The Secret of Pony Island

by Sgt. Alex

Chapters

Part I: The Three Trials
Chapter II: The Piranha Cat
Chapter III: Fish and Showmares
Chapter I: The Idol of the Many Hooves

Part I: The Three Trials

THE SECRET OF PONY ISLAND™

SOMEWHERE DEEP IN THE CARIBBEAN

Cue: Title Music

ALEXARTS PROUDLY PRESENTS

THE SECRET OF PONY ISLAND™

PART I: THE THREE TRIALS

Derpy Hooves shivered as the warm and humid air of the Caribbean blew over the hilltop. She let out a sigh, bringing the mug of hot chocolate to her lips and taking a sip. Her mother had always told her that it wasn’t the heat but the humidity that killed you but that was kind of a moot point when you were a pirate, you were more likely to get shot or stabbed than you were of catching a cold.

It’s not like she’d asked for this job as a lookout anyway, it had been the only one the pirates had been willing to give her after her last experience. That was their fault too, giving a job as a gunner to someone with troubled eyesight, how she had managed to hit her OWN ship with a broadside was a mystery that still eluded her former employer, Captain Whooves.

Still, Derpy was determined to make the best of it. She’d become the best lookout this town had ever known, sitting alone on the hill overlooking Trot Bay she’d spot any ship coming or out. Nevermind that all crews had been grounded for months ever since the Dread Ghost Pirate LeSombra had taken over the seas and that anyone who dared sail ANYWHERE quickly found himself burnt by the fires of hell that threatened to consume the world of the living. Yes, she’d spot them and let the others know about their grisly and predictable fates.

Even now she had both eyes focused on the bay; no ships, pirates or ghosts would slip past her guard, no sir. She was so concentrated on her duties that when a voice piped in behind her with a polite: “Hi, my name is Spike and I want to be a pirate!” She almost jumped ten feet in the air while shrieking like a mad-pony.

“By Celestia’s beard, kid, don’t startle me like that!” She yelled indignantly, trying to centre her sight on the one who had so unkindly surprised her.

“I’m over here.” Spike waved one of his claws in the air, trying to get the blonde-maned Pegasus’ attention. The strange lookout was still facing the Bay.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Still hovering in the air, Derpy allowed herself to float down back to ground level, landing with a soft thud. “Now where did you go?”

The voice interrupted her thoughts. “Down here.”

Derpy did as instructed, craning her neck downwards and ended up staring a short, purple-and-green dragon that was, maybe, one head shorter than her. It was wearing a pair of black shorts and a white shirt.

It wasn’t a normal dragon though, it didn’t have wings so that meant he couldn’t be one of those beasts that flew around the islands breathing fire and destruction every time they fancied a meal, plus he wasn’t the appropriate size. He wasn’t a sea dragon either, coming out from under the sea to rain sorrow and death, crushing entire ships under their mighty jaws just to score some new treasure for their hoards. He wasn’t even one of the fabled and mythical magic dragons, the kind that only shows up when certain mixtures of (illegal) herbs have been smoked and provide endless laughter and a constant stream of questionable and usually dangerous ideas. Nope, he wasn’t any of that, he was just a dragon.

The grey Pegasus frowned. “So you want to be a pirate?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Not a firefighter?” She inquired.

“What? No.” Spike shot her a confused look.

“Ah, that makes sense, it’d be odd for a dragon to want to become a firefighter.” Derpy sentenced, her curiosity satisfied for the time being. “Well, if you are serious about becoming a pirate then you should talk to the… THREE PIRATE LORDS!”

The dragon in front of her, he had said his name was Spike, looked to be deep in thought, his right claw propped on his chin and his gaze fixed on the ground. She knew what was going to happen next: he was going to ask about her eyes, they all asked about her eyes, she hated when they asked about her eyes. Right there and then she made herself a promise to buck the next guy who asked about her eyes.

Thus, she was pleasantly surprised when Spike looked up and, instead, wondered: “Thanks, but where can I find the three pirate lords?”

“Oh, that’s easy, you’ll find all three of them in the Scumm Bar, right down those stairs.” She pointed at the stairs, carefully and masterfully carved on the very hill they were standing on, that lead down into town. “It’s the first building you’ll see when you enter the bay.”

“That’s great, and now I go seek my fortune, thanks again!” Spike cheerfully commented as he made ready to leave. “One last thing though.”

“Yes?”

“What’s with your eyes?”

The last thing he saw before passing out was a white mug coming straight at his face, his unconscious body rolled and thumped its way down the hard, rocky steps.

“That’ll teach them.” Derpy smiled to herself, she had nailed the sucker right in the forehead, and turned back to the watching the Bay. Right there, just about to exit the port was a ship, it had gone out while she was busy talking to the dragon. The pegasus felt the anger bubbling in her chest as she looked up at the heavens and let out a mighty roar.

“FU-“

Spike woke up several hours later with a throbbing headache that made him feel like a herd of ponies had stampeded through his skull. His face was swollen and if his brain had been stampeded then his charming good looks had gotten bombed. If this was what living like a pirate was all about, he thought, then he had been sorely mislead.

The young dragon forced his eyes open and was scared when he saw only blackness, his boggled mind raced through a number of equally horrifying possibilities, what if he had been kicked blind, or worse, what if he was dead? Now he’d never become the greatest pirate that ever lived and the position of greatest pirate that ever died was already filled!

Or it could just be that it was still night-time and that those white pinpricks up there weren’t his imagination but stars. Eeyup, that made way more sense. Though it was incredibly strange; it was already dark before the crazy-eyed lookout hit him, logic dictated it should be day by now.

Ignoring the intricacies of space-time, Spike stretched his limbs and began to pick himself up, groaning as his joints popped and his achy muscles complained. It took a few minutes for him to stand up and take stock of his current situation. He still had his clothes on, which was a plus, but his pockets were now devoid of any currency or personal items he might have been carrying.

The drake looked around; he was standing on a wooden platform over the water. He could see the town just down the road and the hill, a small fire roaring on the top, just opposite of it. Even now he could make out the silhouette of the pegasus against the flames, her golden eyes piercing the darkness and staring deep into his soul. Spike trembled in fear and backed away, hiding behind a barrel.

Once he deemed himself safe from the wrath of the all-seeing pony, he continued his survey of the area. The platform itself was rickety and filled with holes and gaps, yet was sturdy enough to sustain the numerous ships tied to it and a number of unmarked buildings. All seemed equally dark and dead.

Only one differentiated itself from the others courtesy of the lights coming out of the windows and open door. He could smell the stench of alcohol and pony sweat drifting out, and the sounds of boisterous yelling, singing and fighting (as evidenced by the broken glasses, bottles and chairs laying all over the place) marked it as a tavern. A sign hung over the door, poorly written and in an even worse state than the building itself, it read: SCUMM BAR.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Spike waddled to the bar pushing the revolving doors to enter. They fell off their hinges and onto the wooden floor with a loud BANG! That was enough to silence all the patrons. The dragon gulped, the bar was filled with denizens of all kinds, sizes and colours: pegasi, earth ponies, unicorns, even the odd zebra and donkey. They all had one thing in common and that was that they were all pirates, most were missing a limb or two, had an eyepatch (and in one case, two), any type of tattoo you could imagine ranging from “I <3 Mom” to anchors, crossed swords and skulls. They all had tough faces, scars and mean looks. And more importantly, they were armed. And it just so happened that all of these nice folks were staring at him.

Our hero took a step back and waved. “H-hi. I-I’m Sp-Sp-Spike and I want to be a p-p-pirate.” His only response was silence… the one of the ponies snorted and the pirates all went back to their business. The room was soon as it was before Spike had entered. Thanking Celestia for his lucky break, the dragon took in the scenery.

It seemed as if the patrons had taken all available space; there were pirates on the floor, on the chairs and on the tables, one of them was even hanging from the ceiling. The bar itself was in no better state, the air felt heavy with smoke and the floorboards were stained with ages old beer, wine and tobacco. Broken glasses and bottles littered the place; it was a miracle that nobody had cut themselves. And for some crazy reason, it was darker inside than it was outside. He also noticed that the room had been cut in half by an old and ragged blue curtain, the pirates reached all the way to it, but no one dared go past.

Spike approached the nearest table, noticing a group of stallions playing a game of cards. The closest to him was an earth pony with a caramel coat, his cutie mark depicted three blue horseshoes. His mane was tied into a ponytail with most of his head covered by a black bandana.

The young drake cleared his throat, trying to garner the pirate’s attention. His efforts were unsuccessful, as the stallion merely ignored him and kept playing. Not one to give up, Spike tried again, this time tapping him softly on his back.

“Excuse me… uh… mister… do you know where can I find the three pirate lords?” His tone gave away his nervousness.

The caramel pony looked down at him, grinning before opening his mouth and revealing that he was missing several teeth. He also had a terrible breath. Oh, and no tongue. He must have found Spike’s horrified face very amusing because he started laughing very loudly, his fellow players joining in after taking a look at the dragon.

Spike found himself backtracking again, away from the jolly group of buccaneers, only to trip on something fluffy and furry. It barked loudly, disgruntled at having been awoken from its nap.

