Prime

by Rolai Eckolo

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Sad
Length: 16704

Spike has spent his whole life running from his past. Now it's time to confront his fears, embrace his heritage, and learn the TRUE meaning of Friendship.

Spike has spent his entire life trying to escape the memories of the past. As an old dragon now, he realizes that his days may actually be coming to an end after some "old friends" drop by to pay him a visit.

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Keep in mind, I started writing this before S3 and S4 (hence the "Alternate Universe" tag), so in staying relevant to canon my story is totally f%#$ed. Hope that doesn't throw too many people off.

This story has been on hiatus for a while now, and I'm deciding to publish it just so I can improve my own writing by learning from the criticism of others. So criticize all you please; it helps me greatly. However, when you do, keep in mind that I'm going to be looking for some kind of example or instance where "It's boring" or "The characters don't seem quite right…" So just make sure to clarify! Happy Reading! ^_^

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-08 00:38:48 UTC

Obscurity (Prologue)

A lot of things happened that fateful day.  And even though nopony could quite explain, they knew.

Because even though heroes fall into history as legends and myths, the memories remain within us.  They stay alive through those who remember them, and that is why heroes never truly die.

Because though they fade, they are still there, in all of our hearts.

Their actions are commemorated, their deeds not forgotten.  Their legacies are taught throughout history.  The future is molded from their image.  It is in the stories ponies tell their foals.

But they are still there.

We celebrate their victories, and mourn their passing.  We recognize their sacrifices.  We note their failures, their successes.  And we remember.

But why?

Because the heroes are still there.

Because no matter how the plot is twisted, no matter how the details are rearranged and soiled, the true story still lives on.

Because we know that the heroes were real, even if we choose to ignore it.

We remember because they remembered too.  They remembered their sacrifices, their failures, their successes, their flaws, their story.

Their words were kind, and guided them along the path of courage.

Their symbols and actions are shown through those who are taught them, and will shine brighter than any star through whatever darkness lurks in the shadows.

In their presence, Harmony prevails.

So even though we push on through life, with the stories and the myths and the legends behind us...

We remember.

Awaking to the Twilight

Blurred images spun into a revolving spiral of darkness, a vortex of cavernous depth swirling beneath him.  A thick layer of frigid ice suddenly seized and engulfed his thoughts, shrouding all semblance of rationality in a cloak of freezing misperception.  Behind the glacial veil of confusion, his mind lay deep in the recesses of his subconscious, struggling to pierce through the frost-bound barrier surrounding his mentality.  He fought to regain control, putting every ounce of effort into breaking the boundary.  Suddenly, everything became pitch black.  Then, his eyes shot open, a gasp escaping his lips.

He lifted himself up off of the ground, feeling the slick icy floor beneath him as he did.  He noticed the small, delicate claw touching the floor and connecting to his arm.  Was it his own?  He stood up, examining his features.  He was young again, roughly around the age that he was when he was living with... the thought left his stomach clenched in a knot, the memories rushing back once again.  He looked up, observing his surroundings.  His vision was understandable now, although what he saw was not quite normal.  The supposedly incorporeal walls of frost around him had materialized into tangible, existing matter.  He walked up, touching the barrier with the palm of his hand.

What kind of --

Without warning, the icy enclosure around him began to melt.  He jumped back, widening his stance defensively in an attempt to display some sort of aggression.  However, his infantile form was about as menacing as a kitten, so the pose's intended result was slightly less than successful.  When the last of the chamber finally trickled to the floor, he was blasted with bright, golden rays of warmth and luminosity.  He shielded his eyes from the lustrous streaks of yellow and orange.  When he peaked a glance under his forearm, his shoulders dropped, arms falling to his sides.  There, in front of him, stood an image he never thought he would see again.

It was her.

"I told you that you would see us again."  Her voice washed over him with an unseen miasma of joy, happiness, and serene warmth.  From behind her appeared five distinct shapes he had nearly forgotten, seeming at first as mere silhouettes, obscure and mysterious against the bright golden light shining behind her. "Spike," she beckoned, "It's almost time."

There were no words he could place into a sentence that would express what he felt now.  He was flooded with a wave of disbelief.  After all this time... could it be?  No, he thought, that's impossible.  However, as she slowly approached him, the figures behind her moved closer as well, their visages becoming clearer and more apparent, and the part of his rational mind that protested was dismissed.

"It's been a long time." she said, stopping short.  Her mane was a brilliant lavender, with that same familiar pink streak.  She appeared to be almost gleaming with a sort of radiant youth, her light violet coat vibrant and clean.

"Twilight?"

She smiled warmly before replying.  "Yes.  It is me, Spike."  She paused, allowing him a second to process.  "I have brought the others as well."  Glancing sideways, she turned her head to face the mysterious shapes.  When she turned back, she smiled again.  "We have missed you, Spike."

He stood, still dumbfounded at the sight of her.  Every part of him screamed to move forward and embrace her, but he feared that by doing so, whatever was happening would end, and he would be left alone once again.  So many years spent wishing he could go back, wishing he could see the pony in front of him again.  So long had he waited.  He was not going to allow himself to lose this moment.

As if she had read his mind, she ushered him forward, beaming softly.  "It's okay, Spike.  Nothing will happen.  We have been granted this allotment with you to reconcile, and to convey a message.  However, the latter may wait.  The essence of time has slowed to allow this meeting."  She squinted, as if holding back tears.  "But in the meantime," she reached out her front leg, "come and give me a hug."

He took his first step cautiously, afraid of the possibility that this experience would simply dissipate before him.  When he felt the warm cobblestone beneath his foot, he froze with apprehension.  A pulse of relief caused him to take another step, which soon turned into a run, which very quickly escalated to a sprint.  Every bit of desire that he had ever felt to see her again filled his body as he ran toward the mare.

He jumped, feeling the rush of air through his thin scales.  When he knocked into her at full speed, they both toppled over.  His entire being flooded with emotion as he lay on her stomach, closing his eyes and smelling her sweet lavender fur.  She laughed as he lay there, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"What's up, kiddo'?" asked another familiar voice; it sounded stronger, more audible, and yet gentle.  Spike looked up to see none other than the Element of Loyalty.  Her bright cyan coat glistened with the multi-spectral mane she was sporting, her dazzling amethyst eyes staring at him as he lay atop Twilight's stomach.  The others were now standing above them, wide grins spread across their soft, young faces.

"R-Rainbow Dash... is that really you?"

"The one and only," she repeated her old saying softly.  Spike looked to the others, going counterclockwise in observing the long-missed and near-forgotten faces.

"Fluttershy?"

She spread her grin a little.  "Hello, Spike."

"Applejack?"

The orange mare tipped her hat.  "Howdy there, Spike."

As he said each of their names, memories flashed back in rapid succession, bringing a mix of exhilaration, happiness, fear, and anxiety to his heart.  He stopped at one of them, her coat a glistening white and her violet mane in a curl at the end.  He didn't say anything, but merely smiled widely at her.  She returned the gesture, nodding in response.  He turned back to Twilight.

"Is this really happening?"

"Spike." she said, "I assure you that every single last second of this will be as real as you make of it.  Your future depends on what you witness while we have this time together, so I would listen closely if I were you.  You remember all of those times I would pace the floor in the library?"  He shook his head. "Good," she said, "because I need you to think as hard as I was when I was pacing that floor.  Spike... this is your final test.  I trust that you can do it, though.  I have faith in you."

Applejack bent down to whisper something in Twilight's ear.  Twilight simply nodded her head a couple of times, giving regular uh-huh's.  After Applejack leaned back up, they looked at each other, giving a final shake of their heads.  AJ resumed her position in the circle, and there was a sudden rush of cold.

"Spike." Twilight started.  He suddenly felt as if a tight knot had wrapped itself around his stomach as a noose settled on the inside of his throat.  He knew her tone... and he did not like it.  "I love you very much."  No, not now!  "I'm sorry I had to leave you all of those years ago, but I'm confident that we will be seeing each other again before long."  No!  "And remember," she placed a hoof on his heart, "I am always with you... in here."  NO!!  She tapped his chest gently.  "It's time for us to go, Spike."  He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs as he jumped off of her stomach.

"No, Twilight!  You can't... you can't just leave me alone again!"  More tears began to flow.  "I don't want you to go!"

"Spike," she said as she rolled over onto her stomach to stand up, "You were never alone."  And with that, she brought her head up to his forehead, giving it a kiss that nearly caused him to melt.  The tears continued flowing as she delivered the gift of her soft lips on his head.  She pet him on his young, dull, crest as she lifted herself up.

The other five mares moved back into their original positions, smiling warmly at him as they prepared to leave.  Twilight backed away from him to join the others, and the golden light behind them began to glow with greater intensity.

"Oh, and Spike," she began, "Take a note:  The words of Friendship are kind and many, and will help to show you the way along the path of courage.  The symbols and actions of Friendship are shown in the memories of those who are taught them, and will shine brighter than any star as they light the way through whatever darkness may come.  And finally, the true meaning of Friendship..."  The light began to grow brighter and brighter, causing Spike to lift his arm in front of his eyes once again. "The true meaning of Friendship... is that in its presence, Harmony will prevail, and the sacrifices you make... will never be forgotten."  The light finally reached a peak point of luminosity, blocking any and all view of their surroundings.  "Good-bye for now, Spike."

"Twilight, wait!" he screamed, but his words were nothing but a mere whisper as the ground fell out from beneath him, and once again into the spiraling chasm of darkness.  The last thing he heard was but an echo, a faded statement of obscurity...

"May the Prime guide you, Spike."

*****

His mind went blank for a moment, before violently snapping back to reality.  A thunderous clap erupted throughout the cave as he hit his gigantic head on the ceiling.  A frigid, cold wind was circulating through it.  He raised a claw to rub his pounding cranium, all the while desperately searching for a reasonable explanation to the events he had just witnessed.  His breathing was heavy, and he suddenly realized that he had tears streaming down his snout.

He quickly wiped them off, realizing that it had all just been a dream.  Some dream, he thought to himself.  From outside of the cave, bright orange light cascaded off of walls of crystal and stalactites, reflecting the brilliant sunkist beams throughout the interior.  He got up, feeling his great joints aching as he stretched them out.  He walked to the frame of the entrance, examining the source of glowing radiance.

