Chapters Chapter 1: Unyielding Weight
Time Since the Death of Twilight Sparkle: 135 years
Spike walked away from the graves of his friends, his heavy steps muffled by the soft patter of rain. The drizzle didn’t bother him; it never did. This walk had become part of his routine, a solemn pilgrimage through memories and silence. With each visit, he pulled weeds, wiped away dirt, and murmured conversations to the stones as though his friends could still hear him. He lingered a little longer at Twilight's grave, as he often did—not because he thought she deserved more care than the others, but because time had taken its toll on the stone. Cracks spidered across its surface, weathered and worn, but nothing a touch of molten iron couldn’t mend.
Spike sighed, his breath forming faint wisps in the cool air. He hadn’t seen Discord much since Big Mac had passed 43 years earlier. The sturdy stallion had defied time for decades, but even the strongest eventually faltered. Spike smiled softly, remembering the quiet strength of Applejack’s brother. Discord had taken the loss hard, though none hit him as deeply as Fluttershy’s passing. Fluttershy had clung to life for as long as she could, but when her time came, she had gently asked Discord to let her go. The draconequus had been reluctant, of course. If it had been his choice, Fluttershy would have lived alongside him forever. But even chaos had its limits.
Spike chuckled under his breath, though it wasn’t truly funny. The absurdity of it all—the way time marched on, unyielding—was a bitter kind of irony. He continued down the path, his towering frame casting a long shadow in the dimming light.
The Carousel Boutique soon came into view, its once vibrant colors now dulled by age. Sweetie Belle and the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders had long since moved on, and their absence left the building feeling hollow. But now, without Rarity, it felt like an echo of what it had been. Spike paused at the doorway, the weight of nostalgia pressing on his chest. He tried not to dwell on how empty it all felt. After all, he had prepared himself for this—knowing he would outlive nearly every pony he had ever loved. But even preparation didn’t make the silence any easier.
Inside, the air was still, the creak of the floorboards under his weight the only sound. Spike moved carefully, his massive claws too large for many of the delicate tools and fabrics that Rarity had once used so effortlessly. He kept everything in good condition, though he dared not touch the framed photos on the walls. They were far too small for his claws, and he feared damaging them. He smiled wistfully at a picture of the six friends together, their faces frozen in a moment of laughter that felt both distant and immediate.
A knock on the door broke his reverie. Spike opened it to find Discord standing outside, a small scarf wrapped around his arm. The scarf was far too small for Discord’s neck—it had been Fluttershy’s—but he kept it close to him nonetheless.
“Welcome, old friend,” Spike said, stepping aside to let him in.
“Thanks, Spike. I really needed someone to talk to,” Discord replied as he entered, his voice carrying a weariness Spike hadn’t heard in years. Discord gave the dragon a once-over and added with a teasing grin, “Wow, I still can’t believe how much of a stud you’ve grown into.”
Spike chuckled and gestured to his towering frame. “Yeah, I guess I am pretty big now. Don’t think I’ve stopped growing yet, but I feel like I’m getting close.”
Discord nodded, his grin softening. “Careful, though. You’ll crash right through the floorboards if you keep at it.”
Spike shook his head with a smirk and busied himself preparing drinks. He poured coffee into Discord’s cup and hot chocolate into his own. “Never got the appeal,” Spike admitted after a sip of the warm drink. “Coffee just makes me miserable.”
Discord shrugged, taking a long sip of his own. “It keeps me going,” he said, his tone unusually somber.
Spike frowned, setting his mug down. “You know,” he began cautiously, “we haven’t seen the princesses in years. Maybe we should pay them a visit. I think it’d do us both some good to remind them that Equestria still has a dragon and a draconequus holding the fort.”
Discord’s eyes lit up, a flicker of his old self returning. “Dragon and draconequus,” he corrected. “Very different, you know.”
“Same difference, chaos king,” Spike teased with a smirk.
Discord grinned mischievously. “Not really, small fry.”
They shared a laugh, the sound filling the Boutique with an echo of warmth that it hadn’t felt in years. When the laughter subsided, Spike set his mug down and said, “How about this? Stay here tonight, and tomorrow we’ll head to Canterlot together. The princesses will get a kick out of seeing us.”
Discord stroked his goatee thoughtfully. “Yes… yes, that does sound like a good idea. Perhaps a little chaos is exactly what they need.” He glanced at the scarf on his arm and added quietly, “And maybe what I need too.”
Spike smiled warmly. “Then it’s settled. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
Discord nodded, the faintest hint of gratitude in his mismatched eyes. “Thank you, Spike. I’ll be here.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in hues of orange and purple, the two old friends sat in comfortable silence. The weight of years lingered around them, but for a moment, it felt lighter.
Tomorrow would bring a reunion, a step forward through the echoes of time. But for tonight, they rested, knowing they still had each other—and the memories of those they loved—to carry them through.
Chapter 2: Someone He Recognized
Spike awoke to the faint light of dawn filtering through the curtains of the Carousel Boutique. The familiar creak of the floorboards beneath his claws reminded him of the years he’d spent preserving this place, though the memories it held felt heavier with each passing day. Stretching his wings, he ambled to the small sitting room where Discord was sprawled across an ancient couch. The draconequus looked oddly comfortable, though his long limbs dangled over the edges in an almost comical fashion.
