Amethyst grew restless, for although asleep, she sensed the dragon was gone. It felt as if he’d left some time ago too, though she could not say when, for she hovered on the edge of sleep, drifting in and out of dreams. Regardless, the dragon’s absence meant but one thing: the spell would soon come to an end and she’d awake. But not yet.
So she found herself again lost in dreams, reveling in far off flowery meadows on long, carefree summer afternoons. She dreamt of racing up and down the grand staircase of the castle, of parties filled with singing and dancing, of her family and her friends, of all those things in that distant time before—
The dragon’s return swept everything aside. She was aware of him in the sleeping chamber, standing beside her, watching silent and still. This went on for some time. Then he tucked the velvet blanket beneath her chin and disappeared, and with his departure, the spell carried her back to its ever pleasant dreamscape. Adrift within it, unmeasurable time passed.
At last Amethyst awoke. She rolled over, groaned, and forced her eyes open. The light in the cave was dim, and her vision remained blurry, but a quick check revealed Zme, the dragon, was nowhere about. Like before, she felt compelled to stand right away, but half a century without stirring left her legs weak, her joints stiff. This, she imagined, was how it felt to be old, not old like her grandmare, but much older, old like Zme. After a short struggle and more groans, she rose to her hooves, though she remained unsteady.
From deep within the cave came the stench of burning pitch and sulphur, so that Amethyst need not guess at Zme’s location. He’d be in front of the ancient altar in the most private part of his lair, making offerings and mumbling cryptic prayers to his revered Draco. Whenever she heard him speak in the tongue of dragons, it left her unsettled deep within. Even words half-heard in that language hinted at its primordial powers. She chose not to seek Zme out.
Instead she headed for the cave’s entrance, taking short, determined steps to maintain her footing, and by the time she arrived, felt more limber, but fatigued. Across the mouth of the cave the barrier spell shimmered, sealing her in. Amethyst sat down and gazed at the world outside. The dragon’s spell left everything seen through it wobbly, like the very old panes of glass in the rooms high atop the castle, except with the spell, the wobble never sat still. She couldn’t tell the season, not that much ever changed this high in the mountains, but less snow covered the peaks then when she’d gone to sleep.
While she could see out, nopony outside could tell the cave’s entrance from the rest of the mountainside, no matter how hard they tried. So perfect the magic’s illusion, they’d pass by never knowing, and even if the most talented mage somehow discovered it, they’d never find a way through. None but Zme could manipulate the spell.
Amethyst took a breath and, with the little magic she possessed, pushed against the dragon’s powerful spell. It moved a little, but refused to give way, snapping back into the cave, appearing stronger as if to spite her. With a sigh, she shut her eyes: she’d known with certainty she’d fail, for she’d never been an avid student of magic and, out of necessity, her training had ended prematurely. Nevertheless, she supposed she must try.
Perhaps because she’d challenged his magic, or perhaps because she’d thought of him, Zme approached. Behind her Amethyst heard the thud of his heavy footfalls, turning to a soft shuffle right before ending.
The great red dragon sat behind her; Amethyst snapped around and faced him. Zme did not look angry, not in the slightest. Instead he appeared reverent, sitting with his tail curled around his feet, his hands cupped one within the other, pulled high and tight to his chest. Amethyst gazed at the old wrinkled face she’d known since the cradle, searching and wondering. At last their eyes met. What she beheld within them confessed all he sought to hide.
“Zme, I want to—”
“I’ve prepared a small meal, Princess,” said the dragon. “My apologies in advance for its simplicity, but little could I find so early in the year.”
“I don’t care about food. I want to see—for myself.”
“You know I cannot permit you to leave. My promise to your mother was to—”
“My mother—” Amethyst swallowed hard. “Mother is gone.” While she’d known from the first time the slumbering spell had ended, saying it aloud brought about a certain finality. “Zme, I need, no… I must—”
“You must remain here, Princess, safe. This I promised, this I shall do.”
“Oh! You don’t understand…” Amethyst suppressed the urge to reply in anger. Instead she held Zme with a long, cold stare while she struggled to remember. Slowly the speech she’d composed in the twilight of her last sleep came back. This time, she resolved, she’d remain reasoned despite his recalcitrance. She would succeed where twice she’d failed.
“Councillor Zme… How old am I?”
“Princess,” he began, his voice low, but devoid of menace, “no aging takes place whilst the spell holds.”
