“So, Mr.Grandpa. We have to ask you to come to the castle.”

The elderly man sat on the porch, staring down at two guardsponies. Both of which were trying to usher the man into a flying carriage.

“Of course, of course. Let me just get prepared. Can’t leave without my hat, can I?” he says, turning around and walking into the house.

Both ponies followed him inside the small cabin that functioned as his home. While these two guards were all too familiar with the insides of the cabin, they never found it dull.

“Alright, just have to grab my bag…” Grandpa Baccy says, crouching down to grab a burlap messenger bag.

“Can’t forget my supplies, might need those…” He mumbles to himself, opening several different drawers, pulling out little packets full of small tools.

Both guards walked around, admiring the surroundings. Walking over to the rows of shelves, they looked over the various dolls on display. Some shaped like ponies, some like griffons, and some that looked similar to the old man they were sent to retrieve.

While the guards were looking around the room, he quickly slipped the familiar key out of his pocket, into the lock, and opened the drawer. With hands too nimble for their own good, he pulled the small box out and placed it in his pocket before closing the drawer, locking it, and tossing the key in his other pocket.

With his bag full, he grabbed a long overcoat from a nearby hook on the wall, before grabbing a hat off a mannequin that was situated in the corner. Taking a second to wipe his hand across the top, wiping off dust and wood chippings, he took a long look at his tweed cap. Faded plaid adorned the outdated cap. Three pins adorned the soft donegal. A shining sun and a cool moon were the two most recognizable ones. The last one was faded, leaving the pin much to the imagination, but he would always remember that pin.

He brushed his fingers over it, thinking back to when he first got it. He doesn’t remember their faces, but he remembers when he got it. It was his Forty-fifth birthday present from his daughter.

“Oh my love, how much longer must I go without you two?” He quietly asked himself, rubbing his thumb against the faded surface. As he wiped away any dust, he could faintly see the black lines that formed a triquetra, a celtic knot. The old hat was placed on his head, in its rightful place.

“So, boys, can I get you a drink before we go?” Grandpa Baccy asked, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady.

Both guards jumped to attention, having completely forgetting their entire reason for being there in the first place.

“Uhhh, no sir. The Princess’ requested we bring you immediately.” One says.

“But Shamrock, surely we can have a quick drink? His coffee is amazing the other guards say.” The other asks.

“I’m sorry Clover, but we’ve got a job to do.” The one named Shamrock replied, before turning to Grandpa Baccy. “Maybe on our return trip, we could grace you with a cup of our own coffee? It's not as good as yours I’m sure, but it's still pretty decent.”

Fingers lacing through his beard, he let out a hum before responding. “I’ve never been one for denying a good cup, I’ll hold you to it.”

“Good!” Clover ecstatically replied. “But first, let's get you to the castle. Are you ready?”

“I am, thank you for asking.” Grandpa Baccy said, patting his bag causing the contents to klink together.

“Alright, let's head out.”

All three exited the house, with the elderly man stopping only to close the door and lock it. Taking his time on the steps, being careful to not trip, the creaking of the wood reminded him that he was leaving his familiar domain. He took one last look at the small cabin, before steeling himself for the trip.

The two drivers of the flying carriage huffed as guards and human approached.

“Took long enough you two, and goodmorning to you Grandpa.”

With a tip of his hat he replied with his own greeting before hopping inside the carriage.

The guards who guided him to the carriage took a minute to speak with the two pegasi. While they were doing this, Grandpa Baccy took a moment to go through his bag and take inventory to ensure he wasn’t forgetting anything.

“Screwdrivers… check. Files and carving tools… check. Spare wood… check. Pipe and tobacco… check. Rosary beads… checkerino.”

With everything in order, he nestled inside his coat in an attempt to warm himself up.

After a couple minutes the guardsponies opened the door and hopped in, sitting across from him.

“So, Grandpa, you ready to go?”

“As ever as I could be, do you mind if I pack my pipe and tell a story while we travel?”

The pony names Shamrock knocked on the window dividing the party from the pegasi outside, signalling to lift off. The one named Clover chose to respond in his brother’s steed.