“Still intact,” Spike muttered, nudging Discord gently. “Good to see Rarity’s craftsmanship holds up.”
Discord cracked one eye open, then groaned. “Morning already? Can’t chaos have a lie-in?”
Spike smirked. “Come on, lazybones. You’ve had your fun. Let’s go greet the day.”
With that, Spike stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of crisp morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the fields in golden light and leaving droplets of dew sparkling on the grass. He felt the cool wetness against his hind claws as he walked a few steps forward, marveling at the quiet beauty around him.
“What a beautiful day, huh?” Spike said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and melancholy. “I guess I have Celestia to thank for that.”
Discord appeared beside him, yawning exaggeratedly as he floated just above the ground. “Truly magnificent,” he said with a half-smile. “Not as chaotic as I prefer, but it’s nice. Predictable, though.”
Spike sighed, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “Equestria’s been too quiet, Discord. It still needs a little chaos. I don’t know—turn a filly’s book into cake, make a cloud rain chocolate. You know Pinkie would’ve appreciated it.”
Discord’s smile turned wistful, a rare softness crossing his features. “She would’ve. You’re right. I’ll see to it soon—perhaps a little sprinkle of delightful absurdity to keep things lively.”
“For now, we go,” Spike said, spreading his wings and taking off into the morning sky.
The wind whipped around them as they flew, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth. Discord hovered alongside him effortlessly, his mismatched wings flapping in an oddly synchronized rhythm.
“Must be nice to have wings of your own,” Discord commented, eyeing Spike’s powerful wingspan.
“It is,” Spike replied, though his tone carried a hint of somberness. “I just wish they’d come a little sooner. Back when... well, you know.”
Discord didn’t press further, sensing the weight of Spike’s unspoken thoughts. Instead, they flew in companionable silence, the castle of Canterlot growing larger with each passing moment.
When they landed at the castle gates, the guards snapped to attention, their golden armor gleaming in the sunlight. Spike noticed their wide-eyed expressions as they took in the sight of him and Discord—a towering dragon and a draconequus were not everyday visitors, after all.
The lead guard stepped forward, clearing his throat nervously. “You’re—uh—both expected. Princess Celestia gave special orders to grant you entrance anytime.”
“Good to know she hasn’t forgotten us,” Discord quipped, flicking his tail playfully.
The gates swung open, and they made their way inside. The grand hall was just as Spike remembered—majestic and immaculately kept, though it felt quieter now, almost eerily so. As they entered the throne room, they saw Celestia seated on her dais, reading a scroll. Her ethereal mane shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows.
“Oh!” Celestia exclaimed, her regal composure slipping for just a moment. She set the scroll aside, rising to her hooves. “Spike. Discord. This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”
“Heya, Celestia,” Spike said, his deep voice carrying a note of nostalgia.
“Hey, Sunbutt,” Discord added with a cheeky grin.
Celestia chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one.” Her expression softened, her tone tinged with warmth. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen either of you. Not since dear Fluttershy passed, I believe.”
Discord’s smile faltered, the mention of Fluttershy stirring memories that still felt raw. Spike placed a reassuring claw on Discord’s shoulder. “Yeah,” Spike said. “We’ve been... taking some time to think. Reflecting, I guess.”
Celestia stepped down from her throne, her hooves echoing softly against the marble floor. “I understand. Loss has a way of demanding reflection. But I’m glad you’re here now.” Her gaze lingered on Spike. “You’ve grown even more, haven’t you?”
Spike nodded. “Yeah, I guess I have. Hard to notice it day by day, but I’m definitely bigger than the last time we visited.”
“And wiser, I imagine,” Celestia said with a gentle smile. She turned to Discord. “And you, Discord? How have you been faring?”
Discord twirled the scarf around his arm absentmindedly. “Oh, you know. Chaos here, chaos there. But it’s not quite the same without certain ponies around to appreciate it.”
Celestia’s expression grew somber, and she nodded in understanding. “It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? To outlive those who meant so much to us. Yet, we carry them with us in everything we do.”
Spike glanced at Discord, who gave a subtle nod. “That’s why we’re here,” Spike said. “We’ve been stuck in our routines, and... it just felt like time to reach out. To reconnect.”
Celestia’s smile returned, warm and welcoming. “You’re always welcome here, both of you. And I know Luna will be delighted to see you as well.”
“Speaking of which,” Discord said, looking around theatrically, “where is the little night owl?”
“She’s overseeing some diplomatic matters with the Kirin,” Celestia explained. “She’ll be back by evening.”
“Well, I suppose that gives us time to catch up,” Spike said. “It’s been years since I’ve walked these halls.”
Celestia’s eyes sparkled. “Then let me show you around. Some things have changed, but I think you’ll find many things as you remember them.”
As they followed Celestia through the castle, Spike felt a bittersweet wave of nostalgia wash over him. Every corner, every tapestry, and every corridor held memories—of Twilight, of the Elements, of adventures that once felt eternal. Discord, too, seemed quieter than usual, his eyes flicking toward little details that might have gone unnoticed by others.
“Do you ever feel it?” Spike asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “The weight of time?”
