!”

“Bringing a guest?” asked the captain.
“Aye, sir– now set a course for Canterlot!”
“Canterlot-ho!” cried he, calling for action.
The deck was soon alive with the motley lot.
An east wind was caught by the coxswain,
A strong one, pulling the ship’s sails taut.
“Is she fast?” asked Thorn. “Yes, indeed!”
Said the captain. “She travels at top speed!”

At Gryphonstone Coin took one last glance
Before sighing and turning her face away.
Her eyes stared into the distance, in a trance,
As the Æolus sailed forth without a delay.
At this altitude, there was a great expanse
To take in, as they glided on the airway.
She smiled, and knew her sister drew near–
It had been months since she last felt cheer.

Canto VI

Two days and two nights had pass’d
Since Thorn had last visited Gryphonstone.
Here he was, in (what is now) Canterlot at last.
But he did not arrive here completely alone:
Joining him was Coin, Cloudsdale’s outcast,
To find her sister’s last whereabouts known.
Grøß made mention of the Canterlot mine–
Was it here that that filly he did consign?

“Avast! These are the mines of Canterlot!”
So declared the captain of the Æolus.
The ship was anchored with many a knot,
To hold fast against persistent lightness.
Now Thorn and Coin disembarked the yacht–
There was no city– it seemed dangerous!
Noöne was there for them to greet–
A quiet scene– something was offbeat.

A variety of tents were scattered about,
But the mining gear was kept up with pride.
All was quiet, but there was no doubt
That within the mines they were inside.
Thorn grew impatient, and gave a shout:
“Hark! Hail! Does someone here abide?”
But Coin said, “Look! There’s no gatekeeper!
Don’t you see? We ought to go deeper!

“Can Tânadain light the way?” asked she.
“Sorry, Coin, I’m afraid not,” Thorn replied.
“The Dragons made it quite clear to me–
It’ll burn me if anything nonviolent is tried!
We’ll need torches!” But there weren’t any.
Thorn looked into the tunnel and sighed.
“Here we go.” Thorn descended within first,
Coin next– into darkness they were immers’d!

The shaft was bright enough to start–
Celestia’s Sun creeped in to light the way,
As a more malevolent Darkness did part.
Everywhere they gazed were halls of gray.
There, on the track, was an old mining-cart–
A way for them to reduce the delay!
They climbed in, and Thorn released the brake.
The cart set off then, with the slightest shake.

The cart accelerated into the mine’s night–
Celestia save us from this chthonian store!
Now, more than ever, they needed light,
As Pluto welcomed the two to his shore.
After a straight rail, suddenly they turned right.
On, and on, and on the rail the two wore.
Until at last the rail’s end was reached.
The brake was applied– O! It screeched!

A glowing lantern was hung on the buffer.
This they shall require to advance!
With that in hoof, they needed not suffer
From nyctophobia, or from Alû’s lance–
Though Thorn admitted the Sun was brighter,
Their vision even a lantern did enhance,
As they descended into the earthen tunnels,
Following the cave’s moisture-runnels.

A mad maze ensued in the underground grotto–
Left, right, left, as they followed gravity’s tail
To where Canterlot Mountain was hollow.
The lantern barely pierced Nyx’s shadow-veil.
Then they noticed that the streams did slow
And pool in a well at the end of the trail.
A sign hung above the entrance, overhead–
In snow-white paint, “Ðwaite Mine” it said.

“Ðwaite Mine?” said Coin. “That’s its name?”
“Doth your sister abide here?” Thorn asked.
“If Grøß be right, then this is what became
Of her! Setting her free, then, I am tasked!”
“So I see,” said Thorn, “but all the same,
We need to keep our presence here masked.
Look yonder!” Thorn pointed within the shaft.
Sounds of mining resonated through fore to aft.

Most occupants were young fillies and foals;
The eldest was aged not two-and-ten years,
And all had lived their lives as merely moles.
All were kept to labor by the greatest of fears:
Two diamond-dogs, watching them dig holes.
Sometimes alone, but usually with their peers.
Dissatisfactory work was punished by the whip.
Any worse? Then they ended up in Death’s grip.

“Thou shalt not stop!” demanded the two.
“Lord Fenrir demands from us another ton!
No time to waste! Keep at it, all of you!”
Seeing this awful scene rendered Coin ashen.
“This place is terrible through and through!
There’s no way they can pick the mine barren!
Thorn, we must act! My sister is down there!
I recognize her mark! Quartz is in the lair!”

“In a moment’s time,” said Thorn. “Patience!
She shall be free before you can know it!
We shall sneak around, in complete silence,
To somewhere outside of their sight and wit.
When they known’t, then we lend assistance!
We lay out a strike that they cannot outwit!
Patience, Coin, is the key in this endeavor–
If we’re not careful, we’ll be here forever!

“Now this way!” They got deep in a crack,
And crawled forth in an empty vein of crystal.
“Wait a second,” Thorn said. “Coin, go back!
Circle the other way!” “Why?” “Don’t mull!”
Thus, though a logical reason Coin did lack,
To Thorn’s idea and plan she remained loyal.
The route grew narrow, but she pressed on–
She was eager to see her, even after an æon!

Coin found dear Quartz past the next bend,
Hard at her work, digging for the mineral.
At last, her misery came to its ultimate end
’Midst the granite, limestone, and opal.
Coin whispered, “Quartz, sister, my friend!”
But her reaction– Coin’s mind it did baffle:
She then shouted, though she sounded hurt:
“Geri! Freki! Come quick! An intruder! Alert!”

Thorn’s glare was hurled at Coin– “You fool!”
He whispered so harshly. “What did you do?”
Quoth the Rose, “There’s no time to ridicule!
See what remains of your plan through!”
“Now Coin!” shouted Thorn. “Defy their rule!”
The other miners started shouting anew.
When Geri and Freki arrived, then they struck–
Tânadain’s summoning would wreak havoc!

Geri quickly dodged Thorn’s first swing–
Freki noticed this, and pounced upon.
Tânadain, though, forged by the dragon-king,
Wasn’t easily trumped, even this battle hereon.
The fires frightened them off– what a thing!
The mine was lit as bright as Celestia’s dawn.
Then, out of naught, a whip met Thorn’s face!
It retraced quickly, leaving a bloody trace.

But what can cords do against fiery iron?
“Naught!” Tânadain answered for Thorn.
It charged forth, and Freki’s face it did burn.
Before either reacted, Thorn was airborne,
Sailed aloft by the Firewing in the cavern.
Then, in a flash brighter than Celestia’s dawn,
Tânadain dove down onto its canine prey–
But that still ended not the subterranean fray!

If ever they had an excuse, this was one:
All the slaves stopped with a shirk
And looked on the unexpected action.
With them all distracted, Coin got to work
Liberating Quartz. She then said, “Listen!
You’re now free.” She added a smirk.
“Thorn there shall repeat after the fight,
And bring everyone out into the light.”

Meanwhile, Tânadain fought on for all,
Showing no mercy to the diamond-fœs.
When the two were flung up against a wall,
They charged back, united as amigos.
The whip lashed out, once and for all,
Causing upon Thorn the greatest of thrœs.
Thorn needed a way to start the revolution,
But nowhere was there an apparent solution.

It seemed the end, but Thorn did take notice
Of a boiler, powered by a dragon in chains.
His work had left him completely happiless,
And his bindings had given him many pains.
The chains rendered him wholly flightless–
This alone was the greatest of his many banes!
“Help me, warrior!” he begged on all fours.
“Free me here, and my life shall be yours!”

“Shall you betray me after?” Thorn asked.
With dragons, he had to take great caution.
“Nay!” said he. “My intents are unmasked:
I never saw freedom after that fateful auction.
Torch is my name, before the query is asked.
Now please, foal! Make my liberation done!”
Thorn saw such impasse, and took advantage–
Tânadain, then, quickly severed the linkage!

Freed Torch had no words to convey grace.
His actions, instead, spoke his volumes.
A fiery look of vengeance swept ’cross his face,
And his nose puffed out smoke and fumes.
He was a proud member of the dragon-race,
Not someone to toy with, as anypony presumes.
He opened his maw, and breathed forth fire–
Such was just an expressed fraction of his ire!

Unfortunately, neither Geri nor Freki it hit.
They rolled aside to dodge the flames.
“Torch!” shouted Freki. “Dare not to quit!
Or want you to be the target of our blames?”
Their only reply was Tânadain’s blade-hit,
Knocking their wind out of their frames.
Tânadain cooled, and Thork kept them pinned.
Torch alit to them, and told how they sinned:

“You’ve deceived your own Lord in your efforts
To keep your crystal-mining production going.
We’ve heard what Lord Fenrir always asserts–
A lack of slavery! –Yea, that is your knowing!
Yea, though what Truth I say to you hurts,
How much time can you keep on borrowing?
Heed my words, if dignity you want to keep,
Else Fenrir may give you the æternal sleep!”

“But how else to dig out these precious stones,
If this help be denied to the diamond-dogs?”
Said Freki. And Geri added, “’Tis in our bones!
In this mining-machine, they are the very cogs!”
“Why justify cruelty, when Fenrir condones?”
Said Torch, in ever-acerbic-toned dialogues.
“Remember this one thing, and omit the rest:
‘Cupiditás radix málórum est!’

“They’re yours now, Thorn, as you see fit!”
Declared Torch. But Thorn had another idea.
Rather than granting relief to their spirit,
He used a penalty borrowed from Equestria.
“No punishment to you I shall commit,”
Said he. “Nor shall my Princess Celestia!
Rather, I’ll leave you two to Lord Fenrir–”
That statement caused in them great fear!

“You cannot be serious!” declared Geri.
“Have you not met him?” asked Freki.
“His punishments to all are legendary!”
Said Geri. “Especially when he’s cranky!”
“Please, Thorn the Great– nay, Legendary!”
Said Freki. The both of them were shaky.
“Is that so? Then that’s what I intend!”
Said Thorn. “Fenrir shall see to your end!

“Fillies! Colts! You are all manumitted!”
So stated Thorn “Help me escort these two
To Fenrir, for the crimes they committed!
“Thank you, Thorn!” said a filly colored blue.
“But will Fenrir render their crimes remitted?”
“Not at all! The one to be liberated is you!”
Left and right came the breaking of chains.
At last all were free from their iron reins.

“What seemed to ye to be a side-quest,”
Spoke the Rose in the following interval,
“Might in fact be your absolute best!
By challenging Geri and Freki in battle,
You’ve secured freedom for the rest!
Gather the Janus Stones while you’re able. . . .”
Thorn found what he needed by an old rag.
Five blue Janus Stones went into his saddlebag.

Trumpet blares! Guards standing alert!
Fenrir had come to oversee the mine.
But his expectations the scene did subvert:
There were not just two dogs in the mine,
But a slave force, working in concert.
“What’s this? Geri! Freki! You’re out of line!
You swore to me this was your own work!
. . . Though I suspected this strange quirk.

“Guards! Take them out!” Fenrir ordered.
That was their last moment of freedom.
“The rest of you, let me now be heard:
You are dismissed from my lorddom.
You are free now, and you have my word.
Now go! Flee from conditions so gruesome!”
This they gladly did, but then came the query:
How to return to their parents, who did worry?

For most of them, this was straightforward:
The ponies of now are not so well mix’d
As they are today– Pegasi resided skyward,
Unicorns by the sea, and earth ponies fix’d
To the farmground where first they stirr’d–
Friendship was all that they had betwixt.
O Twilight Sparkle, sing forth such magic–
Be there for them, as a leader so choragic!

The ship stood patient, anchored by its hands–
“Where is Cloudsdale?” asked one pegasus.
“I last saw it travelling to Dragon-Lands,”
Replied Thorn. “Therefore, travel with us!
Torch’s home is there, right upon its sands,
And I to Saddle-Arabia’s vast barelessness.
Earth-ponies! Unicorns! What about ye?”
“To decide,” said one unicorn, “we are free.

“The Unicorns elect to stay here in Canterlot.
Here, we shall do a great many great things
That will live on for the ages as a grand blot
Upon Equestria’s map– as queens and kings!”
They then retreated under a shady spot,
To weave a web from their spiders’-strings.
There they remained, planning in the shade–
This, you see, was how Canterlot was made.

An earth pony said, “We elect to migrate
To where we deem the soil to be fertile.
Just as the unicorns here can be great,
We help grow corn and trees of apple.
How else do you maintain your state
If the crops bloom not come April?
Let us take our leave!” So the departed,
Setting off for their destiny in the mud.

Coin decided to follow Quartz her sister,
And so that left Torch and the other pegasi.
Fortunately, not many of them there were,
So the yacht could take them to the sky.
Once they boarded, weighed was the anchor,
And they sailed to the cloud-city so high!
That was also on the way to Dragon’s-Land,
Where Torch could rejoin the dragon-band.

