“You have to live, Spike.”

Those had been the last words Fluttershy had said to me before I blacked out. I’d learn later on that the other girls had dragged me away while I was unconscious. Pinkie had told me before we stopped talking that it had been terrifying watching me bleed everywhere while Applejack desperately tried to bandage me up. A patch job at best for how injured I was.

Before that though, I had woken up in pain. It had been excruciating, like someone had ripped off each of my scales individually.

Awareness came, too, once I had gotten used to it. White fur covered my vision and the sound of somepony screaming my name filled my ears. It was my brother, Shining Armour, cradling me to his chest.

He looked strange, encircled by bright pink magic that emitted from his horn and eyes. Hovering behind his head was an arcane made skull entwined with a wreath of flowers. It was in equal measures both beautiful and terrifying.

In my half aware pain-addled state, I’d thought I’d been blessed to have one final moment with my brother before passing on. I told him that I loved him because he needed to know that before I died and then resolved that I wouldn’t see him again.

Sobbing had followed, more begging, desperate pleas. The magic had grown more intense and then, impossibly, my pain began to subside. A feeling of warmth, love, and protection filled me.

I was fine. I was alive.

Once I’d recovered enough to function, I had been filled in on what had happened. My sister’s death. The state of the war. What Shining had done to me. I had mourned, I had raged, but never once had I resented Shining for what he’d done.

While I took the time to recover, side effects began to occur. A strange amalgamation of a dragon’s growth with the constant outpour of magic from Shining that sustains me caused me to grow to be as large as any of the Princesses. My flames were hotter, my claws and teeth sharper. All useful as I decided to join the front lines alongside my brother.

Over the course of the war, I had gained a reputation. The Storm’s Bane, when they think I couldn’t hear. The Captain’s Abomination, when the doors were closed and they thought I couldn’t reach them.

As I continued to live, intrusive thoughts tended to invade my waking mind. Dread at my new life, fear for what is to become of it, loneliness left by the loss of so many ponies who were important to me. It was hard living day by day, the guilt of having survived weighing so heavily on me.

But when I become overwhelmed, I repeated my personal mantra to myself.

I am Spike the dragon.

I am the brother of Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armour.

I will never bend to those who would harm me or my family.

I will live.

And, at the end of the day, those are the most important things to me.

Spike carefully made his way down the worn stone steps deeper into the dungeon taking extra care to not bang his head on the low ceiling. It was damp and cold, a far cry from the warmer upper floors of the castle. Dim lighting barely guided him further to his destination.

The dungeons had been unused for several hundred years as they had been, at best, an idle threat during Celestia’s long solo reign of Equestria. A thing that existed but saw no real prisoners.

In more recent times, the underground cells had seen plenty of use containing the numerous criminals apprehended in the aftermath of the war.

As he reached the landing and walked past the rows of cells on either side of him, Spike scanned the various prisoners as he searched for his eventual conversation partner. He scratched idly at the stitches along his neck where his new vocal cords lay just itchy and awkward feeling enough to cause him annoyance.

Prisoners that saw him walk past all reacted in different ways. Some taunted him, others screamed in terror, even a few stared at him in open awe. All of them were well fed given their physical states, but the combination of bruises along their bodies and missing mattresses told Spike it was one of the very few comforts they were allowed.

He made mental notes of a few unexplainable injuries on some of the inmates to report back to Luna about. They could be carryover from before their imprisonment, or self-inflicted from their time in the cell, but Spike was almost certain the guards had caused them and he knew Luna would never tolerate that kind of behaviour from her wardens.

After several twists and turns, he came to a stop before the cell he was looking for. He leered through the metal bars feeling mild distaste for the red dragon curled up inside.

“Garble,” Spike said.

Startled, the dragon turned towards Spike, a strange slate clattering to the floor alongside several pieces of chalk. Garble’s eyes widened as they took in Spike’s appearance before he lunged forward, pressing his face up against the bars and snarled at him.

Ignoring Garble’s gnashing teeth, Spike took note of the rust coloured bandages bound tightly around Garble’s neck. Presumably they covered the stitched up wounds from his earlier surgery.

“How are you doing, Garble?” Spike said casually, “enjoying your time in the cell?”

Snorting, Garble grabbed his slate from the floor and scribbled something quickly onto it using chalk. He pressed it up against the bars as he snarled revealing scratchy Equestrian writing. It read, Go buck yourself.

“Yeah, I deserve that one, but seriously, are they feeding you properly? None of that fake meat they tried to get me on when I was younger?”