On the floor again, the drake looked at his feet. There was a dog of an indeterminate breed; its body was mostly brown with her tail, legs, muzzle and underside a dirty white. It had a red collar around its neck, though Spike could only guess at what kind of pirate marked their property so, besides, it was remarkably well-fed, another oddity when you took into account the run-down tavern he was in.

“Hello doggy, what are you doing here?” He petted the animal carefully with his claw.

“Woof roof, woof.” The mutt wagged its tail excitedly.

“You don’t say.”

“A-roof, woof.”

“What happened next?” Spike wondered.

The dog growled before continuing. “Woof roof woof *grr* woof.”

“Huh.” Still laying on his back among the trash, Spike scratched his chin.

“Woof.”

Once again, the dragon stood up, dusting his clothes and shooting a determined glare at the curtain, softening as he turned back to the dog at his feet. “Oh, thanks for the tip.” Content at having fulfilled its purpose in this story, the dog barked and went back to sleep. Spike shrugged and approached the divider, steeling his will and courage for what was to come.

With one last breath, the drake pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the unknown or, rather, the ‘VIP’ room. And by VIP we mean the room was exactly like the other one minus all the ruckus and pirates, instead there was one table, right next to the window, where three fillies sat, nurturing three steins filled with Celestia-knows what. One of them had a yellow coat and a red mane, topped with a pink bow; the second one was a pegasus and sported a short purple mane and an orange coat; the last one was an unicorn, she had a light gray coat and a mulberry mane with pale rose streaks.

Spike stared wide-eyed, his mind trying to process the information but failing to take it in. The three pirate lords were nothing more than a group of school-aged fillies? They didn’t even have cutie marks! It dawned on Spike that the world was a very unfair place. Still, he had come here for a reason and by Celestia’s majestic beard, he wasn’t going to leave now.

“Ahem.”

The ‘pirate lords’ looked up from their drinks, sizing the dragon up with determined, blood-thirsty eyes. Unable to move from his spot, the dragon sat there in silence until one of them, the earth pony with the pink bow, spoke up.

“What do you want, kid?”

Spike sighed and repeated his thing for the third time this day, it had become some sort of mantra for the stressed and battered drake. “Hi, my name is Spike and I want to be a pirate!”

This time, it was the orange pegasus filly that picked up the conversation.

“And so what?” She let out, seemingly bored.

“Uh… that’s it; I just want to be a pirate.”

“Well, tough luck kid.”

“Yeah, get lost.”

Spike let his shoulders drop and was about to turn around and leave when the unicorn, the one who had remained silent so far, piped in.

“Wait, we need more pirates.”

Her comrades looked at her with marked interest.

“Remember that since LeSombra showed up we’ve been short on pirates, and having no pirates means no booty and no booty means no cider and we are getting awfully short on cider.” She punctuated her statement by pointing her hoof at the half empty mug.

The other two looked at each other. “She has a point.” The purpled-maned filly nodded and the three of them turned back at the dumbfounded Spike.

“So you wanna be a pirate, huh?”

Spike nodded in response, unable to muster an appropriate verbal answer.

“Do you have any special skills?”

“I can hold my breath for ten minutes!” He announced proudly.

“That works for me, but first you need to pass…”

“THE CIDER TEST!” They shouted in unison.

“The what now?”

“THE CIDER TEST!” They shouted again, somehow managing to be even louder.

“I’ll make a wild guess, you want me to drink cider?”

“Aye, but this is not your regular cider!”

“Do tell.”

“This is SCUMM cider!”

“It’s composed of, but not limited to, the following items:”

“Tar.”

“Apple juice.”

“Horse tranquilizers.”

“Fuel oil.”

“Rum.”

“Liquid nitrogen.”

“Mane dye.”

“Scumm.”

“Sugar.”

“Spice.”

“And/or everything nice.” Finished the unicorn by slamming her hoof against the table.

“Wouldn’t that kill you?”

“Not if y'all're a REAL pirate! Bring th' cider!”

There was a bit of a delay until a red stallion poked his head out of the kitchen door. “Nnope, y’all know that you are too young to be drinkin’ that.”

“Oh come on!”

“Nnope.” The mysterious stallion went back in and closed the door.

“That’s so uncool, what are we gonna do we with the rookie now?”

The three fillies got off their seats and formed a circle, heads in so Spike wouldn’t be able to hear them. They hadn’t counted on Spike’s incredibly useless and normal draconic hearing, and thus he wasn’t able to make out anything else than the word ‘trials’. And then only because the unicorn had said it very loudly and was promptly shushed by her peers.

As quickly as they had started to conspire, the pirate lords jumped back to their seats.

“Since you can’t take the cider test then Ah guess we’ll hafta it do it like in the old times.”

“And what would that be?”

“THE THREE TRIALS! THE THREE TRIALS! THE THREE TRIALS!” By now Spike had figured that if he spent another minute in here with these three, he was due to become deaf. Tentatively raising a claw, he inquired: “And what would those be?”

“The three trials are the ancient pirate way of testing those who seek to become a… err… pirate.” The filly said, solemnly.

“They will test your skill, courage and mettle.”

“And none of that fancy ‘being pure of heart’ thing will work here, you have to think, act and talk like a pirate.”

“The three trials are the swordspony…”

“… The thief…”

“… And the treasure hunter.”

“So all I have to do is defeat someone with a sword, steal something and find a buried treasure? That sounds easy enough.” The dragon said to himself, finally starting to regain his (limited) confidence.

“Of course not, you’ll have to defeat the Sword Master.”

“Steal the valuable golden idol from the Governor’s palace.”

“As for the treasure, it is said that one was buried in the jungle decades ago. And we could always use the money to buy more cider.”

“So… Spike, was it? What will you do?”

Author's Note

Many thanks to my pre-readers:
Pia-Chan
Jack Davis

And my proof-reader and editor:
TotallyNotAnyone

And, of course, the artist who made the amazing cover picture:
Pia-Chan

Chapter II: The Piranha Cat

CHAPTER II: THE PIRANHA CAT

Spike made the short trip up the cliffside in complete silence, welcoming the peace of mind it came with. The dragon had only been in the island for less than a day but it already felt like a lifetime, that the ponies that lived here seem to be a bit off their rockers didn’t help at all. Still, there was fresh air and the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff was soothing, helping calm his frayed nerves.

He could already spy the big mansion up ahead. The building had a strange contrast if you compared it to the rest of the town. It was taller than most of them at three stories high and it seemed to be large enough to fit, at least, a hundred people, maybe more. As with the gates, there were no visible guards.

The drake continued his trek, stopping only at a short distance from the entrance. There was a small sign, partially covered by moss and bushes, which caught his attention. Pushing the offending plants to the side, Spike read the following: BEWARE OF OPAL.

He scratched his head in confusion. Last time he had checked, opals were a kind of gemstone, and dragons ate gemstones. He couldn’t see how a gemstone, or a collection of them, could pose a threat to any intruders, let alone him.

Shrugging off the seemingly useless warning, he made for the door. Just as his claw was about to reach the knob, his ears picked up one of the most horrifying sounds he had ever heard: it was the most twisted and evil hiss imaginable. Spike tried to turn around, only to be met by a white ball of fur throwing a barrage of claw-strikes his way.

In later retellings of this story, Spike would say it was his quick pirate reflexes that saved him from certain doom. The truth was much more embarrassing, for he had let out a most unmanly shriek before stumbling down the front steps in a hurry, landing on his face but, thankfully, out of the demon’s reach.

Our hero spat out some dirt and looked up at his would-be assassin. On the front porch stood a cat, a big white cat with a purple bow and gigantic fangs, hissing madly and pulling at the leash holding it just inches away from the dragon.

“A cat, really?” Spike fumed. “I would have taken a dog, any kind of dog. Celestia, even a poodle would have been acceptable, but a guard cat?”

He considered throwing a rock at it. There were more than plenty to spare on the ground, but he ultimately decided against it. The last he wanted was to make it madder or worse, kill it. After all, he was a pirate, not a murderer.

Right now, his options were pretty limited, if he wanted to get into the governor’s house to steal the golden idol, then he’d have to find a way to get past Opal. Surveying his surroundings, Spike failed to find anything that could help him in his endeavor and thus, with a heavy heart, he returned to town.

The trip back wasn’t as soothing, the waves now sounded like they were mocking him. He had been given one simple task to carry out and already he had failed it. He didn’t even want to think what would happen with the other two.

Back in the city, he made sure to give the jailhouse a wide berth, trying to avoid any further encounters with the Sheriff ‘Prince’ Blueblood. This took him through some back alleys and he soon found himself back on the main street. He could spot the Ponies of Low Moral Fiber down the street, still playing with their bunny, as well as the weird one with the coat.

Unable to face them in his current state, he turned to go back into the alley only to find it was gone. In its place stood another building, an ominous green light coming from the drawn windows and from under the door.

He gave the front of the building a good look, not wanting to be surprised and/or mauled by another vicious animal. After a couple of minutes, and satisfied that there were no dangers, he approached the door. A small sign identified it as a store, namely “Home-made remedies for all of your magical maladies.” It certainly was a catchy name, if a tad long. His curiosity was further caught when he noticed an odd smell wafting from the store, Spike sniffed deeply... cheese? What sort of magical maladies could possibly be cured by cheese?

Spike brought his claw up, knocking twice. There was no answer. He tried again, this time a bit harder, but once again no one responded. He pounded on the door, slamming his fist against as hard as he could. All he got was a sore hand.

