A Dragon's Age

by BlazzingInferno

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spike, Adventure, Dragons, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 16605

Spike never knew his dragon parents. That’s about to change.

I don’t go on a lot of adventures, not unless I’m with my friends. Still, when Princess Celestia showed up and told me I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet one of my dragon parents, how could I say no?
If I’d known what I was going to find, I might have…
Takes place shortly after Princess Twilight Sparkle.

Featured on Equestria Daily
Edited by Themaskedferret, docontra, and Pascoite
Special thanks to bookplayer for brainstorming help.

Published 2015-12-01 21:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-11 19:10:36 UTC

Wakeup Call

I'll never be the same.

I tell myself that sometimes, times when I can’t sleep. It doesn’t matter how many days or weeks or months go by; I remember. I remember the little details, the good ones and the bad ones. I don’t know if keeping the whole story in my head is a dragon thing, or it’s something just about me, or what. There’s still a lot about me that I don’t know. All I know for sure is I remember. I remember everything, and I know that I’ll never be the same.

It all started with a dream. Not a new dream, either. I’d been having this one every few nights for a really long time. I figured it was just a dragon thing, or something.

The dream always starts in the Golden Oak Library’s big downstairs room. Twilight’s there, of course, and so are all of our friends. We’re having some kind of party, and everyone’s talking. Everyone but me. For some reason I’m sweeping up the confetti on the floor, even though Pinkie’s still throwing the stuff everywhere. I run around the room, sometimes nearly chasing Pinkie, with a broom and a dustpan. The dustpan never fills up, and I keep getting smaller. A few minutes into the dream the confetti squares look as big as sheets of paper, and then I’m wandering in a forest of pony legs the size of tree trunks.

Then the conversation gets so loud that I can’t hear anything else. Twilight usually starts it. “Spike? Could you show us that new comic book you were telling me about before?”

Rarity chimes in next. “Oh please do, Spikey! I’d love to find out what happens to Radiance in this month’s issue, especially if you’d be so kind as to read it with me.”

This wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t all start looking for me. The pony leg forest starts moving, and pretty soon I’m an ant trying not to get stepped on. Pony hooves crash down around me like giant hammers, each one closer than the last.

This whole thing was terrifying the first time, but after reliving it for so many nights, it just feels depressing. The night that everything changed, I remember just sitting on the floor, waiting to get squished. In the past there’d been only two surefire ways to wake up: get stepped on, or get so small I fade away to nothing. Neither one ever felt very good.

Not that night, though. As wake-up calls go, delivering a letter is almost as bad. A second later I was face up in bed, panting and holding my aching stomach. A scroll spun through the air overhead and promptly fell on my nose. At least I didn’t swallow it; there’s been one or two early-morning letters that Celestia has had to resend. Twilight doesn’t know about those, thankfully.

Twilight stirred in her bed. “Spike? Was that a letter?”

I crawled out of bed and rubbed my eyes. Celestia hardly ever sends mail this early; she hadn’t even raised the sun yet. “Yeah—”

I was about to hand over the letter, but her magic beat me to it. The scroll left my claws, and left my thoughts a moment later; nothing sounded better than another three hours of sleep. I smiled, fell back into bed, and pulled my blanket up to my neck. Twilight had been a Princess for a whole week, after all. Earning her wings meant she could read her own mail once in a while. Maybe I could even conjure up a better dream, maybe with ice cream, or Rarity, or both.

Instead I heard Twilight gasp. “Oh my gosh! Princess Celestia’s coming here right after she raises the sun! Spike, we need to clean and reorganize everything! What could be wrong? Do you think Equestria’s in trouble? What If I’m in trouble? I-I just became a Princess a week ago! Did I miss a deadline, or a some last assignment?”

I opened my eyes just as the scroll dropped out of Twilight’s grasp and threatened to make another return-to-sender attempt. I snatched it out of the air as Twilight zoomed around the bedroom and happened to notice the letter’s opening line. “Hey, wait a second…”

Twilight’s magic lifted me out of bed and deposited me on her back. She ran down the staircase while I tried to hold on with only one hand. “No time for waiting, Spike. If Princess Celestia wants to see me this early, then it must be incredibly urgent.”

I inched my way along her back, forever grateful for my thumbs. As we reached the bottom of the staircase, I held the letter in front of her face. “Wait! Read the first line again.”

“I know what it says! It reads ‘Dear Spike, I’ll be paying you a visit this morn—’ What?” Twilight skidded to a halt, nearly sending me flying in the process. Sometimes she acts like I have suction cups for hands. “Princess Celestia’s coming to see you?”

I reflected on this for a moment, and held the letter a bit tighter than before. I’d been delivering mail for ages, but hardly ever for me. I brushed a claw against the elegant lettering. My name never looked so good in print; I kind of wanted to frame it.

Twilight craned her neck around to look at me and grinned. “Well?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you going to read it?” The subtle wag of her tail made her excitement clear enough.

I slid off her back and held the paper at arm’s length. “Ahem. ‘Dear Spike, I’ll be paying you a visit this morning immediately after I’ve raised the sun. There is an urgent matter that we need to discuss. Please give my warmest regards to Twilight. Yours, Princess Celestia.’ ”

I rolled up the paper, and then unrolled it again. It didn’t feel real. Urgent matters were Twilight’s department, not mine.

Her hoof touched my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I dunno, it’s just—” The first rays of full morning sunlight shone through the window, and a hoof thumped on the front door. Celestia wasn’t kidding about showing up immediately.

Twilight started for the door, and then turned back. “I’m sure it’s good news, Spike. I can’t even count the times I’ve driven myself crazy worrying about stuff like this.”

“Like thirty seconds ago?”

She blushed. “Point taken.”

Twilight bowed low as her magic turned the door handle. “Good morning, Princess Celestia! Please come in.”

Celestia smiled, just like she always does when Twilight’s around. “Good morning, Princess Twilight. I trust Spike shared his letter with you?”

Twilight rose to her hooves and nodded. “Yes. Would you like me to make us some tea, or breakfast? Spike’s not the only one around here who can cook.”

My stomach hurt just thinking about that prospect. There’s a reason I make Twilight three meals a day.

Celestia shook her head, much to my relief. “That sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid I need to speak to Spike privately. We won’t be long.”

My heartbeat doubled. Twilight’s legs wobbled, as if her heart had almost stopped.

Twilight turned back to look at me, which I think made us both feel worse. “Oh… Okay. I-I’ll be outside just in case either of you needs me.”

One of Celestia’s wings pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Twilight. I realize how odd this must seem. Spike and I will fill you in as soon as we’re done.”

I knew exactly how Twilight felt as she walked out the door. Normally that was my job, taking a long walk while the ponies did their thing. This time I was the one on the inside, feeling just as unprepared and nervous as Twilight always used to. Except that there wasn’t anyone standing next to me, and I didn’t have a saddlebag full of notes and books to show I knew what I was doing. If I’d done something wrong, it must’ve been something really bad for Celestia to show up and need to talk to me alone.

I tried to smile. “So… uh… H-hi Princess Celestia. Nice… um… the sunrise was really nice this morning.”

I really didn’t know what else to say. Even if I did, it wouldn’t come out right. My tongue is great at turning all the big words I know into smaller ones.

Celestia gave me one of her warmest smiles, the kind she normally directs at Twilight and Luna. It felt like a long-distance hug. “Won’t you join me for a little chat, Spike? Just like we used to?”

This time my smile was real. Sure she raises the sun every morning, but Celestia’s real special talent is making ponies (and dragons) feel warm inside. As I came closer, she lowered herself down until she was lying on the floor. Her eyes were level with mine, and that same smile was on her lips. I came within a foot of her ever-flowing mane, and a nudge from her wing convinced me to close the gap and sit right by her side. I hadn’t been this close to her since I was a hatchling learning to talk.

“I promise you’re not in any sort of trouble, although I do have a very serious matter to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

Her smile faltered. If I hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. “Spike, do you remember when first you asked me where your egg came from?”

“That was a really long time ago. That was back when me and Twilight were still living in your castle in Canterlot.”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“You said an explorer pony found my egg on the edge of Equestria and brought it back to Canterlot.”

“Yes, although there’s more to the story, more than I felt was prudent for you to know at such a young age.”

I folded my arms. “Like what?”

“I was the explorer who found your egg, Spike. I found it over five hundred years ago during an expedition to chart Equestria’s borders.”

My jaw dropped. “Five… five hundred years? How come I didn’t hatch for so long?”

Celestia looked away. “The real question is why you hatched at all. Twilight is the answer, of course. As you know, she hatched your egg during her entrance exam to my school.”

“What do you mean, ‘at all?’ If… if I didn’t hatch, then—”

“Dragon eggs normally hatch within a few months. I found your egg abandoned and tried my best to create the proper environment, but… when nothing happened, I assumed nothing ever would.”

“But how did Twilight do it? Why did you even let her try?” The words came out a lot louder than I meant them to. I couldn’t help it.

“The ‘how’ is a mystery of dragon and pony magic that I don’t pretend to understand. As for why, I didn’t intend for Twilight, or any other pony, to succeed. The point of the entrance exam was to see how she’d react to an impossible task.” Celestia finally looked at me and smiled. “Twilight has been redefining what’s possible ever since, hasn’t she? Your finally hatching is one of many things I can never repay her for.”

I found myself grinning, even though part of me wanted to cry. “Heh, yeah. Only, why tell me all this now? And why not tell Twilight?”

Celestia’s horn glowed with golden magic. “Because you and you alone have a very important decision to make.”

A three-dimensional map of Equestria appeared on the floor in front of us. I immediately spotted Canterlot, built into the side of an inch-high mountain, and followed the train tacks down to Ponyville. The map was so life-like that I expected to spy a tiny Friendship Express chugging its way through the mountain pass any second.

