Gold Springs was hot, arid, and ugly. In short, it was nothing like Rarity had imagined. Oh, sure, some of the richer ponies carried velvet and gold and jingled every time they took a step, but everything was dirty.
She avoided a rude stallion who’d looked like he’d been about to barrel through her, and entered the marketplace.
The first time she’d seen it, she’d known it would be her favorite place in the entire town. The second time, that feeling had diminished to an odd sort of ambivalence. Now, she just wanted to get her purchases over with.
The market square thronged with ponies, the poor and the rich merging into a single roaring mob. The most wealthy merchants and the ones who’d scheduled well in advance sat under faded awnings, the little shade they provided keeping the direct sunlight off their wares. Most, however, were not so fortunate, and stood out in the sun with everypony else, toting wagons or bags behind them. One enterprising colt had set up shop on an empty barrel, and had a variety of stone implements arrayed before him.
Rarity leaned back as a pony suddenly appeared before her, smiling maniacally and brandishing a silver chain.
“—an artifact with every spell to keep it around for generations, it will never rust or lose its shine, and—”
Rarity pushed past the mare. When she’d first got here, she hadn’t been able to get away until night fell. You needed to be forceful here, and trying to bring up etiquette would get you laughed out of wherever you were trying to stay. Her ears still burned at the memory.
“Just a little longer Rarity. Your train arrives in two days,” she said to herself.
Her now-practiced eye soon picked out what she was looking for. If you didn’t know a fake gem from a real one, it would be a waste of bits to shop here as well as a terrible experience. Fortunately, Rarity could tell valuables from worthless glass beads. She steered toward one of the larger stalls, where a bored-looking stallion with a short gray mane pushed an amulet toward a potential buyer. The pony spat something at the merchant, then shook her head and walked off.
Rarity took her place before anypony else could, and gave the old stallion a small smile. “Rarity,” she said.
He grunted. “Magnus.”
She leaned toward him. “I need six amulets. Real gems, please.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Anything specific?”
She told him the colors she wanted for the first five, then hesitated. “And then...something for a dragon.”
He eventually gave her one of the heavy necklaces with a gem called a firemark in the middle. Then they haggled.
Rarity ended negotiations with the distinct feeling that she’d got the worse end of the deal. She slid her pouch onto the wooden counter. The stallion undid the drawstring and plucked out a series of coins with remarkable dexterity, then bent down under the counter and put down a small pile of coins. One of them had a dragon. He swept the money from Rarity’s bag away.
Rarity cleared her throat. “Excuse me Magnus, but there appears to be a small dragon on one of the coins.”
“Yup. Spend it soon, he likes to travel.”
She tried again. “I did not purchase a dragon.”
He snorted. “‘Course not. Can’t purchase a dragon, filly.”
Rarity hesitantly gripped the coin in her field. The dragon noticed, and clung to it. She levitated it into the air and jiggled it a little. The dragon refused to budge.
“How do I get him off?”
“Can’t.”
Rarity huffed. She couldn’t just leave the dragon. It was attached to a fifty-bit coin. She’d have to sleep in hovels to make it back to Ponyville without it.
“Very well, dragon. You can stay until I spend this somewhere, but you must behave yourself.”
The tiny winged lizard promptly grabbed the coin in its mouth and scampered onto Rarity’s back. She turned her head around. It placed its coin on her back, then sat on it and chirped.
Rarity eyed it, but it didn’t appear to be doing anything else. She let out a sigh. She wasn’t going to spend any more time arguing with strangers in markets. Her coat was already filthy with dust. With the way everypony else wallowed in the stuff, she almost believed every brown coat belonged to a pony who simply couldn’t bother to wash it off anymore. She levitated her coin pouch into her saddlebags, and set off.
A hiss came from behind her as soon as she left the market. She twisted her neck, ready to scold the tiny dragon, and saw it rising into the air, gripping its coin with everything it had.
A unicorn by the side of the road saw her face and hastily trotted into the market, the green glow around his horn extinguished. Rarity caught the dragon before it could fall and levitated it gently back down onto her saddlebags. They were enchanted to be resistant to levitation not her own, but the dragon wasn’t.
“Well, I can’t have every thief dragging you off all the time. I need that coin to get home..”
