Chapters

Prologue
I - Clegmane the Steadfast
II - Twilight the Magnanimous
IV - Twilight the Student, Sparkle the Educator
V - The Steadfast Spear, The Foul Wind
VI - Of Lineage and Little Ships
VII - Winged Dreams and Tiny Hooves
III - Seasaddle the Delivered, Seasaddle the Indebted

Prologue
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Dutifully Yours

Prologue

1… 2… 3…

Twilight Sparkle paced about nervously on the lone platform of Ponyville Train Station. Little more than an arrangement of wooden planks nailed firmly in place, it was certainly no Canterlot Central. Even so, she took comfort in inspecting the aging boards, as if by doing so she could ground her own fluttering thoughts.

…8, 9, 10…

Thoughts that threatened to pull her away from herself, away from home. Actually, thoughts that really were pulling her away from home: Twilight was leaving Ponyville.

…16…17…18…

Oh, not forever, she did have duties as town librarian to fill after all.

…21…22…23…

It was just a few days. Time enough to reassess where her life was headed.

…27… 28… 29…

There had been much to consider and process as of late, especially after Spike’s return the world of the waking. Her junior assistant and lifelong friend’s sudden and involuntary hibernation had… changed him, mentally as well as physically. He’d grown large and handsome and seemed to have gained that special kind of wisdom that one only accrues with age.

…34…35…36…

Being outgrown by her little brother was disquieting to say the least, but it was a firecracker compared to the bombshell that followed.

…39…40…41…

A pony and a dragon. It had never even been attempted in the history of Equestria as far as Twilight knew, and that was saying something. She could probably write an honors thesis in Equestrian History from the archive tomes she already knew by heart and she’d spent the last few days trying to ferret out evidence of any past occurrences. No such luck. They would have to figure it out on their own.

…44…45…46…

They: A word loaded with meaning.

They: More than one–persons united in interest and purpose.

They: Together, bound as pages in a book, meant for each other.

The Dragon and the Mare.

Spike and Applejack… Friends, lovers, and soon to be lifelong mates.

…48…49…50…

Twilight was still trying to come to terms with their sudden relationship, let alone their decision to engage in matrimony!

…52…

Most of the townsfolk were unaware that the unusual pairing even existed. She was allowed to feel conflicted, right?

…53…

Her closest friends had embraced the relationship with open hearts and outstretched hooves, why couldn’t she do the same?

…54…55…

It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand how it had happened- she could, really! The love, having sprouted from a warm friendship, had grown gradually in peace before being tempered by war and political intrigue. All things considered, Twilight would have been more surprised if they hadn’t grown closer together through the ordeal. Still, Spike was her little brother. He was…

…56…

Spike was…

... 57…

Spike was, objectively, no longer the hatchling she had known. Objectively, he was a full drake, a grown up, and had the right to be treated as such. Objectively, He could make his own decisions and make them wisely. But, subjectively….

…58…

Still… still… She looked hard at board fifty-eight, silently demanding that it justify her nebulous misgivings. After a moment of hard staring, she realized that she would receive no response. She had over-counted: board fifty-eight simply did not exist.

Fifty-seven planks in total had been the subjects of her scrutiny, many weathered but all in acceptable condition to bear the brunt of shuffling ponies for years to come. Assumedly Canterlot Central was bigger and fancier due to the greater weight of traffic it received. She began to calculate the minimum population that would be necessary for the local train station to be built in the first place but soon gave up. Despite reading a textbook or two on the subject she was no engineer, and she certainly hadn’t gotten her cutie mark in contracting and development. Much like Spike and Applejack, some things simply were, for better or for worse. This station sit sentinel for her departure and would welcome her return.

My return. Twilight gave her head another shake, her distraction dissipating as she recalled the real reason for the rut she was wearing into the peaceful station floor. In an effort to keep her thoughts from spinning over into another loop Twilight checked the ticket she had purchased.

The Northeastern Express

Destination: Seasaddle –

Departing: 0930hrs

Arrival: 1800hrs

She turned to the station’s clock, set in the wall behind her.

0927hrs.

It wouldn’t be long now.

A tepid rumbling ran up her hooves and resonated in her thoughts. The train was nearly at the station. A distant steam whistle’s cheerful tune confirmed that reality. Before long, a steady stream of smoke puffing an ever-growing line that poured from a now-visible stack, followed by the bright cherry blossom pink of the Pony Express engine. A final whistle shrieked as it declared its imminent arrival at the simple platform. Twilight felt that she had merely blinked before she was standing before with the train that she dreaded boarding. The formerly quiet platform bustled with activity, ponies busying themselves with luggage, joyful reunions, and business of all kinds.

“All aboard!” the conductor bellowed from his window, his voice cutting across the busy station “All aboard for the Northeastern bound for Seasaddle!”

This is it, Twilight announced to herself. She prepared to step on the train but found her knees had locked leaving her hooves anchored rigidly to the platform, her courage frozen by a glacier of internal strife.

“May I help you with that, ma’am?” A deep voice startled Twilight from her stupor. Flushing with embarrassment, she turned to see a portly stallion wearing the blue coveralls of his industrial trade, a worker pony from the Express. He hefted the unicorn’s sole piece of carry on, a suitcase, with a single hoof and offered a small businesslike smile.

Twilight returned the smile, “I appreciate the notion, really, but I can handle it from here.” With a simple thought, the baggage floated free of the stallion’s grasp, wreathed in a magenta aura toward its owner.

“No problem, ma’am,” he smiled again before turning and hurrying over to help an arriving elderly couple who were cautiously stepping free from their coach. A couple. Intrigued, Twilight studied them. The stallion first assisted the elderly mare onto the platform, followed closely by the shaking old stallion while the mare waited quietly by. She smiled at the couple, so wrapped up in one-another’s presence.

What would it be like to settle down, to live and love with another, to spend the remainder of one’s own personal eternity side-by-side? She turned her gaze the strong worker, busy now assisting his elders. He was young, definitely younger than the ones he assisted, but still old enough to settle and marry, maybe have a few foals with a nice mare. Perhaps he already done so, but there was no easy way for Twilight to know. She lacked the boldness to inquire directly and more importantly lacked the time to explore the matter. Time, yes she was running out of that wasn’t she? She found herself moving towards the emerald-green coach, her hooves having forgotten their prior stupor.

As she approached the now-vacated coach she got a closer look at the elderly stallion. He seemed a proper kind of pony, silence born of manners and civility, a snapshot of the past days of class and gentry. The class and gentry… The stallion disappeared from her view as Twilight boarded the train, navigating the narrow halls before she found her assigned stall. She took a seat upon the unoccupied cushion of the provided couch, and laying her luggage down neatly in the corner she allowed herself to relax.

In the gentle humming of the overhead gemstone lamps it was not long before she drifted to him, she object of her little infatuation. The one who was as of yet unaware that he would soon have a guest. Part of her felt guilty for not writing him back, if only to ‘catch up’ on lost time. The more mischievous half was just giddy with anticipation, wanting to see a look of surprise on his firm visage when she suddenly appeared at his Seasadle seaside home. Lost in though, she had not realized how much time had passed since her boarding, for the gentle, yet abrupt surge forward that shook Twilight from her daydreams. The train slowly, but surely trudged on, building momentum as it shifted away from waking Ponyville. She leaned back into the couch and let her lids fall shut.

Drifting along in the soft rumbling of the cart, her thoughts turned to the trip ahead. Eight and a half hours, a whole day’s period of work for a normal pony, almost the whole day as far as productivity was concerned. Oh well, the trip would be worthwhile. Seasaddle was nice this time of year, with fresh breezes, a wonderful climate and picturesque shorelines. At least, that was the way the travel pamphlet had portrayed it, there was more than one side to everything, after all. Assuming the train kept to the proper schedule she would be able to see a spectacular sunset over the ocean. Hopefully she’d make it there before dark, although she was sure the night would be stunning in its own right.

Behind her lids the dark starry skies twisted into a dark coat and deep eyes. Clegmane, the one she sought upon her voyage’s end. The image filled her with warmth and she allowed a smile to spread across her lips. Yet still a twinge of worry nagged at her objective and logical side. Would he greet her? Her lids fluttered open, taking stock. As far as she knew he was unaware of her pending arrival, let alone prepared to receive her by day’s end. She wanted to surprise him, but in what manner would he be surprised? She eyed case she’d put so neatly in the corner. There really wasn’t much in terms of provisions that she was bringing with her, not much to really survive on. Her eyes snapped fully open. What he shut the door on her and made her leave? Her breathing rose. She’d have to find a place to stay and then take the next train back and-

No, she scolded herself, Just focus on arriving in one piece and deal with his reaction as it happens. It was the most logical notion she had conjured all morning. That little bit of respite allowed Twilight to calm her nerve and set her breathing into a deep and even pace.

Just one step at a time. Her eyelids drooped, gently pulling her thoughts down with them, and the unicorn settled into a pleasant sleep.

A/N: A special thanks to Luminous Lead for just being awesome and putting his 2 cents into the prologue. He will make this fic better without even realizing it.

I - Clegmane the Steadfast
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Dutifully Yours

I - Clegmane the Steadfast

Dutifully Yours

By: JusticeSnake

Edited by: maskedferret & Luminous Lead

Book 1

Chapter I: Clegmane the Steadfast

//-----------------------------

The dark unicorn clicked the glass display case closed. His Equestrian armour, saddle, spear, helm and all sat safely behind the cabinet’s reflective pane. Resting atop of the oak that framed his old guard outfit was a heavy brass plaque inscribed with his name and honorific. Sir Clegmane the Steadfast. He waited, trying to dredge up some of the old pride he had felt when he first received the plaque. Nothing. The words were just that: words. Empty and hollow. Just like his lonely home. Just like his lonely heart. He narrowed his eyes at the meaningless plaque and turned his back to the battle cabinet. Shifting his weight forward and gritting his teeth, Clegmane commanded his powerful legs to lash out. He urged them to demolish this waste of space, this relic from a bygone era.

Splintered wood, shattered glass and clattering steel was what he expected to hear. Instead, the only sound that found his ears was his escaping breath, shuddering from exasperation. Like his pride, his legs had failed to rise to the occasion. With an empty sigh the bulky stallion released tension in his shoulders and turned once more to face his legacy. As he had done so many times before, Clegmane inspected his armour.

Rigorous training had been the birth of this habit, to preserve his equipment was to preserve his life. In a life or death situation faulty equipment could hinder movement or even injure the wearer. Broken armour was worse than no armour at all. However, that was in the past. Today it was more a matter of remembrance, of gazing into the past and looking into the eyes of the stallion he had once been. He wondered, if indeed it could be done, what that stallion would see in his eyes. Would he think him a lesser pony, one no longer able to compete with the best of the best? It was possible. Then again perhaps the younger eyes would not fill with disdain at the stallion he had become, perhaps they would catch and rest upon the new sash that adorned the steel-plated saddle. Deep pine green and of the softest felt, the sash surrounded the golden armour like a tropical snake, bearing the weight of many years. Golden thread woven through the fabric sparkled in the high noon sun, twisting into an old guard motto,

Resting but not Retired.

One never truly left the Guard. Not really. There was always a chance that he could be called back to help train the new recruits, or to assists in a managerial capacity. Maybe even active duty if it was a war to fight. It wasn’t too likely though, for these were peaceful times. Stories of how the dragon invasion of Canterlot had failed catastrophically, an army a thousand strong routed in moments and with no casualties, certainly made it clear that Equestria was not a nation to be trifled with. The guard would have no need for the aging stallion. His only connection with them now was his not-so-insignificant pension, with which he had put into repairing his aging abode. Looking about his empty house, he wasn’t sure why he had bothered. Without a heart this empty house was just a big box of expensive, albeit well maintained, firewood. This was Oignon Downs: a sturdy house, build by the proud family who tended the nearby fields of onions. Their mastery of the vegetable-growing craft had matched their competence with building homes, for this homestead had withstood many a fierce storm that lashed forth from the wild Pintocific. Clegmane nodded how years of neglect had barely worn the old home down. Still, his presence in this vacant space felt unsettling to him, to say the least. He snorted dismissively.

A large coffin to hide me away, and a funeral pyre to send me off. It was a shame that pyres had gone out of style, but great big burning stacks of wood had lont been deemed environmentally unfriendly, not to mention dangerous in a city made of similar materials. Still, it would have been fitting, Clegmane had always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, performing a great sacred task that would be remembered long after he had passed on to whatever afterlife awaited him. Wherever Vidalia waited for him. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, an aging warhorse sitting all alone in a dusty house. Another green caught his stern brown eyes and they softened. That’s right, I’m not completely alone. Ambling over to the window overlooking the sea, he lowered his gaze to the only other living thing in the building.

A home within a home, tall green stalks rose from rich black earth; the potted plant being the only one of it’s kind to survive. He inhaled gently filling his lungs with their fragrance. Green onions. His favourite. There had been other plants, other flowers, but one by one they had withered and dried from neglect, cut off from his love. The onions would have shared the same fate in his apathy but for one thing: they had been Her favourite, too.

A single picture frame leaned against the pot, edged worn from the attention it had received. The photograph therein was old and also worn with age, a natural sepia tone filling and fading what had once been a lifelike snapshot. A pair of immortally young faces smiled widely at Clegmane as he gently levitated the frame to eye level. One was that of a dark unicorn, youthful and unfettered by the ages looked sharply at the camera with a cocksure grin. His own face. The white Earth pony mare smiling next to him had a light green mane to complement bright amber eyes. Vidalia. His wife, long passed. Long, long ago…

Clenching his eyes closed he could still see her as she been on the night she died, her fair face wearing a courageous smile even as her body succumbed to the grip of her ruthless illness. He could still hear her words, pained yet tender, whispered in his ear.

‘My darling,' she whispered to him. 'Promise me one thing.'

“Anything,” he had whispered back.

“Be happy. Please be happy even without me.” Hooves, weak from months of being confined to bed, stroked the length of his face even as tears formed on her own. “I want to pass on knowing that your wonderful smile will grace the world, even after I’m gone.” He had tried to fight back his tears, to be brave for her, but the young soldier had known that not all battles could be won. His tears had run throughout the bitter night, and as dawn broke she left him, her soul spiriting away into the glorious sunrise.

Clegmane put the picture back down and sighed heavily. “I'm sorry my love… I’ve failed you.” He glanced back at his encased armour then back to the photograph. “I haven't known much joy since you left me behind. I had almost forgotten what a joy reading or planting is and that was the last time I honestly smiled.” Clegmane shook his head. I'm such a sad sack. What the hay am I doing here feeling sorry for myself for? ‘Lia wouldn’t have wanted this. He glanced out the window to the seaside city below, the streets were bustling with life and many ponies cantering about their day. His day, too he realised. He was still alive, still here. He could still make a difference, if not in Canterlot, then maybe in Seasaddle.

He stamped a hoof down, disturbing a not-so-insignificant layer of dust. Right then, eyes for ward soldier. Glancing quickly around the old house, Clegmane decided that he should at least add a new coat of paint to the main atrium. He might not have guests to entertain, but there was no reason that he couldn’t have a nice house for his own benefit. It was midday and he hoped the hardware shop still had Vidalia's favourite shades of green. Maybe he could leave the upper window open while he was out and let the dead air blow out of the house; it would probably do the old Onions some good too.

The door shut with a solid thunk behind him as he stepped out. So this was retirement, huh? Drowning in memories and shoring up the past with fresh paint?

'Be happy. Don't let your smile faded from the world.’ Right, he wondered, when had he last actually smiled? Images of bright violet eyes, a gleaming lavender coat and a sparkling Cutie Mark answered him.

“Hm,” he mumbled, “But that was so long ago and I highly doubt she would even bother with me by now. I don't even know why I even bothered to send her the letter in the first place, since she didn't even reply.” He sighed again as his home shrank behind him. “Besides, a beautiful young mare like Twilight Sparkle has duties as protégé to the Princess herself why would she even take the time for an old warhorse like me?” Clegmane grumbled. Regardless, pining over friendships forsaken wasn’t going to help his fulfill his promise to Vidalia. He turned his focus to the sunny day, so as to encourage brighter thoughts.

A warm breeze met his mane and swept across the tall grass that flanked him on each side. The steadily swaying sea of golden grass carried with it the scent of summer. With a deep breath, Clegmane could feel his tense muscles relaxing. Such warmth and rustic beauty were rarely seen amid the cold stone towers of Canterlot’s lofty heights.

You know, I actually could get used to this.

Despite the heat of the sun a chill ran down along spine, radiating to his extremities.

But I really wish I wasn’t used to that.

Years of standing post as captain of the guard had sharpened his senses towards navigating political intrigue, but what he was experiencing was the backbone of all guard training: vigilance. He was trained and had trained others to notice when things were out of place, when something was wrong.

And here something was very, very wrong.

Shadows suddenly cloaked him and the surrounding field, putting a chill in the air, vanished just as quickly. A deep and piercing keen sounded above, causing Clegmane to quickly glance upwards. He almost wished he hadn’t.

Something large and black, with wide leathery wings, a long spear-like tail and sharpened grasping claws glided above him. Clegmane instantly dove for cover under the tall grass and watched as the large black figure descended towards the seaside village below. With the bright flash, a ball of fire erupted from the beast's mouth and streaked toward the densely packed buildings of Seasaddle. With a loud crack, the tall wooden structures erupted into flame. Clegmane could then hear a crescendo of distant screams from terrified ponies that filled the air as the black beast circled for another pass.

A Dragon! Clegmane’s eyes widened with disbelief. They've returned!

Without a second’s hesitation the dark unicorn turned about-face and charged back into his old home. As he entered the main floor he wheeled around and swiftly bucked the nearby display case, promptly shattering it. No time for the greaves or saddle, but they probably wouldn’t stop dragonfire anyway. He swiftly hefted levitated his steel helmet and spear. From the wall, he unhinged his personal round shield and slung across his back. Suitably equipped, Clegmane took a deep breath to settle his nerve before bursting forth from it his aging fortress and galloping swiftly towards a city now wreathed in flame.

I hope I'm not too late.

From the distance, the Dragon's roar met his ears and Clegmane galloped faster.

Chaos. Infernal Chaos. Clegmane could not believe his own eyes as he entered the outskirts of Seasaddle. The cityscape before him was set ablaze while thick smoke drowned out the sun. Darkness enveloped the entrance to the seaside city. Clegmane came to a halt as he rounded a corner and almost rammed headfirst into a panic-driven pony.

"Run!" the mare screamed.

"Did you see it?" Clegmane asked. He could not get an answer, as the pony charged off toward the foothills. No sooner was the mare out of sight when a second pony careened around the same corner, followed by another, then another. Suddenly, a floor of panicked ponies overwhelmed Clegmane, as he was the only one who strove to get deeper into the city. The rest of Seasaddle's populace thought otherwise.

Maybe I have gone crazy, Clegmane chided himself as he pressed on, shouldering his way through the crowd. If the heat had not stifled him before, the rising inferno did now. Clegmane continued to wade through the fleeing residents until he found himself near a brick wall. He turned his head to see if he could spot the end on this flow. As he did so, a pair of wide, anxious eyes stared back at him. Another pony, a mare with a smudged orange coat and luminous magenta eyes stared at him. She too had pressed herself against the brick wall, perhaps in order to escape the crowd herself. Clegmane could not be sure. Despite the inferno, despite the panic and heat and suffocating smoke, she simply looked to him, curiosity laced with… something else in her eyes.

Finally, she asked, "Are you from the Royal Guard?" He simply nodded.

"Are you here to save us?"

He nodded again. "Or die trying." She was silent for a long moment before the crowd lessened.

"Are you looking for that black dragon?" She asked. Clegmane's eyes widened and he quickly nodded.

"You don't need to look far." She pointed up. Clegmane looked up.

A pair of glowing icy blue eyes met him. A great black figure, basking in the smoke clung to the brick wall several stories above. From its snout, more smoke poured and behind parting lips, dripping fags were barred. A soft hissing escaped its throat as it released one talon from the wall and behind to loosen the other three.

Slowly, Clegmane stepped back from the wall, beckoning the mare to him with his shield. She refused to move as tears welled up in her eyes. She was frozen with fear. "Come here, slowly, and get behind me." She still refused to move.

The dragon's talons loosened and it dropped from the wall above the paralyzed mare.

"Move. NOW!" Clegmane commanded with the golden glow of his horn. At once, the mare was levitated and tugged toward and behind him. The dragon's claws impacted and the ground beneath him broke. With a roar, the dragon swiped with its arm at him. Its black claws rebounded off of his shield with a deafening clang. As the beast recoiled for another strike Clegmane chanced a glance behind him to see if the mare was still safe. She was nowhere to be found.

He then returned his focus to the dragon as it lunged forward with its teeth set upon him. Clegmane leapt to the right and rolled out of the creature's path. Raising his shield up again, Clegmane readied his spear as the beast unfurled its great wings and lunged forward yet again.

Spear and claw at last, were met.

II - Twilight the Magnanimous
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Dutifully Yours

II - Twilight the Magnanimous

Chapter II: Twilight the Magnanimous

\--------------------

Twilight gasped as she was shaken from her uneasy sleep. Her dreams had been dark, troubled, and wreathed with fire. The sudden jolt had come from the train itself. She glanced outside in southern shifting landscape come to a halt.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “What happened?”

“Attention, passengers!” The PA system rang. “Please do not panic as emergency procedures are now underway.” Heard the commotion of the other passengers, uncertainty and panic rising in the din of their voices. A service attendant, a youthful Pegasus, nervously trotted by on her way toward the engine. Twilight used her magic slide her compartment door open as she ran to catch up with the attendant.

“Excuse me, miss!”

The Pegasus turned around, her shocked expression quickly melting into sternness. “Ma'am, I will have to advise you to return to your compartment while we tend to the situation.”

“But,” Twilight responded, “I can help. I just need to know what's going on.”

“It is the duty of the staff to ensure the safety and comfort of all passengers, including emergency situations,” the Pegasus competently recited. “Now please return to your compartment.”

Twilight snorted and stamped her foot, her eyes ablaze. “I am the chosen student of her Majesty, Princess Celestia. I am the bearer of the Element of Magic, an avatar of Harmony.” Twilight stepped forward as the Pegasus withdrew, shrinking before the imposing unicorn. She continued, “And as such, I demand to know what the situation is so that I may assist in any way.”

“There—there's smoke on the horizon,” the attendant stammered. “There's a fire in Seasaddle.”

Twilight's heart fell into her stomach. “Fire on the coast? Why have we stopped?”

The Pegasus shook her head and responded, saying, “It is not the policy of the pony express to ferry passengers into a disaster zone.”

“That makes sense, but there somepony I really care for who lives in Seasaddle!” Twilight looked pleadingly at the attendant. “There must be something we can do!”

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” the Pegasus sighed. “If only you had wings like me, then you would not have a problem.”

Wings. Twilight smirked as the idea hatched in her brain. “I may not have wings,” she said as she looked at the Pegasus’ appendages, “but you do.” The attendant’s eyes widened with realization. She opened her mouth to speak, but Twilight cut her off. “How far away are we from Seasaddle?”

The attendant paused for a moment, then said, “About 30 kilometers, why?”

Twilight then used her magic to open nearby window. “May I have your name, please?” She asked, ignoring the attendant’s question.

“Um, my name is Snaproll.”

“Do you think you can carry up until I can at least see the city, Snaproll?” She asked.

“Are all the Elements as crazy as you?” Asked Snaproll.

Twilight offered the Pegasus a wry smile and responded, saying, “a year ago, I would have answered ‘yes’. Now let's get out this window.”

Snaproll huffed as she pumped her wings against gravity’s tenacious pull. For such a small unicorn, this Twilight Sparkle was heavier than she looked. Snaproll fought the strain in her lungs as she rose higher and higher. She nearly dropped Twilight when she looked to the East.

“Just a bit further, Snaproll!” Twilight called, sensing the strain of her companion’s wings. “You’re doing—” She gasped when she saw the rising plumes of smoke rising over the hills. The flickering fire itself, she could see, dancing in the distance of what remained of the coastal city.

Clegmane… no! Twilight shook her head and fought the tears that threatened to well. Concentrate, Twilight! She urged herself to calm down. Total control was required in order to pull off her intended task. I’ve never done it from this distance before, she noted to herself. “Pull yourself together, girl.” Twilight muttered under her breath. She concentrated on the horizon, on the smoke, the fire, the hills that preceded them. As Snaproll continued to rise, Twilight spotted one hill in particular. At the top was a lonely house, nestled safely away from the inferno below it. That must be Oingon Downs, she thought, hoping against hope that her friend was still there, away from that flaming pyre of a town. Something told her otherwise. The thought seized her heart with icy talons, dropping it further into her unsettled stomach. “This is good, Snaproll!”

The attendant huffed a response, “Beg pardon, ma’am?”

“Thank you for your assistance! You will find my review and commendations when you return!” Twilight cheerfully said to her helper. “Provided, of course, that I come back in one piece!”

“May I ask what you plan—” In a bright flash of white and mauve, the unicorn was gone and Snaproll’s burden suddenly eased, causing her to gasp in surprise. Once she regained her orientation, Snaproll glanced about, not catching a single sight of her charge. She took a long look at the furnace that was distant Seasaddle and sighed heavily.

“Yup,” she muttered to herself, “they’re all crazy.” At that, the Pony Express employee angled her wings and dove down to return to her post on the waiting train below. None of its passengers would get to see the fire, nor would she ever wish them to.

The air around the front porch of Oingon Downs boiled for but a millisecond before snapping into an orb of white light. In that same millisecond, the orb pulsated and grew into a bright purple supernova. Then, there was Twilight. She held her eyes tightly shut as her head turned and her stomach threatened to heave, though she managed to regain control. As she opened her eyes, she saw before her the tall walls and dark green of the wooden exterior of her friend’s house. For that moment, Twilight witnessed the history of a family, devoted to the growth and marketing of onions; a vegetable that she did not personal enjoy. She wanted to drink in the sight of this old house. Oh, the stories that were contained within its halls! Clegmane would have to tell her everything and she would listen, eagerly, just as she had done when she was just a filly. A flickering light illuminated the dark green of the aged abode.

The heat at her back warmed into horrid reality. Twilight quickly turned around to see its source. The southeastern quarter of Seasaddle was ablaze. With the speed of transmission, she calculated, Twilight estimated that the flames would spread to the entire city by nightfall. She glanced upward and the sun passed into early afternoon. There was no time to be lost! Innocent ponies were in danger. Clegmane would have to wait. Twilight charged down the street toward Seasaddle.

As she galloped at full tilt, she saw a discouraging sight: ponies. Hundreds of ponies gathered on the foothills, morosely watching their city be consumed. Hundreds more fled in all directions, screaming at the top of their lungs, “Dragons! They bring fire and death!”

“Dragons! They took my husband!”

“Unquenchable fire! Everywhere!”

“Where’s my foal? Has anypony seen my foal!”

“Dragons!”

“Run for your lives!”

“Dragons!”

“Dragons?” Twilight repeated. No time to question! I have to get this fire under control! She quickly reached the outskirts of Seasaddle where pumper wagons sprayed ceaseless streams of water onto the flames. Yet, for all their efforts, the fire could not be contained and would not be wrested. The firefighters, covered in soot and sweat, did not take notice of the purple newcomer approaching them and the fire. As the flames licked the afternoon sky, Twilight stamped her hooves, thinking of what to conjure, what to cast, what spell that can cool these unusual flames.

“Aha!” Twilight stamped a final time and shut her eyes when the solution came through. Quickly, she angled her horn in the direction of the nearest building set ablaze. With a bright purple hue, her horn came to life and cast forth a great cascade of magical film, which wrapped the building entirely. Without a second’s hesitation, snow, ice, water and foam fell upon the building, covering it completely. With a loud hiss, the inferno was silenced and the fire contained.

