The room was dark, though the shine of moonlight made the crystals that covered many of the surfaces glint in the gloom, casting many-hued specks across the notes that filled the remaining space. At the centre of it all, an island of light is ringed by green-flame candles where a dragon sits, his quill pen scratching on paper as he works.
"Spike!"
The lab door is open now, and the dragon’s bleary gaze turns to it, and the antlered figure silhouetted there.
"Oh! Hi, Thorax."
"You're working too late again."
Thorax approaches, the reflections off his gem-bright carapace dancing with the glittering surroundings. Spike smiles apologetically, unable to deny the accusation, though any discomfort melts away in the changeling hug.
"Picked up some bad habits from Twilight, I guess. I just had a thought...several hours ago."
"I think you might have taken it as far as it can go tonight. Even I know four times seven isn't eleven."
"What? Oh!" Spike groans as he scratches out the error. He looks as though he might thank the changeling, but is interrupted by his own stomach's growl.
"When did you last eat?"
"...Several hours ago."
Pony Joe's was quiet, the hour late even by the standards of overworked academics and beleaguered bureaucrats. But it was open nonetheless, should the nearby palace or university disgorge a hungry employee, such as the one presently being treated to sweet dinner by a royal (if foreign) decree. The sticky pastries and bitter coffee were piled high before the pair, though only one ate the solid food. The other drew sustaining delight from the warmth of his boyfriend's presence, shifted to a ponylike size, to better fit in the booth and around the dragon.
As even Spike's prodigious appetite became sated, and his feeding slowed, Thorax asked "So what was the idea?"
"Well, I was working on a Four Ear Transform for the piezo resonance in different bones..." Already expectedly lost, Thorax let Spike's words wash over him, simply enjoying the dragon's excitement in his work and expertise, until an unexpected name pulled him back. "...this would be much easier if Sombra hadn't..."
"What?" he interrupted, surprised at the reference to the dead tyrant.
Spike chuckled. "You weren't listening, were you?"
"...Yes?" Thorax tried, though only succeeding at getting another chuckle that made the changeling blush.
"Of course you were. This is history, so you should be able to manage, it's not scary calculations." Spike teased, booping him. "Dragon magic is largely uninvestigated, aside from what random secrets individual dragons stumbled on."
"Until you." Thorax nuzzled the dragon.
"Not quite, back in the Crystal Empire, before it fell, there was a dragon that was working on it, Lantern. He'd collated at least the start of a functioning dragon magic theory. Unfortunately, Lantern vanished when Sombra took power, taking his knowledge with him, which means I'm back at square one."
"Oh. I didn't know there were any dragons in the old Empire."
"Only Lantern. He was considered a bit of a weirdo by the dragons at the time. At least according to Torch. His guess is that he ended up in Sombra's labs."
Thorax shuddered, curling more tightly around Spike for reassuring warmth. He didn't know many details about what had been discovered in those dark chambers, but what little he'd picked up still scared him.
"Thorax!"
"Oh! Sorry!" The changeling untensed, letting Spike breathe freely again.
"That's okay." Spike snuggled into Thorax's embrace, more comfortable now. The two sat together in a long silence, until Thorax realised that Spike had fallen asleep. His slow breathing and contented smile offered more reassurance to the changeling, and soon, he joined him in sleep.
"Your Majesty!" Amethyst, the Crystal Librarian, attempted to bow deeply to Thorax, but he rushed to hold her up, alarmed by the elderly mare's unbalanced and arthritic motion.
"There's no need for that, Miss Maresbury. I just wanted to ask about the old Empire."
Having just regained her equilibrium, Amethyst nearly lost it again. Even with the long years since the Empire's return, Sombra cast a long shadow over the minds of its people.
"I'll do my best to tell you what I know." she said, with an admirable success at keeping her voice from quivering.
"I'm looking for anything that might have been written by or about a dragon named Lantern." Thorax asked, wary of worsening the fear in her heart, but he was relieved when she was flooded with the same.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be able to help you, nothing's turned up since Spike asked about him."
"Spike asked?" Thorax's heart sank. Of course Spike had thought of this, he was brilliant.