The dragon chirped at her, looking satisfied.
“I suppose you can sit in my saddlebags for a while. As long as most of you is inside, it should work.”
The dragon seemed to understand what she’d said. As soon as she opened the bag, it jumped in. Its head poked out and it stared at everything it could the whole way back to the stable.
When she got back, the dragon jumped out of the saddlebags and curled up in the middle of the bed, using the coin as a pillow.
Rarity glared at it. “I have to sleep there too, you know.”
It didn’t respond. Rarity sighed and shrugged off her saddlebags.
She ended up curling around the dragon. Its body gave off a surprising amount of heat for something so small, and every attempt she’d made to move it ended up...poorly. Her most recent one had allowed her to get on the bed first, but then the dragon simply went on top of her.
“Don’t you get used to this,” she warned.
One of its eyes blinked open. It flicked its tongue out at her before going back to sleep.
Morning came. She’d been dreading this since her first visit to the market. Still, she would not be deterred, no matter how much she wished some world-ending threat would force Twilight to interrupt her vacation. She’d scheduled time at a stall, and she was going to use it.
The dragon chirped as Rarity flicked through her dresses. She’d kept them in a sealed container to protect against the rigors of travel. Once she’d seen what ponies wore here, she hadn’t opened it again.
“No, no...this won’t do at all,” she said. She’d prepared them just for this trip. If she was lucky, a traveler from Canterlot in similar straits as herself might make an impulse buy for the reminder of more civilized places. Everypony here was so practical. They wanted durability and function over form, and the ponies here would often simply go without anything at all even on special occasions.
The dragon chirped again, more insistently. “Not now,” she said, waving a hoof in its direction. “I need to figure this out.”
She frowned. She could make her creations stand up to harsh conditions, but it was an entirely different process than the one she usually went through.
Maybe if she bought some sturdy fabric, she could subtly reinforce the seams. She nodded. A breakdown would do no good. She had to be—she shuddered at the thought—practical. She turned around and reached for her saddlebags.
Then the dragon tried to roar, though it sounded more like a squeak. Rarity glared at her bed. The dragon was sitting up, its coin—her coin—balanced on the edge. It had its foreclaws on the top of the coin, and was gnawing at it. Its eyes met hers.
Rarity sighed. “Of course, this day isn’t hard enough. I have to feed you too.”
It didn’t look away.
Rarity waved a hoof at her saddlebags. “Well, get in then. I shan’t have any more delays. What do you eat?”
The dragon settled into the same part it had yesterday. It didn’t answer.
Rarity frowned at it. “You must be younger than Spike. Who looks after you?”
Of course, her questions were useless. It couldn’t talk.
“Well, you need a name. I can’t just call you ‘dragon.’ I already know one.”
Rarity levitated the saddlebags onto her back and headed outside. To the market. At least she didn’t have to bring her dresses with her—she’d hired some ponies to move them for her.
“I’ll call you Chirp,” she decided. “At least, until you can talk, or somepony can tell me your name.”
Chirp chirped. She giggled.
“Yes dear, that’s you. Now, step one is to get you some food. Say something when we get close to something you’d like.”
He chirped again.
“That’s right, just like that.”
Their first stop was to an early riser selling small topaz chips. Chirp seemed to be able to tell the real gems from the fake ones as easily as she did, picking the real pieces out of a box with the topaz mixed in with pieces of painted glass.
Rarity felt the pegasus seller glaring at her back. She sniffed. She would not apologize for seeing through the merchants’ tricks.
Next she went to another pony selling amulets to ‘ward off evil.’ Surprisingly, there was a battered one with a plated gold frame that contained a sapphire shard.
After that, Chirp seemed satisfied. Rarity bought fabric from a grumpy unicorn who was only taking over the stall until her husband got back, and made sure everyone in hearing range knew it.
Her dresses had already been delivered when she reached her stall. She spread a few out on a bench in the back, and brought out her needle and thread. A few minutes of careful restitching later, and they were ready. They looked nearly the same, except for a border of crisscrossing brown thread that didn’t clash with the rest of the outfits. She hung them on a few hooks prepared for this very purpose, and began on the next ones.