In a matter of hours, Cloudsdale was seen–
White clouds, rainbow-falls, and dragons, ho!
Thorn shouted to the captain, seeing the scene:
“Cloudsdale’s up ahead! Get the ship to slow!”
The ship slowed trajectory, and all nineteen
Pegasi fillies and colts saw what they did know
Still, after that long time, their long-lost home–
From its fluffy foundation to its wide dome.

Then they all took flight, towards their kin.
Torch, for one, was especially grateful.
The parents cried, “Where’ve you been?”
“You want to know not– ’twas baneful!”
“Thorn!” said a dragon “Time grows thin!
Hath Quivett’s threat yet been made null?”
“Nigh!” came the reply. “I shall now travel
To Saddle Arabia’s library– then I’ll have all!”

This settled, the ship again took off
To the desert nation– to the bibliotheck!
Flying through a cloud made Thorn cough,
So he decided to go down below deck.
Saddle-Arabia, so it was told, was not far-off.
He’d be there before he could even check.
Though the Blue Rose did have to warn:
“Don’t hop off the ship until it stops, Thorn!”

True to their word, a desert was drawing near–
But unlike the desert in Dragon-Lands found,
This one did not inspire in ponies’ hearts fear.
Rather, dotted here and there in the ground,
Tents, caravans, and date-palms did appear.
The ship, to let off the colt, was then down’d.
Why, before his hooves even touched the sand,
Thorn already knew the name of this land!

Canto VII

First Thorn look’d to the left, then to the right:
What else but sand and air, with water none?
The ground was colored, red along with white,
And date-palms shaded from the harsh sonne.
Celestia made her presence with her light,
Enough to boil liquids, whether dram or tun.
Whatever, Thorn ask’d, was this sealess shore?
“Saddle-Arabia” it was called– naught more!

The library was in the town ahead of the foal.
One thing more was needed in his spell
To enter Tartarus– to make it whole,
And to sound the villain Quivett’s knell.
It seemed to Thorn to be just a casual stroll
Across the sand– it was just as well;
How long would the librarian require
To get what Thorn needed to acquire?

A earthen-built city, Thorn saw, was erected
A bit off from the ship, along the horizonline.
Beams of wood, and walls of dried mud,
Baked hard where the Sun did shine.
The walls were straight, the streets crooked.
The town itself was of a haphazard design.
Market stalls were scattered here to there,
Though, like the town, they were all bare.

A scene he saw, one he saw twice before:
An empty void– ghost-town number three.
He wondered if something was amiss, or
If this was naught but a conspiracy.
Thorn put his hoof on Tânadain once more,
To fight any danger that he might see.
Only Ninlil dared answer Thorn’s dispute,
But not with a fight– but with her flute.

If Thorn could, he would have asked a local–
But, as I said, none were there to greet
Thorn. More and more him this did baffle.
Was it Celestia’s Sun? Was for them the heat
Too great? Otherwise, the plaza would be full.
He turned around the corner, to the next street.
“Look!” said the Blue Rose. “There it lies!”
Such magnificence in front of Thorn’s eyes:

No mud here, but instead a spiraling bergfry
Made of marble, glistening in the sunlight.
Inside? Scrolls and codices abound aplenty!
Twilight Sparkle’s Paradise was this site!
O Twilight, if only this place you could see!–
Such scholarly splendor!– of high might!
Aye, we are now at the Saddle-Arabian library.
Thorn knocked– but the reply was quite wary.

The door opened up, and there stood
A young unicorn filly– an apprentice.
As such, she wore a cloak with a hood
Covering her horn and the grayness
Of her fur. “Young being, you should
Not be here!” she warned with distress.
“Why not?” asked he. “I’ve simply come
To access your archives on this diem.”

“Closed are we!” she then quickly spoke,
Before shutting the door on Thorn’s face.
“What! By Celestia!” he did invoke,
“Why doth she treat me with utter disgrace?”
Then she said through the door of oak,
“’Tis Grogar– the bandit is near this place.
If he finds this, he’ll burn it to the ground,
So go away, I do not want to be found!”

“Grogar? A bandit?” Thorn wondered aloud.
“What if I tell to you that I can bring him
On his knees before a Saddle Arabian crowd?
“Stranger, I don’t want to go out on a limb,”
Said she, “But if that be what you vow’d,
Then may your future be not at all dim.
Hasten now! Surely Grogar cometh now!
Nothing but silence I must only allow!”

Thorn then stood guard, with Tânadain
Ready to fight, whenever Thorn needed it.
Per the apprentice’s word, silent he did remain
As he watched the desert– though he did admit
That Grogar was taking his time in the plain.
What crimes did Grogar plan to commit?
It was a while, but then Thorn remembered
That his hired ship had still not stirred!

Surely that was to be Grogar’s next target!
Thorn rushed back to it at breakneck speed.
The raider’s next move Thorn felt in his gut;
Their motives are ever powered by greed.
Soon Thorn arrived– but already the pirate
Had boarded the yacht, looting it indeed.
“Grogar!” shouted Thorn. “I command thee
To disembark the ship– and face me!”

Grogar’s head then poked out of a porthole–
“Hark!” asked he. “Who now to me calls?”
Then he looked down. “Thou? A mere foal?
Young one, thou hast some great galls
To entangle thyself in my rightful control
O’er this desert! Any of thy brawls
Thou dost propose, I easily shall deflect–
Then the rest of the cargo I shall collect.

“Hussárs!” he cried. “Move forth! Attack!”
Out of another porthole a cloudy swarm flew.
When Thorn saw them, he was taken aback–
Breezie warriors? Whatever can they do?
Small as they are, when together, they lack
Not a great strength. This fact Grogar knew!
Fœs Thorn’s size were barely beatable at all–
Could Tânadain face these, so many, so small?

“Breezies are delicate, no?” said the Blue Rose.
“They easily fall to even the smallest flame!”
With this in mind, Tânadain struck its pose,
Waiting to strike. –Then the Hussárs came!
They surrounded Thorn, lifting him by his tœs.
Tânadain swung, and missed– for shame!
To Thorn, the Hussárs were naught but mist–
He could barely see– if only one could assist!

But this battle was his own, and his own only–
Instead of remaining, he lept off and bit forth
With Tânadain– it sizzled, ever so slightly–
He attacked a second time, a third, a fourth,
Dividing the cloud around him so broadly.
Burnt Hussárs fell into the sand thenceforth.
But more were elusive, dodging his swing–
But they were not the only ones with a wing:

One roundabout swing brought Thorn on high.
The same swing brought him back to low!
The cloud was parted, but the end wasn’t nigh.
They reattached, reclumped– like loose snow.
Tânadain lashed back out, intending to fry,
To no avail– past like the wind they did blow.
Whichever way Thorn faced, they were behind,
Remaining in the spot where he was blind.

Small as they were, they stung like bees;
Thorn can tell of this agonizing experience.
The pain was so great, Thorn was on his knees,
Before the ship, giving Grogar assurance
That he may, with impunity, go and seize
Whatever cargo he may without hinderance.
Tânadain, though, was a rabid watchdog,
Snarling and biting with fiery teeth at the fog.

It was despite this gripe that back up Thorn
Leapt, and anew Tânadain’s heat did blossom.
He realized that a fog was not meant to be torn
By brute strength, nor anything like that item.
Instead, after that fight left him so war-worn,
He held out Tânadain, and gestured to come.
The Hussárs went around, avoiding the bait–
But Thorn nudged left– for them, too late!

The whole swarm of Hussárs was slain.
Now for the larger issue: to beat back Grogar!
“Come forth, Grogar!” Thorn shouted again.
“I’ve faced and have defeated your Hussár-
Swarm! Now you! Ignore me not in vain!”
Silence from the ship. “That, villain, is by far
The most arrogant response returned to me!
Coward, come and fight– ’tis me and thee!”

Upon this high insult did Grogar burst out
Of the ship, with two swords in his force!
“Your outlandish chivalry loses this bout!”
Said Grogar. “For you see, here in at the source,
Those who know what lawlessness is about
Are ever-victorious! The world’s a cruel course,
Where the strong live and the weak perish;
This you may do so yourself, if you wish.”

Grogar’s swords then clashed with Tânadain.
“What you say may be true,” Thorn conceded,
“However, life needn’t all be naught but pain:
Allies rise and fall, whenever this be needed.
Defend them like brothers, and you shall attain
Victory, for they too shall have interceded!
Now have at ye!” –Thorn rushed forthward,
And Tânadain’s flaming jaws snapped forward.

Ah, but Grogar was a bit mæ clever than this.
He stepped aside, and Thorn hit only sand.
Then he noticed what sword he did miss–
’Twas Tânadain, the greatest blade in the land!
“Gurun’s sword, used by a pony? That’s amiss!
How did you steal that from the dragon-band?”
“Simple,” said he. “I am one of them now!
You’re mistaken if you think there was a row!”

Thorn charged forth, and locked swords again.
Grogar fended back with only one blade,
“Be that so?” Grogar inquired. “Pray, when?
As a pony, you should have been afraid!”
With his other sword, Grogar right then
Nearly made his sudden victory made.
However, it merely grazed by Thorn’s mane–
But, Thorn decided Grogar’s victory to feign.

He collapsed to the ground, and the sword
Tânadain went out, so as to play along.
“At last!” said Grogar. “He falls to the lord!”
To the ship, “Your cargo now does belong
To me! Everything you have, offboard!
Thorn’s dead!” “That’s where you’re wrong!”
Thorn leapt back up, and Tânadain reignited,
And Grogar faced a fate for him that abided.

Tânadain then carried the colt high aloft,
Then dove like a hawk, onto Grogar’s back.
“Alright, Grogar,” said he, “I won’t be so soft.
Good trumps evil!” And with one swift whack,
Grogar’s horns from his head were torn off!
Thorn then slipped them into his sack.
Grogar turned and ran, having been beaten,
Tânadain was sheathed, no more action.

“Thorn!” said the captain. “Such braveness!
Thank you for saving this gryphon-clan!”
“No longer shall I require your service!”
Shouted Thorn. “Set your course for new fan!”
The ship lifted up, and by its compass,
Turned to Gryphonstone, according to plan.
That settled, Thorn returned to the town,
To announce victory, and lift the lockdown.

The town looked the same as was before,
Which was good news– Grogar was alone.
One villager saw who had come ashore,
Then went back in– Thorn was unknown
To him. Thorn, though, was not sure
Why they were still scared to the bone.
It mattered not! –The library stood waiting,
Under Celestia’s Sun so bright and blinding.

Thorn knocked, and the apprentice answered.
“Hail!” said he. “Look at what I bring!
These are Grogar’s horns. You’ven’t misheard;
I have slain the long-terrorizing bandit-king.
Now then, after I have spoken my word,
Shall you open the library?” he was asking.
“I shall,” replied she. “Please, come inside!”
With the danger ceased, the door opened wide.

“We host the collections of every major mind–
From Haycartes to Zamenhoof, and all betwixt!
Just state what you want, and I’ll go find
Exactly what you need– even if it be mix’d
In some giant mess!” “Well, that is kind,”
Replied Thorn. “But my thoughts are fix’d:
The dragons say that you have a certain spell
That, whenever cast, opens Tartarus’ well.”

“Ah! Yes!” came her reply. “I know the one!”
In her aura, the bookshelves then came alive:
Scrolls and codices were shuffled in the action,
Haphazardly, and yet as well like any beehive.
She then came across a scroll titled in Latin:
“Jánós Ignis Aperí”– three words were five:
“Open the Gates of Fire”. “I have found it!”
Announced she. “This scroll here shall fit!”

“I do thank thee,” a grateful Thorn said.
“But, pray tell, what art thou named?”
However, the apprentice replied instead:
“With such an inquiring mind you are framed!
’Tis wise, also, to be just as well-read.
(Ishtar’s patronage is not to be shamed!)
But, if you do insist, my name is Kealm.
Thank you for visiting this literate realm!”

As Thorn stepped back outside into the village,
The Blue Rose spoke up to congratulate him:
“At last, Thorn! Few had had the courage
Like you to face so many fates so grim,
Fighting forth so oft, and all to salvage
Puzzle-pieces, even when chances be slim!
Come now, let us finally solve this enigma
From what is detailed in the dragons’ quota!”

The saddlebag was opened, and contents spilled
Out onto the sand. First came the Gatekey,
Laid out flat. Next the Janus stones, instilled
Into the Tartarus-Gatekey– one, two, three,
Four, five on the outside. And a sixth filled
The center. The jar, placed near, became antsy.
With the arrangement perfected before the foal,
Thorn read the spell aloud from the scroll:

“I say unto you, Tartarus:
‘Form the Gate, the Ring, Inferno!’
O Celestia, be my Ægis.
Bring me now from High to down Low!”
With words echoing, Tartarus responded thus:
The lightning-jar broke, and Adad did bellow.
The sky darkened, freed of Celestia’s light,
While the ground under Thorn grew bright.