Celestia paused, turning to look at him. “Every day,” she admitted softly. “But it’s not just a burden. It’s also a gift—a reminder of what we’ve shared, and what we can still do.”
Spike nodded, her words sinking in. They continued their tour, the three of them walking together through the castle that had seen so much of their shared history.
For a moment, as the sunlight streamed through the windows and laughter echoed faintly in the halls, it almost felt like the old days.
But only almost.
Author's Note
HOLY SHIT I COMPLETELY FORGOT PINKIE PIES DEATH (I will add that to One Left in a minute oml I’m so dumb.)
Spike stood motionless, his emerald eyes fixated on the mural of Twilight Sparkle’s ascension to alicornhood. The hall was a breathtaking gallery, with each pane of glass capturing moments etched in Equestrian history. From the rise of the Two Sisters to the defeat of Tirek, every significant event was immortalized here. Yet, this pane was different—it was personal.
He let his gaze linger on the image of Twilight, frozen mid-smile, the sunlight filtering through the intricate glasswork and casting dancing patterns of purple and gold across the floor. She seemed so alive, her wings outstretched as if she might take flight at any moment. It wasn’t fair. This piece of glass could bask in her radiance forever while he, her number one assistant, could only remember her through fading memories. He’d never again hear her laugh, her comforting words, or the scribble of her quill late into the night. The thought twisted in his chest, a dull ache that never truly faded.
Spike chuckled bitterly. Jealous of glass? He shook his head at his own absurdity but couldn’t entirely banish the thought.
“You alright, buddy? You’ve been staring at that pane for a long time,” came Discord’s voice, tinged with uncharacteristic concern.
Spike didn’t respond. His claw reached out, trembling slightly, as he traced Twilight’s face on the glass. The illusion of movement caught his eye, her smile seeming to brighten. He blinked, realizing it was only a trick of the light—or maybe his own desperate yearning for something more.
Celestia’s voice broke the silence. “Give him a moment, Discord. It’s been years since he’s seen this. It’s not an easy thing to face.”
Discord nodded solemnly, and the two moved on, leaving Spike alone with his thoughts. He let out a slow, shaky breath, his forehead resting against the cool surface of the mural. “Twilight,” he whispered. “I miss you so much.”
“I know how you feel,” a soft, somber voice said from behind him.
Spike turned his head slightly, catching Luna’s reflection in the glass before she stepped forward to stand beside him. “Oh?” he asked, his tone neutral but heavy with unspoken emotions.
“My sister and I have walked this world for millennia,” Luna began, her gaze distant. “We have seen countless souls rise to greatness, overcome trials, and eventually fall to the inevitability of time. Twilight was special. She was supposed to endure, to be with us for centuries more. But fate can be cruel, and even alicorns are not immune to its reach. Her loss is a burden we all carry, Spike. But know this: you are not alone in your grief. Twilight would be so proud of you.”
Spike’s jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving the mural. “I’ve heard that so many times. But why me? Why do I have to keep watching everyone I love disappear?”
Luna’s eyes softened, and she placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “The passage of time is relentless. It spares no one, not even those like myself or Discord, who may endure longer than most. But your longevity, Spike, is a gift. Unlike Discord and me, who may only end by unnatural means, you have a definitive end—a point where you will reunite with those you love. It’s a bittersweet blessing. Do not waste it mourning what has been lost. Treasure the time you have left, for it is precious beyond measure.”
Spike’s voice wavered as he responded. “I wish I had your courage, Luna. Do you… do you know how much time I have left?”
Luna’s expression grew contemplative. “Dragons are rare and remarkable creatures. Few succumb to old age, and those who do often live extraordinary lives. The shortest-lived dragons I’ve encountered survived between 150 and 200 years. You, Spike, are strong, healthy, and still so young. If the fates are kind, I would estimate you have at least another 350 years to explore this world and its wonders.”
Spike sighed deeply, the weight of those centuries pressing down on him like an invisible shroud. “Another 350 years,” he murmured. “What am I supposed to do with all that time?”
“Live,” Luna said simply. “Explore the lands beyond Equestria. Forge new friendships. Honor Twilight’s memory by embracing the lessons she taught you. She believed in the magic of connection, Spike. Let that guide you, even as the sands of time test your resolve.”
Spike nodded, though he still felt uncertain. “Thanks, Luna. I… I’ll try.”
Luna smiled faintly, a mix of sadness and encouragement in her expression. “That’s all anyone can ask.”
As she walked away to rejoin Celestia and Discord, Spike remained before the mural. He traced Twilight’s image one last time before stepping back. The ache in his chest hadn’t disappeared, but Luna’s words left a small, flickering light in the darkness of his thoughts.
“Live,” he repeated to himself. Perhaps it was time to start figuring out what that truly meant.
Chapter 4: The Sands of Time
Time Since the Death of Twilight Sparkle: 235 Years
Spike sat alone. He sat alone a lot.
The Carousel Boutique had become more of a mausoleum than a home. Dust clung to the air, settling on the faded fabrics and forgotten mannequins. The once-vivid colors of Rarity’s world-renowned designs were dulled by time. It had been over five years since Spike had given up trying to preserve the boutique’s charm. The walls sagged, the roof leaked, and the scent of lavender that Rarity had so loved was now just a faint memory.