"Yes. Unfortunately, aside from the basic citizenship records, the only thing we have is an entry in the library catalogue donated by him, but the book in question hasn't been found in the archives. The magical research section was plundered by King Sombra, and many of the texts are still missing."
"Oh. Thankyou anyway. Sorry to have bothered you."
"It's no problem, your Majesty."
Thorax watched her walk away, but didn't really see her, he was too busy kicking himself. If it was that easy, someone would have done it.
Okay, bug, breathe like Cadance taught you. Calm down. This is a puzzle, just like one of Shining's O&O sessions. The Int(Research) check has failed. What do we have? You're a Changeling Noble, that's a Cha build... People skills! The records have been lost, but someone must have known Lantern, dragons aren't exactly subtle. So how to find who would?
"Excuse me! Miss Maresbury! Could I have a look at the citizenship records, please?"
A deep breath, another check of the scrap of paper in his aura, and Thorax thought he might have steeled up the courage to do what he was here for. Lantern's old address. It wasn't inhabited by the dragon any more, of course, in the fifteen years since the Empire's return, several families had moved through, but one door down, that household hadn't changed, not since Sombra's fall. So...
He forced his legs to work, and knocked on the door in front of him. The young stallion who answered was almost certainly not who he was looking for, but the coat colour was right, so maybe...
"I'm looking for Diamond Snow, is she in?"
The stallion turned around and shouted back into the house.
"Gran, visitor!"
"Well show them in! And get the kettle on!" came the answer, and soon Thorax found himself sat in a kitchen that gleamed with crystal polish, nursing a sweet-smelling brew and sat opposite a mare who had downed her own scalding cup in one go before getting the refill currently steaming in front of her.
"So, lad, what can I do for you?" she opened.
"I...I wanted to ask about..." he stammered
"Something that shadow bastard did?"
Thorax started, and wasn't able to respond before she decided to answer his confusion.
"No offense, but if the Changeling King is at my door, it isn't going to be for light chit-chat, and I've not done anything that important since his deserved evaporation."
"Oh." A silence proceeded, stunned on one half, expectant on the other.
"So...?" she prompted, before downing her own cup.
"Do you remember the dragon that lived next door?"
"Lantern? Yep, bit standoffish, but polite enough. Worked later than was good for him. Don't know what happened to him after the Shadow came. Think he was working on some kinda experiments, lucky crystal buildings are pretty tough. Didn't know him very well. What's you're interest?"
Still a little shocked, Thorax eventually managed to pull his thoughts together enough to ask a followup.
"I'm just trying to find out what happened to him."
The third drink vanished down Snow's throat before she answered. "Like I said, I dunno. But probably nothing good, I remember the Shadow Guard ripping the place apart looking for something, and they carted off a ton of stuff. Place was pretty much bare walls until it was fixed up after the Return. I don't think they took him then, though. Maybe they'd grabbed him earlier? I wouldn't know. But maybe his friend would know."
"Friend?"
"Yeah, some stallion who worked in the crystal garden. Never got his name, but they were pretty close. 'Bout the only time Lantern wasn't overworking was when he was around."
"Can you describe him?"
Snow closed her eyes in concentration, and shivered as she fell into dark memories. When her grandson put a hoof on her shoulder, she batted it away angrily.
"No, sorry. It was so long ago, even without..."
"That's OK. Thankyou."
"Always glad to help the Palace. Under the new Princess, at least." Snow smiled. "Finish the tea, good for the nerves."
The citizen records weren't long on physical details, and whatever bureaucrat had been tasked with filling in Lantern's had clearly felt that 'is a dragon' would cover most identifying eventualities, but after longer than he'd like to admit (especially near Pharynx) in front of a mirror, Thorax thought he had a reasonable facsimile of the missing dragon, at least how he was a thousand years ago.
None of the gardeners had mentioned a dragon when they were interviewed by Cadance's psychologists after the return, not unexpected given the memory holes endemic in the Crystal ponies, but Thorax hoped that his disguise might unearth those memories. Certainly, the dragon was striking enough, bright gold scales acid-etched with runes, blue-white eyes that reflected every facet of the crystal glitter surrounding them so keenly they almost glowed. Still not as handsome as Spike, Thorax thought as he turned away from the mirror.