Then a circle of fire surrounded the colt,
As Tartarus’s arms came to retrieve Thorn.
From the sky came a red lightning-bolt!
It struck the Gatekey, and the sand was torn.
The Janus stones lit up from the jolt,
And the ground opened up beneath Thorn.
As the underworld responded to his spell,
Into the bowels of Tartarus Thorn fell!

Canto VIII

No longer was Celestia the foal’s custodian
As he fell further, deeper within the black Pit.
At last, the final leg of his journey had begun–
None shall ever again after see Quivett.
Thorn fell nonstop– for Tartarus was barren,
No obstructions existed within the dark Pit.
Then Thorn hit the ground with a spasm–
This was Tartarus, the Infinite Chasm!

Thorn got onto his hooves after the long fall.
The ground itself gave the only light.
He looked about– to three sides was a wall.
The only way out was to his right.
Thorn started– but whose gnarl did befall?
Cerberus, the Guard– Thorn was in his sight!
Tânadain was summoned, but the guard fled.
Seeing no danger, it was put away instead.

A winding path led from where he was
To another platform– a path perfectly clear.
Thorn walked along this path without a pause–
With the way so clean, he had no fear.
Or perhaps the real danger lay close? Because
An empty path meant that danger was near.
There he was, intruding into a place so private–
This was the lair of the monster named Quivett!

Once he arrived, he looked for the monster–
The trouble was, he was nowhere to be seen!
Here was a large flat area, sized about an acre,
And yet, its emptiness could not be foreseen.
Quivett, clearly, was not here– if he were,
Defeating him Tânadain would be too keen.
“Quivett!” shouted Thorn. “Show yourself!”
Still, noöne was there other than himself.

Thorn turned around to go back on the path,
But then stopped– for the path wasn’t there!
Gone, without noise– what, pray tell, hath
Discord done to it? Why doth he even dare?
Was he Quivett? Did Thorn face the wrath
Of the greatest trickster? He became aware
That something else had disappeared too–
He checked his sack– ’twas the Rose so Blue!

Malicious laughter echœd through the chamber.
“Indeed,” said a deep voice, “what of it?
I saw thee, little Thorn, and thy many a labor.
But what obligation to present have I to admit?
Words can cut as sharp as the keenest saber.
Their pains– thoughtest thou I was the culprit?
Honestly, Thorn, thou art too quick to believe
That which thou wishest to be true– so naïve!

“All too often, they are their own forthbringers
Of their doom. The dragons like to think
That their Lord Gurun, with his loyal archers
And his sword Tânadain, carvedth a chink
Into mine heart. Why, this thought bordereth
Upon nonsense, inducedth by a cachaça drink!
By raiding villages of gilded treasure, they
Further bring troubles of vengeance one day!”

Thorn looked about for the voice’s source.
“Nay!” he objected. “That is not correct!
Retract your statements!” “But of course,”
Replied Quivett. “Allowest me to be direct:
Why trust one thou only acquainted’st by force
Of another?” “Who?” “Who dost thou expect?
Here is thy comrade.” For the briefest moment,
There was the Blue Rose– then it was absent!

“Hast thou lost hope yet? Thou shouldest!
Noöne who hadth come forth to face me
Hadth ever left– permanence, not as a guest!
There was a reason that the Tartarus Gatekey
Had not been invoked in any other quest
Before now.” So Thorn replied, “Obviously,
Only the dragons before knew of its power–
Then they told me. Now we meet this hour!”

“Aye,” Quivett acceded, “but what’s the point?
Thou sayest thou wantest to fight, but how?”
“’Tis simple,” replied Thorn. “I shall appoint
Tânadain to your end. You shall fall! Now!
I made a vow, and I shall not disappoint!”
But only Quivett’s laughter answered his vow.
“Dost thou not see, Thorn? I am naught!
Or, to be more precise– I am a thought!”

’Twas these statements alone that made Thorn
Coil back. “What! You’re not serious!”
He cried. Tânadain was then suddenly borne
In Thorn’s hoof. But it did not light! Thus
Any ensuing fight would be only forlorn.
Thorn had altogether lost Tânadain’s auspice!
“None can stand in your way when it is used,
If, when it is drawn, fighting is not refused.”

These were the dragon’s words echoing.
Then that voice melted into that of Quivett:
“Thorn, that ought to have been thy knowing!
Why hast thou made said warning go quiet?
As I’ve said, I’m immaterial, never showing
Myself to anyone. Thou oughtest to quit!
Lay down Tânadain (it hath served thee well),
And I shall lock up thee in thy new cell!”

Thorn laid it down not; it was simply sheathed.
“You frighten me not!” he said. “I shall not
Bow to you!” His words’ echoing wreathed
Around Tartarus. Then he heard a familiar lot:
“Quiet now! Do you hear?” the voice breathed.
This was the Windigo’s Coven that he fought!
Had they returned from the void of Nihilia?
That’d be a riddle worth the mind of Celestia!

Tânadain came forth– wholly lit up, this time.
Gust, Gale, Hail, and Frost came forth again.
“You? Thorn?” said Gust. “Here in this clime?
Come now, sisters, let us give him our pain!”
In that instant, the ground was covered in rime.
“Your marbles!” shouted Frost. “Your game!”
Thorn slipped and slid upon his lost marbles,
Falling forward, causing the sisters’ chortles.

“You were to be no more!” shouted the colt.
He struggled to get back upon his stance.
Tânadain’s flames gave the sisterhood a jolt,
But their staffs knew to give him no chance.
They charged forth at once, making him bolt
Briefly– then Tânadain held off like a lance.
But then the sword lost its iron grip–
And all four staffs plunged into Thorn’s hip!

Then, just as quickly, they had disappeared.
Quivett then told the story behind the Craven:
“Always to the cold the sisters adhered–
They took pride in their land so life-shaven!
Who melted their land? Just as I feared:
Those gold-hungry dragons are guilty of arson!
’Twas natural of them to seek their vengeance–
Even if they need to travel at a great distance!”

Another voice rang: “What! A mere foal I see?”
Thorn had heard such a gravelly timber before:
It was the source of the Tartarus-Gatekey!
Captain Grizzle had just now washed ashore!
His sword was drawn. “Thorn, have at thee!
I shall regain what was lost to me once more!”
Tânadain was summoned forth for the fight.
Then they charged forth– wrong against right!

Swords locked tightly against one another!
Now Thorn found Grizzle was truly brutal
In his advances– not even Tânadain was abler!
He hopped over Grizzle’s hard swings, agile
On his hooves– and ducked as it went over
His head! But every advance he was able
To make, was blocked by Grizzle. Futility–
That could not be overcome by his agility!

Just before the fateful strike, Grizzle vanished.
“Grizzle told thee,” said Quivett, “did he not?
He only seeked to do what Grover wished!
Were other nations in thy mind not bethought?
You see, Gryphonstone would be finished
Were it not for its successful trading-lot!
Clearly, money pooleth; it doth not trickle.
Rising and falling– Fortune’s favor is fickle!

“Recognize this one?” “Grendel, come quick!”
Thorn’s head turned in that direction–
Then they were upon him, hitting like a brick!
Grendel and Grøß had him in a net spun!
The stench of a prison nigh made Thorn sick.
“It’s over, Thorn!” Grøß said. “You cannot run!
You’ll be sold at market before you know it–
Who knows? Your buyer might be Quivett!”

Thorn faced an auction– where so many bits
Were offered. “A hard-working earth foal?”
Said one. “I shall buy him! A thousand bits!”
“Nay!” said another. “I’ll offer a bigger toll:
Double what he offers– two thousand bits!”
“C’mon, Thorn,” said Grendel. “Our goal
Is ten thousand at least. Oy! Do a trick!
Show them something fantastic– not basic!”

And then, just like that!– they were gone.
“Stop!” begged Thorn. “What do you want?”
“Thou art finished?” said he. “But I’ven’t won!
Not yet! Thy deeds must further thee haunt!
Grøß was once Grover’s most trusted one–
Caught stealing money, he was told ‘Avaunt!’
Grendel was desperate, picking in the street–
The two rovers were fated one day to meet!

“Now listen carefully– what dost thou hear?”
“Lord Fenrir demands from us another ton!”
Again a shiver in Thorn’s spine– out of fear!
He then glanced up– just in time to run!
Boulders tumbling– Geri and Freki were here!
Thorn dodged the boulders, but not the action!
He instantly was chained, and put to the labor–
Tânadain couldn’t slice through iron so bitter!

The cruel axhandle dug itself into Thorn’s jaw–
He swung it, burying the blade into the earth.
It yielded naught. By Geri and Freki’s law,
This earned him a whip for the null worth.
Thorn cried out. Another swing– then he saw
That his chains tightened around his girth.
“Work faster!” shouted Geri. “We have not
All day!” Thorn against the chains fought!

Iron so hard and so crushing then dissolved–
“Geri, Freki,” said Quivett– “what of their past?
Once, a problem they thought they solved:
A new method, to extract diamonds so fast!
But Lord Fenrir knew not of what it involved:
An army of the young, working to their last.
But they knew no wrong, they are blameless.
Perspective should be thy thoughts’ basis!”

The next of his memories was then presented.
It was recent: “Hussárs! Move forth! Attack!”
Suddenly, Thorn was caught in a fire-flood!
Why, the sword Tânadain had turned its back
On Thorn! “Tânadain! But why?” he shouted.
“This,” said Grogar’s voice, “is for your lack
Of consideration for those lesser than thee–
Now pick up Tânadain, foal– and face me!”

Sans his horns, the old goat had his blades
Wielded nonetheless– two against one,
The way Grogar preferred in his raids.
E’en against Tânadain, he’ll soon have won.
The sword was locked, and the other bade
Thorn a surrender– a colt against a bedouin.
One blade made Thorn and Tânadain apart,
As the other blade plunged for Thorn’s heart!

Before that could happen, all was naught.
“There!” said Quivett. “Hast thou no mercy?
Hath burning agony ever entered thy thought?
To them, flames were all that they could see.
Their wings burnt so, Tânadain was that hot.
That fight was unfair too; that anyone can see.
Remorse, Thorn! Remorse ought to be all
That thou feelest now– what an evil gall!”

Now Thorn could barely find the strength
Needed to stand up– O, how he did ache!
He struggled to reach the iron-forg’d length,
Tânadain, but more words he did intake:
“But I ask thee, I reiterate, maintain strength,
Or something evil will find thee, like a snake!”
Why, his mother spoke these in the Everfree,
Long before he met his mæstro by the tree.

Suddenly, he felt the ground beneath him lurch!
He looked down, and saw a long serpentine
Coil– with its grip around the stony perch!
Thorn stayed put– he found himself between
Scylla and Charybdis– thus he did search
Frantically for Tânadain, for its fiery sheen!
A dark shadow then loomed over Thorn.
The coil tightened– and the perch was torn!

At last, Quivett had chosen himself to show
As a fierce, giant, fanged, ten-eyed Basilisk!
His mouth gaping open, his fiery eyes aglow,
Fixt upon the center of the Tartarus obelisk.
This challenge was Thorn’s greatest thrœ!
Could Tânadain protect against such risk?
Thorn grabbed the sword– the hilt fathomed
By his hoof– and again the blade blossomed!

Quivett lunged forth, fangs pointing at Thorn.
Thorn leapt up, swung, and then Tânadain
Like many times before carried him airborne
Over Quivett’s head. Then fire did rain
Down upon the Basilisk. On flames wore
Upon his flesh, bringing him great pain.
Quivett’s coil convulsed, and the platform
Ultimately crumbled in the firestorm.

With eyes ten, it was hard for Thorn to escape
Quivett’s stare. The Basilisk always saw him,
And struck whenever he can. Thorn’s nape
Was nigh pierced by a fang, but a turn so slim
Saved his life. Then Tartarus’ landscape
Turned thorny, and the scent of stone of brim
Permeated the Pit. Thorn glanced off the tail
Of the Basilisk. Tânadain struck without fail!

Quivett cried out– O! What pain he was in!
He went blind on his left side. And just as so:
Thorn descended on that side. By the skin
Of Thorn’s teeth, Tânadain avoided the row
Of thorns beneath. Then, with a sly grin,
Thorn saw what opportunity this did bestow.
Tânadain glanced off of the thorny vine,
Went around the Basilisk, and went to the spine.

Fire pierced scales! And Thorn dragged down
The blade, to reveal Quivett’s vulnerability.
The foal found himself hanging facedown,
Staring down the Pit– hanging on– just barely!
He saw how Tânadain by them was renown:
A blade such as this could fall any army!
Gathering momentum, like a rolling stream,
Thorn swung himself back up, like in a dream!

“Think you that you can stop me?” he asked.
“I think not! You speak of so much evil,
Never recognizing what good may be masked!
It’s you who needs to look at another angle!
Now,” said he, “I shall do what I was tasked:
Put an end to you– no matter what battle!”
He leapt up, and with a strike so fine,
Slammed Quivett’s face into the vine!