This time, the firefighters took notice and gawped, open-jawed at the little unicorn that had slipped past their guard. With a sheepish smile, Twilight waved innocently and said, “Um, just a trick I learned back in Canterlot. You don’t mind of I help, do you?”

All five of that pumper’s crew shook their heads unanimously, saying, “No ma’am!”

At that, Twilight nodded and returned her focus to the flames. Again and again, she cast her spell, building for building, block for block. The Seasaddle Fire Department trailed after her, spreading out and tackling the fires on their own terms. They were making progress, but Twilight’s knees began to wobble. The spell’s magical drain had begun to take effect and the inferno raged on still. It was not until a hoof placed itself upon Twilight’s shoulder that she saw the face of a young unicorn, dark of coat and with a bright smile. No armour or helm or spear accompanied him.

“I… I remember you,” Twilight huffed, returning his smile.

“It’s surprisingly good to see you again, Lady Sparkle,” the unicorn replied.

“Gen D’arme!” Twilight recalled the helpful guard from Canterlot during the dragon incident six weeks past. “What are you doing here?”

“No time to explain,” Gen D’arme said, shaking his head. “We have to get you out of here!”

It was Twilight’s turn to shake her head, “No! We need to stop this fire!”

“It’s not the fire, Lady Sparkle!” urged Gen D’arme, “It’s the—”

A loud roar erupted from behind the row of nearby buildings. The rumbling that followed nearly took Twilight off her hooves, had Gen D’arme not been there to steady her. “Dragon!” somepony screamed.

With another roar, the building collapsed into a heap of dust and rubble. From the rising ash and soot, a great black form overtook the flames. From the wall of rising smoke, a pair of blue eyes emerged, sitting atop a long black snout. Yet another shrieking roar bellowed forth from the creature’s throat as it lunged forward and down. Another figure emerged from the rubble and narrowly dodged the strike. Twilight gasped when she saw the dark coat and the glimmer of shield, spear and helm against the light of the surrounding flames. It was a large pony, a unicorn stallion levitating his weapons and defences. A deep gash flowed freely of blood upon his right flank, obscuring his Cutie Mark. Ash was smeared across everything else.

“Clegmane?” Twilight whispered. The dragon recoiled from its previous lunge, only to receive a spear to the side of his head, just below the eye. Without a sound, the beast struck out with its tail and cut the stallion’s hooves out from under it. With a pained grunt, he fell to the cobblestone.

“Clegmane!” Twilight shouted as the beast opened its mouth and spat a jet of flame onto the downed nuisance of a pony that dared defy it. The fire enveloped the withered stallion completely. The flames died down and the smoke cleared. Only, the dragon hissed instead of casting a victorious howl. For, Clegmane remained unharmed, and was instead encased in a bright purple bubble. Twilight’s horn glistened as her eyes became narrow and focused.

The stunned Clegmane glanced behind him and saw a pair of ponies facing him and his opponent. One, a unicorn stallion, he recognized as Gen D’arme: a dependable pony, but lacking in experience.

The female pony, on the other hand, cause his breath to catch in his throat. “Twilight?” Her eyes were focused completely on him and the spell she had cast. Glancing about, he saw the means of his preservation. With another glance back to Twilight, he smiled warmly, though she did not see it at first. A low, irritated growl pervaded and Clegmane shot back up to his hooves, gathering his spear and shield. A giant talon rose up and came crashing down onto the bubble, fracturing it. Furrows and cracks snaked along the dome. Another stomp and the bubble broke, though Clegmane dove free of it. With a mighty wind-up, Clegmane lunged forward and threw his shield at the dragon’s vulnerable throat. With a clang, the rim struck home and the beast opened its mighty maw, exposing its fangs. Using his magic once more, Clegmane reared up and threw his weight forward, casting his spear into the mouth of the dragon. The spearhead connected with the roof of the dragon’s mouth and buried itself deep. Howling in pain, the dragon instinctively closed its mouth, using its tongue to dislodge the embedded weapon. Clegmane panted and reached out with his magic for the shield that landed in a clatter nearby. Sweat and blood dripped from his wounded brow and open flank. Twilight could see that he struggled simply to breathe.

“Lady Sparkle, try using that spell of yours on the dragon’s mouth while its open!” Gen D’arme shouted as he ran past her to get to Clegmane. A pair of fire axes was held in his magical grasp and he handed one to his old captain. Clegmane nodded and accepted the offer with a sly glance toward their enemy. At once, they charged.

“For Seasaddle!” Gen D’arme hollered as he lashed out at the dragon’s ankle.

“For Equestria!” Clegmane roared as he jumped into the air toward the dragon’s underbelly, slashing across the scales.

“For Celestia!” Gen D’arme struck again and again.

“For Twilight!” Clegmane delivered yet another blow to the dragon’s ever-weakening belly.

Twilight heard this and her heart rose from the depths of her stomach. She ground her teeth as she prepared her spell and aimed her horn at the dragon’s open mouth. Her strength ebbed as she gathered the energies necessary for the conjuration. Her knees wobbled and her back ached, but eventually, she smiled.

“Hey, dragon!” she called with a loud, clear voice. The black beast turned its icy blue eyes to its new challenger. With a smile, Twilight prepared to unleash her spell. “Cool off!”

At that, Twilight unleashed a steady stream of magic, liquid beams of ice burst forth and caught the dragon’s mouth, freezing its tongue, throat and belly. With a holler of pain, the dragon thrashed about and unfurled its wings, unable to set the air aflame. A great gust blew Twilight, Clegmane and Gen D’arme back and into a nearby water pumper, its contents spilling upon all of them. Before anypony could register what had happened, the dragon took wing and was gone.

Amid the smoke-laden skies, rays of the late afternoon sun broke through. Twilight lay in a pool of water while the city continued to burn. She felt her fatigue begin to take its toll, her head and horn ached. Before the blackness could claim her, she turned her head to see the face she had travelled so far to see. His amber eyes were locked onto hers. A small smile was upon his lips. Thank you, Clegmane mouthed as his heavy lids closed. She reached out to him, but was lifted up and away.

“We have some live ones!”

“Not for long if we don’t evac them.”

“The mare, get her loaded first.”

“No…” Twilight protested, still reaching for Clegmane. “Him… first….”

“Let’s hurry up, ponies!

“Move out!”

“Get rest of those unicorns set up! We’ll have to lift the entire Pintocific if we have to!”

This was the last thing Twilight could recall before her vision darkened: Voices.

At least I got to see him again.

Cotton. Twilight felt cotton pressing against her cheek, warm and soft to the touch. A light blanket was draped over her, though she curled herself up, despite the warmth. A distant beeping kept a steady rhythm that caused her eyes to flutter open. Light flooded in from the nearby window, which had been opened to allow a cool morning breeze that tickled her nose. She sighed deeply and stretched her limbs. How long has she been out? Where was she? Was she still in—

“The city!” she cried as her head popped up from the pillow. Quickly, Twilight rose from the bed, only to feel a tug at her ankle. Frantically, she glanced down to see what she was tethered to. A long tube ran, firstly inserted into her venous return—the radial, she estimated—from a small bag containing a clear liquid. Not only did she note the presence of the tube, but several leads adhered to her chest near her heart, themselves leading into a nearby electrocardiogram machine. She was in a hospital, or intensive care clinic of some sort. The original question remained: was it in Seasaddle or had she been evacuated to nearby Vanhoover?

Questions, questions, questions and no answers seemed to stem their tide.

Until. “Ah, glad to see you’re up and about, Miss Sparkle!”

Twilight turned her attention to the doorway of the single bedroom she had been placed in. Standing in the threshold was a young stallion, garbed in stained nursing scrubs. Despite his youth, Twilight saw heavy bags under his eyes, which were shaded a slight red. She suddenly felt guilty for having been so well-rested when this nurse seemed worse for the wear. And yet, he bore a cheerful smile that shamed the fatigue upon his visage. Twilight took a quick glance at the nurse’s identification card that carried his name: Woolencap. Woolencap? She thought. That’s a silly name. She smiled back, though a little giggle did escape her throat. Nurse Woolencap raised an eyebrow and stepped forward. “Is something the matter, Miss Sparkle? I’m your nurse, Woolencap, and if you nee—” The young stallion was interrupted by the raucous laughter of his mirthful client at the mention of his name. Then it hit him.

“Ah,” he deadpanned as he rolled his eyes. “Not the first time somepony’s gotten a kick out of my name.” Twilight was barely getting control of herself. “Nor will it be the last.”

“I,” she stammered, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Nurse…”

“Woolen—”

“Woolencap, yes!” Twilight snorted. Woolencap simply waited, patiently. Somehow.

“I’m glad that you’ve taken some enjoyment, Miss Sparkle,” said Woolencap as he stepped forward. “You probably needed a good laugh after what you did yesterday, eh?” he asked, trying to lighten up.

“Yesterday? It’s already been a whole day?” Twilight put an end to her giggle fit and fixed the stallion with an invested stare.

“Correct, Miss. We’ve been up all night taking in ponies. The burn ward is overflowing, so we’ve had to doubly sterilize and make use of other wards.”

Twilight glanced out the window into the cityscape. “Does that mean we’re still in Seasaddle?”

“Well, yes,” replied Woolencap. “Thanks to you and Sir Clegmane, of course!” The nurse’s smile returned, full of admiration. The bags under his eyes no longer seemed to burden him as he added; “Nothing gets the endorphins pumping like being the nurse caring for a pair of heroes. Media’s been hounding the hospital for hours now. We had no problem with kicking ‘em out; reciting sanitation and infectious disease protocol and all that jazz.” Woolencap offered a wry smile.

Twilight, however, latched onto one word in that entire monologue: Clegmane. “Did you say Sir Clegmane? Is he here? On this floor?” She tried not to sound too eager, but her hooved told otherwise. The EKG and IV cradle rolled along the floor after her as she came face-to-face with Woolencap, her eyes wide with anticipation.

The nurse placed a hoof lightly upon Twilight’s tense shoulder and said, “Careful with that IV, Miss Sparkle. You’ve been severely dehydrated since your encounter with the inferno, you’ll need the electrolytes in that saline solution.” He walked around his patient to check the bag she was tethered to and then moved toward the EKG, which beeped wildly with her agitated pulse. “This thing, however, we’ve needed a replacement for since the neighties, according to my mentor.” Woolencap gave the machine a little bump with his hoof and grumbled. Twilight watched him, waiting.

Woolencap continued, “To answer your question: Yes, Sir Clegmane is next door and is demanding to be discharged despite that so-called ‘shaving accident’ he calls an injury on his flank.”

“May I go see him?” Twilight nearly demanded with an anxious shifting of her hooves.

“Of course, Miss Twilight,” Woolencap responded cheerfully. “Doctor says you’re clear to get unhooked from the EKG once I clear your vitals. The IV will have to stay until we’re sure that your hydration is optimal. That sound fair?” Twilight nodded feverishly.

“Oki-doki-loki, then let’s get started!” Twilight simply stared at Woolencap as he took a sphygmomanometer out from a nearby drawer and pulled his stethoscope free from his pocket. As the was placing the instrument in his ears, he politely asked, “May I ask you to sit back down on the bed while I take your blood pressure?” Twilight wordlessly obeyed and raised her left hoof out to let Nurse Woolencap work his trade.

Finally, she asked, “Nurse?”

“Mm?” replied the busy healthcare professional.

“Would you happen to be familiar with one Pinkamena Diane Pie?”

Woolencap took a moment to process the inquiry. “And they say I have a weird name.” Twilight rolled her eyes, but the nurse continued, “Personally, I’ve never met her, but I do have a good friend; geologist, good guy, who has a major crush on somepony by that name or something similar. I think he calls her Pinkie, but I doubt he’s even met the girl.”

“Ah,” said Twilight and the matter was dropped. She watched as Woolencap diligently checked her vital signs and jotted the results down. The darkness under his brown eyes spoke of a sleepless night and many horror stories that only a nurse could bear to withstand. This young stallion, this Woolencap had been worked to the bone in an effort to contribute to his hospital. That kind of integrity was becoming a rare asset in the lives of most ponies of the day. It was then that she noticed that this hard-working nurse was actually an Earth pony. If she wasn’t reminded before, Twilight could now hardly deny that Woolencap reminded her of Applejack back in Ponyville. And, just like Applejack last year, Woolencap seemed ready to drop at a moment’s notice. The only thing that kept his standing was a sheer force of will. Applejack would respect that.

“You know, Nurse Woolencap?” began Twilight.

“Mm?” asked the nurse who was busy disconnecting and storing the EKG.

“I think you’d get along well with my friend Applejack. She’s quite the worker herself when it comes to supporting others. She’d definitely know a think or two about endless, back-breaking tasks.”

“Is that so?” asked Woolencap, clearly interested. “Do you think you can put in a good word for me with her?” He winked. Both he and Twilight laughed.

“Sorry,” she said, “AJ’s taken. Speaking of which, I need to head back for her engagement party just as soon as a finish what I’m doing here.”

“What were you doing other than saving the city and her people?” Woolencap asked, genuinely interested.

“She came to pay a visit to a sorry old warhorse like me. Celestia knows why she would bother.” A gruff voice answered from the doorway. Both Twilight and Woolencap looked over and saw the large, dark unicorn stallion standing there. His mane was singed, but still displaying its salt and pepper features. Upon his chin and along his jaw line, a dark beard had grown, initially unnoticed by Twilight the previous day. She saw that it was actually quite dignifying and becoming of a stallion of his status, especially adorned with the speckles of grey. Only this time, he bore to helm or shield. His body was entirely bare, free of weapons or armour. Twilight followed his firm jaw toward his large frame that still carried dense muscle and sinew gain from years of a strict, physically demanding lifestyle. It was then that she noticed his flank, scarred, burnt and broken, concealed only by a fresh series of bandages.

“Clegmane! You’re alright!” Twilight leapt up and galloped toward him before suddenly wrapping her forelimbs around his neck and burrowing her head into his chest. Clegmane shifted awkwardly and coughed as he stepped back and looked down to the smaller mare. A rare smile dared to traverse his long visage, but it failed to distract the reason for Twilight’s sudden gasp. She saw it then, the right side of his face that he had managed to keep shortly well hidden. Or maybe she just refused to notice until now that a black eye patch covered his right eye. Deep furrows, cleaned and tended extended beyond the cover of his patch. Before Twilight could ask, she reached out to hold the side of his head sympathetically.

Clegmane withdrew and said, “I caught some flak in that final few minutes. Nothing to worry about.”

Worry was at the forefront of Twilight’s mind. Her chest clenched as she took in his battered face and bandaged body. Guilt swam within her, unleashing a torrent of anger: anger at the flames, anger at the dragon who caused them, anger at herself for not being there for him sooner. That anger swiftly subsided into an icy pain that gripped her heart.

“I’m sorry,” she sadly admitted, her head hanging low in remorse.

“For?” he asked, placing a hoof beneath her chin and raising her head up once more. She could not help but flush at the gentleness of his worn hoof. Her eyes met with his one, sole remaining. Had they been unharmed, they would have been the same amber eyes that she recognized from so many years ago, from when they had first met. She was sure he thought nothing of her then, being the curious, questioning filly that she was. She reached out to stroke the side of his face once more. Clegmane’s hoof gently intercepted hers and brought it back down to the floor. Again, he asked, “What are you sorry for? Saving the city? Saving all of those ponies? Saving my worthless hide?”

Twilight shot her scarred friend a sharp stare. “You may not be a part of the Guard anymore, Sir Clegmane, but I will not tolerate your self-punishing verbiage in my presence. I am upset because I should have been here right away, and if I had, you would be well, still have your eye and would not consider yourself worthless!”

“Hm,” Clegmane grumbled. Slowly, he said, “I am glad to see that you received my letter.” Immediately, Twilight’s nerves cooled with the smoothness of his firm voice. “Further more, if you permit me to say so, I am surprised you’ve arrived so soon after I sent it out. How long did it take you to prepare?”

“I left the next day.” Clegmane’s stonewalled countenance offered some semblance of being taken aback. His good eye widened, only slightly. His strong jaw dropped, only slightly. Despite this, Twilight hung her head with guilt, for she felt the cost of her rash decision.

“Why?” Was all that Clegmane asked. That question carried with it all that Twilight knew what was reasonable to ask: why so soon? Why not reply first? Why in such a hurry? And she knew the answer, though she would not say.

“I don’t know,” was her lie. “I don’t know why I decided to leave right away. I don’t know why I chose to do so, even if that meant leaving my dragon friend behind; my brother who had just risen from a six-week coma of mysterious onset. I don’t know why I left him behind, even when he had just announced his engagement to one of my best friends.”

“The young dragon? Master Spike?” Clegmane clarified.

“And Lady Applejack, yes.”

“Hm. Strange pair,” remarked Clegmane, flatly.

“Tell me about it,” Twilight gave a hollow laugh.

“Um,” a new voice entered the conversation, “I’d hate to interrupt, but I have your discharge papers here, Miss Sparkle, signed by the doctor. I just need your signature and we can free you to meet the mayor.

Twilight signed the papers as Nurse Woolencap gently removed the IV line from her ankle and quickly patched the insertion point. “Wait, what?” she finally asked, handing the clipboard back to him. Woolencap took the board in between his teeth and repeated, “Va Ma’or wans oo ee ewe.”

“The mayor apparently wishes to meet with you.” Clegmane said.

Nurse Woolencap nodded, spitting the board onto a nearby cart. “Word travels fast here in Seasaddle, so the ponies know who to thank for helping control the harshest of the fire. The fire chief spoke of a purple mare with a sparkling cutie mark. The paramedic superintendant confirmed police requests for a pony matching your description and, like I said before, we at the hospital have been beating the media back ever since.”

“But,” Twilight shook her head, “but why me? Why not everyone involved with the emergency services? Why not Clegmane? He fought the dragon, for crying out loud!”

“I’ve already been approached,” Clegmane huffed. “Told them to piss off or else I’d find my spear again.”

Twilight couldn’t help but giggle at him then. “Well, what about Gen… Gen D’arme!” She gasped, “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Twilight.” Clegmane placed a reassuring hood on her shoulder and she clamed down. He continued, “I’ll take you to him. Thank you, nurse. We’ll be off after we visit our comrade.”

“Sure thing!” Woolencap called after the pair as they left the single room. As Twilight rounded the corner, she swore she could hear the young nursing stallion mutter, “A dragon and a pony? How does that work?” She chuckled.

I’ve since learned not to question matters of the heart, she recounted to herself as she glance next to Clegmane pacing closely and gracefully next to her. Then again, maybe I just don’t know what the hay I’m doing.

Twilight saw Gen D’arme smiling widely as she trotted into the four-bed wardroom. That smile quickly thinned as Clegmane followed her in. At once, the bed-ridden stallion rose and straightened his back before struggling to raise his arm in a weak salute. She saw the cast that encased his forelimb. So focused was she, that Twilight did took no notice of the remaining three beds being occupied by other ponies, all with bandages and burn scars. They watched with wide-eyed wonder as the legendary stallion that fought the dragon also accompanied the purple unicorn that saved the city. As they approached the bed of the wounded guard, they kept their voices to themselves.

Clegmane’s deep voice nearly startled her. “Lock that arm down, son. There’s no need to salute me anymore. I’m no longer captain, remember?” Twilight could hear the resentment that resonated within his quiet grumble.

Gen D’arme kept his torso rigid as his arm came down again. “You will always be my captain, sir.” To this, Clegmane gave a short nod, saying nothing else.

“Does it hurt?” Twilight asked, her voice laced with concern as she approached Gen D’arme’s bedside.

“Naw, ma’am,” Gen D’arme chuckled as she looked over his cast. She saw that it was properly set, professionally tended to and with no visible defacement.

“They do good work here,” Gen D’arme remarked. Twilight nodded in agreement.

“Word on the ward is that you two are heroes!” Gen D’arme declared joyfully. “Boy, does the mayor want a piece of you. Heh.”

“We’ll be sure to let the mayor know that you deserve recognition, as well as all of Seasaddle’s services,” Twilight replied. “I didn’t do much.”

Gen D’arme frowned, raising his eyebrow. “Not much? Bull!” He scoffed, “I’m looking at the mare who managed to conjure a combination series of Deep Freeze, Foam and Water spells, not once, not twice, but nearly a dozen times across the Eastern Blocks.” Twilight blushed with the shower of praise. Gen D’arme then traded looks with Clegmane and continued, “And Sir Clegmane the Steadfast—if I may, sir—single-hoofedly took on that nasty black dragon for nearly an hour before Lady Sparkle arrived!” Twilight could see that Clegmane still looked unenthused when Gen D’arme sighed in defeat. “Fine, forget it.”

“You helped, too, Gen D’arme,” Twilight said with a smile.

“Please, Miss Sparkle, call me Gene. It’s less formal.” The young soldier offered.

Twilight gave an enthused laugh and replied, saying, “Only if you call me Twilight from now on. There should be little formality among friends.”

“Of course, Twilight. And thank you.” Gene leaded back and relaxed in his bed.

“No problem, ‘Gene’.”

“I’m content with calling you Gen D’arme.” Clegmane stated.

“Very good, sir.” Gene nodded and Clegmane received.

“How long are they going to keep you here, Gene?” Twilight asked.

“They said maybe a week. Something about ensuring the prevention of infection, I don’t know.” Gene waved off the concern.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked.

“I’m a Guard of the Citadel, Twilight,” Gene said with absolute conviction. “I cannot be stopped by a few broken bones.”

“Well-said, son.” Clegmane did not smile, but Twilight could tell he was being sincere. This did not appear to be lost on Gene either. Silence pervaded the group, amid the bustling hallways outside the room.

“I think we should go meet the mayor now, Clegmane, and see what he or she—”

“It’s a he,” Gene corrected.

“—What he wants,” Twilight concluded before she and Clegmane turned to head out the door.

As they did so, Gene called, “He’s a sneaky bugger, be mindful!”

“Thanks for the head up, Gene,” Twilight called back.

“Good luck!”

As soon as Twilight and Clegmane left the threshold, she could hear multiple voices suddenly erupt from the room, all with questions directed toward Gene. She shrugged it off as she and Clegmane trotted toward the main entrance of the hospital. As they did so, she could feel eyes following her and her friend. Voices, hushed and awed, were about them. Twilight could not pick a specific private conversation, but she did not less droop her ears with all the wanton attention. It was then that she felt something brush against her shoulder. She turned her head to see that it was Clegmane getting closer. Is he trying to protect me? She wondered. Heat flushed her cheeks as they followed the exit path.

“Are you alright, Twilight?” Clegmane softly asked, his deep voice only above a whisper.

“I’m fine!” she squeaked. But no sooner could he reply that they were outside the hospital and surrounded by ponies. Bright flashes blinded her, voices floored her thoughts and countless microphones were shoved, not only in her face, but in Clegmane’s as well.

“Miss Sparkle! Miss Sparkle!”

“Sir Clegmane! A word, please?”

“What spells did you use that the Seasaddle Fire Department could not?”

“Sir Clegmane! What was it like being the only pony is modern history to actually face and survive a physical clash with a dragon?”

“ENOUGH!” Clegmane’s voice bellowed, augmented by the green glow of his horn.

At once, the crowd parted, silenced and cowed by the force of his booming voice. Through the path cleared, a unicorn stood at the very end, flanked with a darkly coated, shaded, well-built security Earthen stallion on each side. The central pony was tall and sported a grey coat with a dark, slicked-back mane. Upon this pony’s visage was a wide, knowing smile. His blue eyes were bright and friendly. A red rose was clipped to his green necktie which waved lazily in the passing breeze. With that breeze, came the smell of charred wood, melted plastic and steam. Twilight nearly gagged at the stench as she and Clegmane approached the unicorn waiting for them.

“Impressive use of the Canterlot Voice, Sir Clegmane the Steadfast!” The unicorn’s voice was shrill, high-pitched and very flamboyant. “Though, I hesitate to call it Royal, in the absence of our Princesses. Welcome to Seasaddle!” The unicorn chuckled and raised his hoof to shake. Twilight raised a brow and Clegmane’s stone face did not move, nor did his hoof.

“I would suggest for you to shake Mayor Coffee Bean’s hoof, sir!” warned the nearby security stallion. Clegmane did not answer. The stallion stepped forward with his forelimb lifted, only to have Clegmane swiftly side-step, grab the limb and hoist. With a startled grunt, the earth pony was raised up and over before crashing down to the ground. At least he would have crashed, had it not been for a purple aura that wreathed both ponies, separating them. At once, the victim to Clegmane’s Buckchak Silat was quietly reoriented back onto his shaking hooves and gently set down. Clegmane, on the other hand, was harshly forced back next to Twilight as her horn ceased glowing. The former guardspony glanced down to Twilight only to have an elbow sharply delivered to his ribs. It was no heavy strike, but enough for Twilight to get her point across. Clegmane grumbled, but made no protest. Inwardly, she smiled.

Outwardly, she spoke, saying, “Please forgive my friend. He’s been through a rough day, as we all have, I’m sure, Mister Mayor.”

The shocked expression that plastered across the mayor’s melted into a formal smile. His hoof was still raised, but simply shifted to Twilight. “Oh, no, Miss Sparkle! Please forgive Brutus here, he can be quite forward and protective of my interests. Again, I welcome you, both of you, to our fair city!”

Twilight took the hoof and shook. Mayor Coffee Bean seemed wise enough this time to offer Clegmane a simple nod. The warrior stared through the fellow unicorn, who chuckled nervously. “I must emphasize my welcome on behalf of all the citizens of Seasaddle, that we owe our fair city’s continued existence, not only to the service ponies who strove to save it, but to you two in particular, strangers who risked their lives to expel what we could not!”

Twilight smiled, but shook her head, saying, “I appreciate the, er, focus that you’ve decided to give us, but I’m sure this gratitude is best reserved for the service ponies and their families.”

“But nothing, Lady Sparkle, Sir Clegmane—my that sounds rather fitting together—your exceptional skill and bravery leave our citizens with something to aspire toward!” Twilight opened her mouth to protest, for she knew that Clegmane would only stare through the Mayor again. Coffee Bean, however, raised a hoof to politely cut her off before she could begin. “Please, Lady Sparkle, I would be more than happy if you and Sir Clegmane could at least humour me by accepting a ride in my personal carriage back to city hall, where I would be further obliged to offer you both a spot of tea—or coffee, if you prefer, Seasaddle’s finest—and discuss some opportunities with me.”

What kind of opportunities? Twilight wondered. She looked up at Clegmane, who simply stared forward like she always knew him to. Seasaddle coffee sounded really good to her, especially after yesterday. She may not have noticed before, but she could definitely feel some residual stress that frayed her nerves. Perhaps the worst of it was yet to hit, she presumed. As she stared at stone-faced Clegmane, wounded Clegmane, Twilight could not help but feel that stress and worry begin to rise in her breast. The sight of his patched eye and bandaged flank threatened to fray her nerves even further. And yet, he seemed to be doing fine. She knew that his stoic expression cold veil anything, however. It hurt her to see him so broken, yet so strong at the same time.

She decided to answer for the both of them, “Clegmane and I accept your invitation, but the Princesses must be informed of this tragedy before any opportunities can be discussed.”

The Mayor offered his widest grin. “I heartily agree with you, Lady Sparkle! Now please, after you.” Twilight stepped into the luxurious carriage amid the torrent of flash photography and desperate voices, yearning for a word, any word. They avoided Clegmane as he, too, entered the spacious carriage. Mayor Coffee Bean and his bodyguards followed suit and sat opposite the Lady and the Sir.

With a lopsided smile, the Mayor watched them for a brief moment. Twilight saw his eyes smoothly shift between Clegmane and herself. The awkward feeling of being appraised and judged hung in her mind, though she opted to look out the window toward the swiftly passing landscape. The morning sun had only risen an hour ago, yet the residual smoke screen from the inferno hung tenaciously in the air. Weather Pegasi worked feverishly to clear the sky above the destruction. Blackened buildings and warm cinders pervaded the eastern blocks of the seaside city. She frowned at the sight, but was brought out of her stupor by Mayor Coffee Bean clearing his throat, which brought her attention back to him.

