Night-time. A time when all of Equestria was enveloped in a comforting blanket of darkness. A time for rest, for ponies to make preparations for the day ahead. It was also a time of beauty, when the soft glow of the moon illuminated the land, bringing out its inner beauty and hiding its imperfections in the concealing gloom. A magnificent sight for those willing to lose a few hours of sleep.
Dawnchaser had a unique opportunity to savour the night’s splendour. Had he peeked out the window, he would have seen a million twinkling stars, creating a sparkling path that curved its way through the night sky. Maybe it would have inspired him to become an artist, painting grand scenes of magic and mystery. Or a poet, weaving verses that soothed the heart.
Unfortunately, this particular scene of nocturnal beauty went unnoticed. He had other, more important things on his mind. Like his work at the library next morning. He'd probably be on his hooves all day, what with the school visit planned. He needed his rest.
He glanced at the clock that hung on his wall. The soft light of the moon crept through the window, illuminating its white face while leaving the rest of the room in shadow. The hands informed him that it was two-thirty in the morning. That was bad. He’d only get six hours of sleep at this rate. He continued to toss and turn on the couch that served as a bed, hoping that he would eventually fall into a comfortable position. Finding one, he settled down, keeping completely still. Hours must have passed. He still couldn’t sleep. The clock mocked him from its place on the wall. It seemed to squeal in glee as it showed him that only five minutes had gone by.
Dawnchaser sighed and sat up. It was going to be a long night.
Dragueis flapped his wings furiously. His wing muscles buzzed unpleasantly with fatigue and the wound on his side throbbed painfully, but he refused to stop, even to tend to his wounds. He was a real dragon, so he did as a dragon should.
Dragons did not whimper. Dragons did not fall. They simply grit their teeth and pushed through the pain until the task was finished or they died. He was set on his objective. He had to get to the Royal Palace in Canterlot. He willed his body to go on, urging it not to fail him now, not when he was so close to his destination.
“Just another half-hour. Thirty more minutes of flight, that’s all I ask for.” he mumbled to himself, repeating the sentence like a mantra.
His focus was broken when a bolt of dragonfire came flying at him from behind. He swerved to avoid it and it sailed past his head, leaving a spiral trail of flame in its wake. Twisting around, he tried to get a look at his assailant.
He spotted a large grey dragon pursuing him, droplets of dragonfire still glowing on his lower lip. But before Dragueis could issue a challenge, he was bowled over by a second dragon that swooped in on his left. Dragueis and his new enemy tumbled through the air, locked in mortal combat. His assailant pulled him close, trying to wound him with razor sharp teeth and claws.
“Traitor! I always knew you were never a true dragon!” his assailant hissed into his ear.” We will kill you and feast on your flesh!”
Dragueis had no interest in becoming a late night snack for his kin. He struggled loose, earning himself a bloody gash on the wing. Roaring in pain, he kicked his attacker away, managing to regain some altitude. He could see both of his pursuers regrouping, about to begin another round of attacks. He doubted his injured wing could survive another two or three rounds, let alone make it to the palace. It would likely fail at a crucial moment if the battle went on any longer. He needed a battle plan.
He recalled their attack pattern, remembering how the first dragon had spit dragonfire at him while the other blindsided him.
The fragments of a strategy began to come together in his head, and Dragueis broke into a grin as it all fell into place. The plan was risky, with a major chance of dying if it failed, but what the heck. He was dead anyway if he didn’t execute it.
He faced off against the two other dragons. The grey one reared its head back, dragonfire pooling in its mouth while the other soared high into the dark sky.
Dragueis registered a bolt of dragonfire coming toward him and dodged expertly, the fiery projectile missing completely. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the second dragon coming at him from the right this time.
Twisting around, Dragueis slammed his tail into his attacker, the powerful blow stunning her. He grabbed her, sinking his talons into her scaly hide. The dragon’s shrieks of pain were quickly silenced as Dragueis clamped his maw around her throat, his sharp teeth anchoring themselves firmly in the flesh. A simple tug was all it took to rip out her trachea, sending blood spurting out of her arteries.