At first, her fears were realized. Without the shouting and brandishing of wares the other merchants were doing, almost nopony even realized she was there. Still, she would not stoop to such crass ways of begging for attention. She hung another dress up.
Eventually, the dazzling display she’d arranged caught some attention. Ponies came.
Some were thieves. Chirp hissed at those, bringing them to Rarity’s attention before they managed to make off with anything. She glared at them until they left, and convinced the more stubborn ones to move with the threat of a sewing needle being used for something other than dresses. Others simply wanted to admire the display. A few approached as if they would actually buy something. Most went away without giving her a single bit.
Then she made a sale. She helped the pony into a dress of subdued brilliance, with a silver pattern that resembled scales which became visible in the light. Her first customer was a living advertisement. Business didn’t boom, but it didn’t crash either. She averaged a sale every half-hour, and at the end of the day left satisfied.
“That wasn’t too bad,” she said as she left the marketplace. Chirp voiced his agreement. The tension of bargaining up another bit, testing for the point at which she should stop before the customer got fed up and left, the clink of coins circulating in and out, the happy exhaustion of a productive day...she could almost get used to this, if she had to. But she wouldn’t.
The next day was full of packing. The train arrived in the afternoon, and she didn’t want to leave anything behind. Every crevice was searched through, every crack peered in. She left with Chirp perched on her back, claws tensed against her fur. He seemed to know they were leaving, and gave everything goodbye chirps.
They reached the train station without any problems, though the pony selling the tickets raised his eyebrow at Chirp. “You’re bringing him with you?”
Rarity frowned. Was she? The little dragon had lived here a while. Nopony reacted to him as if he were anything other than a normal sight in Gold Springs, and he was obviously taken care of. If she brought him with her, she could be taking him away from the only home he’d ever known. It would be easy to simply spend his coin to buy her ticket back.
But she didn’t. “Yes,” she said.
“Hmmm. Looks like he’s finally growing up,” the ticket seller said. She shifted her gaze to Chirp. “You’ll find her eventually.”
The dragon chirped.
Rarity wanted to ask what she meant by that, but kept her questions to herself. If the mare wanted her to know more, she’d say so. Prying would achieve nothing other than causing her to miss her train.
So Rarity purchased the tickets for a compartment, and settled in.
Normally, she would read a book or look out the window, or maybe if she was nervous bring out her needle and thread and stitch and restitch anything that caught the attention of her subconscious mind.
This time, though, she talked. Chirp seemed content to doze on top of her luggage, curled around his coin.
“The merchant who had you before said you liked to travel,” she said. Chirp hummed at the sound of her voice. She adjusted the window, bringing it up just a hair to let a small breeze in the compartment.
“I can’t say for sure whether he meant it, or if everypony simply passed you around like...like some sort of hot potato.”
The little dragon no longer appeared to be listening. His eyes were closed, and he made tiny little growls instead of snores.
“Well, if you decide you wish to go anywhere, I would be more than happy to help you along. Until then, however, I will have to assume the worse. I suppose you’ll just have to live with me for a while. It will be a bit of a tight fit, what with Opal, and I’ll have to make sure mom and dad know I can’t have Sweetie Belle coming over and getting underhoof…”
Rarity trailed off, thinking, then gave Chirp a firm nod. “Yes, that seems doable. I’ll also have to procure a spell to keep you from setting my shop on fire. You haven’t done it yet, but when you do it is sure to be a disaster if I am not properly prepared for it.”
That settled, she leaned back in her seat and thought.
She stepped into Ponyville. After so long, the familiar sight brought a smile to her face. “This is where I live.” My boutique’s over there,” she said, pointing a hoof. “First, however, we shall have to visit Twilight. She has a dragon too, but he’s a bit bigger than you. If he’s home, you might get to meet him.”
Chirp sat up and scrambled up to her head. He must have left his coin in her saddlebags, for she didn’t feel its smooth surface pressing against her. Rarity felt a twinge of annoyance—she spent forever getting her mane arranged—but suppressed it. “If you want a view, you can simply say so, darling,” she said, demonstrating by lifting him up in her magic before plopping him back down. “But since my mane is already ruined, I suppose you being up there for a little longer can’t hurt.”
He chirped.
They reached the library before the sun dipped below the horizon. Rarity rapped against the door with her hoof. The library wasn’t supposed to close until a few minutes yet, but it never hurt to make sure she wasn’t intruding.