“I see that you are quite protective of Lady Sparkle, Sir Clegmane. One could definitely confirm that you are, indeed, steadfast, even in retirement.”

Twilight flushed slightly. Clegmane said nothing, but merely nodded. The security stallion to the mayor’s right shifted in his seat slightly.

The Mayor pressed on, regardless, “Witnesses claim that your spear did not break, even against the dragon’s scales. How fortunate. Canterlot’s smithies should themselves be praised!”

Again, nothing.

“Others say that you were not alone when Lady Sparkle arrived, that a younger Guard stood with you against the beast.”

“Gen D’arme.” Clegmane grunted.

“Ah yes, thank you,” Coffee Bean nodded, “Can you, perhaps, inform me of the Gen D’arme’s fate?”

“He lives, your honour.” Clegmane answered, still staring through the back wall of the carriage.

“Good!” cried the Mayor. “Then he, too, shall be commended at once!” Clegmane did not answer, but, again, nodded his approval. Twilight suddenly felt the eyes of the Mayor settle upon her. Here is comes, she thought: the barrage of questions.

“If I may, Lady Sparkle,” the stately unicorn began, “what brings you to Seasaddle to begin with? Friends? Family? Royal business?” She saw him subtly glance at Clegmane before returning his inquisitive gaze to her. “Or pleasure?”

She frowned inwardly. Is he assuming something? Am I? She was not prepared for the implications and insinuations. Play it cool, Twilight. You’re here for a visit… with your old friend… older friend… much older friend, whom you’ve had a crush on since forever! Just visiting. No more, no less. She looked over to statuesque Clegmane and then back toward the grinning mayor. “Just seeing the sights,” she replied evenly.

“Ah yes,” cooed the mayor. “Seasaddle has many older, but no less commanding sights to appreciate. That does not mean that the younger areas are unfit to explore.” He chuckled. Twilight chuckled, of only to humour him. Clegmane did nothing.

After what Twilight felt was an eternity, the extended carriage came to a smooth halt in front of Seasaddle City Hall. Mayor Coffee Bean magically held the door open as both Twilight and Clegmane stepped out once again into the morning sun. Twilight’s eyes widened when she saw its very regent standing tall before her amid a crowd of ponies that surrounded the building to see her. At once, Twilight bent the knee and bowed low before Princess Celestia.

“You may rise, Twilight Sparkle. As may you, Sir Clegmane.” Celestia’s voice carried along the sea breeze, as if it commanded the weather itself. Twilight rose with the command. Her ears perked when they perceived the effortful grunting of Clegmane as he, too rose. She turned her head and offered a worried glance. Clegmane did not see it, for his amber eyes bore the sight of Celestia. This determination on his part did not shame Twilight’s worry as she watched his chest rise and fall with pained effort. His hind leg just below the deep wound on his flank shook unsteadily. Still, the remainder of his body remained rigid with disciplined focus. She frowned as she watched him, but then quickly turned to face the Princess, who now stood mere meters away, as if she had floated silently down the stairs to the street level below.

“Is something the matter, Twilight?” Celestia asked, her violet eyes and velvet voice laced with concern. Twilight bit her lip and watched Clegmane in her periphery. His shaking seemed to have stopped, but she was not entirely sure.

“Nothing is bothering me at the moment, Princess. I assure you that it can wait.” She could never lie outright to Celestia, but there were more important matters at hoof.

“Very well,” began the Princess, evenly. She continued, saying; “Now if you will please follow me, both Sir Clegmane and yourself, I have an announcement to make.” Celestia gave a curt smile and beckoned the pair to follow her back up the stairs. Each stone step echoed softly with Twilight’s every tepid motion. Despite her hooves being shod with golden armoured shoes, the Princess made no sound as she ascended. Behind Twilight, Clegmane huffed with the pressure placed upon his wounded flank, making his steps heavy and clumsy by proxy. Again, Twilight glanced back toward him and offered a small smile. Much to her surprise, Clegmane locked his eyes with hers and grinned back, despite the wincing made evident with his every step. Quickly, she returned her focus to the stairs before her, hiding the heat that claimed her cheeks. As she did so, Twilight’s eyes met those of the Princess, who offered a sidelong glance back at her faithful student. A small grin impressed upon her regal face accented the knowing gleam in Her Majesty’s eyes. Twilight’s face flushed deeper as the fur on the back of her neck began to rise with embarrassment. Her tail flicked apprehensively.

Upon the very top of the stairs, a large dais was set, garnered in the drapery of Equestria and the City of Seasaddle itself. Above the Royal Crest and the City Emblem, an oak podium sat, facing the ever-growing crowd beneath them. Once they reached the top, Twilight saw that the Mayor, his security and staff were already waiting at the opposing side of the dais. He and the Princess exchanged nods and the Mayor approached the podium. The murmur of the crowd settled into nothingness as he raised his grey wings, and then slowly lowered them. The ponies attention rapt, the Mayor cleared his throat.

“My brave citizens! My fellow ponies!” He began loudly. “Together, we have born witness to a horrible tragedy, a great trauma and acts of bravery yet recorded by the histories! To those who have been spared the first-hoof experience, the rumours and reports you have heard and read are true! A dragon was in our midst!” The crowd gasped in horror. “Our fair city was attacked and set ablaze by the breath of this same dragon. He who struck a blow against us; he whose reasons and motives remain a mystery; he who has, with these heinous deeds, earned himself the unending ire and fury of us, the ponies of Seasaddle!”

The anger of the crowd rose with Mayor Coffee Bean’s voice. He sure knows how to work up a crowd, Twilight noted as the pegasus’ wings once again unfurled with the vivid description of his hatred for the dragon. The ponies of Seasaddle, she could see, soon adopted this hatred. The flames in their eyes mirrored those they had survived. Their collective breaths may have been able to rekindle that very fire. Her train of thought derailed with the thunderous applauds of the citizens as they welcomed their Princess. Shaking her head, Twilight saw that Coffee Bean’s speech had ended and had transitioned to the introduction of Princess Celestia, who took his place on stage.

“Thank you, Mayor. And thank you, my little ponies, for having me this morning.” Celestia began with a graceful smile. All the anger and hatred that painted the masks of all in attendance soon melted and gave way to loving adoration of their Princess. “Yesterday was, indeed, a day of infamy for the City of Seasaddle. Never before has a dragon so ruthlessly and needlessly attacked those whom they prefer to avoid. This remains a mystery, even to my experiences. But rest assured, citizens! All mysteries can be solved with the proper application of effort and investigation.” Celestia paused for a moment and Twilight saw that the Princess quickly glanced over toward her. Or was it Clegmane? The eye of the Princess swept across both of them. Twilight futilely glanced between the speaker and Clegmane, the latter himself bore an equal expression of perplexity.

“I can confirm two things, my little ponies,” Celestia continued. “I can confirm that your ears do not deceive you about the news from Canterlot: dragons have threatened our capitol, our homes, our lives and our very way of life for reasons unknown.”

Reasons unknown? Twilight wondered, perplexed. They gave their reasons to me, personally! They wanted Spike. Why would the Princess lie about that, unless….

“Regardless, their numbers were turned back, placated with our offer of peace.” Celestia paused to allow that information to distill within her crowd. Quiet murmuring resounded from the old stone walls of City Hall.

“At least, this was the case for the most reasonable of these dragons. There appears to be descent among their ranks, a rogue who chose this fair city out of nothing more than a whim.”

The crowd’s hushed din grew as the Princess continued her description, many nodding with understanding. Twilight saw that many still grumbled, their eyes laced with the same unchanging fury. How many ponies had lost their homes? She wondered. Who among them lost loved ones? She shuddered to think of it, of losing her parents, her brother? Spike? She looked to the east, toward distant Canterlot and even further to Ponyville. The strings of longing tugged suddenly at her heart. How was Spike doing without her? Then again, she reasoned, Applejack was probably with him at this moment. Another shudder took her. How will his parents react to this? How will the rest of Equestria react to them? The strings tugged harder.

“Rogue or not, alone or not, I will not permit my ponies to be vulnerable to Dragon flames.” Celestia’s voice carried on, louder than before. “I will not allow such a violent and destructive creature to roam freely within our borders. I will not allow this crime to go unpunished.” Twilight watched on as the crowd beneath them cheered and applauded their Princess’ resolve. Her words flowed through Twilight’s ears, surely as she believed them to pervade theirs. It was a wonderful declaration of love, of fealty for her subjects. Twilight could not help but smile at her mentor, who spoke on, saying, “This fire was contained and defeated by the heroics of the Seasaddle Fire Department, this much is true!” The crowd cheered their brave fighters. “This city was supposed to be doomed by dragon fire, instead it has become Seasaddle the Delivered and now, Seasaddle the Indebted, because there is one who faced the flames and aided in a way that no other could. This singular pony, casting spells of great complexity, did undeniably reverse the fortunes of this fair city!”

Oh no… Twilight groaned as she felt the weight of the speech shift in her direction. Please don’t put the focus on me…. She felt a presence near her, a warm, calming reassurance that she had rarely felt before. A gentle hoof was placed upon her shoulder and Twilight saw that it belonged to Clegmane, who looked down to her and nodded curtly.

“I’ve seen you face dragons and fire, Twilight. Now it’s time for you to be just a little braver.” His words hung in her mind, sweet as they were.

“What about you? You fought the dragon itself!”

“But, what good would it have done? He almost killed me. And what of it if I had managed to slay him in turn? The city would have burned all the same.” Clegmane’s deep voice rumbled, his eyes downcast.

“Don’t say that!” She urged, placing her own hoof on his shoulder now.

“I say to you, my loyal subjects, that this brave unicorn was not alone in her endeavors, for there is one who personally faced the beast and fought it with fire of his own!” Twilight allowed the corner of her mouth to tug into a crooked smile as she watched Clegmane’s reaction.

His good eye widened for a moment before whispering to her, “I stand corrected.”

“You know of them, Seassaddle, these heroes who you seek!” Celestia was really playing it up now. “My faithful student, Twilight Sparkle. My loyal Captain, Sir Clegmane. Come forth and be recognized!”

Twilight urged herself to step forward into the welcoming cheers of the crowd. Clegmane followed suit. From above, pegasi dropped roses and streamers. Champaign bottles popped with well-shaken fervor, casting triumphant arcs across the sudden celebration of heroes. I should be used to fanfare by now, Twilight argued to herself as she took her lace next to Celestia. One would think that facing the Nightmare, returning the Princess of the Night, and outwitting the Discord would have prepared me for receptions such as this. I guess some ponies never get used to certain things. She glanced at Clegmane who stood rigidly next to her. His face had taken on its stonewalled hue once more. Would I ever get used to that injury, knowing how badly he’d been hurt? The Princess spoke on and over the cheering, “As requested by Mayor Coffee Bean and City Council, and by my own Royal Decree, I do hereby appoint, on this new day and henceforth, that Sir Clegmane the Steadfast—” Celestia glanced at the elder stallion with warmth in her eyes, and then to Twilight.

That’s a good name for him, thought Twilight: Clegmane the Steadfast pretty much sums him up nicely. I wonder what kind of honorific I could earn—

“And Lady Twilight the Magnanimous as Protectors of the City!”

Twilight the what? Magnanimous? Protector of the City?

A thunderstorm erupted in her head, yet all that Twilight Sparkle could manage say was, “Oh.”

IV - Twilight the Student, Sparkle the Educator
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Dutifully Yours

IV - Twilight the Student, Sparkle the Educator

Chapter IV: Twilight the Student, Sparkle the Educator

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“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Twilight gleefully hopped about her little circuit in the foyer. She did not realize that she was alone until she heard the loud shutting of the balcony doors above. At once, she stopped her bouncing and ended her mirth, replacing it with attentive silence. “Clegmane?” She wondered aloud. When did he get up there? She called to him again and he did not answer. Instead, she heard his heavy hooves slowly dragging across the hardwood above her. Tepidly, Twilight made toward the staircase and glanced up toward the second floor. There he is, Twilight sighed. She watched him slowly walk past her. His ears were drooped and his hind leg hesitated with each step. His lips were flat and that same leg trembled. Her curiosity replaced itself with concern. “Clegmane, what’s wrong?”

No reply. Twilight frowned.

“Clegmane, please. Talk to me!” Twilight winced at how desperate that sounded. He stopped and turned his head to look at her, but did not speak. She smiled weakly when he did, but lost it when she met his good eye. She could see that in the amber depths of that eye, there was naught but sadness, distance and… pain. The rings under his eyes only seemed heavier and far more noticeable than before. Quickly, she ascended the rest of the stairs and brought herself close to him. He did not move when she brought her nose to his. Her ears dropped sympathetically and her voice wavered. “What’s wrong?” She all but whispered. Clegmane gave a low grumble and looked away. He tried to continue his on his way down the hallway before him. Twilight raised a hoof across his chest. She felt his coat and the muscles that tensed beneath it. It lingered there, enough to gently stay him, though he did not look at her. She whispered, “Please! Tell me what’s bothering you? I want to help!” She could not stay the threat of looming tears. His distance was cutting her. I know he’s not trying to hurt me, she reasoned with herself. But, Sisters, I can’t stand to see him like this. She brought her hoof down and reached out to him with the other. She felt him lightly shudder but continued to look ahead as she ran it along his strong jaw line toward his chin. The small tuft of his beard tickled the frog of her hoof as she gently coaxed his visage to face hers. His amber eye met her set of deep lavender and she felt her chest flutter. He’s so close, her mind scrambled. Do you think he’ll—no! Focus, Twilight! He needs you… and not in that way! It was when she felt his cheek rub slightly against her hoof that her blood ran cold, her eyes widening. He closed his eye and inhaled. Her hoof froze in place for the whole second that he did this.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked his fellow Protector in the eye, saying, “Goodnight, Twilight.” With blinding speed, Clegmane leaned forward and softly placed his lips on the tip of Twilight’s nose, kissing it lightly. Twilight lowered her hoof as a wave of heat overtook her face. Clegmane’s lips tugged into one of his rare private smiles before he brushed past her and into the hallway toward his waiting room. This time, she did not stop him.

It was the soft clicking of his door, now closed, that snapped Twilight out of her stupor. The tip of her nose still tingled and she rubbed it with a shaking hoof. “Wow,” was all she could say. Her hooves carried her down that same hallway, two doors down and toward the left, a dim light fought the darkness beneath the threshold. Clegmane’s room. Twilight halted before it and merely stood. Never in all my years—which, granted, are relatively few compared to most—did I ever think that I could be standing outside his door, hesitating to knock. Her mind raced.

Should I knock?

What would I say if he answered?

What of he doesn’t answer?

What would I do if he let me in?

Would I let myself in?

What are you, crazy?

He’s only your fillyhood crush that you’ve kept hidden from everyone you’ve ever known, with the exception of maybe Spike or Celestia. Sisters know that you should look for someone… younger? More cheerful? She thought about his eye—whole? The smell of sweet onions pervaded the hallway. She ignited the torch spell that sprang from her horn. Her eyes began drifting to the nearby portrait of a young, beautiful white mare with green eyes and an onion cutie mark. Undamaged? She hated herself for thinking about that. Sadly, she withdrew into her own room across the hall from Clegmane’s.

With a force of will, every candle in the open space flickered to life, casting a warm glow about the room. Twilight relaxed her spell and her horn quenched its light. She cast a glance about her temporary living space: modest, clean—save the strewn notes and lecture material that she compiled for her syllabus. The class tomorrow… Twilight sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. A gust of wind intruded through the open window, blowing out some of the candles, but also lapping the tip of her nose, which ran cold where Clegmane had kissed her. She could not help but smile as she willed the window shut and relit the accosted candles. Quietly, she levitated the pile of notes and arrayed them according to priority and scheduled sequence. Before long, sleep had all but conquered Twilight as she struggled to keep her eyes open and her bed from seeming all the more comfortable. Alas, its welcoming sheets and plush pillows became all too enticing. Notes can wait until tomorrow, she argued. Sleep first, panic later. With a satisfied sigh, Twilight resigned herself to the bed’s warmth and extinguished the candles.

“Miss Sparkle…” the voice caught Twilight off guard. “Run.”

“Clegmane?” She asked, unsure of where his voice was coming from. It was dark, but overwhelmingly hot.

“Don’t tarry here, Twilight! Run!” Yes, it was Clegmane and his voice was coming from behind her. Quickly, she turned and immediately regretting in doing so.

His leg was torn, ripped open and flowing. His shield and spear were nowhere to be seen. Half of his armour, that beautiful gleaming carapace that she had once so admired, was twisted and broken. A deep gouge replaced the chest plate and Twilight could see that he was not breathing well. From beneath his golden helm, she could see the fire in his amber eye, the other being veiled by the patch. He was staring hard at her, a frown upon his lips. All else was darkness. Suddenly, the sky behind him erupted into a shower of blue and red fire, falling from parts unknown. Twilight shrank before the display, but Clegmane did not. His gaze was still affixed upon her as the fire fell behind him. The heat grew as a distant shadow approached. She could not fully perceive it, but she knew, somehow, that it was heading malevolently toward them.

“Damn it, Twilight! I said run!” Clegmane urged with a backward glance toward that same menacing presence.

“What about you?” She begged.

“We both knew this was a one-way trip for me, remember?” He smiled softly at her.

“No… No! No, I didn’t! When did we discuss that?” She screamed at him.

“No time, Twilight. I’m sorry it has to be this way…” he said as sadness overtook his hardness. “I can at least buy you some time.”

“But—”

“Run. NOW!” She ran. She ran away from Clegmane as the shadow bore down upon him. She ran away. She knew not where, but she ran as fast as her hooves could carry her. The scream, guttural and warlike shook her very bones.

It was the screaming that woke her up. It was the screaming that forced Twilight from her bed, into the hallway and to Clegmane’s door. Her heart pounded in her throat, her ears rang, but the screams were still just as horrible. And they only got louder, more pained.

“Clegmane!” Twilight shouted, though the screams continued. “Clegmane! Can you hear me?” No answer. “I’m coming in!” She then lined her horn up with the doorway and charged it. The blast threw the door free from its hinges and back into the dark room. Twilight ran in and her eyes turned to the bed. Beneath the covers, thrashing and writhing was Clegmane, his patch removed and both eyes wide with agony. These screams were not of fear, but of pain. “Clegmane!” screamed Twilight as she ran to his side. She placed a shaking hoof upon his brow.

Electricity shot through her then. From her hoof to her brain, the sharp sensation overcame her and a searing pain gnawed at her hind leg, as if a talon was running through it, slowly and without mercy.

That was not the worst of it, for a dark voice, dripping with malice rang through her mind.

I have left my mark upon you, valiant pony;

One who defied the might of my kin.

Your blood by my claws serves only—

—to grant me privilege to your agony!

None may defy the Will of Kàndelthylt

and live to see peace again!

Tears formed in Twilight’s eyes as the voice continued to torment. Was this the dragon? She wondered through clenched teeth. How can he do this? I’ve never known dragons to use telepathy before.

That is because, Twilight Sparkle, there are few that can truly understand the nature of the dragon, save that this dragon is unnatural.

Who—Twilight recognized that voice. It was soft, caring and yet, majestic and wise beyond years. The moon shone all the brighter and the gentle voice spoke once more:

Thou art mistaken, Lord Wyrm, outcast—faithless!

“Princess Luna?” Twilight shakily whispered, her tears clouding her vision. She listened as the voice of this… Kàndelthyltresponded:

The Ruler of Night? The player of foul

tricks when you and your sister cannot

break the back of our siege?

Aye, and those tricks hath cost thee thine war, O Ambitious One! mocked Luna. Thou canst not hope to achieve the greatness of thine Lord and High Clan Royum through these petty means! Begone with thee and leave the honourable to their most deservéd peace!

Nay shall I leave thee and thine at peace,

so long as you breathe free air,

my campaign shall not see rest!

It is pitiable how fervently thou believest in thine rights to vengeance, Lord Wyrm. It shall be thine undoing. Release my little ponies of thine blood agony or feel the chill of mine sacred Night!

Peace has died, sovereign pony.

Your seaside city shall be

the first to announce it.

When my breath returns.

Regardless, thine torment ends now. Face thine challenges directly, coward, for I shall not allow this to persist. Not in mine realm.

At once, the pain ended. Twilight collapsed and Clegmane settled into an easy slumber. She blinked once, twice, and then noticed that the room had changed. For, a tall, dark and beautiful presence had overtaken it. Long, slender legs supported the lithe frame. An ever-billowing starscape mane framed a narrow visage with luminous blue eyes.

“Princess Luna!” Twilight stood up. With wobbly legs, she ran toward the Princess of the Night and wrapped her forehooves around Luna’s long neck. The sovereign did not appear all to comfortable with the unexpected contact, but Twilight smiled all the same. “Thank you! Thank you! You saved him!” She cast a worried glance over to the gentle rise and fall of Clegmane’s chest.

Luna nodded and said, “It is only temporary, Twilight Sparkle. I was not expecting this particular dragon to be this… problematic.”

Is she speaking in commons? Twilight tilted her head and asked, “How come, Princess?”

“This dragon—Kàndelthylt—is unusual as far as dragons are concerned.”

“May I ask why, Princess? Ponies know so little about dragons as it is!” Twilight asked.

“Indeed,” Luna nodded. “Even my Sister and I have had limited experiences, though the dragons we did meet over a thousand years ago were far unlike the dragons we know today. This black-scaled dragon was not among them. He is from elsewhere and the only one I’ve ever seen that can form blood connections.”

“Blood connections?” Twilight wondered. Her legs felt all the weaker at the thought of blood. It is an internal fluid for a reason! It’s meant to remain internal!

“Yes,” Luna confirmed as she walked toward the sleeping Clegmane. “I have only ever read of it myself, but the evidence is clear, judging by the nature of Sir Clegmane’s wound and the pain you felt in your own leg, even though you did not suffer the same injury.”

Wait, what? “Princess, how did you—”

“Know?” Luna allowed a grin to tug at the corner of her mouth. “Because when I enter a pony’s dreams, I can feel what they feel, even if it is indirect.”

“So that means…” Twilight trailed off, disturbed by the thought.

“You are correct, Twilight Sparkle. I can feel the pain, anger, joy… pleasure of other ponies when they dream, which is why it is my duty to aide them whenever possible. It is an endless task for an endless life.” Luna almost sounded bitter, though Twilight felt she knew better than to question it.

“Do we know of any other dragons or creatures that can perform this kind of magic?” Asked Twilight, trying to remain on-task.

“Not unless it emerged from the chaotic depths of Tartarus itself,” was Luna’s reply.

“Is that where you think Kàndelthylt is from?”

“It is quite possible, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna sighed, “There is no way that he is a part of the Royumi Clan. Why they would allow the likes of Kàndelthylt in their ranks certainly raises questions in my mind.” Luna glowered.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Princess… may I ask why you know so much about Spike’s family clan, yet knowledge on dragons is so limited?”

Luna hesitated for a moment, but then straightened up, saying, “I think it is best that both my sister and I explain that story another day, suffice to say that Clan Royum are a unique spectacle amongst dragons. They are far from the dangerous, selfish hoarders that we know them as today. Spike has an incredible lineage that redefines what we ought to know about dragons.”

Great, huffed Twilight. Now I’m even more interested. But, the look on Luna’s face convinced her to drop the subject entirely. Both of them then looked down to Clegmane, still peaceful in his sleeping. Gently, she levitated his eyepatch and slid it back onto his face, covering the wound.

After a long moment, Luna spoke, “For his age, he is quite handsome.” Twilight blushed as Luna continued, “But, from this angle, however, he is positively adorable.” Twilight tried to stifle the unexpected giggle that rose up her throat.

“I can see why you adore him, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna declared.

Twilight’s veins turned to ice and the butterflies took flight. “Is—is it really that obvious?” Luna smiled and winked.

“Stand by him,” said Luna. “You may find that he will see you in due time. Good night, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna slowly began to turn and walk away toward the window.

“Wait, Princess!”

“It’ll be time to wake up soon. No need to keep the class waiting.”

“Princess Luna!”

“Time to wake up now, Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight opened her eyes and Luna was gone, replaced instead by the rays of the rising sun. She yawned loudly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She was then able see clearly as her vision slid into focus. Strange, she thought. I could have sworn my window was on the left. She glanced down to the floor and saw that the door rested upon it whereas the hallway was now visible through the threshold. This isn’t my room. A stirring to her left caught her attention and Twilight gasped as Clegmane’s tussled mane and peacefully smiling face emerged from beneath the covers, still happily breathing away. Twilight narrowed her eyes at the window. Princess Luna… she found herself crossing the line between angrily grinding her teeth and joyfully hugging the Night Princess once more. Now to slowly get out of here and fix that door so he can be none the wiser. She exchanged glances between Clegmane and the door, but found her gaze lingering on the former captain for much longer. Maybe if I—No! None of that! Shame on you! Twilight scolded herself before sliding quietly out of Clegmane’s bed and took one last look at him laying there, so peacefully unaware of the young mare that had spent the night with him. Mostly due to the mischief of a certain Moonbearer, but that is beyond the point, Twilight shrugged.

Okay, just one kiss, if only to pay him back for that little peck on the nose. Twilight steeled herself and bent low, closing her eyes, squeezing her unpracticed lips together and bringing her face nearer to his. Just a little closer and I can finally—

“Hello! Is anyone home?” A familiar, masculine voice called from downstairs. Twilight’s eyes shot open to too see a shimmering pool of amber staring right back.

“Er, um. Good morning, sleepyhead!” Twilight stammered as she slowly inched her reddening face away from Clegmane’s own, nigh unreadable.

“Up here, Gen D’Arme,” called Clegmane as Twilight backed away, nearly stumbling over the fallen door. Clegmane lifted his head and noticed that the noise Twilight produced was none other than his bedroom door laying flat on the floor, blown clearly off its hinges from the threshold. It was through that threshold that the young, smiling face of Gen D’Arme shifted from jubilant to shock, then awe. The colt, suited in his freshly polished armour, helm levitated at his side, traded glances with Twilight, Clegmane and the broken door.

He blinked twice, then asked, “Am I interrupting?”

“No, private,” responded Clegmane.

“Yes,” mumbled Twilight under her breath.

“Okay,” shrugged Gen D’Arme. “I’ve come to inform both of you, whatever circumstances you may find yourselves in, that The Royal Pony Sisters shall be expecting you within the next few hours at the Seasaddle Pintocific University collegiate off Nickerson Street.”

“Nickerson,” repeated Clegmane.

“Got it,” confirmed Twilight.

“And I am to escort both of you there,” Gen D’Arme finished.

“Thank you, Gene. We’ll be right down.” Twilight offered a flushed smile before quickly slipping through the door, brushing past the younger guardspony, and disappearing into her room to gather her things.

The longest, most awkwardly silent promenade in Twilight’s life existed as the journey from the Downs toward the collegiate where her new institution waited. The only one who spoke was Gene, being conversational, or at least attempting to be. Clegmane was not one to answer, though Twilight tried her best.

“So, it turns out, sir, that I am going to be your assistant for the physical training.”

“I requested no assistance.” Clegmane stated firmly. Twilight gave him a hard glance and could see that Gene was visibly hurt by the response.

“Clegmane, Gene helped you with the dragon! His experience is at least worth consideration.” Gene offered a thankful smile, which Twilight returned.

“I’m not entirely sure if he can handle training a bunch of greenhorns, let alone advanced spell-wielders who were not meant to be soldiers.” Clegmane huffed.

“Um, I’m right here, sir…” Gene frowned again.

“Did I say otherwise?”

“No sir.”

Twilight halted and said, angrily, “Sir Clegmane the Steadfast, Gen D’Arme has been assigned to you for the physical training part of my institution, so you will accept his help or we shall have words with the Princess!” Clegmane halted, but did not look back to Twilight.

