In the winter, the peaks of the Frozen North were covered in deep blankets of snow and ice. No weather pegasi ever appeared to tame the raging winter storms. Flying in the Frozen North during winter was normally considered suicide. But one winter morning, the sky dawned clear and calm. A storm the night before had blanked the peaks with snow. And another storm was due tomorrow from over the pole. But for one day in winter, the sky was clear, and the winds were calm.
On that day, a griffon took a chance and flew from the capital of the Crystal Empire, up into the Frozen North, looking for dragon signs. They were not hard to find. Near the top of the tallest peak in the Yaket Range, a continuous wisp of smoke rose straight up into the calm air. But spotting the signs, and getting to them, was a different matter. The thin air was still brutally cold. And the altitude made each breath a labor, and each wingbeat a chore.
But the griffon was determined, and finally crash landed into the snow bank in front of a huge cave. The top and sides of the cave mouth were covered in ice, and the base of the cave was almost covered by snow. The thin wisp of smoke was rising out of the hole between the two. The griffon hopped and walked up the frozen snowbank to the mouth of the cave. She looked into the darkness, then cupped her wings around her beak and called out, “Hello, I come in peace and wish only to parly!”
A deep, annoyed voice replied, “Go away.” The voice echoed in the cave.
“I have come far,” the griffon said. “I request the right of hospitality.”
“A comedian,” the gruff voice said from the cave. “OK, you may enter. But do not abuse my hospitality, or the protections you claim will be forfeit.”
“Agreed”
“You probably don’t want to use a word that could be misinterpreted as ‘greed’ when speaking to a dragon,” the gruff voice said.
“I accept your terms?”
“Better. Get inside before you freeze your feathers off.”
The entrance of the cave was shadowed from the sunlight outside and was dark. But deeper in the cave, a small flickering light appeared.
“Follow the light, it’s warmer in here.”
There was more than enough room to stretch out her wings, so the griffon hopped over the snowbank and glided deeper into the cave. The flickering light was a candle, and the closer the griffon got to it, the warmer the cave became. And in the flickering light of the candle she saw the dragon: a long sinuous body, violet scales with horns of forest green. Wisps of smoke rose continuously from the dragon's nostrils.
“I’m Spike. But I think you know that. Who are you and why do you come to my cave?”
The griffon gulped. Spike could snap her in two with one bite. She didn’t think he would. But he could. “I’m Gwendolyn,” the griffon said. “You’ve been an eyewitness to history. I’d like to hear your tales and share them, so all creatures can know the truth of the past.”
“At least you’re not a pony,” Spike said.
Gwendolyn ignored the comment and pulled a recording device from her courier bag. “I’m going to record this, so I don’t miss anything. OK?”
“Whatever.”
“Thank you for speaking with me, Spike.” Gwendolyn pulled out her notes. “You mentioned ponies. I’d like to know about your relationships with ponies.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I understand your upbringing was unusual for a dragon.” Gwendolyn looked up from her notes. “Ponies were involved, yes?”
“I was hatched by a pony. I was raised by a pony. I was loved by a pony.”
“That was…”
“Sure was.” Spike blew a long cloud of smoke from his nostrils. “There were times growing up, I thought of myself more as a pony than a dragon.”
Gwendolyn stayed silent and nodded. It was often a good way to get a subject to say something interesting.
“I have a question for you, griffon. How is she remembered?”
“You mean…”
“Yea.”
Gwendolyn leaned back and rolled her eyes up, remembering. “The griffons call her The Great Architect; she was crucial in the rebuilding of Griffonstone. The diamond dogs call her The Mother of Civilization; her peace treaties integrated them into pony and griffon society. The zebras call her The Bridge To The Future; most zebra exports are based on the trade she first negotiated.”
“She was a pony.” Spike narrowed his gaze. “How do the ponies remember her?”
The griffon was quiet for a long time. “As a mad mare,” she whispered.
Spike pounded his claws on the cave floor. Pebbles rained from the ceiling. “She gave them their freedom! She gave them their future! She believed in them more than anypony else.”
“She took their utopia from them. They’re not ‘special’ anymore.” Gwendolyn shook her head slowly. “The ponies will never forgive her.”
“And I will never forgive the ponies for what they did.” Spike laid back down and curled his tail under his body.
Gwendolyn was quiet again. She didn’t want Spike to be agitated. Ensuring the clarity of mind of the interviewee was essential when recording a true history. Not getting eaten was also a consideration.
Spike broke the silence. “The other princesses abandon her, you know.”
“In what way?” Gwendolyn asked.
“She got so famous. More famous than all of them in the end. She saved Equestria I don’t know how many times, with and without her friends. She became such a celebrity that the other princesses had her do their public jobs more and more often. Presiding over Day Court. Opening the Assembly. Raising the Sun at the Summer Sun Celebration or the Moon on Nightmare Night. Triggering the Crystal Heart on Empire Day. Each time it was an honor. Each time she was happy to do it. But she became ‘The Princess of Friendship’ in the minds of everypony. And the others took the opportunity to fade back, out of public view. And now there aren’t any princesses at all. Just a figurehead king with no power.”
Spike blew a long cloud of smoke. Gwendolyn resisted the urge to cough.
“She loved to work. To learn. To achieve and prove herself. She craved their approval. I think the other princesses took advantage of that. Took advantage of her. None of them wanted to rule, you know.”