Now Quivett found that he was wholly blind!
“I hate thee!” he screeched, with new anger.
He opened his wide maw, and with refin’d
Fangs, disproved Thorn’s claim to be stronger!
Thorn thought that he would lose his mind–
But, then, that dragon-seal he forgot no longer!
Thorn pulled out what he once did conceal,
And crushed it in his hooves, breaking the seal.

A heavenly light opened up overhead–
The dragons! They had answered his cry!
He saw an alliance that had went unsaid–
’Twixt them, the gryphons, and the pegasi!
The dragons opened with fire-breath so red.
The gryphons around and around did fly.
The pegasi brought with them their weather.
They were resolute to save Thorn together!

Fog the Pegasi brought not, but fog anyway
Concealed Thorn from Quivett’s glance.
“Brother Thorn! Art thou injured? Nay?”
Asked one dragon, wishing no mischance.
“I am well. . . .” Thorn’s world turned gray,
And Hypnos from Tartarus him did manse.
That dragon gathered Thorn and the sword,
And carried them upward aloft to Asgård.

With a new friendship binding them all,
The Basilisk stood no chance against them.
With him wholly blinded, the following brawl
Was decisive, and was carried out ibidem.
After the fight, Quivett would ultimately fall
To the alliance. After the great mayhem,
The Blue Rose was found within the rubble–
Unharmed, it somehow survived the trouble.

Canto IX

When Thorn awoke from his long slumber,
He found he didn’t recognize where he was.
It was a small room, cobbled from lumber–
Was this a ship? Or really Quivett’s jaws?
What was going on? Who dared to cumber?
Thorn saw his torso, then wrapped in gauze–
Covering a secret injury, stained with his life.
Thorn had to question– was this the Afterlife?

He glanced at the window to the outside–
This was no Afterlife, this was an airship!
High over Equestria, on yet another ride
To a place unknown. Why another trip?
Had Quivett’s defeat really been denied?
But he saw that alliance, that friendship
Between the dragons, gryphons, and pegasi–
Was there more than what met Thorn’s eye?

Fate answered him yes, take a look around.
Thorn noted the oak-clad deck holding all
Some angels two over the distant ground–
Built sturdily, so that none shall ever fall.
More questions than answers Thorn found:
What mystery was this? Then, up on a wall,
He saw a painting, depicting a zebra-herd.
They stood where an airship was anchor’d.

Then he realized something went missing.
He checked his side– Tânadain was gone!
The sword of which the dragons did sing–
Lost forever, like the rose-red fingers of Dawn?
From outside, Thorn heard someone voicing
Something odd: “He’s naught but a peon.”
And another: “What! Doth it even matter?”
Thorn went to investigate such chatter.

He opened the door, and on the deck found
A dragon and a gryphon in conversation.
The dragon turned. “What! Safe and sound!”
Said he. “We thought you lost to your nation!”
“Pray tell, what happened at the battleground?”
Asked Thorn. The dragon said of the location:
“With your vital help, Quivett is no more.
Now all is as splendorous as all was before!”

Thorn asked, “On what ship travel I now?”
“The Mawingu doth travel on this airway!”
These words were heard from the ship’s bow.
The captain stepped forth, furred white as day,
And black as night, striped– pray tell, how?
This captain hailed from faraway Zebrabwe.
“Hail!” said the captain. “I am called Ilifu,
Captain of this vessel– what about you?”

“I am Thorn,” he replied, “a hero to many–
Have you not heard of the slaying of Quivett?
The dragons tasked me to slay a fœ so beastly.
So I descended into Tartarus, the black Pit.
The monster, though– he tried to convince me
That he was not the dragons’ troubles’ culprit.
He had failed, obviously, that much is so–
Thus, I am here. –I thought you would know!”

“This news had not yet reached the furthest
Corner of Equestria,” said the gryphon.
“Once we land, there shall be the greatest
Celebration that can be had by anyone.”
Now, Pinkie Pie, the time for a feast is fittest.
Come and join them in such festive fun!
“After the fight,” said Ilifu, “the dragons say
That this was dropped– which I now display.”

What he showed was Thorn’s greatest surprise–
The Blue Rose! It withstood the war intact,
And had been recovered by his allies!
“You survived the fight?” Thorn asked the fact.
“That is correct,” it said. “But do you realize
That you have extended your original pact?
’Tis not dragons only anymore, but the pegasi
And the gryphons.” Thorn asked, “But why?

“My guide told me it was only to be between
I and the dragons– and you too are entangled?
Such an alliance ’twixt three was unforeseen!”
“You speak malice of this, Thorn,” it chuckled.
“Why don’t you want the three to intervene?
All it meant was that assistance was tripled!
Come, let them recount the myriad of ways
That you’ve helped them. –Sing him praise!”

The dragon started, “Four days and nights
Ago, you ventured forth into Dragon-Lands.
Since then, you’ve waged the fiercest fights
With Tânadain, and with the dragon-bands.
We see you as one of our honorary knights
For your noble task in the Tartarus-badlands.
Quivett was a formidable fœ when faced alone.
He dissolved when you pierced to the bone!

“That test you faced, when first you came?
There has been talk amongst us to abolish such!
Once a thing of honor, we now see the shame
Of misjudging one if his strength was not much.
Each has their skills and flaws to their name;
United, an ally proves itself to be a nonesuch!
If any newcomer wants to make us better,
Show us what they have, and we’ll consider.”

A pegasus continued, “When us you did visit
In Cloudsdale, we naturally assumed the worst.
We’ve had dragons before in our time visit,
But an earth-pony colt? That was a first!
We saw you outside standing on a cloudlet,
And, naturally, we thought you to be curs’d!
We’d enough trouble with the Windigo-Craven
Coming to Cloudsdale, calling it their haven!

“But you? Ah, but you were a different case:
You had a sword by your side, and some allies
To your back. And so we tried to give chase.
But we were stopped by dragons in the skies.
You made the Craven disappear sans trace–
Freeing us– and that was when we did realize
That you were not a villain, but in fact a hero–
And so were you, dragons– I say, cheerio!”

“If I may?” asked Ilifu. Thorn so permitted.
“I’ve heard of pirates ravaging over the seas.
They’ll strike anyone, whether alone or aided.
Fogbow told me of how Grizzle tried to seize
The Halcyone’s cargo. However, you acted
To save the ship– and, if I recall, with ease.
No ship would be complete without her jack–
Nor, I shall add, with her Thorn at her back!

“If ever I need to cross the sky over the water,
I’ll think of noöne else but you for security!
You and the sword– What did you call her?–
Tânadain! Aye! With that, you’d be able to free
Us from the stranglehold of any pirate boarder!
To my destination you shall be able to see me!
Through me, Captain Fogbow sends his regards
To the greatest of all of Equestria’s guards!”

The gryphon continued, “We saw such bravery
In Gryphonstone’s streets three nights ago.
Even for us, Grøß and Grendel are too tricky
To find and to capture. But you, though?
Ah, but you proved to be as sly as can be!
For finding them, this was what gryphons owe!
As a master of trade, I say this was one of fate:
We returned what you gave– a deed so great!

“Grøß and Grendel now rot in a damp prison,
Under the close, roving eye of King Grover!
Quite like the conditions that his young one,
Gesiþe, related to him– stuck there forever!
With skill such as yours, you’ve already won
From your quest’s start, as warrior rover!
Thorn, I declare that you are destined for this:
Great things you shall do– never to be remiss!”

Again the pegasus spoke: “Our families grieved
When our children were lost into the world.
When that ship came that day, we were relieved
That the diamond-dogs’ plans had unfurl’d.
With deeds so many, our fates are interleaved,
One into the other– a cloth knitted and purl’d.
You assisted us, and then we so assisted you–
Shall this be a Hearth’s Warming tale so new?

“I heard that the others shall remain alone.
But if what they say shall turn out to be true,
Then, bless them!, the unicorns sit on a throne
Worthy of Celestia through and through.
Canterlot shall be the greatest city known!
The earth ponies– they shall strike a new
Wealth, greater than any could grapple:
A rich, prosperous soil fit for any apple!”

Ilifu then spoke again: “When last I had sailed
Over Saddle-Arabia, I saw with mine own eyes
That the sands of the desert below were veiled
With great dark clouds pouring from the skies.
Then a flash of red, and my sails nearly failed
To catch the current. That’s when I did realize
That the gates to Tartarus had been opened–
‘That Gatekey? Activated?’ I was stunned!

“Then I heard news from a passing ship:
That the bandit Grogar nearly robbed them
Of their stores, but out of a nearby township,
Their passenger, you, came and saved them
From certain doom. Such a divine partnership
Between colt and iron! What a sacred hem
Is sewn betwixt you! Grogar stood no chance
Against you and Tânadain in the circumstance!”

“I confirm this,” the gryphon said once more.
“I was aboard when those events took place.
Grogar’s prowess had us on the sealess shore!
But Thorn came back for us, so giving chase
Against the bandit. Thorn, in the ensuing war,
Cut off the horns, shattering him like a vase!
What a coward was Grogar, without his horns.
By far, worse than the weakest of unicorns!

“The Hussár-swarm– that was far worse
Than Grogar– small, yes, but quite powerful!
They see and think as quick as they asperse
Through a ship’s decks, from hull to hull!
But, somehow, you overcame that curse!
(We’ll know to use fire on them in battle.)
Then we were told to leave. Gladly we did!
Upon this terrible misadventure we put a lid!”

The dragon finished their speech, like so:
“We were growing more and more impatient.
Had Quivett fallen? We thought you slow!
For the last four days, you had been absent!
The seal broke, since our bodies did glow
With anticipation of battle in your hunt!
We saw the portal open in Saddle-Arabia.
We traveled in, leaving behind Equestria.

“What a ferocious, fierce fœ you engaged!
Quivett was as tough and strong as we feared.
He was somehow blinded– definitely enraged,
Because towards a mortal being he appeared.
With us three together, on war was waged
Against the monster. Still was his end neared;
You did the bulk of the work, young foal.
You had played the most important role!”

“I greatly thank you all for your kind words,”
Said Thorn. “But really, do I get all credit?
I’m just one mere pawn moving forwards.
It was you lot that had defeated Quivett!
I’m naught but one of the earth-pony herds.
Your grand deeds I shall not let you omit!”
Applejack, pray tell, do you hear of this?
Honest humility– that you should not miss!

The Blue Rose spoke again, of more news:
“Those aren’t all who have praise to sing.
Come, their voices you should not refuse.
What joyous lyrics these two do bring!
Friendship is the greatest of many values.
Now hear this from a lord and a king!”
Two beings appeared, and Thorn saw
Lord Gurun and King Grover. Such awe!

Grover started: “Hero Thorn, when I had her,
My daughter Gesiþe, again, she named you,
An earth foal with a fire sword, as her savior.
For this, five million bits seemed but so few!
Œnomel streams shall flow forth in thy honor
For thy work in Grøß and Grendel’s coup!
Quivett’s fall again proved thy noble talent.
I’ll think of thee first to go to the battlefront!”

Gurun then said, “Had Tânadain done well?
That would be my blessing, young pony-child!
Only wise words could break my lava-spell.
In battle, thou hadst proven not to be mild.
Great warriors come and go– who can tell?
But their memories live on.” He then smil’d.
“Thorn, thou art the best that I have ever seen.
I can never think of one better to intervene!”

The two then faded away into nothingness.
Ilifu looked outward to the clear blue sky.
“There!” he declared. “There’s a bareness
In yonder Everfree. To there we shall fly!”
Once they reached it– thank the Princesses!–
A large piece of ground Mawingu did occupy.
The tethers were deployed around the hull.
Afterwards, off the ship everyone did amble.

The following festival was one to remember:
“A toast,” said a dragon, “to the friendship
Between all beings of Equestria– for-ever!”
Thorn then raised his goblet up to his lip,
Drank the contents down– no time better
Than then– the very final leg of Thorn’s trip!
But when Thorn set down his gilded chalice,
He heard his bloomed guardian start to fuss.

“What is it, master?” Thorn had to inquire.
But its reply sounded weak, somber, and grim:
“Thorn, the time has come. You I now require
To deposit me within the forest. I have no vim.
This journey is over; wisdom you did acquire
From the four corners of Equestria passim.”
“Wait!” said he. “There’s still so much more!
Teach me of your grand ways, I do implore!”

To Thorn’s shock, the flower went silent.
But the foal still knew what had to be done.
“Everyone,” he announced, “I must be blunt:
Arawn has dropped on my guide his curtain.
It shall say no more, it is no longer docent.
The end of the end, my friends, has begun.”
The merrymaking had been wholly muted.
As Thorn went on, around him they crowded.

The trees and the ground were freshly wet–
Indicating that a recent rain had come through.
Thorn said, “This bloom I shall never forget:
A teacher so steadfast, and a friend so true.”
“But Thorn! Thou and it have only just met!”
“Yea indeed, though he is the greatest guru,
Anything that has a beginning has also an end;
Nothing one can do can forestall or append.”