“Miss Sparkle,” grumbled Clegmane, “I appreciate your concern for Gen D’Arme’s assignment and your appraisal of his combat skills, but—”

“But nothing! You are accepting his help.”

“Miss—”

“As the Fancy say: pointe finale!” And that was that. Twilight brushed past both stallions. What a stubborn ass… no offense to mules. Ugh! Why do I even bother!

All three rounded the next corner and had arrived before the collegiate building. There, Celestia awaited and greeted them. “Welcome, Twilight!”

“It’s good to see you again, Princess!” Twilight gleefully embraced her mentor.

“It’s good to see you too, my faithful student. Greetings to you too, Captain. And you, brave Gen D’Arme.”

“Ma’am!” Both stallions bowed low, though Twilight noticed that Clegmane had a little trouble with his hind leg again.

The Princess returned her attention to Twilight. “Are you ready for today?”

“I’m not sure,” mumbled the unicorn as she rubbed a free hoof against the strap of her saddlebag. It was heavy with notes and the contents of her syllabus.

“Just breathe easily,” whispered Celestia. Twilight huffed and puffed, forcing air in and out of her lungs. A gentle hoof came to rest upon her shaking shoulder and the unicorn turned to look at who had placed it there. It was Clegmane, who actually smiled from behind heavy eyelids.

“Yes, Princess.” Twilight straightened her posture and faced the heavy wooden doors of the collegiate. “I can do this! For Seasaddle and for the future of Equestia!”

With a magical flare, she forced the doors open and stepped into cavernous halls of her new institution. Oh, this is so exciting, Twilight thought to herself. My very own class! Then, she slowly came to realize that the halls were bare. But, that’s perhaps because the classes did not start until noon. That has to be it, she reasoned. But, just to be sure… the first page of the syllabus flew out of her loosened saddlebag and her violet eyes poured over the document. Yes, there it is! Introduction to Magical Theory—twelve PM until two, room 101—simple enough, easy to transition into practical magics. Where are we now?

“Good afternoon. I am Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight announced to the floor. No, doesn’t sound official enough.

Room 95

Okay, keep walking. Should I have left out the Starswirl Alchemy manifesto? “Salutations, class. My name is Twilight Sparkle.” No, to formal.

Room 96

No, they don’t need to know alchemy… “Hello, everyone! Call me Twilight Sparkle!” Okay—too informal.

Room 97

…this is fire-resistant magic, not fire-enhancing magic!

Room 98

Although a basic understanding of the concepts behind enhanced fire could serve to benefit their collective trains of thought. “Good afternoon. I am Twilight Sparkle.”

Room 99

Did I bring enough syllabi? Is it comprehensive enough? “Good afternoon. I am Twilight Sparkle.”

Room 100

Will my teaching methods be effective? Ah! I was prepared for this, wasn’t I! “Good bloody afternoon. I am Twilight bloody Sparkle!”

Room 101

Twilight gulped, for she now stood frozen before the main entrance to the auditorium. She glanced toward the hallway clock, which ticked at 11:30 in the morning. She was half an hour early for her class, which she figured would give her ample time to prepare and gather her thoughts in order to best instr—oh, Sisters, half of them are already here. Time to panic! Oh no, oh no, oh no!

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Gen D’arme said, “We’re right behind you, all the way.” Twilight had almost completely forgotten about the pair of warriors that were helping her for the next few weeks, who had stridden so quietly behind her this entire time.

“Thanks, Gene.” Twilight sighed and closed her eyes and took more deep breaths. She felt Clegmane’s presence near her then.

“Look them in the eye, Miss Sparkle,” whispered the elder warrior. “They will respect you.” She glanced up at him, looking into his sole remaining eye and saw a strange softness in it. He meant what he said. Twilight nodded dutifully and magically opened the door. Twenty unicorns turned to look in her direction, each seated in a mosaic of many coloured coats and shining, eager eyes. The classroom auditorium could seat at least sixty ponies. How did all these students get selected, anyway? I guess it doesn’t matter, since I trust the Princess’ judgments. Like I have a choice.

Despite her students tracking her ever move, Twilight strode confidently toward her waiting desk. Inwardly, she giggled, my own desk! How exciting! With a twist of her will, the saddlebags were levitated free of her back and placed firmly onto the bare desktop. As soon as Twilight relinquished her hold on the bags, however, they promptly fell over, spilling their weighty contents all about the floor. A deep, embarrassed frown overtook Twilight’s face as she scampered about to gather her fleeing syllabi amidst the giggles of her attentive students. Thank Celestia for staplers! Twilight’s mind echoed as she levitated package after package, arranging them into cohesive piles. Still, several lay strewn. That was until they were caught up in a soft blue aura, lifted from the ground and stacked neatly upon the pre-formed piles. That same blue aura then produced a large ripe and shining apple, much like those of Apple Family fare, from a nearby saddlebag. Twilight accepted the apple, then looked for the one responsible.

Standing before her was a young pale orange unicorn mare, not much younger than Twilight herself. Her mane was a luminous indigo and her eyes, a sharp icy blue. She wore a small, shy smile and her blue aura vanished. Without a word, she simply nodded, then turned about, returning to her seat near the front of the class.

“Th-thank you!” stuttered Twilight with a grateful grin.

“Hazel Drift,” replied the orange mare. “And, no thanks required, Professor. If anything, we all owe you a debt of thanks.”

“Well, it wasn’t entirely me,” said Twilight with a soft shuffling of her hooves. “Sir Clegmane and Gene-er-Gen D’arme had a large part to play in that as well.”

“Yeah!” interrupted another student, a white-coated stallion in the middle row. “I heard that Sir Clegmane gouged that wyrm a hundred times!”

“No, dummy, it was obviously over a thousand!” the purple stallion next to him argued.

“Nuh-uh!” retorted the first. “My dad saw it, bro. He saw the whole thing.”

“Hard to watch something when you’re running for your life.”

“Hey!”

The orange mare simply rolled her eyes and Twilight bit her lip. Great, now what? The argument became more and more heated until Twilight hatched a plan.

“Alright, you two: zip it up!” With a flash of her horn, Twilight replaced the two stallions’ lips with zippers, which were swiftly closed and locked.

“Ooh!” The remainder of the class stared in awe at the spell. Twilight allowed a grin to tug at the corner of her lips. Cocky? Maybe. Effective? Undoubtedly.

“I’m sure Sir Clegmane will be more than willing to answer all of your questions when you begin your physical training with him this evening. If you get the chance to ask him, however. Until then, you are here to learn and ask questions relevant to the subject matter. Do I make myself clear?” Hurried nods were her reply.

“Good!” said Twilight cheekily as she snapped the air with the charge of her horn and dissolved the zippers of the once unruly stallions.

The time neared noon and the class had near filled to capacity. Twilight’s heart beat all the more as the seconds that swiftly passed. When the hands became aligned, nearly sixty students of all colours and sizes, mares and stallions sat, chatting idly amongst themselves. Most awaited their new professor’s direction. When the final seconds ticked by, it came.

With a deep, steadying breath, Twilight stepped forward with sixty pairs of eyes following her every tepid step. She cleared her throat.

“Good afternoon. I am Twilight Sparkle and today, we begin our classes on theoretical and practical magics. The uses of this magic will pertain specifically to the quenching of enchanted fires and dealings with mystical and powerful beasts—specifically, dragons.”

Magical Theory had passed by without much incident, Twilight concluded. Although, she could have sworn that the material seemed a little too easy for her students who began to doze off after the first hour. Did they already have a strong base or did they need a little motivation? Motivation, she decided, was the best medicine. At that, Twilight decided to end the foundational class forty-five minutes early—crassly overlooking Sections 27 through 68 and lead straight into procurement magic, specifically, water forming. That break in the schedule allowed the students to stretch, relax and process all they had learned. Many also took this opportunity to eat and restore their energy. Then, it was back to the books, for they were to look at water.

Hydrodynamics were not a field entirely unfamiliar to Twilight, but the mustering of the moisture in the air to form a pool of water seemed all the motivation the class needed in order to wake up and participate. They had actually impressed her with their eagerness o learn and strive. That helpful pale orange mare, Hazel Drift, had been particularly impressive in her ability to harness the moisture, though nearly all of her students had grasped it by class’s end. As a project, Twilight had devised for the students to pair up and grab a bucket from the stack that she had arranged outside in the collegiate courtyard. Each pair was to study the contents of their literature assigned and help one another to fill their buckets with conjured water by the conclusion of the next class.

It was nearly five o’clock by the time the last bucket was replaced. The encroaching evening cast a chilling wind that swept Twilight’s mane aside. She turned to see her students standing, waiting for her final dismissal. Their eyes remained bright, despite the volumes of information and the drain that magical casting often took upon unicorns. Many of them smiled, eagerly waiting for me. A few chatted and laughed amongst themselves. They seemed pleased, and indeed, Twilight was pleased with them. But, would it be enough? Will any of this be enough if Kàndelthylt returns?

Kàndelthylt…. Twilight shuddered. Despite what their city had endured at the claws of that dark drake, the youth of Seasaddle and their spirit had persevered. She dreaded to see that spirit broken under the dragon’s vengeful blaze.

“Kàndelthylt.” Twilight Sparkle declared amid the blowing breeze. Her statement was met with looks, both intrigued and perplexed.

“That is the name of the dragon: Kàndelthylt.”

Hazel Drift stepped forward, asking, “Professor Sparkle, how do you know this?”

Twilight sighed. “He has struck out against Equestria before, but was denied. He made himself known to us last night and he intends revenge.” Uncertain clamour rose amongst the crowd of students.

“The wyrm will be back? So soon?” Cried a student.

“The horror! The horror!” shouted another. Twilight tried to speak over the rising panic, but alas, could not.

“Quiet down. NOW!” A powerful voice echoed across the courtyard. Twilight glanced back and saw the form of Clegmane, clad in his armour and his eye blazing as he approached them all. Hushed talk and awe now replaced the deportment of Twilight’s class. Clegmane came to a stop next to Twilight. Gen D’arme then appeared and stood next to Clegmane. He too, was clad in his guardspony armour, though his expression was dour as he scanned each student carefully. Regardless, the students were silent and their discomfort stayed, if only for the moment.

“Thank you, Clegmane,” Twilight whispered. Clegmane said nothing, but kept his gaze hard upon the crowd. Twilight faced them once more and continued, saying, “Like I said, the dragon’s name is Kàndelthylt and yes, we expect him to return soon, though we pray that it’s not too soon.” Twilight stepped forward, sweeping her gaze across her class. “But, we can become prepared for his fire this time. What progress we’ve made today is remarkable and again, I say that I’m proud of all of you. Though, there is still a lot of work to be done, we must always keep in mind what the goals of this institution are: Educate and Protect. Water is our protection and water will always best fire—the oceans are far larger than any dragon we may ever face. Just know that if and when Kàndelthylt returns, his fire may rob the air of its moisture. Still, that should not stop us from trying, right?”

Murmurs and light nods were met her. Twilight was not entire sure of their convictions.

“We have all felt that heat, that oppressive smoke, that unquenchable fire. Yet, here we stand, alive and well, free of that smoke and witnesses to just how quenchable that fire really is.”

The murmurs grew, approving and enthusiastic.

Twilight continued, “Teach what you’ve learned here to your loved ones. Have them teach each other. Because, when that dragon comes back and this starts—” Twilight ignited her horn and set a nearby shrub on fire. It withered and cackled beneath the licking flames. All sixty students watched Twilight and saw the fire dance in their pupils. “—Each other is all we’re going to have. So be resourceful; know that there are other sources of water beyond the moisture in the air and the nearby ocean.”

The students nodded, their panic waylaid and eye focused on the burning bush. With a quick conjuration, Twilight gathered water and ice into the air before her and wrapped them both securely about the shrub. With a light hiss, the fire was out and the shrub mostly saved.

“Class dismissed,” said Twilight, finally.

The sun was setting in the midsummer sky while the steam from the suffocated fire rose to meet it. Twilight turned to Clegmane. With a grin, she winked and said, “All yours, big guy.” As she walked away, Twilight shook her head. What a terrible flirt you are. Maybe Rainbow Dash is right, I am too much of a bookworm. Her reverie was short lived, however, when she heard Clegmane’s ironclad hooves march into position before the mingling students. To her surprise, it was not Clegmane that began, but rather, Gene.

“Alright, recruits, form up!” barked the young stallion. The startled students eyed both him and the silent Clegmane and nervously shuffled about. Gen D’arme ground his teeth and barked once more, “I said move!” A pale blue flash of his horn and suddenly, the students found them bunched together, then forcibly positioned in a grid-like formation of six columns and ten. Wide-eyed and stricken with fear, the students could not, or would not speak. Twilight watched as Gene then paced about the first row of rigid, shaking stallions and mares, their eyes following him. This appeared to have displeased him as he lashed out at them once more.

“Do not eyeball me, recruits. I am not Professor Sparkle and I am not going to be as fair as she is. Keep your eyes forward until I say so. If not, then prepare to drop down and give me twenty!” Twilight could not tell if any of her students did actually break his rule, but it did not matter, for all sixty of them dropped to the ground on Gene’s order and gave him exactly what he wanted: twenty push-ups. Eventually. Part of Twilight wanted to run forward and reprimand Gen D’arme for his harsh treatment and how he could even fathom being so cruel, but a firm glance from silent Clegmane told her otherwise.

Okay, calm down, Twilight. He knows what he’s doing. Clegmane didn’t barge in on your lectures, don’t bother him in his. Still, she thought, this is a heavy lecture. Her students groaned and huffed as another twenty push-ups were ordered. Before long, Twilight found herself watching as Gen D’arme marched his new company of would-be soldiers about the courtyard in perfect formation. She had to admit, she was impressed. After thirty minutes of exertion and constant yelling, Gen D’arme relaxed a touch and said, “My name is Gen D’arme, guard of Canterlot and assistant to the Protectors of Seasaddle. You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Protector Sparkle the Magnanimous and now I will formally introduce you to her fellow Protector—one who undoubtedly is not as easily impressed as I am, and I most assuredly am surely not—Sir Clegmane the Steadfast.”

Clegmane stepped forward and all eyes became fixed on him. Twilight watched as he walked up the front row of heavily breathing, fatigued youth. They dared not follow him with their eyes. Those who dared, corrected this when his cold amber stare met theirs. Twilight watched as his hind left, she freshly scarred, hesitated with each step. Am I the only one seeing this? His injury isn’t that obvious, is it? Clegmane wheeled around slowly and made his way to the centre of the platoon’s field of view. He waited in front of them for a long moment, not saying a word. Twilight saw how her students began to sway, with sweat dripping from their heavy brows. Many knees wobbled, either out of the cold, the fear or the exhaustion, maybe a combination of all three. Regardless, they dared not move more than that, for she was sure that the large Clegmane, to them, was far more intimidating than any dragon. He seemed pleased with their fear.

At last, he took a deep inhale through his nose and spoke, saying, “Smell that?” Twilight sniffed the air and caught a whiff of the steam that she produced from the quenched fire. “Does that smell familiar?” His good eye raked along the trembling ranks. “That is the smell that follows a dragon’s passing: burning wood and scorched earth. The smell of a dragon, however, is far worse. It is a putrid stench that can clear your stomach with one sniff and knock you over in two. The only thing that can make it go away is the smell of burning things around you, no matter how foul, they cannot match the stink of a wyrm.”

“In a blaze, you will find your energy sapped, just as it is now. Your body will sweat until it thirsts and then will not hesitate to dry you up entirely in an attempt to quench that thirst. As unicorns, we are gifted with peripheral telekinesis: we can carry many things: Spears, shields, water, gear. These are what you will learn to use and carry. Sergeant Gen D’arme and I are from the Royal Guard, where the most important pony is the one beside you in order to fulfill your duty and protect the Princesses. Here in Seasaddle, there is no difference. Now, for some reason, you lot have been chosen by the powers that be to act as one to defend this city against the wyrm, this Kàndelthylt. I have been charged with training you to prepare physically for the encounter. Sergeant Gen D’arme and I, as you know, have survived the previous encounter and have been requested to pass that knowledge and skill on to you. The Sergeant is in charge of your calisthenics and fitness—he answers to me and me alone. I am in charge of combat skills: I will teach you to fight, to survive and to win. Nothing less will do.” Clegmane’s eyes swept across the students’ faces as he tightened his jaw.

“Now I hope you enjoyed this little introduction to the weeks ahead, because the Sergeant and I, we’re going to love it!”

A rarity of a smile dared trace itself across Clegmane’s face, though Twilight could feel no worth emanating from it. The Steadfast was back in his element again and he was not complaining one bit. Stifling a hollow chuckle, only one thought crossed her mind as Gene ordered her students to the ground once more.

This is going to mess with their study schedules.

Author's Note

Here it is, at long last!
I've had to divide this chapter in two and re-write the other in Clegmane's perspective.

I am holding off on posting the beginnings of Book 2, with Spike and Applejack, as I wish to see where tomorrow's episode will go in regards to certain members of a certain apple-based family.

And yes, the rhyming dragonspeak is inspired by Smaug the Golden.

V - The Steadfast Spear, The Foul Wind
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Dutifully Yours

V - The Steadfast Spear, The Foul Wind

Chapter V: The Steadfast Spear, The Foul Wind

The fate of all is carried upon

The hallowed winds of fortune

And rests dutifully upon the tip

Of the spear, which was thrust

Into the breast of opposition.

- - -

\--------------------

Clegmane had to admit that he was impressed. These students, these greenhorns that recruitment may have lifted their fickle noses to, had survived the two hours of grueling physical training that he and Gen D’arme had put them through tonight. Not only did they commit to the commands that the sergeant barked, but did so without so much as a whimper of complaint. Sure, they may moan and gripe after we dismiss them, Clegmane considered, but that’s only natural. He sniffed and watched as they completed the final lap of their march with Gen D’arme in close pursuit, eyeing them all carefully for mistakes. As the young sergeant marched about the tightly packed corral of students, Clegmane could not help but also be impressed by the way Gen D’arme handled the calisthenics and adjudication portions of training. He was a good help in a pinch, which allowed Clegmane to focus primarily on the applications of force and the dealings of death. But, that would have to wait until tomorrow, when they were fresh.

Well, he conceded, fresher.

“Platoon, Halt!” Gen D’arme’s voice carried over the evening air and echoed across the four outer walls which ringed the courtyard. As one, all sixty students stomped to a half. Clegmane watched their chests heave, their brows drip and their eyes sink with fatigue. He smiled and stepped forward. No eyes followed him, which was good, for he did not wish for them to see the subtle grin be bore.

“Well done, recruits,” commended Clegmane with his loud voice. “You have survived in two hours what most guards endure over several weeks.” The students broke their silent stoicism to smile, laugh and blunder their way into another twenty push-ups by Gen D’arme. When they had finished, many could not rise, at least not for the first five minutes. Still, Clegmane waited until every one of his recruits had risen before speaking once again. “Despite these accomplishments, Lady Sparkle and I still require much more of you—there remains our combat training tomorrow evening. Get food and sleep in abundance tonight, for you cannot function without both, so do not neglect either one.” He turned and walked away from the group. “Dismiss them, Sergeant.”

“Platoon: Dismissed! See you here tomorrow evening.” A series of groans, barely held back escaped the throats of a few students—the rest were wise and kept silent as they shuffled out and away from their tormentors. Their day was over.

Clegmane bade farewell to Gen D’arme and opened the doors leading to Twilight’s classroom. With each step, he felt a grinding of bone and sinew, followed by a brief shooting of pain deep through his muscles. He ignored the protest his body was staging. He just wanted out of this building and back to his house, to water his onions and rediscover his bed. I have to fix that door when I get back, he thought.

“Done already, Captain?” Twilight’s voice carried behind Clegmane, causing him to start. He began hoping that she did not see that pathetic display. Another part of him was simply… relieved to see her. Relieved? That can’t be right. Pleased, sure. I guess. Clegmane resisted the urge to shake his head. The pain shot through his leg once more as he turned to face Twilight fully. The jest in her eyes, as far as he could tell, faded into what resembled concern. Oh no, he thought, she noticed. Just answer the question, ass!

“Yes. And please, Miss Sparkle, I’ll thank you not to call me captain.”

“If you say so, Sir Clegmane,” Twilight rolled her eyes.

Did she seriously just do that? Clegmane narrowed his own eyes. “And what does that mean?”

“It means that you sure do have a way with ponies, Clegmane. Gene must have really wanted to help you if he just did two whole hours of… that!”

“Two whole hours of what, praytell?” he asked.

“I would call it ‘overdoing it’, but you seem pretty happy just calling it basic training.” Twilight snickered as she brushed past him.

These hallways are large enough to fit a carriage through, Clegmane thought. Was that necessary? “If I may remind you, Miss Sparkle, that a dragon will be all too pleased to simply ‘overdo it’ when he arrives.”

Twilight walked into her amphitheater of a classroom and headed straight for her desk, piling her notes into her waiting saddlebag. Slowly, it filled and became quite visibly heavy. Is she leaving with more papers than she brought in? He wondered. I’ve never seen such a lithe frame carry so much.

I wonder how much more it can car—No! Dirty old stallion. You’re done.

She isn’t. Not even close, bru.

We’re not in South Zebrika anymore, self. Cut it out!

Bru, she’s talking!

“Are you alright, Clegmane?” Twilight asked, cocking her head to one side.

“Y-yes, Miss Sparkle. Just pondering my service in South Zebrika, is all.”

He saw her face then turn from curiosity to invested curiosity. “South Zebrika? I would love to visit South Zebrika someday! I read a book on South Zebrika once and I admit that it did make me feel rather nostalgic. Of what, I can’t remember, but it’s not like that matters.”

Clegmane simply looked at her. His Younger Self prodded. Mares only ramble when they’re interested, bru.

Not so, Young Self, now please vanish back to the obscure void from whence you came! Your sudden presence is jarring and unwelcome.

Fine! screamed his Younger Self. You’re only young once, bru and I thought I’d come along and stir up the hormones a bit to make you see what’s in front of your eyes. Maybe feel younger again, too.

Not necessary. Now leave me in peace.

Yeah, peace—like you’ve been feeling that since she stumbled back into your life. The Younger Self was gone and Clegmane was all to happy too frown again. I need a drink.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Clegmane?” asked Twilight again. “I thought I saw my students groveling in the dirt, not you—no reason to be exhausted, is there?”

“Do I look the part?” Clegmane slowly asked.

“Very much so,” Twilight nodded. “Be careful and save some of your cruelty for the dragon, perhaps?”

Clegmane’s frown deepened. “Cruelty? You call basic calisthenics and marching a cruelty?”

“Yes, Clegmane,” replied Twilight taking a step closer to him. “They are not soldiers. You can’t push them too hard, or else they’ll fall short of their study goals.”

“I was tasked with making a militia to defend Seasaddle, not lecture it.” Clegmane muttered evenly.

Twilight set a hard gaze upon him. “I will not have my students suffer failure and become too worn out to even cast their spells.”

Worn out, eh?

Twilight continued, “Furthermore, I will not have them pushed so hard that they may injure themselves, then they will become a liability rather than the ponies this city can depend on!”

Injuries and dependency, eh? “Twilight, what’s this really about?” Clegmane now took a step forward.

Twilight blustered. “Excuse me? It’s about our students and did you just call me—”

“Oh, it’s our students now? Worn out? Injured? Dependant?” Clegmane took another step forward. He saw that Twilight’s face was flushed, but all the same did not move. “Are we talking about the same body of students or one worn out, injured and questionably dependable body in particular?” He stepped even closer to the little purple mare in his sight. She still held her ground, though her breath became heavy. His eye may have been gone, but Clegmane’s ears functioned at their peak. “What aren’t you telling me, Twilight? Are you really worried that your students—my recruits—will turn into withered, useless old warhorses like me?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant at all!”

“Is it?” He pressed, getting closer.

“S-speaking of injuries, Clegmane,” Twilight motioned to his hind leg, though his gaze never left her.

“I can handle it.” Clegmane said, dismissively.

“But, still, I worry.”

“About me? Why?”

“Y-yes. I care about you.” Twilight’s purple cheeks flushed a deeper magenta. “I woudn’t be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you, dragon or no dragon.”

“You mean if I were to—”

“Please don’t say it,” she pleaded.

Clegmane sighed heavily and stepped back from Twilight. Without thinking, he placed a gentle hoof upon her cheek and said, “Everyone dies, Twilight, save the Ageless. Not everyone truly lives.”

Twilight hesitated. Clegmane could see the conflict in her wandering lavender eyes. She really does have beautiful eyes, he conceded. Slowly, she raised her hoof and takes it away from her cheek, but still kept it within her grasp. “Even for all her years, Princess Luna still has much to live for—she’s been given another chance at life, to see its beauty rather than the shadows that veil it from time to time.”

“I fail to see what Princess Luna has to do with your concern for me, though I also feel like I am not bedding the right questions.” Clegmane gave her a look that even he could not fully understand. Might as well cut to the chase if she doesn’t get it, clever as she is. Speaking of, I wonder if there is a spell to reinforce my door. After a moment of considering who it was he would be reinforcing his door against, the motion was defeated in Clegmane’s superior cognitive court.

In the mean time, if any pony could strive to flush as deep as possible, Twilight Sparkle rose to the challenge and succeeded marvelously. “Um, I can explain this morning….”

“Please do,” he granted, though he had to admit that he was almost enjoying this little conversation, if only to watch her squirm. Does that make me a bad guy?

“I had a dream,” she admitted, looking away.

Oh boy… Clegmane ground his teeth and prepared for… something.

“It was a terrifying dream,” she added.

I’m not sure how to feel about that, actually. His good eye narrowed.

“You were alone, bleeding, but fighting against some formless black menace.”

Okay, not as bad as that could have been. He sighed.

“I think it was the dragon… Kàndelthylt. He was going to kill you. And I ran away. I hated myself for running away, but I did it because you told me to.”

Silence passed uncomfortably between them. Clegmane shifted his sore hooves, but maintained eye contact. Her eyes were pleading. He saw that they were searching. For some kind of reaction perhaps? He did not know. Still, she had a dream the previous night, it seems that the dragon was overwhelming her as well, occupying every fibre of her. Then why, he wondered, was she always trying to get so close if that was the case? What did Princess Luna have in mind...? How deeply does Twilight care for me? It would never be that obvious, could it?

He asked, “A bad dream. Is that why you think my bed seemed too big?”

Her lavender eyes shot wide open and she stammered, saying, “Wh-what! I do not think that! I was just—”

“Making sure I was safe? All night?” He prodded.

“You were screaming and—”

“That explains the broken door.” Clegmane grumbled.

“Yes, and I apologized for that. Now will you let me—”

“I’m a grown stallion, Twilight Sparkle! I can take care of myself!” barked Clegmane, harsher than he intended, for she recoiled. Then, to his surprise, he saw a fire light in her eyes and a deep frown form, accented by furrowed brows.

She barked back, “I stayed with you because you were being tormented by Kàndelthylt! He was hurting you and there was nothing I can do, so I ran to you, trying to comfort you! I can’t stand to see someone I love being tortured like that!”

Love?

Clegmane’s good eye widened and he felt all frustrations leave him. She did not stop her tirade, though this blow was delivered as a mere whisper. “He hurt me too, Clegmane. I felt your pain, too.”

That did it. A cold spear, as if the tail of the black dragon itself, had lashed out, striking his heart. Pain inflicted upon him, he could certainly bear, and with pride. Pain visited upon Twilight Sparkle, however, was something else entirely. His breath shortened, his pulse pounding. He whispered back to her, saying, “You really do care, don’t you?”

She did not hesitate. “Yes, Clegmane. For longer than you know.”

Another moment of silence came and went. Clegmane stared at nothing in particular. Finally, he asked, “In this dream of yours, how did it end? Did I kill him or did he kill me?”

Her gaze hardened on him. Through teary eyes and clenched teeth, Twilight said, “I’m not sure. You told me to run away.”

