Ocellus dug her face deep into Yona’s bed, which was the top bunk, and she took a deep inhale of the sheets, which still smelled heavily of yak; a heavy scent of black coffee and petrichor. She felt her broken heart throb in pain yet again.
“I miss them, guys,” came Smolder’s voice from below.
“I think Ozzie does, too,” said Gallus.
“What kind of secret Ornithian chamber needs to be opened specifically by an earth pony and a yak who are in love?!” Silverstream cried.
Ocellus lifted her head and peered down from the bed to where her three friends sat on the floor, looking up at her in worry. “It’s actually a very old Ornithian tradition to kidnap a pony and a yak and through a series of hijinks, cause them to fall in love and then years later, convince them to use their combined love magic to lock vaults made by the royal family to store dangerous artifacts in. It fell out of fashion because it was...it was a lot of work. But now that ponies and yaks are all on speaking terms they need all the pony/yak couples that they can get so Twilight can get her archaeological wingboner going for the next decade. You guys would know if you did next semester’s reading for Magic 404 like you promised me you would.”
Smolder winced. “Yowza. I don’t know whether to feel guilty or turned on by your angry professor voice.”
“Por que no los dos?” asked Silverstream.
“Is there going to be a problem with that?” Gallus asked. He gestured to the four of them. “Since, uh, you know…”
“We’re in a six-creature relationship?” asked Ocellus. “There shouldn’t be. Love flows in many ways. The vault that they need Sandbar and Yona to open will simply tap into the stream of Love between them and ignore the other streams of Love that are directed towards us. Besides, Yona and Sandbar are especially close. Like with you and Silverstream or me and Smolder.”
“I see,” said Gallus.
“What do we do without them?” Silverstream groaned. “I have no Sandbar to do jigsaw puzzles with.”
“No Yona to commit petty theft with,” Smolder added.
“No Sandbar to intentionally get cut by sharp rocks while going bungee jumping with so he can bandage me up on the bathroom floor while gently chastising me to not to be so reckless all the time,” Gallus said, hanging his head.
Ocellus sighed.
And then she remembered.
“We still have each other,” she said, “and we don’t need Yona to commit petty theft.”
Smolder whined. “But who’s going to T-Bone the royal guards?”
At once they all paused. They waited for the cringing noises of the herbivores in the room, disgusted by the meat-eaters’ names for cuts of meat.
The cringe never came.
“Okay, we should definitely eat some meat while Yona and Sandbar are gone,” Gallus said.
“Agreed,” the other three said in unison.
Silverstream then said, “We should get married!”
“No,” said Gallus and Smolder. Ocellus was too busy blushing to say anything.
“Why not?” Silverstream asked.
“It’s only the four of us right now,” said Smolder.
“I mean, like, when the other two come back, obviously,” said Silverstream.
“Still no,” Gallus said.
Silverstream’s beak fell open, and she grew incredulous, like he had just told her that aliens weren’t real. “Why!”
“We don’t have any money,” Gallus said.
“You don’t have any money,” Ocellus corrected, finally over her blushing fit. “Yona and Silverstream have a lot of money.”
“Hey! I have bits, too!” said Smolder.
“None you’d be willing to share,” said Ocellus.
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fair.”
Gallus waved them off with a claw. “Okay, fine, we could afford it if we wanted to. But who cares? We’re all twenty! We have all the time in the world to get married. We should put Silverstream and Yona’s generational wealth to something that would actually benefit us! Like a sweet castle with an outdoor pool and a doctorate for Ocellus!”
“Aww!” Ocellus put a hoof on her chest.
“Don’t fall for his charms, babe,” Smolder stage-whispered to her. “He just wants to call you doctor during—”
“Wait, we can’t get married!” Silverstream cried.
Gallus gestured to her with a wing. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“We don’t have the right rings,” said Silverstream.
“Okay. Nevermind,” said Gallus. “What do you mean, the right rings?”
“To get married with,” said Silverstream.
“I got that,” Gallus said, “but what’s wrong with...with any other ring that we could get?”
“They have to be magically entwined, obviously,” Silverstream said. “How else are the Elements of Harmony going to be passed to us?”
“In like, the necklaces that they’re already in?” Gallus shrugged.
“I’m glad we all agree there’s zero question that they’re going to us next,” Smolder said.