He observed the expansive, rolling hills of the valley before him.  Around him lie the mountains... a place he's always felt true comfort in.  However, his focus was not of the mountains, but of the features on the horizon.  Beyond the hills and the curving plateau lie a brilliant, magnificent, swirling twilight.  For a second, there was a glint of purple, and then, in a flash, it was gone.

***

That night, Spike stood in the entryway of the cave, arms crossed, a stern look on his face.  He contemplated what could have occurred earlier that day, and came to a fork in the road rather than a straight answer.  He remembered the "event" as clear and vivid... not like a dream, where it seemed like there was no definitive point to anything.  He could still feel the cobblestone beneath his feet, the warm rays shining on him... the smell of Twilight's fur... her voice.  All of these things he could envision so clearly now.  It was paradise to him with the knowledge that he gotten the chance to see all of his friends again, rather than waiting the rest of his life trying to remember the faces of the past, of those who raised him.

Feeling an ache in his heart, he thought back to when Twilight had said that he was never alone.  Even though he still felt abandoned, he found comfort in her words, in the possible fact that he had just seen the ponies he spent so many years wishing he could go back to.  He had heard them speak to him.  He wished it had lasted an eternity, like the rest of his desolate life.

He longed for the clarity of his youth, when things still made sense to him.  Now, none of it was as facile as it once was, always having some sort of disorienting pattern behind matters that were once simple and manageable.  He just wished that everything would stand still and wait for him to recognize it, but as he grew older, so did time fly faster and faster, until months turned into hours, and hours into seconds.  The world as he knew it was more confusing than ever, and all he wanted to do was return... return to a life of simplicity, of clarity... of Friendship.

He shuddered as the cold air nipped at his lungs with each breath, a frigid breeze making a feeble swipe at his legs.  His scales shone against the bright glow of the moon, twinkling like polished metal.  His emerald-green eyes held a certain desperation, a longing that couldn't be fulfilled.  Although he knew that there were still many years to come for him, he wished that it could all just end, that the suffering would come to a halt, and his pain would finally cease to trouble him any longer.

It was on angst and lonely nights like these, which were not such a rare occasion for him, that he would go flying.  The light of the night sky and the peaceful feeling accompanying it had such been etched into his heart now.  It listened, it bode, and it soothed him in his losses.  Ever since he had been young, when he really needed it, it was the melody of the moonlight that comforted him best.

He spread his wings to their maximum length, stretching the old joints and ligaments.  His amethyst scales reflected even more crystalline light now.  With a concussive beat of his wings that shook the very earth around him, he took off into flight.  He reached higher and higher into the frigid northern sky until he found a comfortable air pocket on which to travel.  Just then, the stars erupted in a magnificent display of light.

This far north into the hemisphere, one would assume that this was a somewhat common sight.  However, Spike had only seen this brilliant phenomenon very few times.  As his eyes drifted through the scenery surrounding him, with the mountains below and the lights above, his memory flashed back to a time... one too long ago... a time of Friendship.

*****

Aurora/The First Memory

"The aurora what?" Spike questioned.

"Aurora borealis," she repeated.

Spike was resting on Twilight's back.  Both of them were completely mesmerized as the gleaming array of colors above them showered the land in spectral saturation.  While most ponies simply sat and watched the night sky becoming alive with prismatic color, Twilight preferred to explain the occurrence to everypony within ear-range.  Tonight, it just so happened that Spike was the only one that fit that description.  That was how she'd always been.  So on her back he sat, listening to her as she recalled various facts and figures relating to the event.

As long as she was happy, so was he.

Spike yawned, a wave of warmth washing over him as he snuggled into the scarf around Twilight's neck.  The night air was chilly, but as long as he had her there, there was nothing that could make him feel more safe.  She giggled as he cuddled into her neck.  Both of them sighing, she decided that the not-so-young-anymore dragon on her back needed some rest.  And although he had only changed slightly since her prime years, she knew that he had indeed matured, even if his body did not yet show it.

She made a sideways glance to him, hearing the soft purr of his baby draco slumber.  She smiled.  "I guess that I'll have to wait to tell you the rest."  His low rumble altered for a second, and then regulated.

Twilight kissed him on the forehead. "Good-night, my little assistant," she cooed, "I love you."

She then turned back, smiling as the miraculous array of light above them shone and glittered intensely.  She admired the display for several more minutes as he lay asleep, breathing quietly so as not to wake him.  Her breath was thick against the chilled night air.  With a glow of her horn, she conjured a scroll and quill, and began to write.

Dear Princess Celestia,

It's been a little while since I have written you.  I'm finding that time is harder to keep track of as I grow ever older.  However, I wish to contact you on a very specific subject that has troubled me recently as I think about it more.

I seem to have discovered that, as I go on through my years and continue throughout my adventures, I more often than not catch myself falling into the old memories of the times I had with my friends.  I still catch flashes of their faces in my waking hours.  But that's not what has been interesting me.  I am writing this to tell you something else.

Princess.  I know about the Prime Element.

Please don't be alarmed.  Long, tedious, and tiring study have all been the source of its revelation to me, and as your faithful student, I will keep it a secret.  Besides, my time is coming all too soon.  But I know what its potential is.

For a moment, she paused, looking at Spike with a saddened expression.

I also know just who it was meant for.

A small tear wavered in place on her eyelid for a second as she continued writing.

I don't feel that it is our only option, however, and I would like t

She stopped, scratching out the sentence.

It's okay.  I know that it's the right thing to do, and I won't tell him just yet.  In fact, that may be what I dread the most.  I just don't want him to be unprepared.

As you know, I'm sure, by the time that it happens, he will be an adult, living his life, and I will be long gone.  I'm happy for him, that he's been chosen to do something so important, and I'm just... I'm proud.  I will always be proud of him, because no matter how he lives the rest of his days without me, I will continue to love him and care for him like I have for the past 80 years of our lives.  He's my son, how else could I feel?

Princess.  I know that we haven't been keeping in touch like we used to when I was young.  And as much as it pains me to say it, I need a favor:  Please, when he's had his adventures, and he has grown to look at life with the knowledge that his days are numbered... give him the letters.

My friends and I learned many things throughout the courses of our lives, frequently writing the documented findings of our friendship, and I know that Spike will understand... I know that he will remember.  I don't want him to suffer by my memory, so I hope that by the time he sees this, he will have long since forgotten me.  But when the time is right, I need for him to be reminded.

Reminded of our time together... of our time as a family, and of the magic of Friendship.

I'm sure that he will know what to do, and I find comfort in that.

Princess, with this final message of Friendship, I wish you a happy life.  This is your faithful student's last letter, and she would just like to say that it was an honor being the pupil of such an extraordinary teacher.  I am truly grateful for our time together, and I know that you will continue to teach and be remembered as you spend your life giving the gift of the magic of friendship and sunlight to this amazing world.  I know that you will help Spike remember, too, and that you and your sister and Cadence will see this land prosper far past his years as well.  So thank you.  My mentor.  My teacher.  My friend.

Good-bye.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

The quill and parchment disappeared in a whoosh of fiery purple magic.  As Twilight looked into the gleaming sky, she blinked a few times, bits and pieces of memories returning to her from years before.

*

*****

Spike awoke on the ground.  It was light outside, and a hazy mist had now settled over the landscape.  He heard a loud swooshing sound nearby, and looked up to find a river, flowing quickly in the form of rapids.  He felt sore... more so than usual.  Getting up, he spotted a few scales on the ground.  They seemed to be leading him in a trail behind him.  When he turned his large, reptilian head, he noticed that the entire terrain leading up to him was destroyed.  There was a crater roughly 30 yards behind him, accompanied by several smashed and broken trees.  The hole in the ground ran all the way to his feet, where he had grinded to a halt.

"I must've fallen asleep..." he said aloud.  He had acquired a slight headache between the time that he had woken up and spotted the cavity in the turf behind him, and started to feel a bit dizzy.  "I don't remember sleeping though."

Just then, he heard a whisper from behind him.  He whipped around, confused.  Tuning his senses to their highest acuity, he made an attempt to locate the source of the indistinct voice.  Actually, it seemed to be voices.  There were multiple sources of the strange murmurs, coming from all different directions.  He turned around furiously, trying to stand his ground against the simultaneous articulations.  They were becoming louder, his heart slowly becoming audible through his ears as the adrenaline hit his brain.

"Who are you!?  Come out!"  The voices continued, the cacophonous uproar increasing in volume as a response to his speech.  "Do you hear me?!  Show yourself!"  The whispers only got louder.  "I demand that you reveal yourself at once!"  Just then, he felt a tug on his arm, hard.  It actually moved him.  58,000 pounds of muscle, bone, organ and scale was just pulled out of its position!

What?!

Suddenly there was another tug, this time over his entire back, forcing him to fall off balance.  He whipped his tail in an attempt to stun his perpetrator, but looking back, he once again saw nothing.  He awaited the next advance, not expecting the sudden push against his left leg.  Using his momentum, he brought the leg back, swinging his right arm, only to hit the air.

"Hey!  Cut it out!" he yelled.  The voices only grew in magnitude.  A swipe was made at his right shoulder, knocking him backwards.  They were getting stronger.  "Stop it!"  Another hit him horizontally across the midsection of his back.  "Stop it!!"  To no avail, the assaults became more rapid and also harder.  "Stop!" push "Stop!!" tug "STOP!!!" slap.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!  RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!"

This was the final straw.  With a ground-breaking crunch, he planted both legs into the dirt beneath, and let loose a cascading wave of bright green flame that engulfed all in its path.  He turned his head, sending the spontaneous beam of fire in all directions.

The flora around him was ravaged in a wildly consuming pyre, trees either cut in half or burned to a crisp.  The barrage of thermal fury continued for what seemed like several minutes as Spike ruthlessly sprayed his surroundings with the torrential blaze.  He directed the beam in a full circle, showering the environment one last time in the licking, green flames of his rage-filled inferno, before finally cutting it short and closing his mouth.

The voices had stopped when he had cast his Fury Beam, but it was only now that he had noticed the eerie silence in its wake.  For a moment, the only sound was that of the bright green embers drifting in the air around him, a soft, almost inaudible crackling sound being emitted from each as they burned whatever they came in contact with.  The flames continued to lick the scorched earth beneath and around him, sending small bits of embers into the air, accompanied by the singed flecks of once-organic matter, now all just turned to ash.

