I: The Dragon Who Doubted
Chapter One
The Dragon Who Doubted
It was the start of the summer holidays, and Smolder’s life was over.
She slurped at the dregs of her milkshake, trying to take some comfort in the disapproving looks the other café patrons were giving her. Locking eyes with the nearest pony, Smolder sucked loudly on the straw until a frown darkened his face. It definitely helped her mood when he climbed down with a grumble from his chair and trotted away from her to the counter.
The taste helped too. Even after the best part of a year there was a lot Smolder didn’t like about pony cuisine, but strawberry and lychee milkshakes? Definitely nicer than a rough-hewn citrine—her favourite gemstone—and the frosty needles they left behind the eyes were a challenge worthy of a young and confident dragon such as she.
Licking her lips, she studied the stallion at the counter as he looked over the pastries and cakes, and wondered whether she should order another one. Princess Twilight and her friend hadn’t tracked her down yet, so she definitely had time and besides, who knew when she’d be able to enjoy one again? Did the great wilderness-or-whatever-it-was-called have milkshakes? Come to think of it, did it even have gemstones?
Smolder tapped the inside of a cheek with her tongue. If it didn’t then she was going to have to go native. Yes, now that she thought about it, that was probably exactly what Princess Twilight was hoping for. The headmare of her school had obviously been picking up a few tips from her on how to scheme like a dragon, because it was a pretty sneaky trap.
Not for the first time, Smolder aimed a kick at the bulging rucksack beneath her dangling feet. The impact pushed it far enough away for her dragon instincts to disown it as her property, and a long-absent satisfaction began to envelop that feeling of helplessness.
Then the rucksack toppled forward against her feet. Smolder narrowed her eyes at it, though she pulled it close again regardless.
It was so unfair! Her eyes drifted across rows of neat wooden tables and vases of fragrant flowers as she imagined the louder (in more ways than one) mayhem of Sugarcube Corner. Her friends were probably there by now, having left their textbooks to grow dust somewhere while they planned their holiday adventures. Yona and Gallus were supposed to be taking Silverstream up on her offer of staying for a week in Seaquestria. The idea of the yak trying to overcome her fear of water while living in water brought a toothy smile to Smolder's lips, but it didn’t last long against her mood. The three of them were probably going to spend a week filled with danger, mischief and a whole lot of carefree fun. In short, exactly what Smolder wanted.
She looked down at the small pile of sugarcubes and condiment bottles she had unconsciously hoarded between her hands.
It was what she wanted, but she knew it wasn’t what she was going to get. The realisation nurtured waspish thoughts, and Smolder leapt into their familiar, safe embrace without giving it a further thought. So what if the others were going to have fun? She was a dragon! She didn’t need their kind of fun. Just like she wouldn’t need to remember anything about friendship once she had escaped from that stupid school and its stupid lessons.
Smolder folded her arms. No, she would go back to the Dragon Lands and leave all that rubbish in Ponyville where it belonged. Maybe beat up some dragon for their home, kidnap a few princes or something while she was at it. And then hoard. Hoard, hoard hoard—
“Enrol because I’m ordering—asking—you to. Do it to prove to me you’re not scared of going. But most of all, do it because it could make you into one of the most powerful dragons in the Dragon Lands.”
Smolder puffed out thin streams of smoke as Dragon Lord Ember’s words resurfaced, taking her back to the moment when she had tried to back out of enrolling at the school. Not that Ember’s words had been all that necessary—they had both known that Smolder had a far more important reason to attend.
She closed her eyes, and then knocked over the pile of sugarcubes and bottles with a swipe of her hand. As she replaced the items, she risked a glance up. Not a single pony was looking in her direction.
Smolder whipped her tail against her chair. How dare they take no notice of her concession? What was even the point of these lessons when nobody recognised her attempts to follow them?
The door to the cafe opened with a jingle, and warm sunlight spilled into the cosy interior. Smolder glanced round, but the pony entering wasn’t Twilight. As she turned back to her table though, she noticed the saddlebag that had been left at the table by the stallion at the counter. A neatly cut yellow gemstone sparkled between the folds of the material.