“Bah, it’s not like I wanted to go in anyway.” The drake made to leave but stopped on his feet when he heard a creak behind him. Turning back to the store, he saw that the door was now slightly open. Curiosity overtook him as he risked taking a peek inside.

The main room was seemingly devoid of life but, at the same time, filled with all kind of items. They ranged from shrunken heads to bone charms, passing through rugs, dusty clothes and a short stand packing several postcards, only half a bit each.

The rest was pushed open the rest of the way and Spike stepped inside.

“Hello, anyone home?”

Nothing.

Shrugging, the drake went further in, examining the strange and bizarre merchandise on display. He was specially focused on a barrel filled with life-sized dried hoof replicas (he hoped they were replicas) when a voice boomed behind him.

“What is this I see before me, is it a young whelp looking for help?”

Startled for the second time today, the dragon only managed to try and turn around, back stepping into the barrel and crashing down to the floor in a mess of dried hooves and his own tangled limbs.

Spike swore he could heard a very distinct laughter before the voice spoke again.

“Calm down, oh honoured guest, please put your mind at rest.”

He opened his eyes to see that he had not, in fact, been gobbled up. This calmed him for a couple of seconds, before he remembered he had been caught breaking and entering, most likely by the owner. He certainly had no intention of seeing Blueblood again, so he jumped back on his feet and bolted for the door.

Or he would have, had he not tripped again on the dried hooves and fallen back to the hard, wooden floor. Spike groaned, this was not his day. Thankfully, no one came to deliver him to the authorities. Instead, the voice called to him.

“Pick yourself up and enter my shop, your fall was unintended and soon your bruises will be mended."

Not wanting to tempt fate, the drake did as he was told, rubbing his aching joints and picking himself up. With a cautious step, he entered the back room. It took a while for his eyes to get used to the low illumination; the lights were dimmer here, with a creepy green tint which only added to the already weird ambience. Smoke billowed up from some unseen brazier (it was either that or the house was on fire), making him sputter and cough, quite a feat considering he was a dragon.

The decoration was sparse, but enough to make him question his presence. They consisted of skulls, lots and lots of skulls, creepy wooden masks and small dolls with dozens on pins stuck on them. Spike wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn they looked like they were in pain.

On the back sat a throne, wooden from what he could see, carved with images that made his eyes water and hurt. Pictures of strange creatures with no discernible form, a collection of eyes that stared back at him with evil intent, and tentacles and mouths with pointy, razor-sharp teeth, words in a language he had never seen or heard.

All in all, thought Spike, this was quite an unsettling place.

Just as he was finishing his examination, the voice spoke again, coming from the throne.

“Come closer, don't be shy, that is something that is best left to pegasi.”

The dragon looked back to the empty seat just to find it was now occupied. A quick look around confirmed that there were no other entrances besides the one he was currently using. Gulping, the drake stepped forward, as he had been told.

The figure before him was that of a zebra. Needless to say she had black and white stripes, plus a set of golden necklaces around her, well, neck. Her mane was styled in some sort of mohawk, nothing like the purple locks of Governor Rarity, or the pirates’ pony tails.

The striped equine observed him with marked interest but remained silent, as if daring Spike to speak up and ask just who she was. Our hero had no such intention. The silent stare-off lasted for several minutes before the dragon finally lost his nerve.

“So…” He muttered weakly. “Nice place you have here… I uh… love the décor, it’s very… ethnic?”

The zebra smiled, seemingly pleased with his compliment.

“Thank you for your kind words, Spike the Dragon, but I believe that is not what brings you here, unless perhaps I'm mistaken and you are an interior decorator.” The zebra paused her speech, as if in deep thought.

“Sure, no prob- Hey! Wait a minute, how do you know my name?”

“The spirits tell me many things, oh guest without wings, finding out your name was but a game to them.” The zebra nodded, somehow causing the intoxicating smoke to grow thicker. “Now tell me what brings you to my humble abode, is it perhaps your pirate code?”

Spike looked down, his shoulders dropping noticeably. “I’m not a pirate.”

“Is this sadness? Pray tell me, Spike the not pirate, what is it that has your soul in such deep darkness?”

The dragon coughed, these fumes were really getting to his lungs. “I…” He interrupted himself, exploding into a fit of coughs before regaining his breath. “Ever since I was a hatchling I’ve wanted to become a pirate, take part in adventures, steal unimaginable treasures and, you know, gain glory. Have people know me and talk about me… I… oh, it doesn’t matter, the pirate lords gave me three simple tasks to complete and all I’ve managed to do is piss off the sheriff, find out bunnies can dance and almost get killed by a house cat.”

“Ah, this I can understand, I’ve seen many troubled by their dreams, but why is that you want others to hold you in such high esteem?”

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be better than… this, guess I was wrong, I should just give up and go home.” The dragon turned to leave. “Thank you for your… whatever this was.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!”

Spike immediately recognized the voice, it was clearly Blueblood’s. But what was he doing here, and how had he gotten in? The drake was shocked, had the unicorn been hiding inside all along, had the creepy zebra ratted him out?
Whatever the truth was, he didn’t have time to find out. He heard Blueblood move in for the kill before he could even turn around to see him. Only his reflexes allowed him to jump out of the way, a cutlass smashing into the floor right where he had been standing.

“WHAT THE HAY?” The dragon shouted as his eyes darted to the sides, trying to catch a glimpse of his ‘host’. However, the zebra was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared as magically as she had appeared.

Spike stood before the sheriff, the tall unicorn wielding the weapon in his magic aura and staring down at him with wicked eyes. “I thought I was clear when I said I didn’t want to see you again, coal-head.”

The drake had no time to respond before his opponent swung again barely managing to scramble out of the way, the blade cutting into his tail’s scales and leaving a deep, red gash. Spike winced in pain, out of the unicorn’s reach. The enemy had drawn first blood.

He quickly analyzed the situation. The room had no exits, save the door he had used to get in, and Blueblood was currently covering. He had no weapon to defend himself with while the sheriff had a nasty looking sword. Finally, he was small and his enemy was huge.

Clearly this could only end well.

“Come on, Blueblood, can’t we just talk this out or something? I haven’t done anything!” Spike pleaded with his assailant.

“That’s Sheriff Prince Blueblood to you, criminal scum, besides I don’t negotiate with terrorists!”

“W-wha-“ Spike had to dodge again, landing in a heap of dolls as Blueblood struck again, clearly intent on killing the wannabe pirate. He struggled to extricate himself from the mess before the sheriff could move in for the kill but only managed to dig himself further into the pile. Frantic, he resorted to throwing the dolls at the unicorn.

Needless to say they all bounced harmless of his coat. Blueblood laughed a deep, arrogant and annoying laugh that made Spike grind his teeth. Without knowing how or why, the small drake got off the doll pile and jumped at his enemy, landing on its back.

That shut Blueblood up. The unicorn yelled something about how the vermin had to get off his back and started bucking, trying to dislodge the dragon. Spike held fast, grabbing onto the unicorn’s flowing mane as hard as he could. He was in a good position, the sheriff couldn’t use his sword for fear of stabbing himself in the process.

“You better not be doing anything to my beautiful hair or I swear I’ll make shoes out of your hide!”

The distraction proved effective. Blueblood dropped his cutlass on the floor, trying to concentrate on getting Spike off him. Seizing the chance, Spike waited until the asshole was with all four hooves on the ground before jumping away and retrieving the fallen sword. His opponent could only watch in terror as the now armed dragon brandished his weapon.

“I’ve had it with you, Celestia damn it, I was willing to walk away and go back home but you had to barge in here and try to kill me, what have I ever done to you, can’t you just leave me the hay alone?!” The drake closed his eyes as he vented his frustration on the ‘Prince’.

When he opened them, however, both the sword and the unicorn were gone.

Spike blinked, that’s it, it was official, he was going insane. As if to add to his conclusion, the zebra spoke from behind him, having reappeared out of thin air.

“Didn’t you say you were going to surrender, Spike the not pirate? What was there to gain from standing against him, when you could just lay down your arms and meet your, no doubt, grim ending?”

Spike wanted to tell her you couldn’t die in Alexarts games, but decided not to be sarcastic for once. “I… I couldn’t let him see me defeated, not that jerk, not when I know I’m better than him.”

“So your pride would not allow you to fail when others are watching?”

“I guess?”

“What are you really doing this for, Spike, is it gems, is it them, or perhaps a femme?"

“No!” Spike exclaimed. “I’m doing this because I want to, because I want to be a pirate, the best pirate there ever was!” Just as he finished shouting clicked inside his mind. “Wait… you are right, I’m doing this for me, I don’t need the others to approve of what I do, I just need to try my best!”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Agreed the zebra.

“Thank you, creepy zebra lady, and now if you’ll excuse me I have an idol to steal!” Spike was ready to dart off, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up to see the zebra smiling at him.

“Before you go, little dragon, know that cats are fond of fish, I’m sure there is something you can do with this.”

Spike smiled back, his brain already working to come up with a plan. If that ghost had taught him anything is that you didn’t need to be bigger to win, just smarter. Or breathe fire, either would do.

The zebra let go and the dragon made his way out, happiness clear by the spring in his step.