“As you should,” he responded. “If that dream were to become reality.”

“Do you honestly expect me to do that?”

“May the Element of Honesty endorse me,” Clegmane declared.

“We’ll see what she has to say about that when she gets here.”

“If things get out of hoof, you need to get safe, Miss Sparkle.”

“Stop calling me that!” Clegmane thought he felt the ground shudder slightly beneath him.

“I’m being serio—”

“SO AM I!” Twilight’s teary eyes narrowed and brightened as if with the light of the sun itself. Yet, even for the brilliance of those eyes, the world around Clegmane darkened. The tremors that he barely felt now very nearly took him off his hooves. Twilight’s voice darkened with the world. “CAN YOU NOT SEE FOR THE SIGHT WHICH REMAINS WITH YOU!”

Clegmane took a step back, his jaw tightened and every hair follicle on his back raised. Sweat pooled around the band of his eye patch and trickled inexorably down the bridge of his snout. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he was afraid.

The darkness receded and the fire faded from Twilight's eyes, though the tears remained shimmering. “I’m not going to leave you,” she added softly. She stepped forward and pressed her nose against his. Clegmane simply stood, with tightened jaw and widened eye. “I love you…” she all but whispered, and he felt her loom closer, shaming the gap between their quivering lips.

“Twilight…” he tried to speak, but her breath caught with his and the warmth washed over his mouth. Lavender, he noted as he watched her eyelids sink down, the flush of her cheek radiating. He felt a similar heat conquer his own cheeks. Then, he noted the gentle, tepid stroke of her lips brushing against his.

No. Clegmane pulled away; regret trailing after departing visage from hers. He caught a momentary glimpse of the surprise in her eyes as they shot open, her lips pursed and ready. He wished he didn’t look, because total confusion and dismay swiftly replaced what was once bliss upon her lovely face. He turned away and walked toward the door leading out into the grounds.

“We should go.” Twilight did not move and neither did he, despite his hoof reaching for the door handle and his back was still to her. He sighed, deeper and more heavily than he could ever recall doing before. The regret still lingered, gnawing at him.

No, he repeated to himself. Can’t let your guard down now. You’ll only end up making her worse, warhorse. Old, beaten, retired warhorse.

“Come on,” he said flatly, still refusing to look in her direction. After a moment, he heard the shuffling of papers being placed into an open saddlebag and the soft tapping of hooves on hardwood. He stepped out the door and Twilight magically extinguished the lights of her classroom. With the turning of a key and the slide of a lock, the Sparkle Institution’s first day had officially come to an end. The hoofsteps of the only two souls departing the grounds carried silently along the Pintocific breeze.

Clegmane sniffed and the air felt heavy, not with passionate angst, as he would have dismissed, but with… something else. The breeze carried with it a saturated air that weighed heavily on his mind. Before long, his dark mane whipped up in a sudden updraft and the breeze became a roaring wind. He glanced back to see the open Pintocific, darkly veiled, for the moon itself hid behind billowing clouds. He saw that Twilight glanced toward the same heavy clouds, despite the sadness in her eyes. That lingering regret still struck him, like the hammers of midnight bells. She continued to watch the threatening clouds and did not seem to notice that he was now looking only at her.

Should I say something? Apologize? Argh! Stupid old stallion. He chided himself before finally saying, “Storm’s brewing. Probably headed northeast, just past us.” He turned around and continued down the path to the Downs.

“No,” was Twilight’s somber reply. “Weather ponies are coaxing it over Seasaddle tonight, to help saturate the soil and prevent re-ignition.” She too, turned back toward the path he heard her following him once again.

So a storm is coming. How thematic and foreboding. Clegmane rolled his eyes at the heavens. He sniffed again. There’s something that is not quite right about this air, though. It smells a little off. He did not have time to contemplate, for the peaked roof of the Downs came into spectacular view, ringed by the eastern star-studded sky. Both Clegmane and Twilight ascended the hillside and were finally met with the front door.

For some reason or another, neither of them made move to enter the elder abode. Clegmane glanced over at Twilight, who simply stared at the door before she lazily turned to meet his gaze. Her eyes carried a tiredness that Clegmane was all too familiar with. Her ears dropped and her coat seemed not to shine, amid the starlight as it usually did.

As it usually did…Clegmane suddenly found himself thinking of Canterlot, of his former office that now belonged to Shining Armor, of occupying that office, of being so bored of it, that he took the time to stroll about the grounds in order to avoid it. He thought of how surprised he was when walking and suddenly finding Twilight—late into her adolescence and beautiful as the night itself—upon the high balcony of the Observatory, actively charting the stars. Other times, he recalled, she would simply walk along the hallways of the palace and ‘lose her way’, asking for him to walk with her until her bearings returned to her. He would oblige every time, since she would refuse to have any other guard escort her. He never thought it actually meant something to her. But what could he have known? Vidalia was always waiting for him at the Downs. Clegmane remembered ordering a little house prepared just for her to move up to Canterlot when she was sick, so she could be with him until the end. The end came before she could move. That house, regardless, was completed and sold to a newlywed as their first home. As far as he knew, they still lived there, unaware of their house’s original intended occupant.

“Clegmane?” Twilight’s voice swam into his ears and he returned to reality. “Are you alright?”

Clegmane stiffened. Is she asking me if I’m alright? After what I did back there? You are a fool, ‘Sir Steadfast’.

“I don’t know,” was his honest reply.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what? If anything, I should be—”

“I shouldn’t have put you in that situation… I just wanted to tell you how I felt—feel—whichever, I don’t know anymore.” She trailed softly off.

“No, I’m sorry, Twilight. I let myself get overwhelmed with everything that’s going on and what may happen. I’m just—”

“Scared?” She offered a weak smile.

“Can’t let…” he hesitated. Anyone in. Not right now.

“Can’t let… what?” She asked.

He was about to answer, when a streak of brilliant white flashed across the sky, just once, but enough to capture his attention. Then it happened again, then two more—then, dozens. Twilight’s eyes widened and she ran out into the middle of the grassy field, head arched skyward.

“I forgot this was tonight!” Clegmane kept his eyes up, watching the nigh endless tracing of short-lived streaks arcing across the starlit canvas above. He sat down next to Twilight, who edged a little close than he had hoped. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this star shower to come by, though, I admit that I forgot to transfer the bearings from Ponyville to here.” She sighed contently and fell back, still staring at the glittering heavenly display. Clegmane fell back as well, crossing his hooves behind his head and watched in silence. Still, despite the beauty that fell above, or lay beside him, his good eye did not full leave the distant darkly forming clouds and the uneasy breeze they blew.

Not another word was exchanged between them, for they simply watched and let the sky fall.

The door lifted from the floor. Clegmane fastened it to the hinges before tightening the screws and releasing it altogether. With a light squeak, the door opened and closed. Aside from the black scorch mark that adorned its hallway side, his bedroom door was good as new. Pleased, Clegmane yawned and ran a hoof along his dark mane before walking to his bed and collapsing down upon it. He cast a worried glance back toward his door, fearing that it would crumble. It, however, did not and continued to stand tall. I swear, he thought, this house would blow away if I didn’t watch it all or keep it together. With a satisfied sigh, Clegmane lay back and welcomed sleep to overcome his wakefulness.

Curious, Clegmane wondered, as he walked about the Downs. There, in the middle of the foyer, sat a perfectly round white onion. It was fresh, as if recently gardened and washed. It smelled delicious, at least to him. Why would anyone just leave this on the floor. He walked toward it and made to raise it with a flare of his horn, only the onion did not move. He tried again, and again it sat perfectly still. With a grunt, Clegmane approached the onion and reached with his hoof, only this time, it bumped against something. “What’s this?” He asked, running his outreaching hoof toward the onion again. Again, it bumped against some invisible wall. Glass? He prodded the air and indeed, he could not break past it. A barrier, he concluded, alarm rising in his mind.

A trap! He turned about and saw his encased armour, polished and waiting. He quickly made for it, but his hooves felt heavy, as if weighed down by lead. A quiet huff caused his ears to perk and he turned back toward the onion, seeing it lit aflame. “But, how?” Clegmane demanded aloud. He watched the onion as its flesh curled and cracked, turning black beneath the licking flame. Dread filled him when another sound emanated from the onion: weeping. Soft, hopeless weeping from the throat of a mare, yet it clearly came from this onion.

“I’m sorry,” hissed the onion, pain dripping from its newfound voice. No, he noted. Not new.

“Vidalia?” he called.

“I’m sorry, my love.” The voice was fading, fleeing away as the flames consumed and blackened the onion further.

“Vidalia!” Clegmane shouted, straining against his heavy hooves, but neither they, nor the barrier allowed him to get near. “VIDALIA!” he screamed as the voice ebbed away, leaving only the blackened remains of the onion’s ashes.

“Clegmane! Where are you?” Another voice called down from above. It was Twilight! Clegmane turned around and saw the small mare peek out from the hallway and gasp at the flames behind him. “Don’t worry, Clegmane! I’ll get you out of here!” At once, she charged toward the stairs. As she did so, another sense of foreboding dread ensnared Clegmane’s heart. A deep rumbling shook the house, sending him to his knees. Another tremour took Twilight’s hooves out from under her and she tumbled halfway down the very stairs she tried to descend.

“Twilight!” Clegmane struggled to get to his hooves. “Twilight, are you alright?”

“Ugh, yeah,” she replied, rubbing her head. “Nothing I can’t handle, right?” She chuckled hollowly and stumbled forward, toward him. Another tremor, far stronger than the previous two shook the earth.

Suddenly, the roof of the Downs cracked and was torn completely off, raining debris and… ash upon them. The sky above was a blazing orange storm of fire and the heat swept down, robbing Clegmane’s throat of all moisture. His lungs burned and his knees grew weak. Worst of all, his wound, that which he received from fighting the dragon known as Kàndelthylt, began to burn hotter than his lungs. Clegmane tried to scream for the pain, but could not for his dry throat. A deep, dark shadow overtook him then, a foul smell wafted in after the heat. Clegmane looked at Twilight and saw that she was stumbling back against a nearby wall, terror etched into her face. He too, looked up at what Twilight saw and his screams still could not escape his throat.

Kàndelthylt emerged from the fires above them both, his black scales and blue eyes gleaming. The dragon turned his great head and took notice of Clegmane. “Look to your city first, Steadfast. See how it burns despite all your efforts.” His voice was laced with malice and pride and Clegmane could not help but look out the windows facing the Pintocific. Aflame, the great city crumbled along the coastline.

Kàndelthylt’s voice bellowed once more and the rest of the Downs began crumbling around them. “Now, bear witness to another of your many failures!” Clegmane heard Twilight scream. He tore his face away from burning Seasaddle and wished that his did not. Kàndelthylt lunged forward and opened his incredible jaws. A long, sliming tongue lashed out from behind swordlike teeth and wrapped dexterously around Twilight, binding her fast and silencing her screams with a squeeze. Before Clegmane could scream in protest, Twilight was pulled into the black dragon’s maw, which shut immediately upon her.

Crunch.

Clegmane roared as he sprang forward, slamming into something solid. “Good!” he seethed, “I have you now, wyrm!” Clegmane reached out with his magic and grasped a loose object, a large splinter of shattered wood, sharp and firm. He made to plunge the stake deep into his foe, but, alas, his levitated weapon was stayed. With a grunt, Clegmane tried to apply more force, but still, the stake would not plunge down. Again, and again, he fed his will into the spell. Aha! He laughed when he saw that it was moving, slowly, but inexorably down. The pointed tip bore ever closer to its soft target.

Wait, soft? Clegmane’s fiery mind settled and he felt with his hooves. What he registered was not black scales, but grey fur. Through his one good eye, Clegmane did not peer into the harsh icy eyes of Kàndelthylt the dragon, but those gleaming and terrified of Gen D’arme, the pony. Clegmane fell back and immediately, a cold horror washing over him. The stake in his magical grasp was held firm still, pressing into the young stallion’s carotid, mere centimeters away from lacerating his flesh. At once, Clegmane released his hold. The light green aura of his magic faded, being instead replaced with a purple aura before launching away from Gen D’arme’s throat and burying itself in the ceiling. He saw the familiar frame of Twilight Sparkle extinguishing her own horn, standing in the open threshold of his room, the door once again removed. Though, instead of merely being blown off its hinges like before, what remained of the wooden work lay strewn about, broken into countless blackened splinters. The makeshift weapon that was stuck to the ceiling resembled all the others. Clegmane’s gaze fell back onto Gen D’arme, who lay back, shock and relief awash upon his face. Clegmane stumbled and tripped, landing hard at the foot of his bed. His scarring flank began screaming in protest at the harsh treatment it had just received, though only welling tears gave any indication.

“Gene!” Twilight called out, running to him.

“Nah, don’t worry about me, Twi. I just got the wind knocked outa me, is all.” Both of their eyes turned immediately to Clegmane, whose chest heaved and whose tears flowed. He tried to fight them, but even Clegmane knew when he was beaten. He began to slowly shake his head.

Sisters forgive me. Clegmane wept.

Gen D’arme forgave him, though Clegmane did not feel like he deserved to be forgiven. The young stallion arrived early that morning, as he did yesterday, to carry out his orders from the Princesses and see them delivered to the Institution. Twilight was already up, Clegmane learned later on, and she was preparing breakfast for them all when she heard the screaming coming from his room.

“We tried forcing the door open, then I tried bucking it,” Gen D’arme explained. “Finally, Twilight got all fed up and just blasted the damned thing apart.” His voice, Clegmane noted, remained a little shaky, despite the humour in it. He was trying to shrug it off; I know the feeling, thought he. Being strong is harder than we make it look.

“I may have overdone it a little,” Twilight laughed, albeit hollowly. Clegmane could see that she was still concerned. She tried to get near him, though he would simply move away or walk faster. He need not look at her to know that this was upsetting her.

Neither of the party exchanged any more words for the remainder of the walk into Seasaddle. All that could be heard was the squeaking of the wooden wheels of Gen D’arme’s cart, containing equipment for the evening’s combat training. These included both their sets of arms and armor. His armaments had been promptly returned to him, care of the City of Seasaddle, free of charge.

Still, the silence pervaded. Perhaps Twilight and Gen D’arme, who she still insisted on calling ‘Gene’, conversed quietly between themselves, but Clegmane took no heed, nor any interest. He arrived at the Collegiate well before them. When they caught up, Clegmane silently willed the canvas of the cart back, pulling out his helm, shield and spear, leaving the rest of his set behind before walking toward the courtyard. Both Gen D’arme and Twilight called to him, but their hails, he did not heed.

I just need to be alone for the day—need to work some of this aggression off. Stupid old stallion, nearly getting one of your own killed. If that cursed Kàndelthylt was playing a game with him, then Kàndelthylt sure as manure was winning. Clegmane thrust his spear into a nearby sitting log, splitting it in half. With a flash of his horn, Clegmane ignited the kindling and a small fire crackled to life. Into this fire, Clegmane held the steel tip of his spear.

“May I ask, sir, what it is you’re doing?” Gen D’arme asked as he entered the courtyard, cart in tow.

“Old laws die hard, like old stallions,” Clegmane replied.

“I don’t recall, sir, of any laws that require heated spearheads.” The younger guardspony set the cart down and walked toward Clegmane, cautiously.

“It’s an old Pegasus code, long written and long abolished since the Unification.”

“I’m a little rusty on Pegasus history, sir.” Gen D’arme sat across from him.

Clegmane waited a moment and checked the colour of the steel before replying. “If a warrior was out of line, he was given the choice to lose his place in the phalanx, or branded with a hot spear tip. The chevron-shaped mark that it left was a reminder to him and to all other pegasi that he had crossed the line, but had elected to ensure that he would never cross it again.” He ignored the look of surprise and realization that marked Gen D’arme’s face.

“Sir, you’re not going to brand yourself over what happened this morning.”

“Is that so, son?” Clegmane turned the steel over.

“Yes, sir!” replied the younger stallion. “There was no harm done—you may have scared the living daylights out of me, but be that as it may, you did not actually kill me, nor will I underestimate your agility ever again.” Gen D’arme chuckled.

“Never underestimate your opponent, regardless of your relationship to said opponent. You will do well to remember that, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good,” huffed Clegmane as he continued to turn the tip. Silence descended for the crackling of the small fire.

Gen D’arme elected to break it. “Um, sir?”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“Granted.”

“Why the buck are you still heating your spearhead?”

Clegmane chuckled, though he could feel no mirth. Gen D’arme, shifted uncomfortably, it seemed. “Another rule of combat, Sergeant,” he raised the spear out of the fire, its tip glowing a pale orange, “is to never assume the predictability of your opponent.” He quickly rotated the spear and pressed that glowing tip to his right shoulder, hard upon his large deltoid muscle. With a soft hiss, his flesh coiled.

Sisters, that hurts! Tears welled and teeth ground, but Clegmane held fast in spite of the searing pain. Gen D’arme shouted and moved to grab the spear away from Clegmane’s aura and away from his captain’s shoulder. Clegmane could only imagine the surprise on his sergeant’s face, as he rose to his hind legs, twisted at the hip and received him with both forelegs.

With searing spear never leaving his reddening shoulder, Clegmane breathlessly spun Gen D’arme around, reversing his momentum and all but tossed the younger stallion away, unharmed. He did not wish to hurt his Sergeant, for there was still work to do. Regardless, he shifted his stance and stepped out of his opponent’s line of attack. Gen D’arme, it seemed, had not taken the invitation to settle, for he did not turn around, but instead gave a quick sidelong glance before shifting his own weight forward, then lashing back with what Clegmane guessed was a semi-powered buck to startle him off-kilter. Again, he could only imagine the look of surprise or frustration on his Sergeant’s face as the strike met nothing but air, for Clegmane sidestepped and shuffled forward to bridge the gap between him and Gen D’arme. Any confrontation lasting longer than a few seconds was far too prolonged for his liking. Time to end this.

“Settle down, son,” whispered Clegmane as he wrapped his forelimb around Gen D’arme’s throat, anchoring his hoof with the crook of his other forelimb, which hooked around the back of the younger stallion’s head, pushing it forward. The headlock, according to Clegmane’s understanding of Buckchat Silat, was designed as a quick, unexpected way to silently end a lethal confrontation. His instructor, Graceful Song’kono—grandmaster from Silat’s distant islands of origin, Indoneighsia—had altered the technique for non-lethal ways to end violence without excessive violence. Instead, Gen D’arme tensed, at first, but then settled down for the pressure against his throat.

From between clenched teeth, he simply sputtered a, “Yes, sir.” Clegmane released him and stepped back, removing the spear from his shoulder and sticking it hard into the ground. He then sat down at the fire and watched its glowing embers rise and sparkle. He kept his back to Gen D’arme, who did not move.

Clegmane ignored the twenty students that watched, awestruck, from around the courtyard. He ignored Twilight, who stepped out of the doors, lightly gasping at him and his dejected Sergeant. Clegmane did not take his eyes off the fire, nor did he move to nurse the throbbing burn on his shoulder. He could feel the edges of the chevron, how it pointed up to the sky, where the ancient pegasi once made his act law. Never again, he thought.

With a low, rumbling voice, he said, “Do you not have class to attend?” At once, what students where were quickly shuffled inside, brushing past Twilight and into the building until only she remained outside, staring at him. He saw that she slowly opened her mouth to speak, but no words left. Instead, she turned around and went inside, leaving only him and Gen D’arme. All was silence, save the gentle snapping of the little fire, burning hot.

The morning ended swiftly and Gen D’arme prepared the course, while Clegmane stared into the embers of a long-dead fire. Sixty dulled spears and sixty rounded shields accompanied sixty helms of general design. Midday was upon them and sixty students slowly shuffled out of the nearby doors and into his courtyard.

Gen D’arme was quickly upon them, though his voice lacked the ferocity of yesterday, its authority did not fade. “Recruits, get your gear and line up.” Good job, son. Clegmane smiled inwardly. Sixty sets of hooves trotted, thumping across the grass. The sound of clattering steel and hushed murmurs filled Clegmane’s ears, though he did watch them. In less than thirty seconds, sixty students lined across the inner eastern wall and stood rigid, silent. Gen D’arme took the time to go up and down the line, checking their readiness before trotting over to Clegmane.

“They’re ready for you, sir,” declared the young stallion.

“We shall see, Sergeant. Thank you.” Clegmane rose and pulled his spear free from the ground. He took up his shield and carried his helm at his side as he approached the rigid line of sixty. He stopped before them all and gently raised his helmet up. The blue crest of its horsetail swung lazily in the breeze as it came down and rest upon his dark head. With amber eye blazing, he thrust the edge of his rounded shield into the ground and it stood up in the gouged grass. Within that same second, Clegmane leapt forward, spear held in his grasp and bore down upon the nearest student.

With green panic-stricken eyes, the student, a stallion of dark purple coat and yellow mane yelped, raising his shield up. With a loud clang, Clegmane’s steel spearhead resounded off the concaved surface of student’s shield. Losing his footing, the student fell back on his haunches, dropping his spear, but his defense was still raised.

“Good,” grunted Clegmane as he stepped back. Many eyes followed the downfall of their fellow student, others continued to watch him wearily from behind the steel brows of their helms. Clegmane chose among the former and whipped the shaft of his spear around and down toward the crown of an unsuspecting student, who held her gaze upon the purple stallion.

“Look out, Olive!” The green mare started at the use of her name. Clegmane noted that is was that orange mare—whom Twilight appeared to be quite fond of—that issued the warning. Hazel Drift was it? Good observation skills, to say the least. Recruit Olive glanced up, but only in time to receive a tap on the top of her helm. Olive cringed and kept her eyes tightly shut. When there was no pain, she slowly opened them up again and Clegmane saw that they were a lovely light shade of lavender, much like Twilight’s. The surprise in those eyes was nearly palpable as Clegmane withdrew his spear.

“Not so good.” He stepped back and watched as the purple stallion returned to his hooves and took up his spear once more. Clegmane swept a careful glance across the line of sixty and nodded slightly. Quite a few of them who were not dumfounded or wide-eyed, had actually—whether they themselves noted it or not—leveled their own spears in his direction, following his movements.

Impressive, he thought. Now time to get to work.

He began, saying, “I doubt the dragon will be so forward and obvious as I am.” The students murmured and exchanged glances, but he saw to the end of that, saying, “Break up into pairs—we begin immediately!”

The sound of steel clashing against steel and shouting echoed into the day. Somewhere over the Bay of Seasaddle, the Pintocific swelled and her winds lashed out, carrying the darkened clouds from last night. Light raindrops fell onto Clegmane and his recruits as their training intensified. Soon, the air was filled not with the sounds of steel on steel, but of water against shield, spear and helm. Even as the soil turned to mud beneath then, Clegmane pressed on well into the evening.

The darker clouds, he figured, were yet to come.

So who are you to judge, sir?

Who are you to name, madame?

Guiltless among us all, condemned.

The wings of the sun and cries

Of the moon shall not even know.

- - -

END OF BOOK I

Author's Note

This is the end of Book I. The adventures of Twilight and Clegmane will continue.

Please read, review and put this in the feature box! Heh.
I hope y'all had a happy newyear! I was hoping to get this chapter up before the end of 2012, but to work, you know, food on my family's table. Still, the best is yet to come! Hopefully, sooner than you think....

Prepare for AppleSpike.[/hint]

VI - Of Lineage and Little Ships
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Dutifully Yours

VI - Of Lineage and Little Ships

BOOK II

Lo, they call,
From bitter seas,
They wax and wane.

How doth the saltéd winds,
Embark upon a campaign against,
My body and bones, aged and witheréd.

Shall my fate be sealéd, as the epistles most high,
Intendéd for loved and unlovéd alike, those amongst the Ageless-
N'er to be openéd, lest the sands of fate and time and toil blow inexorably

Away?

Chapter VI: Of Lineage and Little Ships

//-----------------------------

Earth and spiced cider, sweet and strong—smells long familiar, caressing his nose. Thus, Spike opened his eyes to the rising brightness of the world. From between swaying curtains, rays of sunlight kissed the edge of the bed, warming the blanket under which he lay. With a silent groan, the young drake stretched and scratched his brilliant purple scales. A mumble and a shifting of blankets next to him reminded Spike that he was not alone. In fact, this was not even his bed, nor his place! No, this was his lover’s bed and that same sunlight now kissed her shining orange coat. Again, he sighed happily. I plan to hold her until she falls asleep only to fall asleep myself. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been awake for two days and I’ve spent both of them here. Maybe I should check up on the library today? He mulled this over as he watched his bedmate quietly for a moment, though waiting not too long. Tussled blonde mane concealed luminous green eyes that eventually blinked open. Spike’s own green eyes met hers and he simply smiled, his gleaming fangs parting to say, “Good morning, Miss Applejack.”

Applejack yawned and stretched and reached out to him, her soft hoof gently grazing his strong chin. “Mm, good morning, loverboy.” She returned his toothy smile and lifted herself up to kiss his nose as she usually did. “And by the way,” she added, “It won’t be ‘Miss’ Applejack for long.” She turned her head and the rays caught the facets of a large diamond that clung, pierced to her right ear. Refracted light cast a shimmering glow across her room.

Spike chuckled, saying, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He leaned into to her.

“I usually am.” She did not resist.

“Modest too… I think I like that.”

“Honestly modest,” Applejack agreed and their lips met. Spike reached up and stroked her mane and ran his fingers along her ears. She shivered slightly. Oh, I know she loves that kind of attention, Spike smiled inwardly. His claws, sharp as volcano glass, only tickled his bride as they clinked against her engagement earring.

Even with his substantial allowance, as signed and granted by the Princesses themselves, Spike could not imagine saving enough to purchase a stone of equal quality, let alone finding one in Ponyville. No, this stone was a gift given by his Clan, a heritage that was, up until a few months ago, entirely unknown to him. Yet, to Equestria they came, seeking him: his parents—the Chief dragons of Clan Royum, his birthright. To him and his new wife-to-be, only a princely gift would do, at least in the eyes of other dragons! Spike learned that there were some things that he could not argue with his parents about—decidedly, a war was preferable to losing their son, but Sisters deliver him should he disagree about the finer details of matrimony and life union.

Eventually, the morning kiss found its ending, though Spike remained quite, lost amid the shining earring and its inset stone. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, love?” Applejack asked.

Spike answered softly, “This stone.” He cradled her head in his large palm and she nuzzled into it. He could feel her green eyes searching his face, considering his response.

“What about it?” she asked.

“Just how I had to fight my parents tooth and nail to convince them to let me buy my own engagement ring.”

“And you still lost.” She smiled. He chuckled hollowly.

“Still, I’ve never seen my father so adamant about something, even though I’ve only known him for all of a few days, really.”

“It didn’t take him long to realize that I would have been happy with a rubber band,” Applejack noted.

“Secretly,” Spike continued, “I think he’s glad that he never had to part with that really big one… you know which one I’m talking about?”

“You mean that ring with the stone the size of your head?” she teased.

“My head’s not that big!”

“Big enough for me.” She kissed him before he could complain. She knows how to cut me off pretty good, thought Spike as he returned the kiss.

Abruptly, Applejack ended the it and jumped up and out of bed. “Alright, breakfast time!” She swiftly turned about, taking a hold of the bed sheets with her strong teeth before tearing them off the bed and off Spike.

“Hey!” he shouted, but Applejack whipped around and tossed the blankets on top of his suddenly exposed form. Spike could hear a playful giggle, and the gentle clopping of hooves against hardwood as Applejack rounded her bed toward him. Lying still, Spike waited until she came to a stop and could feel her next to him.

Now! Spike jumped up, sheathed with bed sheets and tackled the orange mare to the ground, her gasp replaced with an abrupt huff as he landed atop her on the ground. With poised claws, Spike lashed at her vulnerable obliques, unleashing a torrent of tortuous tickling. If there was one thing that Applejack could ill endure, it was his tickling, just as she melted under his scratching.