Drumming her claws against the table, Smolder averted her gaze. But the light of the gemstone had already latched onto her scales and was now burrowing beneath her skin. She shifted in her seat, but after a few seconds her resistance slipped away. After all, she decided, ignoring little trinkets was easy, but this was a gemstone! And a tasty looking one at that.
She drew in a shuddering breath as the craving grew. Was there any point in trying to resist anyway, when nobody was going to acknowledge her attempts? At the end of the day, it was the stallion’s fault for being so trusting with his possessions.
With another quick glance at the counter, Smolder shuffled her seat further round the table. The saddlebag tickled the tip of her tail, and the heat within her grew stronger as she glanced first at the gemstone, then the pony at the counter. If she got caught it wouldn’t be good at all. She had already gotten into so much trouble at school this term, and stealing would probably earn her a lot worse than a detention. It might even get her kicked out.
Smolder bit her lip. Despite her earlier angry dismissal, the thought of being expelled stilled her hand. Another part of her brain, the part she didn’t like to draw attention to, took the opportunity to strengthen that resolve.
Above all else, the stallion wouldn’t be happy. That was one of the lessons Princess Twilight kept trying to teach her—she should try and put herself in the horseshoes (or feet, claws, whatever) of others. Smolder closed her eyes, trying to imagine the stallion snapping and raging at her, or threatening to drop a mountain on top of her, or even better, plotting to steal the gemstone back from her plus interest.
She sighed. This wasn’t helping at all. Ponies weren’t dragons. And that was always where it became difficult for her. Ponies were too nice. Nice, and weak.
The gemstone caught the light in the most delicious way as Smolder pulled it from the saddlebag and studied her face in its faceted surface. Something unpleasant was pulling at the back of her thoughts, but she tried to ignore it. It was okay being mean to the nice and weak—she was a dragon. If she was nice then just what kind of dragon did that make her?
But if that was the case, why was her craving fading? Why did she feel so unsatisfied at thought of taking the gemstone, but equally so at the thought of putting it back? Disgusted, Smolder dropped it on top of the saddlebag and fell back into her seat with a hiss.
“Er, excuse me, can I ask what you were doing?”
The owner of the saddlebags was suddenly standing in front of her. Smolder pulled herself upright, her tail whipping tiny arcs in the air. “Relax, I put it back,” she replied, folding her arms.
The stallion looked down at the gemstone, then back at her. “Yes, but I asked what you were doing?”
Smolder felt her nails press against her scales. “I was going to steal it, but I obviously didn’t. I don’t know why, but either way it makes me a pretty lame dragon, so how about you just leave me alone, huh?”
He continued to stare at her, the veins in his neck throbbing. For one delicious moment, Smolder thought he was going to do exactly the opposite and pick a fight with her. Her muscles twitched with painful anticipation, and her body began to fill with fire.
Then his eyes softened, and Smolder’s hopes fell. With a snort, the stallion turned his back on her and sat down, moving the saddlebag to a different chair.
Smolder’s mouth hung open. Was she now getting pity from the pony she had just tried to steal from? Could her day get any worse?
The sound of a pony clearing her throat reached her ears, and Smolder looked round.
In the doorway, with eyes that were definitely not pitying, stood Princess Twilight.
“Smolder, I hope there’s a reasonable and logical explanation for what I just saw.”
Twilight had covered the space between the door and Smolder’s table with incredible speed, her nostrils flaring and her wings trembling. A blue-coated pony trotted slowly behind her, but Smolder was too busy staring at the ground to take much notice.
“It was nothing,” she replied. “Just a misunderstanding.”
“Excuse me, but it was not a misunderstanding!” The stallion at the table beside them rose to his hooves, pausing to make a hasty bow on realising who he was talking to. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, this dragon was trying to steal my gems.”
Smolder was outraged. “One gem!” she exclaimed. “Not all of them. And if I was going to steal it I would have stolen it, okay? But I didn’t. So cut the dragon crap.”