Spike stood in the midst of the destruction, filled with the rage of his entire life... the loneliness biting at his heels, the loss of all those he cared for, his isolation for the majority of his existence.  The fury inside tore him apart, and now he was prepared to unleash it all upon who -- or what -- had now dared to cross him.

"What?!  I don't hear anything from you now!" he shouted, "Too scared to fight me head-on?!  Come out right now, you COWARD!!  Come out!"  There was no response.  He knew that it was still there, he knew.  He would not be treated like this, he would not tolerate anyone thinking they would.  "I said..." he took an even bigger breath then the last time, "COME... OOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!!!!!!!!!"

Summoning his great power once again, he shot forth another Fury Beam, this time scattering it to cover a larger area.  When he did this, something happened:  Something shot back.  His brilliant green blast was met with another, one with just as much, if not greater, power than his own.  The beam was red, with jets of black flowing through it as Spike's dragonflame was pushed back by its new-found opposition.  He concentrated his shot, tightening the muscles in his throat.  When the beam became thin and compressed, the duel turned into a battle of raw power for domination.  The two collided once more, and a magnificent eruption of sparks and plasma filled the space between Spike and whoever else was casting such powerful magic.

Spike had never witnessed such a demonstration of pure power since his prime years.  But that rival had long-since parted, leaving this world in one of the Great Wars some thousands of years ago.  This foe was something new.  It was obvious that whoever it was had been given a true gift of supreme magical aptitude, and possessed the potential of legendary skill.  There were no other dragons he knew of that could control it like this, and certainly no unicorns were capable of the feat.

Well, whoever it is, Spike struggled as he tried to maintain leverage, they've certainly had a lot of practice.  I've never seen this kind of power before!  He looked up, trying to get a better view of his opponent, but no luck.  The unstable energy being released from the two clashing, wire-thin columns of magic was too bright, and blocked whatever hope he had of laying eyes on this new competitor.

Suddenly, the red beam got brighter.  He couldn't see it directly, however what he could see was that the light being emitted from his own spell was suddenly overwhelmed and mixed with the glowing crimson of his enemy's.  The connecting point of the two rays was moving towards him, faster and faster it seemed, until he had no choice but to close his side off and dodge the incoming epee of magic, which put a hole directly through one of the mountains behind him.

What kind of creature is this?

"You mean to say that you do not recognize us?" came a new sound of multiple voices speaking at once.  It sounded as if there were several people speaking at once in one, unified presence.

"Who are you?" Spike asked.  "And I want an answer!"

"Oh, Spike,"  One of the tones suddenly sounded familiar... just vaguely.  The lifeless depth of the voice brought a trail of chills up his thickly-scaled spine.  It spoke again, questioning sinisterly.  "You don't even remember your own brother?"

Spike watched in horror as the face of his one and only sibling stepped out from the bushes.  The dragon was huge, almost his size.  His deep, black scales shone with numerous angles of light, his venomous yellow eyes glowing against his thick brow.  He was being followed by a trail of smoke.  This couldn't have been...

"Thorn?  Is that really you?"  Spike asked.  He began to walk forward.

"I don't know... am I?"  Suddenly the voice and visage of the image changed, morphing with a wave of smoke.  For a moment, the six shapes that came out from the shadowy fog weren't recognizable to him, but as they clarified their identities by stepping forth, Spike felt a sudden great sadness.

"No... no..." he lamented as a grey, faded Twilight stepped out from the balmy smoke.

She let out a sigh.  "Spike.  I'm disappointed in you."  She stared at him for a moment longer, her eyes cold and resentful.  "You're nothing now, and even though your power is great, you're just an old, used-up dragon.  You've failed us... you've failed me.  You're not the son I knew.  You're a shadow of something that was once important to me; of something I used to love."  The voice was Twilight's own, but the tone held an utter disregard for him.  Spike felt the rage and sadness burning a hole in his plated chest as he saw her sweet, soft face appear from the fog.

"Twilight?  No!  That's not you!  You're not Twilight!!" he shouted, balling his claws..

"Of course it is.  What are you now, Spike?  You really are nothing.  A big, dumb, nothing.  I'm the Element of Honesty, I should know!" a grey Applejack pitched in.

"Wow, Spike, I didn't think you could get any uglier!  Not to mention gross!"  Fluttershy cackled.  "I mean, look at you!  Have you even SEEN a mirror in the past millennium?"

"Fluttershy... I... you --"  He felt a small tear building in his eye.

"Spike..." Rainbow said with a soft voice, "Who's Spike?  Oh yeah, you mean the little sidekick puppy-dog that would always follow Twilight around?"  She lay on her back in one patch of fog.  "Bah, who needs him."  She didn't even take an effort to so much as look at him.

Pinkie said nothing.  With her head to the side, she looked sassily upwards away from him.  Rarity was nearby, paying no attention to the large dragon and trying desperately to find a gemstone amongst the charred ground.  "Must be something in this filthy patch of ash," she muttered.

Twilight spoke up again.  "I thought I raised you right, Spike.  I left everything to you, and look where it got you."  She gave him one last look of disgust.  "Pathetic."

"But --" he started, a small tear beginning to make its way from his eye.

He felt another emotion suddenly: Anger.  He felt a boiling hatred for whomever was doing this to him, and he would not tolerate this treatment any longer.

"What do you... WANT WITH ME!!!  ANSWER ME!!!  Answer me or so help me I'll cook you like a --"

"So the prophecies are true... " A sudden wave of fear overcame him as he heard another vocal set.  It was the voice of someone new... a tone he hadn't heard before.  Terrifyingly deep, it shook the ground every time a sound came out.  "Finally, the Prime One.  After forty millennia of banishment to the coldest recesses of this world... I have returned... as the prophets foretold."  It spoke with the utmost malice, as if its very voice aimed to cause Spike long and agonizing suffering.  "I must say that I was expecting a much greater warrior, although I have learned once never to underestimate your enemies by their size or ability."  The disharmonized mane six suddenly evaporated, the smoky fog being whisked back into the scorched vegetation and misty haze.  Finally, Spike's nerves kicked in once again, and he spoke up.

"Who are you, and what do you want?  Show yourself!!  Show yourself, so I can roast you where you stand!!" he screamed, clenching his fists.  The inferno sparked in his stomach once again.  It felt as if the blood in his veins would explode into flame.  He was ready to fight against anything.

Or so he thought.

The trees before him suddenly collapsed, the burnt wood snapping loudly as it was crushed.  The brilliant green flames licking the turf were extinguished as it stepped forth.  The very ground beneath it quaked and split.  Spike lost his balance, and fell over.  He looked up, his eyes widening in terror, the flame in his willpower to fight now nearly extinguished.

The sight before him... was indescribable.

"Hello, Spike," it said.  "I have waited a very, very long time to meet you..."

A New Foe

As the enormous mass of dark shapelessness emerged, Spike found himself crawling backwards as fast as he could.  Standing up hastily, he regained what little shred of composure he had left and unfurled his large green wings.  The black smoke cast a shadow over him, bringing with it a freezing cold that drew ice from the cracks in the ground.  The flames all around them were extinguished; turned into solid blocks of ice.  Spike stared in horror as the dark form reached a point of stillness, small protrusions beginning to appear along its outer edges.  They quickly turned into sharp, metallic spines.

"What... what are you..." Spike murmered.

The surface of the figure began to morph, the wisps of smoke around it becoming thick and condensed like massive ropes, overlapping and moving inwards to form a distinct shape.  The being seemed to almost be wrapping around itself, twisting and turning to produce the final mold of its image.

"I... am Black Shadow..."  The creature continued to grow.

"Harvenger of Darkness..."  Its shoulders were broad and grew covered in shiny, razor-sharp protrusions that continued down its back.

"Bringer of Death..."  The head emerged as the cloud of dark essence washed over its back and stemmed up through the space between its still-forming arms.

"The very evil that haunts your worst nightmares..."  It materialized like roots folding and smokily cascading over one another.

"Carrier of famine and pestilence..."  Blacker and blacker the creature seemed to grow.

"Messenger of Evil..."  Dark, muddy liquid seeped through the open space at the tip of the torso where its head was forming.

"And the end of you, and everything you have ever known and loved."

Through the terror, Spike saw this as an opportunity -- possibly his last.  He beat his wings as hard as he could downward, suddenly skyrocketing upwards.  His muscles were old and weak compared to what they used to be, but they were still strong enough to exert enough force to blow a house away.  Right now he used this to the best of his ability.

The creature, despite its head still forming, reached up to him as he took off.  He aimed a fiery ball of powerful magic at the monster's chest, hoping to cripple it with a fatal blast to the heart.  However, when it made contact with the beast's pectoral shrine, it simply dispersed around the black, shining surface of the various features and perforations still forming.

He let loose another and another.  As one last contingency, he shot a Time Blast forth.  This particularly tricky -- not to mention extremely dangerous -- spell was designed to slow time in a controlled, specific area.  As it hit, the creature was stopped almost instantly; frozen in place.  Suddenly, the mass inside of the prison stirred and cracked the new realm of time.

It's obviously more powerful than I thought!  I'd better take this somewhere higher, where I'll at least have the advantage...  He now watched the creature disappearing below him as he rocketed into the sky.

I've got to tell Celestia about this immediately!  Wings flapping as hard as they could, he brought himself level to the clouds, evening out his pace so as not to exert himself too quickly.  The distance is roughly 30 miles, he calculated, I should be able to make it to the castle in ti-- "URGH!!"  Suddenly, a massive chunk of scale and flesh was knocked off of him as black spines were shot through the air.  The beast was back.

From below, he saw the colossal monster gaining altitude.  It was certainly going faster than he was, and now its spines flew through the air at incredible speeds.  Gah!  I can't take another hit like that! he told himself.  It was not long after, however, that a small group of them pierced several holes straight through the fabric of his wings.  He beat them harder and harder, flying high into the Equestrian atmosphere.  However, it hardly made up for the rapid increase of height his nemesis was building, and the new holes certainly weren't aiding in his escape.

Spike was struggling to gain any altitude, his elderly body refusing to cooperate with the sudden arduous labor, albeit the fact that something far more powerful was on its way up, all the while shooting giant black barbs at him with its ascent.

Come on, Spike, think, THINK!!  He ruled out every possible scenario in his mind, desperate to work out some sort of an escape plan.  The light bulb flickered on as an idea came to mind.  He didn't like it.  In fact, he hated it... but it would just have to work; it was his only option.