The grey dragon cried out in outrage at his partner’s demise, and sent volley after volley of dragonfire at Dragueis. Using his newly-dead assailant as a shield, Dragueis readied his own dragonfire. His heart pounded in a steady war beat; he could feel the dragonfire boiling in his gut. He exhaled, pursing his lips as he did so, and it sailed out in a thin stream, hitting the enemy like a white-hot lance. The attack tracked across the grey dragon’s face, the flames consuming his eye in the process. He screamed as the fragile jelly structure boiled away.
Sensing his chance, Dragueis spun in a circle to build momentum, then flung the corpse he was holding at its counterpart. There was a crash as they collided and they hurtled through the air.
Satisfied that his opponents were done for, Dragueis calmed down, the bloodlust he’d felt earlier beginning to wear off. He turned back in the direction of Canterlot. He had to make haste. The battle had cost him time and energy that he could scarcely afford.
The journey ended up taking over an hour, what with the energy he had wasted in the fight. His muscles burned with exertion and his nerves felt raw from having to constantly be on guard. But he’d made it. The city lights of Canterlot glittered below as he glided high above the rooftops, giving his wings a well-deserved rest as he searched for the palace.
Canterlot’s layout had changed since the last time he’d been there, but the palace was exactly where he remembered it.
Tilting his wings ever so slightly to catch the wind, he allowed himself to ride on the night breeze. He corrected his angle of approach, intending to land in the palace grounds.
Lightning arced up from the palace balcony, striking him square in the chest. The air crackled with electricity as a powerful current coursed through his body. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, refusing to heed his commands. He plummeted to the ground, crushing a small stone fountain under his bulk.
Struggling to raise his head, he watched as a midnight blue alicorn leapt from the balcony, her wings slowing her descent so that she landed gracefully in front of him. It was Princess Luna. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she sized up Dragueis, who by now had been surrounded by members of the Royal Guard.
“Listen closely dragon. You fly into Canterlot on my watch, bearing the scars of a recent battle. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t think you were trying to invade the city.” she said, the smell of ozone thick in the air as her horn pulsed with electricity. Sparks leapt from it, obliterating nearby flecks of dust and an unfortunate beetle.
Dragueis had barely enough strength to raise his head, but he tried to get to his feet anyway. He’d been stupid. How could he have forgotten that Princess Luna ruled the night? She was nowhere near as forgiving as her older sister. Now he had one chance to convince her to leave him alive.
“I come bearing news of the dragon clans. It is a sensitive matter. I would rather not discuss it here. Please, for Equestria’s sake, I must speak with Princess Celestia.” he said, urgency creeping into his voice.
Dragueis’s voice turned into a snarl as Luna’s hoof dug into his wound. She evidently didn’t believe his story. Scowling at him, she leaned close, her delicate features hardening as she looked him in the eye.
“Nice try.” she said. “But why would a dragon betray his own kind to deliver such news? Do you really believe me foolish enough for such a story?”
Dragueis closed his eyes in defeat. He had failed. He held his breath and waited for the next bolt of lightning to end him. But it never came. Instead he heard a mare’s voice that cut through his despair, filling his heart with hope once more.
“Luna! What’s going on over there? Who are you talking to?”
Princess Celestia emerged from the palace, looking uncharacteristically bedraggled. It seemed that she’d been roused from her slumber. She stopped short when she saw the dragon sprawled on her veranda.
Luna turned to her sister, looking relieved that she was no longer handling the matter alone. She quickly explained what had happened.
“Sister! You arrived just in time. This dragon entered the city looking like he’d just been in battle. I judged him to be a threat, so I subdued him.” she said.
“He claims to have information regarding dragonkind. A matter of grave importance that he wishes to discuss with you. I felt that his motives proved... unsatisfactory”
Celestia nodded understandingly. “You did what you felt was best.” she replied to her sister.
“It is very unusual for a dragon to simply give out information on his brethren like this.” said Celestia, turning her attention to Dragueis. “Tell me, dragon. What is your name? Who are you really?”
Dragueis got to feet slowly, more out of pain than the fear of alarming the guards. Then he spoke.
“My name is Dragueisklan Spiketail. But in my time here, I believe I was known as Spike. Heed my warning princesses, for if not, Equestria will burn.”
CODEX
Equestrian Journal of Natural History- Dragonfire (redirected from Dragons)
Dragonfire is a unique substance produced only in the incendiary bladders of dragons. It consists of a collection of highly excited gas particles energised by a dragon’s innate magical power into a cohesive mass of plasma. While dragons are able to produce dragonfire from infancy, only mature dragons are able to produce sufficient amounts of the potent substance to be useful.