Author's Note

Frankly, I'm not too convinced about this chapter, it feels weak somehow.

Also, I hated writing Zecora (I can't rhyme to save my life) and that's what made me take all this time. Zecora single-handedly gave me writer's block.

Knowing I'll have to write her again only makes me madder.

She truly is worst pony/zebra/equine.

I promise the next few chapters will be better and longer, but fuckin' Zecora.

At least we have Trixie to look up to.

Chapter III: Fish and Showmares

CHAPTER III: FISH AND SHOWMARES

Spike exited the shop and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and taking in the smells. It was mostly a mix of sweat and trash, but it was okay, the dragon had a purpose now and no one would be able to keep him from fulfilling it.

He let the air escape his lungs slowly. Now, he thought, where can I find some fish at this hour? The answer was, of course, the SCUMM bar, it was the only establishment still open at this hour of the night.

The drake started walking, passing by groups of pirates and citizens alike with a smile on his face. In his current state, he couldn’t help but feel that things were going to be just fine. The ambience didn’t disappoint, everything seemed clearer, the faces friendlier, as if the whole world was conspiring to be happy with him.

He strolled into the SCUMM bar, happily ignoring the drunken patrons and the three pirate lords and making a beeline for the kitchen’s door. He knocked twice before the someone responded, the door creaking slightly open and the stallion he had seen earlier poking out to see who was bothering him.

“Eeyup?”

“Why, hello there my good fellow, how is this gorgeous evening treating you?”

The red stallion shot him a quizzical look, his eyebrows arched high in his face.

“I was wondering if you had any fish you could spare, official pirate business you see.”

“Ten bits,” he responded with a flat and bored tone.

“Well, I don’t have ten bits on my per-“ Spike tried to explain himself but the stallion snorted and closed the door. The drake waited and then knocked again.

The door opened.

“Ten bits.”

“As I was trying to explain before, I do-“

SLAM

The dragon sighed and knocked for the third time. As before, the stallion opened it just barely and stated his price. This time, however, Spike moved his foot forward, blocking the door. He looked up with a victorious smile.

“I don’t have ten bits,” he stated, finally managing to say his piece.

“No bits, no fish.”

“There’s no way in Tartarus you’ll give me that fish?”

“Nnope.”

“You will only give it to me if I pay you ten bits?”

“Eeyup.”

“Do you take cheques?”

“Nnope?”

“Is there anything I can say or do that will convince you of giving me that fish?” Spike tried to muster the best puppy-eyes he could.

“Nnope.”

Drat, this guy is made of stone, Spike considered. “All right, I’ll be back with ten bits.”

“Eeyup,” the red pony agreed.

“I’ll remove my foot now.”

“…”

The drake pulled his limb out of the door and the cook promptly shut it again, leaving Spike alone with the three pirate lords, who were observing with mild interest.

“Now where can I find ten bits?”

He stepped back outside and basked in the breeze while he collected his thoughts. He didn’t know anyone who would be willing to lend him the money, nor did he have anything to sell but his labour. Spike was going to have to get a job.

The wind got stronger, and a flying sheet of paper impacted his face. “Warglblar-“ The drake struggled to get it off him, finally succeeding and giving it a good look. It was a flyer, the yellowish paper a bit faded around the edges.

On it was a picture of a mare, though not the governor. Instead, the advert showed a smiling pony, her teeth gleaming, her face locked in a smug grin that seemed to tell the viewer: ‘I’m great, deal with it’. The text below claimed the MOST AMAZING and SPECTACULAR SHOW of MAGIC and SKILL had recently arrived to the island, and that all, stallion, mare or foal were invited (for a fee, of course) to attend. The address given was a huge tent in the middle of the island.

The drake scratched his chin. “Well, maybe she’ll need an assistant?” With no time to waste, he set his destination and started walking.

Later

The ‘circus’, if Spike could call it that, was truly a sight to behold. The tent was gigantic, set in the middle of a clearance and taking up most of the available space. The fabric was blue and gold, and the main post, right in the middle, had a large, shining star set at its top, illuminating the night like a lighthouse.

Its surrounding area, or what was left of it, had been occupied by several smaller tents and carriages, its contents unknown to the dragon, but they were decorated in the same extravagant manner. The main entrance was flanked by a booth, with a large red sign reading “TICKETS” stuck over it.

He could hear muffled voices coming out of the main tent, though the specific words were unintelligible. With a smile on his face, the drake stepped forth towards the door, only to be stopped by a cane getting in his way. His eyes followed it to the hoof holding it, a stubby opal limb.

The owner of the aforementioned leg, a likewise stubby colt with an orange mane and a scissor cutie mark, cleared his throat and put on his best serious face. “Where do you think you are going, pal?”

He was accompanied by another colt, a gangly and tall pony with an amber coat and a snail cutie mark. His expression, however, looked far more pleasing, as if he was lost in some strange but satisfying thought.

“Uh,” Spike stuttered, trying to come up with a good excuse. “I wanted to… see… the magic show?” He flashed them a winning smile.

The colt frowned. “Do you have a ticket?”

“Why yes, I do.”

“Let me see it.”

“Sure,” the dragon made a show of going through his pockets, his face going from pleased to horrified as he shuffled his claws. “Oh no, I must have left it in my other pants, you know, my going-to-magic-shows set of pants. If you just let me in I’m sure I can go and get them afterwards.”

The pony was clearly not amused. “You see that, Snails, this guy is trying to con us!”

His companion nodded amiably. “Yeah, nobody… uh… cons us, Snips!”

Snips turned his gaze back to Spike, who was halfway to the door, having attempted to sneak in. “Stop that!”

“Aw, come on, can’t you just let me in as a favour?”

“No can do, the Great and Powerful Trixie would have our coats if we let anyone in without paying.”

“Fine,” the drake sighed. “How much?”

The stubby colt pointed his cane at the sign.

STALLIONS: 10 BITS
MARES: 7 BITS
FOALS: 5 BITS
ASK ABOUT LADIES’ NIGHTS!

Spike raised a finger. “What about ladies’ night?”

“I’m glad you asked,” the one named Snails smiled at the dragon before him. “Each and every Thursday, the Great and Powerful Trixie, our benevolent overlord and the greatest and most powerful magician in existence, puts on a special show. As you must be well aware of, mares are superior to stallions in every conceivable way and as such must given special privileges, such as seeing the the Great and Powerful Trixie for free!”

Both Spike and Snips stared at Snails, who immediately returned to his dumb, blank stare into nothingness.

“Wow… that was incredibly sexist.”

“Whatever, that’s the deal about Ladies’ Night, now are you going to buy a ticket or not?”

“Well, I would if I weren’t a…” Spike stopped, was he really going to do this, put his personal honour and dignity on the line just to get into a magic show for free? Oh, who was he kidding, he had run out of those long ago. “A lady…”

Snips deadpanned. “A lady… do you really expect us to fall for such a low trick? We can see you are a dude from miles way, ain’t that right Snails?”

Snails drooled a bit.

“Well,” Spike struggled to remember his Gender Studies classes. “Of course you’d say that… cis scum.”

“Cis what now?”

“You need to check your privilege, though I can’t say that I’m surprised that a bigot like you walks around using the wrong pronouns and questioning peoples’ chosen genders, I bet mares have trigger warnings just by being close to you, not that any would like to,” the drake smirked, it seemed taking a liberal arts course had finally paid off, take that, 1%. “Typical product of oppressive cis straight white-pony male patriarchy.”

The colt opened his mouth to defend himself but was promptly interrupted.

“I’m offended, wounded even. By referring to me as a dude instead of a transethnic genderqueer multiple being, or xhezi for short, you have committed a hate crime. I bet the SHEriff will have a great time arresting you.”

Snips just stared at the dragon before turning to his companion. “Did you understand a single word of what…”

“Xhezi,” Spike helped.

“A single word of what xhezi said?”

Snails shook his head.

“Huh, I guess… xhezi really is a woman after all.”

The drake beamed at the two colts, most of his face currently occupied by the smuggest grin he had ever been able to produce. “Now if you two gentlemen excuse me, I have a show to catch,” he bid them goodbye, moving for the door and pulling it open before stepping inside.

"Call me!"

Spike let the tent’s flaps fall back behind him, drowning Snips' voice, as he entered the circus, his eyes easily adjusting to the dark and smoky ambience. The inside was set up in a fairly common manner, with a stage on the centre of the large tent and some bleachers right in front of it.

The audience was currently occupying all available seats, and if their 'ooh's and 'aah's were anything to go by, they were certainly enjoying themselves.

Every now and then there would be a loud poof sound followed by an explosion of lights and coloured smoke that lazily drifted to the ceiling. Each of these was punctuated by more of expressions of delight. A loud, booming voice could be heard, even above all the noise, announcing the tricks that, Spike assumed, were about to take place.

The drake moved to the side, taking a seat to the left of the stage, giving him a perfectly clear view. No one had bothered to prepare any chairs or benches, so he assumed the show only sold a predetermined amount of tickets per viewing. Indeed, from where he was standing, Spike could see the tent’s back exit and several items, a collection of swords, some torches and knives, a rabbit, which would otherwise be out of sight for the rest of the public.