I knelt down until my nose was practically touching the floor. “Wow, this is amazing!”

“Do you see anything out of place?”

“Huh?”

After scanning the miniature streets of Ponyville, I stood up and gave the whole map a second look. The map was like a magic photograph: completely realistic, but also completely still. All except for one spot in the south. At the very edge of Equestria, smoke was rising over a tiny mountain. “What is that? What’s happening there?”

“Maps like this are how the Royal Guard report to me on the state of Equestria, and that mountain—”

I gasped. “Is that where you found my egg?”

Celestia paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, it is. It’s just beyond Equestria’s borders, in a wasteland frequented by migrating dragons. No dragon has ever taken up residence there, or at least that was my belief.”

“So… if there’s a dragon there now…” I looked up at Celestia. I’d felt so smart a second before, when I figured what was special about the mountain. If only Twilight was here to clue me in on this one.

“That dragon has been asleep for at least five hundred years, and is likely one of your parents.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. For some reason, I still managed to speak. “M-my parents?”

“That would explain how your egg arrived in the wastelands. As far as we know, wild dragons only lay eggs when they have a safe place to—”

“Can I see them?”

Celestia nodded. “That’s why I came to visit with so little warning. Wild dragons are migratory and rarely settle in the same area twice. If you don’t set out for that mountain soon, it will be too late.”

I nodded as hard as I could. “I’ll do it! I definitely want to meet my mom or my dad. Maybe some monster tried to steal my egg! Maybe my parents thought I hatched and ran away, or—”

Celestia raised a hoof. “I’m afraid there’s one other complication.”

“Huh?”

“According to a treaty I made with the dragons centuries ago, no pony can set hoof across that border; such was the price the dragons of the time set on recognizing Equestria as a country. Should you choose to make this journey, Spike, you’ll have to do it on your own.”

“What? All by myself? I can’t take any of my…” I looked around the empty library. None of my friends were there, but it was so easy to imagine that they were. Ponyville just wouldn’t be home without them. “I-I don’t know if I can do that. Could I send letters? What about if I take a non-pony friend like… um…”

“I’m afraid dragons are the only creatures allowed. You could certainly send letters, although you’d have to carry ink, quills, and paper with you the entire way.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The best I could do was stare into Celestia’s eyes and will her to make up my mind for me.

“I know this is a frightening prospect, Spike. It scares me, too. Still, I wouldn’t be here talking with you if I thought the trip was too long or dangerous. It certainly wouldn’t be an easy mission, but I have every confidence that you’d be able to manage.”

I closed my eyes and tried to think, although that didn’t quell the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. Every ounce of self-preservation in me said to say no, to stay in the library with Twilight for the rest of my life. All the same, I opened my eyes and nodded. “I’ll do it.”

Parting Gifts

At least I knew why Celestia wanted to tell me privately. Twilight was shaking by the time Celestia finished explaining everything. “B-but… Spike go alone? Without any friends? Without even me?”

Celestia nodded for the hundredth time. “I’m afraid so. Even without the political complications, ponies simply aren’t welcome in that part of dragon territory. You and your friends would be in grave danger.”

“What about Spike? If it’s too dangerous for us, then it’s way too dangerous for him! H-he’s just a baby dragon!”

I hate it when she says that. In pony years I’m not much younger than her, and nothing sums up every disagreement we’ve ever had like those two words. I couldn’t get bigger fast enough.

Celestia shook her head. “I understand that you’re upset, Twilight, but arguing with me is pointless. This is Spike’s decision, not yours or mine.”

Twilight turned to me next. “Spike, please tell me you see how dangerous this is! I don’t want you to get lost or hurt out there with nopony to help you. What if this dragon isn’t even related to you, or what if there’s other wild animals, or monsters?”

My heart was pounding. I’d had all those thoughts already. “I-I know it’s dangerous, Twilight, but… but I have to. If there’s even a chance that that’s my mom or dad out there, I have to know.”

That wasn’t the end of the argument. We could’ve started a whole new section of the library dedicated to Why Spike Should Not Go Adventuring Alone. I don’t want to dwell on all that, though. What matters is what happened next, once Celestia repeating “Spike’s decision” sunk in. That’s when the planning started. That’s when I found out what it’s like to be the subject of one of Twilight’s projects instead of just being her assistant.

Late that afternoon, I stood alone at the train station. I’d been standing there for over ten minutes, but I was still panting like I’d just finished the marathon that I was about to start.

“Walk for a day. The dragon shouldn’t be awake until then anyway. Head southwest. It’s the tallest mountain on the horizon. Follow the river. There’s lots of gem deposits. There shouldn’t be any other dragons this time of year. There aren’t any big animals at all. Southwest.”

I wish Celestia could’ve waited there with me. She’d stood next to me all morning while Twilight and my friends panicked, right up until they agreed to help me get ready. Now I was stuck standing at the train station all by myself, looking up and down the train tracks and hoping my friends would hurry up and come say goodbye like they promised.

I glanced down at the ticket in my hand. Instead of a destination city, it just said “end of the line - round trip” in red letters. Part of me wanted the train to beat my friends to the station. I just knew they’d start trying to talk me out of this all over again. I’d probably let them win, too. Standing there just thinking about walking out into no-pony’s land had me scared. The bag I’d made out of a handkerchief and a stick felt like it was filled with bricks.

I had to go, though. Just knowing that my mom or dad was out there made up my mind. If I didn’t go, I’d regret it forever. How could my friends ever realize that? They all grew up with their parents, or at least remembering what they looked like; they didn’t know how lucky they had it.

At least I’d talked them out of taking the train with me. As hard as it would be to say goodbye here in Ponyville, doing it anywhere else would be impossible.

Then I heard Twilight’s voice. “Hi there, Spike.”

I took a deep breath. I had to be firm. “Hey, Twilight. Listen, I know you’re going to try and—”

And then Rainbow Dash zoomed over and thumped me on the shoulder. “So are you ready for your big solo mission?”

I looked up at her. She was grinning the same way she does when she talks about the joining the Wonderbolts, or doing a sonic rainboom: she looked perfectly confident. “Uh… I guess?”

Pinkie was in my face next. “No time for guessing games! There’s going-away-but-be-back-soon cupcakes to eat!”

A tray of cupcakes appeared out of nowhere, and she stuck one in my open mouth.

Rarity edged Pinkie away. “Pinkie Pie, I won’t have you making a mess of our precious Spike before his big adventure.”

Rarity produced a napkin and dabbed frosting off my mouth. I couldn’t chew and swallow fast enough. What was going on? Where were my panicking friends?

I looked around and found Twilight, Fluttershy, and Applejack behind me. My friends had me surrounded.

Chewing was overrated anyway; I swallowed the cupcake whole. “What’re you all doing?”

Twilight smiled. “Wishing you luck, of course. This is your decision, Spike, and we’re here to support you.”

“But… what about—”

Applejack stepped to the side, revealing a pile of saddlebags. “And to make sure you’ve got everything you’re gonna need. Mind if I go first, Twi?”

Twilight nodded. “Be my guest.”

Applejack opened the nearest saddlebag, pulled out a cloth sack, and threw it into my hands. “I packed you some dried apple chips, Spike. Even if that place is crawling with gems, you can’t go wrong with a little produce in your diet.”

I looked down at the hefty bag in my hands. The chips inside crinkled and cracked as they shifted. “Gosh, AJ, that’s really n—”

Then she dropped something onto my head. “Plus one of my spare hats to keep the sun out of your eyes.”

I pushed up the Stetson’s brim and stared at her. “Y-your hat? I-I’ll take really good care of it. I promise!”

She nodded. No amount of smiling on her part could hide the nervous way she kept glancing at the train tracks. “Just take care of yourself, Spike.”

Rainbow muscled her out of the way. “Hey, no mushy stuff! Spike, I got you this.”

She pushed a glass jar into my hands. The lid looked like it’d been screwed on tight, and the glass itself was pitch black. “What—”

“It’s a rain cloud. Just in case you need water in a hurry, open that baby up and you’ve got yourself a mini rainstorm.” She was still sporting her trademark grin. At least one of my friends wasn’t worried.

“S-S-Spike.” Fluttershy was shaking like she’d just stepped out of a freezer, especially since she was holding a bright yellow blanket. “I-I’m r-really terrified, b-but I know you’re not. I-I brought you this b-blanket that my animal friends helped me knit. It might be cold out there.”

Her shivering didn’t stop as she hugged me. For a second I felt like she was the one going off on a big adventure. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy. I’ll be fine.”

I could feel her nod. “I-I know. I think I’m more afraid from imagining if I was in your place, being out there, all alone with no fr—”

Pinkie shoved something in my face. “But Spike’s not going alone!”

Fluttershy jumped away, and I nearly did the same. Pinkie held up her present for all to see: a blue rock with painted-on eyes and a big smile. “You can’t bring any ponies with you, but you still need somepony to talk and laugh with. That’s why I made you a portable friend!”

Somehow this was the most touching gift of all. I held the little rock and stared at its goofy, vacant expression. “Thanks, Pinkie. This… this is actually pretty cool.”

She leaned in whispered in my ear. “His name is Rocky.”

As soon as I set Rocky down on the blanket from Fluttershy, three corked glass vials floated into my grasp. Some sort of purple liquid was inside each, and was bubbling violently.

Twilight hugged me. Her cheeks felt damp with tears. “Spike… I-I know this is something you think you have to do, a-and I’m not going to try talk you out it. If Princess Celestia hadn’t said no, I’d be right there with you. You know that, right?”

