A squirrel scampered across the dewy morning ground, and Spike shot a foot in the air. On a crucial mission like this, every little sound of nature could spell death.

Suddenly, the squirrel was frozen in mid-stride, locked in a bubble of chaos magic. Spike looked behind him to see Discord staring impatiently. His face looked so sarcastic it was almost scary.

“Honestly, Spike, you’ve done more to slow us down than any possible threat could!”

Spike nervously bit his claws, a habit he had never managed to shake off. “Well, in my defense, this mission of ours isn’t exactly a walk in the park, is it?”

Discord gestured vaguely at the surrounding woodland area. They were on a dusty path that winded its way through a thick patch of evergreens. It was far from any of the untouched corners of Equestria they imagined they would be stomping through by now. He just smirked, the chaotic glint in his eyes making Spike want to never speak again.

Spike regretted his choice of words. They were, in fact, in a public park. There were even marked signs on the trail. He sighed. When they had agreed to take the less crowded route to the small town they were assigned to, he didn’t anticipate how jumpy he would be.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Poor choice of words. Let’s continue.” He gritted his teeth, trying to get his spine back.

Discord followed, on foot as they both declined to use magic lest they be discovered. Nevermind that Discord had just used his magic for an unnecessary reason. Whatever. Such things were bound to happen whenever Spike traveled with someone who had unexpectedly become a good friend.

They marched on through the woods, all the way down south from the Crystal Empire they had sheltered in. It was a relief that at the very least, Discord was able to transport them out of the frigid plains. It was still a long and arduous journey, but Spike was grateful that he wouldn’t have to wade through deep snow. There were sinister things in the frozen north, he was sure of it. He hadn’t surveyed much of the area aside from the time he first met Thorax, but he knew enough to know that the Crystal Empire’s Crystal heart was protecting a lot more than just a frosty winter and a bitter ex-ruler.

Spike was just glad that their journey started through the picturesque plains of Equestria’s lower northeast. They had spent several hours hiking on flat ground, something that they both would long for once they reached the hilly, treacherous marshes of the south. But for now, the evergreens were gorgeous as they made their way between several small towns on the outskirts of the greater Ponyville area. The once bustling small town had been sheltering in place since the bombings in nearby Canterlot, citizens urged to huddle in their basements and only venture out for emergencies. As they ventured past town and its eerie outside forest, it felt like walking through an exact replica of the town; exactly the same except for no life at all. Like one of those model train sets that Spike had played with as a young dragon. They hurried out of there as soon as they could, not wanting to attract any attention at all. Not that anypony would have seen them, anyway. More than windows were closed. were closed in the town.

If Spike could have knocked a hole through the boarded up blinds and peeked through, he would have found that the barrier between the desolate outside and the somber inside was only a physical one. A superficial protection against a threat that had already touched many residents. They may not have been bombed or killed, but an equally disturbing thread had already woven itself around the town. Spike didn’t know exactly what it was, but the eerie feeling he got while standing on the outskirts of town was something he couldn’t pinpoint. It had something to do with hope, he knew. Or the lack of it. It was as if the reservoir of dreams and hope had been drained out of Ponyville. The vibrant sun and lush gardens had been replaced with a lack of color that belonged to a faded photograph of a town, rather than the town itself.

“Well, it’s certainly seen better days.” Discord broke their silent stalk up rolling hills that lay beyond the broken town.

Spike only nodded. “Yeah. It’s certainly seen better days.”

That was the extent of their conversation. Spike couldn’t believe himself, but he was actually missing the times when Discord would never stop talking. He wished his draconequus friend would never shut up until the end of time if it meant things would be normal again. But when would that be? When were things ever normal?

Spike just pursed his lips and they trudged on, finally emerging from the thick trees that had subtly enveloped the rolling hills. The ground grew thick and mushy, like the whole path was made of dirty water and peanut butter. They were in a marsh, havens of some of Equestria’s most unsightly creatures, like large snakes and spiders. Hopefully this chapter of their trip would be closed soon enough. Spike gulped as he took his tentative steps into the increasingly sticky and watery substance. Discord had no issues with it, trudging along like a ginormous alligator or some other horrible bug wasn’t one wrong step away.

It did, however, occur to Spike later that Discord still had the powers of chaos, so perhaps they would become well-acquainted.

A big sigh came out of nowhere, followed by a grumbling expression on Discord’s face. “This mud-water does not please Discord.” He yanked his tail from where it had been dragging behind him, away from the quicksand-like surface.

“Why do you always speak like that? In the third pony?”

“That’s the third draconequus, for your information!”

“Okay, fine. Why do you speak in the third draconequus? It’s annoying. Even Fluttershy can’t stand it.”

Discord glared at him. “Well, first of all, Spike, I don’t always speak like that. Simply when I feel like it. You ponies are all so boring and blase,”–He said that last word with a wave of his left talon–“I'm sure you could forgive me for bringing the tiniest iota of flair to our conversations, considering I’m reformed and all.” He stretched out his right claw, inspecting his nails like he was having the most boring exchange of all time.

