Treasure
by
paperhearts
"How come we're walking so far tonight?" Ocellus' voice fought in vain against the tremble of a giggle. "If I'm not back by midnight I'll turn into a pumpkin you know. Literally. You'll have to carry me home."
"It's no further than usual. You sound drunk or something." Smolder kept her eyes ahead. Hazy lines of crimson and ochre stretched across the sky, penetrated only by the silhouette of the crest of the hill they were traversing. "Been skipping on your sleep again?"
"Just revising." There was the hint of a challenge in Ocellus' voice, buried as it was beneath the changeling's quiet demeanour. "Besides, if I'm missing out on my sleep there's only one dragon to blame."
Smolder laughed, but it sounded harsh to her ears as it echoed between the trees and rocks. "I would say that no-one asked you to come, but that's obviously a load of crap."
Ocellus giggled again. "Obviously."
They travelled in silence for a few minutes, forcing themselves up and over fallen trees and jagged half-peaks. The night hung low around them, a predator that was growing in strength and waiting for the right moment to strike. Smolder grunted as she skidded on some loose scree, and the backpack she was carrying pressed against her wings as she spun. Almost instantly Ocellus was at her side, her forelegs wrapping under Smolder's arms in an attempt to take her weight.
"Are you okay?" Her compound eyes held a thousand reflections of the rising moon as she looked Smolder up and down. Smolder hesitated a moment before swatting her hooves away.
"Fine, thanks. Just this hill trying to throw down. This was a lame idea, by the way."
Ocellus laughed, her pink wings twitching and trembling in the warm, still air. "Duly noted."
Smolder bobbed her head and returned her attention to the ascent. It would have been quicker to fly there, but she needed to save her wings from having too much of a workout before the main event. Her scales were starting to feel tight and dry, but she tried to ignore the discomfort. This time, she told herself, this time, I'll succeed.
"Thanks, by the way," she said, when the silence had clung to them too long for her comfort, "for, you know, coming with me. Again."
Ocellus flashed a smile that was painful in its earnestness. "No problem. What are friends for?"
Smolder grunted at that, and turned her gaze to the sky. The colours were still pressed together, obscuring from her the void that she knew was waiting beyond. It felt hostile, incomprehensible. Raising an arm, Smolder watched as her orange scales were stained first by the gloam and then by the moonlight.
"It must be scary up there," Ocellus said.
"A little." Smolder shrugged, though it didn't stop her heart from beating faster. "A lot, I guess. But it's worth it, you know?"
Ocellus cocked her head, a jerky set of movements that were almost too fast for Smolder to process. "Hey, isn't this the part where you're supposed to say to me 'But if you tell anyone I'll char your ass'? Gallus was right, you have softened over the years."
"Gallus would know all about getting soft." Smolder glanced over her shoulder. "And you've become a real comedian, huh?"
Ocellus' delicate laugh seemed to infuse the twilight around them. "I've been taking notes."
Smolder chuckled. "You ass."
They reached the peak of the hill a few minutes later and slumped to the ground, gulping down air and allowing weary sounds to escape their mouths. The land rolled down and away from them, a badly fitting jigsaw puzzle of colours and textures, the lamplights of Ponyville in the distance turning the town into a hazy crowd of fireflies. Smolder hugged her knees and gazed down, a smile growing on her lips. It always satisfied some primal need, being this high above everything. It wasn't so much about the physical distance, neat though it was, but more the sense of dominance she felt looking down on the world.
Even after all the years spent studying at the School of Friendship, Smolder knew she would never excel in the art of personal reflection. But she couldn't deny that she had changed, and for the most part that change had been for the better. Which is why she had to indulge herself, to embrace her heritage, in moments like this. You can take the dragon out of the Dragon Lands, but you can't take the Dragon Lands out of the dragon, her brother had told her when she had left for Equestria. The years since had exposed Smolder to enough to know that the subtle plea hidden in his words had been justified. Her shoulders weren't designed to carry the burden of duty, but they were designed even less so for guilt.
"You're being reflective again."
Smolder rolled her eyes and pressed her feet into the rocky ground. Ocellus had stretched out, and was busying herself with pulling a battered tome from her saddlebag.
"You're revising. Again."
"Am not!" Ocellus tapped the cover and flashed a toothy smile. "This is Meadowbank Magic's Compendium of Plants, August Edition." Her eyes grew wide at Smolder's expression. "It's totally not for revision! It's for pleasure!"