“Ah! St-stop! I-I-heh, heh—I can’t breath!” Applejack squealed delightfully. Spike stopped, eventually.

Satisfied, the drake stood up and offered a hand. “These claws are pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

An orange hoof reached out, gripping hard. “Yeah, sugar, I reckon you’re right… mostly.” With a yank, Spike was pulled down onto the floor once more. He felt a limb wrap around his leg and with another forceful yank, Spike was rolled onto his back. Applejack, mischievous face and all, bore down to him.

He grinned back. “Nice try, love. But, you forgot one very important thing about us dragons.”

“And that would be?” Applejack pressed her nose against his.

“Prehensile tail.”

Applejack barely had time to react as Spike flexed his tail and whipped it around, lightly jabbing his fiancé in the ribs. Amazingly, she held her ground and did not roll off. Alright, Spike figured, let’s see how it feels on the other side! He flexed his tail once again, but winced as it smashed into something beside them—it was her dresser. Both he and Applejack looked in the direction of the sound and heard a gentle rattling, followed by a soft rolling. Something slowly peeked over the edge, something clear, but glimmering. A bottle?

“Horse apples, no!” he heard Applejack hiss as she quickly scrambled to get off him and lunge for the straying bottle. She fell short and missed catching it entirely. “No!” she shouted. Spike watched the bottle crest the edge of the dresser and tumble lazily off. He flexed his tail once again and straightened it. A soft tink caught his ears and he breathed out slowly, for the bottle landed upon the tip of his tail, balancing precariously in the middle.

Applejack recovered and quickly snatched up the bottle, cradling it in her front hooves. “Oh, thank the Sisters! I thought I’d lost this one!” Spike raised an eyebrow, Before he could ask, she beat him to the chase, “Thank you for saving it, Spike. I’d hate to have something bad happen to the Bluemuzzle.”

The Bluemuzzle? What? Spike’s eyebrow rose higher. Then Applejack held out her prize, which, he could see, was no mere bottle. “A model ship? In a bottle?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack beamed. “Specifically, the SS Bluemuzzle.” She ran a gentle hoof over the bottle and stared at it longingly for a moment before gently placing it back upon its once-overturned rack and picked up another, larger bottle. “And this here’s the RSN Alicorn, pride of the Airfleet.” Spike leaned forward to get a good look. Unlike the sailboat that was the Bluemuzzle, the Alicorn was an airship with inflated canvas and all. He gave a low whistle, exchanging glances between his fiancé and her little airship encased in a large clear rum bottle.

Slowly, he spoke, saying, “You are many things, Applejack: farmer, caretaker, Honesty, mine… but I would have never taken you for a model ship-in-a-bottle-builder.”

Applejack sat straight up, holding the Alicorn in one hoof, while placing the other on her hip, for Spike realized that it was her turn to raise a brow. “And why not?”

Uh-oh! Spike winced.

“I may not be the smartest pony in Equestria, but sure have enough brains and patience—Oh Luna, so much patience—the construct and assemble and inflate the canvases of bottled model airships!” Her cheeks reddened and her eyes narrowed.

“Not what I meant, my love,” Spike sighed.

“Oh? And what did you mean?”

“I meant that you’re always to busy, I never figured you that have enough time to have such a time-consuming hobby is all!” He saw the flush fade and her shoulders relax. How did I not notice that they were tensed? With a sigh, Applejack smiled and placed the bottle back on its rack. Also, how did I not notice that bottle before? Spike made a mental note to be more observant.

“Soup’s on!” a high-pitched scream erupted behind Spike.

“Gah!” spat the startled drake as he felt a roiling in his chest. Without warning, his diaphragm twitched and a torrent of heat and green fire burst from his gullet, toward Applejack. Uh-oh! Spike winced. The crackling smoke cleared and Spike registered the wide-eyed stare fiancé was giving him. No scorches or burns dared tarnish her pristine orange coat, but her hooves where once a bottled Alicorn sat, were now bare.

Spike had sent Applejack’s model to Princess Celestia. Apple Bloom rounded the corner into her sister’s room and asked, “Are ya comin’ or what?”

“In a minute, AB.” Applejack did not take her eyes off her still-outstretched forelimbs. It must have looked quite the queer sight to Apple Bloom.

“Suit yourself, sis. Oh, and you too, Spike.” He heard the filly turn about and trot back down the stairs to the kitchen. As she did so, Spike heard her mutter something along the lines of, ‘Why does my family have to have the weird ones?’

Spike took a deep breath. “AJ… I’m so sorry!”

With a shake of her head, Applejack cracked a smile and replied, saying, “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it too much, hon. The Alicorn may be my newest, but it sure ain’t the most precious to me.” She placed a hoof on the Bluemuzzle’s bottle and Spike exhaled in relief.

“However,” she teased as she walked by him, whipping her tail in his face, “iff’n she get’s broken on its way to the Princess, you’ll be getting me a new one and inflating the canvas yourself!” At that, she skipped out of the room and followed her little sister downstairs.

Spike watched her go. The smell of breakfast wafting upstairs preceded her departure from his presence. His stomach rumbled, though not for food. In fact, it was not his stomach at all, but his chest again. Uh-oh! Spike prepared for another volley of flame, this time taking the precaution of being out of reach of anything not nails down. His chest contracted and the flame leapt out of his maw, carrying with it the sparkling smoke and a solid object, which he deftly caught in his claws. It was the Alicorn! However, it was different, chiefly because of the note attached to it via wax seal onto the glass itself. He removed the parchment and read aloud to himself:

“Dear Spike,

Although I am pleased to see that you have taken up such a challenging and rewarding pastime—you are right to be proud of presenting me with such a beautiful specimen—it would be far more acceptable to warn me prior to sending such a large package, so that it may not end up in my morning porridge (and, by proxy, all over me) for next time.
Yours, P.C.”

Spike could not decide whether to laugh or groan, so instead, he shrugged, thankful that the bottle and its contents remained undamaged. Better a perturbed Celestia than a disappointed Applejack. He placed the Alicorn back onto its rack and turned about to join the Apples in yet another unexpected breakfast.

“What do you want to do on your day off, AJ?” Spike asked, stifling a burp.

“Not sure, really,” Applejack mused as they both walked from the house. She suddenly stopped, gasping lightly. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve been awake!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you noticed,” he deadpanned.

“Don’t get smart, love—what I mean is that your parents wanna see you!”

“Wait, they’re still here? Even after six weeks?” How could I have forgotten about them! Only the biggest development—he regarded Applejack—second biggest development in my life!

“Yeah, hon! They told us to keep you close when you were out cold, said something about how you’ll need us more than ever and that they wanna speak with you as soon as you awoke. I reckon they’re still around, waitin’.”

“Waiting where?” Spike looked about, for it he felt it particularly difficult to consider hiding a pair of Great Dragons near Ponyville without cause so much as a stir.

Applejack pointed the tallest peak of the eastern mountain range: the old den of the crimson dragon that the Elements convinced to relocate nearly two years ago. “Over there, hon.” Spike heard the tale of Twilight’s quest to rid the air of the foul smoke that the drake produced and how they had learned to never underestimate Fluttershy’s line of sight. Providence, it seemed, now beckoned him to ascend the craggy heights of that same mountain, minus the timid pegasus or anyone else. Anyone, save…

“Applejack?” he looked over at her.

She smiled and nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Don’t need to ask me, Spike. I’m here for you. Heck, I’m willin’ to climb that mountain again iff’n it meant I could help you.”

Spike smiled back, saying, “That’s all I need.” He then looked at the mountain, cold and still and took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, sugar.” Applejack nudged her drake forward and they both stepped across the open fields of Sweet Apple Acres.

The grey face of the mountain loomed over them by late morning. Green foothills rolled around and behind them as they gave way to cold stone roots of the awaiting peak. Spike glanced up at the near vertical slope and slowly began to climb. He asked, “How long did it take you and the rest of the girls to climb this face last time?”

Applejack bit her lip before replying, “Funny you should ask that, Spike, ‘cause we had more than our fair share of setbacks, turnarounds and frightened Flutternshies to drag around for half the day. Spike noted the sour tone Applejack used, particularly when discussing Fluttershy. Regardless, surprise failed to impress upon him as he led on. The high bluff eventually gave way to a steady draw, which itself turned into a flat path by which they could traverse at a better speed.

“I think it’s time for a break, don’t you think?” Spike asked, his chest heaving.

“What? Already?” Applejack winked and sat next to him.

“Har, har.” Spike rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. “By the way,” he added, “Celestia sent your ship back, unharmed I might add!” He beamed.

“Well, how fortuitous,” Applejack smiled.

“I’ll say, though you didn’t seem worried at all.” Spike scratched his head.

“Like I said,” replied Applejack, “The Alicorn ain’t my prized possession, as far as the models go.”

“Yeah,” Spike recalled, “It’s that Bluemuzzle, right?”

Applejack sighed, her eyes searching the ground, “Yeah. That one’s special.” She became silent after that.

Spike looked at her and gently placed his fingers upon her chin, guiding her face to meet his. “May I ask why?”

She offered a weak grin and rubbed her nose against his. “I guess you deserve to know.”

“Know what?” He asked.

“My daddy made it for me when I was real young.”

“Your… father?”

“My one and only,” Applejack breathed. “It was half a gift, he said. Cause the real thing was waiting for all of us on the East coast—that was the real gift.”

“Your father was a sailor and he actually built a boat for you guys?” Spike could barely believe it: Applejack was talking about her parents, her actual parents. Long had he considered her aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings, but never her parents? It was just something that never came up, even after knowing Applejack for so long, lover or no. It was then that the morning light glinted off of Applejack’s eyes and he took full notice.

Oh, AJ… Spike held her close. He knew her. He knew how desperately she was fighting the onslaught of tears.

“I’m sorry, AJ… if you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No, Spike, I need to. It’s just that, meeting your parents, actually learning about where you come from, is something I only have fleeting memories of. My momma and daddy were inseparable and I always remember them being together. Big Mac has a better memory, but he won’t say too much. I think it hurts him just as much, if not more.

“Granny Smith talks about them from time to time. It’s hard for her too, since they left shortly after Apple Bloom was able to walk and talk on her own and she used to ask about mom and dad all the time. Now, she kinda stores it up, like the rest of us.”

Spike rubbed Applejack’s shoulders. She had given up her battle and allowed the tears to roll free, leaving their saline trails behind them on her orange coat. “What happened?” Spike asked plainly, with the empirical nature that comes from being the ward of a young scholar, he just had to know.

And, it seemed to him that she would allow it. “I don’t rightly know, Spike. Not even Granny knows. You see, we Apples adore our farm and our trade, but Dad had a secret passion that he shared with Mom: He adored the ocean, that rising grey and the mixure of blues and greens. The salty air and powerful winds, he loved it all. That’s where he’s from, you know: Manehatten. He grew up on the harbourfront and learned to sail at a young age. Then, he met Mom and moved out here, only ever coming back to sail with her. Being a farm girl, Mom never really took to the water… until she met him. He built the Bluemuzzle for her, and, eventually, for all of us when we got old enough. When Apple Bloom was born, Mom and Dad and Granny worked the orchards while Mac and I helped as much as we could, especially taking care of lil’ AB. When she grew up enough to fend for herself, Mom and Dad headed out to the East coast again, just to finish up the Bluemuzzle and moor her before the winter, then come back to spend that same winter together, with us. Only….” She paused, her sobs growing and tears ever-flowing. She inhaled and pressed on, saying, “Only, they never came back.” Applejack sniffed and pressed against Spike, unable to meet his tender gaze. “Th-they found the wreckage of a small sailboat named Bluemuzzle off the northern shores of the East. No survivors found. That was all we were told.”

Spike rested his head against Applejack’s. “AJ… I—”

“They died together,” she interrupted. “I know that much. They wouldn’t allow themselves to be separated, not even by the ocean itself.”

Spike ran his fingers idly through her blonde mane, blowing in a mountain breeze. Applejack nearly choked when she said, “I fear the day Granny Smith passes on, if only for Apple Bloom. She’s lost Mom and Dad before she could even know them… she can’t afford to lose another mother figure so soon!”

“I understand how you feel, AJ,” Spike continued to stroke his fiancé’s mane. “But, AB is a strong filly, plus she still has you and Big Mac.”

“And now you too, hon. Don’t sell yourself short,” Applejack attempted a weak chuckle, amid the tears.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s thrilled to have me for a brother-in-law.”

“Just give her time, Spike. She’s just a little jealous, is all.”

“Yeah, yeah. But still….”

“I know, hon.” She turned her head and kissed his jaw-line. “But trust me when I tell you that she wouldn’t have it any other way, especially when she sees how happy you make me.”

“Maybe that is why she’s jealous,” he teased.

“Keep pushin’, loverboy.” Applejack nipped his chin playfully. They shared in some light laughter before she turned fully to meet his gaze. “See? You make me feel better already.”

“I do that, don’t I?” He grinned openly.

“You sure do, hon. Although, I’ve never… told anyone that story before. Not to anyone I’ve ever been with, anyway—our friends know, but no details. That kind of honesty is between a groom and his bride.”

That hit Spike like the Pony Express. No one? Ever? She’s never allowed any other guy to get this close, at least close enough to learn about her parents? He felt his heart beat with renewed vigor. I guess the Apple family has always been so strong that no one took the time to notice how much pain they have buried. If only I knew. Well, now I know, I suppose. I still have my parents, even though I barely know of them, let alone actually know them.

“Now will you look at that?” Applejack broke Spike’s reverie. He refocused on her to see that she was looking straight up. “We’re almost directly beneath the cavern. If only we brought climbing equipment.”

Spike looked at his claws and flex his growing wings. “Actually, love,” he began, “I have something better.” He stood up and turned to face the mountain face once more. He then motioned to Applejack to get behind him and hold on tight. She did so and he poised himself. “I’m tired to walking anyway.”

Across the stone face of the lonely peak, Spike, with Applejack in tow, scaled the heights above. With stroke after powerful stroke, the young drake pieced the mountain’s flesh with his claws and griped hard as he hoisted both himself and his fiancé higher and higher. As the winds whipped and the cold bit, Spike felt Applejack shiver, her limbs wrapping tighter around him. Gotta hurry this up, he urged himself on. As he clung and threw his mass upward, Spike wondered what all manner of wildlife would think, should they see him pass. Would they think him some odd creature, as some living gargoyle far from the stone and steel canyons of Manehatten? Would simple wildlife even begin to make that distinction? Spike tried not to bother with such thoughts, lest they steal his concentration.

And so, the young drake climbed until the last steps of the rocky stairs were scaled and at last, Spike found himself at the mouth of a great cavern, whose depths were veiled in foreboding shadow. Applejack dismounted him as a hollow sound grew from the depths of that darkness. A great rush of warm air met his face, carrying with it a familiar scent. Smoke followed, curling around the upper lips of the cave’s maw. The rocky ground rumbled beneath them and the warm air rose in temperature.

They were not alone, surely. Spike stepped forward, crossing the threashold. That hollow sound grew and a deep, powerful voice followed:

“Who dares enter the lair of Dadealus, Lord of Dragons!”

Spike glanced sidelong at Applejack, who merely shrugged. He stared into the darkness and replied, saying, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Author's Note

The beginning of the long-awaited Book II launches with happy, healthy helping of AppleSpike.
For those of fickle memory, here is the link to the original story: Unintentionally Yours

And a link to a little AU side-story that provided some ship-building framework for the bedroom scene: Apples and Acres Away

Thank you all for your patience and I look forward to reading your convivial and carefully conceived, yet constructive comments!

Regards,
-Justin.

VII - Winged Dreams and Tiny Hooves
View Online

Dutifully Yours

VII - Winged Dreams and Tiny Hooves

//-----------------------------

Mom! Dad! I’m home! Spike’s voice carried along the cavernous and rocky walls of his parents’ temporary abode. A low rumbling was made in response, turning the ground and warming the air, despite the bite the mountaintop breeze. Applejack felt the vibrations traveling of her sensitive hooves and running along her spine. Her breath, deepening and her heart quickening its rapid pace swiftly reminded her that she never got used to the idea of not only one but a pair of towering dragons approaching her. She pressed against Spike, feeling his smooth scales and warm core against her soft orange coach. She could not help but tremble.

“Is that trembling for me or for them?” Spike teased softly into her twitching ear before resting a clawed hand upon her shoulder.

“I'm sure you'd know the difference, sugar cube,” Applejack whispered back, leaning into Spike's tall frame. “Guess I'm still not entirely used to having dragons for in-laws, you know what I mean?” She quietly fumbled with the ring that adorned her, its gleaming stone catching the stray rays cast from the sun.

Two great shadows darkened the depths of the cave’s gaping maw before emerging altogether into the gloomy light. The first to reach out with its enormous clawa was the largest of the pair, it's crimson scales layered upon dense muscle and sinew. Great golden eyes glowered down upon Applejack and Spike. Steam rose from flared nostrils and the low rumbling rolled the back of the giant's throat, its dagger like fangs gleaming. Dadealus, Applejack gulped, Spike’s pa.

The second Dragon emerged just behind the first, her sky blue scales and icy green eyes fixed upon Spike. Her elegant, lithe, albeit enormous frame settled down and she lowered her head to be at eye level with her son. Nalthanida, Applejack recalled, such fancy names for such frightening creatures.

“Severezhad!” the dragoness breathed as Spike stepped forward and hugged her snout. “My, you’ve grown so much in the past six weeks!”

“Your wings, son,” appraised Dadaelus, “they look strong. Can they carry you?”

“So far, so good.” Spike grinned his charming grin.

“How about both you and your mare?” Dadaelus asked.

“Uh, haven’t tried yet.” Spike glanced in his fiancé’s direction.

Applejack had never gotten used to the name that his parents had intended for him. Severezhad… she chewed on it, but it never rolled off the tongue as fluidily as ‘Spike’ had. Maybe her time with the young drake had lent itself to some bias, but regardless, he was always going to be Spike to her… her Spike. A smile curled upon her lips as she watched her fiancé and his mother interact.

Still, she thought, there’s something sweet about all this, dragons or no dragons.

“Miss Applejack,” a loud, thundering voice boomed from above, startling Applejack out of her stupor. She glanced upward and met the golden gaze of Dadaelus, Lord Royumi of Dragons.

“H-hello, sir!” She offered nervously.

“Do not be frightened at my greatness, little pony. Have we not been generous with out support of your union? Do we still frighten you so?”

Be polite, AJ… don’t say anything ‘untoward’ as Rarity might call it. They did give you and Spike these beautiful rings. And their blessing, which might not’ve been the easiest thing for draconic parents to do for their only surviving son… who is marrying a pony of all beings.

She cleared her throat and settled her hooves. “As great an’ intimidatin’ as you are, Lord, I’m just at a loss for words to express my thanks and—err—appreciation for all you and your Lady have done, blessin’s especially!”

The lovely blue Nalthanida turned her great head toward Applejack, saying, “It is the least we could do. Besides, it does not hurt our hoards to spare only the best for my son and his brave wife-to-be.” At this, Applejack flushed heavily, much to the dragoness’ amusement. Despite this, Applejack noticed something else in the blue dragon’s green eyes. There was not the ice which preceded her, but something else… sadness? It was something the lady drake was trying to conceal, as far as the Element of Honesty knew.

“I guess that answers our first question, eh, AJ?” Spike chuckled and stepped back to wrap his arm around his fiancé, an act that warmed her heart her flushed, freckled cheeks.

“So!” Dadaelus saw fit to lower his head to eye level, a rare tone of anticipation in his otherwise regal voice. “When can we expect children?”

What! Applejack’s eye widened and her cheeks glowed beyond what she was sure was their redness capacity. She was proven wrong.

“What!” Spike spat, vocalizing what Applejack was clearly thinking.

“Husband.” Nalthanida cautioned, rolling her eyes.

“It is well within my right to inquire, wife!” Dadealus barked back.

Children? Applejack thought. I don’t even think that’s even possible, let alone consider if we’re even ready for the patterin’ of little hooves! Still, the notion intrigued her. Sudden warmth enveloped her belly. The more she thought of it, the more she realized how nice it would be. Would I be a good mom? Can I even become a mother with Spike as my husband? Uncertainty and a measure of dread ate away at the newly discovered warmth. She wanted to be a mother—she looked at Spike—but, how? She fought off the dread and beat the uncertainty away. The warmth was too special to have it spoiled. We’ll just have to find a way.

“But, dad: I’m a dragon and AJ is a pony. How is that even possible? Is it possible?” Applejack caught something in Spike’s voice as well. Was he hopeful, too? Did he want children with me, too? The warmth grew. Now I absolutely have to find a way.

“Possible? Severezhad, we are Dragons! The Lords of the Earth and Sky! Nothing is beyond our reach! How do you think the dragonequi came into being?”

“Draconequus?” Applejack wondered. “Ain’t that what Celestia described Discord was?”

Nalthanida huffed and said, “Celestia’s interpretation is not inaccurate, but it is incomplete.”

“How so?” Asked Spike.

“The Discord was indeed a kind of Draconequus, but not a true darconequus—his was the manifestation of Chaos, not a product of natural birth.”

“So, that means…” Spike puzzled it out.

“It means that you may have children, yes.” Nalthanida managed what Applejack could interpret as a genuine smile. In turn, she smiled as well, the warmth overpowering the uncertainty and dread alike. She looked to Spike, who held her closer. He then whispered something into her ear, which caused her tail to flick and eyes to widen.

“Again,” asked Dadealus, “when can we expect?”

“Husband!” Nalthanida shouted, but Dadaelus simply chuckled. Wait? Dadaelus can chuckle? There’s more to these dragons than meets the eye, Applejack concluded.

“Well…” Spike scratched the back of his head. “I mean, AJ and I have to get settled down first and she still has work at the apple farm, I still have my research duties with Twilight, plus I promised AJ that we’d travel together.”

Dadaelus grumbled, back to his old self, “I am hearing excuses, Severezhad. You owe it to your fiancé to have strong, viable sons and daughters before time runs out.” Nalthanida shot her Lord a withering stare, her icy green eyes narrowing. Dadaelus’s own eyes widened briefly before he said, “Ponies don’t live as long as we do, is what I meant to say.”

Sure it was, Applejack crooked an eyebrow. They’re hiding something. She looked at Spike, who offered a similar puzzled expression.

Dadaelus appeared to have noticed this, as his temper flared and flames shot from his nostrils, “I am Lord and I mean what I say!” The heat subsided and Applejack’s heart wound down once more.

“The future is undecided and they may pick as they see fit, husband. Even you know this.”

“Aye, I understand, wife.” Dadaelus grumbled and settled his great crimson head upon the rocky terrain.

Applejack regarded Nalthanida and noticed that the sadness in her eyes had returned. Her curiosity could not be sated and she asked, “My Lady, why do you look so sad? Any time we talk about time or the future, you seem upset. Did I offend ya? Cause, I’m sorry if'n I did.” She earnestly stepped forward.

Nalthanida gently shook her head, saying, “It is something that is beyond my reach, but I will not speak of it now, wise Applejack.”

Applejack frowned, but nodded in understanding. “I just wanted to know what was bothering my in-laws is all. I have to learn about you way more than I have to learn about Spike—err—Sevr'zhad, so please don’t hold back just because we’re still strangers!”

Nalthanida offered another draconic smile, only this one was laced with hurt and longing, “When the time comes, I will tell you.”

Spike scoffed, saying, “Gee, mom, I would have figured you and dad be less cryptic then Princess Celestia or even Princess Luna.”

“Should I be insulted by the comparison?” Nalthanida asked her son evenly.

“No, mother,” sighed Spike heavily, “but their word is law here and it’s by them that we still have to make sure this marriage goes according to Equestrian Law. Secrets are not something we want on our wedding day.”

The Lady Drake nodded sagely. “I understand, Severeszhad, but please trust that I will tell you when you need to know.”

Spike rolled his eyes, smiling as he said, “You’re just lucky I don’t have an army of my own to get the answers right now, eh?” He nudged Applejack, who giggled. Dadaelus huffed, but said nothing.

Is he still sore at being outsmarted by the Princesses back at Canterlot? Applejack wondered, studying the smoke that rose from the crimson drake’s lips.

“By the way,” continued Spike, “what happened to that army of yours, dad?”

Dadaelus raised his chin, scratching thoughtfully. Applejack watched those large black claws scrape effortlessly across the smooth red armoured plates. She felt Spike’s hand run down her back much in the same, careless fashion, scratching her along the way. Again, she shivered, but this was a good shiver. She smiled and groaned softly as Dadealus answered Spike’s question, “When they got their shares, they left for the Dragonlands.”

“But,” interrupted Nalthanida, “not before swearing a renewed oath to Clan Royumi for having held our end of the bargain in our campaign.”

Wait, what? Applejack’s humming derailed and she no longer focused on Spike’s ministrations to her lumbar spine. “Beg pardon and no disrespect, Lord, but didn’t the Princess’s end the conflict and save Canterlot?”

“Destruction of Canterlot was never a part of my plans, young Lady Applejack,” Dadaelus replied calmly. “Only the acquisition of Severezhad, backed by the promise of Canterlot’s treasury for those willing to follow me.”

“Ergo,” continued Nalthanida, “Our campaigners achieved their end, which they perceived as my Lord husband’s victory and fulfillment of his promise to them.”

Applejack glanced back and forth between the pair of dragons. “But, in reality, they got what they came for, but you didn’t.” She cringed inwardly at how forward that sounded. But, it was the truth and the Dragons knew it. They nodded.

“Not entirely, however: I got to see my Severezhad again.” The elegant blue dragon smiled once again and Spike returned it wholesale. His scratching resumed and Applejack allowed herself to enjoy it once more. “Besides,” continued Nalthanida, “None shall challenge my husband’s rule when we return.”

Dadaelus breathed a rare and heavy sigh, piquing Applejack’s curiosity, for the sound of disappointment was not lost upon her. Before she could inquire, the Great Royumi spoke, “Though our clan is a far cry from what my father had in mind.”

Spike’s ear-frills piqued as well and his claws halted above Applejack’s back, much to her displeasure. “My… grandfather?”

Dadealus offered what could only have been yet another smile upon his crimson lips, “Yes, my son: your grandfather—Severezhad the Great—had a vision that was once: Valegard, a civilization of our kin.” Dadaelus’ eye looked past both Applejack and Spike, to a far-off age before, and with a gentle shake of his great head, returning his attention to them, saying, “It seems like providence that his namesake should survive these uncertain times.”

So, I see that Spike’s named after his granddaddy. Go figure. She regarded her fiancé with appreciation, never wondering if it was possible to ever stop admiring him. ‘Severezhad the Great’; though no one would have to go too far to see how great my ‘Severezhad’ is. She sighed contentedly; nuzzling him and he gently resumed his scratching. Electricity shot through her spine and she shivered with content amid the mountaintop breeze.

“What happened?” Spike asked. “To grand-dad, I mean—and Valegard?”

“The Great Royumi was unlike any other dragon, my son,” Nalthanida answered. “But, I think, his story is told better by your Princesses upon their thrones at the Citadel. Simply ask them about the true heroes of Equestria. Ask them about the heroes unsung.”

Why does that not surprise me? Applejack chuckled. Celestia and Luna must have over a thousand tall tales to tell. But, anything about Spike is worth a sit-down. But why would the Princesses know better than Spike’s parents?

“You make it sound like yer daddy was hero to them, Celestia and Luna, I mean.” Applejack wondered aloud.

“Does that surprise you, Lady Applejack?” Nalthanida quirked a pale eyebrow.

“No offense, ma’am,” Applejack carefully continued, “but the dragons we’ve met here in Equestria haven’t been the friendliest toward us pony folk, ‘specially that blue-eyed, black-scaled feller… you know, the one that tried to eat Spike and I?”

“Ah yes,” muttered Dadaelus, “You speak of Kàndelthylt.” A low growl rumbled in the Royumi’s throat. “If there are any who lack vision and threaten Valegard’s creation, they belong to the ilk of Kàndelthylt.”