Discord’s explanation for his continuous annoyances left Spike incredulous. “Really? You drive us all insane, considering we’re friends and all. You should really get some etiquette lessons from Rarity. She’ll teach you to be less annoying!” He crossed his scaly arms. Getting into a row with Discord was infuriating, sure, but it helped distract from the emotional heaviness of what they were actually living through.

Discord rolled his eyes. “Believe me, no amount of speaking in the third draconequus will ever be as annoying as your crush on Rarity.”

Spike’s whole face went as red as a tomato. It had been over a decade since Rarity had gently let him down, but he still got butterflies when he thought of her. He would never in a million years admit that he was still hung up on Rarity, but of course Discord could see right through it.

He did his best to sound over it. “Oh, please, Discord! I’m a full-grown dragon! I got over that fillyhood crush decades ago.” He tried to sound confident with that last part, even though he had barely been alive for three decades, let alone enough to distance him from his crush.

Discord had a glint in his eyes. Not an antagonizing look, but a knowing one. He stretched out his clawed hand and patted Spike on the back. “Well, not all of us can say we got over a beautiful, wonderful, perfect pony who crushed the dreams of a pathetic, weak dragon who can barely fly.” He smiled, sly and self-satisfied. Distracting Spike was the perfect way to get them through the marshes without complaint.

Spike stomped his foot, then frantically pulled it out of the muck that was certain to capture his foot if it didn't get his spirit first.

He grumbled, but trudged on.

Discord was happy to continually make conversation. “So is this a bog, or a marsh, or a swamp? Because, frankly, my thoughts are swamped with ideas about what could be in this mud!” He chuckled to himself.

Spike rolled his eyes, again, making sure Discord could see. “That’s so not funny, Discord. For an immortal creature of chaos, you have the humor of a middle-aged stallion!”

Discord corrected him. “I’m not technically immortal. My powers of chaos override immortality, to be precise.”

“Okay, so an immortal with the choice of being mortal.”

Discord nodded. “Exactly.”

Spike had a follow-up. “So, if you’ve lived this long, through being a statue and one-time ruler…are you just going to keep going on forever? Because it seems to me you’ve pretty much lived any chaotic scenario imaginable.”

Discord, shushed Spike. “Remember what happened with Big-Mac’s proposal? All those dastardly apples? I would caution against making such statements.” He was practically stage-whispering, even though there didn’t seem to be civilization for miles.

Spike nodded, and Discord lifted his claw. “So, what’s your plan, then? Lounge around the castle forever? Outlive us all? What’s Discord’s future looking like?”

“Now you’re speaking right!”

“Ugh, good grief.”

“But seriously, I don’t want to live forever, anyway.”

Spike perked up at this. “But why?”

Discord looked…uncomfy, for just a moment. It was rare for him to show any true vulnerability, but for just a second, in the bog/marsh/swamp on Southern Equestria, a little glimpse was given. “Well, I suppose I will die when…you all do.”

‘Well, that’s pretty grim.” Spike hung his head.

Discord did not look sad. “Not, really, I don’t think so. I’ve lived a long time, Spike. I’ve seen a lot of things. But, truthfully–and this conversation never happened, by the way–the best times of my life have been with you all. When that time in my life comes to an end, well, so do I.”

Spike was about ready to cry, tears ready to stream down his face. Who could have imagined the marshes would invite the sentimental?

Spike just nodded and hummed, taking it in. Although most of the time he was annoyed by Discord, there were occasional moments when he was stunned into silence. Whether it was a profound statement about death or the stupidest thing he had ever heard, these were the moments that defined their friendship most.

They continued plodding through, the heaviness of their mission offset by the various emotions circling around in Spike’s brain. Sadness, fear, and gratitude were all amalgamated into one big lump of feeling.

Before they knew it, the midday sun had relaxed into that of the late afternoon. They had a few hours left before the sun set, and just a day before the meeting was set to start.

In the secret scroll that Twilight had given them, the coordinates met at a small town in the Southern corner of Equestria, where an old, abandoned amphitheater supposedly served as the Red Cloak’s meeting place. Whispers across other southern towns posited that the small, tight-knit community had been recently taken over by the terrorist group. Citizens had reportedly fled to neighboring communities, most of which were hours upon hours away from the isolated spot. If any town could qualify for the title of “most isolated place in Equestria” it would be these coordinates. Neither Spike or Discord was able to scrounge up any more information, as the research trips of disguised guards were brief and hesitant. Nopony could risk anything more than what they already had. This was all the information Twilight was going to get, that is until Spike and Discord arrived.