Gwendolyn decided to switch tactics. “You said she gave ponies their future. Could you tell me about that?”
“Is that your recorder?”
“Yes,” Gwendolyn nodded.
“Made in Equestria?”
“They make the best gear I know of.”
Spike waved a claw over the top of the recording device and triggered a mild spell. The outer shell of the recorder dissolved into translucency. Inside were six purple crystals in a star pattern, and five small white crystal stars around them. “A Sparkle Array. The basis of all magi-tech.”
“They don’t call it that anymore in Equestria.”
“They wouldn’t.” Spike spat a small flame, that splashed off a far cave wall. “Changing the name doesn’t change the fact that every advanced device has at least one of those crystal arrays in it. And she invented the array. She figured out how to make them in quantity. And she figured out half the modern uses for them.”
“You’re saying she invented the future.”
“Yup.” The dragon waved his claw again, and the recorder returned to normal.
Gwendolyn looked at her notes, then back up at Spike. “Did you just mean the array, or is there more than that?”
“Did you ever ride one of the high speed trains in Equestria?”
“On my trip here. One hour from Manehatten to the capital of the Crystal Empire, via Canterlot. Very convenient.”
“She invented the magic that runs them, then had them built during the war. Did you ever go through the giant Canterlot portal to the Dragon Eyrie?”
Gwendolyn got a far away look in her eyes. “Yes. The Eyrie is magnificent.”
“She invented the magic for those too, and had all the big portals built.”
“During the war?” Gwendolyn prodded.
“Yea. Before she was princess, Equestria was in conflict on and off with the diamond dogs, the changelings, and even the griffons. Manticores were monsters you only saw in the Everfree Forest. Many ponies treated minotaurs and thestrals as strange outsiders. And there were no relations at all with the sea ponies. Barely any with the zebras. And by the time she was done…”
“They were all strong allies of Equestria.”
“Not just allies.” Spike shook his great head. “Friends.” Now he nodded. “Friends will do more for you than allies will.”
Gwendolyn thought of all the different kinds of beings that made her life richer. Would she know them all if the Princess hadn’t worked her friendship magic? “And the dragons?”
Spike leaned back on his haunches and huffed. “That’s a point. But what about now?”
“Pony - dragon relations are better now than before the war. Maybe better than in recorded history.” Gwendolyn shook her head. “But she was long gone by then.”
“Unless all the changes she caused, like the portal from Canterlot to the Eyrie, helped make better relations possible.”
“Do you think that’s why she built it?” Gwendolyn sounded unconvinced.
“Yea. She wanted to be friends with everyone. So she wanted Equestria to be friends with everyone.”
“But what about the war…” Gwendolyn accused.
Spike looked away. “I’ll never know if the war happened and she couldn’t stop it, or if…”
“If she provoked it.” This was where Gwendolyn had been heading all along. She was all ears.
Spike buried his head in his claws and fidgeted nervously. “Yea. She was an amazing chess player. Always thought more moves ahead than anypony but her mentor. When she turned her attention towards politics and finally figured out how to deal with other ponies…”
“You are saying that the Princess of Friendship could have provoked the Pony Dragon War?” Gwendolyn shook her head in disbelief.
“If she somehow thought war was inevitable or the outcome could be the best for everypony.” Spike seemed resigned to this line of questioning. “Yae, she could.“
“You make her sound like a mad mare.” Gwendolyn clenched and unclenched her claws. The thought of someone provoking a war made her angry.
“But if she had to have a war, what kind would it be?” Spike leaned forward again and was firm in his reply. “A metaphorical war in the heavens for the ownership of the sun and the moon, fought by useless nobles on all sides. With no real deaths. No cities destroyed, or fields burnt. One that cemented strong alliances with friends. With lots of bits spent on things that made everypony’s life richer when the war was over. And ultimately, with the sun and the moon moving on their own for the first time since Discord broke the heavens? The only real losers being the nobles on both sides.”
“Leading to the fall of the pony and dragon royal lines. Now ponies and dragons are friends. And Equestria elects our leaders.” Gwendolyn was shocked. “That’s the outcome she thought would be the best for everyone?”
“Maybe.” Spike laid back down and curled up. “I never asked her. She never told me.” Spike closed his eyes and blew smoke out his nostrils. “I think that her plan needed somepony that everyone could blame for all the changes. She wasn’t willing to force that role on anypony else, so she took it on herself.”
Gwendolyn sat back on her own haunches. She flipped through her notes while she tried to think of how to respond to that. “You make it sound like we all just live in a world of her devising.”
“Sometimes I feel that way. I miss her.” Spike relaxed into a sleeping position. He didn’t look at Gwendolyn. “From what you say, the world is doing OK. Better than it was when I was growing up. That’s great for you and everyone else. I just can’t live in it. I can’t live in a world that treats her as the villain. So I’m going back to sleep. Maybe it will be different when I wake up.” Spike waved a claw. “You can find your own way out.”
“Thank you Spike. Sleep well.” Gwendolyn turned off her recorder and packed it up. She took wing out of the cave and into the cold air of the Crystal Mountains. Going back to civilization was easier, it is less work to glide down than to climb up.
All the way to the Crystal Empire, Gwendolyn thought about what Spike had said, and wrestled with what to do with the information. Was it her job to reform the image of Equestria’s greatest villain?