When faced with a threat, the thick muscles surrounding a dragon’s incendiary bladder contract, forcing dragonfire through the insulated ducts in its chest and throat to be expelled orally. By making the appropriate mouth movements and fine motor skills, an experienced dragon can utilise dragonfire in any number of ways. This gives the dragon the capability to launch singular plasma ‘bolts’ or to spit a continuous stream of plasma, allowing for tactical flexibility in battle.
It should be noted that it is the air surrounding the plasma that combusts and not the plasma itself, giving dragonfire its iconic ‘fireball’ appearance. Dragon skin is notoriously resistant to heat, but its protective qualities appear to degrade when exposed to dragonfire, possibly due to the cancellation effect experienced when magical energies of similar types collide.
This explains the severe scars found on older dragons, presumably from battles with rivals.
Luna gazed intently at the beast before her. It was twice- no, thrice her size from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail, which terminated in a wicked point. On all fours, it was easily double her height. Her eyes scanned the dragon, taking in every last detail. The entirety of its form was covered in deep indigo scales, the edges of which were pointed and sharp. A line of larger, triangular scales ran down the ridge of its back, following the curve of its spine. These were green and seemed to be harder and denser than the others. Luna had no doubt that these were quite capable of withstanding most attacks.
She resumed her observation of the dragon. Its wings, rugged and muscular, were like those of a bat; spokes of bone holding a membrane stretched between them. The membrane, in stark contrast to the toughness of scale, was designed to catch the wind and provide lift, propelling the dragon through the air. They resembled the finest leather Luna had ever seen.
A large gash marred the right wing, ugly and out of place. The wound was blackened, indicating that it had been cauterised. But by whom? The dragon himself? Her gaze moved up the dragon’s neck and on to its head.
The head was vaguely pyramidal, probably getting its shape from the skull. Its jaw was filled with rows upon rows of vicious sabre-like teeth, each curved toward the interior of its mouth. Once this dragon bit on something, or someone, there would be no escape. The air rippled with a heat wave whenever it exhaled. Two horns grew on its head, sprouting from an area slightly behind the crown of its skull. They must have been there for quite some time, for Luna could see that they were chipped and scratched. Perhaps they were the marks of numerous battles.
Then there were the eyes. By the Void, those eyes sent a chill sown her spine. Green, reptilian eyes that glittered with sentient intelligence. They hinted at a malevolent cunning far deeper than any normal being could acquire in its lifetime.
The dragon inhaled deeply, its breathing audible in the large throne room they were in. It inclined its head forward and blew out a surprisingly gentle breath over the bowl of tea set in front.
The dragon’s menacing image was diminished considerably by the sight of it half-heartedly sipping tea from an ornate china bowl.
“I’m terribly sorry for the reaction you received Spike.” said Celestia from her throne. “The guards have never seen a dragon before. I hope you’ll understand.”
“I apologise as well Spike. I suppose I should have given you fair warning.” Luna said quickly.
“Hmph. I fail to see why you had to react so aggressively. I thought I’d left that behind in the dragon badlands.” Spike complained. His voice was low and gravelly. It reminded Luna of the long walks she used to take with her sister millennia ago, before any of this princess business began.
She shook her head to clear the image. Now was not the time for warm memories. Spike had said that Equestria was in grave danger. That had to come first.
“Spike, I believe you have something to tell us?” Celestia said.
Spike looked mournful.
“Yes.” he said. “I came to deliver a warning. It’s about the dragons.”
Celestia pondered this for a moment.
“Dragons?” she mused. “Well, out with it then. What is going on with the dragons.”
“The dragons are returning Princess. And they are not the same dragons that you knew before. They come not in peace, but bring war on their wings!” Spike exclaimed.
They sat in stunned silence, just the three of them. Celestia had ordered the guards to leave so they could speak privately. Spike cleared his throat loudly.
“Forgive me. I neglected to give vital context. Perhaps I should offer some explanation.” he said.
“Please do.”
Spike began to speak.