Kàndelthylt… Applejack sounded the strange name out and she heard Spike do the same. Nalthanida, too, joined her husband in the low growling, as if a curse had been uttered.

“For naught of the greater good of Dragonkind, but for their own greed and dominance, do Kàndelthylt and those who follow his example tarnish our cause. It was for this reason that my Lord husband banished the black dragon from our ranks… but not before he rose in challenge. He did not wish to leave Equestria, for he saw weakness in all ponies and therefore saw much to be reaped from that which he did not sow. He challenged us and for that was cast out to hoard in solitude… I should have clenched his throat when I had the chance.” Steam rose from Nalthanida’s nostrils, but a steady claw rested upon her broad shoulder and her anger, at least to Applejack, appeared to subside.

Still, she had to ask, “Where did he go?”

Dadaelus answered, saying, “Kàndelthylt fled northwest—across the Vast Ocean—back from whence he originally came, far away from these lands, for he lacks the strength to challenge the Princesses or their united equines on his own.”

“The ‘Vast Ocean’, as in the Pintocific Ocean?”

“If that is what you call it,” Dadaelus nodded.

“That is!” confirmed Applejack with a bright smile.

“Indeed,” the Great Royumi regarded her. “He has always been wild, untamed, easy to anger. Such is their ilk, as I said. Eleven years ago, he crossed the…Pintocific, is it? His crossing any body of water is much akin to the passing of a hurricane and that is how he found us.”

Eleven years ago… a hurricane? No. Applejack shook her head. No, no, no.

“You alright, AJ?” Spike lowered his head meet hers, concern plastered across his firm features. Applejack shook the memory away and met Spike’s gaze. With a light smile and lighter lips upon his cheek, she nodded. Then, something caught her eye to the West.

Thin plumes of smoke from a distant, shifting stack upon rails of steel rose in the morning air. The Pony Express, Applejack recognized it immediately. So did Spike, as he followed her gaze and pointed when he found it. “Hey, it’s Twilight’s train, headed for Seasaddle. I almost forgot she was leaving today.” From between scales, he reached and pulled free a folded note, the quill strokes thereupon instantly recognizable, if hastily written. Quickly, she read the parchment, just as she had the previous night when she and Spike strolled by the closed and locked library the night before she left.

It read:

Dear Spike and Applejack:

I am loathe to leave you both, especially at such an exciting time in your lives—congratulations, by the way!—but something deeply personal has come up and I must leave. Tomorrow morning, the train to Seasaddle departs and I will be on it, but my trip will only last a few days, I promise! Although I will not divulge the nature of my visit, I can only beg that you convince Pinkie to withhold the engagement party until my return. Again, I’m so sorry, but this is something I have to do!

You’ll understand, I’m sure.

Again, congratulations! Feel free to use the library as you see fit… just don’t wreck anything. I’m serious. You will not start an abusive relationship with my books!

With love,
T.S.

“What do you think she’s goin’ there for, hon?” Applejack idly asked.

“With Twilight, there’s never any knowing... and I’ve known her my whole life!”

“Maybe she’s got a secret boyfriend?” Applejack offered. The serious consideration would have lasted, had Spike not choked on his laughter. Applejack joined with a giggle, though she admitted she felt somewhat bad for it. The Great Dragons simply looked on westward, ignoring them.

A long moment passed as they watched the train disappear across the horizon in its half-day-long trip toward the West coast. High morning was passing swiftly and the clouds shifted lazily upon their predetermined courses, as set by the Ponyville Weather Team. Before long, the train was gone and Dadaelus shifted his great girth, reminding Applejack that he was still there.

“That reminds me, son,” the Great Royumi began, “Your mother and I plan on returning to the Dragonlands this evening, preferable under cover of night in order to avoid panic.”

Applejack watched Spike glance upward and his features drop, filling with sadness. She frowned and reached out to embrace him, for she could not bear to witness his pending sorrow. “You’re leaving already?” Spike’s voice wavered, despite his new size.

Nalthanida lowered her claw and Spike approached it, resting his hands upon its open blue surface. His mother’s icy green eyes gazed lovingly into her son’s. “Do not fret, Severezhad. We will meet again, and I hope soon. We will never be too far away.”

“Be well, my son. I am proud of you. Both of you.” He smiled down at Applejack. “We will meet again before the end.” A twinge of sadness entered the Lord’s voice, though Applejack said nothing. Why do they both seem so sad? First Nalthanida, now Dadaelus. What do they know that we don’t? What’s going on?

Patience, sugarcube, she reprimanded herself. You will know when you need to know.

Still…. She gave it no more thought.

The Royumi bade their goodbyes. Dadaelus turned to disappear inside his temporary home while Nalthinda lingered but a moment longer. Softly, she said to Spike, “There is a fine upward draft from the south. It should carry both you and Lady Applejack back into town.” She smiled at both of them and Applejack could not help but smile back, it was so genuine. “Fare well, my son.” She waved goodbye and then retreated to join her husband.

Applejack joined Spike as they looked over the edge of the mountain’s plateau, down to Ponyville itself. A twisting knot formed in Applejack’s gut, withholding the fluttering of butterflies. She watched as Spike closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drinking the cool mountain air as it mixed with the southern rise.

Oh no, she thought. He’s not actually thinking it, is he?

Spike took a step forward, his feet gripping the edge of the cliff. At once, his wings unfurled and waved lazily in the warm drafts. He then opened his eyes and turned his head to face her, a devilish smile impressed upon it—a smile that would make Rainbow Dash blush. At that moment, Applejack was glad that Spike had found her first; and she, him.

No words; she simply swallowed hard and nodded, rounding his wing and leaping gracefully onto his spiny back, again curious as to why it was so comfortable, despite the ridges. She opted not to think of it, especially since Spike leaned forward, catching an upward gust.

You should be screaming, Applejack chastised herself. Indeed, she should have been, only she forgot to. The butterflies had been unleashed, but so too was the knot. Instead, weightlessness lent speed to the butterflies as Applejack closed her eyes, waiting for the tumultuous crashing end. Only, the end did not come, for instead, joy replaced dread. She was flying! Spike was flying with her!

“Yeehaw!” was not the choicest word to describe fear, but then again, Applejack was unafraid. She was with Spike and he would never let her fall.

Down, down, down they slowly drifted upon the southern rise until finally earth met claws, once sky bound. In what felt like mere minutes to Applejack, they had finally lighted upon the small wooden bridge leading into Ponyville. He held his wings high as she regretfully loosened her grip from his shoulders and slipped back down to solid ground, her legs wobbling slightly.

“You alright?” Spike asked, draping a wing protectively around her like a cloak against the elements.

“Yeah, just fine, hon.” Applejack nuzzled him, savoring the warmth he emitted. “But, maybe you coulda landed us closer to the library?” She winked at him.

Spike shrugged, “What’s a little walk about town?”

Applejack chuckled as she began walking casually ahead him, crossing the creaking old bridge and heading toward Town Hall. They were late in opening the library tree, but no one seemed bothered in the slightest. Happily, Applejack leaned into Spike’s warmth, as they pressed onward into the heart of Ponyville. Ponies, all familiar and friendly, trotted about their business, or so it was until the pair made their way through the market. Applejack failed to notice at first, but perplexed eyes and unsure glances met her with every turn and every step. Perhaps she was too distracted by the comfort that Spike’s furnace provided. Perhaps she was simply seeing things. However, the thicker the market became, the more eyes fell strangely upon them.

What’s got their attention? She wondered. She glanced up at Spike, he seemed nervous, for he had noticed the stares as well. Ain’t they seen a dragon and a pony befo—oh.” Of course they hadn’t. Applejack rolled her eyes. They had not been as vocal about their relationship as they had first thought, at least that was the thought with Applejack as the canopy of Golden Oaks came into view. Somehow, Pinkie Pie had kept her peace and Ponyville woke up this morning none the wiser.

Speaking of Pinkie Pie, thought Applejack, smiling. On cue, the pink mare bounced into view, balancing a rather heavy-looking bag of flour upon her frizzy head. Somehow, the bag was refusing to fall. Somehow, Pinkie managed to shame the laws of gravity. Still, she was always a sight for sore, or bored eyes. Applejack possessed neither, but she enjoyed her friend all the same. Bounce after bounce led Pinkamina Diane Pie toward them. Applejack heard a light chuckle from Spike as the sac of flour bounced carelessly with its carrier.

“Hi, AJ! Hi, Spike!” Pinkie bounced in place, lifting the sac of flour inadvertently in the air, only to suspend briefly in thin air before being met with Pinkie’s mane once more. This cycle did not show signs of ebbing as Applejack and Spike sent their greetings in return.

“Well, howdy, Pinks!” Applejack greeted cheerfully.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Spike replied with a grin.

“Don’t mind the sac of flour,” the bouncy pink mare offered. “It’s all for the super secret-but-not-really-secret-since-everypony-already-knows-okay-that’s-a-lie-since only-close-friends-know-however-in-our-limited-scope-of-the-world-our-friends-might-as-well-be-‘everyone’-super-special-engagement-party-cake!”

Applejack’s mind spun, but was managing as she said, “As long as you hold off until Twi gets back, I’m sure this cake will be good eatin’ when the day comes… just try not to overdo it again?”

“Again!” Pinkie stopped bouncing in mid air, her expression almost aghast. But before Applejack could elaborate, Pinkie simply shrugged and said, “Actually, I’d believe it, especially from Honesty herself!” Applejack laughed and waved off the comment.

“Anyway,” Pinkie continued, “Losta work to do! Love to chat, but time is bits, at least that’s what the Cakes keep saying, though I have to admit that if time was bits, why haven’t I seen any and furthermore—” Pinkie bounced away, back toward Sugarcube Corner, her conversation still in full, unattended swing. Spike shrugged and Applejack rolled her eyes. Ponies were still staring.

Past the market and into the financial district, a sudden clap of thunder cast a startling bolt of panic through Applejack, causing her to jump into Spike’s arms. A devious cackle from a nearby and albeit suspiciously low-hanging cumulus fed her all the answers she required.

“Rainbow Dash…” Applejack grumbled.

“Hah! I got you lovebirds good!” Rainbow’s face popped through the cloud, a grin plastered wholesale upon her blue visage. “Got lost in your PDA, huh?” she prodded.

“I’ll get you for that!” Applejack shook her hoof wrathfully at the pegasus from within the warm confines of Spike’s grip. This, of course, was serving only to amuse Dash further.

“Yeah, keep shaking your hoof, Granny!” Rainbow chortled. Applejack frowned, an embarrassed blush caressing her cheeks. Spike sniffed, stifling his laughter, which earned him a glare from his fiancé.

Ah, forget it. It was kind funny, I guess. Applejack’s frown deflated, instead being replaced with a smile. “I’m still gonna get you for that, Dash.”

Rainbow Dash disappeared inside the cloud, saying, “Promises, promises. Also, it’s no wonder other ponies are staring at you… maybe you two should get a room and get it out of your systems. Maybe then they’ll stop staring.” At that, the cloud drifted away. “Catch you guys later!” Applejack watched as Rainbow Dash stealthily hovered over to a familiar cream-coloured pegasus.

Oh no, not Fluttershy… Rainbow, are you serious? The cloud slowly settled over their timid friend, who balanced a bird’s nest, laden with bright blue eggs, between her wings.

“Should we, ah,” Spike began.

Suddenly, Fluttershy stopped, glanced upward and her wide teal eyes narrowed into angry, disapproving slits. The world suddenly felt darker; colder, despite Spike’s chest. It did not last more than a few seconds, but Applejack knew exactly what happened when the darkness evaporated and Rainbow’s frozen facial features and pale expression were all that remained of her mischievousness. Within seconds of being released from Fluttershy’s glare, Rainbow took off at full speed, leaving prismatic trails and broken cloud behind her. Fluttershy, on the other hand, continued trotting on her merry way. She gave a cautionary eep when she bumped into Applejack, still being cradled by Spike.

Her shock wore away when she recognized her dear friends. “Oh, hi Applejack and Spike. How are things?”

“Smooth as scales, sugarcube. I couldn’t be happier.” Applejack grinned and snuggled closely in the drake’s arms.

“Neither could I,” Spike interjected.

Fluttershy smiled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to have to cut this short but I'm off to Rarity’s to see if she could liven this old nest up in preparation for the chicks in these eggs. Have a relaxing day, you two!” She was careful not to upset, the nest or its contents as she trotted away. As they set about the last leg of their little journey toward the library, Applejack noticed that the staring ponies had not relented in their observational assault. Her irritation twanging, she wanted to say something firm, but it was unworthy of her at the moment. They continued on.

When Spike and Applejack reached Golden Oaks Library, they were not greeted by its closed, yet colourful doors, but by the pristine whiteness of an alabaster coat and a deep purple mane with matching curled tail. Rarity? Applejack wondered. The fashionista’s back was to them as a gentle hoof knocked at the door. Her voice, like a singsong rang in the air, “Yoo-hoo! Spike, Twilight… Applejack? Is anyone in there?”

“We’re right here, Rares.” Applejack deadpanned as her friend turned about, gracefully and looking as flawless as the diamonds on her flanks.

“Oh! Applejack… Spike, so glad I could see you!”

“How can we help you, Rarity?” Spike asked.

“Actually,” Rarity responded, slowly, her eyes darting from Spike to Applejack, then to the ground and back. “I was hoping that I could help you.”

“And how’s that?” Applejack asked.

“I was going to ask at the engagement party, but since Twilight appears to be out of town—on some secret rendezvous, as t’were—and the party clearly isn’t going start without her, so I figured, why wait? And—”

“The point, Rarity?” Applejack blew some stray strands of hair out of her eyes and smiled wryly.

“I was just getting to that, Jacqueline,” Rarity rolled her eyes. Oh, Applejack hated being called that. Still, she offered no rebuttal as Rarity finally got to her point. And what a point it was: “I want to make your wedding dress… and Spike’s tuxedo… and the bridesmaids dresses as well. I won’t take no for an answer!”

This was a surprise. Actually, it’s not really, considering who I’m dealing with here, but still…. Applejack was speechless. However, words have a way of being found when they need to be found. Tears accompanies these, Applejack’s reply. “R-Rares… do you mean it?”

“With all my heart, darling, and might I add—oof!” Rarity stood firm, but was soon toppled over by the gleeful Applejack, smiling as tearfully as she was broadly.

Applejack heard Spike’s astonished words, too, “Wow, Rarity… that’s very—”

“Generous, dear?” Rarity replied in between breaths from Applejack’s assault of tight squeezes.

“I was going to say ‘appreciated’ but, yes, generous too.” Spike grinned and gingerly picked Applejack up off Rarity, setting her down.

Rarity stood back up and began dusting herself off. “Well, now that we have all that in order, I best am off. Time equals bits in the business world, after all! Ta-taa!” Rarity hummed cheerfully as she trotted back toward Carousel Boutique.

With a heavy, thankful sigh, Spike and Applejack unlocked the library door and entered its darkened atrium. This, thought Applejack, has been quite the eventful morning.

“Hey, AJ,” Spike called as he rearranged the books from the return bin.

“Hm?” Applejack replied as she dusted the shelves.

“Do you think our days will settle down once we, you know, settle down?”

Applejack spat the feather duster out of her mouth and scratched her chin thoughtfully. Evenly, she said, “Part of me thinks so.”

“And the rest of you?”

“Hm… nah!”

The day pressed on and the farm pony and her drake enjoyed having the library to themselves, at least for a little while.

Darkness pervaded and the stars issued forth under Luna’s potent will. A pair of large, sleek shadows slipped away from the lonely peak overlooking Ponyville and drifted toward the hanging Citadel and her many gardens.

There, they conversed with another shadow.

“I understand your concern, my old friend. But, please understand that your father’s power died with him. By the time he re-entered our lives, you were already an egg… and his soul was bound to her. It is unclear if the binding favours the mortal or the seemingly immortal. She sacrificed herself long before it could be proven, and it took him with her.

He may die with his new wife, or she may live as long as him. We may never know. As his mother, at least on some level, I would wish to spend as much time with him as possible until it becomes certain which way the dice has rolled.”

“We will return, loathe that we may be to leave, but the situation at home is still sensitive. They require our guidance if our dream is to be recognized.”

“Oh, I recognize it, old friend. And I will help you in any way I can. Unsung, though our heroes may be, my sister and I never forget our friends… or our oaths.”

“Be well, Empress.”

“I’m not an Empress anymore.”

“Heh, ‘Princess’ was never a fitting title for you Celestia. One would assume that a Princess—a pony Princess, no less—has no power.”

“If my power resides in my people, then ‘Princess’ is the safest title I can bare. And I bare it proudly.”

“Indeed. Farewell, Celestia. We shall meet again soon.”

“And it will not be soon enough. Fare thee well.”

The shadows took flight, then, into ever-expanding night.

Author's Note

Well, this took a long time.
Point out any errors, because I just finished writing this and it's 4:30 in the morning.

Much love to PropMaster, because he is a brilliant bugger.

Much love to Luminous Lead, since he is also a brilliant bugger

III - Seasaddle the Delivered, Seasaddle the Indebted
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Dutifully Yours

III - Seasaddle the Delivered, Seasaddle the Indebted

Chapter III: Seasaddle the Delivered, Seasaddle the Indebted

//-----------------------------

A heavy golden medal, bound by a red ribbon was raised from a nearby box, followed by another. They were wreathed in the golden aura of Celestia’s magic. One such medal floated over the Twilight and was placed gently around her neck. The other found its way over to Clegmane and settled around his. Cheers erupted.

Clegmane watched as Twilight shifted her hooves and looked at the Princess, who stared back, smiling. Celestia then turned back to look upon her subjects. “Greater decisions have yet to be made, some sooner than others, my precious followers! I assure you that all shall be done in order to provide your continued safety, peace and prosperity! Mayor?”

The Princess had spoken eloquently, Clegmane admitted to himself. She could probably convince half of this city to jump into the Pintocific if she wished it. The thought made him chuckle, only slightly. Still, he watched the crowd wearily, they who now held him and Twilight Sparkle upon on high pedestals. How long will this last? He chanced a glance at the wide-eyed unicorn. By the look on her face, hopefully not long.

He pondered the honour given to him: What does she mean by Protector of the
City? We barely survived the encounter as it as, let alone be able to keep it up, should it happen again. Clegmane cursed under his breath. Celestia willing that never happens again. And yet figured that he, judging by the look on the Princess’ face—unreadable as it was—should be expecting to be disappointed. Discarding me just to prop me back up again, Your Highness? Clegmane wrestled with the notion of smiling at the coincidence or frowning at the reality. A frown would suffice, for it was more becoming, at least to him.

‘Smile, Cleggy,’ his wife would say to him. ‘Don’t let it fade.’ Again, he looked at Twilight’s surprised visage, which refused to relinquish itself. That warrants a bit of a smile, I suppose. He did so and she looked back at him, her surprise melting into… something. He was not sure what, but it felt nice all the same.

Okay, she’s calm, he figured. Now what?”

“Please follow me, you two. We have much to discuss.” The voice of Celestia shook Clegmane out of his stupor as he shook his head. As they walked into the old stone structure, the Princess giggled and said, “It’s not often a Captain of the Royal Guard gets caught in his own world.”

“My world is—was the Guard, Highness,” he said, trying not to sound bitter.

“No, Clegmane,” replied the Princess with an edged tone, looking deep into his good eye. This forced him to visibly shrink, only slightly. “Your world is so much larger than the Guard, which is why I need you and Twilight now more than ever.”

“What does she mean by that?” Twilight whispered into Clegmane’s ear.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” replied Clegmane, clearing his throat. On they walked, deeper into the brightly lit building. The blue velvet rug extended all the way down the hallway and took on a hue of the ocean itself. The carpet’s golden trim reminded him of the coastal sands that he and Vidalia would oft travel upon, settle down for an impromptu picnic, stare at the ever-shifting sky and each other. Warmth rose in his chest, but was suddenly stifled by the chill of the room they followed Celestia into. It was a large conference hall made of oaken walls and black marble flooring. Natural light from an overhead skylight flooded the room with radiance. The source of cold came from the open windows that faced the Pintocific and its mighty gusts of marine wind. Despite the lovely view, the bright light or the classically carved furniture of the conference room, the most captivating presence was the flowing nightscape Princess Luna’s mane. The tall, dark mare sat opposite of the long table, an indescribable look upon her face. Clegmane tried not to stare, but even he was not immune to the wonder, the beauty and the frightening mystery of Luna. Thankfully, she paid him no heed, but instead focused her sight on her regal sister, then to Twilight. Clegmane composed himself as the Royal Sister briefly gazed upon him before returning to Celestia.

When they came to a stop, she finally spoke, saying, “Pray tell, Dearest Sister, that We did not miss too much of thine oration?”

Celestia fixed her sister a bemused grin, “Are you not always far too busy for my public speaking, Sister?”

“We have ears and they function. We need no presence to hear thee speak.” Luna took another glance in Clegmane’s direction; then Twilight’s and said, “It is always a pleasure to greet thee, Twilight Sparkle. And thee, Sir Clegmane, We have heard much of thine bravery and exploits. We pray that thine wounds cause thee little grief.”

Clegmane cleared his throat and bowed so low that his medal clattered heavily onto the marble. “I can still fight, Highness. Nothing shall change that, but I gratefully appreciate the concern. It means the world for a simple stallion to hear the sweet words of his Liege.” He rose and gently levitated the medal off his neck, placing it quietly upon the nearby table.

Luna smiled and turned to Twilight, who bowed as well. “Twilight Sparkle, We wish to extend to thee Our congratulations and our blessing.”

Twilight rose from her bow, Clegmane noted, with a raised eyebrow and confused look. He sniffed with silent amusement. Her expressions are quite fetching, actually, he admitted to himself. “Princess, may I ask what the blessing is?”

Luna looked to her sister. “Being cryptic is supposed to be Our employ, Sister.”

Celestia smiled mischievously. “Well, you’ve confused them, so I would say that you’re still in charge of that department.” Luna frowned, then turned back to Twilight with an apologetic smile.

For almost thirty years, I’ve known nothing but propriety from Princess Celestia and have had very little interaction with Luna over this past year. Yet, I’ve never seen them this relaxed or… common. Clegmane bit his lip in order to maintain his steely composure as Luna spoke on, “Given the nature of this disaster and the presence of a rogue dragon in Equestria, and thine remarkable abilities, We have made arrangement for your concession, should you choose to accept it.”

“An arrangement for what, may I ask?” Twilight cautiously stepped forward.

“And institution, Twilight Sparkle. A place of learning founded by the City of Seasaddle, granted by Regents, and run by you.”

Twilight froze, but Clegmane could see that she was beginning to quake. “An institution?” She asked.

“I call it the Sparkle’s Institution of Magical Education,” Celestia added.

Twilight was quite visibly shaking now, “You want to give me a school of my own? To teach magic?”

“Yes,” replied Luna, “But it would not be any sort of magic, but the advanced spells that thou hast cast in order to safeguard the city. Life-saving magic.”

“B-but, Princess,” Twilight looked pleadingly toward Celestia, whose expression softened for her student. “What about my own education? How can I focus on my own studies about the magic of friendship if I am too busy running my own school?”

Princess Celestia calmly walked up to Twilight and wrapped her great white wings around her student in a gentle embrace. Clegmane felt the warmth of the embrace as Celestia’s mane cast its aura about him as well. All the while, Twilight spoke, saying, “And my friends? I can’t just leave…” her words dropped as if she suddenly realized something. Her expression deepened in its sadness and her voice went so low that Clegmane could barely read them. “But I’ve already left them behind. Spike and Applejack, their engagement party, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Zecora, all of them.”

“I know this is a hard decision, my faithful student.” Celestia cradled Twilight affectionately. “That is why it is a decision, one that you can make now or later, but it wall always be your decision. Regardless, we will support it and find a way to solve all of our problems.”

Clegmane pondered the decision himself. He really had no say in the choice, but he measured the weight of it. Seasaddle was his home now and he recognized the value of Twilight’s institution. Magic like that can only be taught formally and carefully. It would be necessary to stave off another dragon attack, especially from one that might be bound for vengeance. No other beast in the world strove for revenge, Clegmane thought. Save for packs of timber wolves. He shuddered at the thought of being at the mercy of timber wolves, let alone a dragon. Still, he had faced the dragon, had he not? Yes, but he had only survived because of Twilight Sparkle. She was someone he—that Seasaddle—needed to be feel safe and normal again. At least until she could successfully pass her spells on to the next generation and then leave her free to live her life without the danger that he would rather face in her stead.

That I would rather face in her stead…. That being considered, why am I even here if this meeting is about Twilight and her new Institution?

“I-I,” stammered Twilight, “I may need some time to think about this.”

“You have as much time as you need to think over the offer. It will still stand, even if you initially decline, Twilight.” Celestia released her student and nuzzled her affectionately.

Clegmane spoke up, saying, “With your permission, Princesses, Lady Sparkle, I will take my leave and allow you space to consider your choices.” Twilight said nothing, for her gaze appeared distant, pondering.

Celestia broke the embrace her protégé and then turned to face Clegmane. “You may go as you please, Sir. But I request that you not stray too far from this place, or from those whom have found themselves under your protection.” Clegmane resisted the urge to tilt his head and crook his brow. He then saw Twilight, ears drooped and violet eyes pleading as they met his. Clegmane’s heart fell at the glance and he simply stared back. She’s vulnerable, Warhorse, he chided himself. Try not to push her too far away.

“I won’t go far,” he all but whispered. Twilight smiled weakly and nodded. Clegmane did not register Celestia’s unreadable visage, he did not need to or want to. With a stiff bow, he turned to leave.

Out in the corridor, Clegmane found himself standing before an empty wall. It was devoid of any and all decoration: no paintings, no lights, no attempt to cover the lacquered finish of the redwood grain. This was once a plain, simple, once-grand and infallible tree. He stared at what remained of it. How much time had it taken for this specimen to grow and rise above all others before it was felled and formed? How long had it served its purpose before being turned into this old building? How long wold it before the powers that be decide to tear it down, discard it and replace it wholesale? Would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?

It was just a wall, alone among other, worthier walls. But, he liked this wall because it was honest and unafraid of its nakedness. Unafraid? Of course! It was simply a wall and nothing more: a necessity of this greater structure. The dark red wood, as far as Clegmane could tell, had been recently cleaned and polished to a mirror sheen: he almost saw his face in it, grey and worn. Then, a dark aura overtook his reflection and a cold, wispy stars cape billowed behind him. Despite her silver shoes, Clegmane did not hear the Princess of the Night approach him.

Her strong voice followed her reflection. “As for thee, Sir Clegmane,” the warhorse shot back to his rigid posture, despite the protest of his aching muscles. Clearly, he thought, the spotlight isn’t quite finished with me. He contained an inward groan. Luna continued, “As much as thou wish it were, this honour does not fall exclusively to Twilight.”

“Highness?” Clegmane asked cautiously.

Luna replied, “Thou hast shown great vigilance and determination in facing the dragon, Sir Clegmane. Do not think that because thou art retired that thou art permitted to rest just yet! We require thine courage, Clegmane. We require it to inspire this frightened, angry city to stand on its own and be taught the skill it requires to defend itself.”

“Are my Princesses requiring my services?” Clegmane asked Luna evenly, directly, though he did not look at her.

“Yes, Clegmane. Alone, thou stood for hours against the dragon. We need thee to teach the ponies of this city to do the same, because We can assure thee, Sir, that the beast will return.”

Clegmane’s throat tightened a bit. “Somehow,” he said in a low, steady voice, “I am not surprised.”

“A stallion in thine position hath surely seen much in order to be so steadfast. We can appreciate how very little can daunt thee.”

“With respect, Highness,” Clegmane chuckled. “I take that as a compliment from an immortal such as yourself.” Luna offered a light laugh, soft as a nightingale song.

“What would you have your soldier do?” Clegmane asked.

