"Mmmm... Momma..."
Purple scales shivered against tall grass. A sharp tail curled, grasped in tiny violet claws... squeezed...
"Mom...?" Moist green eyes flew open. "Mommy!" Spike sat up in a gasp. He panted, squatting in a round bed of flattened vegetation. He looked all around, seeing nothing but trees, boulders, and underbrush as far as the dim morning light could allow.
A light chirping sound, and then a tiny orange blob with feathers hop-hop-hopped up Spike's nubile body. Perching on the dragon's belly, a bright-eyed baby phoenix smiled at him, then nuzzled the whelp's cheek with its beak.
"Hmmmm... eh-heh..." Spike coughed out the side of toothed maw. "I was... uhhh... just thinking how awesome it'll be once we find your Mommy! Er... and Daddy too, of c-course." With one hand, he petted the orange chick's scalding feathers. With the other, he stealthily wiped a tear or two from his waking eyes. "Some night's sleep, eh, Peewee? Hope you got half the shuteye I did!"
"Eeeee!" Peewee flapped its feathers, spilling bright embers across the forest floor. "Jewels! Jewels!" it vocalized through a squawking tone.
"Eugh... already?" Spike felt around, ultimately finding his backpack. He reached in, then pulled loose a large rectangular emerald covered all over with scrapes and beak marks. "Wow, you really don't miss a beat, do you?" He held the emerald out. "Okay... just for a little while. But don't gnaw too hard. We need that thing to finish the trip, y'know."
Peewee's wings blurred in delight. It thrust its head forward, clamping its large beak over the green gem. With jerking motions of its light skull, it bit and gnawed at the rough stone. Tiny squeaks and trilling sounds escaped its narrow throat.
Spike took a moment to sit still and allow the fogginess of sleep to drift from his system. His clawed hand petted and stroked the infant phoenix's hot plumage. Halfway through the gesture—however—he watched as a few feathers molted, falling off of Peewee's crown. Any semblance of a smile faded, and the young dragon sighed.
Just then, a green glint of light twinkled in Peewee's eye. Almost immediately, the emerald in its clamped jaws began glowing.
Spike blinked. He lifted Peewee in his clutches and slowly pivoted about. He watched as the stone in the chick's beak dimmed, brightened, dimmed, and brightened again. At last—as the stone was facing north—it stayed glowing... pulsating with green resonance.
"Bingo..." Spike took a breath and stood on stiff legs. "Chewtime's over, Peewee." He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulders, and grabbed at the emerald in the chick's biting beak. "Come on. Hand it over. We got ground to cover."
Peewee's eyes glinted green again. It turned its beak away in an act of stubbornness. "Grffff... jewels..." The burning bird squeaked out the side of its mouth.
Spike sighed. His spines drooped, and yet he maintained a soft smile. "Oh, alright. Just for a little while longer." With a singular motion, he lifted Peewee so that the phoenix perched atop his spines with the emerald in its grasp. "But you'd better not swallow it!" He gripped his backpack's straps and marched on. "Trust me. I'm a dragon who knows a thing or two about how much it stinks to swallow gems."
"Mrngghhh... jewels! Jewels!"
"Yeah yeah. Heh... I know they're tasty..." And Spike hiked through the forest, heading towards a ridge of elevated granite hilltops.
"Are you sure you want to do this on your own, Spike? I mean... I know how attached you are to the little guy. Wouldn't you feel better with some moral support along for the journey?"
"I found Peewee's egg on my own, Twilight. I think it's... only fitting that I take him back to his parents by myself as well."
"Well, if you insist. But finding two adult phoenixes in the middle of a vast forest isn't going to be easy. And I seriously doubt Peewee's going to be of much help to you in tracking them down."
"He's smarter than he looks, Twilight! Why, I've even taught him to say a few words! Well... okay. Maybe just one word."
"Nevertheless, I think I have a solution for how you can find his family."
"You do?"
"All I need is a few samples of his burning feathers. Using an alchemic solution, I can enchant a stone to cast a bright light whenever it's aimed in the direction of his closest relatives. Doesn't Peewee have a gem that he loves to chew on?"
"Well... y-yeah! My prized emerald! It's his favorite. I think Peewee likes to pretend he can eat gemstones ever since he helped me bake a cake made out of the stuff."