*****

Looking down upon the mountains -- his home -- he had made a mental land map of the surrounding area.  The Draconequis Mane was coming up on his left, which meant he was near Halfmoon Valley some one or two miles ahead.  Turn...right! he thought, banking steeply to the side.  Just then, one of the spines whizzed past his head, causing an involuntary jolt.  "OH, COME ON!!" he yelled.

The wind was extremely loud at this point, causing Spike's hearing to be of no longer use to him.  There was the frequent close call with one of the hundreds of barbs that were now being shot at him as his enemy closed distance, but that was about it, as far as the slits in the side of his head could pick up.

That's right, he thought, just go ahead and follow me, I'll lead you there.  Yeah, I'll lead you there, alright... straight to Tartarus, where you belong!  He was nearing his destination.  I just hope this works...

He spotted his target location, tucking in his wings and any other appendages that could shorten the flow of air around him or cause him to drag.  With his new torpedo-like shape, he dove headfirst from the sky, compressing his neck as much as he could to increase velocity.  The monstrosity that was once creeping up from below him was now following suit as the two hurtled downwards toward the mountains in a race that would define life or death for either one.

Spike hit the mountain crevice first.  In a swift upward pullout, he steadied himself to begin the tight maneuvering between the mountains and cliff faces.  Should he run into any of them, he would not be able to warn the Princesses of this impending and the very real evil that now pursued him.  He would fail her... he would fail them all.  I'm afraid I cannot allow that to happen,. he thought to himself.  I won't!

He kept his wings close, angling and dodging, spiraling and spinning, all resulting in the beast growing ever closer as it smashed through the rock ledges that Spike had to avoid.  He whipped around the last bend in the rocky maze, beating his wings as he rounded the tight corner.  Hardly a second later, he heard the ear-popping explosion of rock and stone as the creature trailing behind him broke straight through the edge of the mountain cliff.  He looked back.  The impact didn't even slow it down.

Come on... he thought.  He turned around to face it for an instant.  "COME OOOONNNN!!!!" he screamed.

It seemed to taunt it.  He faced forward again, trying his best to pick up some speed.  He forced his body in the shape of a bullet, tightly pressing all of his appendages save for his wings to form a compact tear drop.  The monster continued to catch up.  Ahead of him was the destination:  His cave.  He filled his belly with a combustible gas, preparing to fire just in front of himself to provide a cloak from being seen, and dodge the entrance, whereas the abomination that was barely 20 hooves behind him would destroy the support of the entire mountain and be crushed under it.

At least that was the plan.

If I want to live, the creature shot of a burst of blackened crimson magic that exploded with titanic force against the mountain side, I'm going to have to time this just right...  The mouth of the cave approached rapidly, his enemy about to swallow him whole.  It had gained proximity to him.  He tilted his head slightly, glancing back for an instant.

Time seemed to slow down as the massive black goliath closed in on him, opening its extensive, razor-filled jaws to devour him.  He turned forward, the world around him seeming to fade from the outer edges and center around his focal point.  With a flick of his tongue, he ignited the ball of magical energy in his stomach, flexing his stomach and forcing the orb with astounding speed up his throat and out of his mouth.  He caught a glimpse of his home through the tunnel opening as it rushed toward him in the slow-motion that was now occupying his perception.  His heartbeat seemed to slow until it felt like a minute had passed in the time that it took to make its double-thump interval.  The mouth of the beast was closing in on him... it was now or never.

The searing sphere of green flame ruptured a few feet in front of him, bursting in an explosion of lime flame that blocked out any view in front of them for some good 100 hooves.  This was his only chance.  With a final beat of his wings, a flap harder and more strained than he had ever exerted in his life, he heard a loud pop, to which he looked and saw that he had broken the sound barrier.  The wave expanded through the jaws of the beast, forcing its mouth to open slightly wider.  As he left the confines of its teeth, he was sent hurtling through the air, passing through his own bright green flames.  The first thing he saw on his arrival out of the flame column was the surface of the mountain, which was now maybe a few dozen hooves or so in front of him.

He opened his wings as far as he could, readying his legs and arms for a hard push-off from the rocky exterior.  This was going to hurt, he knew, but it was certainly better than being flattened.  At first, he barely felt the impact, but as the receptors from his ligaments reached his brain with the neural code for "extreme pain and/or damage", he noticed otherwise.

It was a shocking feeling, like jumping into an ice-cold lake after spending hours in a steaming hot-tub.  His muscles contracted as he leapt off of the face of the mountain, giving him a full-headed response to his recklessness.  Time suddenly caught up in his mind; below him, the creature smashed through the heart of the cave, removing the support of the whole mountain.  The rocky landscape shifted slightly as his former home was completely obliterated in the head-on collision.  The mountain crumbled on top of his foe, sending huge slabs of rock splitting and scattering across the disfigured section of terrain.  The resulting noise was deafening.  The area became unrecognizable through the large eruption of plumes and dust from the tundral collapse, making it difficult to tell if Spike's plan was successful.

He flew upwards, trying to get a view on the destruction.  His home was now a ruin, and there was nothing he do... this was the one place he had felt refuge in for the past one and a half millennia.  It was all but utterly crushed; gone.  All of the pictures, the memories, the old books of Twilight's were lost in a pile of rubble... but the plan had worked.  There was no movement as far as he could tell, meaning that he was safe to begin his journey to warn the Princesses.  A small voice inside of him shouted an eerie warning that the creature may not have died; but he wasn't going to wait around to find out.

"I have to tell the Princesses... must... warn the Princesses... must... get to..." he stuttered as he flapped awkwardly.  Suddenly, his breathing was very heavy, every movement becoming ridiculously tiresome as he struggled to remain airborne.  He tucked his arms and legs in, feeling his muscles and joints agonizingly protest as he did so.  He had a long way to go.

Despite his sudden exhaustion, alerting the regal sisters of the impending doom was his number one priority.  And so, with all of his remaining strength, he cupped the air with his torn and battered wings, flying west-bound to the city of Canterlot.

Regret/The Second Memory

Spike's wings were heavy with the wounds he had sustained. Each thunderous clap of air brought a sharp stabbing pain coursing through the massive chunk torn out of his side. It had finally stopped bleeding about an hour prior, much to his relief.

As he flew, Spike allowed his thoughts to wander, mentally pacing back and forth as his mind simmered. What reasonable explanation could there be of what just happened? First, he had had an incredible, otherworldly experience in what could only be described as a dream, where he saw the ponies that he hadn't seen in countless millennia. The very next day, he runs into this new supervillain nemesis that claims to have been imprisoned for the past two and a half million years. Why him? Why Spike? It could have gone after anyone else, and yet it chose him, even calling him the "Prime One", whatever that meant. What's a Prime One? he pondered, Why did that thing speak like it knew me?  And what of this 'prophecy'?  Could that have something to do with all of this?

So many questions raced through Spike's head as he tried to focus his vision to the primary goal at hand. His eyesight was becoming increasingly blurry over the time that he soared through the crisp, early-Summer air. This was the longest he had flown in a very long time.

As his thought traced over the previous events conspiring in the past few days, he took a quick inventory of his wounds. Some cuts here, bruises there, the chunk missing from his right abdomen, multiple tears through his wings, along with what felt like a pulled muscle in his right arm and left leg. Not the worst he's ever had... but he'd seen better days, that much was certain. This may have been his last trip to Canterlot.

He felt helpless, like a dog that was chased out of its own home and forced to go live with one of the neighbors. He felt misplaced, because nowhere he stayed seemed to last.  Above all else, though... he felt scared.  Why couldn't he just be left alone? Why couldn't he live in peace and die of old age like he wished? Just then, midway through a stroke of his powerful wings, he felt a raindrop touch his forehead. It was rather large, and considering the speed he and it were both going, it hit pretty hard. Another one made brief contact with his snout. Then another, on his left wing. For the first time in a little while, he looked up.

Storm clouds.

Wonderful, he thought, just what I need!  Can it get any better? A sudden splash of water hit him as a collection of the drifting raindrops were met with the thick bulk and scaly hide of the old dragon. He winced as a group of them made their way into the seeping wound in his side. They were cold, causing him to contract lightly.

"Thanks." he said, looking skyward for a moment with a menacing scowl.

He saw a sudden bolt of lightning emerge from the clouds, followed shortly by a crack of thunder. The rain started pouring onto him, delivering each droplet's gift of moisture into his wounds and over his scales. He flew onwards into the storm, a look of complete and utter loathing on his face.

There was a time, once, where Spike had been in almost this exact same position; hopeless, struggling to find a claw-grip in life, and alone in the rain. With the storm clouds above, he very quickly became soaked in the shower of water falling upon him. As if the injuries weren't bad enough, now he was being drenched in a torrential downpour.

He was reminded of this situation when a horde of memories came flooding back to him, causing a slight bit of nostalgia and pain to squeeze his heart in a tight embrace. Before he could stop them, another flashback had already begun.

*****

Even for a rainy day, it was dark. Spike stood at the feet of the tombstones. There were six of them.  A small bouquet of roses was held close to his chest by trembling claws; even their extraordinarily rich and vibrant pedals seemed lurid and dull. The sky was a soulless, colorless grey. A light drizzle added a shimmering coat of glistening white over the marble slabs as a few rays of sunlight perforated the cloud layers and settled upon their smooth, rounded tops. His stomach lay in a knot, his heart heavy. A stream of either tears or rain crept down his face... he couldn't tell which; he didn't care.

He sighed, trying to release some of the pent-up stress being built upon his shoulders. For a second, he thought that the encumbrance would simply be set free, floating with the current of the wind in the exhale. But as he breathed, he felt no lighter. Instead, he felt only the sadness of loss weighing down upon him.

The small drops that hit him were left unnoticed as he stared onto the tombstone in front of him. Below a large star engraved onto the obsidian-black marble, it read:

Twilight Sparkle

Bearer of the Element of Magic

Mother, Sister, Mentor, Faithful Student

and Friend

May the magic of her knowledge and friendship live on within all of us, as death marks only the beginning

of one last great adventure

Spike stared at the polished stone for several minutes, his head bent in reverence. Finally, he knelt down, placing the roses at the base of his mother's marker. The grass was nicely trimmed, which meant that the keepers were at least doing their jobs. This did not comfort him, however. Nothing could. He was alone... truly and utterly... alone.