Rolling his eyes, Garble wiped the slate clean and jotted down a new message. Yeah, they are, you bucking dweeb, the slate read.

“Glad to hear. So, did they tell you why they did what they did to you?”

No, they’re ponies. Who fucking cares?

“I dunno, knowing the truth behind something can be—” Spike adjusted the muscles around his vocal cords to revert to the scratchy cadence he knew Garble would recognize “—pretty infuriating, dweeb.”

Widening his eyes in recognition, Garble slammed himself against the bars, foaming at the mouth. Spike stared at him in indifference as he reached his arms through the bars and clawed at the air between them.

“Always resorts to violence this one,” Spike commented as he returned to his preferred register, “though, I guess this time it’s actually warranted.”

Snarling, Garble pressed more of his body against the bars using his legs to scramble up the metal.

“Okay, that’s enough, Garble. If you keep making a scene, the guards are going to come here and hit you with their stupid spears then you’ll get hurt even worse than you already are.” Garble continued to lash out while Spike rolled his eyes. “Come on, knock it off.”

After a few more moments of Garble’s useless assault, Spike sighed and lunged forward. He grabbed Garble by the neck and pulled his face to be inches from his own. He squeezed, causing Garble’s stitches to open and drench the bandages with fresh splotches of red.

Letting a growl start to form in the back of his throat, Spike increased its intensity then roared in Garble’s face as blue flames shot from the corners of his mouth.

Fear overtook Garble’s expression as he flailed wildly in Spike’s grip. Spike released Garble who scrambled away from him, shivering in fright.

“See?” Spike said casually, “was that so hard? Now the guards don’t have to punish you. I don’t want you to see you get hurt… well, anymore than you already are.”

Idly scratching the back of his head, Spike felt some guilt at seeing Garble cowering away from him.

“Okay, I could have handled that better. Look, I have a peace offering for you.”

Digging into his saddlebags, Spike removed a diamond that fit comfortably in the palm of his claw. He held it out to Garble allowing the dim lighting to glint off the surface.

Garble stared in open desire at the stone.

“You want it?” Spike asked.

A hesitant nod followed.

Spike tossed the gemstone into the cell letting it clatter against the tiles. Garble rushed forward, grabbing the object in his claws. He scarfed it down, gnashing it against his teeth into smaller chunks to be promptly devoured.

After gobbling down the pieces, he shot a skeptical look towards Spike.

“I have more if you’re willing to put up with my rambling. Especially considering it will be the only luxuries afforded to you after what you’ve done.”

Stomping towards the bars, he growled at Spike in an attempt to form words then in frustration as he remembered his inability to speak. He grabbed his discarded slate and furiously wrote out his response, slamming the finished message against the bars. I didn’t do shit.

“The village you raided would disagree. How much damage did you cause? Actually, more importantly, how many ponies were injured because of you?”

No one died, Garble wrote and punctuated with a growl.

“Not at the time, but it provoked a follow up attack from the ponies who at that point were used to war.” Spike tilted his head, coldly regarding Garble. “How many casualties were there amongst the dragons?”

The Dragon Lord will come get me.

“Ah, so you don’t know.” Garble snorted, a look of irritation crossed his face that seemed to tell Spike to not patronize him. “The Dragon Lord asked Luna to capture you.” Garble banged his slate against the bars again, a growl of rage leaving his mouth. “I don’t know why you’re surprised or mad. You ruined his reputation. He wanted that town there for protection and trade. So, to save face, he made you take all the blame.”

A mix of emotions rapidly crossed Garble’s face before settling on defeat as he slumped in place. He wrote a message on the slate, fine, what do you want?

“Someone to talk to.” Spike winced. “Sorry, I guess someone to talk at in this case.”

Rolling his eyes, Garble sat down on the floor and waved a hand in Spike’s direction.

Taking it as a sign to speak, Spike sat down, wrapping his tail around himself and minding his head in relation to the ceiling. “Right, so where to start? I guess the first place to begin is with how I don’t feel like a dragonet anymore.”

Grabbing his slate, Garble wrote down a response, scared of your size dumb scale pony?

“Huh, that’s a new one. Kind of like it. But, no. Not scared, just put off by it. I’m only…” Spike furrowed his brow in thought. “Thirteen? Fifteen? Honestly, I lost track, but I definitely don’t look my age and haven’t for a while.”

So, you’re whining because you look like a dragon now?