"Well, that should be perfect! I'll use the feathers to enchant the emerald and then you can use it to find where his family's currently nested! Where is Peewee right now? The sooner I get a feather sample, the better."
"Uhm... he's in the front room of the library. But what's the big hurry, Twilight?"
"Spike, you know precisely what the hurry is."
Spike squinted. It was difficult to gauge the glow of the emerald in his claws from how bright the noonday sun was. Nevertheless, he pressed onward, marching over stone plateaus and approaching another line of forested trees.
"You gotta hand it to Princess Celestia, Peewee," Spike murmured as he shuffled along. "She really gave us a beautiful bright sunny day for a stroll. I can't imagine what a rain cloud would have done to your burning plumage. Heh..." He looked back with a smirk. "We wouldn't want a steamy repeat of what happened that one day I took you to the Spa, huh?"
Peewee's eyes were thin. The tiny bird wobbled from its perch on Spike's shoulder.
"Hey. Hey." Spike snapped his claws and tapped the chick's beak. "Wake up, bright eyes. You wanna look like a bag of lazy bird bones when Mommy and Daddy see you?"
Peewee blinked hard, shook its orange snout, and smiled tiredly at Spike. The phoenix let loose a happy chirp. In so doing, several rust-brown feathers fell loosely from its neck.
Spike's green eyes followed the falling, fluttering strands. Clearing his throat, he looked forward with a determined expression. "You're... uh... you're going to like your parents, Peewee. And I'm not just making that up! I know for a fact that they're some real cool super-phoenixes. I... I wish you could have seen them when those dragon bullies showed up. Your Mom did a bang-up job of flying your brothers and sisters far away to safety. And your Dad? Heheh! He lit up the whole night sky like a second sun. Phwooooomb... a living torch, y'know?" Spike sighed through a limp smile. "They really didn't mean to leave a cute little egg behind. They were just... super busy owning a bunch of bad guys. That's... that's nothing to be mad at them for, eh?"
"Eeee-eeee..." Peewee trilled. It teetered slightly, pecking playfully at Spike's spines. "Mmmm—Jewels!"
"Not now, Peewee." Spike waved the stone around, squinting at its pulsating surface. "Later. I promise."
The emerald glowed brighter, leading Spike towards a sloping valley below.
"Everything's going to be super awesome. You'll love it. I... I-I promise."
Peewee coughed, shaking loose more and more feathers.
Spike shuddered as he felt them turning to dull cinders, cascading across his shoulders. "And... and I'm going to be there for when you meet your folks." He gulped. "You can c-count on that..."
"But Twilight. Will... will he stay dead?"
"Of course not, Spike! He's a phoenix. Every time phoenixes molt and turn to ashes, they're biologically engineered to come back, brighter and stronger than before. It's the closest thing Mother Nature has to resurrection!"
"So... Peewee's just going to be resurrected in the end...?"
"But this is where it gets complicated, Spike. It'll be Peewee's first time experiencing such a metamorphosis. Baby phoenixes... can't resurrect on their own. They need the nurturing assistance of older, adult phoenixes to make the first few transitions."
"So, in other words, his Mom and Dad can help bring him back?"
"Precisely. Mother and Father phoenixes traditionally use their own burning feathers to rekindle the spark inside their baby chicks' inert ashes. This is their way to both bring back their offspring as well as teach them how to do it on their own in the future. It's all part of the natural cycle. Fire weening, so to speak."
"Well, that's cool, Twilight! That means once I get Peewee to his folks, he'll get over all this molting stuff and return to his old, normal self!"
"... ... ..."
"Right, Twilight? Peewee will be Peewee again, won't he?"
"It's... a bit different for infant phoenixes, Spike."
"Different? How so, Twilight...?"
"Grnnngh... guh!" Spike heaved and wheezed as he pulled himself up over a cliffside. Reaching the edge of a mountain peak, he rolled over onto even ground, exhaling with relief. "Whew... talk about a workout, eh, Peewee?" He wiped the sweat from his scales and smiled aside. "You might be the infant here, but I've still got some wings to... grow..."
There was no sign of the chick.
"Peewee?" Spike's eyeslits shrank as he spun around, looking every which way. "Peewee?!"
A weak chirp emanated from his left.
Spike spun to see. He gasped.
A frazzled, twitching specimen of a phoenix lay sprawled out across the precipice. His legs clasped at open air as he tipped, teetered... and fell.