“How old, Zme?” she replied with a scowl. “Tell me.”
“A little beyond fourteen summers, just as when you arrived.”
A sly smile grew upon her face. “Yet you’ve cast your slumbering spell three times, is that not correct?” She waited for a reply, keeping a close watch on his movements. Zme’s eyes darted away for the briefest moment. “Answer me,” she demanded.
“Yes, three times, Princess.”
“By my reckoning, and by anypony possessing reason, I am one hundred and sixty-four.” Imagining this to be true left her with a queer feeling in her stomach. “One hundred and sixty-four years, Zme.”
“Regardless of your age—”
“And since… my mother is gone, and I am long past the age where protocol would require a regent—”
“Princess, I swore a dragon’s oath to protect you against—”
“—am I not the queen of Unicornia in all but name?”
Zme turned his head. Amethyst’s heart raced while awaiting a response.
“When I was young, no taller than you,” said the dragon, “your grandmother changed the nature of our compact, so that forevermore I would honor and defend Unicornia and serve those who ruled her, but—”
“Then help me, Zme. Help Unicornia, help us all. I need to see, to know what’s happened for myself, so I can figure out how… how to help. I can’t just go on sleeping forever!”
“I swore an oath to keep you safe, Amethyst, and here, now, this place is safe. The world is not.”
“You are so strong, Zme, so clever. Devise a way to do both, to keep me safe while letting me see.” She scoured his face. How tired he looked, and how it left him looking more mournful than before.
“We must do something.” Amethyst offered a soft smile along with her words. “Hiding up here, waiting, isn’t going to help.”
For a great while after, Zme looked upon Amethyst with an incalculable stare. She could not say what he thought or guess what he might say, but in the end, he appeared pleased with himself.
“Very well…” His tone was deep and somber. “Very well. If you wish to bear the weight of a sovereign, I shall take you to see. Yes, I shall, but—notwithstanding your rank, in certain matters I require you do what I ask—without question. For, young Amethyst, I long ago assumed responsibility for your well-being and will do nothing to compromise it.” He paused. “Do you agree to my terms?”
“Yes, Zme, I agree… in certain matters.”
“Good.” The old dragon returned her smile. “Then my first requirement is, before we venture forth, you must eat what I have prepared.”
—❦—
While Zme rummaged about in a chamber nearby, Amethyst ate the meal he’d prepared, an execrable collection of half-cooked yellow roots in a wooden bowl. Bitter, they turned her stomach, or perhaps something else did. Washing each mouthful down with ice-cold water failed to help. She couldn’t finish, but to avoid a potential argument, she picked at them, pretending to eat, while the dragon worked. Amethyst cleared her throat to get his attention.
“Tell me what you’ve learned, Zme.”
He was bent over, searching through a sizable collection of helmets, making huffing and puffing noises. “This question of yours,” he replied, “it is rather open ended, is it not?”
“Oh! Stop that,” said Amethyst and shot Zme a narrow-eyed stare. “You know what I mean. What of the world, as it is now?”
“Little has changed since last we awoke, Princess. Griffon clans lay claim to the old territories in the north. The entirety of the mountains, or so it appears, is theirs. Still, they war only against themselves, not others… at least not yet.” Returning with a golden helmet in hand, he held it out for Amethyst. “Try this.”
She inched it on, managing to get it three quarters of the way down before it would go no further. “Too tight.” Amethyst floated it back.
After flexing the sides a bit, Zme placed the helmet on her head and tapped it down. He then ambled back to the side chamber which contained his stash of barding. From what she’d seen of that gloomy room, Amethyst knew it held armor old and new, some fitted for use by unicorns, some not, and others in shapes and sizes indicating their mysterious owners differed greatly from any kind of pony.
“Where did you get all of this… stuff?” asked Amethyst as she levitated the helmet up and off and deposited it at her side.
Zme, sounding unamused, grunted a garbled response, then spoke loud and clear. “We shan’t require a croupiere for you. Great discomfort when one rides in a saddle. And without doubt any criniere in my possession would be unadaptable to one of your size. However, I shall endeavor to find a suitable peytralfor added protection, a matching design if I can.”
“Uhm… Whatever you feel is best,” she said. “So, what other news have you? I know you’ve been out exploring. When you are gone, I can tell. You know that, right?”
Again he grunted.