“Smolder!” Twilight turned to the stallion, the purple of her coat growing dark around her cheeks. “I’m so very sorry about this; you can be sure I’ll deal with the matter personally. Smolder here is a pupil at my School of Friendship, so if you also wanted to file a formal complaint—which I would take very seriously—then please come to reception tomorrow and collect forms APT1 through 9 and—”
“N-No need, Princess.” The stallion’s eyes had become glazed as Twilight spoke. “No harm done at the end of the day. I know you’ll do what needs to be done without any... formal complaint.”
Smolder suppressed a groan. The stallion was right; Twilight had once threatened to cancel the winter holiday in order to track down a Hearth’s Warming saboteur, though her response to this was likely to be much worse.
As Twilight and the stallion continued to talk, Smolder looked again the blue-coated pony who had followed the alicorn in, and who was now standing beside her listening intently to the conversation. Smolder’s brows furrowed. She was so strange looking, with a thick pink and crimson mane looped and braided into a towering bun, and a bunch of bracelets and necklaces hanging from her body. She was carrying a pair of saddlebags, bursting with food and spices, and a long pleated skirt hung from her flank, the tiny flowers adorning it dancing as her braided tail swished back and forth.
Smolder’s gaze moved up to the mare’s face. Her smile was so carefree and understanding. For a moment she found herself jealous—a craving growing within her to steal something she knew was impossible to steal.
As the stallion left the cafe, apparently satisfied with the apology and the likely (Smolder presumed) promise of severe punishment, Twilight turned to the other mare, a horrified look on her face.
“I can’t believe he didn’t recognise you! I’m so sorry, Mage Meadowbrook, that must have seemed very rude.”
The blue-coated pony chuckled. “Goodness, no need to apologise, ma chère. I’m a bit before his time, after all.”
Twilight’s wings twitched against her barrel. “Y-Yes, but even after I explained, he didn’t… Oh this is embarrassing. Perhaps I need to schedule a more effective programme to celebrate and remember what you and the other Pillars achieved. Maybe a festival…”
Meadowbrook placed a forehoof on Twilight’s withers. “Now, Twilight, I enjoy a fais-do-do as much as the next pony, but I don’t think any of us are gonna be happy with the stage all to ourselves.”
Smolder stared in wonder. So this was one of the legendary Pillars of Old Equestria? She didn’t look anything like Smolder had imagined, even from the pictures. And her voice was something else entirely. Rich, warm and deep—like a sleepy volcano oozing lava.
“O-Of course, it’s just—” Twilight’s words had begun to increase in both pitch and speed “—why would you not want to learn about one of the great heroines of old, not to mention the finest healer who ever—”
She paused as Meadowbrook cleared her throat, making less-than-subtle inclines of her head towards Smolder. “Ah… Right.” Closing her eyes and inhaling, Twilight turned back to Smolder.
“I’m so disappointed to have seen that,” she began, her voice regaining its earlier edge. She took a seat opposite. “Especially after what we discussed the last time you were in my office. I know you can do better than this, Smolder.”
“Maybe I can’t!” Smolder leaned forward, her frustrations becoming needles under her skin. Why couldn’t Twilight understand that?
Twilight took another breath as Meadowbrook sat down. “You can, Smolder. I know you can. You’ve already learnt so much during your short time in Ponyville, even if it doesn’t feel as though you have.”
Smolder ground her teeth. Twilight’s words were kind, but unhelpful. It wasn’t the learning that was the problem—surely she knew that.
Twilight took her silence as agreement. “And I know Dragon Lord Ember was really pleased with your last school report.”
That caught Smolder off guard. “She… was?”
Twilight's eyes darted sideways at Meadowbrook. “Well, I might have had to… refocus her attention once or twice on the correct things to be pleased about, but yes, she was. All the more reason not to let her down now, correct?”
“Well if I do then maybe should come here and learn instead!”
“Why are you being so—?” Twilight blinked and looked down, as though something had just struck her hind leg. After taking another deep breath (Smolder was starting to see them as trinkets to hoard), Twilight met Smolder’s gaze. Her features softened. “I do understand, you know.”
She took a book from her saddlebag, and slid it across the table. Smolder looked down at it.
“The Draconominon?” She couldn’t keep her confusion from chasing away the anger in her voice.
