The long journey, full of dangers and terrifying revelations, was supposed to end today. Nopony would go through it unchanged. The final battle, one of the last few encounters crowning the fateful path, remained.
A heavy, double-sided axe, covered in glowing runes, flew towards the mighty dragon's head. The dragon recoiled, clutching his injured eye with his claw. An earth pony, white and powerful in her marble-threaded leather armor, performed a little victory dance.
A mage, dark as night, cloaked in a dramatically billowing fabric embroidered in dark stars — how he acquired it was a whole other story, distinctly reeking of crime — prepared a dragon-slaying spell.
The clock struck midnight.
A quiet and restrained chorus of disappointment filled the room, four voices strong. Including the dragon's — his voice was, in fact, the loudest one.
"Did you hear something?" the bard-also-thief drawled, grinning wickedly — or so she thought. "My ears are ringing."
"Seems I forgot to wind the clock," the dragon said in a very honest voice.
The mage and the warrior nodded in agreement. Any rule set by adults was invalid until you were caught breaking it. The main rule of a happy foalhood.
Besides, Twilight had been letting them get away with a lot lately, for some reason. She was unusually deep in her thoughts, nose buried in her papers, and glancing at them like they were not seeing it. Especially at Stylus. To everypony's relief, this time she told nopony what she was up to. She even allowed them to start a permanent adventurers' club in the library's back room.
By the way, here she was.
From the top of the stairs, Twilight looked at the huddled party of heroes, the embarrassed dragon. Carefully avoiding looking at the wizard's cloak, definitely only temporarily borrowed from Trixie, she told them, "I have to go to Canterlot urgently. You can play until the very sunrise. Whatever happens, don't go outside."
The adventurers nodded understandingly. They were not even forty years old in total over the three of them, but they were natives of Ponyville. Business as usual. A tradition, you might say.
"Spike, I'm counting on you."
He nodded — sure. He will remember these words for a very long time.
Twilight ran away to deal with adult problems.
The dragon cleared his throat.
"Stylus - uh... I mean, Shadowbane the Wise - roll the dice."
They went on.
Fiery eyes flashed in the rusty darkness of the cave, light glinted off tall gilded horns. The enraged minotaur chieftain, his thundering roar echoing through the cave, charged right at them. He was followed by two common minotaur warriors.
"Quartz?"
The white, gray-maned earth pony brandished the sword recently taken from the dragon,
"I swing wide to hit all three of 'em!"
"You can't use the wide swing! The minotaur is a large creature," Bittercup objected.
The warrior's eyes flashed with righteous anger, the flames of which lifted the earth pony above the ground.
“How dare you, you insignificant creature! You oughta know I took the 'Bulky Frame' perk when I generated my character, and I leveled up my Constitution to sixteen, which means that when usin' two-hooved melee weapons, my attacks count as those of a Large Creature! I will crush ya for your impudence!”
The adventurers stared in horror at Quartz, who was hovering above the table, too big, too imposing. Spike choked and buried himself in his notes. The window of the backroom glowed unsteady white, tinted in rainbow hues. The ray fell on Quartz, illuminated her silhouette.
"She's right, Bit."
"Well, I reckon I am!"
"Put the sword down, please. And where did you even get it?"
"Oh."
Leaning close to Stylus's ear, Bittercup whispered, "Are you sure there were no kirin in your family?"
The grey unicorn with the white mane shook his head. Spike looked out the window. A white glow was spreading outside. He sighed as only long-term denizens of Ponyville could, "Probably best not to think about it for now."
He drew the curtains.
A hundred pony-tall stone column, covered in ancient carvings, cracked open revealing a cursed altar that had not been tarnished over the centuries. Above it, in a shimmering magical field, hung a crown, seemingly made of liquid red gold. It was the greatest of ancient artifacts, the Crown of Tau.
Spike changed his voice, imitating a vile ancient ghost:
"One wish, heh-heh-heh. Only one! The temple demands a sacrifice! One of you will have to die horribly, mua-ha-ha-ha-ha"
The warrior and the bard-thief exchanged glances. The wizard lay at the bottom of a trap. They will come to resurrect her, or if not, there will be the next game. For now, only the two of them remained. Bittercup took the initiative:
"Persuasion check!"
Persuasion for a self-sacrificing action required a roll of at least eighteen on the dice. A blue light was blazing outside the windows. They didn't want to know what it was. Well, it would be a beautiful ending anyway.
The dice flashed with an elusive blue glint and landed with two tens facing up.
Bittercup's golden eyes filled the entire world. "Do you know what victory is? It is a great gift that gives life to a whole world. So claim your win, Quartz, grant me this wish. Give me your life and live forever in my songs."
"Hold her!"
The dragon and the unicorn wrestled a pen knife out of the warrior’s hooves. The yellow-green pegasus was tearful, coiled in fear on her chair at the table. The windows were burning blue.
Minutes later, as they calmed down and Bittercup was celebrating her victory in the adventure, and friends were supporting her joy, the room never had been filled with red. A painful, burning wound of their memories which could suggest otherwise was healed over, stitched together and closed down by the careful touch of invisible, deepest violet. Time for the game was now over. Time for clean-up came in its place.
They tidied up the table and waited for Twilight. Or for semblance of calmness beyond the closed curtains. Or until the sunrise comes.
The second of those came to them, and they slept soundly.
