Across the moonlit sands Night Light walked, cloaked and hooded against the cold and coming sun, a shield upon his back embossed with his cutie mark set against a blued metal cosmos. Several constant days had been his journey, but steady still his gait and steeled his golden eyes, unflinching even as from the sky a terrible winged hulk of scale and flame crashed before him. In the waning sandstorm Night Light peered up and locked stares with the glowing gaze of the dragon. “Well that's fortunate,” he said, “I was afraid I'd be outside your lair before you took notice.”
The dragon lowered her head, a hot blast of air from her nostrils blowing away the curtain of sand between the two. The comely curve of her features defined haughty. “Nothing beneath me escapes my gaze, little pony, and I deem precious few things worthy of my attention. Your persistence has earned you a place as one such.”
Night Light nodded absently. “I’m flattered, but –”
“Tell me, little pony,” she interrupted, lowering her head further and coiling part-way around him, inspecting Night Light as if he were a piece of meat, “what drove one such as you so far afield of safety? And, oh!” Her eyes twinkled as they fell upon the masterfully crafted shield he carried. “What, oh what, is this?” She giggled as girlishly as a massive beast might. “A gift, perhaps? Are you smitten with me? I could hardly blame you.”
“It is for you,” said Night Light, feigning a laugh that quickly died, “but not in the way you’re thinking. And I’m happily married, thank you –”
The dragon gave a mock pout and shrugged. “Oh, that’s rather a shame! But I don’t suppose things could have worked between us even so, size differences and all that. So, why have you been trailing me?”
“I was just getting to that.” He plopped himself down on his haunches, unlatched his shield and casual as can be propped himself up against it. “My wife, Velvet, wanted to visit the border of the Badlands for our anniversary, you see; hoped to see a few of the larger dragons while we were there. She’s a bit of an adrenaline nut like that.” A smile unbidden perked up Night Light’s face, and he chuckled. “Anyway, while we were hiking from vantage to vantage the little necklace she keeps her wedding ring on must have snapped and she lost it. One of us had to get back home – tend the garden, the lawn, replace any spoiled food, all of that – so I promised her I’d stay behind and find it.”
The dragon rested her massive head against her clawed hand. “And I suppose you think I must have taken it, then?”
“I know you did.” An undercurrent of violence rippled beneath Night Light’s pleasant voice, missed entirely by the dragon. “Most ponies, really most creatures in general, don’t look up often. It was a big problem for the non-Pegasus forces of the Royal Guard, what with all the flying creatures everywhere; an aerial attack might slip right by us and we’d be none-the-wiser! So one of the first things we’re trained to do is look up.”
The dragon had been using this time to inspect the sword-like talons of her other claw, paying only scant attention to the pony’s words. “Fascinating –”
“Enough!” Night Light shouted, so loud it echoed even across the dunes. Ire hardened his face, and he pointed a condemnatory hoof at the fiend. “I saw your claw marks on the ground where she dropped it, and when I looked up I caught you flapping away! Now, cough it up before I have to make you.”
Night Light’s outburst took the dragon aback, her glowing eyes wide with surprise. “Oh,” was all she could muster at that instant, but she was quick to shake herself free of shock and retake her regal air. “I admit, I may have eaten your wife’s, er – was it a ring or necklace? – ah, ring, yes. You’re a bold one, though, and I admire that, so I believe you’ve earned an apology, and mercy.” She leaned in, eyes smugly shut, and, with faux sincerity, lilted, “I’m sorry.”
She opened her eyes and made to bid him run along, just in time to see a blur of steel and golden magic clang against the side of her face like a slap from a mountain. The force of it caused her to flip her coiled body onto its other side. Swiftly she righted herself and outspread her wings, reared her high head back and, the rumble of her chest shivering the sands at her indignity, glared murder down at the diminutive pony.
Night Light stood his ground, a dour frown on his face, eyes of steeled gold cast in shadow ‘neath his brow, mane whipping with the wind. “Give me the ring,” he demanded.