Twilight clopped her hooves together. “Great play on words, wouldn’t you say? Look, it’s a big responsibility being headmare of a school teaching concepts like friendship to such a wide and diverse student base, and reading current anthropological and sociological texts help stop me from being negligent in that respect.”
Smolder was positive Twilight was talking more to Meadowbrook than herself. Pride filled her voice as she went on and on about how the research she had been undertaking on the habits and psychology of the different species in Equestria was helping her perform her duties better. Eventually, though, and through polite redirections from Meadowbrook, Twilight got to the point.
“A-Anyway,” she concluded with a cough, “I understand why this has been so hard for you, Smolder. You’re a dragon! I mean, being greedy and selfish and… well, mean, is in your genetic makeup.”
Smolder looked between Twilight and the book. “You needed research to tell you that?”
Twilight’s expression suggested Smolder had given the wrong response. “No! I’m just saying that—” another deep breath “—I know this must be hard for you. But that’s precisely why I decided to bring forward next term’s assignment, and that’s why we’re here!” She looked around the cafe. “Though I must admit, ‘here’ is a little different to what I was expecting. I thought we were meeting at Sugarcube Corner. Your cryptic message certainly gave us the runaround.”
That was the point. Smolder waved a casual hand. “I was a little tired of sweet things,” she replied. “I am a dragon after all. Besides, I didn’t want the rest of my friends knowing about my lame holiday plans.”
She looked down so she didn’t have to see the outraged and embarrassed expression transform Twilight’s features. She knew she was being rude, but Twilight’s misguided attempts at understanding were just frustrating her.
Eventually, Meadowbrook broke the awkward silence.
“Well now, how ’bout we all get properly introduced, now that we’re done bawlin’?”
Twilight’s ears stood to attention. “Oh, of course. In all of the… excitement so far I forgot. Smolder, I’m sure you’ve realised by now that this is the legendary—”
Meadowbrook chuckled, though Smolder was sure that she saw the earth pony wince first. “Oh, Twilight, I said introduced, not immortalised. Please stop usin' that silly ol’ word.”
“Ah, right…” Looking somewhat deflated, Twilight continued. “Uh, so this is Mage Meadowbrook, the Pillar of Old Equestria you've been assigned to work with.”
Smolder raised a hand in greeting. “S’up. I’m going to be making notes about our journey while you’re fighting monsters. Or something.”
Twilight’s eye twitched, her cheeks darkening. She turned quickly to Meadowbrook. “And this bundle of snark is Smolder, one of the brightest pupils at the school, not to mention one of the most conflicted.”
Before Smolder could think of a retort, Meadowbrook was leaning forward and grasping her hands in her hooves, shaking them vigorously. “Salut, mon petit dragon, enchantée! Sorry, my days fightin’ monsters are over I’m afraid, but I’m so lookin’ forward to spendin’ time with you. Twilight has been tellin' me 'bout you.”
“Is that right?” Smolder massaged her arms. Meadowbrook didn’t look particularly strong at first glance, but that hoofshake of hers felt like it could probably pull the trees from the ground.
“She has! You know, I’ve only ever met one dragon before you, and then only briefly. I hope I’m makin’ a good impression.”
“You’re… Uh…” Meadowbrook’s unguarded welcome was making Smolder nervous. She shook her head, trying to find some safer ground. “So did she tell you about how we’re all greedy and selfish and mean?”
A low hiss escaped from between Twilight’s teeth but Meadowbrook merely smiled. “Well, she told me you’re a dragon, so I guess so. But she also told me that to watch you tryin’ to embrace a philosophy so unnatural to you was inspirational.”
“I-Inspirational?” Smolder felt the heat move from her belly to her cheeks. She looked back at Twilight, then lowered her gaze. “... Sorry.”
Meadowbrook tapped the table, the bangles on her foreleg jangling in the quiet of the cafe. “Come now, I’m sure we don’t need to waste any more time on apologies. Let’s just agree that we need to be willin’ to hear what others are sayin’, even when they aren’t aware they’re sayin’ it.”