Settled and comfortable, the dragon took heed of the show. There on the stage stood an azure mare, a unicorn, wearing some very outlandish clothes, a purple cape and a purple wizard hat, both adorned with a star motif. Her mane, visible under her headwear, was a very light and pale blue.

She didn’t seem to have noticed Spike’s presence to the side, being concentrated on the larger part of the crowd right in front of her, apparently in the middle of telling some kind engrossing of tale.

“And that it’s how the Great and Powerful Trixie single-hoofedly destroyed the Death Moon, defeated the tyrannical gryphon empire and brought peace to the Galaxy!” Just as she shouted the last word, there was another explosion that engulfed the scenario in a shower of red, white, and blue sparkles. Some strange music blared in the background, giving the whole thing a very… interesting ending. Without realizing it, Spike found himself clapping along with the rest of the viewers.

“And now for her next trick Trixie will need a volunteer!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and many hooves shot up followed by cries of ‘Oh, oh, pick me!’. Trixie’s smug grin didn’t falter as she slowly scanned the public for a proper volunteer. Meanwhile the dragon remained in the sidelines, observing the process.

Trixie looked and looked and looked, Spike noticed that her confident smile was slowly disappearing from her face, perhaps none of the ponies were useful volunteers, but that’d be odd, why would a veteran magician offer to perform something that she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull off?

Regardless of her reasons, the unicorn soon found herself unable to stall any longer and with a worried expression she pointed her azure hoof at the loudest earth pony in the group. “Y-you there, come up to the stage!"

“Woo!” The pony she had chosen jumped up in joy. The volunteer was completely forgettable, his coat a dull shade of yellow sporting some strange cube as a cutie mark. “Did you see that, Trixie chose me, woo!” He stepped forward, the crowd parting to let him through and he soon was up on the stage alongside the magician.

“Right then, what is your name?” Trixie inquired.

The excited stallion squealed like a schoolgirl. “Oh, oh, I can’t believe I’m meeting the Great and Powerful Trixie, my name is Set-“

“Great, that’s great, now if you please get into that box over there?” The performer pointed at a long, pony-sized rectangular box currently sitting on a table. “Just open it and step inside, Trixie will take care of everything else.”

The spectator-turned-participant complied with his idol’s orders and entered the box, closing it after he was done. Four specially made holes allowed his legs to stay out of the hole, wriggling uncomfortably in the air.

“Behold as the Great and Powerful Trixie saws off this pony’s hooves and then puts them back together through the power of her mind and will alone!” She levitated a saw as she said this, the clean and definitely sharp metal gleaming under the lights. The audience ‘ooh’d’ and then remained respectfully silent, leaning towards the stage.

Spike could swear he saw the unicorn gulp and sweat under her hat as she turned her back on the bleachers and approached the box. The earth pony, on the other hand, was all smiles, waving one of his legs at the crowd.

“Trixie warns you this might sting a little.”

The saw, enveloped in a pale magenta magic aura, came down and started moving, the sound of the serrated edge making its way through flesh and muscle breaking the silence. The ‘volunteer’ looked down once, shivered and then closed his eyes, his head going limp.

After a couple of minutes of work, Trixie turned back to her public, holding both the bloody saw and the pony’s front leg. Her own coat, cape and hat were splattered with her willing assistant’s vital fluids.

The azure unicorn put on her largest smile, beaming at the crowd. “Ta-da!”

A cricket chirped outside.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie will garner the mystical and forgotten forces of magic, the heavens themselves will part at her word and even Mother Nature will bow to her will, reuniting this eh… limb with its rightful owner, it’ll be as if this had never happened!” The leg in question floated down to the still unconscious earth pony and was stuck on the stump with a loud squelch.

Then it promptly fell off, hitting the wooden stage with a thud and spilling more blood. Spike and the rest of the audience stared dumb-founded, Trixie’s smile faltered, her lips trembling and large beads of sweat streaming down her face.

The stand-off between the magician and the public lasted for a while, the tension in the air getting thicker with each passing second. It was like a barrel of powder ready to explode, all it would take was a tiny spark for it to blow up and take everyone with it.

The spark came in the form of a pony entering the tent, his voice sounding both apologetic and amused. “Hey Trix, sorry about bailing before the final act but I really had to use the little colt’s room, hope they weren’t disappointed.”

More than a hundred pair of eyes turned his way and the stallion froze on the spot. Spike could observe he was dressed with common clothes, nothing flashy like Trixie’s, and that one of his legs had been replaced by a very life-like replica.

Well, this explained why the unicorn had become so nervous when choosing a volunteer.

The dragon’s memories about the following events were never very clear, and for good reason. The entire audience rose as if it were a single pony and rushed the stage yelling and hollering in anger, whether they were worried about their friend or just wanted to tear Trixie apart, the drake could not tell.

Fortunately for her, the stallion bolted for the door as soon as they moved, distracting a couple of the mob’s leaders and giving the magician enough time to cast another explosive spell, creating an instant smoke screen to cover her escape and leaving the now legless ‘assistant’ behind.

Once again, sitting on the sidelines paid off as the smoke only covered the front of the stage. Spike was treated to the sight of retreating unicorn and she jumped off the stage and out of the tent, catching a glimpse of her carriage.

When the smoke cleared away, the angry mob was left with no one to lynch. Grumbling and disappointed, the pirates recovered their wounded mate (who had just woken up and was still gushing about ‘how cool it was that the Great and Powerful Trixie cut my leg off!’) and exited, some claiming they were going to get a full refund (they didn’t).

Spike waited until they had all left before going after Trixie. He didn’t want anypony to ruin what was perhaps his only chance at scoring enough dosh to see him through his trials and adventures.

Finally satisfied that he was alone, the dragon ventured outside of the tent, following the hoof-marks the performer had left in her haste to escape. As expected, they lead to a carriage parked right next to the main stage. Both the windows and the doors looked securely locked.

Still, Spike thought, he wasn’t about to leave without checking first. He knocked on the door once… twice… thrice… but there was no answer so he tried again and again. The dragon kept knocking on the door until, finally, an annoyed voice spoke up.

“Cease that at once! You are giving Trixie a Great and Powerful head-!”

Spike grinned. “Aha, so you are in there after all!”

“No, Trixie is not here, this carriage is empty, you can leave now,” her tone was now one of panic, she probably remembered the look on the face of some of her ‘admirers’.

“Uh huh, and I’m Princess Celestia. Now please, can you open this door? I really need to talk to you,” the drake pleaded.

“How can the Great and Powerful Trixie make sure that this is not a devious and malignant trap devised to capture her?”

“I give you my word as a pirate.”

The sound of hooves tip-toeing on wood reached his ears and soon the door creaked open, but only a bit, enough for the unicorn to take a peek outside. Her eyes darted around, unable to find the speaker.

“Where did you go?”

"Down here!" Spike grumbled, fuming. He was getting tired of being reminded of his short stature.

“Y-you? You are a pirate, really?”

The dragon swore he could hear some soft giggling inside but nodded in agreement.

“Ha! You look more like a library assistant to the Great and Powerful Trixie.” Spike regarded her with a cold stare. “But Trixie guesses you are inoffensive enough, you may enter.” And with that she let the drake in.

Unlike Zecora’s store, Trixie’s carriage was sparsely decorated. There was a bed built against one of the walls, a desk cluttered with papers and dirty plates, and a couple of shelves stacked with books. That was about it.

The magician caught Spike’s surprised look, grinning smugly. “Just because Trixie puts on a wonderful act for the audience doesn’t mean that she has to do the same at home,” she took a few steps back, allowing herself to rest against the desk. “In any case, you said you had something you wanted to tell to Trixie, a declaration of love perhaps?” The unicorn chuckled. “If so, save it, Trixie gets hundreds, nay thousands of them every day! Alas, the life of a true artist is full of sacrifices and thus Trixie must wander from town to town, leaving a trail of broken hearts.”

The dragon just stared at the performer, unable to believe what he was hearing. Was this mare really that self-absorbed?

“I see you have been rendered speechless by the Great and Powerful Trixie’s radiant beauty, it’s to be expected, of course.”

Spike shook his head and mustered the most sarcastic tone he could. “Oh, woe is me for I will never be able to have Trixie, whatever shall I do with my life now?”

The azure unicorn frowned. “Trixie will have you know that she is no stranger to sarcasm.”

“Good, then we are on the same note.”

“What do you want, dragon?”

“I want to work for you, and the name's Spike, by the way.”

Trixie gave Spike a long, thoughtful look and then burst into laughter. “Y-you… work for Trixie?” She laughed until her legs couldn’t hold her anymore and she hit the floor, she laughed until tears came out of her eyes.

The drake would have half a mind to leave right there and then, but he really needed the money, humiliation or not. “Yes, I work for you, you pay me with bits, that’s how capitalism works.”

“Oh my Celestia, you are serious? Allow me to laugh harder,” and she did.

Spike’s foot tapped on the floor as he waited for the magician to finish mocking him. Speaking only when he was sure Trixie had recovered some semblance of control.

“Are you quite done?”

“Yes, yes, Trixie thinks so and she must really thank you, it had been a while since she last laughed so.”

“Always a pleasure.”

"Now tell Trixie, what skills do you have? Perhaps you wish to be a clown for her act? She could imagine you falling all over yourself and being mocked by the audience! But Trixie has no patience for clowns, she accepts none but the highest quality of assistants, those who are deserving of working with her!"