"Gah!" Spike lunged, catching Peewee's tiny body in his claws. With a wincing expression, he sat up, cradling the bird close to his chest. "Silly little scamp! Don't you disappear on me... like... that..." He gaped at the tiny scrap of bony weight in his embrace.
Peewee coughed, sputtered, and rolled its head. Most of its feathers had fallen loose, so that a scraggy thing with mottled skin was all that remained. Exhaling plumes of smoke, the creature gazed up at Spike, its eyes sickly and its shuddering beak layered with crust. Still, despite its emaciated complexion, the chick managed a hint of a smile beneath its beak.
"J-Jewels... Eeee-ee..."
Spike clenched his teeth. Clearing his throat, he pulled the emerald out of his backpack and propped it up against the chick.
Peewee nuzzled it close. A tiny glint of green shone across its yellow eyes.
Upon seeing that, the dragon breathed a bit more calmly. "Such a brave little guy. Don't you worry one bit. I'll get you to your parents, and then you'll be okay. Twilight said so. Twilight said..." He grimaced before he could finish that sentence.
Peewee squeaked lightly. Spike petted him... only to peel loose a few more threadbare feathers. The orange strands lost their color within seconds.
Spike inhaled sharply. He clenched his eyes, suffered through a few more fuming breaths, then stood up with Peewee in his grasp.
"No time to slow down. We're going to make the journey together. You hear me, little guy? You've got tough skin. Wanna know why?" Spike bore a shiny smile as he shuffled along. "Because you're dragon kin! I mean it! You're family!" He tickled Peewee just beneath the bird's snout. "And dragons aren't afraid of a little fire, now, are they?"
Peewee smiled dizzily. It stroked its beak across the gemstone, biting limply at the edge.
"What's more, dragons don't leave each other hanging." Spike squinted ahead as he shuffled towards a line of trees. "And dragons don't..." He gulped. "...dragons don't forget."
"What do you mean he won't remember anything, Twilight?!"
"I mean that infant phoenixes—like most birds—don't have object permanence yet, Spike."
"But Peewee knows me! He likes jewels! He loves spending time with me! The last few months we've spent fishing, reading, gardening, and baking cakes together!"
"And that may be true for now. But when he turns to ash and resurrects for the first time... none of that is going to leave a mark! In fact, a phoenix's memory doesn't actually survive the transition until at least five or six resurrections into adulthood. That's another reason why it's so very important for your little buddy to be reunited with his nurturing parents! Each time a baby phoenix resurrects, it's like being a hatchling all over again!"
"But... but that's not fair!
"It's not a matter of being fair or unfair, Spike. It's just nature! That's how phoenixes grow up!"
"And just how do we know that?"
"Countless studies have been made on phoenixes throughout the ages, Spike—most of them by Princess Celestia herself. When Philomena was very young, she was observed quite closely. No permanent imprint of the Princess was made on the bird until she reached adulthood! That was over a year after Celestia first rescued Philomena from the wilds!"
"But... but..."
"Spike, I know how important Peewee is to you. But you have to let him go. And I mean more than just bringing him back to his parents. You have to trust in nature to take care of him. Peewee is going to be safe with his family again. They'll protect him, rekindle his flame, and make sure he grows up to be the strong, handsome phoenix that you would want him to be."
"But... but I don't want him just to be safe, Twilight..."
"Then what is it, Spike? Have you stopped to ask yourself just what you want for Peewee, really?"
Spike panted and panted.
The day had grown dark with the advent of evening.
Not enough stars had come out to light his path.
On shuffling claws, he limped forward, bumping into random trees and wincing as he struggled to find his way forward.
With one hand, he raised the emerald, twisting it around until the enchanted light from within glowed. Soon enough, it was pulsating brighter than ever before. He smiled... at least until he looked at his other claw.
"Peewee..."
There was no response from the shriveled, molting thing in his grasp. Layers of dull enamel peeled from the creature's beak. There were only a few feathers left, and all the heat had dwindled, leaving the fibers dead and brown. With wrinkled pale skin and sickly eyes, the chick tried to vocalize. Only a dry whimper came out, followed by sputtering, vomitous motions of its crooked neck.
Spike grimaced. "Oh Peewee... just... j-just hold on..." With a jolt, he knelt down, flattened a patch of grass, and laid the ailing infant down. "Let's rest for a while, huh? Nap time? Who d-doesn't like nap time? Eheh..." He tried to smile.