“Oh, we’re murdering anyone who poses a threat,” said Gallus.
“I think that statement may have just disowned us from the Elements,” Ocellus said
“Anyway!” Silverstream cut in. “We need like, magically entwined rings. Six of them. Forged together. Enchanted together. Together forever. Like we’re going to be. And I don’t think that there’s anything like that that we know about. So no marriage for now.”
Smolder scratched the back of her neck. “Actually...maybe...I know a spot?”
“You’re kidding,” Gallus said.
“I was holding off on talking about him until it was time to propose,” said Smolder. “He’s an old fart who lives in a cave on the borders of the Dragonlands. His place is kinda camouflaged to non-dragons so the professors don’t really know about it and neither do your species’ governments.”
“Well, I know what we’re doing today,” Ocellus said.
Smolder looked for a moment like she wanted to argue, but then she shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay. We can surprise the other two when they get back.”
“Really?!” Silverstream said. She shot into the air and screeched an eagle’s cry, doing a couple of celebratory backflips in the process.
“Good form, Streams. We’ll need to work on your takeoff after we nab those rings, though,” Gallus said, patting her gently on the head. He looked to Ocellus, then to Smolder, then to the door, and he thrusted a fist into the air. “Now let’s go to the hardware store!”
Smolder looked back and forth between the two spades in front of her. Did she want a steel one, or a mithril one? She took a cursory glance to Silverstream, who was nearby and tangled up in rope. It was understood that Streams was paying for everything, but just how much, Smolder didn’t exactly know. And she wouldn’t have cared normally but this was like their preliminary honeymoon—their pre-proposal romantic date—and it wouldn’t be a good look to have her future wife close her wallet on her just because she wanted a fancier spade.
Being almost married was hard.
“I like the mithril one,” came Ocellus’s voice.
Smolder jumped, startled by the changeling’s sudden appearance. “Ocellus! What did we say about the sneaks?”
“It’s going to get me burned one day?” Ocellus said. She stuck her tongue out. “Well, it hasn’t yet.”
Smolder glared for a moment, but she could never hold a glare at Ocellus for too long. They always inevitably turned into smiles.
“So which one do you like better?” Ocellus asked, gesturing to the spades.
“Mithril,” said Smolder.
“Let’s get the mithril one, then.”
“But what if it’s too much and Silverstream chews me out?” Smolder asked.
Ocellus raised an eyebrow. “It’s only two bits more expensive than the steel one, sweetie.”
Smolder whined. “Yeah.”
Ocellus’s expression grew worried. She put a hoof on Smolder’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” said Smolder. She wasn’t totally lying. She was physically okay. There was just something bothering her, and she couldn’t quite figure out what. She put her claw on top of Ocellus’s hoof and she rubbed it, giving it a little kiss. “I dunno. I just feel kinda weird, I guess.”
They took the mithril spade and made their way across the store, past shovels and drills and hammers and blank planks of wood, over to the knife section, where Gallus stood looking down at a glass case with several blades on display.
Smolder sidled up to the griffon on his left side, and Ocellus took his right. They exchanged looks before they both leaned in and gave him a kiss on both his cheeks.
Gallus’s ear flicked, but he didn’t react otherwise. Smolder knew his face: he was lost in thought. Probably paralyzed by the indecision caused by the multitudinous knives on display in front of him.
There were ritual daggers, ornate and crude, and standard tactical knives, and those Neighponese daggers that looked like small katanas—Smolder wasn’t a weapons person. She left that nerdy stuff to her brother.
“You know what’s surprising?” she asked, hoping to snap Gallus out of his thinking state, but only getting Ocellus’s attention.
“What?” Ocellus asked.
“That none of us already have a knife,” said Smolder.
Ocellus looked confused. “But they’re contraband.”
“And?” Smolder asked. “That hasn’t stopped us before. In our dorm alone we have Sandbar’s stash, Silverstream’s collection of sexy jigsaw puzzles, your forbidden changeling magic texts…”
“Touché,” Ocellus said.
“Wait, when did you guys get here?” Gallus asked. He looked to Smolder, then to Ocellus. “What?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Smolder, wrapping a wing around his shoulders. “Choose a dragon slayer yet?”
“The knife’s not for killing the guy,” said Ocellus.