Near a familiar fallen tree-limb they halted.
“Here,” declared Thorn, “is where I found
My guide long ago. Here is where it appearèd
Into our existence, without the slightest sound.
And here is where this quest is to be ended.”
Ceremoniously, he planted it into the ground
Between the two stones in front of the oak.
The bloom, seemingly for the last time, spoke:

“May these memories of friendship never die–
What three pony-tribes do, others can follow.
Consider a good comrade a brother, not an ally,
Who’ll stand by you against the strongest fœ,
Who’ll stand with you, looking eye to eye,
And from there, wisdom takes its root to grow.
Never leave each other; rather, stay together,
And your cordial pact will last you forever!”

Once the Blue Rose kept an æternal silence,
Everyone there gave it a solemn, reverent bow.
It then closed its petals, and then its essence
Faded into naught. Noöne still knows how.
Once they were fully aware of its absence,
One by one, they all left to keep their vow.
Then the Everfree started to tear at a seam,
At the moment Thorn awoke from this dream.

Canto X

The next world in which Thorn awoke was real.
It wasn’t the Everfree, nor a ship– he felt lost.
Laying, he tried to stand– dazed he did feel,
So tired, beaten, battered, and tempest-toss’d.
He looked up, and stared into eyes of steel.
He knew that something had Mother cross’d.
“Well, thou art awake,” she coldly berated.
“Pray tell me– is thy vision still e’er-shaded?”

“No,” he answered. “Just fine you I can see.”
“Fortunately– thou couldst have gone blind!”
Came then the town-doctor, a graying donkey
With years of medicinal wisdom in his mind.
“Thou hast been sleeping for long– three-
And-ten hours. Not to leave thee behind,
Thy mother instead returned thee to town,
Arriving at mine home just after sundown.

“Carest thou to explain thyself, young foal?”
“Yes, I will!” said Thorn. “Back in the woods,
Mother and I were trotting through on a stroll
To the next town. I found the finest of goods!
You see, dear Mother– that is why I stole
Away from you. See! It claimed my moods!”
But Thorn got a shock when the doctor spoke:
“That, foal, was naught but poison-joke!

“Thorn, willst thou not listen to thy mother?
Doth she not know what thou walkest into?”
“Do you?” questioned Thorn. “Here’s another:
I saw a Blue Rose! To me, but not to you!”
Neither of them believed him. “O brother!”
Said the doctor. “That flower, of that hue?
Impossible! Those hallucinations and sleeping
Are more akin to those of beleño-poisoning.”

“Hast thou learnt a lesson today, Thorn?”
Asked his mother. “What hast thou learnt?”
Thorn thought hard. “I earlier heard ye warn,
Mother. But after, your words were burnt.
My defiance was why we had been torn.
That, Mother, is what today I have learnt.”
“Correct,” said she. “Thou must be careful
If thou wantest for thy whole life to be joyful.

“Healer, how much is your treatment worth?”
“Only eight bits,” said he. “It was simple.”
Of any logical reasoning Thorn had a dearth–
He saw it all! It was all true! O how cruel
Fate was, to hide this journey from the Earth!
He knew every face, every danger, every battle.
“Come along, Thorn,” said she. “And keep by!
At thine age thou shouldest not need to try!”

They left the doctor’s abode into the street
Of a Celestia-forsaken town: Whispering Oaks.
It was a simple village, without any high élite
To speak of, but consisting of simple folks.
Thorn, after the journey, found it bittersweet
Once more to see his true-to-life town blokes.
He saw plastered walls and a thatched roof,
And the cobble-paved street beneath his hoof.

“Gangway!” somepony shouted. “Move aside!”
Thorn and his mother obeyed the command.
Whom had shouted the order they then eyed:
A chaise-et-quatre, pulled by a pony band.
Whoëver chartered it had too much pride–
Likely somepony who wasn’t from this land.
Thorn’s mother asked, “Dost thou see, Thorn?
Everywhere thou lookest, danger is borne!”

Thorn sighed, then replied, “Yea, Mother, I do.”
With the carriage gone, they continued home.
Despite what he said, Thorn really knew
That, while there is danger on one’s roam,
How to experience, not doing something new?
There they were, at the door of their home.
Unceremoniously, the two went inside–
What unspeakable fate must Thorn abide?

We shall at last be introduced to Thorn’s father.
He had a grim, grave grimace on his face,
Showing his many years’ skill as a farmer.
“So!” he said. “Finished with your goose-chase
This soon?” “Not quite,” said Thorn’s mother.
“We had to turn back and return to this place,
Since Thorn left me and wandered in a patch
Of poison-joke. He almost met his match!”

But instead of lashing out in rage welling under,
He simply sighed. “Well, I have dinner for ye,”
Spoketh he. “Surely you have great hunger.”
Thorn realized it too. For all that time that he
Was in the Everfree, he was not much a wonder
Than before he and she entered the Everfree.
The table was duly set, without much talk
Between them, but the ticking of the clock.

The meal can be considered frugal at best:
Only that which can be grown in their garden.
Whispering Oaks wasn’t afflicted with a pest
Unless isolation can be considered its mien.
They only had enough for three, and no guest.
Even to them, Thorn was a heavy burden.
O Fluttershy, dost thou not see such a thing?
Kindness when they little can be affording!

Whilst eating, his father had the urge to ask:
“Thorn, whatever was it that convinced thee
To wander about aimlessly, despite thy task
To help deliver our produce to Morrígantree?
Poison-joke dons onto its intruders its mask,
To make it hard for those from it to flee.
Pray tell, Thorn, why hast thou strayed
From thy mother– why hast thou not stayed?”

“I’ll tell you,” said Thorn. “All of you I’ll tell!
It started when I saw a sparrow point out
A path for me to take. I, being under its spell,
Had no choice but to follow its shown route.
Think you that mine head is naught but a shell?
Well, when I got there, there wasn’t any doubt
That what I found was the rarest treasure–
Its sight alone gave me a high, great pleasure!”

“Poison-joke!” said his mother. “How oft
Must I say it? Why willst thou not hear?
Poison-joke’s not precious!” Thorn scoff’d.
“Well, perhaps you shall decide to fear
The story of my travels. I shan’t go soft
When I tell you all– I shall make it clear!”
He was so confident– surely he won’t fail!
So Thorn summarily began to tell his tale:

“When I found that flower, it came to life,
And told of a quest for wisdom– for me only!
Said quest was fraught with trouble and strife.
To start, it went to Dragon-Lands with me.
After joining their band, their sharpest knife,
Tânadain, Gurun’s sword, they bestowed me.
A blade like this could be stopped by noöne,
For it contained within the fires of the Sun!”

Said his mother, “Thorn, that was but a dream!
Dragons can accept noöne but their own kin!
This idea of thine is ridiculous in the extreme!”
Said his father, “O Thorn, where shall I begin?
Stop dreaming, thy fate as a farmer is supreme!
To betray the family trade is a horrendous sin!”
Neither believed the words that Thorn said.
But the story, he knew, was far from dead:

“What next I did? I then stopped Cloudsdale
From advancing further into dragon territory.
What a problem they had, and I could not fail!
But in fact, ’twas Cloudsdale that I had to free:
A Windigo-Coven took control of the ice, hail,
Cold, and snow, and were on a freezing-spree.
Stopping them was not easy, but it was done.
Their fragments were melted in the bright Sun.”

“Thorn!” said she. “That’s even less believable!
Cloudsdale cannot fall to some odd intrusion!
If this be thy quest, then thy knowledge is null.”
“Aye,” said his father. “Thou shouldst have run
The first chance thou hadst. This story is full
Of only random, nón sequitur nesció, son!”
They still thought that the legend was a lie.
Thorn decided that he had to aim up high:

“After the coven’s fall, I asked that they
Take me to Gryphonstone, for there I knew
That a red Janus stone will open the way
To Tartarus. A storm we travelled through,
And we saw gryphon pirates on the skies’ lay.
They wanted to rob us– and I did, too.
But only I succeeded, for Captain Grizzle
Fought me with what may as well be a chisel.”

“Pirates?” asked his mother. “Sailing the sky?
Thorn, I command, cease with thy dishonesty!
This story, I say again, is naught but a lie!”
“Celestia’s decree made all piracy history,”
Said his father. “’Tis impossible to defy!
Thou remainedst on the ground, we all agree!”
Perhaps this grandiose fight cannot convince?
Thorn tried something that happened since:

“Come next morn, I was in Gryphonstone.
I saw that a gryphon, Grøß, was wanted;
The reward would easily cover the stone!
For him through the darkest alley I hunted,
But he was hunting me, and wasn’t alone;
Grendel was with him. I was capturèd!
But I freed myself and brought them in,
And freed Gesiþe, King Grover’s kin!”

“I know naught of the gryphon’s culture,”
Said she. “But I am most certain of this:
Than thee Grover’s guards are much abler!”
“He would have noticed something amiss,”
Said his father, “and went searching for her.
Grover, I’ll tell you, is anything but remiss!”
This was getting frustrating for Thorn’s mind.
Perhaps truth in their homeland they’ll find?

“Next I chartered another ship to Canterlot,
To their crystal mines, to search for another:
Coin, whose freedom I had also wrought,
Was searching every land for her dear sister.
We found her owned by a diamond-dog lot.
I took to battle with them, in furious anger.
After, all were freed. Some then decided
That a city of Canterlot ought to be created.”

“Now thou knowest that’s fantastic,” said she.
“That was not how Canterlot was made.
Princess Celestia commissioned that city.”
Added his father, “There was no crystal trade.
Canterlot had no mines– this anyone can see.
The noble truth, Thorn, thou must not evade!”
Very well. But what of real wisdom’s domain?
Thorn knew that this story shall not be in vain.

“Not long after, to Saddle-Arabia I travelled.
There was a library standing ’midst the desert.
Its village was silent, which had me baffled–
Then I saw that it was a lone bandit’s effort.
At the ship, him and the Hussárs I battled–
Right trumping Wrong– this fact I did assert.
After, I returned, and acquired a new spell,
And with it, I went into the Tartarus-well.”

“Saddle-Arabia?” said she. “That’s impossible!
And to travel into Tartarus– that’s e’en more so!
Both of these places are wholly unreachable!”
“Besides,” added his father, “even I’d know
That a village in Saddle-Arabia is unthinkable.
They are nomads, travelling a sandy plateau.”
So resistant– and so clouded with blindness!
Thorn decided to take it below the surface:

“There I met a shapeless being, or a thought:
‘Quivett’ was his name, and his ultimate goal,
Apparently, was to render Equestria naught.
I had to stop him. But he tormented my soul,
Showing what ‘wrong’ deeds I had wrought.
What, you might ask, could I do as a foal?
I crushed a red seal, and so I did forthbring
Dragons, gryphons, and pegasi to my aiding!”

“Thorn, is that the end of thy fantastic tale?”
Asked she. “Because I can never believe
That one can fight what leaves no trail!”
“What alliance, too, didst thou achieve?”
Asked his father. “Such a thing shall fail–
How soon each other shall they leave?”
Due of this story the family began to rend,
But Thorn was close to reaching the end.

“After the battle, I fell into the deepest kip–
But what choice had I, after a long spree?
I woke up on a zebra-captained airship.
She was sailing to the Forest Everfree.
There, all confessed their mutual friendship,
And vowed never to divide those three.
They had me to thank. But true to my fear,
My quest was over– then I woke up here.”

Mother said, “Well, I should be glad it’s over.
Thou takest excess credit, thou didst nothing!
That ‘quest’ was like that of a drunk rover!”
“What savedth thee? No truth didst thou bring!”
Said his father. “Not even a four-leaf clover!
Thou art naught but a peon, not some king!
Off! Fie! Hasten, and get thee to thy bed
Until thou hast this Truth within thine head!”

“Very well!” thundered Thorn. “Be that way!”
He summarily retired into his bedroom.
Thorn was furious– such a grand tale that they
Would not believe! All from a precious bloom!
No matter what he did, he could never sway
Their judgement– even if it meant their doom!
Thorn tried to formulate a counterargument
To use against two unfair parents so arrogant.

But the more Thorn thought about it all,
The more he concluded that they were right.
Their reasoning for discipline was not so small,
So what reason had he with them to fight?
That was what Thorn decided in his dark stall
While looking at a garden darkened by night.
Thorn stared into the night– O! Forsooth,
There was a beauty perceptible only by youth.

Luna’s moonlight bathed all in a cool glow,
Revealing a world unknown to Celestia’s Sun:
A period where Time itself starts to be slow,
Where One is Many, and too, Many is One.
The earth may be baked dry or frozen in snow,
But this precious moment naught should shun.
Thorn sighed at the sight so tranquil and serene,
How long was it when last he saw this scene?