The golden shine had long gone from the chick's eyes. It barely managed a raspy sound in response.
Spike fought a lump in his throat. "I know! Jewels!" He juggled the emerald, then laid it down by the waif's naked side. "Here! Your favorite! Why don't you give it a good bite! That'll make you feel better, r-right... Peewee...?"
The chick looked into the gemstone's surface. A ragged reflection stared back. It tried moving its trembling wings, but merely slumped back with a cold shudder... inhaling and exhaling with weak lungs. Fragile ribs undulated like putty.
"Peewee... I... I know that you're not feeling well. But..." Spike cleared his throat. "You're not going to die. I-I mean... you're not going to stay dead. It's okay! You'll come back! Your parents are gonna make sure of that! Please... just please, though... I'm asking you... I'm begging you..." He clasped his claws together. "...can't you stay in one piece just a little bit longer? You're stronger than this! I... I-I know it! Dragon kin means tough skin!" He broke into a nervous smile. "And we dragons gotta stick together." He nudged the little thing's shoulder. "Right?"
Peewee's eyes struggled to stay open. It stared up at Spike, interrupted by brief spasms.
"Just hold on. You can do it, buddy. I... I want to be there when your Mom and Dad bring you back. I want them to see... I want them to know who took care of you after you got separated. Then maybe... maybe you'll... you'll..."
Peewee coughed and wheezed. It curled into a little pale ball, squeaking pitifully.
Spike bit his lip. The dragon's eyes watered, and he held a palm over his scaled face. At last, after several shuddering breaths, he murmured: "I know that Twilight says that you're g-going to be okay... and I know that the best folks to help you grow up are your family. But we're f-family too, right? And... and I'll always remember you. But... but I'm sorry if this is super selfish of me, Peewee, but I want you to remember me too. I don't want you to forget... forget..."
He sniffled, looking past his claw as tears clung to his sockets.
"Twilight says that it's a phoenix infant's nature to forget everything after resurrecting. So what?" He gulped, frowning. "Everypony says that it's a dragon's 'nature' to be tough, mean, and dangerous. And... and I don't b-buy that! Not one bit! Dragons don't have to be scary. They don't have to set villages on fire. They don't have to fly to the ends of the world... leaving behind all their friends... and... and th-their eggs." He sucked in a breath, reaching out to caress Peewee's skull. "Dragons can be sweet. Dragons can be kind... and... and th-they can love, Peewee."
He smiled as tears trickled down his purple cheek.
"If a dragon can be all of those unnatural things, then what's stopping a phoenix from being something cooler as well?" He whimpered, leaning in to nuzzle the chick close. "Can't a sweet little fireheaded guy like you remember... remember how much I love you...?"
Peewee coughed... jolted. Sparks flew from his tiny eyes.
Spike gasped. "Peewee...?"
The infant rolled, gagged, and unfolded in a brilliant plume of flame, brief as a candle and just as dim.
"Peewee!" Spike hollered, lurching forward... but there was no longer anything left to cradle. He stared wordlessly into a pile of cold gray ash. A touch of wind blew a few of the inert granules away, and soon Spike was leaning back, numb and cold.
Stars broke out overhead, casting a pale sheen over the silent scene.
With a dull breath, Spike closed his eyes. His claws formed into tiny fists... but soon went slack.
"I... I made you a promise... and I aim to keep it, little guy." Sniffling, he wiped his eyes dry and reached into his saddlebag. "You're going home... you're going to be with your family." He cleared his throat, murmuring in a low voice as he pulled out a glass jar. "Your real family."
Then, with silent finesse, he scooped up every ounce of dust and carefully—delicately poured Peewee's remains into the container.
The persistently-strobing emerald led Spike deeper and deeper into the forest. At last, it brightened into a steady glow, practically blinding its draconian carrier.
Spike squinted, then shoved the emerald deep into his opaque backpack so that he could see normally. As the shadows reformed, he took note of a tall, branching tree looming directly above him in the starlight. Squinting, he surveyed the upper boughs of the tree. At last, he caught sight of a flicker of orange feathers and he gasped.
A large brown nest rested in the nook of three spreading branches. Two adult phoenixes watched over a slumbering bed of snoring, squeaking chicks. The mother huddled closely beside the infants while the patriarch carefully stood sentry, gazing out into the surrounding forest. For the time being, the father phoenix wasn't looking in the whelp's direction.
