Tyrian walked down the gilded marble hall, statues of heroes of Equestria's past and beloved allies of wars and mythical adventures lined the hall, along with priceless paintings made by some of the greatest artists the world has known, likely collected by the ageless Princess Celestia. The thought of her and her oh-so-serene smile angered Tyrian along with the aching in his legs. At her request, he had been told to go and retrieve his ward from the other side of the castle and had given him a vague direction and a marking to look for.

Walking around this castle’s interior had given him an appreciation of all the thieves, legendary and unknown alike, who had either lost their lives or were locked away for years trying to enter this fortress. Some of the things he had seen would have been able to fund a small nation with the exorbitant value they had, making out with a single item would have made any thief a very rich criminal. While he was no connoisseur of art and stonework, he did appreciate the surplus of ancient weapons from around the world put on display, though he noted that they were far and few in between compared to the passion projects around him.

As he rounded a corner, his eyes locked on one weapon in particular, mounted on the wall surrounded by what he guessed were protective sigils, was a sword unlike any he had ever seen. It seemed to absorb the light around it, the chandelier above him not producing the amount of light it should’ve. Its hilt was master-crafted to perfection, many runes dotting its surface and pulsated with still flowing magic, the guard was molded into the shape of a crescent moon, likely to catch any weapon to make the mistake of clashing with it. The blade was the true standout, however, as it was decorated by age and wear. It was a warrior’s weapon, one that was incomplete without its wielder.

He knew who the sword belonged to, the plaque underneath it only confirmed it, but it didn’t matter. The sword hadn’t moved in over a thousand years, and Tyrian knew it was likely to stay for a thousand more. He turned away from the piece of ancient history and continued down the hall, to where he was told his ward was waiting for him.

Art and colored glass windows followed him down, each telling a part of history that most people had long forgotten, old enemies and friends lost to the sands of time, only known by those dedicated enough to delve into the lexicon of ages past in Celestia’s library. Tyrian had once tried to break into the library to try and steal a book detailing the lineage of noble families to present day a long time ago, but that heist had ended quite quickly.

The hallway split into three, Tyrian headed down the one that had a large pair of doors marked with the emblem he had been shown, a purple star with several smaller white stars, and opened it to the outside. He was met with a large white and gold tower, a staircase winding all the way around it and leading to a platform all the way at the top. Tyrian was not enthused by this development.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I walk a mile around trying to find this place and I have to walk up this shit too?!” Tyrian whined, knowing his body was on its last legs, both figuratively and literally.

~ ~ ~

“So, Princess, now that is over with, will you answer my question now?” Pierce Veil shook his numb hand and reached for his teacup.

“Which one? You’ve asked many today.” Celestia blew on the steaming tea and took a small sip.

“The one you keep dodging. Why him?” Pierce held his cup in his slightly trembling hand, his grip taking a bit of effort to keep.

“I’ve done dozens of background checks in my life and never have I seen so many blank spaces in someone’s life. Tyrian effectively started his life six years ago and has participated in nothing but criminal activity, and we hire him?”

“Do you trust me, my old friend?” Celestia took in the beauty of the castle’s garden as she waited for his response.

“Of course, Celestia. How could I not?” Pierce gestured to his right arm, the motion causing him to lose his grip on the cup. A golden shimmer, milliseconds after he dropped it, engulfed the cup and its contents. Celestia raised her cup to her lips, her left hand covered in a light mist of gold energy.

“T-Thank you. My hand slipped, my apologies.” Pierce flexed his hand in discomfort and took the cup from the cloud of magic.

"Come now, Pierce, don't hide your pain from me. You should know better, I was there when it happened." Celestia scolded. "What did the physician have to say about your progress?"

"The nerve damage is progressing as expected, so I've got at least a few more years of life left in this hand, at least seven, he said. I'm surprised it lasted as long as it has, to be honest. Though, not many people get healed by the 'Heir of the Sun' herself." Pierce chuckled lightly.

"Enjoy that, did you? I have to say, even I thought that was a little much, but it was worth it to see that face he made." She giggled at the memory of the mercenary recoil at the sight of her power, his face plastered with regret and a hint of fear.

"I think he learned not to test the sun, alright. You-" Pierce blinked as he thought, scolding himself. "Ah...This was a misdirection, wasn't it? Jeez, I'm getting slow." Pierce chuckled at the trick.

"Can't I ask how my friend is feeling and change the subject?" Celestia, finished with her tea, looked into his eyes earnestly.

"I appreciate it, I do, but we should talk about what Mr. Shadegale will do for us. We know he'll do what he's told, seeing as his pay is enough for a dozen guards, but what else did you have in mind for him?" Pierce waved over a maid, who walked over and poured more tea into both their cups.

"If Twilight is to be who she is destined to be, her rise will need to be assured, and with the Cult's re-awaking, it will be difficult. For now, let her and her bodyguard think everything's alright, that the sun will rise tomorrow, and if they play their part, it will."

~ ~ ~

Tyrian about collapsed at the last step, sweat collecting on his brow. His legs burned like Tartarus if it was filled with fire ants.

Through his grunts and gasping, Tyrian allowed his mouth one word, starving him of oxygen for the second.

"Fuck."

Spotting a bench at the side of the platform, he stumbled over to it while reaching for his canteen on his hip.

As he about fell onto the bench, he heard the door that leads into the tower's room open, and the sound of talons clicking on the marble. Tyrian felt his instincts kick in, his hand still on his canteen, his mind trying to piece together why a lizard was in the castle.

