Legendary

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.