I patted her back. “Of course I know, Twilight. I promise I’ll be careful and everything.”

She nodded. “I packed a special potion for you, just in case you need it.”

I could feel the liquid inside the vials bubbling, even though they weren’t hot. “What are these things, anyway?”

“They’re super-concentrated teleportation magic. Princess Celestia helped me make them. If anything goes wrong, just pour all of one on yourself and you’ll end up right back here… but only if you use every single drop. That’s why I made a couple extras.”

“Is it… safe?”

She nodded again. “It… should be. I-I know you’ll be perfectly fine though, even if you’re in wild dragon country, s-so you won’t even need them!” She backed away and forced a smile. “You’ll be fine, Spike. Princess Celestia believes in you, I believe in you, we all believe in you. You’ll be fine.”

I added the vials to my pile of new possessions. I didn’t care if I had to walk the whole way with both arms full. My friends are amazing, and so were their gifts.

Twilight stepped away, and Rarity came forward with a bright smile on her face. A goodbye kiss is what I wanted from her, more than anything. Calling Rarity beautiful doesn’t really cover it. There isn’t anything she does or is that isn’t special to me, but I don’t know how I’d ever tell her that. I almost told her I had a crush on her once. Even if she already knew, I’m glad she stopped me. ‘Crush’ just isn’t the right word anymore. I don’t know if it even was then. If I can’t even explain how I feel to myself, then there’s no chance I could tell her, either. Maybe she’d give me a kiss anyway. She does that sometimes, and every time it feels like Celestia stopped the sun right over the two of us.

“Spike—” she glanced down at my pile “—clearly there’s only one way that I could add to this fine assortment of gifts.”

I puckered up. Instead, she picked up my handkerchief bag with her magic and emptied it on the ground. “By ensuring you have a suitable accessory to carry it all in.”

A green and purple saddlebag floated in front of me, except it wasn’t an ordinary saddlebag. I didn’t really know what to call it. It looked like an extra-large saddlebag covered in little pockets that’d be too hard for a hoof to get into. Instead of having a long strap on the back to tie around a pony’s middle, there were two shorter straps on each side, fastened at the top and bottom.

“What is it?”

“Let me show you. Hold out your arms.”

The bag flew behind me, and the straps slid over my shoulders. All of the other gifts were in the air next. One by one, Rarity deposited them in the bag, each time adding a tiny weight to my shoulders. Suddenly the pile was gone, my hands were free, and the bag still felt light on my back.

I slipped the bag off my shoulders and looked it over. “I… wow, Rarity. This is amazing! How’d you make something like this so fast?”

“I’ve actually been working on it for some time, in preparation for your birthday.”

Never before had I been able to stand in front of Rarity without my eyes being drawn to her. I wanted to open every single pocket on the bag to see how she’d stowed everything inside with what felt like room to spare. “This is so cool! There’s a place for everything! It’s perfect, Rarity.”

“You will be back in time, of course. Promise me that.”

“Huh?”

Her smile was gone. Instead she wore the same distraught frown that Twilight had been trying to hide from me all afternoon. “Your birthday is in less than two weeks. Please tell me you’ll be back with us before then?”

I nodded. “Of course I will! I’ll be back by the end of the week.”

A train whistle cut through the evening air. Rainbow Dash threw the bag back over my shoulder. “That’s your train, Spike. You ready to rock this adventure?”

I was. I also wasn’t. I closed my eyes and remembered the map, and the tiny little mountain with a smoke trail above it. Ready or not, I had to go.

Lonely Mountain

As I sat in the train the next morning, I could still feel all my friends’ forelegs around me in our final, rib-crushing embrace. I could still hear them saying goodbye. Most of all, I could still see the mountain inside my head. If I closed my eyes, I could picture it and imagine my mom and dad, two big and majestic dragons, guarding a hoard of eggs just like mine.

There wasn’t much to do on the train, besides go through my possessions for the hundredth time, or watch the surprisingly boring scenery through the window. At first the trip had felt exciting. The cabin had emptied and refilled at each major stop, sometimes with high-class ponies on their way from one big city to the next, sometimes with farmers going to a big exhibition in the country, and once with a bunch of fillies and colts on a school field trip. The one constant was the weird looks they’d give me, the one and only dragon onboard.

In the morning I was all alone. The train must have emptied out late last night, during one of the many stops I’d slept through. Without ponies to watch, I was completely out of things to do. I looked down at my legs dangling in the air, and the generous gap between my feet and the carpet. A pony wouldn’t sit like this on the train, not when they could just scoot back and rest their front hooves on the seat. Next I looked up at the emergency pull cord running along the ceiling. The older fillies from the field trip could’ve reached up there if they stood on two legs, but I couldn’t even reach it if I jumped. No matter how young or old I was in dragon years, somehow it didn’t feel like it mattered; all that mattered was that I was too small for the pony world.

The train decelerated abruptly, nearly toppling over my bag on the seat next to me. I cradled the bag in my arms. I couldn’t let anything happen to all my gifts, especially not the bag holding them all. The wheels beneath the cabin squealed on the tracks, and a few seconds later the whole train shuddered to a full stop.

A door at the front of the cabin opened, and the conductor trotted in on three legs. His fourth leg always seemed to be busy holding his pocket watch. “End of the line. All out for…”

He lowered the watch and looked at me. I knew exactly what he was going to say; we’d had this same conversation when I boarded last night. “You sure this is where you want off, son? Only prospectors ever come out this far. There’s a whole lot of nothing out there, not a single pony around for—”

I slid off my seat and put on my pack. “Yeah, I’m sure already. My ticket says end of the line, round trip. This is where I’m getting off.”

He nodded. “Suit yourself. The train stops here every few days, but there’s no set schedule for that.”

I was already heading for the door. I could feel the vials of magic from Twilight sloshing around with each step I took. “I’ll be okay.”

I’d felt out of place on the train, but out here the train itself looked out of place. Dry, cracked dirt stretched from horizon to horizon, interrupted only by rocky knolls, leafless trees, and the occasional clump of grass. Even the skies looked wild; dull grey clouds hung in the deep blue, too dark to be friendly, but not dark enough to mean rain. The straight train tracks and the gentle curves of the cars were the only normal looking things.

The train chugged away just as quickly as it had arrived. I watched it retreat down the tracks for a minute and imagined the conductor shaking his head. He probably thought I was crazy, or maybe that I was just doing some weird dragon migration thing. It wasn’t as if he saw dragons on a regular basis anyway.

Figuring out which way to go couldn’t have been easier. The single mountain on the horizon had a thin but unmistakable column of smoke rising from it. I fished the compass out of my pack, one of the few smart things I’d thought to bring all on my own, and tried to memorize the reading. Getting to the mountain would be simple enough, and as long as I could point myself in the direction of the train tracks, I could get back just as easily.

I put the compass away and, after a deep breath, started to walk. My own footsteps were startlingly loud in the still air. There wasn’t any other sound to cover up my claws scraping against the hard earth: there were no chirping birds, rustling tree leaves, or flowing water. That last one would be fixed in a few hours, when I reached the river that I’d be following the rest of the way. That was what my map said, at least. I had a canteen to last me until then, plus Rainbow’s bottled raincloud if I really needed it.

Not that I’d need it, of course.

The cadence of my steps quickened. Seeing ground completely devoid of hoofprints put me even more on edge than the thought of running out of water.

I pulled on the brim of my hat. “You’ve got this, Spike. Applejack doesn’t give out hats every day, you know.”

My breathing began to slow down, even if my footsteps didn’t.

I kept up that quick pace all day and into the evening. The fading light made keeping up my spirits even harder. Wearing a hat now felt silly when the sun was at my back. Worse, I still hadn’t found the river I supposed to follow all the way to the mountain.

“Come on, Spike. You’ve got this. So what if you’re out there on your own? You’re doing great!”

I didn’t believe it. I kept thinking about what my friends would’ve been doing at this time of the day. Most of them were probably eating dinner, maybe even trading stories about how proud they were of me. Hopefully somebody checked on Twilight today; without me around, I sometimes wonder if she’d remember to eat at all. I can’t count the number of times I’ve caught her sleeping with her face in a book.

My stomach rumbled. “Guess that’s means I should eat too. I’ve walked far enough for today, right?”

I didn’t know who I expected to answer. Anyone would’ve been nice, really. This place felt so empty, like I was the only living thing left in the world. I knew that wasn’t true, though. The ground was riddled with blank scorch marks and claw-shaped gouges, and littered with tiny gem fragments. This was definitely dragon country, even if I was six months late for the migration.

“Okay, Spike. Dragons come through here every year by choice. That means there has to be gems around here some—”

And then I found where the river used to be. I tumbled down the gully, rolling through parched dirt until I finally came to a crashing halt at the bottom, shaken, stunned, and wailing like I’d just seen a ghost. I lay there for a minute, catching my breath and wondering if my screams could’ve carried all the way to Ponyville.

One of my claws felt something wet. In a moment of panic, I jumped up and checked every place I’d felt a rock jab me to see if I was bleeding. All of Twilight’s dire warnings about being careful and how I was only a baby dragon came flooding back. A few seconds later I actually looked at my claw and saw that it just had water on it. The remnants of the river, a tiny stream barely a inch deep, was silently flowing right in front of me. A little water-borne dust cloud, from where my fall disturbed the water, was drifting its way downstream.

Jagged rocks lined the bottom of the riverbed, including the spot where I’d landed. I brushed a claw against the scales on my belly, dislodging a few pebbles in the process. The rocks underneath me were completely pulverized, and yet I hadn’t gotten a scratch. “Maybe I can do this after all.”