“Of course, let me just do something real quick…” Clover said, turning a crank that was situated under one of the windows. As he turned it, the window started to lower, only to stop at halfway down.

“There, now what story are you telling today?”

“One moment, let me just pack this.”

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a small jar with crushed up tobacco leaves. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out his pipe and began to fill it

“Good thing I cleaned this already, now, let me tell you about the time I first met with the dragons…”

-=- -=- -=-

“The road goes on, ever ever on~”

“That's quite a song Grandpa, where did you learn it?”

“Just something I picked up back home. Its from a rather lengthy saga about a hobbit and his friends traveling. Aptly named ‘traveling song’.”

“You’ll have to teach me some time.”

“Of course Celestia, but I think it's best you focus on more important matters. If the dragons here are anything like the stories in my world, then I’d rather not get on their bad side.”

“I’m not sure what those are like, but the ones here are usually quite understanding. It's the young ones and the outliers you have to watch out for.”

“Well then, I’ll keep an eye out as much as I can, but I fear my eyesight has been failing as of recent.”

“When we return I’ll set up an appointment to have your eyes checked, we may just have to get you some spectacles to see through.”

The traveling pair continued to ramble on, mostly talking about inconsequential matters. Due to his age, the elderly human was unable to walk for too long. To remedy this, Celestia allowed him to ride on her back. An act that looked quite strange to outsiders, but had been familiar between the pair.

Usually they traveled by flying carriage, but Celestia assured her guards she would be fine on her own and politely declined the carriage.

After several hours of traveling, both by ground and by flight, they arrived outside the home of the dragons. In sharp contrast to Canterlot’s elegant halls and elaborate castle, this place was more of a lair. It consisted entirely of an oversized volcano with the top cut off and rock solidified over the lava, allowing the dragons to walk safely without having to wade through lava.

“You know, Celestia, I would much rather not turn to ash. I understand that dragons are able to withstand lava and magma, but are you sure that the ground will hold?”

“The dragons can all walk across it, so I’m sure someone as light as you can be just fine, but if you’re still nervous you can stay on my back.” Celestia said in an attempt to reassure him.

“No, I must refuse. These weary legs of mine need stretching or else I’ll never be able to walk.”

“If you insist.” The alabaster alicorn said, kneeling down to let the human hop off.

After a bit of finagling, and more than enough luck, Grandpa Baccy was able to dismount his loyal steed and stand on his own two feet.

“That’ll do Tia, that’ll do.” He said, patting her side.

They both stood at the ledge overlooking the crater. Dragons of various colors, sizes, and makes were dotted across the scene. Some guarding large piles of gems and gold. Some wrestling and some swimming in the lava. If he didn’t know better, he would assume they were all kids, but the vast size of them was a clear indicator they weren’t.

He pulled out a pipe and began to smoke. “Hey, Celestia, if I smoke, do you think they’ll be more accepting?”

She looked down at him and gave a lazy chuckle, “I don’t know Grandpa, but it's worth a shot.”

Passing over the lip of the crater, they made their way down. Most of the dragons paid no attention to the new intruders, the ones that did gave curious glances and scooped their treasure in closer.

“Well, they haven’t outright attacked us. That's a positive to me.” He said, letting out a small smoke circle.

“You probably shouldn’t do that Grandpa, someone might think you’re trying to seduce them.” The princess said with a giggle.

“Nonsense Tia, I’m too old to flirt. But I’ll refrain from doing that just in case.” The human replied, waving the smoke away.

“So, Princess Celestia, I see you’ve brought a friend today.”

With a silence that was unfitting of a dragon, a scaled monstrosity towered over the human. Graying blue scaled covered the mountain of a dragon, horns growing out of the back of his head, curving around to the front, orange wings and spikes functioning as accents to his body. On his left horn was a finely crafted ring with an obsidian outline and gold layered middle section.

“Yes Dragon Lord Torch. This is Grandpa Baccy. He’s never had the opportunity to meet a dragon before, so I figured I would invite him along. I hope that is alright with you.”