“No, I’m whining because I feel cheated out of my foalhood. No parent is going to be okay with me being around their foals at my current size, which means school and general play aren’t possible for me. Even past that, I can never be comfortable around other foals with what I’ve done.”

Sipping tea and wearing stupid pony clothes?

“Killing,” Spike answered in a dull monotone, “I did my part in the war and that meant leaving a trail of corpses in my wake.” He felt his mind wander as memories of the battlefield came to the forefront. “I feel like I should be more bothered by it, but all I can think is how disgusted I am by how much I enjoyed it.”

A look of respect crossed Garble’s face. Guess you are a dragon.

Scrunching his face in distaste, Spike said, “I don’t think Fluttershy or Twilight would be happy to hear that.”

Some dumb ponies you know?

“My savior and sister respectively.” He pressed in closer to the bars. “You’ll do well to not speak lightly of them.” Small blue flames spewed from the corners of his mouth as his eyes narrowed dangerously toward Garble.

Shirking away with a fearful expression, Garble gripped the slate tightly in his claws. Spike snorted then tossed another diamond into the cell, which was promptly devoured just as quickly as the last.

Once Garble was finished, licking the crumbs from around his mouth, Spike continued, “anyways, I feel they would both be disappointed in me to know what I’ve done.”

Who cares about some dead pony’s opinion?

“I do since—” Spike saw the memories flash before his eyes. His sister begging to let them go. Fluttershy smiling through tears as she bled out over him. “—they’re important to me.”

Whatever.

“Rather flippant, but anyways, backtracking a bit, I’m also uncomfortable with my size because of how unnatural it is.”

So? You hoarded. You grew. It’s what dragons do.

“I didn’t get this big from hoarding.”

A confused look crossed Garble’s face as he wrote, that’s impossible. Dragons only grow by age and hoarding.

“Not me. I’m this big because of my older brother’s magic.” Garble’s eyes widened as he hurriedly scrawled on his slate. “Before we get too deep into it, it’s what keeps me alive since I was raised from the dead.”

Pausing to process Spike’s latest statement, Garble wiped his slate again and wrote, then you’re his slave?

“No, I’m his sibling. Besides that, Shining has invented tons of ways for me to survive without needing his magic. I could switch to any of those methods anytime. I just…” Spike sighed, “haven’t.”

But he can make you do whatever he wants.

“That’s not how necromancy works, and I’m sure even if it did, I could trust my own brother to not abuse that power,” Spike growled, “watch your next words, Garble.”

Whatever, scale pony. So, what’s your problem?

“I don’t know who or what I am anymore. I’m all of these things to different kinds of beings, but I don’t know what I am to myself.”

You’re a dragon.

Spike grumped. “Yeah, thanks. I definitely couldn’t have figured that out for myself.”

Furiously scribbling down a new message overtop the previous, he slammed it against the bars to emphasize his point. You don’t act like it.

“So what you’re saying is that I should be more like a dragon?” Spike asked.

Garble underlined the word dragon several times with his chalk.

“So I should take from whomever, wherever, and whenever? Hoard valuables until I’m the biggest guy around?”

Garble nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Use physical force to make everyone do my bidding?” Spike moved closer to the bars.

Garble threw his claws up with an ecstatic expression on his face as it to say that Spike finally understood.

Pressing his head up against the bars, his eyes narrowing, he said in a deeper tone, “eliminate my enemies so they can’t get revenge on me?”

Starting to nod his head in agreement, Garble paused as he caught Spike’s tone.

“Maybe start with the one who would have the biggest reason to hate me?” Spike growled as flames gathered in the back of his throat.

Not liking the direction of Spike’s train of thought, Garble slowly backed away from the bars of the cell meeting Spike’s reproachful gaze and watching the flames burning brightly in his mouth.

After a moment, Spike leaned away and looked at Garble with a look of pity. “You’re lucky I take after ponies more than I do your kind,” he said.

Moving hesitantly, Garble wrote, you won’t kill me?

“No, I won’t,” Spike replied.

Then what are you going to do with me?

“I’m going to talk to Luna and ask she leave you be, but after that…” Spike trailed off as he thought, “... I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.”

You’re just going to leave me here?

As he stood up to ready himself to leave, Spike replied, “Yeah, I am. I’ll be back though.”

You’ll regret this scale pony.

“I’ll add you to the list; for now, stay well, Garble,” Spike said as he tossed his last diamond into the cell.

Not waiting to see if Garble ate his prize, Spike turned away and began to leave the dungeons feeling even more unsure of himself then when he’d began.

Author's Note