He sat in the middle of it all, motionless. His emerald eyes stared into the dim light, tracing the silhouette of a broken sewing machine. Time didn’t just pass in this place—it lingered, pressing down on everything, including Spike’s heart.
He hadn’t been outside in weeks. Or was it months? Time blurred together for him now. The fear of forging new friendships and the inevitable pain of losing them had wrapped itself around his mind, a suffocating cycle of grief and isolation. The world outside continued to turn, yet Spike remained still, anchored to the memories of those long gone.
But something inside him stirred that day. He couldn’t place why, but he stood. His joints ached as he stretched, dust falling from his massive frame like snow. He stepped outside, the sunlight startling his eyes.
And that’s when he saw it.
In the courtyard of the boutique was a small gathering—a party. Streamers waved lazily in the breeze, and a modest cake sat on a table surrounded by smiling faces.
The sight confused him. Who would throw a party here? He squinted and recognized two ponies among the group. Key Lime Pie, Pinkie Pie’s great-great-granddaughter, was bouncing with a familiar, infectious energy. Beside her stood Emerald, Rarity’s great-great-granddaughter, her poise and grace mirroring that of her ancestor.
“Oh, hello,” Spike said, his voice cracking from disuse.
“Surprise!” Key Lime Pie called out in a high-pitched, cheerful tone.
Emerald smiled warmly. “Happy birthday, Spike!”
Spike blinked. “My... birthday?” His claws scratched at the back of his neck. “I think you’ve got the wrong day.”
“Nope!” Key Lime Pie said, producing a calendar from seemingly nowhere. “It’s your 255th birthday, silly! See? Marked it right here!”
Emerald giggled. “You forgot your own birthday? That’s so you, Spike.”
Spike stared at them, overwhelmed. “I can’t believe this... It’s been so long since anyone’s celebrated my birthday. I think I forgot it myself.”
Key Lime Pie bounded over and wrapped her small hooves around his leg in a warm hug. “You were so important to our great-great-grandparents. It’s the least we can do!”
Those words hit him like a tidal wave. A century of isolation, of mourning, of fear—it all broke loose at once. Tears welled in his eyes, and before he could stop himself, he fell to his knees, weeping.
Emerald rushed forward, her expression panicked. “Spike! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Key Lime Pie stepped back, her wide eyes filled with worry. “Did I say something bad?”
Spike shook his head, unable to speak through the sobs wracking his chest. His claws dug into the dirt as his massive form trembled.
Emerald placed a hoof gently on his shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re not alone.” Her voice was soft but firm, grounding him in the moment.
After what felt like an eternity, Spike managed to calm down. His tears slowed, and he wiped at his face, though the sorrow still lingered in his eyes. He looked at them both, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thank you,” he said. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I haven’t felt this kind of love in... a century.”
Key Lime Pie tilted her head, a sad frown tugging at her lips. “Spike... you’ve been alone all this time?”
He nodded. “I closed myself off after everyone I cared about was gone. I thought it was easier that way—avoiding new friendships meant avoiding new heartbreak. But... I see now how wrong I was.” He paused, looking at them with a small, hopeful smile. “This is what Twilight would have wanted. She believed in the magic of friendship, even when I didn’t.”
Key Lime Pie’s smile returned, wide and genuine. “Twilight sounds like she was amazing!”
“She was,” Spike said, his voice steadying. He scooped up both ponies in his massive arms, holding them gently. “And you two... you’re my first friends in over a century.”
Emerald wiped a tear from her own eye, laughing softly. “We’re honored, Spike.”
The three of them stayed like that for a moment, the weight of the years lifting slightly from Spike’s heart.
The party was small, but it was perfect. Key Lime Pie and Emerald had brought cupcakes, banners, and even a few old trinkets passed down from their ancestors. Spike recognized a locket that had once belonged to Pinkie Pie and a bolt of fabric that had been one of Rarity’s favorites.
They talked and laughed, sharing stories of their great-great-grandparents. Spike told them tales of Pinkie’s endless energy and Rarity’s dramatic flair, his voice rich with nostalgia. For the first time in ages, he felt alive, truly alive.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of orange and purple, Spike realized something he hadn’t felt in decades.
Hope.
Key Lime Pie and Emerald stayed until the stars began to twinkle, their laughter echoing in the quiet night. When they finally left, promising to visit again soon, Spike stood outside the boutique, staring up at the sky.
For the first time in years, the emptiness inside him didn’t feel so overwhelming. He still missed Twilight, Rarity, and the others—it was a pain he knew would never fully leave. But now, there was room for something else alongside that pain.
Friendship.
As the night deepened, Spike turned back to the Carousel Boutique. He looked around at the crumbling walls and the dusty mannequins. Maybe it was time for a change.
Tomorrow, he thought, I’ll start cleaning up.
And for the first time in over a century, Spike went to bed with a smile on his face, dreaming not of the past but of the future.
Time Since the Death of Twilight Sparkle: 275 years
Spike had grown close to Key Lime Pie and Emerald over the years. Their visits brought life back into his lonely existence, their laughter filling the halls of the restored Carousel Boutique. Watching them grow, learn, and thrive reminded him of his early days with Twilight and the others. It wasn’t just them who grew, though—Spike found himself changing too.