"Hmmm..." Spike exhaled. "That's them, alright." With a reluctant shudder, he reached back into his satchel and produced the glass jar full of Peewee's ashes. He gave the container a long, melancholic look... then finally bent over to empty its contents onto the dirt floor of the forest. Within seconds, a pile of gray sediment lay before him.
Spike looked up. He squinted at the tree. The mother and father phoenixes didn't budge.
"Hmmmm..." Spike scratched his chin. Then, with a bright expression, he snapped his claws. The dragon gathered a tiny smidgen of ashes, turned tail, and climbed a tree opposite the clearing from where the phoenix nest was. He perched across from the family, waiting for the wind to shift. Then—once there was a strong enough breeze—he opened his palm and blew at the collected dust.
The ashes were carried aloft by the wind. Within seconds, they drifted past the phoenix nest. Peewee's mother and father instantly perked up, tail feathers flickering. They lifted their beaks high, sniffed the air, and looked all around.
Spike hid behind a branch, clenching his every muscle. Seconds later, he heard the tell-tale flap of wings. He craned his neck to look down at the forest floor.
The mother and father phoenixes followed the scent to the ashen pile. They perched on either side, examining the material closely and carefully.
Spike slowly, silently shimmied down his tree. His green eyes remained locked on the avian parents as he reached the trunk's face.
At last, after a few seconds, a series of high-pitched squawks were exchanged between the couple. They extended their wings in unison. Then—with practiced grace—they shook their feathers until a few burning fibers fell onto the ash pile below.
Spike watched in tense silence. All of a sudden, his eyes reflected a burning flash of light. He had to squint, his teeth shining from the luminescent display. Then, at last, he exhaled and braved a look.
Peewee stood between its parents, bearing a beaked grin as bright and cheerful as the day it was first hatched. "Eeee-eee!" It flapped its burning feathers, levitating slightly off the ground. "Eee! Eeee!"
The parents hummed with low, melodic breaths. They leaned in close, nuzzling the infant in unison. Seconds later, Peewee was placed on the father's backside, and both phoenixes carried their long-lost child back up to the nest.
Spike shuffled out into the clearing, his chin tilted up as he admired the burning display from afar. His spiny ears tickled to the sound of several baby brothers and sisters waking to join their reunited sibling in harmonious birdsong. The top boughs of the tree shone like a lighthouse with orange family mirth.
"Well, at long last, you're home, Peewee." Spike sighed, turning around with slumped shoulders. "...though you probably won't even need that name anymore." And he shuffled off, dragging his tail limply behind.
"Eee! Eee! Jewels!"
"... ... ...?!" Spike spun around. Eyes wide, he gaped up at the tree.
One tiny chick flounced higher than the rest. Its bright eyes shone with a green glint before its mother and father. "Jewels! Eeee-eee!" The mother and father exchanged glances, shrugged, and leaned in to nuzzle their youngster regardless.
Spike blinked. His eyes watered as a tender smile graced his lips. Several breaths later, he reached into his backpack. Soon, he was cradling a brightly glowing emerald. Swallowing a lump down his throat, he shuffled over... and gently placed the gemstone within a sturdy notch of the phoenixes' tree.
"There ya go, little buddy." He sniffled. "So that way, you'll always know... you're home where you belong."
That said, Spike turned around with finality... and walked away from the flame, the melody, and the squeaking in between.
Spike spent all night hiking.
However, when he finally reached the hilltops on the outskirts of Ponyville, the whelp stopped. He sat on a hill, hugging his knees and gazing up at the sky.
As the darkness faded, so did the starlight. Spike counted the clouds overhead, envisioning long snouts, sharp claws, and wide-stretching wings. The longer he stared, the more it seemed as though they were all forming together... instead of floating away from him.
Not long after, the sun broke over the east horizon. Its bright rays caught the verdant canopy of the Golden Oaks Library, so that its leaves shone before him with an inviting green glint.
Spike smiled. The tears evaporated, and he briskly waddled downhill...
And into a comfy, warm hearth.
Author's Note
Special thanks to Jake the Army Guy for the Fic Request
This was uploaded as a one-off with his permission
If I think future mini-fic requests are worth it, and the requester agrees, then they'll likely be uploaded as one-shots too
-SS&E