Snarling hate and rage, the dragon bellowed a gout of fire down upon him just as he brought up his shield. Sand turned to glass under her flames, and her heat scorched all that lay a good distance beyond it. Smoke billowed up and away in great plumes. At length she stopped, breathless, blackened air slinking out, up and away from her searing maw. She looked to where the pony had been.
There lay a frozen wave of molten glass spikes, black and angry red where it remained to be cooled. The dragon blew a victorious puff of smoke from her nostrils. She was about to leave when from the ruin there came the familiar chime of magic. In horror, she turned.
At the heart of the blast beneath a shell of volcanic glass a golden sphere shone, the very sight setting the dragon’s pupils aquiver. She balked as it waxed, cowed as it burst suddenly and there stood the pony, cloak in tatters, black here and there with soot, but otherwise whole.
Instinct took over. She flapped her wings and issued a piercing shriek, readied to leave. Out spiraled a tether of magic from Night Light, and fast tangled around her wings before she could get far. Down, down she crashed, the earth quaking, quailing at the force of the impact. Night Light rode his shield down the field of super-heated glass, leapt from it onto the sand, and hastened to her, pounding hooves trailing a storm of dust.
Up rose the dragon’s head from the new crater just as Night Light lunged forward, shield reared back, teeth clenched, to press the attack. She lurched onto her back and put up her claws to cover her face against the strike she knew was coming. But never did.
Cautiously she lowered her guard, gaze flicking this way and that in desperate quest to find the little monster she’d roused before he found her. And there he was, standing on her lightly scaled belly, face as stern as only a father could muster. The dragon’s heart raced.
Night Light glared a legion of swords. “Ready to cooperate?” She was quick to nod, and quicker to cough up the ring she’d eaten when he’d stretched out his hoof in wordless demand. Covered in scalding dragon spit and soot, Night Light could only grin ear-to-ear and press the small golden loop gleefully to his chest. Returned was the politeness from before, and he looked down at the cowed dragon with a gratitude all too genuine. “Oh, Sisters,” he said, falling onto her chest to give her as much of a hug as he could, “thank you! I was getting tired, and I have a long walk home.”
“Uh…” Through the dragon’s mind ran the strangest mix of adrenaline, confusion and unexpected warmth. Shakily she brought one massive claw down and patted Night Light carefully on the back. “Don’t… don’t mention it?”
“No, really, I appreciate it,” he said, and hoisted himself back up. “Well, I better get going.” And like that he hopped from her belly and began again his long march.
A pang of something faint, almost forgotten, rattled about in the dragon’s molten heart, and she looked over the edge of the crater at the departing pony. Brow furrowed, mouth curling up and down in a mix of emotions, she spoke. “So you’re… just going to walk?”
Night Light looked back with as sure a smile as ever. “That’s the plan.”
The dragon was lost for words, but not for lack of struggling and straining her face to find them. “I could,” she began haltingly, “maybe… fly you… back…?” She bared her razor maw as the last word left her, smiling back as well as she could.
Night tilted his head just so, eyes placidly shut. “I wouldn’t want to impose after all that.” He turned the rest of the way around to face her properly as he spoke. “Besides, don’t you have somewhere you’ve got to be?”
She laid her head upon the cool sand over the crater’s edge. “Just my lair for a nap,” she said, “but I suppose it can wait.”
Night Light approached her, brows weighed down by empathy. “Nopony back home waiting for you?”
“Nopony,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “No one else, either. Dragons aren’t much for that.”
“Well, I think that’s a shame,” Night Light said, “but I know Velvet would be ecstatic to see you. We’ve got some tea around, too, if you’d like.”
The dragon winced and sucked her teeth. “We don’t really drink tea, either.”
“Gems, then? Got barrels full of them, favors from my tenure as Captain.”
The smile on the dragon’s face was small, but genuine. “What kind?”
“Diamonds mostly,” Night answered, “some pink, some black, most white; emeralds, sapphires, rubies, moonstones, and so on.” He saw her mouth start to water as he rattled off his short list and smirked. “Really, it’s the least I could do. Consider it an apology for the scuffle. Interested?”