At last, the wet mud ground gave way to solid dirt paths again. The heat of the region was almost unbearable, and the stickiness of the mud was replaced with the dreadfully humid air. They were in truly uncharted territory, considering both of them spent most of their time in the Northern and Middle regions of Equestria and its bordering countries. Even a small-town dragon like Spike hadn’t ventured much into towns that barely occupied a small stretch of road. Which was, barring any heat-induced delusions, exactly was in front of them. As they stood on the overlook that separated them from the gently valleyed slopes beyond, all they could see were vague clusters of homes and stops. They had made it to the final stretch, the various villages that would eventually give way to the place only known in hushed whispers and the fearful air of late-night tavern gatherings. The specific place they were looking for was curtained by its own secretive and scary volition. Nopony visited that place, because of, well, the atrocities committed against Canterlot. Spike honestly didn’t know why Twilight wouldn’t send a massive army to one of these supposedly “secretive” gatherings and just kill the entire group, but he and everypony knew she didn’t operate with violence.

Although Spike knew that they would have to exhaust all of their nonviolent resources(hence the espionage) before any kind of battle would be able to start, he was still lured by the prospect of an easier solution for the Red Cloaks. But that wasn’t how Twilight had raised him, and that was not how an associate to the Princess of Friendship was supposed to think.

It was frustrating, being caught between the desire for a peaceful outcome and the relief that would come without one. Spike wasn’t a violent dragon, but these ponies Equestria was dealing with were not something they had ever faced before.

But the violence was inevitable. Spike could feel it in his bones. They were still preparing for war, even if battle was something no creature actually wanted to do. Would they have to kill the Red Cloaks? Would they send them to Tartarus? Would they be imprisoned in a stone statue like Queen Chrysalis, Grogar, and Cozy Glow? Would Twilight be able to reform them? Would they be banished to someplace beyond Equestria? Beyond this dimension?

Spike rubbed his temples. All of the unknown consequences of the Red Cloaks actions gave him a headache. But right now, all he needed to focus on was getting to the meeting without being found out first.

They first village they came through was beyond charming. Cottages with thatched roofs shared roads with shops that had probably been around longer than Celestia’s reign. Most houses were an off-white, some criss-crossed in a Tudor style. Some larger, fancier homes had gabled roofs, but were just as inviting and cozy. As they reached the town square, they saw rows of stalls selling everything from hay and apples to dish towels and hoof-made soaps. Discord immediately transported over to the baked goods table, where a fresh batch of croissants had come out to the bakery case. Spike watched, amused, as Discord attempted to haggle with the baker before giving up, snapping his claws to put a mountain of gold coins on the table as payment. The baker’s eyes went so wide they almost popped out of his head. Spike wondered if that amount of money had ever been seen in this small town.

They continued on their way, enjoying the chocolate croissants, careful not to spill crumbs on the fresh grass roads. As they reached the outpost, a dressed-down guard nodded in greeting as they left the town. Spike had seen that face before. He figured it was one of the many disguised Royal Guards that had been stationed across Equestria, something Twilight had only informed him of recently.

As the thatched roofs and vegetable gardens faded to nothing more than recent memory, Discord and Spike continued plodding through to the edge of Equestria. Perhaps it was the edge of the world, too.

A few hours later, what came into view was not a village, but the whispering, eerie remains of one. It was like looking at a skeleton after all of the body had rotted away.

Discord broke the silence. “We…should probably disguise ourselves now.”

It was strange hearing this new timbre in Discord’s voice. It was not just hesitance. It was pure fear. Spike turned to him, they locked eyes, and he nodded.

Discord snapped his claws, and neither of them needed a mirror to see what they looked like. It took a few minutes for each to get adjusted to the now-infamous uniforms. They were much heavier than they looked, apparently.

Discord scrutinized the clothing. “You’d think criminals would have less cumbersome clothes. You know, for galloping away from crime scenes.”

Spike agreed. “Yeah, it’s probably more for show than anything. Like some kind of really messed up unity.”

A natural silence fell upon them as they crept closer to their destination. Neither knew quite what to expect.

Eventually, they didn’t have to look around for the meeting spot anymore. It loomed over them, piercing the veil of mist that had overcome the area.

What was between them and finding all the Red Cloak secrets was quite literally something out of Ancient times. The old amphitheater was much, much larger than either had anticipated. It must have held thousands of spectators back in the day.

This of course begged the question…how many members of this rogue group were there? How many ponies put on cloaks and made the trek out here?

How many members of the enemy hadn’t revealed themselves yet?

Spike gulped and he wrapped himself tighter in his cloak. For all of its unnecessary weight, it was quite comforting, like a blanket he had once had as a baby dragon. He looked over to Discord and the fear was as clear as day on his face, even through the disguise of a pony. They continued on towards uncertainty, towards terror, towards their own nightmares.

Author's Note

Hello everyone,
I am so sorry about waiting a month to post this chapter, and also sorry for how short it is. August is always an extremely busy month, so life kind of got in the way. Thank you for sticking it out with me and I hope to get back to a more regular posting schedule soon.
Best,
Flopinator1976