Smolder slid out of the embrace of her backpack and sighed, stretching her wings with gentle flaps. "I'm not convinced there's a difference when you're concerned."
Ocellus stuck out her tongue and rolled onto her back, her forelegs holding the book in the air. Smolder watched her read for a few minutes, a fond smile on her lips, before standing and continuing her warm-up. She didn't want to think about it too much—too much thinking lead to doubt. It was much better focusing on something mechanical. She lunged and flapped, stretched and hovered, losing herself in the repetition. Then she lifted her backpack and pulled out her coat.
"Okay, I'm ready," she said, more to herself than to Ocellus. Nevertheless, the changeling looked across.
"You took a lot longer tonight. Everything okay?"
"Yeah." Smolder slipped into her coat and gently buttoned up the flaps around her wings. Almost instantly the fabric began to create a reservoir for her body heat. "Just enjoying the now. Anticipation is always the best bit, you know?"
"Just like before a test," the changeling replied brightly. After a moment she giggled. "I'm joking, Smolder. Comedian, remember?"
"Maybe I was a little early on the praise there," Smolder replied with a smile.
"So mean!" After a moment Ocellus' gaze softened. "Look, are you sure you don't want to leave it for tonight? The view from here is already incredible. Isn't this enough?"
Smolder held her gaze before looking to the sky above. Her hands balled into fists. "Not even close."
"Well... Good luck then," replied Ocellus, her voice warm and, Smolder was convinced, encouraging. "Go get your treasure. I'll be watching."
"I know you will." Smolder braced her legs before pausing and looking back at the changeling. "Thank you."
She pushed off, not waiting for a reply, desperation fuelling the wingbeats that carried her up and away from Ocellus, the hill and the world below. Smolder knew she wasn't the fastest of fliers, but what she lacked in speed she made up for in endurance. She had soon settled into a steady rhythm, the muscles in her back and shoulders tightening and relaxing as her wings pushed her through the air, her scales lifting to trap the currents and aid her ascent. The sky was still against her though, packed with bands the colour of earth and fire that gave nothing away as to her progress. Smolder closed her eyes against the sight and pushed on.
She flew for minutes that felt like hours, alone in the darkness and with only her senses to guide her. As she felt the first drops of moisture on her face, Smolder began to relax and let her mind wander. She thought about the birds she used to see at this height, before her ascents had become blind. Were they always looking down at the world in awe or contempt? Or was the sight so familiar to them that they didn't even give it a second thought? Smolder had always found herself hoping it was the latter. It wasn't a sight she enjoyed the thought of sharing. She had invited Ocellus once but the changeling had declined, either too afraid or too disinterested to join her. Even now it seemed a shame, but Smolder had come to grudgingly accept that it would have defeated the purpose in the first place had Ocellus agreed.
A dull burning sensation began to blossom across her muscles, and Smolder set her jaw. Beads of moisture were now clinging to her face, but she refused to open her eyes. Her nerves began to grow and her lungs felt as though they were filling with the splinters of gems. She tried to brush the creeping doubts aside and focus on the task in hand. Yes it was hard, and yes it hurt like hell, but Smolder knew she had pushed through the pain countless times before, and she knew she could do it again—tonight, tomorrow night and however many more nights it took.
Her body continued to mark her progress, weathering the tumultuous currents. The scales on her face cooled as she soared through and then above the clouds, the plummeting temperature condensing the moisture into ice crystals. Not for the first time she hummed appreciation for the moderate protection offered by her coat, the material for which Yona had brought back for her from a trip to Yakyakistan. Before then, Smolder had been forced to abandon her attempts here, where the skies tried to turn her already cold blood into ice and her lungs into crystal weights. Even with it, it felt like her body was being slowly poisoned.
When the pain finally became too great Smolder cried out into the void, her wordless declaration lost in flame and crystals. Just a little further, she ordered herself. Just a little bit more. Her wings felt sluggish, alien, and her mind languid. Her insides were alight, her scales freezing. She gulped down the thinning air, flexing her fingers and toes. Vague images and echoes pushed themselves to the surface, and from there into oblivion; a year, three years, of school were condensed into a few fleeting seconds. Desperation, hope, determination. Smolder shuddered, her senses bleeding into one.
It's not getting any colder.
The thought sliced through everything with such clear precision that Smolder was initially struck dumb. It wasn't getting colder, and the currents had ceased their punches. She had made it! She had reached the edge of the—what had Headmare Glimmer called it? The troposphere?