His hopes began to fade as minutes in the garden passed. Though 'Lantern' drew no small amount of attention, none of it brought recognition, even to his straining empathic senses, at least not until a wash of emotion crashed over the disguised changeling, carried by a grieving wail.
hope fear love lust loss self-pity pain horror worry guilt grief recognition panic pain
Thorax didn't hear the gardener sobbing behind him from the ground. He was too busy falling himself, drowning in the emotional torrent, flickers of green flame burning away his disguise in patches, until his overwhelmed empathy finally gave out and his tortured mind sought refuge in unconsciousness.
When he woke, his eyes brought him only one message: 'Pink!'
He blinked, and managed to bring the Princess of Love into focus, along with the rest of the room where he'd apparently been brought and laid out on a bed.
"Welcome back. Are you alright, Thorax?"
"Yes, Princess." he groaned. "Aside from a headache."
"Understandable. Now." Her warm smile shifted tenor slightly, and suddenly seemed to have an awful lot of teeth. "Why are you traumatising my little ponies?"
Thorax suddenly found himself wishing Pharynx was in the room. His brother's needling might have been annoying, but it was far better than Cadance's polite wrath.
"Well...I...I'm trying to find a..."
"Lantern. That was easy to work out. Why do you want to find him?"
To make Spike happy.
He didn't need to speak his answer aloud. Cadance was as attuned to Love as he, and could see his heart's response.
"While I approve of romantic gestures, please take care around my subjects' traumas." Cadance admonished him. "Fortunately, Leafglitter has forgiven you. He wants to help," she raised a hoof to stop Thorax from rising, "but first, the doctors need to sign off on both of you."
Thorax groaned, a decade and half was enough for Equestrian medical lore to get some of the basics of changeling biology solid, but not nearly enough that doctors were willing to take any risks. He was in for a long inspection. Cadance turned back from the door for one last comment.
"Spike should be here by this evening, he caught the next train when he heard."
Oh no, Thorax hid himself under his hooves, this was so embarrassing, why did Spike have to know how badly he'd screwed up?
"Are you sure?"
"No, it's been over a thousand years. But Lantern said if anything went wrong to meet him here. Of course, he was expecting it to be that he'd got kicked out."
The cave was dark and deep, far darker and deeper than it might have been in previous eras. The snow eddied around them, but seemed to refuse to settle in the shadowed space, denying even that brightness to it. Spike blew a wispy light into existence, and let it drift inside.
Deep cuts marked the earth, dragon-runes that promised ruin to trespassers, but long years had worn them down, even sheltered as they were, and the three travelers moved closer.
"It's hard to date them, beyond saying they're at least years old." Spike got up from his inspection. "But they're definitely dragon-made, and by a dragon with several centuries' growth."
"Lantern?" asked Leafglitter.
"I don't know. And whoever made them could still be here, or could have moved on."
"Well, then let's find out!"
The emerald pony trotted forwards, his bright coat lighting the cave beyond. His scarred face searched it with hopeful keeness.
"Thankyou, Thorax." whispered Spike.
"For what? I messed it up. And we've still not found anything."
Spike nuzzled his friend, dragon-warmth chasing away the chill of the Frozen North. "You found more than I did. And you did it for me. Even if this is a dead end, I still appreciate it."
Distracted by each other, the two nearly collide with Leafglitter, who has stopped, stupefied, as the dark tunnel, twisted into the earth, opened out into a glittering crystal cavern, gems of all colours shining in the light of many-hued braziers, a beautiful display of colour and geometry, occasionally disrupted by the unsettling sight of toothmarks on the stones, from teeth that only Thorax, the tall changeling King, might outsize.
The awe-inspiring sight stole their senses. What brought it back was a terrible shaking in the earth, and a bellowing shout that rasped with fire.
"I can smell you, changelings! There is no love here! Begone!"
