Curse of Shadows

I’ll begin my tale with the catalyst to my redemption. If there ever was a more eventful time that I could properly remember, it was then. At that point in my life, I had mastered the art of magic and alchemy as far as a dragon is concerned. In the time before this, I was a nobody; left adrift with no nation to lay claim to. I was simply a parasite to my brethren.

I realize why now, but that is skipping too far into the story. Soon all of you will understand why I’m the reject I am today. And it has nothing to do with who I am.

A low growl escaped through my jagged fangs as I began to feel the physical world around me again. My dreams vanished from my mind, dispersing to wherever dreams go to be forgotten. It wasn’t the fact that I was leaving the dream realm that had angered me, but more so the fact that I was waking up in the first place. Sleep never came to me easily and I hate waking up.

I forced my heavy eyes to open, breaking the sand that crusted the edges of my eye lids. The sight I received was the exact same as every day; a dark ceiling made from pure obsidian. It was cool for the first fifty years, but pretty soon it began to just serve as a reminder of my carefree youth.

A huge, jaw-popping yawn forced it’s way out of me as I stretch, groaning with each sickeningly loud pop of a random stiff joint.

“Why… Why, oh, why can’t I ever get a good night’s sleep!?” My deep rumbling voice echoed throughout my humble little cave, shaking the stone foundation slightly. I groaned and began the difficult task of motivating myself out of bed. I wanted to just lay there on the soft bed of moss and stare at the ceiling all day until I finally drifted off to sleep, but alas…

An alchemic laboratory doesn’t take care of itself.

I threw off the layer of black fur that I had fashioned into a blanket and sat up, exposing my naked body to the cold air. Any normal being would have frozen in the frigid environment I live in. I, on the other hand, have what I like to refer to as an internal furnace. Being cold blooded and all, if it wasn’t for the flames in my body, I would of either frozen myself or of been comatosed for years. I kinda like the latter. I would enjoy the sleep, but I’m not the kind of drake that sleeps instead of working. It’s not who I am.

As I pushed myself out of my bed of moss, I turned my gaze to the one item of comfort I was able to take with me from my old home. It was a picture. It wasn’t really all that comforting at all, but it brought back some memories every time I looked at it. Some were good, others were bad. It was a picture of when I was much younger, a portrait of a much happier time.

A sigh slipped through my scaly lips. A slight flicker of flame joined the rush of air, flaring out just bright enough to flash light across the glass protecting the photograph. It was a very memorable day… The day my mentor, my best friend, my adopted elder sister, discovered what it means to have true friends.

It was the picture we all took as a group, just after the defeat of… Who was it? Night Ter- No… Moon Fright? No, no. That’s not it… Oh, Nightmare Moon! That’s the name of the blasted mare in the moon. I remember it now. It was when…

I grit my teeth as my memories began to sour. “Damn you, Twilight Sparkle… Kill me, strip me of every scale on my body, gouge my eyeballs out, even! Anything but the punishment you have dragged me to the level of… How dare you take my friends from me!?” I roared, baring my terrifying fangs for the gods to cower from in my fit of rage. Green flames licked across the roof of my maw. Unable to control myself any longer, I slammed my brick of a fist into the wall of my sleeping chamber. The stone surface buckled under the brute strength behind the punch, leaving a crater where my fist was now imbedded.

“Damn… You… All…” I panted as my anger began to recede back into the darkness of my subconscious mind. This wasn’t the first time I had lost my temper over my bitter/sweet history. It happens quite often, quite a bit more than I care to admit. It’s not an easy life in the Dragon kingdom and I strive for the day when I don’t have to fight for my food each morning.

I yanked my arm from the ruined wall and sighed heavily. It was time to start the daily routine.

With a sharp snap of my claws, bright green magic filled my palm with raw arcane power. The magic pulsed like the heart of a beast, before stabilizing and forming a perfectly spherical ball of bright light. I tossed it into the air and it stopped just shy of the obsidian ceiling, floating there as it’s light illuminated part of a larger chamber than the one which I sleep in.

I added a couple more to the first, exposing a small chemical lab to my weary eyes.

Now to break this down to a more understandable level, alchemy is a highly sophisticated art of deconstructing and reconstructing matter and highly illegal to Equestrian law. The last known alchemist in Equestria was executed on sight. No trial. No mercy. Just off with his head! He wasn’t even a very skilled alchemist! Sure alchemy can be dangerous, but why all the fuss? Magic in general is dangerous. Is an art of changing the molecular structure of a substance really so bad? Just because no one understands it? Just because somepony, one blasted stallion with a mental disorder, decided it was ok to use the art to alter a pony’s body?