“Oh, you mean like that pony back there, the ‘bathroom break’ guy? Sure, high quality material right there.”

“Trixie resents that accusations, he came highly recommended,” the magician defended herself.

“By whom, Discord?”

“Enough of this, tell Trixie what you want.”

“That’s fair, I’ll be your assistant, get my limbs cut off, the whole deal and you’ll pay me one hundred bits.”

“One hundred bits? The other pony only got twenty bits per hour!”

“Yes, but he also almost got you killed, I won’t.”

“Hmmph, you drive a hard bargain.”

Spike couldn’t but notice a subtle change in his would-be employer’s demeanour, the mare was taking a more relaxed stance, her eyelids dropping slowly. Is she trying to seduce me? Spike thought. Being a dragon and first-hand witness to Trixie’s personality, he didn’t find her attractive at all, if anything this was off-putting.

“Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” She smiled widely. “But you will have to wear this costume if you wish to be Trixie’s assistant.”

“What costume?”

Trixie levitated a small bunny-suit.

“N-no, you can’t be serious!”

Trixie’s smile was now taking the better part of her face, it was clear she was enjoying this. “Take it or leave it.”

In Spike’s defence, he really did try to come up with a good counter. His brain worked over and analyzed each and every single retort, chance or possibility that would allow him to retain employment while avoiding that horrifying suit. He didn’t find any.

Fresh out of options, the dragon conceded defeat. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” Trixie hoof-pumped much to the dragon’s surprise. “Uh… Trixie means that you need not look so sad,” the magician cleared her throat, blushing as she did so. “And it is agreed then, you will be Trixie’s little bunny.”

“Right,” the drake scratched his nape, this was starting to become awkward. “So, when do I start?”

“The next show won’t be for a couple of hours, Spike the Dragon may rest here until such a time. In the meantime Trixie has some paperwork to do,” the mare declared as she turned to her desk and started shuffling notes.

Spike observed her with little interest before jumping up into her bed. He decided that staring at the wall would be better than staring at Trixie’s rump and so he laid down with his back turned to her. He could hear the unicorn working in the background, speaking to herself about something being cute and taking pictures. Whatever, the mare was crazy anyway.

Still, Spike conceded, it had been a pretty tiring day and he couldn’t stave off sleep for too long, his last thoughts before succumbing to the dreams were about the governor and her –beautiful- purple locks.

Several hours later

Spike woke up slowly, his consciousness trickling into his brain and bringing the dragon back from the magical world of dreams. He wasn’t too sure about it but he remembered something about marshmallows and fire. It was okay though, he was used to dreaming about food, the ones about ice cream where his favourites. It was a shame the accursed weather of the Caribbean made real ice cream melt in mere seconds.

As was common when he awoke, the drake stretched his arms, hoping to hear the ‘pop’ that often came from his joints when he did so. That is, he would have had his arms not been pinned by some strange force.

His half-asleep mind only processed this information for a couple of seconds before going into full panic mode, Spike started struggling, scared for his life, trying to get off of whatever was holding him. All efforts were in vain, however, and while his legs and tail were free whatever it was that held his arms did not want to let go.

Fully awake now, the dragon opened his eyes. He was welcomed by a wooden wall covered in posters. This he remembered, it was the wall from that mare’s cart… what was her name again? Trixie, it was Trixie.

This thought calmed him somewhat, he was still in Trixie’s cart and not kidnapped and taken away to some faraway amusement park of horror where he would be forced to spend the rest of his life chained to tiny castle singing about how small the world was.

He looked down, hoping to catch a glance of his captor. There were two azure hooves crossed over his chest, holding his arms against his sides. That was odd, Spike thought, he didn’t remember having any hooves, azure or otherwise.

His current position facing the wall kept him from seeing anything else so he wriggled and turned some more until he was fully around. Now, our dragon didn’t consider himself to be especially handsome, even if he did pose in front of a mirror every now and again. As far as he knew, ponies liked ponies, zebras liked zebras and dragons didn’t like anyone. Thus, it was very confusing to find that he was now face to face with the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie, of all mares, and that she was currently fast asleep, snuggling him tightly against her chest.

Spike instantly made up his mind. If his inner clock wasn’t wrong then it was almost time for the show. A sleeping Trixie meant no show, no show meant no pay, no pay meant no fish, no fish meant no robbing the governor, no robbing the governor meant not becoming a pirate. He had to wake the magician up.

He considered his options, but felt that shouting in her ear would be liable to predispose the unicorn against her new ‘assistant’, breathing fire on her face was also out of the question and he couldn’t tickle her with his arms trapped. The drake stood there, uncomfortable and a bit weirded out until it hit him… or rather his tail hit her.

It wasn’t such a bad idea, all he had to do was poke her with his pointy tail and she’d eventually get up. Spike put his plan into motion, using his dexterous appendage to repeatedly bop the unicorn magician in the chest. At first there was no reaction but soon she stirred. The drake held his breath, elated and hopeful, only to have it crushed out of his lungs as Trixie just held him even tighter.

With his life (and ever decreasing oxygen reserves) now on the line, Spike started poking her harder and faster. He was about to black out when the azure pony’s eye fluttered open as she let out a massive yawn, the dragon couldn’t help but notice that her breath smelled like fresh mint, a clear sign of proper dental hygiene, if anything.

Trixie stared at Spike with half-lidded eyes, smiling widely. The drake could only look back at her in shocked silence as she moved her face forward, nuzzling him and mumbling incoherently. That was the last drop.

The drake cleared his throat as loudly as he could. “Ahem.”

The unicorn’s eyes shot wide open in sheer terror, pushing Spike away from her as far as she could. There was a tell-tale blush on her cheeks as she stammered: “Y-you are n-not the Fluffy and Comfortable Teddy.”

“That would be a no.”

His would-be employer jumped off the bed, leaving Spike alone on the comfortable mattress, magically procuring her hat and cape and immediately donning them.

“Now, I’m not one to complain, but just what was that about?” The dragon stood up, trying to straighten his shirt before sitting down and letting his legs hang over the side of the bed.

“Hmmph,” The azure unicorn harrumphed. “Obviously the Great and Powerful Trixie must have been unable to find the Fluffy and Comfortable Teddy, she must have fallen asleep after hours of incessant searching and that’s when you…” She pointed her hoof accusingly. “Decided to take advantage of the Great and Powerful Trixie’s gentle and caring nature to get close to her!”

Spike raised an eyebrow, there was a teddy bear sitting right on top of Trixie’s desk, clearly visible behind her.

“Of course.”

“Good, it’s settled then, and now neither you or the Great and Powerful Trixie will speak of this ever again, is that clear?”

“I’m sure that would be quite the scandal, I can already see headlines!” Spike fanned his arms open in front of him. “Trixie Tries To Tackle Dragon, Defeated During Struggle, Snuggled.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie does not find that amusing,” She replied with a furious frown as she opened the door. “Now get out of Trixie’s cart, the show business doesn’t wait for anyone.”

The stage was suddenly illuminated by the lights of a dozen floating orbs made out of pure magic. They cast a blue’ish, mystical tint over the whole place, Spike guessed they were used to create a proper ambience to what his employer called the ‘show business’.

Be it as it may, they seemed to have a good effect. The group of ponies, apparently having not heard of Trixie’s foray into eighteenth century battlefield surgery, went silent, their eyes wide as platters and fixed on the platform.

There was a sudden explosion and smoke filled the room as loud music blared from some unseen place, this was quickly followed by several rays of light, red, green, blue shot forth from the centre of the stage. The magician’s voice, magically enhanced, boomed over the already deafening music.

“LADIES AND GENTLECOLTS, PREPARE TO BE AMAZED FOR…” The smoke was thrown apart by a gust of wind, revealing Trixie standing on a small podium, the lightshow coming out of her horn, a winning smile on her face, cape billowing in the air. “TRIXIE HAS ARRIVED!”

The crowd went wild while Spike observed from behind the stage, scratching his butt. The bunny suit had turned out to be not only incredibly humiliating but also tight, uncomfortable and itchy. None of that seemed to matter to his unicorn employer, who was glowing from all the attention her theatrics were gathering.

Still, he was lucky, his services would only be needed for the last part of the spectacle. For now all he had to do was sit on the ground while the performer played the crowed like a finely tuned piano. He could not deny she was skilled in that regard, every single one of her lines, tricks or explosions were quickly followed by cheers and wild shouting.

After an hour or so, his cue came up and Spike sighed dejectedly, getting into the cage Trixie had made available for him. He closed the lock, which he noted was broken, and waited until his prison was enveloped in a magenta aura and floated up and into the stage.

The magician winked at him before turning to face the audience. “TODAY TRIXIE HAS A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU, STRAIGHT FROM THE BADLANDS, ONE OF THE MOST FEROCIOUS PREDATORS TO EVER LAY ITS EYES ON PONYKIND… A DRAGON!” She claimed as she stepped to the side, letting the ponies see Spike. “BE AWED AS TRIXIE TAMES THIS DANGEROUS BEAST AND BINDS ITS WILL TO HER OWN!”

The dragon in question shot the spectators the most bored look he could muster. “Roar.”

Several mares fainted in the arms of their couples, a foal started crying and sobbing in sheer terror.