“We would have thee stay with Twilight Sparkle, remain at her side and train the students at her school in the martial arts thou hast employed against the drake.”

Clegmane frowned. “And are we assuming that Twilight will simply abandon her life in Ponyville?” The heat rose in the warhorse’s cheeks. How presumptuous! Even for an immortal! Perhaps being up on the moon has stymied her perceptions on reasonable expectation. It appears that the Nightmare may still yet be among us.

Luna gently shook her head. Clegmane could see that she was watching his frown. He decided to level it. Nightmare or not, she is still my Princess and I must concede. “I can see that you do not approve.” Her voice was even, though lacking in royal weight. “I would cite regulation and the unquestioning duty of Sirs of the Guard, by I can see why you truly disapprove.” A wry smile formed on the corner of the dark Princess’ mouth. Clegmane’s eye widened. Is she speaking in commons?

“You care for her, don’t you?” She asked.

“I beg pardon?” Clegmane replied.

“Twilight Sparkle. You care for her.” Luna’s smile did not fade. “I was born for the night, Sir Clegmane, but I was not born last night. Why else would you frown so deeply at my supposed assumptions? Why else would she have come here if she did not care for you in turn?”

“She is an old friend, My Princess. I have known her since she was a filly.” Clegmane stood straight and faced his Princess. “I wished for her friendship and I ask no more. I never will.”

“And if she does?” Luna’s shimmering blue eyes stared intently into his.

“If I may, Highness,” Clegmane began cautiously.

“You may.” She waved her graceful hoof.

“I am a decade her senior!” he harshly whispered for fear of permeation through the doors.

“Granted, Sir, but my question still stands.” Luna pressed.

“I…” I don’t know.

The door behind them creaked open and the conversation was over. Clegmane breathed a sigh of relief. Twilight stepped out of the conference room with Celestia following closely behind her. Luna turned her focus onto her sister and Twilight walked slowly toward Clegmane. Her purple eyes were uncertain, though her face warmed when it met his. He did his best to ignore the heat that threatened to overrun his cheeks. Instead, he asked, calmly, “Is everything all right?”

She sighed, “I’ve decided to write my friends back in Ponyville. I need their words, since I don’t seem to trust my own right now.” With a flare of her horn, she illuminated the flap of her saddlebag and retrieved a quill, some bottled ink and a roll of parchment. Clegmane gave her a look and she noticed. With a weak grin, Twilight said, “I never leave home without them.”

That can’t be true, Clegmane wondered, but then shrugged it off. No big concern if she does or not. One would think that I’d notice these things about a mare I’ve know almost her whole life. That notion made the warhorse quiver. Celestial bodies, I’m old.

“Can… can you help me write it, Clegmane?” Asked Twilight. Clegmane looked at the young mare, then to Celestia, who nodded in approval. He hesitated, but then quickly glanced to Luna. Her eyes betrayed her, perhaps to her choosing, as a sly grin spread across her face. He then brought his amber eye to bear upon Twilight once more, her eyes were pleading, lost.

“If you think I can be of use, Miss Sparkle, then I would be happy to oblige.”

What Clegmane once thought was Twilight’s weakest grin suddenly erupted into a flourished, grateful smile. “Thank you!” she squealed, surging toward him and quickly nuzzling his cheek. Before Clegmane could stammer a welcome, Twilight turned about face and disappeared into the conference room, quill and parchment behind her. The ink well, on the other hoof, was lost to the magical lavender aura and fell toward the floor. Before the ground could purchase the bottle, a silvery blue hue surrounded it. Luna wordlessly passed the well to Clegmane and dropped it into his own green grasp. He then followed Twilight into the room with his new charge bobbing in the air before him. With a soft click, the doors behind him shut and… locked? Clegmane rolled his eye. It would take him the rest of his life to even begin to understand the machinations of Princess Celestia’s energetic sister. Standing at a nearby table, Twilight appeared to have realized her little oversight as her eye caught the ink suspended well. She reached out with her magic once again and grasped the bottle. That was when Clegmane felt the electrical pulse down is horn and travel along the length of his spine. Twilight’s soft gasp told him that she had felt it to. Their aura’s swirled, but did not mix. Magic was like that, especially interacting magical fields. It produced different effects for the wielders. Most were barely noticeable while others were quite painful. A few were subtle and even fewer were pleasant. Clegmane was not sure how to feel. He watched Twilight shake her head and quickly place the objects on the table. The ink toppled over, but the spill was stayed for the lacquered cork.

“Lousy inkwell…” Clegmane heard Twilight mutter. He simply chuckled. She shyly looked over to him and asked, “Shall we begin?”

“I admit that I’ve only ever spoken to your friend Lady Applejack, and Master Spike, of course,” Clegmane said, rubbing the back of is neck. “As for your other friends, I don’t know how I can be of any more help.”

“It’s alright, Clegmane,” replied Twilight as she spread the scroll and readied the quill. “Just you being here is helping immensely.” She cleared her throat and began writing, dictating as she did so:

“My Dearest Friends,
First, let me apologize for having to leave so quickly, especially after having Spike back to the world of the waking! Spike, I know I told you that I would be back in time to properly celebrate your and AJ’s engagement. It means the world to me to see you two so happy. However, you have likely heard by now about what’s befallen Seasaddle. And yes, the rumours are true: a dragon caused it, one from the siege, most likely. Please know that I am safe for the moment and that I am here with Captain Clegmane who helped to save the city in the first place! Because of what’s happened and what we’ve done, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have asked us to stay and prepare the city for another attack. I don’t know how long that will take and I am very nervous. I need to hear from you guys before too long. We may even need to assemble, for all I know. All I do know is that our fellow ponies are in trouble and I need to help them. Any generous words of kindness, honesty, or loyalty to offer? Hay, a laugh would do me some good, too! I’ll take the lot if possible.

I’m sorry that I cannot be there for you, Spike. I hope you can forgive me.

Your friend,
Twilight Sparkle.

P.S.: Spike, please be sure to thank your parents for me. I’m glad they were kind enough to explain your condition to us. Regardless, I hope what they said is not entirely true… for their sakes. They’ve waited a long time to see you again. I wouldn’t want that time cut short if I was in their shoes… not that dragons wear shoes… you know what I mean!”

At that, Twilight lifted the quill and gently blew on ink to dry it. Satisfied, she rolled up the parchment and tied it off with a red ribbon.

“Better?” Asked Clegmane.

“Worlds.” She smiled and levitated the scroll above her head.

“Question,” he began. Twilight glanced back to him, waiting. “Did you say that Spike and Lady Applejack—assuming that is what ‘AJ’ refers to—are… engaged? Not just together?”

“Thanks right,” replied Twilight without skipping a beat.

“Hm,” was all that Clegmane allowed himself to say.

“The heart wants what it wants, right?” Twilight said, uncertainly now trailing in her voice.

“Indeed.” Clegmane sighed inwardly and could swear that Twilight was doing the same. Before too long, Twilight opened the door and saw the pair of princesses standing, waiting patiently for her return.

“Are you ready to send it?” Celestia asked.

“Yes, Princess,” replied Twilight with a light nod. In an instant, the scroll became wreathed in light, then vanished into nothingness.

“How do you feel?” asked Celestia.

“Ready to begin.” Twilight flashed a nervous, yet determined smile. Clegmane found this rather fetching and he could not help but smile with her.

“And thee, Sir Clegmane?” Asked a knowing Princess Luna.

“If Miss Sparkle is ready, then so am I.”

“Good,” replied both Princesses in unison.

Once outside, Clegmane heard the voice of Mayor Coffee Bean as it pervaded the still-present and ever-growing crowd. Lines of firefighter ponies, local militia, paramedics and small local heroes had been given various awards and speeches to commemorate their sacrifices in the disaster. It was clear to Clegmane that, while noble, these ceremonies served the dual purpose of also biding time to announce Twilight Sparkle’s decision and the fate of her institution. Clever, he thought. The ponies cheered the return of their sovereigns and the Mayor concluded his latest speech with a bow before surrendering the podium to Celestia.

“Thank you for your patience, my little ponies!” announced Celestia. “Please turn your attention to the Protectors of the City, for they have agreed to a most noble deed. In facing the ferocious dragon, they have gained what we standing here could not: experience! As such, their experience shall prove instrumental in bringing order to this chaos and justice to this fugitive dragon! However, there can be no limited measure of caution that can be taken in order to prevent further events from transpiring! As such, I, Princess Celestia, by unanimous decision of my Dear Sister and the municipality of Seasaddle Government do also declare the founding of the Sparkle Institute for Magical Education. Wherein my most faithful student shall from henceforth and with capable hooves educate the next generation of unicorns in the ways of emergency magic, in all forms.”

All eyes fell to Twilight then, Clegmane noted. Some fell upon him as well, but he ignored them. He watched her shrink from the attention, blushing as her ears perked. Hm, thought Clegmane, the Sparkle Institute for Magical Education. It has a nice ring to it. And yet, I have a hoof in it, somehow. His eyes swept across the ponies who flooded the streets. Look at them, he sneered. Tightly packed, blocking all avenues of escape - a killbox waiting to happen. One breath and that damned dragon could make a buffet out of all of them. “Civilians…”he muttered to himself.

“As for any physical combat that may arise,” Celestia announced, changing the subject, “I turn your attention to the spectacle of Royal Guard achievement, Sir Clegmane, former Captain of the Guard!” Now it was his turn to blush as all eyes found his tall grey figured standing close to Twilight, his fellow Protector. “Sir Clegmane,” continued the Princess, “as you can see, has given much to Seasaddle already, and for this, we are thankful. Now we must honour his sacrifices by adhering to his instruction and following his lead, just as my soldiers have for many years. Seasaddle, rest assured that your training is in capable hooves!”

Capable hooves, she says, Clegmane grumbled. I’m half blind, sore all over and I barely survived that encounter that is supposedly now my legacy. Tartarus belay that legacy. He gave his head a little shake to dispel the notion. Square that noise away, solider. You’re doing this for more reasons than your own. He looked at Twilight, who offered an encouraging smile. He smiled back. Seeing her young visage so focused on him stirred his memory: of his home on the hilltop, of the fresh-faced pony in the picture frame. His heart warmed and smile did not fade. I guess I should be thankful, especially for you, Twilight Sparkle. He could admit this to himself, but not to her. Not yet. She had plenty of manure headed her way that he felt it prudent to keep his trap shut as he was trained to do. That suited him just fine.

The speeches ended, the sun was high and the school was born. Such was the high noon of this Seasaddle day. For the ponies of this city, there was much to celebrate. For the saviors of the city, there remained much to do. Clegmane walked with Twilight to rejoin the Princesses, both of whom were taking the time to meet and congratulate each of the heroic service ponies personally. Mayor Coffee Bean, however, made his way toward them and Clegmane felt his fur bristle. The glint in the mayor’s eye was not lost to him. No, not to half-blind Clegmane, he was sure of that! The mayor gave a curt nod to him, which he did not return. The politician then turned to Twilight, who seemed, naively so, to take better to him.

“It gladdens me greatly to know that the Protectors of the City will remain to continue with their vaunted protection.” The mayor offered a well-rehearsed grin before bowing his head low to Twilight. He then reached out with his grey wing and gently raised one of her hooves up to his lips before planting a tender kiss upon it. The hoof was down, which left Twilight blushing furiously at the sudden display and who mumbled a some thanks. Coffee Bean furled his wing back and flashed a toothy smile in Clegmane’s direction. The warhorse ground his teeth. It was all he could do in order to keep his own hooves planted and his horn from flaring. Leave it, Clegs, he scolded himself. He’s actively trying to push your buttons now. Be stoic. Be the captain you are! His eye remained hard on the grey pegasus, a fact that stirred his bodyguards, all of whom were standing well out of the reach of Clegmane’s limbs. Smart, he thought, counting the muscle. Four visible guards, he mused. Could be more in the shadows, too. Seasaddle thugs learn fast, apparently. Must be the abundance of oxygen down here in these river valleys. He chanced a glance toward the purple mountains to the East. Canterlot seemed so far away now, its heights staggering even to him. The mayor broke the silence that clung to him. “And you, my former captain of the Royal Guard, seem to have found yourself in command once again, albeit of studious unicorns who need to throw some muscle behind their new spells.”

Clegmane said nothing beyond a simple grunt. A single hair came out of place on the mayor’s dark, well-slicked mane. He continued nonetheless and much to Clegmane’s distain. “I should like to celebrate our newfound Protectors and their achievements by having them as my honored guests for a luncheon with City Council. The Princesses will be joining us, of course!”

Guests to nest full of vipers, I can pass on, brooded Clegmane. However, to leave Twilight to their non-existent mercy? Unacceptable! I just want to go home for the rest of the day, but not before I see Miss Sparkle delivered safely from this lot. Now, how to do it…

“I appreciate your offer, Mayor,” replied Twilight, “but, I think I’ll just head back to my hotel. Hopefully my reservation still stands.”

Clever girl. Clegmane smiled inwardly. She can handle herself well enough, so I guess she won’t need me.

“Ah yes, the Stable Hotel, correct?” Coffee Bean asked.

Twilight was clearly taken aback. “Um, y-yes! How did you—”

“Lucky guess, I suppose.” The stallion chuckled. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter, since I’ve taken the liberty of reserving a room for each you at the Delta Chivalry, on my bit, of course!”

“The Delta? You mean The Delta?” Twilight nearly gasped. Clegmane’s own dour expression also gave way to the mildest of surprise. The Delta Chivalry was the most prestigious hotel chain in Equestria, rivaling the very best of Canterlot short of the Palace itself. Yet, here he was, being offered a room for no charge. He held his breath and glanced to the East. Between the tall structures and chimneys, he saw it: Oignon Downs, upon the hilltop overlooking Seasaddle. There’s my bivouac, he sighed. The only slice of heaven I’ve truly known.

He looked back at the mayor, dead in the eye. “I appreciate the generous offer, Mayor Bean, but I will pass on both the luncheon and the room and take my leave back home. I will inform the Princesses and be on my way. Again, thank you.” He turned to leave.

“Pardon me, Sir Clegmane, but is home for you not that dreadful eyesore upon the Eastern hill? Surely, I can convince you to stay at the Delta with Miss Sparkle? I certainly wouldn’t wish for her to stay in an abandoned old manor such as that. Furthermore, I would not wish for one of Seasaddle’s saviors to live in such squalor!” Clegmane stopped, but did not turn around. “Granted that the district lines fall short of that tumbled-down old shack, otherwise would have endeavored to have it condemned myself.”

That ‘shack’ is my home… Clegmane’s throat clenched and his muscles burned. That shack was my family’s home—my wife’s last remaining memory. Heat rose up to his forehead, threatening to boil over. Though none could see it, mighty Clegmane the Steadfast was shaking with anger. Give me a reason to turn around and find my spear, pegasus.

“Oignon Downs sounds pretty cozy, actually,” said Twilight, cheerfully. Quietly, she trotted up to Clegmane and stood next to him. Through the periphery of his left eye, he watched her come to him. At once, his shaking hooves steadied and he became steadfast once more. His rage cooled when he saw the little smile she offered him. He accepted it without hesitation. She asked, then, “Would you mind it terribly if I stayed at the Downs? It’s out of the way and I’ve gotten too used to the open spaces of Ponyville to be able to study effectively in the city anyway.” Her little smile grew into a pleading grin, unrehearsed and, to him, simply adorable. Clegmane the Steadfast, bargained down by an attractive young unicorn mare. He gave a rasped, defeated chuckle which only served to widen her grin. To his credit, he thought, this particular (and peculiar) mare was the most gifted practitioner of magic he had ever met. Otherwise, he might have had to think about letting anyone stay at his place. Without looking back, Clegmane walked with Twilight to see the Princesses and take their leave. The warhorse held no desire to glance over his shoulder, but took some pleasure in knowing that the sleazy mayor did not have his way. That idea alone was worth the fact that he had not yet purchased any groceries to stock the pantry in order to accommodate his newfound guest. Oh well, he thought. We have all day.

Orange pastels flooded the sky above Oignon Downs. Clegmane reached out with his magic and turned the doorknob that lead into to his old home. Around him, a solar system of grocery bags and bundles of other objects orbited, wreathed in the glow of his aura. Ugh, he thought. I can’t believe how long it took us to ‘get a few things,’ he frowned. I think we can withstand another dragon siege… and house refugees with all these so-called provision. He chided himself for complaining, though. Clegmane had a swollen deposit account from his years of service. And, having no one to spend it on, it barely even registered the day’s transactions. Regardless, he stepped aside and held his little planets steady as he nodded in Twilight’s direction. With a returning nod, she and her own system of bundles silently drifted past him and into the main foyer. He followed her into the house and closed the door behind him. Gently, he set all of his bags down. He wondered why Twilight had not done the same. When he glanced at her, he figured out why. Her mouth hung open and her expression, much like her mentor, was nigh unreadable. Or, at least it would have been unreadable if her eyes did not betray the wonder they held.

“Wow,” Twilight managed to eventually say.

“Yes, Miss Sparkle, it’s a little older than what I’m sure you’re used to and not to mention that it is a bit of a fixer-upper.” Shut up, Clegs, you’re talking to too much. “Not to mention that I only just moved in—”

“It’s beautiful.” Twilight softly interrupted him, her violet eyes wide wonder.

Clegmane felt his ears twitch. Did she really just compliment this old ragged house? He continued to stare at her as she graced the foyer with her approving gaze. He shifted uneasily and offered a glance back towards the full bags sitting at his doorway. At once, he cleared his throat, stirring Twilight out of her stupor. “Perhaps, Miss Sparkle, we should get this food into the pantry before it decides to spoil on us.” He allowed himself to chuckle lightly as she glanced back at him, the wonderment not quite leaving her eyes.

“Oh, right.” Twilight blushed as she levitated her share of the bags and he instinctively trotted past the grand staircase and into the hallway at its the left. Clegmane did the same in carried his charge into the kitchen after her.

The Downs had been all but abandoned over the past decade. It was only during Clegmane’s rare times off duty that he would take that time to visit the empty manor. Only then, did it receive any measure of attention or care. Often, he was alone, with nothing but the vastness of the manor’s halls to accompany him. During these sporadic visits, his presence was often wreathed in silence; save for whatever noise he was producing at the time. Today, however, was not one of those days. For the first time in many years, the halls filled with laughter, the din of voices, and the warmth of the familiar. Clegmane sat at the head of the long table within the dining hall. With empty plates and used cutlery about him, he sighed with satisfaction. A great deal of that satisfaction was given by the meal that he so enjoyed. But, a significant amount of that satisfaction had been given to him not by food, but by the company that shared in its consumption. Normally, an honored guest of the Oignon Downs would be offered the seat opposite to him at the opposing head of the table. Miss Sparkle, much to his surprise, had respectfully declined such a seat in favor of placing herself at his right hoof. It was something, she said, about not having to talk over ten chairs across the room. Clegmane did not object. Eventually, their conversation withered, though Twilight’s smile lost none of its warmth. She looked onto him for a long, silent moment and still her smile did not wane. Clegmane realized that he was doing the same.

“So, tell me, Sir Clegmane the Steadfast,” Twilight sighed, resting her head on her crossed hooves. “How does a senior officer of the Royal Guard also pass for decent chef?”

“Mess duty will teach you a thing or two about how to handle one's self in the kitchen, Miss Sparkle.” She giggled. At that, Clegmane ushered forth his levitation spell and from a nearby cabinet, pulled an aged bottle of wine. As he brought it to his hooves, he wiped the layers of dust from its label and read, “Château de Chassefilli.” He scrutinized the date printed on the bottom of the label and said, “Fifty-four. Good year.”

“My, my, Sir Clegmane,” said Twilight. “An officer and a gentlecolt, a cook, a speaker a foreign tongues, and a wine connoisseur.” She clicked her tongue and continued, “Quite the curriculum vitae.”

Clegmane levitated the bottle between both of them and Twilight nodded in approval, raising her glass. As he poured the dark red fluid, it's sharp scent wafted into the air. He spoke once more when both of their glasses were full. “I would hesitate to call myself the speaker foreign tongues, Miss Sparkle. And, I honestly know little else about wine other than reading a label and discarding the bottle when it's empty.” She giggled again and for he levitated the glass before him and she did the same.

“To your new school, Miss Sparkle.”

“To our new school, Sir Clegmane,” Twilight corrected.

Fair enough, he thought.

The soft ting of their toast complemented the strong scent of the wine.

Night fell quickly over the Downs. The moon peeked its rising face out over the mountains, shining its pale light upon nearby Seasaddle. Clegmane stood alone upon the second floor balcony overlooking the Pintocific. Despite the majestic view that spread out in front of him, Clegmane’s thoughts drifted back inside where he left Twilight to her studies and to the creation of a syllabus that she intended to instruct from. She was shaking when he left her. Maybe the wine will help calm her down, he wondered. But, not too much-she needs to be in prime condition for the big day tomorrow.

What about you, old-timer? Need more wine to convince you to go back in there and forget about this beautiful scenery? Clegmane ignored his own quip and rubbed the flesh beneath his eye patch. Damn it, he cursed. The Doc told me not to rub it, but Seven Tartari, it’s irritating!

“Does it hurt?” a small voice carried along the gentle oceanic breeze. Clegmane turned all the way around, given the new blind spot to see Twilight standing in the doorway.

He sighed heavily and replied, “No, it doesn’t. Itches though.”

“That’s just the healing process,” she remarked plainly. “It’ll pass in a few days.”

“Only a few days?” Clegmane quietly scoffed. “I just want to numb half of my face and call it a night.”

“Oh, I know you’ve dealt with worse, Clegmane.” Twilight chuckled hollowly.

He yielded. “Yes, Miss Sparkle, I have.” Then there was silence.

Clegmane watched as Twilight blinked and her brow furrowed. Uh-oh, he thought. “Earlier today, after the meeting with the Princesses, you called me Twilight. Why resort to formalities?”

Resort? Clegmane blinked, thought Twilight continued, “I’ve let it slide until now, but do I need to remind you that you are more than welcome to call me Twilight?”

“I understand, Miss Sparkle.” Clegmane steeled his face, preparing for Sisters know what wrathful chest he had opened.

A fire ignited in her eyes then. Clegmane took a step back, feeling the heat of her blood as it seemed to boil over. Was that smoke I saw just now? He wondered.

“Is that so, Sir Clegmane the Steadfast?” Twilight shook with frustration. “You do not take a mare into your beautiful home, make her dinner, treat her to wine and then refuse to call her by her first name as if that’s how it’s supposed to be!”

Clegmane narrowed his good eye and regarded his guest levelly. “And how is it supposed to be, Miss Twilight?”

“Just call me Twilight, Clegmane.”

“As I recall, Miss Twilight, you had forsaken a five-star hotel to follow me here and, as a guest in this house and as the Princess’ designate, one would think that you would have the manners to abide by the housemaster’s wishes.”

A flicker of flame sparked to life at the base of Twilight’s tale and mane. “Follow?” she seethed indignantly. “You could have refused, you know?”

“I could have, yes. Somehow, I doubt it would have stopped you.”

“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Clegmane.”

“I never pretended I did, Miss Twilight.” Clegmane sighed. “You’re a total mystery to me, which is probably why—” He stopped.

“Why… what?” The flame died in Twilight’s mane and tail, the fury in her eyes replaced with their familiar academic hunger. Clegmane breathed heavily, relieved at the lack of apparent spontaneous combustion.

“Never mind.” Clegmane looked away and turned to face the ocean once again.

“Clegmane…” he could feel her reaching out to him.

“Please, Twilight,” he whispered, his good eye stung against the gentle oceanic breeze. Silence was all that he received in return, but he could tell that Twilight was just standing there, watching him. Then, something struck him and the sting vanished. “We’re have a visitor.”

A sharp knocking at the front door startled Twilight. Clegmane gently brushed past her and drifted through the threshold and down the stairs toward the front door. As he opened the heavy wooden portal, a tall figure met him. Dark fur, webbed wings and amber eyes met his own. Silver armour shone in the moonlight and gleaming white fangs smiled at him. The creature offered a crisp salute and Clegmane twitched, quickly stalling himself before he returned it. He sighed and said, “There is no need to salute me, soldier.”

The Night Guard flashed another smile and replied, saying, “You will always be our Captain, my Captain. Shining Armour sends his regards and admiration.” Clegmane slowly nodded as the guard handed him a message from his saddlebag. It was a white piece of rolled parchment, bound by the Royal Seal of the Pony Sisters. “For the Element of Magic, sir,” the guard reported. “I was informed that she was bunking here for the evening?”

Clegmane noticed and did not appreciate the glint in the Guard’s eye. He eyed the messenger, who began quickly straightened up and extinguished the glint. He winced when Clegmane took a step forward, his nose pressed against the young guard’s. “Lock your assumptions down, Private. Miss Sparkle is an honoured guest and esteemed colleague in this house, understand?”

“Sir, yes sir!” the guard squeaked. Clegmane took the scroll from the messenger’s quivering grasp and stepped back.

“Thank you, Private. To your other duties.”

“Sir!” The guard offered another salute, which Clegmane again did not return. With a burst of air, the guard took off and returned to Seasaddle and to Clegmane figured was going to be a long shift.

“What’s that?” Asked Twilight who teleported down to him in a flash of light.

Clegmane watched the guard leave, but nonetheless passed the scroll to her. “Message from the Princess.”

“Oh!” Twilight gasped and greedily took the scroll from his aura. Clegmane felt electricity course through his spine and heard her shudder as well. Slowly, he closed the door and listened to Twilight recite:

“Dear Twilight: Hey, it’s Spike, writing back—Clegmane, Spike wrote back!” she exclaimed happily.

“Hm.” Clegmane replied.

Twilight read on, “I’m sorry that it took all day to get back to you, but I had to gather the girls, since we’re all busy… you know how it is. Plus, things have gotten a little… off here. Anyway, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. I’m writing this as AJ, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash are here to congratulate you on your success! Naturally, we’re all surprised and happy for you. AJ and I wish that we could have you back sooner, but we can always have the engagement party later on. Or, as Pinkie suggested—HITWILIGHTIT’SPINKIEPIEWENEEDTOCOMEVISITANDHAVEADUALCONGRATULATIONSPARTY—Sorry, Twi, but this is the seventh draft and Pinkie will not be contained, so just ignore that outburst. So, instead of waiting for you to come back, we’re all headed out to see you and help in any way we can, plus maybe throw our celebration there by the ocean? AJ really wants to see it, since she’s already seen the Coltlantic by Manehatten. So yeah, a big ‘Hi!’ from all of us, and a big ‘See you soon!’ as we’ll all be arriving together early this week via Pony Express.

Best of luck to you and your new school! It’s all for a good cause.

Love,
Your friends.”

Twilight finished reading the letter and Clegmane watched as a wide grin spread across her face. “My friends are coming here! Yes!” she squeaked. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” She began mirthfully bouncing around in happy little circles about the foyer. Clegmane could not resist the urge to smile, even if it was only slightly. Twilight appeared to be too joyous to notice anyway, he figured.

Quietly, he ascended the stairs and was sure to grab the unfinished bottle of wine on his way up. When he returned to the balcony, he raised the bottle up and turned it over, allowing a steady stream of wine to pour out onto the grass floor below. To your health, my love. Clegmane glanced up at the sky and brought the bottle to his lips. The breeze turned up from the surrounding fields, carrying with it the subtle scent of onions, which caressed his nose. He ran a bare hoof through his dark, tussled mane, running the tip of his hoof around the band that held the eye patch firmly against his face. I’m not quite there yet, so, please be patient. Something nipped at the back of his mind, telling him that she would have to be.

Not yet, Clegmane the Steadfast. You’ve got a program to run and a unicorn to protect. He frowned.

Smile, the winds whispered. Don’t let it fade from the world.

He shivered once, then shook his head. Without a word or a thought, he then turned to go back inside, leaving the empty bottle and the scent of onions behind him.