“Maybe not for you,” said Smolder. “But I want each and every opportunity for style points in case we need to commit murder.”
All at once, they turned their attention to the teenage stallion worker who had been standing behind the glass counter. He began to sweat. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Good,” Smolder said.
The three of them went back to looking at the knives.
“What’s the holdup, Gallus?” asked Ocellus. “All we need is something sharp to cut rope and other things with.”
“Like dragon skulls,” Smolder added.
Gallus clicked his tongue. “You know, I don’t know. It’s just hard deciding.”
Ocellus pointed to a tactical knife that had Princess Luna’s cutie mark on it. It was made of a silver metal that looked almost like it was glimmering on its own. “I like that one.”
“We’ll do that one, then,” said Gallus. He looked to the hardware store worker, who nodded and left to go fetch one from the back of the store.
“Isn’t it weird that we’re buying weapons at a hardware store?” asked Smolder.
“They’re just knives,” said Gallus.
“Knives are weapons.”
“I guess,” said Gallus.
“If we do have to kill the dragon,” said Ocellus. “Are we going to get in trouble?”
Smolder, in tandem with Gallus, looked at the changeling incredulously.
Ocellus stammered. “W-What I mean is, are there laws against murder in the Dragonlands? Are we going to get in trouble with the Equestrian law system because we have this weird half-citizenship? How many years do you get locked up for if you kill a dragon that no one wanted around?”
“I’m sure someone likes this guy,” said Smolder.
“Why wouldn’t it be the standard twenty-five years to life?” asked Gallus.
“That’s how long it takes to ruin a normal life,” said Ocellus. “But this dragon is probably thousands of years old. Would they take that into account? Would we be imprisoned for the rest of time? Or twice as long as the dragon lived?”
Smolder hummed. “You know, following Dragonlands law, we’d probably get off scot free.”
“Really?” asked Ocellus.
“Territorial disputes happen all the time. Less often now, since we’re trying to be a little more pony-like and everything,” she said, “but it’s still a thing.”
“Why are we acting like it’d be no problem to murder a dragon?” Gallus asked.
“Because it wouldn’t be if it was about to hurt one of you,” said Ocellus.
Gallus scratched his neck. “You know, that actually makes a lot of sense.”
“How old is this dragon anyway?” Ocellus asked, eyeing Smolder.
“Pretty old,” said Smolder. “Like, my dad’s age.”
Gallus looked at her. “How old is that?”
“Like, nine thousand.”
Gallus seemed to be at a loss for words.
“What?” Smolder asked.
“I...guess I knew that dragons lived for a long time, but it’s something else hearing you talk about it like it’s nothing.”
Smolder shrugged and turned away from them, suddenly feeling really hungry. And itchy. “Yeah. Dragon biology. Kinda quirky.”
“Excuse me?” came a voice.
The group turned to see a large stallion with the store’s uniform, holding a fishing pole, which was tangled up in rope, and inside of the rope was Silverstream, smiling at them sheepishly.
“Is she yours?” asked the stallion.
“Forever and ever,” said Gallus. “Just ring her up with the knife.”
Something from deep inside the cave glowed a menacing red, the color of poppies. From what they could see from the outside, there was an immediate drop into a menacing dark tunnel. The bottom was only barely visible.
Ocellus turned to her friends, lovers, partners-in-crime and bad influences. “Pass me the chips.”
Silverstream, who was closest to her, passed her a bag of chips. Ocellus took one and ate it, crunching loudly. Then she handed it back to Silverstream. She turned back to the cave.
“What do we do if one of us dies?” she asked.
Smolder, who was beside Silverstream, said “I’ll die if you do.”
Ocellus frowned. “Is that supposed to be romantic, or a dare, like, ‘if you eat a spoonful of this super spicy hot sauce, I’ll do it with you’?”
“Bit of both,” said Smolder.
“None of us are dying,” Gallus said. He was furthest from Ocellus, standing beside Smolder.
“How do you know?” Silverstream asked.
“How do—” Gallus rubbed his face. “Look, none of us are dying.”
“Obviously I don’t want anyone to die,” said Ocellus. “I’m just wondering what we do if we die.”
“We should have a code word!” Silverstream said.
“Code word,” Gallus said. “For when you’re dead.”
“For if the survivors do a séance and we need to test the spirit to make sure that they are who they say they are!”