I took my time climbing out of the gully, but not for fear of falling. Each step felt different from before. All of the pep talks in the world couldn’t measure up to seeing my own scales win in a fight with a rock-turned-spear.

Gem hunting could wait for tomorrow. I set my gear down against a nearby boulder and started to unpack. For dinner I could stick with one of the sandwiches I’d packed, plus some of Applejack’s chips. The cloth bag smelled like the farm: freshly turned soil, blooming flowers, and ripening fruit. I undid the drawstring and popped one of the brittle apple slices in my mouth; the taste was even better than the smell. Digging around in the dirt could definitely wait for tomorrow.

I pulled out Fluttershy’s blanket next. I breathed in the scents of a dozen different animals, not to mention her cottage, as I folded it into a makeshift sleeping bag. My claws followed the tiny stitches along the edge, needlework so intricate that one of her mice must have done it. This wasn’t the super-fancy kind of thing that Rarity would make, but it still had a special kind of warmth to it, like all of Fluttershy’s little friends were wishing me luck, too.

The sun kissed the horizon just as I finished my sandwich. Celestia was out there somewhere, lowering the sun right now. She was probably on her private balcony just outside her bedroom. She doesn’t know it, but I used to watch her move the sun when I was still sleeping in a crib in her room. She thought I was always asleep by then, but if I could stay awake long enough, I’d sit up and watch her standing there, silhouetted against the blinding sunlight. That was before I asked to be Twilight’s assistant, or even really knew who she was other than some purple thing that talked a lot.

“Night, Celestia. Thanks for everyth—”

The sun didn’t set. It stayed there, a tiny sliver of orange peeking over the land, for a full second before disappearing for the night. Suddenly I felt warm all over. Celestia was out there all right, and she was thinking of me. She’d even given me an extra second of her sunlight just to let me know.

I could do this. Celestia believed in me. Celestia was proud of me. At that moment, that’s all I needed to know.

Outland

I felt ready for anything the next morning. I jumped up with a smile on my face and started looking around for breakfast. Amazingly enough, a small patch of dirt just a few feet from my campsite glittered with nearly buried jewels. It must have been too dark at night to see them, even though my eyes are really good at spotting shiny things. Sometimes Twilight tries taking me stargazing, but I usually fall asleep before she’s finished calibrating the telescope. She thinks that means I can’t stay up that late; I think it just means I find astronomy boring.

I unearthed a ruby the size of my fist and polished it on my scales. “Now this is what I call breakfast!”

Ponies don’t really understand when I try to explain how a gem tastes. I think Rarity almost fainted the first time she saw me eat one. They don’t know what they’re missing, though. It’s way more complicated than ‘salty’ or ‘sweet.’ Diamonds have a stiffness to them that kind of tastes like fire. Sapphires have a sort of cool, metallic quality, almost like rust. I bit into the ruby, savoring the crunch, the grittiness, and nearly lip-puckering tang that only an aged, wild gem could give. Ponies wouldn’t understand, no matter how much I wanted them to.

A few gems later my belly was full, and my confidence was high. I threw the bag over my shoulder, savoring the lingering scent of Rarity’s perfume, and set Applejack’s hat on my head. If I kept up my pace, I’d get to the mountain by tomorrow afternoon.

The further I walked, the worse the scenery got. By midday, there wasn’t any more grass. The ground was just hard-packed dirt interrupted by deep crevices, some so big I had to jump over them. At least there were plenty of gems. Every couple of hours I’d find a new loosely buried deposit just like the one by my last campsite. Whatever I didn’t eat I threw in the bag. At first I wondered why migrating dragons would just leave them around like this, especially where any other dragon could spot them.

Then I looked up.

The sky wasn’t overcast anymore. It hadn’t been since this morning. Still, one lonely white cloud rested directly over me, just like it had the last time I’d bothered checking the weather. I set my pack down, pulled out a random gem, and threw it straight up as hard as I could. The blue sapphire spun through the air, disappeared in the fluffy white mist, and, just as I suspected, struck something else blue.

Rainbow Dash jumped up. “Aah! What the hay was tha… uh…” She looked down and saw me glaring at her. “Heh heh… Hi, Spike.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just… catching some rays?”

I picked up another gem and threw it on the ground, only because I couldn’t bring myself to throw it at her. “You didn’t think I could do this on my own, did you? What about ‘you’ve got this, Spike,’ huh? Were you just lying to me?”

She landed on the ground just as I smashed another gem against the dirt. “Whoa, Spike. It’s not like that, I—”

“I thought you believed in me! Some friend you ar—”

Rainbow scooped up a gem with her wing and jammed it in my mouth. “Quit spazzing out and let me explain! I’m not spying on you or trying to rig your big adventure, okay?”

I crunched the gem between my teeth and spit out the shards. “Did Twilight put you up to this?”

“Pfft, are you kidding? She’d go ballistic if she knew I went against Celestia’s orders.”

My anger vanished. “Oh my gosh, you can’t be here! Celestia said it’s not safe for ponies!”

Rainbow grinned. “Relax, Spike, I’ve got it all figured out.” She pointed to the mountain. “Turns out the actual border of Equestria is at this river right in front of the mountain, so it’s totally fine that I’m here.”

I turned away and crossed my arms. “No, it’s not.”

“Hey! Is this the thanks I get after I fly out here to—”

“To what? To help me? To do everything that I can’t?”

“Ugh, Spike. I don’t think you’re some helpless baby, okay? Just get that through your head already.”

I shut my eyes tight. “Then… why?” I was still really mad at her, but I was getting even madder at myself for acting mean. I hadn’t seen another living soul since the train, and here I was pushing a friend away.

She let out a sigh. “Because… because I’ve been out on my own like this before, and it stinks. Having no friends to hang with is the worst thing ever, and I didn’t want you have to do that for a whole week, or however long Twilight figured you’d be gone. I was gonna fly down tonight and surprise you.”

“So why did you have to set up gems for me to find? I could’ve done that on my own; I’ve got super-good eyesight for that stuff.”

“You walk too slow. I got bored.”

I couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. “Yeah?”

“Totally! Besides, I knew finding ’em in advance would speed you up.”

I touched my claws together. I still felt like I should be angry, but I didn’t want to be. Rainbow was right; being completely alone felt awful. I looked up at her and nodded. “I guess you can stick around until we get to the border… but no more helping me, okay? I’m gonna do this on my own, just like I said I would.”

She grinned. “You got it, Spike. I’m just here to keep you company… and to give you a kick in the tail if you don’t walk fast enough.”

“Deal.”

It turned out to be a good day after all. Rainbow and I don’t hang out much. I can’t fly like her, or run fast enough to keep up. I don’t even read as much as her, which is saying something. Still, it was fun having her flying next to me the whole time, telling me all about the new moves she was working on, and how they were totally going to blow Spitfire’s mind.

That trend continued as we set up camp after dinner. Once Rainbow Dash ran out of Wonderbolts stories, she started on our friends.

“— and then Fluttershy went ‘yay’ in this super-quiet voice again!”

I laughed as I set up my sleeping bag. “Heh, Fluttershy… you’ve known her for longer than the rest of us, right? Does she ever get loud?”

Rainbow kicked her now-grounded cloud a few times and climbed on. “Eh, sometimes. You mess with her animals or something and she’ll shout your ear off. You don’t wanna do that though, she…”

I froze. “What?”

Rainbow grinned. “Bet you thought you were getting a goodbye kiss, didn’t you?”

“Huh? What’re you—” And then I realized what I was doing. The amazing bag Rarity made was right in front of me, and I was hugging it. “—It’s… uh… it’s just a really, really nice bag, okay?”

“It’s no big deal, Spike. So you like her, so what?”

I breathed out a lot of air, and a lot more tension. “Thanks.”

“Any time.”

“Do… uh… do you think she would’ve given me one if I asked?”

“Hah, I dunno. You totally should’ve asked though; she would’ve blushed so much…”

I did some blushing of my own. “So what about you?”

“Huh?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do you… like anyone?”

Rainbow’s grin vanished. “I… uh… new subject.”

“Come on, you know I like Rarity already.”

“That’s only because the whole universe knows.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

She crossed her forelegs. “Pinkie Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“Fine. I… sort of like Thunderlane. He’s kind of cute. Kind of a pushover too, though.”

I held back a laugh. “Thunderlane?”

“Hey, I’m not giving you flak about liking Little Miss Prissy Dress.”

“Fair enough.”

Rainbow reclined on her cloud. “Why’re you into ponies, anyway? Is it because Twilight raised you or something?”

“Huh? Twilight didn’t raise me.”

“What? I always figured she was like your adoptive mom.”

I stuck out my tongue. “No way; she’s more like my big sister. Celestia raised me.”

Rainbow sat up. “Celestia? As in Princess Celestia?”

“Ever since I hatched… Right up until I left with Twilight, anyway. We don’t really talk much anymore.”

“So, you’re like royalty!”

“Huh?”

She threw up her hooves. “Think about it. You were raised by Princess Celestia, and Princess Twilight is your big sister. You’re practically family, so you’re Prince Spike.”

I blushed again. I knew Celestia believed in me, but that wasn’t the same as calling me flesh and blood. My being a dragon didn’t help there, either. “Maybe, I guess. I’m fine just being Spike.”

“Aww, come on. Maybe it’d help you out with Rarity. You know how she swoons over upper-class stuff like that..”

“Yeah, but… nah. Even if I’ve got no other chance with Rarity ever, I don’t want it to be because of that.”

Rainbow grinned. “I knew you were a classy guy, Spike. I’m sure you’re making your big sis proud. Wish I had someone like that.”

“What about Scootaloo?”

Her grin faltered. “Squirt? What about her?”

“She’s practically your little sister, Rainbow.”