Blasphemy! Unacceptable! Intolerable! Fools!

Well, no matter. I’m not an Equestrian citizen anymore, now am I? So it really doesn’t matter what I do, so long as I don’t start trouble with any of the so called ‘royals of the Dragon kingdom’. Besides, I don’t do much with it, other than make my own gems and build the creatures that guard my cave. Chimeras, such useful animations. It helps that I use carcases from dead changelings to do it. No one’s going to miss them and it helps that they can still change their shape.

I turned toward a large, black metal box at the far end of the chamber. Making my way toward it, I snapped my claws again. A dull rumble sounded from inside the box as the arcane locks released their hold on my precious stash, before it swung open on it’s own. Inside was the one thing I couldn’t live without; my collection of synthetic gems and jewels.

Reaching inside, I dug my hand into the pile of sparkling necessities and retrieved two sapphires and an emerald. I popped one of the sapphires into my maw, giving a low groan of delight as the sweet taste of extremely nutrient rich gem invaded my senses. For the next few minutes, I munched on the miniscule amount of gems I had selected for myself, taking a moment to make a mental list of what needed to be done today.

If I remember correctly, I was going to test an alteration to one of my deconstruction circles. In theory, the alteration would allow for teleportation of deconstructed matter, only to be reconstructed in a receiving circle. The only problem would be the reconstruction. Then I’m going to have to deal with an injured chimera after an Arctic Wolf froze over half it’s body. Then, of course, I need food. So, I have to schedule a hunting trip. And let’s not forget I have to teach that little runt, Tumble a lesson for stealing my partical cannon!

Damn hatchlings… Think they own the place.

There’s no respect here. Honor and rank, but no respect. I had friends out here at one point in time. I thought the bond was legitimate and strong, but I was sorely wrong. They stole one of the few items I had that actually held true value to me. They stole my fire ruby; the same one Rarity returned to me on her deathbed. And they ate it.

I leaned back against my workbench as I gnawed on my tasty emerald, lost in thought. There was always something causing trouble in these environments. But, luckily, I’m smarter than most everything in this entire territory. I may not have a dragoness, or a huge hoard, or a menacingly brutal body structure, but I don’t want any of that pointless junk. Even the thought of having a dragoness lost it’s luster after a couple hundred years.

I was brought back to reality by the taste, or rather lack of taste, from my snack. Looking down at my hand, I noticed the emerald was gone, consumed abruptly by my greedy body. I sighed and wiped the crumbs off my hand. “Well… At least it’ll hold me over until I can get around to hunting…”

“And that... should just about do it!” I exclaimed excitedly as I poured a black powdery substance into a funneled beaker filled with a translucent purple fluid filling it at the quarter mark. The liquid instantly bonded to the powder, causing a quick fizzing reaction as the purple darkened to a solid black.

Changeling chitin powder and a healing salve made from synthetic dragon blood plasma. The end result; a quick and easy way to regenerate your changeling’s broken or damaged chitin. Just pour it over the abrasion and presto! Your changeling is good as new after only thirty minutes of total healing time!

It was something I figured out after one of my ‘woohoo!’ moments sometime earlier in these grueling five hundred years. Very useful. It doesn’t just work on changelings either. A dragon’s blood plasma is always charged with energy because of how much it takes just to keep us alive. It’s easy to make a replica. It’s just difficult to get any of the real plasma. A dragon’s healing factor is nearly instant.

I grabbed the beaker in a pair of tongs and turned to a pony-like figure behind me. The thing looked miserably in pain as it favored it’s right side. There was very obvious ice damage all over it’s armor-like form in the form of deep, bleeding cracks. The changeling whimpered and gazed pleadingly up at me with glowing green eyes. It’s clawed hands covered the worst of the wounds. Only moments ago, the chimera had been wrapped head to hoof in bandages, but they had to be removed for the healing salve to be applied.

“Don’t worry, Alpha. This should help you.” I said in a calm tone, attempting to make voice as soothing as possible. Hay, they’re not mindless drones, you know. They do have personality and emotions, I just hold a contract with the few I have. They’re the closest thing to to ponies and friends I have and their company keeps me from losing my mind in my solitude.