“Oh, of course,” Gallus said. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Saggy crotch tits,” said Smolder.
Gallus and Ocellus looked at her with raised eyebrows. Silverstream giggled.
“Code word?” Smolder said, looking at them like they were stupid.
“Works for me!” Silverstream said. “Oh, and if saggy crotch tits somehow gets compromised, we can set up a back-up codeword! Like…’glazed ponut’!”
Gallus sighed. “Okay. Fine. Can we go in now?”
Ocellus transformed, taking on her favorite dragon disguise, and leapt into the cave. Her three fiancees followed suit.
Ocellus didn’t bother flapping. The drop was faster without controlled flying, and she was good at making sudden landings. Air brushed over her scales, and as she fell she felt butterflies in her stomach. What kind of horrors would they encounter? What trials and tribulations had this dragon set up to test those seeking to plunder his hoard while he slept?
What was his name? Why had that never come up?
“What’s this guy’s name?” she asked Smolder.
Smolder blinked. “Oh! I never told you guys what his deal was, huh?”
“Just that he has the rings we need!” Silverstream said.
“He’s not like, the ex-evil ruler of all dragonkind or anything, right?” Gallus asked.
“Nothing like that,” said Smolder. “Rumor has it that he went travelling way back when and saved a village of ponies from windigoes. He lived there without any trouble between him or the villagers for the next thousand years, and then at some point he retired here with all of the village’s treasure.”
“That’s kind of creepy,” said Gallus.
“Eh. I’ve stolen from creepier dudes,” Smolder said. “This should be a breeze.”
They reached the bottom, all landing quite gracefully.
Ocellus expected a series of tunnels filled with traps. Or guardian monsters or spirits chasing them through a maze. She didn’t expect for the drop to culminate in a single, massive room lined by torches with blood-red fire, with a giant vault door at the end.
“This is surprisingly easy!” Silverstream said.
“Who’s our locksmith?” Smolder asked.
“I’m feeling lazy,” Gallus said.
“That leaves me,” said Ocellus. She flew to the vault door. It had the standard giant wheel, but the actual lock was astoundingly simple. It just looked like a standard house door lock. She grabbed her tools out of her bag and quickly got to work.
“You never mentioned the dragon’s name, Smolder,” Gallus said.
“Right,” Smolder said. “His name’s Belial. Seems like a decent dude.”
“How do you know about his horde?” asked Silverstream. “Is there a secret dragon market where they buy and sell their hoards’ most priceless treasures?”
“No,” Smolder said. She scratched her chin, a smile building. “That’s not a bad idea, though. Twilight’d go crazy for that, too. Might make for a good final project.”
“Can I get partial credit?” Silverstream asked.
“Of course, baby,” Smolder said. “But, you know, most of it’s gonna be mine.”
“I’m fine with that!”
“Streams, you need to value yourself more,” Gallus said.
“I value myself plenty!” Silverstream said. “I just don’t care if Smolder uses one of my ideas.”
Ocellus heard the sound of beaks kissing beaks. An unmistakable sound, like two coconuts slamming into each other mixed with a wet kiss.
“You don’t deserve this girl,” said Gallus. He was probably talking to Smolder.
Smolder chuckled and said, “I know.”
“Everyone deserves me!” Silverstream said.
“That is most definitely not true,” said Gallus. “You’re more expensive than anything in this old guy’s hoard, Streams.”
“Aww!”
As Gallus and Silverstream kissed, Ocellus managed to open the lock. A loud click sounded and the giant wheel of the vault began to turn on its own as the door opened. Ocellus flew backwards, joining the other three at their sides, watching as a golden light began to fill the room. When the door opened fully, she saw that the source of the light was the many, many bits that lay on the floor of the vault in giant piles.
The bits only had her attention for a second, however. She was immediately distracted by the giant head that lay on an especially big pile of silver chalices. Belial’s scales were a sleek steel gray, and did not reflect light. It was like he was made of smoke.
“Holy shit,” Gallus whispered.
“Sweet!” Silverstream cheered, albeit much more quietly than she normally would. “I’ll take point!”
Silverstream shot into the air, entering the vault before the rest of them could blink, and leanded somewhere out of sight, amongst the piles of treasure.
The dragon made a noise, like a thousand desks being dragged against a classroom floor. Ocellus, Smolder and Gallus froze.