He reached his final height of a staggering 35 feet, towering over most beings, including Discord. His wings stretched wide, their span casting shadows over the small town of Ponyville. He now resembled the legendary dragons of old, both in size and presence. Despite his intimidating stature, his heart remained tender, perhaps more so now than ever.
The boutique was in better shape, thanks to the efforts of a local historian and her team of preservationists. Together, they worked tirelessly to maintain the building’s integrity, transforming it from a crumbling relic into a fitting tribute to Rarity’s legacy. The dust was gone, replaced with elegance and warmth. Spike felt that, for the first time in centuries, Rarity would have approved.
His circle of connections had expanded too. Jonagold, Apple Bloom’s great-granddaughter, now ran Sweet Apple Acres, her children playing in the orchards much as Applejack’s family had done generations before. Flurry Heart visited from the Crystal Empire, her appearances infrequent but always heartfelt.
Most of all, there was Key Lime Pie and Emerald. They came often, regaling Spike with tales of their adventures. They brought laughter, companionship, and a reminder of why life was worth living. For a time, Spike felt genuinely happy.
Yet beneath the joy lingered a familiar fear.
When Spike watched Key Lime Pie and Emerald, he couldn’t help but imagine the inevitable. He saw the years creeping in, dulling their bright eyes and slowing their energetic steps. He pictured himself standing over yet another grave, his heart heavy with loss. The thought gnawed at him, stealing the peace he so desperately wanted to hold onto.
One night, as rain gently tapped against the boutique’s windows, Spike sat alone in the quiet. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. He stared into the flames, his claws resting on his knees.
“I won’t watch them leave,” he muttered to himself. His deep voice reverberated through the empty space. “I’m sorry, but I cannot watch them leave. I hate living like this. I hate... how long I’ve lived.”
The words felt foreign yet honest. Spike hadn’t truly confronted this thought before. He had always been too busy surviving, holding onto the threads of connection he could still grasp. But now, as he sat in the silence of his own mind, he realized just how deeply he resented his longevity.
Twilight had always called his lifespan a gift, but it had long since felt like a curse. He wasn’t just mourning his past anymore—he was dreading his future. He dreaded the day when Key Lime Pie and Emerald would be gone, leaving him to wander the earth once more, burdened by memories and regret.
He made his decision that night.
“I’m sorry, Key Lime, Emerald... but I cannot bear to witness another one of you leave.” His voice cracked as he whispered, “So say goodbye to me. I’m ready.”
The next morning, Spike ventured into Ponyville. The town was lively, as it always was, with ponies going about their daily routines. Spike’s massive form drew stares, but he hardly noticed. He made his way to a small pharmacy tucked away near the town square.
The clerk, a middle-aged earth pony with kind eyes, looked up as Spike ducked through the doorway. His expression shifted to concern when he saw what Spike placed on the counter—a small bottle of cyanide pills.
“Hey, big guy,” the clerk said cautiously. “You sure about this? I mean, it’s been hard for everyone, but...” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “You should really think about this.”
Spike placed a handful of bits on the counter. “I have,” he replied, his tone cold and resolute.
The clerk hesitated, glancing between the bottle and Spike’s somber expression. “I won’t stop you,” he said quietly. “But I believe there are ponies who would miss you.”
Spike let out a bitter chuckle. “I’ve missed enough.”
The clerk sighed and rang up the purchase. As Spike left, the pony watched him go, a deep sadness settling over him.
Spike returned to the boutique, cradling the bottle in his claws. He sat by the fire, staring at the small container. Memories flooded his mind—Twilight’s laughter, Rarity’s elegance, Pinkie’s boundless joy. And now, the faces of Key Lime Pie and Emerald joined them.
He filled a mug with hot chocolate, letting its warmth spread through his claws. “This was my favorite,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He dropped one of the pills into the drink and watched as it dissolved.
Lifting the mug, he hesitated.
Do I really want this? he thought.
His claws trembled as he held the mug closer. Twilight’s voice echoed in his mind, as clear as if she were standing beside him.
“Spike, no matter what happens, you’ve got to keep going. You’re stronger than you think.”
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His heart ached, torn between despair and the faintest glimmer of hope. He thought of Key Lime Pie and Emerald, of how they had brought light back into his life. He thought of their laughter, their love, and their unwavering belief in him.
What would they think?
Spike lowered the mug, staring into its swirling contents. He thought about the life he still had, the connections he could still make. Maybe Twilight was right. Maybe he was stronger than he believed.
But the weight of centuries pressed down on him, and in that moment, he couldn’t see past it.
He drank.
The rain poured down hard the next day, the storm matching the somber mood of those gathered in Ponyville Cemetery. Discord, Luna, Key Lime Pie, and Emerald stood before Spike’s freshly dug grave.
Key Lime Pie sobbed openly, her voice cracking as she cried, “Why, Spike? Why would you do this? We were here for you... we loved you.”
Emerald placed a trembling hoof on Key Lime’s shoulder, her own tears streaming down her face. “Spike... you taught us so much. I just wish we could have done more for you.” She placed a large sapphire on the grave, her hooves lingering on the cold stone before stepping back.