I gently moved the changeling’s shaking hand away from his body so I could assess the real damage. It was bad; very bad. It looked exactly like he had when I had first found his body stuck in a tree. Spurred by how much damage there really was, I began spreading the black fluid over the wounds, making sure to saturate the worst first before using whatever was left for the numerous others.

Alpha grit his fangs and hissed loudly in pain when the catalyst took effect in his body. Already I could see some of the smaller cracks begin to close at a near snail’s pace.

“Go rest. There’s nothing you can do until you heal.”

The changeling chimera stiffly nodded his head in affirmation. “Th-thank you, master.” Alpha said in a scratchy voice, before limping away toward the holding chamber.

I sighed and began cleaning my materials, putting vials and various substances back where they belong. My focus on my thoughts shattered when a ravenous growl sounded from my gut. I groaned in irritation. I had forgotten to hunt.

I snapped my magic claws, sending a jolt of power through the ground beneath my paws. Closing my eyes, I focused on the tremors the wave of magic had caused as they echoed back to me, searching the vibrations for anything I didn’t recognise. This is how I searched for prey. I could feel where each of my cameras were stationed, the exact layout of my glorified hole in the ground, the exact layout of the land around my home, and… Uh, oh.

My eyes snapped open as a twinge of fear gripped my heart. Without having to think much about it, I quickly snapped my claws again. This time, the wave of magic was focused on my changelings as a warning to retreat into the cave.

I began pacing back and forth as my altered changelings poured into the main chamber; my alchemic lab. I ignored their looks of curiosity and fear and spoke to myself under my breath. It was a habit I had picked up a long time ago; from somepony I’d rather forget. “I know that energy signature… It’s the king… I know it’s the king… Why is the king here…? He never leaves his throne…” I spun on the group of shape-shifters and jabbed my index claw at them, making the six of them flinch. “Which one of you did it!?”

“D-did what, master?” The largest of the group asked in a feminine voice. It was obvious this one was the beta of the group, especially seeing as the alpha was injured. Despite her height, I was still taller than the female chimera, besting her in both stature and masculinity. I knew her as Queen Bee. (Mostly because she’s the eldest female of every sentient being living in my home and I’m the king of this little palace. That; and, well… She isn’t ugly in the slightest and a dragon has needs.)

I focused my attention on the second eldest of all my changeling chimeras and growled. I knew she spoke up just to get my irritation away from her siblings, but that was a smart thing to do. Better to focus on one than to multiply it over a group. “What do you mean ‘did what, master’!?” I nearly roared at the mare. “The king is approaching my cave and we all know that never happens! What happened and who’s responsible!?”

Before Bee could form a response, a deep voice vibrated through the air of my humble little cave. It sent a shiver of dread down my spine and through my leathery wings. It was a voice that could topple a mountain if it tried hard enough, or end a war with a single word. “My, my, young Spike. Must you always jump to conclusions when a fellow dragon approaches your home?”

I froze where I stood. My eyes widened on reflex. I quickly tried to swallow down the bile in my throat, before turning to look back at the elder standing at the tunnel arch that led to the mouth of my cave. His wide set and menacing stature put anything that even tried to shame, radiating pure authoritative power. Every inch of his body was covered in dull, golden scales, shimmering in the magic light. His red eyes glistened brightly in amusement. The deep pools of scarlet radiated confidence and wisdom.

The king of the dragons. Supreme ruler of the entire territory. The alpha of the alphas. The iron claw whom held the scepter of command. Cornelius the Thrasher, in the flesh, stood tall and proud in my little cave.

I’m so dead!

Cornelius chuckled at me; probably at my terrified expression. “Oh, little alchemist, don’t look so skittish of me! I only wish to speak with thee. Dragon to dragon.”

I turned completely around to face the elder dragon. My changelings shuffled behind me, most likely hiding behind me for false safety. I raised a brow to Cornelius in confusion. “I-I’m sorry, come again? It sounded like you just said you flew all the way out to the farthest mountain range North of your mountain… Just to talk?” I crossed my arms and glared at the elder dragon. “Okay, what’s the catch?”

Cornelius boomed with laughter, holding his gut. His hysterics only served to increase my discomfort. “Oh, my friend… There is no catch! You bring amusement to this old soul. For that, I thank you.”