“I assume, princesses, that no news of dragonkind has reached Equestria since our departure half a millennium ago. Hence, you are unaware of the events that have taken place.” he said. He waited for a nod of agreement. Upon confirmation, he continued. “Life after the exodus was... difficult. There was little food, less water and absolutely no mercy in the badlands that were our home.”
He paused, possibly trying to gain control of his emotions. This was a sensitive subject to him. That much was apparent.
“It was terrible. Dragon turned on dragon. We would kill each other over the smallest scraps of food. Whatever civility we had before was lost in the chaos. Much blood was spilled in those days.” he said. ”However, after about a century, the strongest dragons began to establish clans where they could be clan chief. Perhaps they did it out of ambition or a lust for power, but food was shared within each clan, so it made sense to join one.”
“For a time, there was relative peace. Enough blood had been spilt already. The different clans kept their distance from each other; nobody wanted to start a clan war. Even the food situation improved as we could now hunt in groups.”
“But then one clan, Ignisklan, started to become too powerful. Their chief, a dragon who calls himself the ‘Bone King’, had gained control of a new army.”
“He had found the wyrm. A horrible, savage bunch of little lizards. The Bone King got it into his head that dragons were superior beings, destined for something greater that what we already were.”
“Dragons began to leave their clans to join Ignisklan. And as their power grew, so did the Bone King’s ambition. He now wants to conquer Equestria and prove draconic superiority.”
Luna felt her heart beat faster as each word escaped Spike’s lips.
“It can’t be!” she said. “Surely not every dragon thinks this way.”
Spike shook his head sadly.
“No,” he said, “Not all dragons. But those who spoke out against the Bone King were quickly silenced.”
“I myself was nearly killed on the way here.” he said, showing them the blackened wound on his wing. “I implore you princesses, evacuate your subjects. Flee. Equestria is not ready for war.”
He lowered his head, signalling that he had finished what he wanted to say. Luna glanced worriedly at Celestia, whose brow was furrowed in deep thought. War? Equestria had never gone to war before. The casualties would be horrifying.
Finally, Celestia spoke.
“If what you say is true, then I fear that we are in for a fierce battle. I also understand why you would urge us to flee.”
“You say that the dragons have changed. Allow me to tell you this. Neither. Are. We. Your friends, the six who used the Elements of Harmony, may be gone. But we’ve more than made up for it. We have an army of our own now. We love Equestria, and we’ll fight to the death to protect it.” she said, a determined look on her face.
“The Elements of Harmony are not to be forgotten either. If the need arises, sister and I should be able to wield their power once more. We did it once. I don’t see why it won’t work again.” Luna added.
Spike’s response was to simply give them a worried look.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” said Spike. “It’s arisk I’d rather not take. I was raised here. Equestria is my home as much as any pony. I have no wish to see it fall to the likes of the Bone King.
Dawnchaser awoke, a shaft of light blinding him. The morning sun had found a gap in his curtains and had sent a ray of sunlight in to torment him. He cursed inwardly and hauled himself off the couch. He looked at his clock. It was ten to eight.
There was still some time to get ready before starting work.
He made his way to the bathroom, groggy and uncoordinated. Dawnchaser stopped to look out the window. Ponyville hadn’t changed in a long time, or so he had been told. The view from his window only confirmed this notion. Sure, there were shiny new houses here and there, built to accomodate the growing population. But the majority of the structures were quaint old cottages, build in the same haphazard arrangement that ponies used before they realised city planning was important.
He didn’t hate it. No, he could never truly hate it. He was just bored. Nothing ever changed. He would have moved to Canterlot, where the sparkling city lights promised a life of excitement and freshness, but he couldn’t leave the library here. It was an ancient tree which housed a library and his quarters. How this had been accomplished he did not know, but that was where he lived. His living space was upstairs, while the lower level was filled with bookshelves crammed together. He couldn’t just leave it behind. It was both his home and his source of income. He’d be homeless and destitute if he abandoned it.
Dawnchaser entered the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he saw a stallion looking back at him. A horrid, unruly savage. He brushed his teeth, watching the stallion in the mirror intently. The frothy toothpaste lent him a rabid, psychopathic look. He rinsed his mouth, took a shower and dried himself off before combing his mane. Once he was done, he looked in the mirror again. The savage was gone. The psychopath was nowhere to be seen. Now there was only his reflection looking at him.
There he was, the pony he recognised as himself.