Smolder fidgeted in her seat. This definitely wasn’t what she was expecting. Meadowbrook was a legend, despite her refusals to acknowledge the fact. Legends were supposed to be strong, unflinching, merciless. Meadowbrook didn’t seem to be like any of those things.
Twilight’s wings fluttered against her barrel. “Again, Meadowbrook is right. I’ve been guilty of that myself. I know this term hasn’t been easy for you in particular. The school has to be responsible not just for what we teach, but for how the pupils adapt that learning into their own experiences and cultures. We—I need to be better at that.”
Smolder stayed silent, her tail coiling around her leg. What was she supposed to say to that kind of statement?
Twilight pulled the Draconominon back closer, as though being in contact with it was giving her some kind of comfort or strength. “I had planned for the six of you to be paired with the Pillars as a test to see how spending time with them might help you experience how different perspectives, viewpoints and behaviours created the magic that ultimately inspired this school.”
“So why do I have to do it now?” Smolder glanced sideways, but if Meadowbrook was hurt by her words she didn’t show it. “Why can’t I wait until next term like the others?”
“We’ve been through this. Look, the last few weeks at school have been filled with reports of you fighting and arguing with other students, and now attempts to steal—”
“I put it back!”
“—from others. It’s been bad enough at school where dedicated support and guidance services operate. I worry what might happen over the holidays outside of that environment. So I spoke with Meadowbrook, and she kindly agreed to bring forward her planned arrangement with you.”
Meadowbrook waved a hoof. “Think nothin’ of it. I’ll be glad of the company.”
Smolder folded her arms, petulance taking root at the thought of others arranging her future for her. “And if I refuse?”
Twilight’s eyes became hard. “We’ve been through that before too. That letter to Ember is still waiting to be sent. I know she was in support of the idea.”
Smolder balled her hands, a terrible coldness spreading across her body. It was so unfair! Why did she have no say say in this? Why did she have so little power?
Once again, Meadowbrook brought the awkward silence to an end. Looking between Twilight and Smolder, an exaggerated sigh blew from her lips. “Goodness me, look at all these stern, long faces, and we haven’t even started talkin’ ’bout our little trip yet. Continue de sourire, eh, Smolder?”
Smolder looked up. “What?”
Meadowbrook blinked. “Ah, forgive me. I just wanted you to keep that smile on your face. Why don’t we all step outside? Fresh air and fair skies are good for the soul.”
Twilight straightened, her eyes lighting up. “Good idea. I’m sure all of this will feel much more exciting once you’ve spoken some more. Oh, and wait until you see Meadowbrook’s caravan, Smolder. You’ll have never seen so many potions, and her herb garden? Wow!”
Smolder instinctively leaned back from Twilight. “Garden? I thought this was a trip?”
“Oh it is. I’m relocatin',” Meadowbrook winked, “didn’t Twilight tell you? The main reason I was so delighted to have you with me is that I was in need of a nice strong dragon to help dig up and carry my garden.”
Smolder stared at her for a few seconds before turning to Twilight. “Is she serious?”
“Jus’ a little joke.” Meadowbrook chuckled, drumming her hooves on the table. “It was funny, right? I’m not normally as quick as that.”
Twilight’s laugh sounded a little too keen as she climbed down from her chair. “See, Smolder? Fun! Oh, I’m so envious of you.”
Smolder bit her tongue as she swung down from her own seat, and hefted her small backpack up from the floor. Like any dragon, she needed few creature comforts—just some snacking gems and the most precious of the trinkets she had collected over the last year—and it was just as well, for the journal Twilight had given her last week was enormous.
The heavy weight of it was a reminder of the expectations for her trip with Meadowbrook. A wisp of smoke escaped Smolder’s lips. Maybe the trip would be exciting. Maybe, despite Meadowbrook’s protests, they would battle fearsome creatures and save villages from monsters. But Smolder certainly didn’t want to have to write about it and how she was feeling. In fact, she didn’t want to do anything at all except hang out with her friends and forget that these problems even existed.
She followed the ponies outside and paused in the doorway, enjoying the sensation of sunlight on her scales. She realised after a moment that Meadowbrook was watching her, and the curious expression on her face was both comforting and infuriating. After a moment, the earth pony turned to Twilight.