“That’s… different. She just follows me around because she sees how awesome I am. I can’t fault her for that, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t weird to have a little filly strapped to my leg.”

“Don’t you care about her?”

“Well yeah, of course I do. She’s awesome, too. I like helping her and—” Rainbow collapsed on the cloud. “—You’re right. She is like my little sister. Darn it, Spike, I followed you out here to speed you up, not so you could change up my whole life.”

I yawned and took a longing look at my bed. “Thanks for coming anyway. Sorry I got mad and stuff.”

“It’s cool. I get that you want to prove yourself, but you totally don’t need to. We all know you’re awesome, even if you’re just a baby dragon.”

I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to say anything, not now. Not even if Rainbow just erased a whole day of my feeling great.

Long Jump

I never imagined the mountain being so big. I stood less than a thousand paces from the base of what looked like a pillar of stone holding up the sky itself. The column of smoke, the one that originally started me on this journey, came from a massive opening midway up the mountain. Black clouds of ash escaped the opening in small bursts every few minutes: the breath of a waking dragon, possibly one of the two dragons that brought me into the world.

If only I’d thought up some questions to ask. I hadn’t done much thinking since the previous night. Deep down, I knew Rainbow hadn’t meant to hurt my feelings, but it hurt all the same. I don’t whisper ‘I’m awesome’ in my sleep like she does. Her opinion on my current challenge wasn’t doing us any favors, either.

According to the map, the mountain was separated from Equestria by a small river. Swimming didn’t scare me, and neither did hiking across a dry river bed. The chasm in front of me wasn’t either of those, and it made my heart pound. Vertical cliff walls stood on either side of a bubbling bog of green ooze. The fumes coming from the pit burned my nose and eyes, and smelled like they’d do the same to my scales.

Rainbow stood a few hundred feet back, crouched down and ready to run. She burst forward, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake as she charged by me with her wings clamped to her sides. Her hooves thundered across the ground and then launched her into a jump off the edge of the cliff. She soared nearly halfway across the chasm before gravity started to take over. At that point she spread her wings and flew back to my side.

“I told you it’s too far to jump, Spike. If I can’t do it without my wings, there’s no way you can.”

I folded my arms. “I’m still not letting you carry me.”

“Oh, come on! Spike, this is dumb. You’re just going to turn around and go home?”

I looked at the mountain and took a deep breath. Traces of the bog’s burning stench filled my lungs. “Nope. I’m going for it.”

“What? You just saw me try the jump! You can’t even run as fast as me. You’re gonna land in that muck and—”

I glared at her. “Do you think I’m dumb, too?”

“Huh?”

“You think I’m a baby! Does that mean you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Rainbow folded her forelegs. “Well, you are a baby dragon, aren’t you?”

“Just stand back and watch.”

“Look, Spike. I know you’re not a baby baby, but you’re still way too little to do this! There’s no way—”

“I know what I’m doing. Just stand back and let me prove it.”

“But—”

I balled up my fists. “Trust me! Believe in me! Believe I can do this, for real!”

She glared at me. “What about when you’re neck-deep in that green muck? Can I help you then?”

I thought about the vials of potion Twilight packed for me, and how little I wanted to get teleported home empty-handed. “Fine. If I don’t make it and I actually land down there… you can fish me out. But if I make it across, you have to tell Scootaloo she’s your honorary little sister… and you have to ask out Thunderlane.”

She smiled, despite how nervous I could tell she was. Nothing warmed Rainbow up to a crazy idea like making it into a challenge. “And if I have to pull you out of the bog, you’re… I dunno. You’re doing all my laundry for a month, and I’m totally thinking of something embarrassing with Rarity.”

“Deal, but only if I actually land down there. You can’t come flying in until then, got it? You can’t get any closer to the bog. You can’t leave this spot at all.”

She sat down and nodded. “Got it. I won’t move a feather.”

I marched away from the edge so I could get a running start. Part of me wondered if I was making a mistake, not about the jump, but about how I sold it to Rainbow. I guess I technically hadn’t lied to her, I’d just left out a little bit of the truth. Maybe more than a little, actually.

I could feel her eyes on me as I stowed my hat, set my feet, started to run, and made what I’m sure was a pathetically short jump off the ledge. My gaze stayed fixed on the bog below me, specifically on the gas bubbling out of the green ooze. I’ll never forget that smell, a burning stench that I’d encountered only once before. I’d been alone then, too, and also off on a mission in search of other dragons. That whole thing was mostly a bust as far as learning about how to be a dragon goes, but it did teach me a thing or two about lighting a campfire without any firewood.

One puff of fire was all it took. The gas hanging over the bog, the heavy gas trapped by the high cliff walls, ignited with a whooshing blast of heat and light. I wasn’t falling anymore. I was rocketing through the air with the speed of a cannonball and just as little control. Clouds of scaldingly hot smoke obscured my view and warmed my belly. For a moment I was flying just like a pegasus, all except for the wings. What if I hadn’t timed my fire right? What if I didn’t get lifted high enough and smashed into the cliff? What if I didn’t travel forward at all and just dropped into the flaming bog?

The smoke vanished, but my panic didn’t. Clearing the bog, and most of the atmosphere, turned out not to be much of a problem. Nothing made me value wings more than looking down on so much of the world all at once. The mountain loomed in front of me, my own near-vertical runway.

I pointed my feet at the approaching mountainside and tried to brace myself somehow. Flapping my arms would’ve done just as much good. My feet landed first, followed by my hands, my head, my tail, and then my feet again. I tumbled over and over a few times before my tail got wedged between two rocks, bringing me to a painful, jolting halt.

The explosion’s roar finally left my ears, which clued me into the fact that I was still screaming. A cough and a few gasps later, I looked up from my current face-on-rock vantage point at what I’d done. The bog was a now a curtain of smoke separating me from Equestria and every pony in it, all except one. Rainbow Dash burst through the smoke and zoomed up to my side. “S-Spike?”

I nodded. “I… I did it. I really did it!”

A familiar grin spread over her face. “That was awesome! You planned that whole thing, didn’t you? What am I saying, of course you did! And all this time I was thinking you’d… you know what, forget all that. I had it right at the train station: you’ve got this, Spike. You’ve totally got this. You… crud. Do I really have to ask out Thunderlane?”

Rainbow kept talking while I picked myself up and brushed off my trusty pack. A couple of the smaller pockets in the front were torn, but at least the main compartment had stayed closed. Rarity’s craftsponyship was way past amazing. “You’re probably gonna make Thunderlane faint… Tell me all about it when I get back to Ponyville.”

Rainbow glanced back towards Equestria and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll stick around here just in case you need anything. Ponyville can wait.”

“What? Rainbow, you’re not supposed to be here at all. I don’t want you to get in trouble or get hurt because of me!”

She waved a hoof dismissively. “Spike, did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m way too fast for some monster to catch me. Besides, have you seen this place? I get that it’s bad for ponies to be here during the dragon migration, but there’s literally nopony else around for miles. I’ll just hang right here and wait for you to check out the cave, then we’ll fly right out of here.”

Another plume of dragon smoke darkened the sky overhead and quickened my heartbeat. “But—”

Two hooves grasped my shoulders. “Spike, look. I get that you want to do this all on your own, and there’s no doubt that you can, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna go back home while you’re stuck out here. You’re my friend, and friends don’t leave each other behind.”

I studied Rainbow’s earnest gaze. I don’t think I’d ever been on the receiving end of the full brunt of her loyalty before. In any other circumstance I would’ve just nodded my head and moved on, but not like this. Not when I could hear Celestia’s warning in my mind. “Okay… Okay. You’re a really good friend, Rainbow.”

She folded her forelegs and grinned. “I know.”

I opened the pack’s main pocket and stuck my hand into the rolled-up blanket, in search of the most fragile cargo of all. “Can you hold something for me?”

I tossed her one of Twilight’s potions. She swiped it out of the air and balanced it on her hoof. “Sure thing. Why’d you want me to hold this, any—”

Once again, one puff of fire was all it took. I don’t have wings or a horn, but I do have a special kind of magic all my own. Dragon fire isn’t like a lit match. I can use it to do all sorts of things, like send letters to Princess Celestia, or vaporize a glass vial while leaving the pony holding it untouched.

Rainbow Dash vanished in a blast of light, leaving me with the fleeting image of the purple liquid splashing over her forelegs.

“I’m sorry, Rainbow… I’m sorry I tricked you and everything but… but I can’t let you get hurt out here because of me.”

Here Be Dragons

Hiking to the tunnel opening took most of the afternoon. I sat at the mouth of the tunnel for an hour at least, both to catch my breath and to collect my thoughts. The fire on the bog wasn’t raging like before, but the curtain of white smoke it created was still there. I was outside of Equestria, cut off from my friends by almost all measures.

Rainbow Dash was home now, completely safe and probably really angry. Hopefully she wouldn’t come after me again. It’s not as if I asked her to shadow me this whole time. It was nice to sit around last night and talk, but that didn't mean I needed a babysitter. I figured jumping the bog all by myself would’ve proven that to both of us. Instead I felt even worse than before. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was just a little baby who’d made it this far on luck alone.

Warm air blew out of the tunnel, and a wisp of black smoke followed. Somehow this entrance, a black abyss bigger than the side of a house, was more menacing than the mountain it burrowed into. Still, the only way I’d complete my mission, and find out if I really was a baby, was by stepping into the dark.

I walked, very slowly at first, out of the sunlight. I kept a hand against one of the walls and soon found myself tracing my claws along the deep gouges that lined it. This was more than a convenient spot to take a five-hundred-year nap; dragon claws had created this tunnel and presumably whatever it led to. Maybe I was on my way to some sort of sparkling palace, like a dragon version of Canterlot. More warm air blew past my face, along with the unmistakable scent of dragon breath. Despite all of my fears, I started walking faster.