Then the night’s winged phantom forthcame!
Thorn couldn’t believe that which was before:
Not only a sparrow, but now an owl so tame
Had approached him, on the nocturnal shore.
It had with it a scroll bearing Thorn’s name,
Meant for him. It was dropped on the floor.
Then the owl flew off again, never to return,
Leaving Thorn alone with much mæ to learn.

Gingerly, he picked up the message unbidden.
It had a blue bull-seal holding the scroll shut,
Further secured by a strand of green ribbon.
“Thorn”, it said simply on the seal’s one facet.
’Twas a style used by the Princess of the Sun.
Odd that somepony else would use it– what?
The message levitated out of Thorn’s forelimb!
Unfurling itself, the scroll then spoke to him:

“Fear me not, Thorn, for I am no stranger.
We’ve met before, in the Everfree Forest.
Keep reading, listening, there is no danger.
You are not done, so please don’t yet rest.
Friends always start by finding a stranger,
Putting some faith into him, as a small test.
Whoëver passes it, be by his side always.
Whoëver dœsn’t, just forever part ways.

“Your parents caution against the unknown?
That may be so, but you have to remember
That you needn’t face the world alone.
Friends are allies, so, I say, stick together,
So if some danger chills you to the bone,
A comrade comes such a threat to answer.
Go forth! Boldly! Let naught hold you back,
Be it a dragon, a gryphon, or even a yak.

“That grand story you told to your parents?
That was all true, sure as cabriolet.
You did all that, caused to occur those events,
From receiving Tânadain to defeating Quivett.
You travelled everywhere to all environments,
From Heaven high to the low Tartarus pit.
They’ll soon know, when the news reaches
Whispering Oaks. It’ll live for coming ages!

“Yes, you held Tânadain within your hoof.
Yes, Cloudsdale had been to Dragon-Lands.
Yes, you travelled high upon the sky’s roof.
Yes, you even assisted the gryphon-bands.
Of Canterlot’s liberation there is now proof,
And Tartarus below Saddle-Arabian sands,
Yes, it all happened! Thorn, it was all you!
Don’t think what happened was worth so few!

“Why didn’t your parents know the truth?
Because they fear the unknown too much.
They much rather stay away from their ruth,
And they have elected to be farmers as such.
Nothing comes close to the mind of a youth–
They can bring to life whatever they touch!
Imagination is one’s most powerful weapon–
Using it, one can be stopped by none!”

Thorn questioned, “But has what I done
Any consequence? I fear they may be right.
What worth am I? I am a farmer’s sole son,
Who flees from the slightest threat’s sight.”
It said, “Such thoughts make you undone.
Weak as you seem, you can still win a fight!
Now have patience, I’ve still yet to finish.
So listen, and any self-doubt I shall banish!

“It’s been said that all ponies have a purpose,
From the Princesses of the Sun and Moon,
To the farmer forming Equestria’s basis,
Whose contribution is fully ready in June.
Thus, to say that one is in life wholly useless
Is an outright lie. You, Thorn, shall see soon
That your purpose is not what they think–
You are a wise adventurer, not a low fink!

“But have patience, Thorn. A larger journey
Shall start, and you will be leading it on!
From the Gryphon Highlands to the vast sea,
From the highest king to the humblest peon,
You are tasked with friendship’s guarantee
To see that xenophobia is forevermore gone.
This will be a lifelong journey, from morn
To dusk. This will be your purpose, Thorn!

“May Princess Celestia, of Moon and Sun,
Issue a Decree proclaiming your knowledge.
May it be heard from high Canterlot Mountain:
‘To this Act I, Princess Celestia, give Passage:
Equestria’s tribes shall never become balkan.’
Thus your future quest can carry its voyage.
With royal security, I can see not one reason
How the journey shall fail in any given season.

“May the unicorns of the distant seashore
Be endowed with the blessings of safe faring.
All the sea-covered world may they explore,
At every port may your words they be sharing.
May they attract a world audience, and more,
Into Medusa’s eyes may they never be staring.
May Galene be their patron for all their life,
And entirely circumvent the ocean-sea’s strife.

“May the pegasi help with your endeavor,
To carry your divine messages on high,
So all Equestria hears, and may they never
Falter for a moment as a well-trusted ally.
Let it rain down along with snow in winter,
In words and voices that they cannot deny.
May it seep into Equestria’s fertile ground,
And from there may your Truth be found.

“May the earth ponies of the whole land
Harvest such noble Truth from their yield.
May they communicate the revelations, and
May they strive to find more from the field.
From the lowest valley up to the highland,
May your teachings to them be revealed,
Then spread around, as water in a dish–
And may these grand words they cherish!

“May the Dragon-bands of their land so dry
Take such words ultimately to their heart.
As hard as it may be for them, may they try
To accept that solidarity is not the true art.
Who knows? Maybe they someday apply
This knowledge– then may Providence impart
A more solid ground, and an end to their greed.
To stop their raids– that is what we all need!

“May the city of Gryphonstone help you see
Your vision realized in their trade-markets.
Gold slips through their claws so very easily;
May those words be treated akin to those bits.
May they hear the words from o’er the sea,
And then, may they reap from its benefits.
‘Knowledge is Power’, as the phrase is oft said.
May they have said power for the road ahead.

“May we see a new Dawn of true wisdom born,
For power meant, to be kept in mind forever.
Coming up with the Sun, with Celestia’s morn,
And its sunset, sky of red, may it come never.
May the very first step be taken by ye, Thorn,
And may you not suffer a betrayal soëver.”
Such proposed loyalty! Pray, Rainbow Dash,
Safeguard it all, so that they may never clash.

Thorn spoke again. “And this second quest?
It is best accomplished by one with power!
What makes ye think to do this I’m best?”
“Because,” came the reply, “in this hour,
We approach a new era. Consider this a test
For Equestria to pass. You may be a plower,
But you have seen the life at every angle!
Every part of Equestria should entangle!

“I must close soon, but you know what to do:
Come next Celestia’s morn, sit down and write
All that you have seen and heard to be true.
Into the darkness of Ignorance shed a light,
Pierce the veil, so that this shall not continue.
Pen and parchment beats a sword in any fight.
Walk into the world, make all your fellows–
–Signed, Yours Very Truly, The Blue Rose.”

The scroll rolled itself up, and then resealed,
Dropping onto the floor before Thorn.
“So it shall be,” he said aloud to the field.
“Come tomorrow, I shall do as I was sworn!
My pen, as Tânadain, shall conquer any shield
Of misoxeny; asunder misoxeny shall be torn!
My farm-life– may it be altogether forsaken,
For this is the one true path that I have taken!

“If our press choose not to take what I offer,
Then another town’s shall! I shan’t be supprest!
All of Equestria shall know that I am its author,
And learn from my writings! And I shan’t rest
Until every hearth be warmed forever after–
Until every tribe be a part of my divine quest!
Noöne will be exempt from what I have to say,
And noöne shall dare to stand within my way!

“Come now, and let me take a needed leave
For the night. I’ve much o’er which to ruminate
And on which to compose after this eve!
In the whole of my quest I have seen much hate,
But Equestria can learn from it all, I believe.
Tomorrow!– that codex for the ages doth await.
But now. . . ,” his eyes grew heavy, “I must go
To my sleep. Forsooth! for I feel so slow. . . .”

O, but Thorn spoke too soon, for right then
A bright blue halo surrounded his whole being.
Thorn wondered– had his quest started again?
All around hisself he felt some odd aching–
Then, as quickly as it was, it was not again.
His eyes blinked hard; that light was blinding.
This sudden, fantastic wonder Thorn did stump.
For an answer, his eyes drifted to his rump.

–Could it be? –Was it actually there?
Thorn blinked once and twice and thrice. –Yes!
What a blessèd mark was burnt into his hair!
A representation of his journey he did possess!
Even at night, Thorn couldn’t help but stare–
’Twas the Blue Rose! What Joy did he express!
Wise Thorn was no blank-flank any longer.
There– a new mark!– and he was its bearer.

No longer, Calliope! –I beg of ye, no more!
I shall continue not; Thorn’s tale ends here!
The flower shall remain on the verdant shore,
Protected there entirely by the ponies’ fear–
Just barely out of reach of civilization’s door.
Its status as legend and lore, undeniably clear.
Now I believe I changed the crowd’s attitude;
So, princesses, you have my æternal gratitude.

Thorn’s journey lasted for four short days,
But during such it has encompassed æternity.
Thorn was not the first– let this point raise–
Others came before him, also leaving in amity.
This tale penetrates the span of Cronus’s gaze,
Despite the quest going only through anteriority.
The morals told here can be applied to posterity,
So that they might conquer any ethical verity.

To advise ye, honorable Twilight, I speak this:
Welcome whomever new enters your domain,
And see to their care, so you won’t be remiss.
Equestria is not all ponies, this fact is plain–
So as Magic’s bearer and Friendship’s princess,
They must never be welcomed here in vain.
Lo! all gryphons, zebras, and dragons do say
That your amity will never lead you astray.

Treat Spike kindly, and look after him well–
A dragon is he, and a powerful one at that!
He may have slight stature, as anyone can tell,
But he is a hero as grand as Thorn hereat!
Just as well as anyone, danger he can quell,
Despite misjudgement from the dragon-flat.
Together he makes your friendships complete.
With him, Twilight, you shall never face defeat!

Those who remain, pray, why wait for the bard?
There are other things one can do, are there not?
Equestria’s our homeland, and this is no canard;
A product of our labors, it is rightfully wrought,
With an aura of permanence, for-ever unmarr’d.
Here one can befriend another, as a pony ought.
Here one can walk through the fields of Elysia–
And only here, in the magical land of Equestria.

Canto I

Travel through the land of Equestria,
Friendship joining Magic, around us see!
Watch as the morning comes, when Celestia
Raises the bright Sun over the Everfree.
Come day’s end, her younger sister Luna
Brings out her night’s Moon over the sea.
Cadance’s Love permeates all with a heart,
While Twilight makes Friendship a fine art.

Three tribes of pony reside, namely unicorns,
And pegasi too, who have wings of feathers.
The unicorns cast spells with their horns.
The pegasi control the clouds and weathers.
The earth ponies support by farming corns,
Apples, too, among various others.
These three support each other like family,
So that all can live and prosper easily.

There are also dragons, breezies and donkeys,
Gryphons and phœnixes, throughout spread.
Dragons are found below in the valleys,
Breezies in their grotto, donkeys widespread,
Gryphons trade endlessly, their greed a disease,
And phœnixes rise when their plumage is shed.
These and other fauna here can be found.
Indeed, Equestria is with life abound!

To you, Celestia, I do implore,
With your blessings I may elaborate,
She who raises the Sun once more,
Surely this legend to me you can relate,
I beg, so as to tell this tale of lore,
Grant me an audience on this date.
A story such as this is not to be missed,
Therefore, I ask of you, please assist!

You, Luna, grant a voice with such power,
One from a being so great and divine,
That the podium will rise up and tower,
And will reach the audience this story of mine,
That the ground below will shake and cower,
And all will heed my voice and my rhyme,
That everyone from all the walks of life
Hears this story cut through like a knife.

You, Mi Amore Cadenza, of you I ask
That you calm all who are attending.
You alone are capable of such a task;
Their strife by now should be ending.
Their hatred for one another you should mask,
Turn it to true love, not simply pretending,
For this story, it is meant for all time,
Despite its very nature being sublime.

And you, Twilight Sparkle, I request
That you cement what Cadance began.
Once you carry through, I will do my best
To deliver this epic, exactly as how it ran.
Surely this is for you but another test,
To excel you truly have an excellent plan,
Keep the crowds tame, while I speak,
So that my voice dœs not go weak.

O! and the ones who wield Harmony,
Pray, let us not neglect their existence:
Two unicorns there are, one named Rarity,
Twilight was one once, but an alicorn hence.
Rarity weaves dresses of the highest quality;
For Generosity, she has an unfailing sense.
Twilight studied under the Solar-Princess.
Consequently powerful Magic she can express.

Two pegasi as well, named Rainbow Dash,
And one who is bound to the ground, Fluttershy.
Rainbow Dash can clear the sky in a flash,
So the sun shines, so the ground stays dry.
Fluttershy cares for animals in her hollow ash,
Be they ground-beasts like her, or of the sky.
Rainbow Dash is unrivaled in her Loyalty,
And Fluttershy’s Kindness branches like a tree.

In addition, two earth ponies are in this troupe,
These are named Applejack and Pinkie Pie.
Applejack hails from a large family group;
Her Honesty is pure, no other can come nigh.
Pinkie Pie, baker is she, and not one to droop;
She instead causes Laughter, in the passers-by.
These are Harmony’s Elements, all six all told.
Now that I have appeased, let the story unfold.

The forest Everfree is not a well-known place,
Not many are able to traverse its thickness,
Or stare its so-called nature in the face,
For its independence causes them deep distress.
In this independence the fauna takes grace–
The Manticore, for one, is venomous.
Small wonder that much of it is cloaked in fear,
That nopony voluntarily dares venture near.