“Tell me what you’ve found in Tiffany’s kingdom?”
“Barbarism,” he growled. “Pegasi number few these days, living on scattered mountaintops in the west, engaging in foolish skirmishes with griffons, dragons too if you can imagine. For sport I suppose, for there’s nothing to gain.” Zme held up a piece of ruddy gold armor, one large enough to go around Amethyst’s barrel, yet alone her neck. With a quick shake of the head, he resumed rummaging.
“And the—”
“You’ll want to know of Princess Serena’s kind I suppose. The earth ponies thrive throughout the southern lands, on the plains, all the way to the sea. Their numbers grow.”
Amethyst sprung up, haphazardly discarding the half-empty bowl. “We should go to them then, to help them.”
“No,” droned Zme while shaking his head. Having found the piece he’d sought, he came back, looking uneasy and sounding the same. “Earth ponies have always been a superstitious lot, and I fear their reasoning has only grown worse with time.” Towering over Amethyst, he brushed back her mane and placed a dented piece of silver armor around her neck. He snugged it tight. “I’ve observed them from afar and found them engaging in practices—” He shook his head, but a smile crept out as he arranged her aqua locks so they hung to the right. “No, we shan’t visit them. A unicorn, uninvited, arriving with dragon in tow? Saying we’d be unwelcome understates the matter.”
“Oh,” she said as he replaced the helmet. “Then, about my—”
“You’ll require a cloak,” he stated, sounding urgent, “for this morning we fly at great heights so as to avoid detection. You will find it rather cold there. I shall have to see what remains serviceable after all these years.” And with a nod of the head, Zme took his leave.
—❦—
Together they stood at the cave’s entrance with the barrier spell wavering across it. Zme slung a heavy riding saddle upon his back; Amethyst held it in place with one of the simple spells she knew while he secured one strap around his great middle and another about his neck. The dragon shifted his shoulders back and forth, and satisfied with the fit, he crouched down on all fours so Amethyst might mount. She climbed aboard and tucked herself against the cantle and looped a foreleg tight around the pommel.
So many years had passed, yet it felt as if she’d climbed onto Zme’s back yesterday, not mid morning here in the cave, but at dusk in the courtyard of the castle in far off Unicornia. Soon, she’d be there…
“Situated, Princess?” asked Zme.
Amethyst pulled the hood of her cloak over her helmeted head. “I am,” she replied with a perceptible quaver.
Zme rose and walked through the barrier as if it didn’t exist, and once crossed, he stopped and made an arcane gesture, cutting the air in front of him thrice. The protective spell sent an iridescent flash rippling across his scales, head to tail and then back again. Then, without a word of warning, he broke into a trot and hurled himself off the mountainside.
Amethyst’s already unsettled stomach sank. But the sudden weightlessness disappeared, and she felt quite heavy, for Zme’s wings were open, and they soared towards the clouds. At first she kept her eyes closed and her head tucked down, pressed against the pommel. After all, it was only her second dragon flight, and as with the first, her mount made no effort to accommodate his rider. When she dared to look, Amethyst saw the brown and tan layers of the mountains far beneath them and the vast forests covering the foothills ahead. Both seemed vaguely familiar and yet equally not.
Zme’s wingbeats left no doubt he made good time. However, they flew so far above the ground, Amethyst could not help but think their progress slow as she watched the distant terrain slide past. The mountains soon fell behind, replaced by forests in a hundred hues of green. Except for rare glimpses of gray-brown rivers through the branches, the trees remained unbroken until they headed southward and the hidden waters widened. Along the way Amethyst spied no roads. She saw no cities, no villages, nor habitations of any sort.
From then on, the dragon flew at even greater heights, and cold air rushed about her, penetrating the ancient cloak she wore. Amethyst shivered and pulled it tighter. The sunshine, while brilliant, provided no warmth.
They arrived above their destination soon after midday, and Zme descended in an ever widening spiral. Amethyst looked to their right, struggling to find landmarks. At first it appeared he’d taken them nowhere, just some random spot in these new, endless forests, but in a short while she saw the bright blue of a river, like the one which ran beside the castle. With a little difficulty, she located where it joined the great river which flowed southward to Princess Serena’s castle in the faraway lands of the earth ponies.
Zme turned out of his spiral and glided straight and slow. Amethyst looked backwards over his left wing in an attempt to trace the river to the castle. She couldn’t.