Angling her wings Smolder pushed back, slowing her ascent almost instantly. The sudden change in motion thawed her, body and mind, and she spun round, furious beats of her wings holding her altitude steady. Smolder inclined her head, gulping down as much oxygen as the sky would allow.
And then she opened her eyes.
Smolder was no stranger to treasure. She had hoarded her first pile of jewels when she was five, under the expert guidance of her brother. She was stealing from other dragons by the following year, including her brother, and from the trading caravans that sometimes passed through the Dragon Lands not even half a year after that. Even when she had moved to Ponyville, Smolder couldn't, wouldn't kill that particular urge. A necklace from a market stall here, a student's textbook there, most days Smolder would ensure that her hoard beneath the floorboards of her dorm room had grown by at least one item.
But in the end it was all material, and so it just couldn't compare.
The world curved out before her, vast and beautiful.
Smolder stared at it, and then she laughed.
She had made the trip twenty, maybe even thirty, times, but every time she opened her eyes it felt like the first. It began in her gut and penetrated every organ as it consumed her body from horns to tail. Smolder had to remind herself to breathe as she attempted to comprehend the tableau below, which called out to her even as it pushed her away. The sunset was suspended in its escape attempt, a fiery arc keeping the darkness at bay. Beneath it, mountains and plains and forests and oceans stretched out, a living map, and for a moment Smolder indulged herself once more.
But in the end, she knew it wasn't something she could hope to hold, to possess, and that was fine. Anyway, her body ached, and her mind more so. Pinning back her wings, Smolder angled herself and descended, dreaming that she was a shooting star.
Ocellus was exactly where Smolder had left her; the changeling was lying on her back amongst the wild grass, the book she had been earlier reading now a makeshift pillow. As Smolder approached the crest of the hill, she opened her mouth and forced out plumes of fire, being careful to not let her coat get singed. Ocellus leapt up, though whether from fright or excitement it was impossible to tell, and stared wide-eyed as Smolder slowed to land, trailing sparks and embers. It was an expression that seemed intent on holding too many emotions and feelings for one face, and Smolder hung in the air as she hunted and separated them.
Her chest hurt. Her lungs hurt. The sight she had just witnessed had nothing on this, and in that moment Smolder vowed to never again speak about enjoying the feeling of anticipation.
"I didn't know I was getting a light show too," Ocellus laughed, clapping her hooves together.
Shaking herself out of her stupor, Smolder performed a mock bow. "What are friends for, right?"
"So did you have fun? Did you find your treasure?"
Smolder studied the changeling for a moment longer, feeling her heart plummet. It wasn't there. She swallowed, landing amongst the moon-kissed grass. The first time she had flown to the edge of the world it had almost been there. But every time since it had seemed to drift further and further away.
She plastered on what felt like the lamest smile and shook her head. "Nah, out of reach again, you know?"
Ocellus frowned and cocked her head. "Are you okay, Smolder? Did something happen?"
Smolder stared at Ocellus, at the way the moonlight pooled and shimmered across her eyes, at the way her mouth curved with a kindness that was both alien and sublime. She could sense her timidity and her confidence bubbling beneath her skin. She could feel her strengths and doubts, shaped over the years they had shared.
Smolder opened her mouth, the blood pounding in her ears, her limbs feeling as numb as they had in the freezing sky above.
When Gallus had flown non-stop to Griffonstone as part of the last school fundraising event, it had been in Ocellus' expression then. When he had got back from scaling Yak Khan Mountain with Yona too.
It had almost been there for her as well. Almost. What was she doing wrong?
Smolder inhaled deep. It was warmer on the ground, but otherwise it didn't feel as though she had come back down. Her body still hurt, and the sight before her was still something she could not hold in her hands.
"I'm fine," she said, and smiled at Ocellus until she looked away.
Author's Note
My heartiest and most sincere thanks to you for taking the time to read this short story. I hope you enjoyed it, though if you didn't that's fine too.
This is obviously set a few years on from what is now Season 9, so I played a little fast and loose with a couple of things, namely Twilight succeeding Celestia and Starlight succeeding Twilight in a more formal arrangement than before. Nothing major, and I get a sense that's broadly the direction the show is taking things anyway (no confirmatory/refuting spoilers please!)
Anyway, thanks again. Do please leave a comment if you feel like sharing your thoughts.