“Maybe it would be best if I took Smolder there by myself? I mean, we’re gonna be spendin’ a lot of time together. We should get to know each other first, yes?”
Twilight stared at Meadowbrook, looking first puzzled, and then disappointed. “Oh, oh! Of course, great idea. I’ve probably got lots of, uh, principal-y things I should be getting on with anyway. I can get another look at all of those potions and textbooks some other time…”
Meadowbrook clasped Twilight’s forehooves. “Once I’m settled, my hearth will always be open to you. Je promets.”
Twilight’s face brightened. “Then I look forward to visiting.” She turned to Smolder. “I’m going to leave you both to get better acquainted now. Are you all set? Is there anything else you need?”
Smolder lifted her backpack. “Got your tome right here. That was pretty much it, right?”
Twilight opened her mouth, before silently exhaling. “Look, I know this probably isn’t how you wanted your summer break to start, but it’ll only be for a couple of weeks, and it will be fun. Oh, and just think, you’ll have already finished your assignment by the time your friends are getting theirs. That’s a plus, right?”
Despite her mood, a smile broke across Smolder’s face. She threw Twilight a lazy salute.
“You can count on me.”
Twilight nodded, returning the smile. “I’m really pleased to hear that, Smolder. I can’t wait to read about all the things you’ve learnt, and your own thoughts on how they may—or may not, no pressure—be compatible with your dragon instincts. I’m sure with Meadowbrook helping that book will be full in no time.”
Smolder slipped on the backpack, ignoring the strange sensation of it pressing against her wings. “Sure it will, I’ve got big handwriting.”
Meadowbrook chuckled as she patted Smolder on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry now, Twilight. She’ll be looked after like one of my own. Now, you take care of yourself.”
“Same to the both of you. And thank you again.” Twilight looked at Smolder and opened her mouth to say something further, before waving a hoof in farewell instead.
Meadowbrook watched her disappear into the crowd, a gentle smile on her lips. “There, now. Does that feel a little better?”
Smolder looked up in surprise. “Uh… yeah. A little.”
“Wonderful. Twilight Sparkle is a lovely pony, but my goodness, she is a worrier isn’t she?” Meadowbrook winked at Smolder. “I mean, an earth pony who hasn’t walked Equestria in a thousand years and a dragon who would rather be doing something else completely. What could go wrong?”
Smolder laughed, and before long the hesitant sound was swallowed up by Meadowbrook’s richer notes. The earth pony pointed a hoof in the opposite direction, towards the marketplace.
“Tell you what, how ‘bout I show you the caravan, then you can make up your mind if you want to join me?”
“Wait, you’re saying I don’t have to go?” Smolder scratched the spines on her head as she fell into step beside Meadowbrook. “Isn’t that just going to create more trouble?”
Meadowbrook swished her tail. “Well, there’s always gonna be consequences to your choices, Smolder. Twilight thinks this journey will be good for you, and for what it’s worth I certainly trust her judgement. But you obviously aren’t keen; it’s hard to learn things when you don’t have a mind to.”
“It’s not that.” Smolder gazed at the colourful market stalls, trying to get her thoughts into order. There was something about Meadowbrook that put her at ease, that made her feel as though she could share things and not feel judged. Not that she would share too much of course—she was a dragon at the end of the day, and there was nothing more valuable in the world than a secret.
“I guess I’m just feeling… nervous,” she offered after a further moment of thought.
Meadowbrook cocked her head. “Well now, that’s interestin’. I was told that dragons leave home quite young. What fear does a small trip like this hold?”
Smolder shrugged but said nothing. Meadowbrook glanced at her once or twice as she walked, but this time allowed the silence to blossom.
It didn’t take long for Smolder’s frustration to begin to grow. She tried to distract herself with the sights and sounds of Ponyville, of trying to work out how she actually felt about the place now that she was going to be leaving it for a time. But the more she tried to ignore the silence, the more it demanded her attention.
She looked sidelong at Meadowbrook. Why had she stopped talking? She had been really chatty since being introduced. Smolder wondered whether she was regretting her earlier offer. If so it was too bad, she had made it and Smolder intended to snap her hoof off. That’s what you got for being nice.