But the dragon did not stir.
Ocellus stepped into the vault. It was much bigger on the inside. It was as big as the School of Friendship’s entire campus, and all of it was glittering and very, very valuable. Belial’s body stretched across the middle of the piles of treasure, gigantic but slender for his massive size, as long as two full-sized buckball stadiums.
“Please tell me you know where the rings are,” she said to Smolder. They watched as Gallus flew toward wherever Silverstream went.
“Kind of, maybe,” Smolder said, waving a claw. “Not really. But a little bit?”
“I’m going to kill you,” Ocellus said, smiling despite herself.
“You’re so murderous today,” Smolder said, leaning in to nuzzle her. “The info I have says that the rings all glow different colors of the rainbow. Sound familiar?”
“Very,” said Ocellus. They gingerly stepped around Belial’s head and made their way down an alley of treasure. “Who’s the person who gave you this tip, by the way?”
“Garble heard it from a friend of a friend.”
“Oh, so it’s all a giant prank to put you in mortal danger.”
“I dunno, maybe. But I have a good feeling about this.”
Gallus flew as quietly as he could, flapping his wings only every ten seconds or so, riding the breeze and going at a steady pace so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping dragon just a few feet away.
“Silverstream!” he hissed at every nook and cranny, looking around desperately for spots of pastel pink amongst the gold and silver and jewels.
He turned a corner and found her rooting through a treasure chest, muttering to herself. He sat beside her, sighing in relief.
“Streams, you kill me whenever you run off like that,” he said.
“Congrats on coming back to life every time,” she replied. She stopped her rummaging for a second to wink at him.
Gallus rolled his eyes, ignoring the suddenly noticeable pitter-patter of his heart. “You find the rings yet? I wanna get outta here as fast as possible.”
“Not yet,” she said. “Why don’t you wanna stay here?”
“Um!” Gallus gestured with a wing to the vault wall, which was mostly darkened by Belial’s sleeping shadow.
“Good point,” said Silverstream. “I don’t know, though. He seems friendly.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Smolder’s story. What kind of villainous ruffian saves an entire pony village from a bunch of ice ghosts and then doesn’t burn it down for himself?”
“I don’t pretend to know dragons,” said Gallus.
“You know Smolder.”
“She’s not a dragon anymore. Nor am I a griffon. We’re part pony now. Part of the pony consciousness. The pony matrix. The ponymind.”
“Maybe Belial is, too,” said Silverstream. “Maybe…”
She stopped her rummaging. Gallus recognized the look in her eye.
Silverstream had an idea. The kind of idea that you wrote in a fancy font because it was just so...that.
“Streams,” Gallus cautioned. “No.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” Silverstream said. She was smiling now, which meant that it was too late and whatever she was going to do next was unpreventable.
Gallus went over the facts, the topic at hand, the way that his girlfriend’s beautiful, crazy, stupid, loving mind worked. He said, “You’re going to try to wake Belial up and ask him if we can have his six enchanted rings.”
Silverstream smiled wider. “I was actually thinking about how cute your face is when you’re worried about an idea that you’re about to give to me.”
“Silverstream!” he cried, but Silverstream was already in the air, flying towards the dragon.
Gallus took after her, flying as hard as he could.
Silverstream landed on top of his nose, danced around in a circle, stood on her hind legs and brought her claws together. With an eagle’s cry she swung them down.
There was a giant BONK sound. Gallus arrived in time to snatch Silverstream off of Belial’s snout as his eyes opened and he opened his jaw, plumes of smoke rising out from his throat as he let out a gigantic yawn that rattled Gallus’s ears.
“Streams!” Gallus yelled. “You’ve—”
There came a voice, and it made Gallus’s chest shake. It was ancient and out of practice. It was ink dark and steely. “Who. Are. You.”
Gallus turned around.
Belial was awake. His eyes were open, and they were the color of the setting sun. He looked down on Gallus and Silverstream with vague interest, or maybe it was sleepy annoyance.
“Lady Silverstream of House Crataeis, third house in service to the Hippogriff Crown,” Silverstream said happily. She wrapped a wing around Gallus. “This is my favorite consort, and my fiance. My future malewife.”
Gallus blushed bright red. He looked up at Belial in horror. The dragon’s expression had changed slightly. There was a little more life to his eyes.