Dumbfounded, I just stared at the dragon king. My ear fins couldn’t believe what they were taking in, but this was too weird to hallucinate. What in hell was going on here? “Me? Friend? No catch? What!? Who the hell are you and what have you done with Cornelius?”

“That’s king Cornelius the Thrasher to you, boy!” Cornelius howled with laughter. “Oh, my word, I have not laughed like this in forever!” The golden dragon marched straight up to me with his arms spread wide, before he caught me in a brutal dragon hug.

What’s the difference between a bear hug and a dragon hug, you might ask? Well, ol’ Big Mac was the king of bear hugs. He was known for having the brute strength to break bones with his hugs, but a dragon hug… Let’s just say that if I were any other creature, I’d look like a used tube of toothpaste.

Cornelius’ thick, brutish arms squeezed the breath out of me, nearly crushing me in their strength. “C-Cornelius… Can’t… Can’t breath!” I croaked out breathlessly.

“Oh!” The golden dragon released me from his deadly embrace. I stumbled clumsily as I struggled to fill my lungs with air, leaning against my workbench for support. “Apologies. It has just been so long since I have had the pleasure of seeing thee in the flesh. It is not often there is such a dragon as thee residing in my kingdom. I do hope my subjects have not caused thee the stress they have caused me.”

I threw up my hand for Cornelius to stop. “Wait, wait, wait! Why do you care what your subjects do to me? Why do you keep calling me your friend? And why do you keep acting so freakishly giddy?”

Cornelius raised his brow at me in an expression of shock and hurt. “Dear Spike… You wound me. You are my favorite and I am stricken by honor every time I speak thy name. You are true dragon material, young Spike.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “Please forgive me for neglecting you so. But you must understand, a dragon does as a dragon does. I cannot control what they do inside of my territory, only govern them to the best of my authority. This was supposed to be your sanctuary after those sadistic equines threw you out. I am deeply sorry for the way you have been treated and it wounds the honor of the dragon kingdom.”

My jaw went slack. Did the king of the dragons; the Thrasher himself, just praise me and apologize to me!? Changelings have taken over the dragon kingdom and the queen is looking for her mutated children!

Without a second thought, I snapped my claws. The air around Cornelius erupted with bright green magic fire as I summoned an illusion-burner circle. The seven pointed star circle etched itself into the stone floor beneath Cornelius’ paws, before covering his entire body in flames.

“That’s enough, changeling! You can’t fool… me… Oh, schist…”

When the fire dispersed, all of my confidence died just as the flames had. He’s not a changeling, that’s for sure. That spell would of burned a changeling’s shape-shifting ability to a crisp. I know, because I’ve had to fight off feral changelings before. It’s not pretty.

Cornelius stood in the center of the burn scar caused by my spell. He brushed still glowing embers away from his shoulder and gave me a bemused look. “I see you do not think of me as highly as I do thee. Perhaps that is due to your harsh treatment from your peers. To answer your previous concerns, young Spike, I am not the tyrant you see me as. I only wish these childish reptiles with the arrogant nerve to call themselves dragons would listen to kindness and reason, but alas… Our species is filled to the near brim with bumbling idiots. Don’t you agree?”

I nodded numbly, still not completely comprehending the fact that Cornelius the Thrasher was trying to make nice with the runt of the pack.

“We need more like you around.” Cornelius said suddenly. A friendly smile stretched across his muzzle. “Speaking of… I have a proposal to make, dear Spike.”

Slowly, painfully slowly I began to pull my head out of my arse. If Cornelius; the ‘real’ Cornelius, not the Thrasher, but the wise dragon was trying to make friends, then who am I to say no? I mean, my only friends were a bunch of chimeran changelings that I made. What do I have to lose, other than my life and what’s left of my pride?

It took a long moment for what Cornelius said to register to my shell-shocked mind. “What is it?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Cornelius’ smile widened. It almost seemed sinister in a way. “How would you like to have some authority in this kingdom?”

He read me like a bloody book; like a freakin’ bloody encyclopedia. “What kind of authority?”

“Oh, I just do not know…” Cornelius tapped his index claw against his chin, mocking deep thought. He was teasing me with this new prospect. I felt like a damned well trained dog, drooling over the treat that sat balanced on my snout. Cornelius flashed me a sly smile. “Perhaps… The kind royals use. Rank, title, immunity, right of heir to the throne; that kind of authority.”

Now I’m interested.