His name was Dawnchaser, but his friends had always referred to him as Chase. He’d been Chase in kindergarten. He’d been Chase in school. And now as an adult, the entire town called him Chase.
He was an earth pony with a light brown coat. His mane was of medium length. Not as long as the mares wore theirs, but not cropped short either. It was dark brown, almost black. He knew that looked rather average. It was only his eyes that made him stand out. His irises were orange. They did look a bit out of place in contrast to his simple coat colour, but he liked his eyes. They made him feel unique. He turned so that he could see his cutie mark in the mirror. It was a four-pointed yellow star. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing when he’d gotten it, so he wasn’t actually sure what his talent was.
Descending the stairs that connected the loft to the library, he proceeded to walk between the bookcases that filled the first floor. Each shelf, almost bursting with tomes of every size and colour, had to be inspected for signs of damage. It was standard practice. He didn’t want one to break and empty a load of books on somepony’s head. He checked the library clock. A quarter past eight. The teachers from the village school would be bringing their students around at eight-twenty. There wasn’t time to eat breakfast.
A loud banging sounded at the front door. Chase was puzzled for a second, then reasoned that they were here early. He hurried to the large door and unlatched it. The door’s hinges squealed like a tortured mouse as he heaved it open. Making a mental note to oil those hinges, he looked at who had come knocking.
It wasn’t the students. Instead, there stood a young mare. She was a pretty young thing, his age actually. Her eyes were lilac, her coat was a soft shade of pastel blue. Her cobalt blue mane was long and had been swept back, tucked away behind her right shoulder. She was a unicorn, evident from the way she manipulated the brass knocker on his door. The light blue aura around the knocker faded and she stepped forward. She could see her cutie mark. It was a pile of snowballs. He knew she was an assistant teacher at the school. The students called her ‘Miss Hollyfrost’.
She was also his best friend. And a damned good snowball fighter.
“Holly?” he said, surprised. “You’re here early.”
“I know. I just needed some time to prepare myself.” she replied. “This field trip is going to be a nightmare. I can’t believe I suggested we go to the library.”
She had let herself into the building and was now pacing the room, her mane swishing around violently as she ranted nervously.
“-I mean, why would I do that? You don’t bring a seven-year old to a library! They don’t read books. You bring them outdoors so they can wear themselves out.” she said, becoming increasingly agitated.
“Whoa! Hey, calm down. Relax. It’ll be fine. They’ll listen. Besides, reading is good for them.” he said, stopping her with a hoof on her shoulder. She halted her pacing and ranting and just stood there, breathing hard. Her breathing gradually slowed, returning to a more reasonable speed. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
“Thanks Chase. I needed that...” she said gratefully. “ Well, I’d better get back to the school.”
Chase showed her out, and she nipped off toward the school. He watched her leave before closing the door and turning to face the library’s interior.
He didn’t think it would be that bad. It might be tiring to handle the students, but they were just children. All the same, he made sure the ‘No Entry’ sign was prominently displayed on the staircase. He didn’t want any nosy schoolchildren invading his living area.
CODEX
Deities and Worship (adapted from Mortal by Snow Winterhoof)
Deity worship in Equestria is, and has always been, rather limited. For as long as recorded history, ponies- be they earth, pegasus or unicorn, have revered the alicorn, a race with the traits of all three varieties. For example, a pony may still utter, “Sweet Celestia.” or something similar when he is startled. This reverence stops short of outright worship however, and is mostly manifested as extreme feeling s of respect for the alicorn.
Dragons are thought to worship ancient kings and warriors. However, since the departure of the entire dragon community, updated reports have been impossible, so it is unclear if this is still the case. It is however, assumed to be true. Following this assumption, it can be said that any dragon strong or clever enough to subdue its peers has a chance to become a deity in its own right.
Alicorn psychology however, is vastly different from that of a regular pony. Princesses Celestia and Luna generally decline to discuss their beliefs, but based on the few records in which they have spoken of it, they appear to revere ‘The Void’. The Void is neither a being nor a physical object, but a concept. As ironic as it sounds, the Void is the concept of nothingness. While this may sound absurd to you and I, perhaps the immortal alicorn find the idea of nonexistence fascinating as it symbolises death. This would explain the princesses general reluctance to speak of such a morbid topic.