“And you have disturbed my slumber,” said Belial, “why?”
“We want your rings, dickhead!” came Smolder’s voice. She landed hard in front of Gallus, wings flared, fire spilling out of her mouth.
Ocellus landed gingerly beside them, looked at Gallus tiredly, and then slammed her hoof into her face.
“My rings,” Belial repeated, a laugh on the horizon of his voice. “My..my rings. As if I would simply let you have them.”
The great dragon backed up, knocking several piles of treasure over. To the tune of the clanging of chalices and coins and swords Belial recoiled, standing up straight for what must have been the first time in fifty—no, a hundred years.
Belial brought a claw forward, moving it close to the group so they could see that around it was a chain, and on the chain were six silver rings that were ornately decorated and inlaid with jewels of red, orange, pink, blue, white and magenta.
“They were forged by those dearest to my heart,” said Belial. “In the fires of the volcano near our happy village. They were enchanted to make the wearers never grow apart. Never would they be without the love and the friendship of each other. Never would their memories fade. Not until their last breaths. Not until the sky turned to water and the ocean to fire. And you want to take them from me.”
“You married five ponies from the village you saved,” Silverstream said. “I was right.”
Gallus thought he saw a look of embarrassment come upon Belial, but it was gone in a moment.
The great dragon said, “Yes. I did. And these rings are mine.”
“Well,” Smolder said. “It’s not like they’re getting much use as is, so how about you—”
“Do you miss them?” Silverstream asked.
Belial looked taken aback, but again, his expression only lasted for a moment before it returned to his sovereign, regal disinterest. “What is your play here, my Lady?” he asked. “Are you here to steal from me—”
“Yes!” Smolder interrupted.
“—or are you here to ask me of my life?” continued Belial.
“I’m here because I’m in love!” Silverstream said. “Do you miss your partners?”
Belial looked at her for a time, and Gallus could finally pinpoint the look on his face because it didn’t disappear. He could see what Belial was thinking because he had seen that same look in the mirror. The effect that Silverstream had on creatures who possessed a conscience. The pressing, innocent way that she tested your heart. The easy way that she made you fall in love with her.
Gallus laughed in disbelief. He looked at Silverstream, and she caught his gaze and saw his face and mouthed, “I love you.”
And Belial answered her, closing his eyes. “Yes. I miss them. And these rings are all I have left.”
Belial opened his eyes, and suddenly his sunset eyes were reminding Gallus of a wildfire. The dragon spoke: “I will not let you have them without a worthy battle.”
In Gallus’s peripherals he could see Smolder rearing up to yell at him, and Ocellus preparing to stop her, and before either of them could make something happen he looked up and he yelled, “We don’t want them anymore!”
Smolder and Ocellus froze.
“What?” asked Smolder.
“We don’t need them,” Gallus said to her. “We can make our own, can’t we?”
“We!” Smolder hissed, “just spent an entire day preparing to steal this guy’s shit!”
“And we had fun, didn’t we?” Gallus asked.
“But!” Smolder said. She gestured wildly to Belial, to the cave. “Petty theft! Battle!”
“Another day,” said Gallus.
Smolder glared at him. “And the ‘right’ rings?”
“We don’t need his shit. We only need to know how to make rings like his.”
“I don’t know anything about smithing!” Smolder said.
Gallus shrugged. “Ocellus can take the notes.”
Smolder looked incredulous. Gallus stepped towards her.
“Look,” he said huskily, “our love’s real, right? And so was his. And I don’t know about you but I’m gonna feel bad if we take that away from him.”
Smolder’s gaze softened. He came close to her, and they touched foreheads.
“No fight,” said Gallus.
“A normal dragon would fight. A normal griffon would steal,” said Smolder.
“Blame it on our dumb pony school,” said Gallus. “I always do.”
Smolder sighed. “Alright.”
Belial’s commanding voice cut through their moment. “For the record, I am willing to teach you.”
And then Silverstream dragged Gallus back, hugging him with all of her might, kissing his nick sloppily. “Oh, I am so proud of you I can’t believe you thought that up I was actually about to throw pocket sand in his eyes but this is a much much much better idea and now we can—”
Gallus got lost in the moment, and for the next hour they sat and romped amongst the treasure, and they left the vault not as Belial’s adversaries, but as friends.