The tunnel felt nearly as steep as the mountainside. Each footfall seemed to last a little longer than it should have, making me wonder if I was about to walk off a ledge. Blasts of my fire breath gave me fleeting glimpses of the rock in front of my feet and the wall next to me, but nothing more. The tunnel’s opposite wall was lost in the darkness, and I was starting to feel like I might be next.

“S-snap out of it, S-Spike. It’s just dark, that’s all!”

I pulled Applejack’s hat out and set it on my head. There wasn’t any sun to keep out of my eyes, but the tunnel couldn’t exactly get any darker. I ran my hands along the brim, took a moment to think about how soon I’d be back home, and reached out to put my hand back on the wall.

Except the wall wasn’t there.

My footsteps stopped, and my heart nearly did the same. “W-where am I?”

A fresh blast of hot air nearly knocked me down. I retreated a few steps and finally found the tunnel wall, or at least a wall. The ground was flat here, and at this point I was too turned around to tell which way I’d come from. The only thing I knew for certain is that I’d left the tunnel and entered a cave.

Something big stirred in the darkness nearby, as if the mountain itself were flexing its muscles.

Then I heard a voice, a voice so deep that it shook the ground under my feet with a mere whisper.

“What are you doing in my cave, you—” the next blast of air traveled into the cave instead of out “—dragon! Is that a dragon I smell?”

I nodded at first, and was relieved to realize he couldn’t see me. “Y-yes! I-I don’t mean any harm! I-I only wanted to talk.”

I could feel the other dragon’s stare piercing through the darkness. “Hmmm… Your talk isn’t that of a dragon; why have you trespassed in my domain, if not to plunder my hoard?”

“I… I… I th-think we might be related. M-my egg was found around here, and—”

“Come closer.”

“Huh?”

“Closer! I smell that you are dragon, but not clearly enough to know if you are of my brood.”

My eyes were useless here, but I still stepped towards the sound of the voice.

“Yes, that’s it. Come closer still. Closer that we might sense each other.”

The dragon sniffed me again and nearly pulled off my hat in the process. “Hmmm. You are like no dragon I have smelled before, but there is something familiar. Perhaps if I…”

The whole cave shook, and two points of green flickering light appeared in the darkness: beads of fire from the dragon’s nostrils. I could see the outline of his face: purple and green scales, sharp teeth, and two green eyes that shone brighter than the fire illuminating them.

The dragon’s mouth curved into a smile. “Why, you are barely a whelp fresh out of the egg. Still… Your scales… Their coloration is unmistakable.”

I looked down at myself. “It is?”

“There is but one purple and green bloodline left among dragonkind, and I am its head. If your egg was taken from this cave, you are my own. You are my son.”

All the questions I hadn’t been able to think of before came to me at once. There was so much to ask, so much to say, and yet all I could do for the moment was smile. “I’m… I mean, you’re really my dad?”

The massive head nodded. “Yes. I recognize the scent of your mother now, an aroma I had nearly forgotten.”

“What… happened to her?”

Air gusted all around me, but not from the dragon’s breath. Two massive wings created a gale and stopped it just as quickly.

“Let us not speak of such things, not before I know the reason for your sudden return to the nest.”

“Me? I-I don’t really know much. I was hoping you could tell me. Princess Celestia found my egg near your mountain five hundred years ago. She thought it was abandoned, so she brought it back to Canterlot and tried to hatch me. It’s a long story, but… Well, I’ve been living with ponies ever since, and I came here to try to find out where I came from.”

The fire doubled in brightness, and for a moment the gale winds returned. “Ponies! They dare to steal the egg of an elder dragon?”

“No, not steal! Celestia would never do that!”

The dragon’s face drew closer. “I’ve awoken to a better world indeed, if ponies have learned respect at last. When I first went to sleep, they were the worst of the insects, infesting the land with their nations, laws, and cities… corrupting the young and weak with their grand talk of ‘civilization.’ ”

“But—”

“A true dragon is not of their fleeting world of night and day! A true dragon may sleep through the rise and fall of the insects and their empires, wanting only for that which endures: a hoard and a brood.”

My questions felt even smaller than I was, but somehow that didn’t stop me from voicing them. “If dragons don’t have cities, how do they meet? Don’t they ever see each other?”

“The want of a brood may call a young dragon to migrate, but that is all. The life of an elder dragon is solitary… contemplative… nigh eternal.”

“That’s… that’s just so different. I don’t think I could ever do that. I know I’m a dragon and everything, but I couldn’t ever just sleep on a pile of gems for centuries. I’d miss all my friends, and they’d miss me.”

The cave rumbled with the dragon’s laughter. “Gems? Jewels are but candy, devoid of the life-giving magic that sustains we elder dragons through the millennia.”

“But what else is there to eat? Ponies just eat plants and they don’t live forever… unless you count Celestia. And why do you keep saying elder dra—”

A claw crashed down next to me. “This is the ignorance that comes of living among insects! You are of my bloodline, one of the oldest and purest of dragonkind, one of the few keepers of true immortality. Speak no more of these ‘ponies.’ They feed off the ground, and to the ground they return. Elder dragons require more than mere plants and gems.”

I shrank down to the ground and wrapped my tail around myself. “I guess I just don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Fire, as hot and bright as the noonday sun, scorched the cave’s ceiling and set half a millennium’s worth of moss and cobwebs ablaze. Suddenly I could see everything, and part of me, to this day, wishes I could unsee it.

The cave wasn’t in a palace, although Canterlot could’ve easily fit inside it. A single stone pillar covered in scorch marks supported the ceiling in the very center. If I hadn’t stood there myself, I never would’ve believed such a massive cave could even exist, especially with the upper half of a mountain above it.

The dragon, my father, took up most of the cave’s interior. I could see echoes of myself in his massive frame, and yet his wings sagged, and his limbs shook under his weight. I was looking at a version of myself aged thousands of years: an elder dragon and his version of a hoard. There were no gems. There was no gold. Instead, my father sat atop a pile of bones, all scoured perfectly white like only dragon fire could manage. Every eye socket in every skull stared at me from ages long past in one final expression of agony and horror.

I tried to speak, but my tears wouldn’t let me.

The dragon spoke instead. “In the light I recognize you at last, whelp. I should have smelled it from the start, even more than the stink of insects.” He stamped a foot down on the bone pile. “You smell of our failure!”

“No… I can’t be your son, I c—”

“How long have I tried to forget that day! The day when the pony explorers came, when the mere presence of their foreign magic disturbed the egg forming in your mother’s belly.”

I backed away until I was against a wall. The dragon came closer, each footfall rattling the bones on the ground. Suddenly I was looking down his snout and into those big, uncaring eyes.

“Yes, that must have been you. The tiny little egg, half the size of its brothers, not even good enough to feed to the other hatchlings. Had I known that ponies would dare try to hatch you, I would have done much more than throw your egg to the buzzards.”

I pushed him away with all of my pathetic might. “Well they did! I’m alive because of them!”

“Feh, what life? After a month out of your shell you should have been a giant and a terror among ponies. Instead you remain a wingless runt that the ground will reclaim in mere decades, just like the insects that robbed you of your dragonkind legacy!”

My watery eyes darted to the tunnel that led me here. “Then… I’ll go, and I’ll never come back! I’d rather live with ponies than be a monster like you anyway!”

I slipped off one of my pack’s shoulder straps and swung it in front of me. I thrust a hand into the main pocket for one of Twilight's magic vials. I was ready to quit. I was ready to run away and never look back.

Smoke erupted out of the dragon’s nostrils. “You shall not leave! I will not let such an insult to my bloodline walk the earth!”

My hand closed around something made of glass, something too big to be a vial. I threw the jar to the ground and ran.

Thunder reverberated through the cave as Rainbow’s raincloud escaped the confines of the smashed jar. I heard the dragon growling with annoyance, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that my hand was back inside my pack, and this time I’d found one of the two vials I had left. All I had to do was pour it over myself, and I’d be back home.

As I held up the vial, the light glinting off it vanished. I looked over my shoulder just in time to duck under the spiked dragon tail speeding towards my head. I hit the ground hard, but the vial didn’t. The swipe from the dragon tail had flicked it out of my hand, sending it spinning through the cave. I caught sight of it just before a brilliant flash of light overtook the stone pillar supporting the ceiling.

Remembrances

I don’t remember a whole lot of what happened next. I know I started running up the tunnel while I tried to get the other vial out. I know I spilled at least half of the potion on the ground, which explains why I woke up somewhere in the middle of the desert surrounded by teleported piles of rock. All I know for certain is that the mountain is half as tall as it used to be. There isn’t a tunnel. There isn’t a cave. There isn’t any dragon smoke.

In retrospect, I’m glad I spilled half the potion. I didn’t want to go home anymore. At first I thought walking back to the train would be enough time for that to change. Then I thought the overnight train ride would do it. Then I handed the conductor a couple gems and let the Ponyville station pass by.

Afternoon court was in session when I arrived in Canterlot. Ponies from all over were lined up to have a word with Celestia, all of them waiting patiently in a line that stretched from the throne room to the outer gate. None of them said anything as I walked by. Maybe they didn’t see me, since I’m so short. Maybe they didn’t know what to say to a little dragon who was busy staring at the ground.

That changed as soon as I walked past the first pony in line and entered the throne room itself. Celestia’s warm, quiet voice carried to every corner of the room, as did the rapid hoofsteps of two guards running forward to stop me.

“You there! You can’t just—”

Celestia stopped their approach with little more than a whisper. “Let him pass.”