She shivered as that uncomfortable feeling returned. She would get what she wanted, sure, but what about Meadowbrook? The earth pony had made no secret of how much she was looking forward to the company on her journey; after being stuck wherever she had been for a thousand years, Smolder figured she was probably desperate for any company. If Smolder stayed put, she’d be denying Meadowbrook that, wouldn’t she?
She hissed, pushing the thought aside. If that was the case, what about her own happiness? Was that not as important?
Ignoring the urge to swipe one of the jars of honey from a stall, Smolder puffed a stream of smoke from her nostrils. How was this trip going to help her? This was exactly the kind of problem she had wanted to get away from this summer!
She followed Meadowbrook down one of the streets that ran from the marketplace, and after another minute of walking between rustic cottages and garishly painted houses, they turned left towards the bridge out of Ponyville. By then, the silence was becoming painful, and Smolder desperately searched for a subject to talk with Meadowbrook about.
“So… uh, is it totally weird to be here now, when everyone else you knew lived so long ago?”
“My, that’s a cloudy question for such a sunny day.” Meadowbrook tilted her head as she considered it. “I could say that holdin’ close memories and mementos keeps those feelings at bay, but I’d be bein’ disrespectful and dishonest now, wouldn’t I?”
“I guess.” Honestly, Smolder didn’t think she’d be overly bothered by such a scenario, but the conversation was distracting her from her feelings again, and she was reluctant to let it drift.
Meadowbrook looked up at the sky. “But distance can be a boon too. It can help you reflect and grow. It can help you with lots of things.”
Smolder shifted the weight of her backpack. “Sooo… is that a yes?”
Meadowbrook’s warm chuckle again tickled her ears. “Oh, there I go again. Rockhoof keeps tellin’ me I can carve puzzles into the tiniest of pebbles. It’s a little strange, yes. And sad. But also excitin’, healin’.” She turned to Smolder. “How’s that?”
Smolder smiled. “Better.”
“Oh that’s a relief. I was hopin’ I wouldn’t sound too uncool. Starswirl complained to me about not bein’ able to understand you young folk, and I guess his worries were a tad contagious. Though I’m fast learnin’ that we can be just as cryptic.”
“Yeah, but being mysterious and knowledgeable—there’s like a power in that, right? That’s a good thing.”
Meadowbrook inhaled deep as the wind carried a heady fragrance towards them. “Mm, well I don’t recall ever meetin’ a creature who enjoyed bein’ made to feel dumb.”
“Huh, I guess that’s true.” Smolder scratched her snout. What was that smell anyway? “So this place you’re going to, is it where you’re from?”
It might have been cast by one of the houses they were walking past, but Smolder was sure she saw a faint shadow drift across Meadowbrook’s face.
“No, mon petit dragon. I’m like the dancin’ willow; I’m simply puttin’ my roots down someplace new.”
“Oh, right.” Smolder found herself frowning at that. “Aren’t you going to miss your old home then?”
Meadowbrook nodded. “Of course, but that place will have always nurtured my roots, even if they ultimately settle down elsewhere.”
“You’re kind of being cryptic again.”
Meadowbrook’s eyes sparkled. “I know. But we all have our secrets, no?”
Smolder nodded. “No argument here. So what is it about this place that makes you want to live there then? Is it very different?”
“Oh, I’ve never been there before. But I hear that it’s nestled nicely in the curve of a river like a foal in his mother’s forelegs; a wonderful bayou, protected by ancient trees.”
“That… kinda sounds like your old home, right?” Smolder caught Meadowbrook’s puzzled expression. “Twilight told me about it. Swamps and marshes. Sounds cool.”
Meadowbrook looked thoughtful. “Perhaps my roots didn’t want to move too far. But I’m old, and from a different time, so forgive me my weaknesses, eh? It’ll still be fun though, I promise.”
Smolder ignored the pledge. “I guess it’ll help you feel settled too, what with it being similar.”
Meadowbrook stopped her gentle trot and looked down. “Is feelin’ settled important to you, Smolder? Why that’s the second time you’ve broached the subject.”