Rainbow Castle should have stood upstream of the waterfall. She could see the river’s crystal waters cascading down, as they had for ages, but the town adjacent the falls was missing. Unbroken treetops hid the whole area. But even without the town for reference, she should have been able to make out the road climbing the rise and follow it to the castle.
Eventually, she did. What remained of that road, a beautiful wide road which once led to the greatest castle in the land of ponies, dead-ended in a heap of rubble, nothing but piles of broken stone blackened by fire. Unicornia’s castle, with its elegant towers flying parti-colored streamers was gone. Its gaily painted walls with heart-shaped windows, its enormous wooden drawbridge where Amethyst and the other princesses had once paraded—was gone. Everything gone.
Tears blurred her sight, a blessing, for Amethyst could look on her home’s remains no more. She pressed her face against the dragon’s neck and wept.
—❦—
Zme landed on a ledge and walked towards what looked like a wall of solid rock. Prompted by his approach, the spell revealed the cave’s entrance, and with Amethyst on his back, he passed through the barrier. To the world, they disappeared.
As Amethyst dismounted, Zme said, “I am sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I thought it best you not see.”
“Doesn’t matter,” mumbled Amethyst while shuffling towards the far wall. Once there, she slouched against the cold stone. She removed her helmet and clutched it to her middle. “Doesn’t matter.” With vacant eyes she stared at the distorted images of the outside world.
The dragon went about his business with grave efficiency, undoing the ties and removing the saddle. After stowing it away, he sat.
He watched, but Amethyst didn’t care about him or anything else. Unicornia, her home, was gone. She’d needed something of it to exist, even if nopony she knew remained. She needed a starting place, but now, for certain, she had no home, nopony but herself. Amethyst slumped down.
“I’m all that’s left.”
“No,” declared Zme, and she looked up in surprise.
“Princess, does any creature know we are secreted here? I believe—no, it is stronger than belief…” Zme smiled as he looked upon Amethyst. “Your fellow unicorns live, but like us, remain hidden away. I’ve searched, but too clever are they, even for my magic. They wait for their time again, as we must wait, until this plague, this pestilence of hatred and greed, exhausts itself. Then… then will we seek out and help those we can.”
Amethyst looked at the dragon and blinked several times, quite slow, before pulling her lips taut. “Councillor Zme,” she began, stressing each syllable. “Into your hands I place my safety. In your guidance, I place my trust.”
Zme sat motionless, silent.
“You were right to keep me here,” she concluded softly. “I did not need to see.”
“No, Princess,” replied the dragon. “It was I who wronged you, for I allowed a promise made long ago to keep me from my true duty. Unicornia is your birthright and responsibility—our responsibility. You needed to see the difficulties we face, to understand.”
“I have seen, Zme, but never will I understand.”
The dragon closed his eyes and nodded.
Amethyst turned from him and looked outside at the fading daylight. “And now”—she paused to wipe her nose—“I am ready to sleep once more.” She stood up, and the helmet slipped from her grasp and landed on the ground with a hollow clunk. With weary steps she made her way into the cave, towards the sleeping chamber. Close behind, Zme followed.
In the chamber, he bade her sit before a dull bronze mirror. He removed her cloak, unfastened her remaining armor, and combed out her wind-tangled mane. His tasks complete, Zme reached up into a hidden alcove and retrieved a box decorated with elaborate inlays. It looked small in his palm as he held it for Amethyst to see.
She looked to him with expressionless eyes.
“From the Queen.”
With a spell, Amethyst unlocked the box and inside found a torc of gold set with her birthstone. Drained of energy, she had Zme place it about her neck. Then, without a word, Amethyst went to her sleeping pallet and lay down. She closed her eyes, but just as the dragon’s arm descended, they were open again. Amethyst reached out and grabbed him.
“Don’t leave, Zme,” she pleaded. “Stay with me until I wake. Promise me that, will you?”
“I shall remain, Princess,” he said and smiled. “This I promise.”
Amethyst did not return his smile. She closed her eyes again and felt the dragon’s hand resting upon her head. She heard his ancient words:
ᛗᚨᛖ ᚲᚤᛋᚷᚢ ᚨᚢᚱ ᚤᚾ ᛚᛚᛖᚾᚹᛁ’ᚲᚺ ᛚᛚᚤᚷᚨᛁᛞ…
Zme’s voice grew hollow as Amethyst fell into slumber. In no time, his magic brought forth a dream.