“No, it is not. He is to leave immediately.” The Dragon Lord said. “It's already a stretch to let a -pony- in our home.”

“If I may intervene, I had a feeling something like this would happen, so I whipped together a little something special.” The human said, rummaging through his bag. “Ah! Here we are!”

In his outstretched hand was a finely carved statuette of a dragon. What was most outstanding about the figurine wasn’t the talented craftsmanship of it, rather, it was the wood that it was made of. Instead of the expected brown grain that most wood arts resemble, this was instead a shining glass blue color.

“Grandpa, where did you get that wood?”

“Don’t worry about it Tia, just some tree in that forest by my cottage. It had some spare branches on the ground that it wouldn’t miss.”

The Dragon Lord scooped up the human with one hand, taking the shining wood statue with his other clawed hand.

“It does look rather nice, albeit a bit small. What use is this to me?”

“Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but I happen to be the most skilled craftsman of my trade. I am the renown ‘Baccy’!”

“Well I haven’t heard of you.”

“Well you also don’t deal with magical wood too much, do you?”

The Dragon Lord looks down at his new treasure. Eyeing it over and inspecting every nook and cranny. The statuette was of a dragon, wielding an ornate staff in one hand. The staff head was spread out, like a vine wrapping around a tree, with a polished orb in the middle. On the dragon’s chest was a multicolor metallic disk.

“No, I suppose not. I do not recognize this dragon, nor the staff it holds. Is there a meaning, or is it just artistic creativity?”

“I’m glad you ask! You see, the dragon’s name is Io, the chief deity of dragons and the god of dragonkind. While I doubt it holds much merit here, Io was believed to be the creator of all things to dragons, and represented balance and peace.”

“Io is not a name that I recognize. We don’t have a dragon deity here, but the sentiment is appreciated. And the staff?”

“Yes, the staff! The Staff of Domination! It's a mythical item that is said to cast Dominate Monster, Demand, Mass Charm Monster, and Geas. It's not a real item, fortunentally, but I felt it would work well with a being of peace.”

“Interesting. Do you think you could carve a larger image? Perhaps in my likeage?

“My good sir, it would be an honor!”

-=- -=- -=-

“You carve a statue for THE Dragon Lord? That's preposterous.” Clover interrupted.

“It’s true. Took me a good month of my life away to carve that piece of art. It's not actual size, mind you, so it's technically still a statuette. A statue would be life size, or atleast close to it.”

“Still, that's amazing. I figured he would have turned you to ash as soon as he saw you, but he actually hired you. What happened after that.”

“Well I figured I could tell you over a cup of coffee, we’re almost in Canterlot after all.”

Both ponies looked out the windows, seeing the expansive castle encompass the majority of their view. The familiar towers and shops filling in rest of the scenery.

“Well then, I suppose we’ll do that.”

As the carriage made its descent, racking itself against the ground, the two guards and one traveller made their preparations to exit their flying transportation.

“Hey, Grandpa, what's that dragon god thing from? I thought you said you’ve never seen a dragon before?”

“Yeah, what was that about?”

“When I was younger, there was a game called Dungeons and Dragons, I played it all the time. Io happened to be one that I faintly remember. Came out in 1992 I believe, which has no correlation here.”

“Oh, kinda on the nose, dontcha think?” Shamrock asked.

“Kinda, but it was fun nonetheless.”

The three exited the carriage and made their way towards the castle. Shamrock and Clover lagged behind and began whispering to each other.

“Clover, what was going on with his story? Did you see the same thing I saw?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The smoke from his pipe, was it weird at all to you?”

They both thought back to the carriage ride. As Grandpa was telling his story, he would waft his hands around in the smoke. What was supposed to be smoke from the pipe, transformed into colorless images before dissipating, giving almost snapshots of story.

“I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, you’re telling me you saw it too?” Clover asked.

“Yeah, do you think he actually DOES have magic?”

They both turned to look at the elderly man, slightly hunched over and shuffling to the castle. Turning to look at each other, they thought for a moment.

…

“Nahhhhhhh.” They said in unison.

Author's Note

Not dead yet!