Luna bowed her head, her voice quiet but firm. “Spike, I hope you have found peace in the choice you made. But know that you will be missed. Deeply.” She turned and walked away, her starry mane shimmering in the rain.
Discord lingered, his chaotic energy subdued. He placed a claw on the gravestone, his mismatched eyes filled with sorrow.
“Buddy,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “You were the only one left. The last piece of what we had... and now you’re gone too.” He paused, swallowing hard. “Why, Spike? I thought you were braver than that.”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “Take care of Fluttershy for me, will you? Wherever you are.”
With that, Discord turned away, leaving the grave in silence, surrounded only by the rain and the memories of a dragon who had lived too long and loved too deeply.
Spike was surprised to find himself opening his eyes once again. The last thing he remembered was the warmth of hot chocolate sliding down his throat, bittersweet and final. Yet now, he stood in an ethereal, endless landscape, an expanse of mist and shifting light. His massive frame felt light, unburdened by the years, but the weight of his regrets pressed heavily on his chest.
As he walked, Spike’s clawed feet made no sound on the shimmering ground beneath him. The horizon seemed to stretch infinitely, shifting like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. Despite the stillness, there was a current in the air, like a clock endlessly ticking in the background.
Suddenly, he noticed a small presence beside him. Glancing down, he froze. There, walking alongside him, was a tiny version of himself—young, innocent, and wide-eyed. It was the Spike of a distant past, untouched by the burdens of time and loss.
“What… Who are you?” Spike asked, his deep voice reverberating through the stillness.
The small Spike smiled softly and replied, “I’m you. Or, at least, the part of you you’ve been trying to forget.”
Spike furrowed his brow, confusion blending with unease. The smaller version of himself continued walking as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Reluctantly, Spike followed, his steps echoing in the surreal void.
“I know you’ve walked Equestria a hundred times over,” the small Spike said, his tone curious and tinged with sadness. “But are you sure this was worth it?”
Spike’s jaw tightened, and he nodded, his massive shoulders rising and falling. “I couldn’t bear the weight of time anymore,” he said quietly, though his voice carried the conviction of someone trying to convince themselves.
The small Spike stopped and turned to face him. His bright green eyes glimmered, reflecting emotions the elder Spike had buried. “And yet, in ending your burden, you passed it onto those who loved you. They’re carrying the weight of your choice now.”
Spike’s claws curled into fists. “You don’t know me,” he growled, but the words sounded hollow.
The smaller Spike tilted his head. “Don’t I?” he replied. “I’m you. I know every doubt, every fear, and every moment of despair. I’m the part of you you’ve been running from, the part that knew this was a mistake the moment you decided it.”
The elder Spike huffed and turned away, unwilling to meet the gaze of his younger self. “I get to see my friends again,” he said, the words defensive and tinged with desperation. “That’s all that matters.”
The small Spike sighed and placed a tiny claw on Spike’s chest. The elder dragon felt a strange, cold sensation, as if his very soul had been touched. “And yet, you abandoned the ones who still needed you. Key Lime, Emerald, Discord… You left them with no choice but to mourn you. They were your friends, too.”
Spike’s shoulders sagged, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. “I was tired,” he said weakly. “Tired of losing everyone.”
The small Spike nodded solemnly. “I know. But they were tired, too, and they stayed. They stayed for you. You didn’t stay for them.”
As the smaller Spike began to fade, his final words lingered in the air, sharp and cutting. “I hope you’re happy with your decisions, coward.”
Spike closed his eyes, but when he opened them, the smaller version of himself was gone. He was alone again, but the words echoed in his mind, louder than ever. “Coward,” they whispered, over and over, until they became an unrelenting chorus.
Ahead of him, a massive gate appeared, its surface glowing faintly as it creaked open. Beyond the threshold, Spike could see a soft, golden light. He stepped forward hesitantly, the ground beneath him shifting with each step.
Then, he saw her.
Twilight Sparkle stood just beyond the gate, her violet coat shimmering in the ethereal glow. Her wings were folded neatly at her sides, and her eyes, filled with warmth and wisdom, locked onto his. She looked just as she had in life, her presence radiating comfort and understanding.
“Well,” Twilight said softly, her voice carrying a bittersweet warmth. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a new face.”
Spike’s breath caught in his throat, and his massive frame trembled. The sight of her broke something deep within him, a dam that had held back centuries of grief and longing. Tears flowed freely down his scaled cheeks as he dropped to his knees.
“I… I’m sorry,” Spike choked out, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t— I couldn’t keep going.”
Twilight stepped closer, her expression a mixture of love and sadness. She reached out with a hoof, gently touching his claw. The sensation was strange—warm and grounding, yet otherworldly.
“I know, Spike,” she said gently. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
Spike’s tears fell harder, his chest heaving with sobs. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. “I missed all of you.”
Twilight’s eyes glistened, but she kept her composure. “We missed you too, Spike. But you weren’t alone. Even when we were gone, you had others who cared about you.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore,” Spike admitted. “I couldn’t keep losing them.”
Twilight nodded, her gaze understanding. “I don’t blame you. None of us do. But the ones you left behind… they’re still hurting.”