She was at my side a few seconds later, wrapping her wing around me. Twilight would’ve peppered me with questions that I didn’t want to answer. Celestia simply said something perfect: “What do you need?”

Lifting my gaze from the floor hurt my heart as well as my neck. I stared into her eyes, those beautiful pools of boundless patience and love, and did my best not to cry. “Can… can I stay in Twilight and my old room for a while… alone? I… don’t really want to see any of my friends yet. Is that okay?”

She nodded without hesitation. “I’ll escort you there myself. You can stay as long as you need to, Spike. I’ll make sure that your other friends know you’re safe, and that they need to give you some time. Everypony who works in the castle is at your disposal, myself included.”

She briefly looked back to her royal court. “I’m truly sorry, everypony, but I have to step away for a few minutes. We’ll resume the court shortly and run as late as we need to make up for the delay.”

Collective groans traveled down the line of ponies waiting to speak to her.

Celestia clearing her throat was enough to command silence. “Equestria is built upon families. Please don’t begrudge me for taking a moment to care for mine.”

She didn’t say anything more. I didn’t either.

As soon as I was alone again, I collapsed on Twilight’s old bed instead of my own. I closed my eyes and, for the first time in I don’t know how long, genuinely slept. I tried to sleep away the tears that hadn’t fully stopped since the mountain. I tried to sleep away who I’d come from. I tried to sleep away what I’d done. Most of all, I tried to sleep away what I was. I wasn’t just a dragon living among ponies. I wasn’t even a dragon; if I was, I’d be a giant monster, and not the mindless kind like when I’d let greed take over. A real dragon version of me would be even worse, because I’d know what I was doing and still not care.

Sleep didn’t help. Every few hours, or few days for all I knew, I’d wake up, scarf down a few of the gems left over from my trip, and try to drift off again in search of something better than reality. Instead, my dreams were worse than ever. I would’ve given anything to keep my old nightmare, to just sit around on the floor and wait for one of my friends to squish me on accident.

Instead, I’m at the edge of Ponyville, running back home and getting bigger all the while. Fire shoots out of my mouth as soon as I open it, burning every building in sight to the ground.

“I’m sorry!” There goes Sugarcube Corner.

“Look out!” Goodbye town hall.

The townsponies run away as soon as they see me, even before my breath sets their homes ablaze and my giant feet finish what the fire started. They see the monster I’m supposed to be, the horrible dragon that burns them up and eats their bones.

The library always comes last, and of course my friends are gathered there to welcome a much smaller version of me back. They run away screaming too, and yet somehow I knew they couldn’t run fast enough to escape my now building-sized footsteps. One of them was going to get squished on accident, and I wouldn’t even know it. That above all made me the monster I was supposed to be: too big and dangerous to even know whom I was hurting.

Then one night, long after I’d lost track of time, something changed. Just as I was about to catch the library on fire while my friends ran away, one pony stopped. Rarity paused at the library’s door and turned back to face me.

I needed to make her leave. I couldn’t let her get burned up by my fire or crushed under one of my giant feet. All I could do was shake my head. Go away! I can’t stop myself! I don’t ever want to hurt you!

She spoke in Luna’s voice. “Is this how you see yourself now, Spike?”

After taking a moment to silently process whom I was actually speaking to, I nodded.

“Then perhaps we should go somewhere more suited to your size.”

Ponyville melted away around us. Now we were in a grassy field bordering the Everfree Forest. For me, there wasn’t much of a difference between a tree trunk and a blade of grass. Luna, now in her true form, was seated on my shoulder. “Do not fear your own voice, dear Spike. My powers in the mind of a dragon are limited, but that is one thing that I can do.”

I held my mouth open for a moment before daring to test her promise. “Is… is that why you never visit me in my dreams? My nightmares have been so bad for so long…”

She winced. “I most assuredly would have come to your aid had I known! Whilst you dwell in distant Ponyville, I can barely perceive your slumbering mind, let alone enter it. Your presence in Canterlot—”

“He never even asked my name.”

One of her hooves touched the side of my face. To me she was little more than a moth. “You found a dragon on your quest, I presume?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but… but it was awful… worse than anything I ever imagined.”

“That much is clear from your dreams. Although I have not visited you in the past, I am here for you now, Spike. Speak your mind, let me share your burdens.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, despite my attempts to hold them back. One falling drop would wash Ponyville off the map. “I can’t. I can’t talk about it. Not yet anyway. I’m sorry you came here for nothing.”

“Then merely talk about what you can. Do not fall forever silent, and do not try to carry your pain alone forever.”

She leaped from my shoulder and grew into a giant herself by the time her hooves touched the ground. She cradled me under one of her forelegs. “You need never carry what troubles you on your own, not when you have friends like me who are here to listen.”

I wanted to melt into her soft coat. The best I could do was return the hug. “Thanks, Luna. If… I mean… What should I talk about?”

“Whatever you choose to. The first step is merely to talk.”

“Okay… I’ll… I’ll try.”

I read once that all dreams are actually over really quickly, but that couldn’t have been true this time. It felt like Luna and I stayed in that field for hours.

We talked. Not about what happened, or even about anything important. Talking had never felt so good. “And that’s why Twilight sorts her clothes alphabetically instead of by color.”

Gentle laughter reverberated through Luna’s middle. “Princess Twilight is a very… thorough pony, of that there is no doubt. Do you feel more at ease?”

“Yeah. The pain’s still there, but… but I think I can do something about it. Thanks, Luna.”

“It is more than my responsibility, Spike, it is my pleasure.”

I looked out over Equestria. I knew we were still in a dream, but the sunlight peeking over the hills gave me the sense that our time was almost up. “Do you really have to go?”

Her wing wrapped around me again. “Yes. Morning is nearly upon us, both in this dream and in the waking world.”

I perked up. “That means Celestia’s going to be awake soon, right? Could I see her?”

“I will see to it. Use the night’s final hour to compose yourself. Once the day breaks, somepony will come to escort you.”

“An hour? I have to wait an—”

And then I sat up in bed. Even in the dim moonlight seeping through the shut curtains, I could tell the room was just as messy as I’d left it. My pack lay open on the floor and all my stuff, the things I’d carried so long and so carefully, were all over the place. I think I took the bag off so quickly that just about everything flew out.

I slid off the bed, and my foot touched something bulbous and cold. I knelt down and picked up Pinkie’s gift to me, a rock with a smiley face painted on it. “Hey… um… Hi, Rocky.”

I set the rock on the nightstand. “I’ve kind of got some time before I see Celestia and talk to her about… everything. Could you… keep me company until then?”

I milled around the room, collecting my things. “I’ve got some amazing friends, Rocky. Pinkie made you for me so I wouldn’t have to go all by myself. I thought it was goofy at first, but she’s way smarter than we give her credit for. It’s almost spooky, sometimes.”

I took a second look at my companion. “Even spookier than talking to a rock.”

Fluttershy’s blanket was dirty with sweat, grime, and gem fragments. I shook it out a few times and rolled it up. “Fluttershy is super-kind and sweet. She thought I might get cold, so she made me this blanket. I guess I could’ve made the trip without it, but I’m so glad I didn’t have to. It wasn’t just about staying warm; the blanket helped me remember that all my friends were still thinking about me.”

The remains of Applejack’s hat came next. A quarter of the brim had been burned off, and singe marks covered the rest. Part of me still wanted to wear it. “Applejack is the most honest, dependable, and hard-working pony I know. She gave me this hat, and she wears one just like it. When I first put it on, I felt just as big and tough as she is.” I set the hat on my head. “And I still do!”

The rain cloud bottle was gone, but I pretended I was holding it up. “Rainbow Dash never lets a friend down. Not ever. She gave me a raincloud in a jar, just in case I needed water in a hurry, and did I… did I ever.”

I grabbed my bag next. Rarity would have a heart attack when she saw what had happened to her gorgeous gift. Half of the little pockets were slashed open, and the flap for the main compartment was completely gone. I still couldn’t ever throw the bag away. “Rarity made me this, Rocky. She’s the most beautiful pony ever. It feels kind of weird saying that since… since I’m not a pony. I-I probably won’t ever have a chance with her… but maybe that’s okay. She’s an amazing friend, and I want her to be happy.”

That just left the pony who’d helped me most of all. “Twilight. She hatched me. She hatched me when nobody else even thought I would. I guess that kind of makes her like my mom, but… but she’s more like my big sister, because we’ve been growing up together ever since we met. I hope we never stop.”

I stowed everything in the remains of my bag, Rocky last of all. “Those are my friends, Rocky. They’re the most amazing friends I could ever hope for. I’m… I’m going to go see them soon, just as soon as I talk to my mom. My real mom.”

Celestia

I was waiting by the door when the sun came up. I knew any second now a guard would knock on the door and escort me to Celestia. I could’ve found her myself easily enough. After raising the sun, she likes to have a light breakfast in her private study while she looks over her daily schedule. Routines are important to her, kind of like Twilight. The difference is that Celestia is in charge of her routines; for Twilight it’s the other way round.

At last the knock came. I turned the handle, swung the door open, and froze.

Celestia stood there, looking down at me with a smile on her face. “Good morning, Spike. Luna said you wanted to see me?”

“Uh… H-hi”

Of all the things I told her, that was the easiest.

“—and then I decided to come to Canterlot instead. My dad… He’s… he’s gone. I know it was an accident, but… but I’m glad nobody ever has to worry about him waking up again. I just… don’t know what I am anymore.”

All this time we’d been seated on the floor together. Celestia didn’t move, even though the floor was cold and hard. She didn’t complain. For all I know she didn’t blink. The few times that I looked up into her face, in between marathon sessions of wiping tears away and sniffling, her solemn gaze was fixed on me and nothing else.