Ocellus woke up in the middle of the night covered in pink and blue wings. On either side of her were Silverstream and Gallus, snoring identically. Sleepily, she wondered who learned the rise and fall of their breaths from who, and then decided that it didn’t matter, because it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.
She looked up, expecting to see the pale beige scaled underside of her bestest friend in the whole world, but Smolder wasn’t where she was when they fell asleep on Gallus’s dorm room floor. The dragon had left her hoard in the middle of the night.
Ocellus heard sniffling coming from the window. She turned her head, ears perked in alarm. Smolder was sitting by it. Smolder was crying.
She wriggled out of her birdpile and stood up quietly, keeping a watchful eye on her partners to make sure that they weren’t woken up. When she could walk without stepping on anycreature, she approached Smolder, making audible hoofsteps.
Smolder, thankfully, did not pretend that she wasn’t crying. She merely looked over at Ocellus, and when they were close enough to embrace, they did so tightly and desperately.
Smolder pressed her face against Ocellus’s neck, doing her best to control the renewed anguish in her sobs.
Ocellus rubbed her back, shushing her until she went quiet. Then she pulled back and gave Smolder a long kiss.
“My love,” Ocellus said softly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Smolder’s eyes were red. She sniffed. “I can’t take it, Ozzie. I can’t stand this anymore.”
“Can’t stand what?” Ocellus asked.
“I’m a dragon,” Smolder said. She put a claw on her heart, grimacing in pain, and Ocellus’s own heart broke. What she wouldn’t give to heal her in a moment…
“I’m going to live,” Smolder continued, “for a thousand years. For more, if I’m lucky. And—and you! You’re going to—”
Smolder stopped. She turned away, gritting her teeth hard enough that Ocellus could them grinding together, whining lowly. She put her claws on her face, trying to wipe away the tears as they came.
Ocellus merely sat, and she waited until Smolder was done. When she was steady next, Ocellus leaned in for another kiss.
This kiss was soft and chaste, and when Ocellus pulled back she said, “I love you. I love you forever, Smolder. So does Gallus, and Silverstream, and Sandbar and Yona. And we’re going to be together forever.”
“For—” Smolder scoffed. “Forever. Sure. But that’s just something you say, Ozzie. It’s not real.”
“Not usually,” said Ocellus. She turned and she took out a piece of parchment that she had been keeping under her elytra since they left Belial’s cave.
Smolder took it, squinting. “A map? No, an old map.”
“Read the title of the map. The big one in fancy lettering.”
“Found in ol’ Youb. Where’s Youb?”
“Smolder, it’s a map to the Fountain of Youth,” said Ocellus. “It’s an old Equestrian myth. A body of water that, when you drink from it, grants you immortality.”
Smolder laughed in disbelief. “Where’d you get this?”
“I stole it from Belial’s hoard. Which means that it’s old. And that it might be real.”
Smolder looked at her, tense. “And if it’s not?”
Ocellus came closer and she put her hoof in Smolder’s. “We’ll have to go into another cave, another hoard until we find something real.. And if we don’t...well, I can’t imagine that you’ll ever forget us after all of those adventures.”
Smolder wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. Ocellus cooed, thanking her for trusting her, because of course this wasn’t easy, and she loved Smolder so much, until the end of time, until the end of the universe…
They settled into a steady quiet after that.
Smolder eventually asked her, “Why did you steal from Belial?”
“I figured he wouldn’t miss it,” said Ocellus. “And we did come there for petty theft.”
Smolder laughed. They shared in a kiss. “I love you,” she said. “I love you all.”
“We know,” said Ocellus. “I love you. And you know something?”
“What’s that?” Smolder asked.
Ocellus grinned. “I’m pretty sure that you’re going to die first anyways.”
“Not if I push you into lava,” said Smolder.
“Not if I poison your food.”
“Not if I tell Yona you stole her Sandbar body pillow.”
“Not if—”
They continued like that until they were too tired to speak, and returned to where Silverstream and Gallus were sleeping to join them. Ocellus expected that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. but it came nice and easy, and as she drifted off to the realm of dream she felt only grateful for the creatures around her, and the hole in her heart that was left vacant by her two missing partners felt a little better.
She wondered what they were up to. She hoped that it was fun. She certainly knew that she had had some.