And yet, on occasion, it has to be done,
Usually by those with no choice on the matter.
They stay to a few known paths, maybe one,
And still they travel slowly, with little chatter.
Many a threat on occasion they have to outrun,
Or to the egress? Most hope for the latter.
Nonetheless, this is indeed a rare occurrence
That requires one with some competence.

Now we go to two such brave travelers,
One a mother, the other her unmarked son,
The father stayed behind, –Oh, horsefeathers!
He is irrelevant– the focus is on mom and son.
The two were headed to some far-off sellers,
Through the Everfree, so business can be done;
But the colt’s legs soon became tired,
And about this problem the mother inquired:

“My youth, thou must keep up thy strength–
This is the Everfree Forest, for Celestia’s sake!
I know it is difficult for thee to walk at length,
For it causes thy legs to start to ache,
But I ask thee, I reiterate, maintain strength,
Or something evil will find thee, like a snake,
And then no more will be my little Thorn–
How hard for me thy passing to mourn!”

“Soft, mother!” returned Thorn. “I’ll be fine–
The Everfree Forest isn’t as bad as it seems!
Sure it’s dark and thick, but I find it divine,
The sort of thing I can only find in dreams.
I don’t understand why others find it malign–
Look at this stone here! Beauty it screams!
There’s more to the Everfree than first glance,
If only you can brave giving it a fair chance!”

“A chance?” asked she. “Thorn, art thou mad?
The Everfree is the most vile thing that exists!
Around every corner there’s peril to be had,
Throughout the forest, only antagonists!
Only after leaving this place will I be glad,
Beauty, perhaps, but of vile mischief it consists!
Hasten, now, and pray, let us depart–
Let us not dally about, and stare at art.”

So the two pressed on, along the beaten trail,
Through a sun-lit part, under a clear blue sky.
Through one clearing, Thorn could see a vale,
So random, so majestic– he let out a sigh.
He stopped to gaze upon such fine detail.
“Come along!” said she. Thorn had to comply.
But the sight of the vale stayed with him,
It seemed so wide, and yet as well so slim.

He too paused to observe a harmless sparrow,
So graceful, so gentle, and so delicate.
Its beak pointed down the path like an arrow,
And its feathers were ruffled like velvet–
Nay, wait a minute, that indeed is an arrow!
And it was aimed directly at the path’s exit.
But pray, why was it pointing at that thing?
Perhaps it could be telling Thorn something?

“Thorn, dear, whatever is the matter?”
Said his mother, who had just now halted.
“Thorn, thy hooves now do not patter.
Art thou that tired? Needest thou to be exalted?
Oh, look now, thou’st made a sparrow scatter!”
And indeed, the sparrow earlier had vaulted–
Or perhaps it was leading Thorn on its target,
And prompting him to follow, lest he forget.

And Thorn took off! Galloping at top speed,
He pursued that sparrow with mad ferocity!
On he pushed, he did want, nay, he did need
To follow that sparrow, even at high velocity.
Where was it going? Thorn followed its lead,
The twists, the turns– ’twas pure insanity!
Until at last, little Thorn had come across
An unusual thing growing in the moss.

It was a plant indeed, that was expected–
But it was still strange even for the Everfree.
It was short, and two stems were connected,
As were several spines, but very strangely
Was its flower– saw other varieties Thorn did,
But this flower, despite it being so dainty–
Unlike those Thorn saw, this one was blue.
What! This is a blue rose? –That is true!

–Could it be? –Did it actually exist?
Even Thorn couldn’t believe his own eyes,
He had heard the legends, they all insist
That whoëver finds one is fated to be wise.
And now, here is Thorn, who Luck kist,
Blessed with such a wonderful surprise–
Here is young Thorn, without his cutie mark,
Led by a mere sparrow to his fate– “Hark!”

Thorn looked at it on all sides, once, twice,
Before he was sure– it was blue indeed.
He couldn’t think of anything nearly as nice;
All of his expectations did this bloom exceed.
Thorn was yet unconvinced, and checked thrice,
It was!– and for skepticism there was no need.
Thorn shook his head– this must be a dream!
Nay. Nay! –It was! –The legend, to deem!

But was Thorn disappointed? –Of course not!
Nay, he was glad to have chanced upon this!
He had seen specimens by the whole lot,
Yet none of them were azure, such as this!
Thorn imagined it could be the mark on his plot,
For this blue blossom he shouldn’t dismiss.
Thorn stared at it intently, against the tree-bark,
Wondering how it got here at all– “Hark!

“Hark!” hollered his mother. “Come, Thorn!
Thou mustn’t run off like that in the Everfree!”
“But mother!” replied he. “In the moss borne!
’Tis the most amazing thing you’ll ever see!”
“Nay, Thorn, that thing there thou must scorn!”
“Mother, why do you insist that I must flee?”
The two soon reached a tedious impasse,
Their arguments were transparent, like glass.

“If I’ve told thee once Thorn, I state endlessly:
This is the Everfree, not something to trifle!
So come hasten with me, don’t wait needlessly.
Any counterargument thou hast I will stifle.
To follow a sparrow like that so furiously,
And for– what? A blue flower so simple?
Truly, Thorn, why canst thou not behave right?
If this happens again, I’ll punish thee tonight!”

“Now hear me out, mother!” Thorn retorted,
And he indicated the space between two stones.
“If you could spare a moment, it’s important!
This is a living legend, in the skin and bones,
Don’t tell me that my argument isn’t supported,
Why, just look here between these two stones!
Once you see it for yourself, just try to oppose–
Tell me that you’ven’t heard of the Blue Rose?”

Upon the last two words did his mother jump–
Did he say it right? Were those fables true?
She took a glance at it, at the azure lump,
Nay, that’s not right! –It couldn’t be blue!
But it indeed was, so now Thorn did trump,
But why had Thorn not given her earlier a clue?
Why just take off, without any sort of warning,
Here in the Everfree forest in the mid-morning?

“Well, it appears that my little Thorn is right,”
The mother finally conceded, stepping back,
“But nonetheless, we have business tonight,
So hasten, before the forest sky gœs black,
As we head on the trail, on towards the light,
But I promise thee, when we do go back,
I’ll make sure thou seest this once more–
How wrong was I this thing to abhor!”

So the two traversed along, with the sight
Behind them– a memory for years to come.
But the blossom, it had too much might
To simply be ignored, and by anyone.
Thus the sparrow set off again, so that he might
Get Thorn’s attention, so he again would run
To the flower, for its prophecy was unfulfilled–
Thorn must be wise, Thorn must be skilled!

Fortunate indeed, Thorn recognized the guide
He saw earlier– the sparrow! It knew him!
Back to the plant? What mystery dœs abide?
One way to find out– that was to follow him.
So his mother’s ominous threat Thorn denied,
And sprinted back– ducking under a tree limb,
He took the path straight back to the wonder,
She stopped– the limb she couldn’t go under.

Thorn arrived at the flower soon enough.
The sparrow landed nearby, merely to look.
“All right, rooted one, I have had enough!”
Declared Thorn, “Now my attention you took!
I demand to tell me your will, and don’t bluff.
Your escort brought me here to this brook,
So now I demand, if you’ve business with me,
That you spare no detail, I demand to thee!”

And the most amazing thing happened–
Why, this azure flower literally picked itself!
This blue flower that was aforementioned
Was floating up in front of Thorn himself!
No roots were there, ’twas oddly conditioned,
With the flower hovering solely by itself.
Then something happened ever stranger–
It spoke to him! Could this be danger?

“Have patience, colt, and heed my voice–
A prophecy is presented, and must be done.
Nay, you have no say, you have no choice,
It is purest Fate, and it has now begun.
But have no fear, if anything, do rejoice!
For this is once in a lifetime, and it has begun.
Come take grasp of me, and you will see
Just what it means to be wise like me.”

“Well, if that’s true,” retorted the young foal,
“Then my mother must join me! We belong
Together, me and her. together we are whole!
Nay, I shall refuse to coöperate, to come along,
Bring her here, or I won’t participate at all!
We both found you, sing us both your song!
We were together, you’ve two promises to keep,
Two prophecies to fulfill, don’t you be cheap!”

“Not at all,” it countered, “you are mistaken–
You were the first, so of this only you are part.
She won’t know where you’ve been taken,
But, in her eyes, you won’t be long far apart.
She won’t mind, nay, she won’t be shaken–
She must be that way, if we ever are to start.
Now I restate, take ahold of my stem,
Where there’s no spines. we’ll go right then.”

Thorn was an earth pony, having no horn,
Just hooves and mouth, holding only with them.
“Sir, without a horn or wings I was born,
Therefore how can I grasp your stem?”
The plant lowered itself down to Thorn,
And he grasped it, and then right then
The flower bloomed– spread its mighty wings,
As it prepared for a quest (among other things).

The thorns receded around Thorn’s mouth,
So it would not harm its own student.
“Now then, young one,” it said, “head south.
Don’t let go of me, for I am your agent.
Head to the place of the perpetual drouth,
Where dragons roam, those that do not relent–
There lies your first task, with them to interact.
The goal of this is to with them form a pact.”

“A pact?” Thorn asked through clenched teeth,
“Pray tell, why would that be of any use?
All those dragons do is inhabit their dry heath,
Hoard gold, sleep all day, and not be crouse.
And besides, dragons are evil beyond belief–
If anything arises, I couldn’t possibly defuse.
So I ask of you, why are dragons so vital?
What can they do? This seems so fatal!”

“Hush, now” it replied, “and let me explain:
These dragons are not as bad as you tell.
Let me calm your worries, in words so plain,
There’s no need for fear, nor for a knell
When we are through– allies we shall gain,
But only if we are careful, and do this well.
Now soft! young Thorn, and let us move–
You have a purpose, that you need to prove!”

Wait, what was this? The bloom was glowing!
And Thorn was suddenly lifted into the air!
Then he moved forward, high winds blowing–
The blue Rose! Certainly! It had lost its care,
And started moving him; now they were going!
Through the strong æther did move the pair,
As the flower carried him to his assignment,
To the Dry-Flat, to deliver such a consignment.

There was no stopping, there was no slowing,
Despite what Thorn wanted– a slower pace!
The plant itself insisted on haste in their going,
Towards the Dragon-Lands they gave chase.
The winds were fluid, like a river ’twas flowing,
Despite the uneven object through did race–
As they edged nearer, nearer to their goal–
The flower was eager, not so much the foal.

On! and On! and On! Forthward did they go–
To a fate most mysterious, amidst a high gale!
Over the mountains high, though the vales low,
At speeds that dared to clip the colt’s tail–
Through places of bright sun or thick snow,
’Til Thorn’s hooves touched ground so pale.
Then the winds did die down once more–
But this was not the same land as was before.

Canto II

The ground was dry-earthen, hard as stone,
And a pale color– beige– like that of sand–
As though Thorn trotted on Equestria’s bone,
A compound-fracture, poking through the land.
After Thorn had gone through such a cyclone,
O’er the Dragon-Lands he then did stand.
This first task of an unknown many was here,
As presented by this bloom’d seer.

His task seemed simple: ’twas to descend
Down to where the Dragons did lay.
Through territory hot and molten to wend,
Through a dry sandstone ravine on the way.
Then the olive branch Thorn was to extend
Towards these natives, where they stay.
But the caution, warned the flower, alas,
Was to be worthy, a trial Thorn had to pass.

The nature of this trial varied between cases,
For these dragons were indeed quite arbitrary.
Even Thorn’s mentor knew not of the basis,
Which made the young colt all the more chary.
Whether he’d be beaten in several places,
Or something worse– aye, reason to be wary!
But if he did pass, then there was no doubt
That forthwith a valuable alliance would sprout.

His mind was set, his soul was prepared,
And young Thorn did set off to his fate–
Down these rocky slopes the foal fared.
The path was rocky, uneven, never straight.
“O! for the sake of Celestia,” the colt declared,
“Why doth my task here be so great?
What purpose doth serve to gain a partnership–
And will they truly remember our friendship?”

His question remained unanswered, therefore
Thorn assumed the inquiry was dismissed.
Which gave the foal no sense of fear nor
A sense of relief– a floral remiss.
Whatever the Dragons for him had in store,
Only one way to know: simply remain amiss.
If the blue Rose knew of any possible danger,
Would it not have selected one who was abler?

Towards a magma pool the two traveled by–
Rock red, orange, yellow, and white molten,
Indicating the peril, the danger being so high,
As was the heat, urging any normal soul to run.
But Thorn? Nay! For the pool he was too spry,
Navigating around the hazard like a gryphon.
One less obstacle, between them and the object,
So this leg of the journey may soon be resect.