'Diplomat? No, no, dragons aren't that docile, if they had a problem they would have set it on fire. Why, why, why? It's getting closer. Act.'

As he heard the dragon open its mouth, he whipped around, uncapped his canteen and shoved it into its mouth.

"MPHM!" The young purple and green dragon's eyes widened in panic and confusion, his arms flailing in a futile attempt to break the strong arms holding him.

His mind finally registering the dragon's size and emotions, he pulled back in apprehension. The canteen clattered on the ground and the dragon pulled himself away, falling on his back.

"Ah shit, are you alright kid? I'm sorry about that." Tyrian put his hands up, hoping the baby dragon understood.

"Why-" The purple dragon coughed up some water, his entire body shaking. "Why did you do that?!"

"I'm paranoid, I guess. Dragons are really hard to fight and I've fought a lot." Tyrian explained as he went to help him up. "To be honest, you scared me, kid."

"Really? I scared you? You're some kind of soldier and I scared you?" The dragon got to his stubby feet, shook a bit, and looked up at the man towering over him.

"That really hurt, but you seem alright. Just really weird is all. I'm Spike, Spike the Dragon. Who are you?"

"I'm Tyrian, Tyrian Shadegale. Again, sorry about that." Tyrian gestured to the lonely canteen. "You'll probably not be able to produce fire for a while, by the way."

"What are you talking about?" Spike let a small burst of green flame out of his mouth. "See? Fire's still burning."

Tyrian, both amused and shocked, laughed at the sight. "Dang, kid, you're somethin' special. Even the biggest dragons can't take in water and breath fire like that."

"Really?" Spike smiled a little at that. "Guess I'm a Super Dragon then." He grinned proudly, Celestia always said he was special, but hearing it from someone else made it real.

"Yep, guess you are. Hey, I'm supposed to meet somebody here, are you alone?"

"No, Twilight, my sister, is in there." Spike thumbed at the door behind him, it's purple and white frame glistened in the afternoon sun. "She's busy reading about some prophesy thing, and I went out to get some air. It's really stuffy in there, you know?"

"Well, I'm here to get her, we're leaving in a couple hours, so we need to be heading out soon." Tyrian put his hands in his coat's pockets.

"Oh, right. We're heading to, uh, Ponyville right? What are you, like some guard on break or something?" Spike asked inquisitively, eyeing the man's armor underneath his grey cargo coat. "Aren't you hot in that? It's like eighty-five degrees out."

"This?" Tyrian splayed his hands out in his pockets. "Nah, I don't get hot. Even around fire and stuff, barely feel it."

Tyrian remembered once where he accidentally went into a lit fireplace, trying to sneak into an artists house for some trinkets to sell when he was just starting out. Soot and ash went everywhere and he was pretty sure his clothes caught fire, but he didn't feel any of it. He even put out the flames with his bare hands, and even then, he still felt the chill in his hands from the winter outside.

"Huh. You sure you're not a dragon then? Maybe your mom or dad was, like, a hybrid or something? Man, if they were, that'd be just like the superhero Wyvern! He was born to a family of dragon-human hybrids that wanted to rule the world, but he just wanted to help people, no matter what his parents made him do or wanted him to think! But later in the comic, he's been worried that evil runs in the family, but I haven't gotten to the end of it yet." Spike was visibly shaking in excitement as he talked about his comic book, but Tyrian needed to get this back on track.

"Hey, hey, we can talk about superheroes all you want later, but we gotta train to catch, so if we could go get Twilight, we can go now."

"Oh, right." Spike deflated a little, but he turned on his heel and gestured Tyrian to follow. "A warning though, she's probably going to throw something at you. She's not used to new people in her labrary."

"Her what?"

"Labrary. It's a portmanteau of lab and library. You'll see soon." Spike opened the doors to a large, two-story room.

The smell of aged paper and leather permeated the air, aided by the dozens of shelves of books, tomes, and scrolls along the walls of the expansive library. A few tables around the room were filled with chemistry equipment rather than books, some of them even had liquid in them. A large window took up the entirety of the far wall above him, an outcropped floor being the centerpiece of the room. A wide staircase winded up the wall, and at the very top, Tyrian glimpsed a small purple clawed foot lift above the ceiling.

'Little bastard moves fast.' Tyrian picked up his pace and climbed the stairs. As he scaled the steps up, he saw numerous books levitating with a purple glow around them, and a few steps later, he saw his ward. Black hair with a purple streak flowing down her back. She wore a black vest with a lilac undershirt, a necklace of a purple star around her neck. A deep purple skirt fluttered as she moved to a different bookcase, a few books being engulfed by her magic and being collected, making the number in the air almost a dozen, an impressive number for most magi.

"Spike, where did you go? I need you to help me find a book, Predictions and Prophecies, I think it'll tell me what I need to know about the Elements of Harmony, mainly what they are." Twilight requested before turning to look at him.

Her eyes locked on the man behind her assistant, her mind switching in an instant to panic mode. She let out a small scream as she threw all of the books in her magical grasp at his head.

Tyrian, for all his faults, was good at a few things, and one of them was taking a hit.

Unfortunately, ten hits in a row were a bit too much. The sound of fluttering pages and the sound of a dragon yelling was all he heard before his head hit the ground, the inky black darkness of unconsciousness enveloping his mind.

All in all, Tyrian was having a pretty shit day.

Author's Note

Been a while, hasn't it?

Sorry about that. Shit happens, ya know?