Spike flinched, the words cutting deeply. “What do I do now?” he asked, his voice small and broken.
Twilight smiled gently, though her eyes betrayed the weight of what she was about to say. “That’s up to you, Spike. The Veil of Fate isn’t a place of answers—it’s a place of reflection. You’ve made your choice, and now you have to live with it.”
Spike’s heart sank. He had expected relief, maybe even redemption, but instead, he was faced with the enormity of his decision. He looked down at Twilight, his tears falling onto the ethereal ground.
“I just wanted to be with you again,” he said, his voice trembling.
Twilight leaned closer, her presence warm and reassuring. “And you are, Spike. But remember this—your story didn’t end with you. It continues in those you left behind. What you taught them, what you shared with them… that’s your legacy.”
Spike closed his eyes, the weight of her words sinking in. When he opened them again, Twilight was still there, her comforting smile unwavering. For the first time in centuries, Spike felt a glimmer of something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
As he stood beside her, the golden light of the gate grew brighter, enveloping them both. Somewhere in the distance, the ticking of the unseen clock grew softer, its rhythm slowing, until it was no more.
Author's Note
Oml I am crying again wtf
Chapter 7: Even Gods Fall
Time Since the Death of Twilight Sparkle: 450 Years
Discord sat alone in the quiet of a fading afternoon, the chaotic energy that had once defined him now a distant echo. He had become numb to the cycle of death and rebirth, the endless loss of those he cherished. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel it anymore—oh, he felt it deeply—but after centuries of goodbyes, grief had become an old, familiar companion.
Even Spike, the one he believed might outlast them all, was gone. Discord had never imagined he would see the day when the great dragon, so resilient, so steadfast, would take his final bow. And yet, that day had come and gone, leaving Discord with a hollow ache where his closest companion once stood.
But Discord was never truly alone. No, far from it. Over the centuries, he had learned to cherish the fleeting connections of life. Friends came and went, and though each loss tore at his heart, he refused to wall himself off. Fluttershy had taught him the value of kindness, of opening his heart to others, even knowing they might one day leave him.
So he made friends. He learned about their hopes and dreams, laughed with them, cried with them, and shared in their joys. And when their time came, he mourned them, but he didn’t stop. He made new friends, carried their stories with him, and continued on.
There was one unshakable truth that kept him going: Fluttershy would have wanted this. She would have wanted him to embrace the world, to share the love and laughter she had brought into his life with as many as he could. He wanted to make her proud, even if she wasn’t there to see it.
Discord became a mentor to those who sought wisdom, a trickster to those who needed a spark of chaos, and a companion to those who simply needed someone to listen. To the ponies who knew him now, he was a legend—not the mischievous terror of old, but a being of boundless energy and compassion, always ready to help in his peculiar way.
But even legends grow tired.
For centuries, Discord had carried on, but the weight of eternity pressed heavily upon him. He had lived long enough to see the sun and moon themselves retire, with Celestia and Luna handing the reins of Equestria to new rulers. And though he smiled and joked as he always had, a part of him longed for rest.
One day, he visited the castle—once Celestia’s and Luna’s, now a seat of history and reverence. The two sisters still resided there, their immortality granting them a unique perspective on the world. When Discord entered the grand hall, his usual swagger was absent. He walked with purpose, his mismatched steps echoing off the marble floors.
Celestia and Luna were waiting for him, their serene expressions masking a deep understanding.
“I’m ready,” Discord said simply, bowing his head.
The sisters exchanged a glance. They had known this moment would come, though it didn’t make it any easier.
“You are certain?” Celestia asked gently.
Discord nodded. “I’ve thought about it for a long time. I’ve made sure my current batch of friends has all the tools they need to carry on without me. I didn’t want to leave anyone behind, not without making sure they could manage.”
Luna stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. “You have done more than enough, Discord. You have honored your friends, your past, and yourself. Fluttershy would be proud.”
A rare, genuine smile graced Discord’s face at her words. “I hope so,” he said, his voice tinged with emotion. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I just… I just want to see her again.”
The sisters nodded, their horns glowing softly as they prepared to grant Discord’s final request.
He lay down on the polished floor, his serpentine body curling in on itself. “Take care of the world for me, would you?” he murmured.
Celestia and Luna stepped closer, their magic weaving together in a radiant display of gold and silver light. It enveloped Discord, gently stripping away the chaotic energy that had sustained him for so long.
As the light grew brighter, Discord closed his eyes, a peaceful smile on his lips. His last thoughts were of Fluttershy—her gentle voice, her kind eyes, and the way she had changed his life forever.
The magic faded, leaving only stillness. Discord lay motionless, a serene expression frozen on his face.
Celestia and Luna stood over him, their gazes heavy with sorrow. They had seen countless souls pass through the veil of time, but this one felt different. Discord had been so much more than chaos. He had been a friend, a teacher, a protector, and a force of change in a world that often resisted it.
“Rest well, old friend,” Celestia whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
Luna placed a hoof on Discord’s lion paw, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “May you find the peace you sought.”
Together, they stood in silence, their hearts heavy with loss. But deep within, they felt a small comfort, knowing that Discord was finally where he longed to be—reunited with the one who had shown him what it meant to truly live.