The door swung open, and Spike appeared with a scowl, quill and parchment in claw. His expression transformed upon seeing who it was. “Rarity! You’re finally back!” he said. He turned around, calling. “Twilight! Twilight. Guess who’s here!”
Twilight came around, books floating around her in a cloud and a wry smile on her face. “Yes, I heard—Rarity? What is that on your head?”
Rarity smiled. “Oh, him? Don’t worry, Chirp is simply the most delightful gentlecolt a lady could ask for.” Chirp leaped off her head and onto the wooden floor, basking in her praise.
Twilight gasped. “A dragon? Oh, he’s so small!” She scooped him up in her magic, cooing at him.
Spike’s scowl had returned. “He’s not that special. I bet he doesn’t even have a library,” he grumbled.”
“Oh Spike, you’re wonderful too,” Rarity said. “Why, without you I barely would have been able to find enough gems to afford making off on all those adventures.”
Twilight looked up from Chirp. “Haven’t you been getting the Princess’s stipend, Rarity?”
“Of course, darling. But she only pays the upfront costs. It’s a lot more expensive to reimburse a custom order, and some have the strictest deadlines.” Rarity’s face fell at the memory, but she rallied her enthusiasm a second later. “Ahem. But I didn’t come to discuss business. I’ve been feeding Chirp nothing but gems, and I can’t believe that’s good for him. I was hoping you’d have a list, or that I could borrow whatever supplier you use for Spike.”
The bigger dragon seemed to shake himself out of a stupor at her words, gathering up his quill and parchment and moving to another section of the library. “Well, you guys have fun. These books aren’t gonna organize themselves,” he said.
Twilight, meanwhile, had dropped her smile at Rarity’s words. “You’re right, Rarity. That kind of diet can’t be good for him. Dragons can survive indefinitely on gems, but they need something more substantial to grow. And if any of those gems were tainted...well, as I said, it wouldn’t be good.”
Rarity opened her mouth to ask what exactly wouldn’t be good, but Twilight held up a hoof to forestall her. “It’s alright Rarity. I have a few spells I can use to detect any damage. If we catch it early enough, all it will take is a few firemarks to reverse it.”
Tension drained out of Rarity. “Oh, thank heavens. Will these spells take long?”
Twilight laughed. “Not at all! In fact, it should only take a few seconds. You see, I’ve wound up the essential spells into just one spell that takes only slightly more energy than casting them one by one, since Spike kept eating everything he could lay his claws on when he was little. All I had to do was—um.” She stopped, her cheeks gaining a bright tinge. “Let me just…”
A bright raspberry glow surrounded Chirp and levitated him off the floor. He seemed able to detect the magic wasn’t Rarity’s and tried to squirm away, but Twilight’s magic just grew brighter. After a few seconds, she let him drift back down to the floor, where he scurried back up Rarity’s leg and sat on her back, hissing at Twilight.
One look at Twilight’s expression filled Rarity with worry. “Twilight—?”
“He’s fine,” Twilight said, snapping back to reality. “It’s just… There’s a spell on him. A big one. I’d need to do a few more diagnostics to figure it out.”
Rarity took a breath, then nodded and levitated Chirp back to the floor. He looked at her with a betrayed expression. “Come now darling, it’s for your own good. Somepony put a nasty curse on you, and she’s here to get rid of it.”
“I don’t think it’s a curse,” Twilight said. “It’s more like...I don’t know. It felt…” She struggled, doubtlessly trying to find words that Rarity would actually understand. Rarity appreciated the effort.
“It felt almost like honey,” Twilight finally said. “Very viscous, hard to dislodge. The good news is that this type of magic rarely has anything stopping a determined mage from dismantling it.”
That said, her horn glowed, and a purple field enveloped the small dragon once more. Then it intensified, and did so again and again until it was at a level of brightness Rarity had only seen once before, when Twilight had faced down an Ursa Minor all by herself.
Rarity shielded her eyes, and then felt something...tear. Her horn picked up the resonance from all the magic Twilight was pouring out, and even inactive she caught an echo of what Twilight was doing.