The speaker managed to outshine its home, golden scales that caught and reflected the light, a dragon that has earned its age, if the magic-warped scar tissue that replaces one forepaw is any guide. The monstrous creature moved with the inevitability of an avalanche, each heavy footfall risking sending the trio sprawling as it stalked the crystal maze, searching for the intruders.
"Lantern!" Leafglitter seemed oblivious to the danger as he galloped forwards, his voice tiny compared to the titan's roar. But a dragon's senses are never sharper than when defending their hoard, and he was heard. The monster turned to face the approaching pony, and hesitated for a moment. Only a moment.
How dare you steal that face, parasite! Lantern turned his head, crunching down on a crystal spire and swallowing it with a terrible grinding and an inhalation that dragged the breath from the others.
Then, only then, did Leafglitter realise the danger, but it was too late. He cowered in face of the rising flame, but could not escape it. Thorax screamed as the pony was enveloped, and tried to dive forwards, taking a dragon-form to resist the rising fire, but Spike grabbed him, and held him back, pulling him into the chromatic chaos of the crystals, hiding from the wrath of the dragon.
When the flame died, in a patch of scorch and glass, Leafglitter still cowered, sobbing. There was a long, shocked silence.
"What?" The dragon did not seem to understand at first, his voice now smaller, uncertain. His long head descended to examine the shivering pony, and he flinched back as Leafglitter scrambled away. "You can't be... are you... you're dead... have my nightmares escaped my sleep?"
He moved as if to cup the pony in his vast paw, but he pulled back. The dragon's mind whirled as he tried to process what he was seeing, and failed. He screamed and fled, unseeing or uncaring of the delicate spires he smashed aside.
Thorax and Spike rushed to Leafglitter, the pony still weeping in terror and grief. "He said he'd never hurt me." Thorax's dragon-form sparked and fragmented back to his true self, but he barely noticed.
Spike knelt to the ash and glass floor, licking it inquisitively.
"He still won't. The fire...I don't know exactly what it was meant to do, I only recognise about half the fuels, and understand half of them, but it needs changeling magic to fully burn. Without that component, it's harmless."
"Are...are you sure?"
"First thing I figured out was harmless flame."
The three sat together for a long moment. A strange noise echoed from deeper chambers.
"What now?"
Thorax listened deeply to the sounds, then got to his hooves.
"Wait here. I think I know what to do..."
"Thorax, he could kill you! You're an actual changeling. It's not worth it!"
"Spike, trust me, I can do it."
"You, you are definitely a changeling."
"Yes, I am."
Thorax moved closer to the dragon, carefully avoiding the puddles where tears had splashed.
"Why are you here? You cannot feed on love that I have destroyed."
"To tell you you haven't."
"I never valued what I had, I abandoned him as dead. And now he looks at me with fear. I did that. I thought you'd stolen his face."
"You made a mistake. It happens. Friends forgive mistakes. Especially ones made from love." The dragon turned to look at the changeling for the first time, and Thorax continued. "Spike forgives me a lot. And I know Leafglitter is the same, he forgave me...hurting him... to find you."
"Why do you care about an old dragon?"
"Because my friend...my boyfriend does. He respects what you tried to do...he wants your help."
"What I tried... My research? Don't lie to me, dragons care only for their hoards."
"And changelings care only for their hunger. Until Spike took a chance on one that didn't."
A noise from the entrance demanded their attention. Leafglitter stood there, nervous, but eyes shining with excitement.
When Thorax returned to Spike, he was carrying a heavy tome, brittle with age.
"Is that...?"
"Yes, and Lantern wants to see what progress you make. He apologises for the delay, but he wants to spend a decade or so on personal matters before he gets back to work."
"He wants to work with me?." Spike squeaked.
"He thought that the person who could redeem a changeling might also be able to teach an old dragon friendship."
Author's Note
I hope this is at least enjoyable. As noted on the LD, this was written for the 2022 M/M contest, which at time of publishing still has a few days before the deadline! Hope to see lots of good gay content come out of it & looking forwards to reading it.
Lost Gold (Optional Chapter)
Author's Note
This doesn't really fit with the main arc of the story, but dramatic action is fun to write, so have a glimpse of Lantern's worst day.