Gripping her tail between her hands, Smolder looked down at her feet. “We all have our secrets, right?”
Meadowbrook looped a foreleg around her shoulders, laughing. “I can see we are going to get along great, no? Ah, here we are.”
Smolder wriggled free as they rounded the side of the last house on the street. Just beyond the building, on the grassy border of Ponyville, stood the strangest wagon she had ever seen. Like an upturned barrel with an oversized, sloping roof, Meadowbrook’s caravan looked as though it had been put together by several craftsponies who had all been working to a different design. Brightly painted wood was covered by creeping vines, and strange plants and strong-smelling flowers were clustered in pots and baskets that were haphazardly secured to the sides with rope. The roof itself was layered with grass, from which neat rows of herbs flourished.
Meadowbrook trotted up to the caravan and spread her forelegs wide. “So what do you think? I asked for trendy. He seems trendy, right?”
“Er, trendy?” Smolder blinked. “He?”
Meadowbrook’s ears straightened defensively. “All caravans are ‘he’s’, Smolder, it’s a well known fact.” She placed a hoof on one of the large wheels. “I call him Ned.”
“That’s…” Smolder struggled for the right word. “Exotic?”
“Oh, exotic! Isn’t it just?” Meadowbrook beamed. “That’s exactly the effect I was hopin’ for.”
Smolder wrinkled her snout as the wind threaded itself through the herbs and flowers. “And I can see what Twilight meant about your garden.”
“It was tough bein’ a healer when I first started out. You were always havin’ to settle down near places where you could buy rarer ingredients and supplies. You couldn’t be free, not really.” Meadowbrook pointed at the caravan. “Now, I can take what I need with me, and grow the rest as I wander.”
Smolder nodded as her eyes scanned the garden and the caravan. It was big for what it was, but it still felt too small.
Meadowbrook was trotting back towards her, a small frown on her face. “Are you feelin’ homesick already? Still nervous perhaps?”
“I think it’s more…” Smolder frowned in thought as she approached the caravan. “We dragons move out pretty early, you’re right. It would be the first time in years that I’d be living with someone, and it’s quite small. Uh… No offence.”
“None taken.” Meadowbrook sat down and pressed her forehooves into the grass. “So dragons are particularly susceptible to cabin fever, eh?”
Smolder stared at all the flowers, absently testing her knowledge. Were those bilberries? And was that bell-shaped flower comfrey? She frowned as old memories began to resurface. Old memories, but happy ones.
“I guess,” she said at last, turning back to Meadowbrook. “You use all these in your medicines, right?”
“That’s right. You never know what ailment or disease you might encounter or be asked to cure. Each one is a mystery, needin’ careful study and application of the right combination of ingredients and methods.” She looked towards the open horizon, a smile on her lips. “Or maybe a challenge, a powerful opponent to be overcome.”
“Huh, cool.” Smolder looked back at the garden, before grinning. “But you think I don’t know when someone is trying to appeal to my personality?”
Meadowbrook held up her forelegs, chuckling. “I stand caught. But that doesn’t mean I was speakin’ false. I do think you’d find somethin’ in this journey that’s rewardin’.”
Smolder walked back to Meadowbrook. “Princess Twilight kept saying I’d learn a lot from you. Perhaps she’s right.”
“Well I’m hopin’ to learn a few things too. Maybe we can do it together?”
Smolder chewed her lip. It sounded like a plea, but even now she could tell Meadowbrook was putting her under no pressure to make her mind up. That in itself was reassuring, that she could actually choose.
Except, Smolder realised, she already had.
Holding out a hand, she smiled. “I guess I’m in then. Let’s go learn stuff.”
Meadowbrook grabbed her hand in her forelegs and beamed. “Oh, wonderful! Laissez les bons temps rouler, eh? Let the good times roll!”
Author's Note
Thanks for taking the time to read this far. As always, love to know what you think.
Oh, and apologies for my no doubt messy use of French. I'm fairly linguistically challenged, but I did some research. It's probably inaccurate, but hopefully not offensively/unintelligibly so. 