“DO NOT BE AFRAID,” his boss assured them. “TRIXIE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE HERSELF IF SOMETHING WERE TO HAPPEN TO HER BELOVED AUDIENCE!”

However, with the crowd busy staring at her, the azure unicorn gave the cage a good kick, the door flinging open. The public gasped, holding their breaths as Spike stepped outside, menacing with his spikes, fangs, and playcolt bunny suit.

“Roar,” he said flatly.

“OH NO, IT SEEMS THE BEAST HAS ESCAPED AND SEEKS REVENGE, BUT WORRY NOT, TRIXIE WILL SUBDUE IT WITH HER AMAZING POWERS!”

Spike felt the aura envelope him again, making him float in the air until he was eye to eye with Trixie. There was just something he didn’t like about that glint in hers but he had a job to do. He opened his mouth, just as the unicorn had instructed him to do, baring his pointy teeth and preparing a fireball. Trixie just stared.

Sweat ran down his forehead, if the magician didn’t move her face away from his maw she’d find herself on fire pretty soon. But Trixie didn’t move or flinch. He tried moving his own head away, but found it securely locked in place by magic. Spike was about to shout for help when the fireball formed in his mouth and shot forward… missing Trixie, who had moved away less than a second before.

“AHA, AND NOW OBSERVE HOW THE CONFUSED BRUTE IS AN EASY PREY TO TRIXIE’S DARING TRICKS!” She held Spike’s mouth open and removed her hat, her mane sparkling under the lights. “I SHALL NOW PUT MY HEAD IN THE DRAGON’S MAW!”

“Wait, wha-“ Spike barely had time to complain before the magician shoved her snout into his mouth. Unluckily for both of them, his ‘maw’ wasn’t as large as a grown dragon’s and Trixie found herself unable to cram more than a couple of inches inside, and quite uncomfortably at that.

The drake tried to say something, anything to get the mare off his face, but all he managed to do was give his employer a face-full of spittle. Undaunted, the performer removed herself from Spike and stuck her hoof in instead, looking at the crowd.

“AT ANY MOMENT THIS VICIOUS DRAGON MAY CHOOSE TO EAT TRIXIE WHOLE, SEE HOW SHE DOMINATES IT WITH HER SUPERIOR INTELLECT AND SKILLS!”

The crowd swooned as she withdrew her hoof and put Spike back down on the stage. The drake promptly scurried off to find a glass of water. Didn’t ponies realize that using their hooves to walk and put things in their mouths was disgustingly unhygienic?

Another explosion of colour and smoke went up behind him as Trixie carried on with the show and announced her next act.

“AND NOW FOR OUR LAST TRICK,” she paused for dramatic effect, the public already on the edge of their seats due to Trixie’s unwavering valour in the face of danger. “THE DRAGON WILL SHOW ITS SUBMISSION TO THEIR BETTERS BY KISSING TRIXIE!”

Spike, who was halfway through a mouthwash to get the taste of her hoof off his tongue, did a spit-take. "WH- I DON- THAT WASN'T IN THE CONTRACT!"

The mare was grinning from ear to ear. “TRIXIE SAID THE DRAGON WILL KISS HER NOW!”

“NO,” Spike folded his arms. “NO WAY NO HOW!”

“Do it or you don’t get paid,” the tricky unicorn said high enough for the dragon to hear but low enough so that the audience wouldn’t pick it up. She also flung her cape back, revealing a bit-pouch hanging inside.

“Yo-you are a horrible pony,” the drake sighed in defeat. “And I can’t believe I’m seriously going to do this.”

The mare laughed before bringing her head down to the drake’s level. “YOU MAY NOW KISS TRIXIE, DRAGON!” She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, expectantly.

He looked around, looking for an escape. There was none. Do or die, was the thought that crossed his mind as he closed his own eyes and leaned forward, thinkofRaritythinkofRaritythinkofRarity…

The showgoers exploded into a fit of applause, whistling and shouting as Spike’s lips made contact with Trixie’s. He left them there just the right amount of time for everyone to see them and then pulled back, holding in his gags and trying to keep a straight face. She, on the other side, craned her neck back up, the blush on her cheeks visible only to the drake.

“THE DRAGON SUBMITS TO TRIXIE!”

More applauses and hollering, Spike couldn’t take it anymore and jumped off the stage while his employer was showered with praise, flowers and bits. It had been a successful night for the showmare.

“Ninety eight… ninety nine… one hundred,” Trixie counted the last bit before handing the pouch over to Spike, who gingerly accepted it. The drake was more than happy to be back in his old clothes and, more importantly, about to leave the crazy mare for good.

Once the bits secure in his bottomless pockets, the dragon couldn’t help but smile. He was one step closer to realizing his goal of becoming a pirate.

“Trixie must give praise where praise is due, you have been by far the best assistant Trixie has ever had, she would have half a mind to hire you permanently…” She paused, giving the dragon an inviting smile. “If you were interested, that is, though who would deny himself the chance to work for Trixie and bask in her perfection?” She punctuated her statement by swinging her head and hair dramatically under the moonlight.

“Right,” Spike scratched his nape. “Good luck with that, Trixie, but I… uh… have other things to do and Igottagonowbye!”

By the time she looked down, Spike was gone, the only reminder of his presence being the tracks he had left on the dirt in his haste to escape.

Chapter I: The Idol of the Many Hooves

CHAPTER I: THE IDOL OF THE MANY HOOVES

Spike pondered his options carefully. On one side he had wanted to become a pirate ever since he was a child, back at home, and had heard of their exploits, glory and lust for adventure. Granted, the pony who had told him about this was on his way to be hanged for piracy, so maybe he wasn’t a trustworthy source, but the idea had stuck.

On the other side, he could quit right now. He knew for certain that were always openings for pirates and former pirates, heck, some people even hired FAILED pirates. He wasn’t too sure about the employment prospects of a failed wannabe pirate though. He briefly wondered if that offer to become a flooring inspector was still open, floors were still unable to kill you, last time he checked.

All three pirate lords waited for the drake to make his decision, observing his changing expressions with interest. The little guy seemed to be deep in thought. Finally, after several minutes of waiting, the pegasus filly got fed up and threw her mug at the dragon, disrupting his chain of thought and bringing him back to the present scene.

“Come on, make a choice, I’m dying of boredom here!”

Having been so rudely interrupted, Spike could only glare in anger at his offender. “Fine, I’ll do it, I’ll take your tests and become the best pirate the world has ever seen.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say lad.”

“Now get out of here, and remember you have to bring us proof that you have completed each test, wouldn’t want to pass a cheater.”

“Really? You are okay with killing, stealing, sacking, and looting but all of the sudden cheating is wrong?”

“Nobody said life’s fair, now get out.”

Spike could only sigh and do as he was told.

MEANWHILE,
DEEP UNDER PONY ISLAND™,
LESOMBRA’S GHOST SHIP RESTS ON ITS DOCK IN A RIVER OF LAVA

Cue: LeSombra's Theme

To say that LeSombra was a bad guy was quite the understatement. If you asked his mother, of all people, what she thought about her son, her words would not be fit for reproduction in any format. And she loved him.

As it were, LeSombra had been, during his lifetime, the most ruthless, despicable, sadistic, horrible, evil, twisted, crazed, filthy, dishonourable, cheating, psychopathic, humourless, arrogant, aggressive, boastful, cruel, cunning, dishonest, selfish, vengeful, and self-indulgent unicorn to grace the face of the Earth. Dying had only made it worse.

Now that he didn’t have to take care of earthly concerns such as eating, bathing, sleeping or breathing, LeSombra was free to sail to his heart’s content. And nothing made his heart more content than attacking an island, stealing everything that wasn’t bolted to the ground, razing the city, killing all of its inhabitants and forcing them to become part of his crew of the damned. All in a day’s work.

And it had all paid off. LeSombra’s evil shadow was now cast over the Caribbean and no one, be it pirate or civilian, dared sail their vessels for fear of losing it, and their lives, to the ghost pirate and his armies. He had everything he had ever wanted, and what he didn’t have he could easily take, all except one thing.

LeSombra’s ghost pirate ship was a sight to behold. Made from the finest ghost trees, held together by the most expensive ghost tar and the strongest ghost nails, and armed with the most powerful ghost cannons. It really was a testament to good craftghostship. Its owner had christened it: “The Crystal Slave” and its cargo hold was filled with the greatest treasures, pilfered from all corners of the Caribbean: gold, bits, statues, works of art, champagne, and diamonds. If it was valuable, LeSombra had surely stolen it.

The captain’s quarters were too filled with their share of amazing items, though of a much darker nature. Indeed, LeSombra had made it his mission to gather a great deal of voodoo artifacts and wonders, all of which served to grant him even greater powers.

For LeSombra, however, this still wasn't enough. Though he thirsted for blood, glory and treasure, none of it could sate him. He craved something else, but just as his maggot-ridden brain started to drift towards that subject, there was a loud knock on the door of his cabin.

The dreaded ghost lord grunted his permission to enter and the door creaked open, pushed by one of his crewmembers, his first mate Femurshy. Her skeletal hoof reached up to salute her commanding officer as soon as she was inside.

The captain growled his acknowledgement and Femurshy brought her hoof down, standing a few feet away from her commander. He wasn’t exactly kind to messengers when they brought news, be them good or bad (and they were usually good).