“That’s it, I guess.”

She shut her eyes tight for a moment, and tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m so very sorry, Spike. I’m sorry I put you in such danger.”

“Huh? It’s not your fault. I decided to go on my own. Like you said, ponies aren’t allowed there.”

“Yes, but that wouldn’t have stopped me from intervening. Had I known…”

She stood and walked to the window. I’d pulled the curtains open just before she arrived, and mid-morning sunlight was streaming in. She stood there in the light, in a pensive pose I’d seen countless times before just after she’d raised the sun.

Then her head bowed low, and more tears dripped on the ground.

For a moment, my own pain vanished. I ran forward and wrapped my arms around her foreleg. “Please don’t cry! I-I’m okay, really.”

She glanced at me with tear-streaked eyes. “I do this more often than you think. But enough about me, I came here for you.”

“But—”

Magic dried her eyes, and her smile returned. “The most important thing is that you’ve returned safely.”

“No, it isn’t! I get that you didn’t want all this bad stuff to happen to me, but you send Twilight and her friends out on dangerous missions all the time. This wasn’t any different.”

Celestia nodded. “As I said, I do this more often than you might think. The world is full of danger, Spike. It’s full of monsters beyond the comprehension of ponykind. I’ve sent Twilight and her friends after a few, but only in cases where I knew with near-certainty that she was up to the task. For every Discord or King Sombra that she’s faced, I’ve dealt with a thousand worse monsters myself, and I’ll face down a thousand more before consciously putting my subjects, my friends, or my family in mortal danger. Such is the burden of being a ruler of Equestria. Twilight may one day share a greater magnitude of that burden, but not today.”

“Then what about me?”

Her hoof rose off the ground and brushed my cheek. “You and Twilight are, without question, my family. I expect great things from you both, but there is a fine line between pushing one of you to grow and throwing you off a balcony to see if you sprout wings.”

I touched my own wingless back and sighed. “Guess I don’t have to worry about ever having those. If what he said is true, then… then maybe I’m never going to get any bigger. I-I’m not really a dragon at all. I don’t even want to be.”

“What would you like to be?”

I looked into her eyes as I wondered. “I dunno, just… Spike. I’m not a pony, so being a dragon was part of—”

“Then just be Spike. Don’t think of yourself as ‘not a pony,’ or ‘not a dragon.’ Just be Spike: my friend, my family.”

I blushed. “Thanks. What about… later? Am I always going to be so small? I don’t want to turn into a giant, but… I feel like I’m stuck between a kid and an adult.”

Celestia’s gaze drifted to the window. “I don’t know. All of ponykind’s collective knowledge of dragons likely does us little good in this case. All that I know for certain is that I’m the one who… affected your development.”

I looked at my feet. What I wanted to say next sounded so silly in my mind. “I know, but… I’m glad it was you. Even if I’m not a pony, it means you’re kind of… like my mom.”

Something changed in her smile. I could see the muscles in her face struggling to hold the expression instead of whatever emotion my idea gave her. My cheeks burned, and I looked away.

She probably thought it was dumb; there was a reason I never used the ‘mom’ word around her. Sure she’d called me family, but that wasn’t the same as calling me her son. Asking her at all was probably a bad idea, just one last shot at completing my quest and finding a parent.

I opened my mouth to change the subject, but not fast enough. Her forelegs wrapped around me, her head rested on my shoulder, and her wings formed a cocoon that dimmed the sunlight. “I couldn’t be more honored, Spike. I’ve held so many titles over so many years, but never that of mother.”

Another teardrop splashed onto my shoulder as we embraced.

Spike

The room felt so empty and silent after Celestia left.

I sat by the window for a while, watching ponies hurry along Canterlot’s streets so far below. My adventure was just about over. It turns out I didn’t have to walk to the edge of Equestria and beyond to find my family. The trip gave me some answers and experience, but most of all it gave me a greater appreciation for what was right in front of me.

I picked up the quill and parchment on the windowsill. Celestia had already started the letter for me with “Dear Mom,” and insisted that I write as often as I felt like. I touched the quill to the paper briefly, noting the black dot it left behind. Writing a letter wasn’t quite the same without Twilight or some other pony dictating the words. I took a deep breath and started to write.

I feel different now. I’m pretty sure it’s a ‘better’ different, but it’s all so new it’s too hard to tell. I think I had it all wrong when I was talking about not being a dragon anymore, and not being a pony. I’m both. I’ve got some dragon in me, and some pony too. I’m unique, and that’s okay because I’ve got you, Twilight, and Luna as my family. I couldn’t ask for a better one! I’ll write again soon.
Love, Spike.

My quill hovered over those last two words. They belonged there, of that I was certain.

I rolled up the letter and tucked it into one of the few serviceable pockets on my bag. I’d send the letter later in the day, hopefully while Celestia was having lunch. That way she could read it right away without interrupting anything, and maybe even write back. The thought of reading her reply was almost as exciting as the thought of going home.

I threw the bag on my shoulder and smiled. I didn’t feel the same, and I never would. Being happy didn’t mean I had to forget everything that happened; I just had to be able to deal with it. With Twilight and Celestia helping me, that’d never be a problem.

As I turned to leave, a series of horizontal lines on the wall caught my attention. I stepped closer and peered at the scribbly writing. Twilight would be so embarrassed to see how messy her fillyhood penmanship was. She’d drawn the lines with chalk, after Celestia told her that she could of course. Each line was labeled, and as my gaze traveled up the wall, all the way to my present height, the penmanship improved dramatically.

I started at the bottom and read my way up. “Spike, Age - 12 Moons. Spike, Age - 24 Moons. Spike, Age - 36 Moons…”

The lines did more than chart my growth. I’d been too young to notice, and Twilight probably wrote it off as me waiting on a growth spurt, but the lines weren’t spaced evenly. The jump between twelve moons and twenty four moons was nearly a quarter of my height. The next jump was smaller, and the next one smaller still. By the time the lines came up to my forehead, Twilight had had to get inventive to make her writing small enough. The last line was barely distinguishable from the previous three. My growth had been slowing down all along, and not just because I wasn’t a baby anymore. My present height is where everything stopped, probably for good.

I retrieved the chalk that Twilight had left on a nearby table and made a new line to the right of the growth chart, perfectly aligned with the last time Twilight had measured me, but far enough away to preserve her careful record keeping. I lifted the chalk off the end of the line, and labeled it appropriately: “Spike.”

I took my time heading back home, which might’ve just been me being nervous again. I bought a ticket for the last train of the day and whiled away the afternoon in some of my old Canterlot haunts. I would’ve bought my friends presents if I’d had enough gems; I'd barely been able to cover the train ticket.

Most evenings in Ponyville are pretty quiet. When the busy day ends, Ponyville ponies go home, eat dinner, and go to bed. Walking down the empty streets, my path lit by warm window lights, couldn’t have been more different from my nightmare.

Something still felt wrong. Even at a distance I could tell Twilight wasn’t home. No light, not even a single handle, flickered in the library windows. Where could she be at this hour?

A quick walk around town provided the answer. Familiar laughter emanated from Rarity’s boutique, the sound of my friends having a good time. Meeting them all at a party meant I wouldn’t get the quiet reunion with Twilight that I’d been expecting, but getting to see all my best friends at once would be just as good.

I walked up to the door and knocked. The voices inside quieted down, and hoofsteps approached the door. For a moment I started to panic. What would I say? I’d definitely been gone longer than anyone expected, but I couldn’t tell them the whole sad story in the middle of a party.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, Spike: focus! This is Rarity’s place, so she’s probably going to answer the door. Just play it cool. You’re great friends and you always will be. You’re great friends and—”

And then the door flew open. Rarity walked towards me and, without a word, gave me a hug that seemed to go on for minutes, minutes worth more than all the kisses in the world. The fire ruby I’d given her so long ago, the one she’d turned into a necklace, was pressed between us. All of my self-imposed notions of us never being more than friends had never sounded so absurd.

“Welcome home, Spikey-Wikey.”

Eventually my arms unfroze, and I returned the hug. “H-hi, Rarity. Sorry I’ve been gone so—”

“Sssh, not another word. Princess Celestia informed us that you were coming, and at this point there’s only one fitting way to welcome you back home.”

“Huh?”

She nudged me across the threshold and into the midst of a deserted party scene. The front room of the boutique looked more like Sugarcube Corner. The only thing missing was all of my friends. “What’s going—”

Ponies burst out of hiding all around me, shouting two words: “Happy Birthday!”

Confetti flew everywhere, and Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash hoisted a banner into the air. I read the two words on it again and again. “Happy Birthday?”

Pinkie gave me a hug that made it hard to breathe. “Well, more like ‘Happy Birthday Plus Two Days Because You Weren’t Back Yet And Sugarcube Corner Is Booked Tonight And The Library Is A Mess!’ ”

I did my best to nod.

The second Pinkie released me, Twilight took her place. “I’m so happy to see you, Spike! How was… Never mind. That can wait. Tonight is all about you being back home where you belong!”

I laughed. “That sounds great! What did Princess Celestia tell you, anyway?”

“Just that you were coming home tonight, and that you’d really like to have some quality time with your friends.”

Applejack hugged me next. She twisted her hoof against my forehead and laughed. “ ’Bout time, Spike. Puttin’ up with all these worrywarts is—”

Rainbow Dash appeared overhead and pressed Applejack’s hat over her eyes. “Hey, I wasn’t worried! There’s no stopping this dragon.” Her nod of approval told me everything I needed to know: we were cool. There weren’t any hard feelings. “So, Spike, are you ready to rock this birthday party?”

I grinned. “More than ever.”