She came upon Tiffany, as white as any cloud, dancing in a perfect sky, her brash voice calling her to play. In the distance, by the edge of the forest, she spied Serena resting, and galloped off to join her. How wonderful to see her mischievous grin again. Soon, she was certain, all three would be drawn into some light-hearted adventure.
But an inward disturbance moved Amethyst away from the pleasantries of her past. Part of her knew Tiffany and Serena and all the other princesses had long ago gone to fates unknown, everypony she knew dust—as was Rainbow Castle itself. Remembering a life to which she could never return brought no joy. She desired to forget what had been. All disappeared, and she slept in a dreamless grey expanse, devoid of thought.
Over time, the gray dimmed until it was blacker than a starless night. Black then changed to blue, thin and hazy at the start, then pure and clear. Amethyst found herself floating above clouds, as if she again rode upon the dragon’s back. But there was no wind, nor was she cold. Beneath her the clouds parted, allowing sunshine to spill down upon a vast and beautiful world.
She saw winding roads cutting through a countryside filled with a patchwork of familiar-looking farms, quaint villages and towns rising beside them. Along these roads she saw ponies of all types heading in the direction of a distant city. She followed.
The ponies headed for a most resplendent city built upon a high mountain, with towers taller and buildings more elegant than anything she’d ever beheld. So brilliant were its colors, they hurt her eyes. She drew closer to this magnificent city and discovered the air above filled with creatures, not just birds and pegasus ponies, but griffons and dragons and others for which she had no name. They glided, some in play, others with purpose, harmonious with one another. Beneath them, filling the city’s wide streets and crowding an enormous plaza filled with statues and fountains, it was the same. Ponies from all the tribes and creatures from all across the land, living together, at peace. A special magic radiated from them: she felt it.
This dream, Amethyst was certain, did not come from the dragon’s spell, for it differed from those she’d experienced prior. This was no dream of what had been, but a glimpse of what could be. So beautiful… If only every creature could see it, feel its magic, then they’d realize—
The dream quaked. It began to disappear, receding ever faster although she fought to sustain it. This dream could not die, not here, not now! And struggling to save it, Amethyst cried aloud in her sleep. Within an instant, she felt a presence.
Zme! she cried, reaching out for him. Help me.
I am here, my princess. The dragon’s thoughts emanated from nowhere.
Do you see? We must not let it die.
Yes… I see, thought old Zme, although he paused for further contemplation. I see, Amethyst, and I understand what you wish to do. Allow me to help you… And in the land of dreams, the dragon cast a most powerful spell.
The primeval magic almost overwhelmed her. But Amethyst stood strong as it took hold, and when it had, she discovered she no longer dwelt within the perfect dream. She floated in the blackness of the nighttime sky surrounded by what she first took to be innumerable stars. With the magic she now possessed, she realized their true nature, and in knowing, she looked about for her own dream. It lay below her, unwavering in its clarity, surrounded by a fiery red glow.
Zme’s thoughts came to her: Worry no longer, for your dream is safe, and I will keep it so as long as you require. Go. Do as you must.
Amethyst scanned the flickering lights about her. Where was she to start when they went on forever and ever? Searching for something to guide her, from far away in the darkness came a longing, one matching hers. And not knowing exactly where it lay, she set off to find it.
—❦—
And so, the legend tells us, with the help of a dragon’s magic, the lost princess of Unicornia goes about her search every night, seeking those with whom she might share her dream. When she finds a dreamer, when she chances upon one well disposed, she shares with them her dream of unity, of harmony, of a better world. Perhaps one day she will visit you.
Many believe the little unicorn and her dragon slumber in their hidden cave unto this very day, keeping a dream alive, sharing it, and that they will continue in their task until at last the dream is realized. For it is only then that they may awake.
To make the dream real, that task is ours.
When all creatures of this world share the dream of the ever-sleeping princess, and they work together to bring about the world she imagined, she will at last be freed from slumber. She will arise and once more climb upon the dragon’s back, and together they will fly out of the mountains. When all live as one, in peace, she will return to us. And on that day, we will greet her with smiles.
————————————that’s it——the story’s over————thanks for listening————
❈—❈—❈
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Author's Note
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❖ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
To those still young enough to dream
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❖ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The inspiration for this story is contained within the dragon’s spell.
As always, thanks for reading.