“Uhm… captain… I have… uhm… some news.” She announced timidly.

“Rawr... yargh…” LeSombra coughed and cleared his throat before spitting, a big ball of phlegm hitting the floorboards right under Femurshy’s hooves. The skeletal pegasus eeped and tried to hover away only to discover, again, that she didn’t have any feathers anymore.

“Yes?”

“Nevermind!” Femurshy squeaked, shrinking in on herself when the captain noticed her, "Nothing important! I’ll take care of it myself! No need to bother!” She turned to leave but stopped in her tracks when she heard the wooden floor creaking behind her as LeSombra stepped closer.

“Tell me the news right now or I’ll have you impaled on the main mast.” LeSombra’s eyes regarded her cowering form with cruel indifference and she felt herself crushed under his sight, barely managing to whisper out her message.

“Th-there’s… there’s a new pirate… no, I’m sorry, a new… uhm… wannabe pirate on…” She gulped, trying to find the courage to continue speaking. “O-on Mêlée Island.” Femurshy finished and closed her eyes, expecting the worst. After a couple of seconds, and not feeling the fires of hell burning her to ashes, she managed to open them again. LeSombra was standing there, staring ahead. “I-I’ll just… take care of him, sir, I mean if that’s okay?”

“No.” LeSombra’s voice boomed throughout the cramped cabin. “No, I’ll take care of him myself, I don’t want any amateurs ruining my plans.” He turned around, looking out his window, the sight of some prisoners being lowered into the lava lifting his spirits. “Ah, hear that?”

Femurshy peeked over his shoulder, she didn’t like what she saw, not one bit. “Wh-what, sir?”

“The screams of the damned, it makes one glad to be dead…” He turned to face her, showing his fangs in a terrifying smile. “… Doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir! Very glad, sir! Couldn’t be happier, sir!” She retreated lightning fast, putting some distance between her and her employer.

“I still think it was very convenient that your cutie mark happened to be a bunch of crossed bones.”

BACK ON MELEE ISLAND™

Spike found himself outside of the Scumm bar again, but this time he was finally getting started on his dream of becoming a pirate! All he had to do now was decide what trial he wanted to begin with. The pirate lords had said he had three of them: defeating the sword master, stealing an idol from the governor’s house and finding a buried treasure.

Right now, Spike didn’t have a sword or a shovel. On the other side, stealing the idol and then selling it would provide him with the much necessary funds to acquire the other two and fulfill his quest. Thus, he concluded, he would start by stealing the idol. With that objective in mind, he took the road towards town, the night eerily quiet save for the creaking ships.

The creaky wooden boards under the dragon's feet became solid cobblestones as he approached the town gates. Much like in the rest of the Caribbean, the capital of Mêlée Island was fortified, no doubt a protection against the same pirates that now filled its streets and wallowed in their unemployment. It came as no surprise that the gates weren’t guarded, the government’s logic dictated that with no pirates to catch, the police budget could very well be cut to save on spending.

A sign caught Spike’s attention, stuck as it was to the walls. It featured a mare, the dragon noticed, one of the most beautiful mares he had ever laid his eyes on. Even though the paper was yellow and faded he could make out her pure white coat and her amazing purple curls, her azure eyes pierced his own with a determined stare. Whoever this mare was, she was sure to be something. Spike blinked, momentarily breaking the spell the sign had put him under and took a closer look: bright red letters placed above the picture of the… goddess, as his mind put it… read the following: “Vote Rarity for Governor”.

“Rarity…” Spike sighed, her name was as divine as she was as, but he kept on reading, the message continued, though it used a much smaller and less conspicuous font. It said: “OR ELSE”. The dragon gulped, that was enough of local politics for now.

The drake pushed the thoughts of Rarity to the back of his mind and made his way into the city, taking the main road through town. The capital, much like the lookout, was built on a hill ,snaking upwards around its face. The street was lined with houses and shops of all kinds, though they were all currently closed and silent. Spike didn't know whether that was due to the pirates or the fact that it was night time.

Hearing some music ahead, our hero sped up his pace, trying to found the source. It didn’t take him long to navigate his way through the city and he soon found it. There, sitting on a corner, sat a group of ponies of low moral fiber (that is to say, pirates), one of them was playing a small instrument while a bunny danced to the tune. Opposite of them stood a fidgety looking pony wearing a coat, his eyes constantly darting around, as if he was expecting someone.

Deciding that the group looked more willing to give him the directions he needed, Spike walked up to them, putting up a friendly smile. “Hey there.”

The pirates were a strange bunch, two earth ponies and one unicorn, all mares. One had a pale yellow coat and a rose cutie mark, the second a plum coat and some fruit as her cutie mark and the third one, the unicorn, a light blue coat and an hourglass. All three regarded him with a cold stare but said nothing in return.

Spike tried again. “That’s a very talented rabbit you have there.”

After a short silence, the pony playing the instrument, the one with the rose cutie mark, stopped. “Yeah, it is.” The second pony started laughing, the third one shut her up with a well placed hoof to to head.

“Uhm… did you teach him that?” The dragon ventured.

“Yeah, bunnies are naturally smart.” The musician pointed out. Her third comrade added: “There’s a legend that says a bunch of them once crewed a ship and took it all the way to Pony Island and back.”

“Really?”

“Nah, I think that was rats.” Corrected the first pony.

“Oh… say, I was wondering if you could give me directions to the governor’s mansion, I’m kinda new to this island and well… you know…”

The mare with the fruit cutie mark started laughing again and pointed at a nearby door. Spike raised an eyebrow, inquisitively and she responded with a forceful nod, stopping only when the unicorn bopped her in the head again.

“Right…well, thanks then, see you later.” The dragon bid farewell and went to open the door, stepping inside. He found himself in a dark, small room. There was another door in front of him. He reached over and opened it, stepping outside. He was on the other end of the street, the musician pony waved at him.

The drake was speechless, he had seemingly travelled several feet just by opening a door. Doors weren’t supposed to work like that, you just opened them and stepped into the next room, not the other side of the city. He tried again, this time ending up on a balcony overlooking the bay. A third and a fourth try yielded the same results and made him appear all over town in the process.

Finally, after a fifth try, he stepped out into the same spot he started on. The three pirates laughed.

“How… what… I don’t even…” His mind struggled to comprehend what had just transpired until it finally gave up and shutdown, leaving the dragon to stare into nothingness for several minutes until the reboot finished.

The pirates washed away their tears from having laughed so hard. “Ah, just messing with you, governor’s mansion is over there, right on cliffside, can’t miss it.”

Spike opted, for the first time, to give up and remain silent as he sullenly made his way up the street. He walked with his eyes fixed on the ground, firm on the belief that if he just ignored everything, it would all go away. His concentration backfired when he crashed into someone and fell on his butt.

A harsh voice, full of indignation and anger, scolded him. “Watch where you are going, lizard!” Spike was ready to respond with his own insult when he looked up and found himself face to face with a really big unicorn, he hadn’t even flinched when the dragon collided with him. The pony in question had a flowing blonde mane, perfectly trimmed, and a white coat with a compass rose cutie mark. And he looked really pissed.

The drake grunted and picked himself up. “Sorry about that.”

“Of course you are, citizen, I could have you arrested for assaulting an officer of the law!”

Spike was confused, he wasn’t aware of the fact that there was a law in the Caribbean, or that it had officers that enforced it. “The what?”

“Of course a good for nothing pirate like you wouldn’t know about it.” The unicorn scoffed. “My name is Blueblood, Prince Blueblood and I’m the Sheriff in Mêlée Island.”

“You're royalty? How did you end up as Sheriff?”

Blueblood growled. “No, I’m not royalty!”

“Then what gives with your name?”

The white unicorn was now red with fury. “MY PARENTS HAD HIGH EXPECTATIONS, ALL RIGHT?”

“Okay, okay, calm down, I’m sorry.” Spike tried to defuse the situation.

“I’ve had it with you pirates infesting my island, if it were up to me I’d have you all hung.” The unicorn informed Spike. “You are just lucky the Governor doesn’t allow me to run this place and now get out of my face, coal-head, if I ever see you again then you are going straight to jail.”

“Coal-head?”

“Yes, because dragons breathe fire and coal is a very com- Oh forget it and get out of my way!” Blueblood bellowed. Spike could only shrug and step to the side as the furious sheriff stomped past him and went around the corner.

"Huh!" Spike grumbled as soon as Blueblood was out of earshot, "Wonder what's bugging him?” Still, the dragon reminded himself, he had a job to do and being a pirate (or rather, a wannabe pirate) he couldn’t allow himself to be slowed down by the sheriff of all ponies.

The cast iron gates that led to the Governor’s Mansion were, suspiciously enough, open and unguarded. Spike regarded the situation, either the place had been looted and then emptied, or no one dared enter, no matter the gates.

Then again, he was aiming to be the greatest pirate that ever lived, and all the greatest pirates that ever lived were known for being daring, dashing rogues that laughed in the face of danger and spit on the face of death. What Spike didn’t know was that most of the greatest pirates who had ever lived were dead, killed in easily avoidable situations that more prudent individuals would have easily survived.

Our draconic hero made up his mind and strolled ever onwards, the fire of determination burning strong in his eyes.