Spike exited the cemetery, closing the rusting iron gate behind him. It replied with a loud shriek and a clang as it swung shut. Solemnly, he began his routine walk through Ponyville, the muddy ground squishing and splashing with each step. Most of the ponies living here were inside, spending their time with family or friends as the gloomy weather continued without them. The August rains were notorious for their constant and rather unstable downpours.

Other ponies were outside, under their umbrellas, walking about town on the worn cobblestone sidewalks. The occasional carriage would pass by here and there, trailing mixed waves of soot and rainwater behind them as they rolled through the streets. Spike walked along a row of houses, feeling the cooled stones beneath his feet as the rain’s resonant “pitter patter” filled the air. He watched as a young couple rounded a corner from across the intersection where he now stood. The stallion held an umbrella over his partner, a young mare with an amber-hued coat.  Completely oblivious of his surroundings, he was drenched in the guzzling rainwater that ran from the top of the bright blue umbrella. The mare smiled warmly, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, to which he smiled. They continued walking together, reminding Spike of his party of one.

He remembered when he used to hold the umbrella for Twilight. He remembered when they would visit the tombs of their friends together, sometimes with Pinkie, and when they would stay inside and watch the rain pour.

He remembered when he had a family…when he had a home.

His world lay empty now. There was nothing left but the memories…and the sorrow that they left in their wake. He felt as if somepony punched a hole straight through his chest; as if he were hollow. With nothing and no one, where would he go? How would he live with himself knowing that this would keep happening; that his friends would all, one day, leave him?

Spike walked on, feeling the cold grip of reality tighten around his heart. He crossed the street with a light jog, silently praying that a carriage would come while mid-stride. Rounding another turn, he saw it.

The library; a place he had once felt true happiness in, where he was safe... where he was never alone.

He quickened his pace slightly, eying the large tree-home ahead. The gutters dumped a constant flow of rainwater onto the cobblestone, splashing the lower portion of his legs as he walked past. When he got to the door, he wiped his feet on the “welcome” mat that sat at the foot of the rounded wooden door, thinking back to when he and Twilight made it.  Once the mud was wiped off, he opened the door, smelling the thick aroma of ink and parchment as he stepped inside.

The library was still chocked full of texts and books that Twilight used to read to him. This had been his home for the past 133 years of his life, and nothing was going to change that. He would not alter it one single bit. The soft thumping of his footsteps carried throughout the library, bouncing off of the many bookshelves and wooden interior of the tree. There seemed to be a slight breeze coming from upstairs. Spike looked to the open room laying at the top of the stairs to see the main window ajar.

Spike made his way up the staircase, hearing the occasional squeak as he passed one of the more grooved steps. Each one of them reminded him of Twilight; each one held a memory, of some time or another. Clunk! This one had been where he had noticed that he was going to lose his very first tooth. Thump! That one he was particularly fond of. On Twilight's 38th birthday, Spike had been a quarter of the way down the stairs with her birthday cake in-claw. Everypony there (which was actually everypony in town due to Pinkie) had witnessed as Spike's foot came flying out from under him, sending the birthday cake hurtling through the air and straight onto the blindfolded birthday mare. She went from light-purple to vanilla cake frosting in 2 seconds flat. The laughter still rang in Spike's ears as his chest clenched up.

He reached the top of the staircase, walking slowly over to the open window and firmly shutting it. The unrelenting symphony of rain continued as he gloomily receded back down the steps. For some strange reason... he had the sudden urge to write. So, gathering several rolls of parchment, a few quills, ink, and other supplies, he set down at a nearby table, and finally opened the gates to his feelings.

The words poured out in a tidal wave of emotion, flooding the paper in an ocean of fear, anger, resentment, sadness, and dripping tears. The flat parchment was transformed into a sea of infinite depth and magnitude within a matter of minutes as Spike released his regrets upon the open page. The script of his confessions, his deepest secrets and sorrows that he had lugged around on his shoulders all washed onto the thick paper as he moved the quill across its surface.  He started with his earliest memories of loss, and made his way foreword.  The ink required constant replenishment due to the sheer speed that his claw was mustering as he scribbled his heart onto the blank scroll; it was sent airborne in multiple blobs as the quill flew in and out of the inkwell with rapid intervals.

Soon enough, one page of parchment had been filled.  Almost instantaneously, Spike had pulled another onto the table, continuing to write the accounts of his hardships.  A certain energy seemed to flow through his body; it felt as if his feelings had taken control of him as the words continued to drain from the emotional dam he had built up.  64 years of sorrow all just... poured out.  He wrote of his old life; of the friends he had, of the bonds he'd made, and of the events that changed his life.  He made account of Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, of Rainbow Dash and of Pinkie Pie... of Twilight.  He even recalled and described a few of the Cutie Mark Crusaders' misadventurous antics, and how there came a day when they too saw the last of their adventures.

Some of the floodwaters reached his eyes, causing small droplets to form into a stream of tears that leaked from the windows of his aching soul.  Every minute that passed by was a blur to him as he documented his regrets.  Nothing other than writing mattered at that moment.  Nothing else, that is, until he heard a knock on the door.

*

For a moment, he was dazed.  Who could it be?  Spike's mind raced.  What he wouldn't have given to open the door and see none other than Twilight standing there with her saddlebag stuffed with books, a grin spread across her face.  The thought was quickly dismissed as he stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes and cheeks.  He walked slowly, in a deliberate pace, hoping that whoever it was had made a mistake and would simply realize the error and leave him alone.  You are alone, he told himself.

He stood tall, puffing his chest out slightly as he took ahold of himself and forced the tears back.  He opened the door, not expecting the face that appeared in front of him.

"Applebite?"  The young mare before him stood tall as well, her brilliant red mane sleek and shining, no doubt from the rain.  The second and last daughter of Applebloom, Applebite had taken over Sweet Apple Acres some years back as her mother became elderly and aged.  She had three children of her own now, all of which fillies.  Spike couldn't remember her husband's name, only that he attended Applebloom's funeral and said some kind words.  He was a city-colt, coming from the more populated regions of Califoalnia.  Spike remembered once when he had foalsat for the couple while they went to visit some distant relatives in New Mexicolt.  He had passed away nearly six years ago, leaving Applebite to care for the family at Sweet Apple Acres by herself.

"Howdy there, Spike." She tipped the family Stetson that covered a majority of her mane.  She was a fully-grown mare now, and with the classic cowpony hat, western accent and ponytail... she reminded him a lot of AJ.

"Wh-what're you doing here, Applebite?  Is everything alright?" he said, doing his best to mask his sadness.

"Yeah, everythin's fine.  I just figured... well... I thought that I should come 'n' visit ya'll.  It's been a mighty long time since I seen ya' last, an' I jus' wanted to...catch up 'er somethin'."  She peered inside the library, making quick glances to and fro between Spike and the interior of the tree.  "Mind if I come in?" she asked.  The rain drops continued their feeble attempts to infiltrate her Stetson as she awaited an answer, standing in the midst of the sonorous pits and pats.

"Oh, uh, yeah... sure.  Here, come on in."  He stood aside, allowing the mare to pass.  She tilted her hat in response, lightly prancing inside.  Her hooves made audible clopping noises as she passed from the doorway to the wooden floor of the main room.  Closing the door behind her, Spike noticed a trail of water leading to her hooves.

"Oops, sorry." she apologized.  Carefully trotting back to the doormat, she wiped her hooves off, and began looking around the spacious abode.  "Wow," she said, her eyes darting over the many bookshelves and archives of the library, "this is quite the collection ya'll got here."  She picked one of the books off of its shelf, to which a few of its brethren slipped into the empty space with a quiet thump.  "The Midcastle's Guide to Avian Physics... Fifth Volume." she read the cover aloud.

"Uh... yeah.  That was just one of Twiligh--" he paused, the pang of a broken heart returning, "I mean... that's nothing.  It's just a dusty old book.  I've only read it once or twice." he explained blatantly, taking it from her and setting it back in its proper place amongst its siblings.  "So, can I offer you anything to eat or drink, or would you just prefer to kick-off with conversation?"

She smiled lightheartedly.  "I guess I could go for some apple juice."  Spike never understood this about the Apple Family.  It seemed as if, regardless of the amount of time in their lives spent on apples, they just couldn't have enough... almost as if it were a mental disorder that gave its host an insatiable obsession with the popular fruit.

"Coming right up." he replied, feigning a smile back.  He walked into the kitchen and prepared a pitcher of freshly squeezed apple juice.  Once he had filled her cup with the sweet-smelling liquid, he returned to the lobby, where Applebite was leaning comfortably up against one of the walls, a single straw of wheat sticking out of her mouth.  By the look of it, one might assume she was headed off to the annual Rodeo.  "Hope you like it fresh." he said facetiously while handing her the cup.

"Thank ya'." she replied, taking the long, hanging strand of wheat out from between her lips to taste the juice.  "Mmmm," she sighed, raising the glass, "just how I like it."  She took a few more gulps before she stopped.  Her eyes glazed off into space for a moment before she spoke.  "Ya' know Spike..." she began.

"What?" he answered.

"I just realized that we haven't seen each other since I was twenty-five years old... tha's about, um... six years I reckon."  Just then it hit him.  Had it really been that long?  It felt like only yesterday that he had been foalsitting her.  He remembered how she used to put him to sleep when she would cuddle up to him on the couch when all the rest of her siblings had gone to bed.  She always was the more loving one out of the bunch.  The last time that they really saw one another was at her husband's funeral.  Maybe that was why she took over the family business, although there were a variety of reasons.  One of them being because she felt like it was her way to contribute; to show how much she cared.  Spike preferred that alternative rather than thinking that she worked herself to block the memories; that by keeping busy she would forget.

"Wow.  Yeah, it's been a pretty long time, huh?"

"Not for you, I'm sure." she answered.  Spike was taken by surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, bein' a dragon an' all, ya'll gonna live for a lot longer than anypony else, 'cept for the Princesses o' course.  But my point is:  What's six years to a dragon tha's gonna live for tens 'a thousands of 'em?"  She made an exceptional point, although Spike couldn't help but to feel a little taken back.  She was right.  What is six years compared to the millennia he had yet to live?

"Yeah..." he agreed quietly, "I guess you could say that."