Discord walked the path every one of his friends had taken before him. The warmth of the ethereal plane wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, comforting and eternal. Each step felt deliberate, as though the very ground beneath him had been designed to honor the long journey he had traveled. The sights around him were an ever-shifting tapestry of colors and memories, showing glimpses of the lives he had touched and the moments he had shared.
The air was alive with echoes of laughter, whispers of love, and the quiet hum of contentment. He felt no fear—only peace, guided by the presence of every soul that had mattered to him. Their influence pushed him forward: the unyielding determination of his bravest friends, the gentle encouragement of his kindest, and the jubilant energy of the most spirited. They were with him, not as shadows of the past but as living imprints upon his heart.
Discord felt his steps grow lighter as the memories of his life paraded before him. Trumpets rang out in his mind, each note a celebration of the joy he had brought and the lives he had touched. He smiled as he mentally closed each chapter of his story, one by one, all leading to the book he had longed to open since his first friend moved on.
Before him loomed the gate. It was not imposing, nor did it inspire trepidation. It radiated a quiet welcome, a final threshold between the life he had lived and the reunion he had awaited. Slowly, it opened, creaking softly as though to honor the gravity of the moment.
Beyond the gate, a figure awaited him. Her eyes were kind, her smile gentle, and her presence as calming as the first light of dawn.
"You did good," Fluttershy said, her voice as soft and reassuring as Discord had remembered. "You don’t know how proud we are of you. How proud I am of you."
Discord stared at her for a moment, disbelief and relief warring within him. He stepped forward, his mismatched form trembling with emotion, and embraced her. The world around them seemed to pause as he held her, the chaos of his past giving way to a perfect stillness he had never known.
"You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear your voice again, Fluttershy," Discord said, his voice breaking.
She held him tighter. "And I’ve been waiting to see you again."
As they walked together through the verdant fields beyond the gate, Discord felt his spirit lighten further. There was no rush here, no clock ticking down the moments. It was an eternity made for savoring. The horizon stretched endlessly, painted with colors that no mortal could ever describe.
Fluttershy led him to a quiet grove where a group of familiar faces awaited him. Twilight Sparkle, Spike, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and others from his long life—all were there, greeting him with smiles and tears of joy.
“Look at you, Discord,” Twilight said, stepping forward. “It’s good to see you again.”
Spike gave a toothy grin. “Took you long enough.”
Discord chuckled, wiping away a tear. “Well, you know me. I like to make an entrance.”
Rainbow Dash smirked. “Yeah, some things never change.”
The reunion was filled with laughter and reminiscing, a tapestry of memories woven with love and friendship. Discord couldn’t remember a time he felt more at home.
As the days—or was it centuries?—passed in this timeless realm, Discord found solace in the knowledge that he had lived a life worth remembering. His friends shared stories of their lives, their triumphs, and their struggles. They celebrated the lives they had built and the bonds they had formed, knowing that each choice and sacrifice had led them to this eternal peace.
But even in paradise, Discord couldn’t help but reflect on the lessons he had learned.
“I used to think eternity was my curse,” he admitted one day as he and Fluttershy sat beneath a tree. “It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me, watching everyone I cared for fade away. But now I see it wasn’t a curse at all.”
Fluttershy tilted her head, her expression as patient as ever. “What changed your mind?”
“It was you. All of you.” Discord gestured toward their gathered friends in the distance. “Every soul I met, every laugh we shared—it made the burden worth it. And now, I see that even in loss, there’s something beautiful. You gave me that.”
Fluttershy reached out, placing a hoof on his paw. “And you gave us so much more than you realize, Discord. You showed us that even chaos has a place in harmony. That love can come from the most unexpected places.”
Discord smiled, his mismatched eyes glimmering with gratitude. “Thank you, Fluttershy. For everything.”
Though the realm of eternity offered no end, Discord often found himself revisiting his memories. He would walk through landscapes of his own creation, each one a snapshot of a cherished moment. He stood once again in Fluttershy’s cottage, the warmth of her kindness filling the air. He strolled through Ponyville’s bustling streets, hearing the echoes of laughter and life.
One day, as he wandered through these recollections, he paused before a memory of himself standing before the graves of his friends. He had been so lost then, so consumed by the pain of their absence.
“You were braver than you knew,” came a voice behind him.
Discord turned to see Twilight Sparkle, her ethereal form glowing softly.
“Was I?” he asked, his tone uncertain.
Twilight nodded. “You kept going. Even when it hurt, even when you wanted to give up, you chose to keep living. That takes more courage than most realize.”
Discord smiled faintly. “I suppose I did, didn’t I?”
“You did. And because of that, you brought so much light into the lives of others.” Twilight stepped closer, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “We’re all proud of you, Discord. Every single one of us.”
The realm beyond the veil was infinite, yet Discord never felt lost. Each day was a new opportunity to explore, to learn, and to grow alongside those he loved. And though the weight of his past would never fully leave him, he carried it with pride, knowing it was a testament to the life he had lived.
And so, in the company of his dearest friends, Discord found peace. He had walked the path of memory, faced the trials of eternity, and emerged whole.
The chaos in his heart had finally settled, leaving only the harmony he had sought for so long.
Author's Note
Dude. I can’t.