Reality strained against Equestria’s most powerful unicorn with all its might, and it wasn’t enough. It broke, and the magic left with a rush. Rarity opened her eyes to see Twilight slump against the ground, panting. Apparently, all the magic hadn’t left. Twilight’s eyes glowed white.
“Twilight…?” Rarity said. “Chirp?”
The dragon was still where Rarity had placed him, his eyes as white as Twilight’s. Every so often, one of them twitched.
This was powerful magic, the type Rarity knew better than to interfere with. Still, it was always better to be prepared for the worst. “Spike!” she called.
He came, grumbling something under his breath, then stopped, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. “What….what happened?” he said.
“Spike, take a letter,” Rarity said.
“But—”
“I’ll explain in a second, Spike!”
“Alright.”
Rarity cleared her throat and gathered her thoughts. “Dear Princess Celestia,” she started.
Spike had conjured another sheet of parchment seemingly from nowhere and put down what she’d said, tip of his tongue protruding from between his teeth. Rarity continued when he was done.
“Twilight cast an extraordinarily powerful spell, and isn’t responding. Her eyes have gained a white glow, and…” Rarity continued with her description, aware that even the smallest detail could help when dealing with magic.
“Signed, Rarity,” she ended.
Spike finished up the letter, rolled it up, and blew fire onto it. The parchment dissolved into sparks and green flame, then disappeared.
Then they waited.
Spike received a reply minutes later. “Let’s see. ‘...sounds like a memory spell,’ ‘don’t disturb…’”
His eyes roamed over the letter for another minute before he rolled it up and put it on a nearby shelf filled with many similar scrolls. “She says it’s probably a memory spell, but to send another letter if something changes, or if Twilight’s still like this for more than an hour.”
It didn’t take an hour.
Twilight shook her head, and the glow faded from her eyes. “Wha…”
Chirp seemed similarly confused. He looked around until he spotted Rarity, then situated himself quite firmly on her back. Rarity winced. “Not so tight, dear,” she said.
Twilight coughed. “Gah. That was...Spike?” As soon as she saw her assistant, her gaze became unreadable, and she only stared.
“Uh...hi, Twi,” he said weakly.
The purple unicorn’s eyes filled with tears. “Spike...you’re here,” she said.
“Well… Yeah. Just like always,” he said.
Without warning, Twilight pounced, and curled around the dragon like she’d never let go. “I saw… Nevermind. So,” she said, picking up her head and staring at Rarity.
“Er, yes darling?” Rarity said.
“Spike and…” she said something unpronounceable, then shook her head. “And Chirp came from the same nest.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Twilight said quietly, gazing off at nothing. Rarity shifted uncomfortably. Twilight continued, “Do you know where Spike’s egg came from, Rarity?”
Rarity shrugged. “I assumed they were donated by dragons unable to take care of their young.”
“That’s...not far off, actually,” Twilight said. “Some dragons, ones living in Equestria, allow Celestia to place a spell on their nests. Since dragons take so long to hatch and grow, there’s a large window of time where they’re vulnerable to anything that manages to get into the nest. If the mother dies, or anyone without the right spell signature approaches, Celestia’s spell activates, teleporting the young to a special place in the palace. From what I saw…” Twilight took a shaky breath. “Chirp had just been hatched when...something attacked his mother. It was dark, and angry, and its claws were—anyway. Celestia’s spell didn’t work on Chirp, since he wasn’t in an egg anymore. So his mother used the last of her life to cast her own spell on him, sending him away and keeping him young until he got to Celestia. I...broke the requirement. He’ll grow now.”
Spike looked at Chirp in wonder. “So...I have a brother?”
Twilight nodded. “Yes, Spike. You do. I remembered...your signature was in one of the eggs.”
Rarity hesitated. She’d grown...well, just the tiniest bit attached to the little dragon. But she’d only been with him for a few days. She had no right to take him from his family. “I suppose...you will want to take care of him then, Twilight?”
Twilight seemed to see right through her. “You know...I already have my faithful assistant around here. Why don’t you keep him company, until he can decide for himself?”
Rarity stepped forward and hugged her friend. “Of course I will, darling.” She drew herself away from a shocked Twilight and looked at Spike. “Don’t worry Spike. I’ll take care of your brother. You two can see each other whenever you want.”
And they did.