Lost Gold (Optional Chapter)
Lantern raced through the streets. Something was very, very wrong. The Empire was meant to be bright crystal blue, not this dark stone. The sky was hellish, and a terrible chill was worming its way in from the outskirts. The ponies were panicked, some fleeing aimlessly through streets that went nowhere safe, others hiding in houses as the shadows cast from the Crystal Castle fell across them. Lantern didn't know what happened to those inside, but the silence was worse than the whimpering. They had no hope, as the great spire's shadow turned under the sun, a dial counting down doom.
He had to get to the Crystal Gardens, had to find his ~~boyfriend~~ ~~friend~~ pony, and that meant getting closer to the Castle. For a pony, it might have proven impossible, but even a young dragon could force his way against the tide. He broke free from the herd and left score marks as he took a corner too fast and came face-to-face with soldiers he didn't recognise.
Strange helmets that tasted of slavery on their heads, they were escorting a group of ponies...Leafglitter's scent was unmistakable, and even covered in ash and bound in steel Lantern recognised him. A surge of anger and jealousy filled the dragon. He is mine, and he batted aside the soldiers with newfound size.
"Lantern!"
Too lost to speak, Lantern shattered the chains, grabbing the smaller pony and dragging him away (was it always this easy?).
"We have to help the others!"
Lantern glanced about, and kicked the apparent leader of the soldiers over to the prisoners, the key at her belt now within easy reach of the bound ponies. She didn't respond to the rough handling, neither flinching nor crying out, though too severely wounded to resist the prisoner's escape. Without further patience for anything that wasn't his, Lantern resumed his flight, this time away from the newly-ominous tower.
A searing pain struck him from above, one paw twisting and crunching in inky-black agony, and he fell, his momentum carrying him and Leafglitter in a tumble that ended in a wall, fresh cracks across its surface. Lantern groaned, having taken the worst of the impact, even dragon toughness had its limits. Leafglitter stumbled to his feet, trying to reach Lantern, but more of those helmeted soldiers were already approaching. Unable to act as his vision blurred and maimed leg bled, Lantern saw one of them smash him in the head. The emerald coat was marred, and he lay still.
Still dazed, Lantern crawled forwards, but the soldiers were ready, with chains for him. On instinct the dragon breathed, his forgotten project catching in his throat and turning the flames a blinding silver-white. Those helmets caught ablaze in that same sunlike flame, and the ponies wearing them staggered, unharmed but disoriented.
No no no
Leafglitter did not move, did not respond to Lantern's insistent pressure. A new shadow fell on the dragon, a dark unicorn with teeth to match the dragons', and his oily magic filled Lantern's head. Nightmare crawled between his ears, stole away reason, hope, love, wrath. All but fear.
Sombra cursed as the glittering dragon vanished into the alleys, his wings carrying him with adrenaline-speed, despite his wounds. No matter, the dragon would not last long. A simple thought turned a squad to the hunt, and a second to retrieve the now-freed ponies before they could recover.
Half-blind, Lantern staggered through the doors of the library. The end of days had come. A monster that could not be stopped had risen and all the world would fall beneath him. There was no hope of resistance. A pony would be crushed under the weight of it, would curl up to whimper and die. But a dragon's greed and spite are terrible things, and while he could neither stop nor escape the monster, he could deny it what was his.
It has taken my love pony. It shall not have my secrets.
Even without his sight in the gloom, he could find his book. Its texture so familiar, the scent of it mixed with the blood in his nostrils...the paper-scent dominated, yes, but also there was smoke from long nights by the fire, and the scent of Leafglitter, from hairs caught in the binding.
Lantern's mouth was open to breathe, but he couldn't. He couldn't burn his pony. Wound-addled, barely conscious of what he was doing, he stuffed the book into a bag abandoned on a bench. The owner wouldn't need it now. Now he needed to get away. Hide.
The next thing Lantern clearly remembered was crawling from the cave, woken by a great crack that had sounded across the frozen plains. He looked to the Crystal Empire, expecting to see its spire, even darkened, but there was nothing.
~~Leafglitter~~ The Empire was gone.
He was alone in the Frozen North.