As the duo progressed, the ground darkened–
Not a shadow, but the heart of Dragon-Lands!
Here they were, ever-closer to the trail’s end.
Deep within lay a temple of the dragon bands!
Thorn entered the building through the pend,
And peeked in, crossing a floor of sands.
Here the dragons were gathered at site,
Discussing their topics– it seemed rather trite.

He listened intently, then changed his mind–
They were discussing an impending fate so ill!
Dragon-Lands was hot, as one would find;
So the dragons were liable to a heavy chill.
Thus they found themselves in quite a bind,
The arguments were so heated, the air so still.
Cloudsdale, apparently, was drawing close.
The solution? This suggestion seemed àpropos:

“If Cloudsdale will not halt by our command,
Then its sole fate is a permanent destruction!
They are Equestrian, with no right to our land.
Let us now send them a final instruction:
‘Turn back now, hasten, you Equestrian band,
Or else we will be forced to call to action!’
Aggression we meet, and must return in like,
What time have we to lose? We have to strike!”

“They come,” said another, “but sincerely–
Is that the only answer, to mount a defense?
I can propose another idea, perhaps three,
To try to dissuade them from their offense.
My first is negotiation, a compact simply,
To persuade their leave– yea, that makes sense.
If peacefully we convince them to withdraw,
You can pull your idea back into your maw.”

“What!” thundered the first. “Are you daft?
They cannot listen to any sort of reason!
Any compromise through their ears will waft,
While they force upon us their foreign season.
Nay, I say we fight– come now, grab your haft,
And send the invaders toward the rising sun.
By Lord Gurun’s will, I will not be remiss–
We shall defend our honor– wait, who is this?”

Now Thorn was graced with their sight.
Unexpected, yes, but this was his chance!
He came forth and spoke with a voice so light:
“Forgive me, please, withdraw your askance–
I am called Thorn, and I can aid in your fight;
My being Equestrian is mere happenstance.
I fight not with any sort of material reward,
Instead, I intend your freedom to safeguard.”

The other attendees looked to one another,
Then back at him. –Then burst out laughing;
This was Thorn, a colt without his mother!
Trotting in like he were some sort of king!
Surely this was a spy who had made an error,
Given away his allegiance, merely by speaking!
Why believe him, who sides with Cloudsdale,
When war was to happen? He ought to bail!

“Pay no mind,” the flower uttered in an aside,
“Their idea of kin is what appears externally.
Take another look at what lays inside,
Now tell me, describe what is there carefully.”
“A mere foal, nothing more. –Well, I tried.”
“Tried, perhaps, but you’ven’t tried fully.
As I had said, a trial will be presented.
Pass it, and an audience will be granted.”

The eldest of the dragons stepped forward,
And announced, in the fiercest voice:
“Young foal, if you have for us a word,
Then we have for you a simple choice:
Either prove your standing with the herd
Or else trot away, and silence your voice!
The trial is of our choosing, thus be patient.
This we do routinely to every entrant.”

They all turned around, their backs facing him,
And spoke in careful whispers to one another.
Thorn tried to listen, but the gaps were too slim.
This session reminded him of his mother,
The way they confer when she punished him.
Why him, too? Why involve his father?
Unsure of his fate, he again turned to it,
To seek an answer, or if he instead should quit.

Before it could answer, they again turned.
Their decision was made, his fate was sealed!
The possibilities– Thorn’s stomach churned,
But, all the same, before them he kneeled.
His trial in order to prove himself, he learned,
Was one so unexpected that back he reeled–
This was a trial that would leave him intact,
Yet there was no way he could do the act.

Outside the temple was a cooled lava-pool,
One that the dragons deemed to be hallowed.
And the reason, he learned, that it was cool
Was because it Lord Gurun himself hollowed.
The dragons had it amongst them as a rule,
Whoëver re-melted it is a part of their abode.
Why it stays frozen over is because of a spell,
It refreezes not long after re-melting. –Well!

In further detail, the spell is described thus:
Within the pool lies a secret of lore’s origin,
Protected there also by the magma’s hotness.
’Tis an object once in the king’s possession.
Rumors spread of its nature– was it a chalice?
Or a spear? His crown? Guesses are a million.
To keep it safe forever, Gurun placed it there,
Then added the spell, if anyone should dare.

The Councilors went outside to said place.
Thorn drew a breath, and followed behind.
A look of fear played ’round the foal’s face.
There surely was no way for him to find
Another solution, another saving-grace–
Such a question tugged at the rear of his mind.
Before long, he was standing at the site,
With the Councilors, to witness their might.

The first Councilor breathed forth an inferno.
It hit the surface, melting it in an instant.
In the puddle, the lava did ebb and flow,
But did it stay such for long? Nay, it didn’t;
The rock reclaimed the magma, ever so slow,
Until of the melt there was not a hint.
This proved the spell’s presence within,
And also proved that the Councilor was kin.

The second dragon imitated the first’s action,
Followed by, to punctuate intent, the third.
All these times were followed by vitrification.
It acted quickly, silently, without their word.
Then it was Thorn’s turn, else face eviction.
He leaned over the edge, seeming awkward.
He then turned to his guardian for advice,
If anything he could do would suffice.

“Is there another way I can make it simmer?
Clearly there is no way that I can breathe fire.”
“But of course!” it said, with a sort of glimmer;
“One wise word can burn hotter than any pyre.”
He again turned, now with a sense of ardor.
He opened his mouth, to unleash his hellfire–
But, before he could breathe life into the pool,
Thorn spoke words unimaginable to a fool:

“Reasons do not match up to first thought–
Sometimes, a second look is obligatory.
Many warring cities are, but Cloudsdale is not
One of them– at least, not since days a priori;
Their intentions of invasion amount to naught,
Nay, I know that it is not at all predatory–
Something else has control of the cloud-city
Thus, Cloudsdale deserves not war, but pity!”

Then something completely alien occurred–
The whole pool melted, and stayed as such!
Amidst the Councilors, a rumor stirred–
The pool was melted, but never insomuch,
Or this long, forever– one dragon stammered:
“Those simple words have done so much!
Truly he is worthy of inclusion with us all,
If he can render Gurun’s spell within thrall!”

The Councilors led Thorn back to their ring.
What solution had he? What secrets to tell?
Already Thorn was thinking of something
Whatever puppeteer had control to dispel.
Inside the room, a dragon had many a thing
To aid the young foal in his mission to quell.
He pulled out from the pool the first prize.
He explained the object before his very eyes:

“This is our greatest weapon, named Tânadain,
Forged by the claws of our great Lord Gurun
From iron dug out from his expansive domain,
From fires hotter than even the mighty Sun.
When drawn, those same fires it dœs retain,
Blossoms forth, for when war has begun.
None can stand in your way when it is used,
If, when it is drawn, fighting is not refused.

“We also have a seal, vermillion as my scale.
If ever, in your fight, you need us to assist,
Break this seal, and down fire will hail
From our finest warriors– a wall of mist
Will shadow your existence– fear not to fail;
We brothers stand together as claws in a fist.
These two items are for any fœ too great.
Now conquer, great Thorn! –Why the wait?”

“I’ll tell you,” said another of the dragons.
“It’s the culprit of Cloudsdale’s incursion!
We know now who is turning its engines!
Our old fœ, Quivett, is behind the intrusion!
I see it in the sky; I judge it by its actions–
They attack not now; this is my conclusion:
Quivett has returned today to wreak havoc!
Now comes the end of our peaceful epoch!”

“How can that be?” Those present recoiled.
“Lord Gurun has long ago defeated Quivett!
His plan of conquest, it has been foiled!
What? Was that nothing more than a nit?
Lord Gurun, with his sword Tânadain, toiled
To send him to Tartarus– and that was it!”
All faces went stricken, white as a ghost,
Even the morn-red face of the Council-host.

Here, Thorn peeked inside of his pack,
To seek the advice of someone more daring.
“Please when I ask you this, respond back–
Should I, or should I not, be so caring?”
Before it replied, it was pulled from the sack
By the host, who marveled at this thing.
“Forsooth! A blue Rose! This is the key!”
Aye, his face was dancing mad with glee.

“Ah, a quest I see you are on, my dear foal–
To gain wisdom, not glory, nor anything more;
But I must ask you, despite the contrary goal,
Will you help us in beating Quivett once more?
Quivett is our villain, borne of stone from a hole
That is now Tartarus. A creature but of lore!
His merely being involved fills us with affright!
Therefore, Thorn– will you help us fight?”

“Allow me to answer on Thorn’s account,”
Said the flower, leaping from the host’s hand.
“’Twould be difficult this Quivett to surmount.
We the duo have a different problem at stand.
If, however, defeating Quivett is so paramount,
Perhaps we may answer to such a demand–”
Then it lowered itself into Thorn’s saddlebag,
Flipped the flap closed, firmly inside its knag.

Thus spoke Thorn, “Well, then, it shall be–
In this fight against Quivett, you I shall aid!
You are sovereign, and deserve to be free,
Without anyone your trust to be betrayed;
The whole of the world I am prepared to see,
From here to Yakyakistan for the ultimate raid.
Quivett should not torment you ever again–
I shall bring his conclusive defeat. Amen!”

The one who warned felt a need to point out:
“Quivett, you see, is still trapped underground,
In Tartarus– blocked, therefore, is that route.
To circumvent, a few items need to be found:
First is the Tartarus Gatekey– though I doubt,
They say it is part of Grizzle’s treasure-mound.
Captain Grizzle pillages the skies over the sea–
This is how he obtained the Tartarus Gatekey.

“Once you have it, more still should be sought.
The Gatekey requires pieces of the Janus Stone.
I believe that is still mined within Canterlot,
Deep within the hollow of Equestria’s bone.
You only need six of them, not a whole lot–
Five blue, and center, one red, as the capstone.
(These represent Harmony, if I rightly recall.)
But that, Thorn, is not the only wherewithal.

“The Gatekey requires some sort of power–
Something strong, or else it would fail.
Lightning should provide that kind of power.
Surely, some can be found in Cloudsdale.
Then a spell should ignite it at that hour–
Saddle Arabia’s library should not fail
To have a copy of that spell we need.
That is the entirety of the catalog, indeed!

“This is a long and perilous trip, young one.
Are you certain you wish to undertake this?”
“Of course!” said Thorn. “It’ll be done–
Should I have refused, I would be remiss!
Nay, my new friends I should not shun–
To do so would be incredibly amiss.
Hail me off to Cloudsdale for the battle,
Else all is naught but strengthless prattle!”

“It is decided,” deemed the dragon Councilors.
Thorn prepared, sheathing Tânadain by his side.
Armor was donned, dragons becoming battlers,
Thick, heavy iron sliding over many a hide.
All, from proud nobles to humble toilers,
Were taking this glorious battle in stride.
Then it came time to soar to the sky-city,
Upwards to great heights, showing no pity.

One said, “Thorn, climb onto my back!
We leave for Cloudsdale at once!
Seeing wings on your body you lack,
I offer my own wingpower, in reverence.
Is your mentor tucked away in your sack?
Keep it there, it can provide assistance
In walking on its foundation of cloud.”
“Thank you, I shall!” Thorn vowed.

Once Thorn was aboard, he felt a mighty push
Upwards– heavensward– towards the sky!
The air whistled by his ears– a sharp whoosh,
As further towards war the dragons did fly.
Even this close, little sign of an ambush.
Were they really unprepared? If so, why?
’Tis better to know what to expect, when
Wandering ignorantly, than acting right then.

The first puffs of white fluff wisped past,
Indicating closer proximity to the warfield.
Thorn reached out to one that swiftly passed,
Too late for the wisps to his hoof to yield.
How long the battle was going to last
No one was to say– They were all steeled
To go the whole year long, until the walls
Crumpled down, exposing their halls!

At this height, it became too dangerous to fall
Off this dragon’s back– indeed much too far!
Instead Thorn gripped tightly, with all
His strength-- watching the city from afar.
A cloud cover was immediately above– a pall
For the ground below– perfect for a war.
The wisps grew so close it became cold.
This of Cloudsdale’s barriers was age-old.

And then the dragons broke through the barrier,
Soaring high above, intent on a grand standoff!
In Thorn’s head, the height was causing a stir–
Though by then the destination wasn’t far-off;
He couldn’t turn back, not as Tânadain’s bearer.
Nay, with Gurun’s sword he was no castoff.
There they were, within sight of the rainbows
Falling off the sides– as it falls and flows!

This journey of literally high peril was soon
Over– finally!– they were there at last!
For an earth-pony like Thorn this was a boon;
He hoped to land on Cloudsdale, and fast.
The Weather Factory was making a monsoon
Of snow– already their clouds were overcast.
This won’t be the case for long, however–
The dragons would destroy these in great anger.

The party split apart, some heading to the left,
Others to the right, some above and below.
Their strategy was, even then, quite deft,
Never mind that they carried with them a hero!
This ridden dragon landed towards the left
Side of the city – a place thick with snow.
Thorn and the blue Rose were on a cloud
Within Cloudsdale– a city most proud!