"You know, it must be hard.  Livin' on your own like this, with nopony 'round." She took a second to gaze around the room.  "Seems awful lonely, if you ask me."  The comment was blunt, yet it pierced Spike's heart as if it were the sharpest blade in the world.  It left him speechless, partly for fear that he would cry if he spoke, so instead he merely nodded.

"Somethin' tells me that you're not exactly the happiest dragon that ever lived." she said.  She was in no way naive of the truth... after all, her family carried the virtue of honesty like an heirloom.

Spike moved his mouth to speak, yet not a single sound escaped.  There was no way he could find to explain.  Where would he start?  How could he possibly give her an understandable reason for his sadness?  "I'm really fine," he lied.  "I just haven't had a visitor in a little while."  She finished the glass of apple juice.  He gestured to give it to him.  Walking back into the kitchen with the two cups, he set them into the sink, smelling the faint scent of dish detergent.  When he came out, he looked around for a second, finally spotting her over at the table overflowing with parchment.  He quickly paced over, although he had no idea what to say when he got there.  Applebite examined the pages curiously.

"You wrote all this?" she asked.  He muttered a small "yeah" in response.

She took this as an all-clear, and began stacking the cluttered papers into an organized column.  He went to protest, but found it harder than not to make the effort.  Once they were all compiled into an orderly fashion, Applebite hesitantly pointed a hoof to the starting line of the first page, looking to Spike.  He muttered a "yeah", and she began reading.

It seemed like an eternity until she finally reached the point of the last page where the ink cut off.  She began setting the rolls of parchment into a neat, organized stack.  He was standing behind her, awaiting some kind of a response.  However, she didn't move for what might have been a full couple of minutes, or hours (he didn't really know), sitting upright and facing forward.  There was no sign of movement from either of them for a time.

Just then, she turned around in the seat to face him, her Stetson casting a dark shadow on her face.  She reached up and removed the hat, her face becoming illuminated.  She had a thick stream of tears running down her face, the fur damp around her eyes.  She stood from the chair, looking down for a moment as she gently pushed it back in.  Then, she looked up at him.  He was only about 6 inches taller than her, but she still had to give her pupils the extra push upward.  She sighed, attempting to wipe a few of the tears, but to no avail.

She walked towards him slowly, stopping a few inches short.  Then, in a steady motion, she stood up on her back legs, and wrapped her hooves around him, bringing him into a tight hug.  "Spike..." she started, "I... I just..."  She gave up, and squeezed tighter, sobbing into his chest.  He returned the embrace, doing his best not to cry.  He failed.

*

For the next few months or so, Spike decided that it would be better if he helped out Applebite with work on the farm.  After their little water-works display, they made an effort to visit one another more often.

"No!" she had insisted one evening.

"Yes!" Spike shouted back, "I'm going to assist you whether you like it or not!"  She was just as stubborn as Applejack was.  He smiled as a small trickle of memories entered his mind as he recalled the one time he had tried to help AJ out.  He'd gotten better at farm work... or so he thought.

"No, Spike!  I'm not gonna' have you slavin' around the farm for me while I just sit back and watch!  You can forget about it!"  She was trying to make her point with him, but he wasn't going to budge.

"Applebite.  I don't care if you think I'll be 'slaving around'!  This is something I want to do, and by Celestia, I'm gonna' to do it!  You better get used to the idea that I'm helping out!  And you're not going to just be sitting back and watching.  You'll be... um..." he struggled for a word, putting a claw to his chin, "Supervising!  Yes, you'll be supervising!"

"Spike, this is the last time I'm gonna' tell you:  You are not workin' at Sweet Apple Acres!"

*

"Ya' may wanna' start from the right side!" she hollered to him from the rocking chair on the front porch, "It gets tough if the soil gets blown up in your face!"  She was in a reclined position, the family Stetson offering more shade to her bright blue eyes from underneath the wooden patio.  Spike worked with plowing the fields to prepare the apple seeds, a manual task that required constant tedious labor that often left Applebite exhausted for several hours.  The family had expanded the size of the vast plantation many years ago, assimilating more and more land to better fit the needs of the town.  Sweet Apple Acres was a growing business, and thus needed more to work with.

"Sure thing!" he yelled back, gripping the rusting iron sides of the plow and walking to the other side of the dirt field.  After pestering her enough about it, Applebite had finally allowed him to help her with work on the farm.  He could see now why she was so tired at the end of every day.  He looked at the porch to notice that she was gone.  The front door was open.  “Okay…” he deadpanned.  His scales glistened in the unrelenting sunlight.  This day in particular was dry, with one or two rain puddles still left in the whole town.  Most of them had already evaporated in the past two to three days.  The heat was slowly becoming unbearable as he carried the plow across the warm soil.  He reached a point where something caught his eye.  Turning to face the direction leading into further farmland, he nearly dropped the large piece of equipment from his shoulders as the view engulfed him.

Steep hills covered in apple trees rolled into oblivion with the cresting aquamarine horizon.  Some small clouds dotted the sky-scape with bright white shine; they almost seemed to be glowing.  Spike sighed as he beheld the sight for a moment.

“Enjoyin’ the view?”

He jumped.  Applebite was carrying a saddle-mounted tray with a small pitcher of cold apple juice and several small glass cups.  “Jeez, don’t sneak up on me like that!  You want me to die a couple thousand years early?”

She smiled, turning so as to give him access to the beverage.  “Sorry Spike.  I didn’t mean to scare ya’ll like that.  Jus’ wanted to bring ya’ a drink, that’s all.  Figured it’d be good repayment for the kin’ness you’re showin’ me.  Help yourself…hope you like it fresh,” she mimicked, chuckling as she poured some of the contents of the pitcher into one of the cups and offered it up to him.

He took it, almost immediately smelling its tangy sweetness.  His lips were dry, his body parched.  As he took a sip, he felt the cool liquid running down his throat in a satisfying deluge.  He could feel his core temperature lowering as he quickly emptied the glass of any remaining fluid, sighing happily.  “Thank you…I needed that.”  He paused for a moment, looking at his empty glass, then back down at the pitcher, and then at Applebite.  “Well, better get back to work,” he said bluntly while placing the cup on the saddle-mounted platter.  As he turned to walk away, however, she stopped him.

“Actually, Spike…there’s somethin’ I’ve been fixin’ to tell you…” she said, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof.  “An’ I know that it’s better if I do it now.”

“Sure,” he said, “Shoot.”  He folded his arms in apprehension as he waited for the question.  Although nothing could have prepared him for what she said.

“Well, uh…ya’ see…when I came to visit a couple months ago, I did wanna’ catch up ‘n’ everythin’, but there was somethin’ else, too.”  She looked at him with guilty eyes.  “Spike…I’m leavin’ town.”

For a moment, he thought it was a joke, a smile beginning to make its way across his face.  But as he saw the seriousness in her expression, he knew that she was speaking the truth, and it felt as if his heart had stopped.  “What?” was all he could manage to say while trying to hold his composure.  His eyes darted back and forth between spaces before looking at her again.  “But…why?”

“I’m takin’ Juniper, Green an’ Lil’ up to San Franciscolt.  I figure I could find me a good job an’ they could get themselves an education…go off to college, get set for the real world.  I’m sorry to tell you this now.  It’s just that…well, that’s why I went to visit you that one day, because…Spike…I want you to have Sweet Apple Acres.”

This time, the “what?” was much more audible, and much more high-pitched.  In fact, it sounded more like a squeal than a rhetorical question or an objection.

“I know it sounds crazy.  But the way I figure it, you’ve been a friend ’a’ the family’s for a long time.  An’, if ya’ want…ya’ll could just sell it or somethin’.  The land don’t do to well with how few of us there are now, and I think you could take care of it fine, or do with it as you please.  Either way, it’s no use to us now, an’ I want you to have it.  Think of it as a 'thank you' for stickin’ with all of us for so long.”

He blubbered for a second, trying to find words.  He cleared his throat, arranging the argumentative sentence in his head to something relatively logical-sounding.  “Applebite, I am not taking Sweet Apple Acres from your family!  It’s been like a private capital for the Apples since before I was born!  Aren’t there any relatives you can send for?  Anypony?!”  He was getting desperate fast.  Suggesting immediate course of action for others after mere seconds to think about it was usually a last resort, especially when Applebite had probably been thinking about it for…well, a while.

“I’m sorry, Spike.  But I’ve already signed the deed to the land over to ya’, an’ now it’s yours.  I don’t mean to give you no say in the matter, but it’s too late.”  She smiled, and yet her eyes showed that she regretted having to say it.  “Congratulations, Spike, you are now the proud owner of Sweet Apple Acres.”

*****

His wings felt as if they were about to give out.  The wind came in pocketed gusts that often violently swept him backwards when they hit.  He was beginning to wonder whether or not this was all worth it; if it was all just some cruel test to see how long he could be pushed to his limit before he gave up.  Of course it's worth it! he chastised himself, It is my responsibility to convey this message to the Princesses!  Surely they will know what to do!  In his mind he sounded confident, but after each stroke through the ruthless wind, the exhaustion slowly deteriorated just how much he believed it.  He was hardly flying anymore; rather, he seemed to only be gaining fall-speed.

Spike rounded another couple of mountains, a long ridge of them blocking his view from any of their sides.  Come on, he thought, it should be around here somewhere!  Just then, caught a glimpse of it, not noticing at first; but as he craned his long neck in hopes of a better view, he saw exactly what he was looking for:  Canterlot, in all of its majestic glory.  He was beginning to lose his peripheral sight, the castle along with everything else becoming blurrier and blurrier.  Banking right, he began his descent.

The structure stood much higher than he remembered it, and included several additions to the ancient mountainside castle.  He tucked in his legs and arms, propelling himself forward with several momentous wing beats.  His sight darkened still, fading away until only a slim window of perspective remained.  There was no way he would land with this kind of speed, and so he settled for something slightly less... gracious.

Sorry, Celestia... looks like I'm going to have to make a bit of an abrupt entrance...  His eyesight diminished completely as the darkness filled the gap in the center of his vision.  Finally, in a last series of wing strokes, he lost all forms of awareness, and slipped into vast unconsciousness.