She was quick to wipe her maw and regain her proprietous bearing. “Maybe,” she grumbled, “but I’ll have to think about it.” She lowered her neck for him to hop on, and let him settle in before she took again to the sky.
Night Light leaned in and shouted over the battering winds, “I never got your name!”
“We’re sharing names now?” The dragon feigned a gag. “Your cordiality is almost sickening.” Silent passed the moment that followed, and shortly she added, “Umbraze.”
“Menacing!”
“Of course it is!” she replied, picking up speed to escape the grin spread across her face.
Twilight Velvet had fallen asleep again on the sofa, the noon sun spilling out of the living room's bay windows, hugging a little romance novel against her barrel as if it were a pillow, when a knock at the door roused her. Up she shot, shaking her mane and tail straight and setting her book aside before she made to answer it. “Coming!”, she lilted when they knocked again, and when at last she opened the door she gasped and leaped into Night Light’s welcoming hooves.
“I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” Night jested. Velvet gave him a squeeze and he squeezed back. “I love you, too, dear.” They parted only after a long minute of holding one another. “Oh!”, Night Light added. “Guess what I found.”
“You didn’t.”
Out popped the ring from behind him, held aloft in his golden magic. “I did!”
“Oh, honey!” She lunged in again and peppered his face with smooches, nabbing the ring and letting it slide down safely upon her horn. She delighted in the familiarity of its presence, and, sighing, nuzzled up against her stallion’s chest. “We could have just got another, you know.”
“Wouldn’t have been the same,” said Night. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met my new friend if we’d done things the easy way.”
Velvet leaned back, brow quirked inquisitively. “New friend?” It was then she noticed all the other ponies had vanished from the streets, and the why for it. Her eyes sparkled with awe, and she was unable to stifle her excited gasp.
“Velvet, Umbraze,” Night announced, then gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “Umbraze, Velvet.”
Umbraze offered the mare one digit of her giant claw and a smile, more readily than before, brightened her face. “Charmed.”
Velvet placed a hoof upon it and returned the look. “Likewise!”
“Couldn’t have found it without her help, y’know,” said Night. Umbraze quirked a brow at him, he offered a knowing, furtive wink, and she shrugged.
“In that case I should be thanking you, as well,” said Velvet. “Care to join us for tea? We’ve got plenty of gems to spare, too, if that’s more your thing.”
The couple smiled up at Umbraze awaiting her answer. Discomfort crept up her spine, but the prospect of free food and something very like the rattling in her heart that put her on this path suppressed it. “I’d be delighted,” she said, sitting carefully on her haunches.
“Wonderful!” Velvet galloped back indoors saying over her withers, “I’ll have everything ready quick as can be!”
Night Light sidled up to Umbraze. “She’s going to talk your ear off, you know?”
"Dragons don't have ears, little pony," Umbraze said, watching a group of pegasi wheel by overhead. Alongside them she beheld the clouds woven serenely about the gold-capped towers of looming Canterlot, and gazing out saw the point at which the sky and endless verdure below convened amicably. She took a deep breath, the air fresh and cool, and the nascent rattling in her heart struck a more harmonious chord. Her eyes eventually fell again upon the pony sitting beside her, and she added earnestly, "No offense."
Night chuckled and waved it off with an idle hoof. “None taken.”
Velvet rushed out bearing the tea, a few barrels of gemstones, a table, and chairs and set it all up on the front yard. The two ponies took their seats and beckoned Umbraze to join them, and she did as much as she could, craning her head down and holding her barrel of gems as if it were a teacup. Night and Velvet raised their drinks in a toast, and Umbraze raised hers, confounded as a savory cascade of precious stones tumbled along her tongue at how utterly strange these ponies were.
And by and by their pleasant talks ate up the day, Velvet and Umbraze whiling hours away as Night Light eased back into his chair and nursed his drink. Glad he was to have found what he sought and, he supposed as he looked up at an Umbraze smirking and smiling with fostered ease, to have helped another find a little something they had been missing as well.