Surprise Visit

A small sliver of light bounced off of a reflective, intricately designed, polished silver spoon as it was lifted into the air.  A glowing golden aura surrounded it as it left the table, hovering midair for a moment before it was tapped against a goblet experiencing similar events.  The spoon shook slightly, the long handle wobbling as it reverberated from the impact.  The gemstones embedded in its rolling surface settled into their places once more as the ringing of the collision subsided.  It tapped against the goblet a second time and a third, unable to control the motion, before it and the cup were finally set back onto the smooth wooden table for future use.  The golden aura disappeared, and the spoon was once again able to rest in peace with its fellow utensils.

Above, standing elegantly as she had always done, a gleaming, white alicorn princess awaited the attention of the room's occupants.  To the right sat her younger, cobalt-colored sister, staring up at Celestia's tall composure with a familiarity that graced her presence in a sort of charm.  To her left sat her other sister -- the youngest of the three -- who beamed up at her.  The smile often reminded her of a perfect summer's day.

The bright, warm light of the sunset shone through the huge paneled glass window past the long table of seated regalty and royalty.  The noise that had echoed off of the walls with cacophonous volume before ceased in an instant as the crowd's focus was drawn spontaneously to the gleaming white alicorn at the head of the great hall, bellowing momentarily before coming to a halt.  Clearing her voice, the princess spoke.

"Good day, my beloved subjects.  I would like to begin by saying how wonderful it is having all of you present at once, and that my sisters and I are very much blessed with your willingness to be here on such short notice."  Luna and Cadence bowed their heads in gratitude.  "I suppose that you are all wondering why we have summoned you here."  Her voice boomed throughout the hall, audible and clear, and yet it remained soft and graceful, almost melodic in a sense.  "And no, the reason was not to stuff you all with food and alcoholic cider, sadly."

The crowd let out a small laugh, which lasted about as quickly as it had come.  Celestia smiled, and then became very stern.  "No, it is not to announce the opening of yet another grand festival, feast, social gathering, or any other form of pleasant thoroughfare either."

The crowd grew deathly silent.  "Something very grim has come to our attention, and I feel that you, our most trusted advisers, consultants, and admirals, must know of it immediately."

In a sort of hushed tone, she beckoned Luna and Cadence forward.  The two alicorns stood, approached one another, and connected their horns at the tip.  What resulted was a glistening and flashing miasma of energy and light, which gradually receded into a concentrated flowing plane of memories.  They flinched for a moment as they accessed the correct one, and all attention was directed on the magical field of neural transmissions as a series of events played out in front of them.

"What you are about to see are the memories of a past far precedent of today.  They are some of the oldest recorded incidents of all ponykind, and hold some of the darkest secrets ever to come upon our world.  We felt that it would be best to reveal what happened all of those years ago, seeing as the most logical course of action is also the most immediate one.  Now, do not be too frightened by what you will see.  Like I have said, these are just memories.  It is what they represent that I daresay you should fear."

The memories began to coordinate with one another, becoming a sequence of events that played out in rapid intervals, however still unrecognizable as individual frames.  They reset, the first image forming slowly.  It was nearly a clear, legible picture, beginning to resemble something bright yellow and red.

It was then that a single, blood-curdling scream was emitted from a seat on the far end of the hall, nearest the window.

*****

It all happened so fast.

A symphony of wails and shrieks erupted from the crowd for a split second before a colossal figure came crashing through the giant glass window with tremendous force, shattering the huge panels with a sound loud enough to blast several eardrums within the room.  It smashed through concrete pillars like butter and leveled columns and archways that lined the lower walls, crushing everything in its wake and sending the dining hall in a fit of panic and chaos.  The enormous purple object flung the table into thousands of splintered wood chunks that shattered on impact as they dispersed throughout the hall.

The princesses stood in confusion as the massive ball rolled, flipped, twisted, and finally grinded to a halt a few meters in front of the grand podium.  They continued to gaze upon it with a train-wreck fascination.  When the dust cleared, all three of their hearts stopped as the identity of the face in front of them became visible.

"Is that --" Luna started.

"I... I believe so," said Celestia after a moment of disbelief, her mouth still hanging slightly ajar.  Not once did they blink as the realization settled in, unable to avert their eyes from the purple, winged hunk of scale and meat before them.

Celestia was the first to act.  She jumped down from the podium, hurrying over to Spike.  She leaned in to listen for breath and was caught off guard, not in that he spoke... but rather what he said.

"B-Black... Shadow..." Spike muttered, before all was quiet from him.  Celestia's eyes grew wide, a wave of fear rushing throughout her entire body, starting from the ear he had whispered it into.  It was not something a Princess was supposed to feel, and yet the alicorn felt a sort of quake inside as her strength and wisdom were rattled by the simple instinct to run.  She'd hoped never to have to hear that name again.

"Well, shouldn't we do something?!" proposed a dismayed Cadence.

"What did he say to you?" Luna asked.

"Yes, I suggest we do," Celestia answered, ignoring Luna's question.  It had been some time since its last use, but it was at this moment that the Princess of the Sun called upon her royal canterlot voice.  She almost seemed to address more the room than her subjects.  "IS EVERYPONY ALRIGHT?" she called.  Groans and yeah's filled the hall in a unanimous response as ponies emerged from some of the piles of rubble.  "GOOD.  TAKE ANY WOUNDED TO THE MEDICAL WARD, AND EXPECT A SUMMONS TONIGHT IF YOU ARE NOT CRITICALLY INJURED!  MY SISTERS AND I WILL BE WITH YOU IN A MOMENT!"  Just then, a small platoon of guards burst through a nearby set of doors, spears pointed, swords and shields ready for battle.  A few of them nearly dropped their weapons as they stopped, mouths agape.

The leader of the platoon, obviously the most comprehensive of the group, pushed past the others, running instantly to Celestia's side.  "Princesses!" he spoke, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, quite," Celestia replied, "But for now, we need your help in gathering any wounded.  Those who have suffered any serious injuries are to be taken to the Emergency Ward immediately."

His reply was swift.  "Yes, Princess."  And with that, he motioned for the other guards, who -- gathering their wits -- split up into recovery teams.

Turning back to the two other alicorns, Celestia spoke.  "I'm afraid that the presentation will have to wait, my sisters; it appears we have a visitor."  She looked down onto Spike.  "My visions have been confirmed true, which means that something very disastrous is in store for all of us.  We must dispense with any formalities regarding our original warnings, and make preparations to tell them all, and soon.  Quickly, my sisters!  Bring our guest to the West Wing of the medical facility... or at least some form of medical attention where he can fit inside of the building."

"What about the hall?" Cadence asked as she and Luna flew down to the unconscious dragon.

"I will deal with this until you can return to aid us.  I can handle it.  Now go!" Celestia ordered, giving them a reassuring nod.  The two younger sisters' horns erupted in magic, which soon enveloped the dragon along with themselves, and with that they were gone.

Celestia turned back to the hall once more.

"It must be a Monday."

*****

Spike's mind entered a realm of chaos as his thoughts twisted around him.  Flecks of single snapshot memories whizzed around him, trailing a bright pink essence that dissipated after they'd moved on.  Some memories were older, while others were more recent and long-lived.  Some lasted for short bursts, only appearing momentarily before being whisked back into his subconscious; others seemed to linger and hover forever, more so as the memories grew in relativity to the present.

He heard small traces of voices or other noises as sounds reverberated through the spacious ether from each manifesting memory.  This did not last long, however, as every one of them suddenly vanished and left smoky traces of pink wisps.

"Hello Spike."

He whipped around to see nopony, hardly noticing his surroundings until the magenta smoke cleared.

A tree stood nearby, only it seemed much larger than he was.  He looked down to see a pair of young, delicate purple claws.  He was standing on a hilltop, the sun bathing him in radiant warmth.  The grass under his feet was soft and dream-like.  In the distance was a peaceful-looking Ponyville.  Spike suddenly heard the voice again, turning around at a breakneck speed.

Twilight stood maybe six hooves away, practically within arm's reach.

Spike couldn't move.  His appendages contracted like iron, leaving him frozen in a position of astonishment.  She smiled.

"It's almost time, Spike."  The sun dropped to the horizon in a matter of seconds behind Twilight, making her impossible to see other than a basic silhouette.

"Twilight, no!" he hollered.

"It's almost time, Spike."  A rumbling noise began to emanate from all directions.  The ground shook as huge slabs of rock crumbled into an abyss filled with lava that flowed several miles down.  Cracks formed all along the terrain as the entire landscape shifted and churned, giving way to an endless chasm.

Twilight was getting farther and farther away from him as she repeated the words.  "It's almost time."

"NOOOO!!" he cried.

Just as she disappeared in the blazing sunlight, she said something... something he could hardly hear.  She had said it before, the previous night, in the last vision.

"May the Prime guide you."

A gap opened up beneath him as the earth gave way.  Jumping to the side, he made for the tree, which still stood tall at the top of the hill.  It was simply amazing how its vibrant shades of green remained despite the destruction and chaos of the world around it.  While fires broke out and tore apart everything else, the tree was still there.

Spike latched onto its trunk, feeling tears welling up in his eyes.  He looked up, through the canopy and the branches, and into the darkening sky.

"DO YOU ENJOY THIS?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.  "DO YOU PRIDE YOURSELF AT MY TORTURE!?  DO YOU REVEL IN MY EXPENSE?!"

Nopony answered.

Nopony ever did.

He hugged the tree tighter still, feeling its rough bark against his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said.  The words were barely audible through the raging inferno surrounding the world.  "I'm sorry I couldn't be there... I'm sorry I couldn't save you... I'm sorry it was you instead of me.  And I would've taken your place if I could... I... I just want to see you again," he lamented.  "I want to be with you.  I want to have one last great adventure.  I just want it all to be over."

For a moment, there was silence.

Everything suddenly exploded into reverberating, deafening sound.  The whole world shook with the immense noise.

"He's waking up," a voice said.

Then everything went dark.

*****

Celestia walked quickly down the multitude of twisting and turning corridors.  Each hallway had about a hundred or so doors.  The many long years in the castle had taught her to decipher each one from the other.  This deep into the winding bowels of the castle, it was crucial to know which room housed a laboratory or a council meeting.

One time, she had even caught herself heading for a reunion with one of the Commanders' parents, when she had barged uninvited into the honeymoon suite of a young unicorn couple.

She rounded another corner, heading down yet another series of doors and passages.  Finally, she knocked on one of the doors, hearing the loud clang of metal.  Opening it rather abruptly, she walked through a small chamber before being met with the smell of... well, she couldn't quite put her hoof on it.  She quickened her pace, somewhat worried about the scent.

Celestia continued down the route to the medical ward.  The smell was getting stronger.  Just then, she realized that it wasn't natural at all.  Rather, as the air became thickly saturated with magical energy, she knew that it was a powerful spell that was emitting the scent.  It was almost like a coppery something or another, mixed with kerosene and strong perfume.

Several ponies walked past her, some wheeling other ill ponies in wheelchairs, or ones with near-fatal wounds on stretchers.

The princess approached the head desk, asking for the TPP (Top Priority Patient).  The mare at the front motioned for one of the others behind the counter.

"Show her Majesty to Room 341, stat," she told the middle-aged stallion who appeared.  He nodded in response, also bowing in the Princess' presence.

"Please follow me, your Highness."

He lead her down a multitude of pathways and door-filled corridors.  Just another wonderful area of the castle to familiarize herself with.

They soon arrived at a door with the numbers 341 in the center.  From the small opening under it, she saw bright flashes of light.  The stallion looked around, making sure nopony saw them, before opening the door.  He gestured her inside, and closed the door behind her once she had entered.

Celestia was blinded by the flashes of electric magical energy that surged around a ball surrounding the bed in the center of the room.  Several unicorns stood in a circle around it, their horns aglow as the magic amplified into even brighter electrical currents.  Nearest the center were the two other princesses.

Celestia approached cautiously, afraid to disrupt the spell.  Luna's eyes opened, noticing her sister as the powerful bolts of multicolored lightning swerved into the orb's epicenter.  A ray of plasma suddenly escaped from the sphere.  As if a reflex, Celestia caught the stray beam in front of her, stopping it momentarily before one of the unicorns took ahold of it and set it back into place.

The ball seemed to be growing unstable.

"Hey, Spirit!" yelled one of the unicorns near Cadence, "The spell is dividing!  Keep it up on your end!"  His voice seemed to fade before reaching the bright-blue unicorn on the opposite end of the circle.  His ears perked up, a look of understanding reaching him as he clenched his eyes shut in focus.  His horn began to glow more intensely.

A ring of energy split the floor open as one of the unicorns near Luna lost control.

"Dear sister, a little help here!" yelled Cadence, looking towards the eldest alicorn.

"No!" screamed Luna, "We have this under control!  Celestia, don't you move one hoof!"

The ball then turned a deep scarlet, like a pool of blood.  From the middle, a light began to glow, beams of it perforating the magical shell as the crimson began to turn into a hot-pink -- the telltale signs of an explosion.

"Shut it down!" ordered Celestia.

"No!!" Luna retorted loudly.

"Luna!  Now is not the time to be stubborn!  Release it!"

The cobalt alicorn struggled for a second longer as the orb grew more and more unstable, cascading light beginning to swirl around it.

"Urgh!  FINE!  Everypony, on the count of three!"  The other unicorns looked up, astonished at Luna's sudden willingness to comply.  "ONE..." the orb grew brighter.  "TWO..." a gust of magic knocked over several objects in the room as the sphere reached its peak.  "THREE!!" all of the horns in the room went out, their owners diving onto the ground.

Celestia ducked as pieces of magical shrapnel were sent flying everywhere.

When she looked up, it appeared as if the room's air had caught fire.  There were scorch marks covering the walls.  Several electrical wires hung limp from the ceiling, sparks flickering from their severed ends.

The ponies on the ground rose, expecting to see the object in the bed utterly incinerated.  While the mattress was completely shredded and fried, the figure on it remained intact.

The baby dragon let out a small sigh.

"Celestia!" Cadence greeted her.  "Something happened when we transported him!  I don't know why he's this... like this now, but something happened.  After we transported him, he was..."

Luna suddenly interrupted, picking herself off of the floor.  "After we transported him, he started getting... much smaller.  Dear sister, why is this happening to him?  Shouldn't his body be more prepared for travel than this?"

Celestia contemplated.  "I trust both of you synchronized the chronic frame when you transported him, so the only reason this could be happening would be a result of another acting component, most likely the Prime's presence beginning to dawn.  Remember sisters, this is no longer a mere vision of mine, but a truth.  We would do well to heed the warnings, and accept the changes he may be undergoing."

There was a soft murmur from the trashed mattress.

"... He's waking up."

*****

Nopony knew what to make of the situation.  Luna pondered, pacing across the floor back and forth.  Meanwhile, Cadence was talking up a storm, asking various questions concerning the current scenario.

They had been rushed out of the room as soon as the procedure was over.  The last they'd seen of Spike was hours ago.  The hospital ponies had moved him to a new room, and were practically suffocating him with the amount of surgeons and doctors that entered and exited the room regularly.

Meanwhile, the three princesses sat -- or stood in Luna's case -- in the waiting room, with all of the other ponies.  It wasn't the most discrete option, but it was certainly the easiest and least disasterous... or so they'd thought.  Luna did not take any notice of the ponies around her as she paced the floor of the waiting room.  She almost seemed vigorous about it, like her soul purpose in life was now to somehow form a noticeable groove in the floor after walking over the same spot so many times.

"But how did he survive the procedure even when it went hay-wire? And why would a simple transportation spell reduce his size so drastically?" Cadence asked.

"I don't know, sister," Celestia answered for the ump-teenth time.  "Only time will tell whether the recovery spell even worked or not."

"But it did... didn't it?" Cadence replied.

"We will have to wait to see, Cadence!  Calm down, I'm sure everything is going to be alright.  We just have to have faith."

"Faith?" Luna spoke up finally.  "Faith, Celestia, really?  Do you think a little bit of faith is going to save us?  Your visions were right!  The entirety of Equestria is about to fall into an abyss of chaos, destruction, and death, and you want to rest it all on faith?!"  She approached her elder sister.  "What we need is to go in there and see if he's alright.  Our magic is greater than any and all of these petty, dusty old unicorns.  We could heal him fully!"

Celestia seemed disgruntled at her statement.  That is, until "disgruntled" turned into "furious".

"Oh?  Is that so, Luna?"  She stood up.  "I'll have you know that, should any single one of these ponies be granted half of the time as we have been, they would have surpassed both of our skills a hundred-fold!  We are talking about our most trusted sorcerers!  They are not to be underestimated!"

Luna paused, a bit taken aback by her sister.  "Fine."

Just then, they heard a low rumbling sound before a very loud crash was emitted from farther down the hospital corridors.  The sisters looked at one another wide-eyed.  As in silent agreement, they raced down the hallway.

They rounded a corner to see a red-hot metal door flying off its hinges and into the wall, followed shortly by a cloud of smoke and ash filling the section of the hall around it.  An earth pony came stumbling out, black scorch marks covering his entire body.  He was charcoal everywhere except for his eyes, where visible goggle marks silhouetted his face.  Shreds of his old lab coat hung limply off of his side.

"He's... alright..." the scientist wheezed.  He fell face-first into the rubberized floor, landing with a dull thud.

The princesses rushed inside of the room, making sure not to step on the knocked-out stallion on the floor.  The first thing they saw were the multitude of ponies that were recovering from the wall, most of which were unicorns.  When they looked straight forward, they saw a small baby dragon on a near-molten metal table.  He was surrounded with limply-hanging machinery that were either dispersed or destroyed in the small explosion.

There were embers drifting through the air as the three alicorns separated throughout the room.  Luna went to the machinery behind a glass window in the back of the room, while Cadence helped some of the ponies up from the floor.  Celestia, however, fixed her gaze on the table -- which this time was surprisingly intact.

Spike lay on the top of the red-hot, steaming plates of metal that made up the table in the middle of the room.

After preparing a bed, the hospital staff carried Spike into a new room.  Soon enough, Spike was snoring softly under the sheets.  New medical machines surrounded him, although they were not as asphyxiant as before.  The princesses eagerly awaited some kind of an explanation from the Head Sorcerer of Canterlot, who now stood perplexed before them.  Even he was having trouble with the complexity of the situation.

"And you say that any attempt at a spell on him is virtually impossible?" he questioned.

"Yes," Luna answered, "but that's not the most interesting detail."

"Spike's physical appearance has been drastically altered, and we fear that it may be only causing him harm by continuing to conduct spellcraft operations on him.  In fact, I might dare say that we are only putting the rest of the entire hospital at risk," Celestia explained.

"Yes, yes.  I see.  Have you considered taking him to an isolated area?" Xenith Light asked.

Celestia recalled the words he'd spoken.  Black... Shadow...  The words echoed throughout her head, bringing an image of... she didn't want to think about it.

"Yes, I assure you that we have considered that as a viable option.  However..." she paused, a look of great concern building in her countenance, "We have reason to trust that the safest place for him is here, within our city's boundaries."

"Sire.  I understand your desire for such an old friend of Canterlot's to be kept here, if not out of curtiousy, but it simply may be too dangerous."

"Xenith, I know what the risks of this decision are, and I'm willing to take them all on account of something much greater than the simplicity of risks regarding possible accidents due to him being here."  Celestia held her ground.  Her chest rose, her neck craning to emphasize.  Xenith seemed hesitant to say the least.  After a moment, he conceded.

"Very well, Princess.  If there should be anything you need from me, do not spare a second to ask."

Celestia nodded.  Before Xenith could turn around however, she caught him with a firm retort.  "I should expect the same from you, Xenith.  As Head Sorceror, it is your duty to relay any and all information that you find important directly to me, and me alone, if and when it should appear.  If something -- anything -- should happen to Spike, and I am not immediately informed, I will hold you personally accountable for whatever damage is done.  Do I make myself clear?"

Xenith seemed to struggle for a moment.  There were many times in his work when he could not simply stop what he was doing to find the Princess and tell her about it.  Some things needed additional time when they deliver new data and findings.  Celestia made few exceptions to her rules, however, and her rules were absolute.  One does not simply disobey the Princess of the Sun, after all.

"A-hem!  Do I make myself clear, Head Sorceror?"  Her new tone relieved him of any true options.

"Yes my liege.  Perfectly, crystalline-clear."

She was content with this answer, letting a small grin show across her muzzle.  "Good.  Then we should not have any problems.  As you were."  She remained in her alighted posture as he walked away.

As Xenith finally disappeared around the corner of the hospital wing, Celestia immediately turned around, and practically began a slow sprint back to her quarters.  It would be there that, after some well-placed reading and true realization of what could happen as a result of his return, she... well, to put it lightly...

... flipped her shit.

*****