The King in Ruby
By Silvertie
The rule of Harrow, King of Rubies, draws to a close.
Celestia put the large, still-warm scroll and it’s single, oversized sentence down on the table, as the messenger bowed and made his departure from the royal dining room.
“What is it, Celly?” Luna asked from her seat opposite Celestia, pausing mid-dinner.
“Something we’ve known would happen sooner or later,” Celestia muttered, pushing what remained of her breakfast aside. “It’s Harrow.”
Luna’s face contorted. “I see.”
Celestia stood up and took a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”
Luna shook her head slightly. “No, I should stay and continue helping Twilight settle in. Harrow was always... I barely know him, and I don’t think I left the best impression last we met.”
“He will miss you.”
“I think it’s always been you and Harrow,” Luna shook her head.
“Very well,” Celestia nodded, and made her way to the window, looking out over Equestria, towards the southeast. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”
“Will you be taking the chariot?” Luna asked.
“To the Argenite Reaches?” Celestia asked, amused, as she opened the window. “No, I think time is of the essence, and bless the Guard’s collective heart, but they would take the better part of two days to get there.” A bracing breeze swept into the room, and Celestia’s horn began to glow with a golden light as motes of energy swirled around her, glimmering and pulsing. “Besides,” Celestia added, “it’s a personal trip.”
Luna nodded. “Give my regards to Harrow,” she said.
“Will do.”
Celestia closed her eyes, and with a flash of light, she vanished. Luna watched as an arc of sunlight streaked through the skies of Equestria, until it vanished into nothingness in the distance.
Luna looked down at her meal, and absent-mindedly used her magic to pick up a bean, looking at it thoughtfully.
======
Far beyond Equestria’s borders, there lay a vast range of mountains. Big, and small, they covered the land without pause for thousands of miles, each one host to it’s own little ecosystem in itself.
Here, the weather was not controlled by pegasi, and Celestia found the change in atmosphere to be to her taste. The frosty air had that sort of snap to it that sadly, none save for her sister, could ever truly replicate.
As Celestia streaked through the sky, sunlight made corporeal, she saw her destination rapidly approach; the tallest mountain in the land, surrounded by a crown of other mountains that tried to rival it for size, and failed. That didn’t make them any less formidable, though, and Celestia had mixed memories about having to hoof it over the accursed things, at double-time. But that was long ago. Commoners walked.
Gods flew. Celestia quickly passed the troublesome peaks, and aimed for a vast opening in the side of the tallest mountain, from which streams of smoke slowly trickled out. Curled around the entrance to the cave, what looked like two titanic, near-identical decorative engravings of winged dragons betrayed their true nature, looking up and emitting smoke, clutching their house-crushingly huge spears tighter as the beam of light didn’t slow, coming to rest on the mountainside ledge.
The flare of light dimmed, and they beheld a white, horned pegasus, bearing golden regalia and an ethereal mane that flowed in an unfelt breeze. Lesser creatures would have recognized who she was, and tripped over themselves to bow to the Regent of the Sun.
The dragon sentries knew exactly who she was, but they did not care. Long-lived creatures got instant respect and status elsewhere. Here, in a society of creatures who regularly lived to be half a millenium old at least, she got leniency should she forget her place.
Celestia looked at the two sentries, and after a moment’s thought, bowed her head to one of them, deeply. “I would have an audience with the Ruby King,” she said, not looking up.
“You are aware that it is custom to bow to the eldest dragon in any group when seeking approval, then?” asked the one she hadn’t bowed to, with a voice that practically felt like a crumbling castle. This close, you could see the diamond-hard scales that covered his entire body for what they really were, the fletched-grey pattern unable to conceal such a ast beast.
“It would be remiss if I did not,” Celestia replied, still not looking up.
“Why do you bow to my brother, then?” the dragon challenged, taking a deep breath. It was hard to tell, but of the two... he was the bigger dragon. Not by much, but enough to make the difference between correct protocol and a draconic faux pas.
There was a tense moment, and the only things that moved were Celestia’s mane and the plumes of smoke seeping out of the stone dragon’s nostrils, as they awaited Celestia’s response.
“Because he is the eldest,” Celestia answered firmly and without hesitation.
The stony dragons just looked back at her, then and each other. Then they rumbled with laughter, as one, both putting up their spears and smiling toothy grins. “Very good,” The dragon Celestia bowed to rumbled. “Rise, Celestia of Equestria. You may pass.”
“You have a keen eye,” the youngest murmured. “Only one other has ever deliberately and correctly identified my older brother on first meeting.”
Celestia rose from her bow, smiling. “And may I ask who the other was?”
“King Harrow,” the eldest said. “I believe he is waiting for you in the throne chamber.”
“Thank you,” Celestia bowed again, a smaller nod of gratitude, to both of them. “May your flames never falter.”
“May your hoard never grow small,” the smallest responded.
Celestia stepped across the threshold of the cavern entrance, and with a clip-clop of gold-shod hooves that receded into the darkness, vanished.
The youngest laughed once, a bark of laughter, and settled back into his position, sparing his brother one last look.
“I like her.”
======
The halls of the Ruby King’s home were vast, the stone floor polished to a sheen by millennia of use, and lit with eternally burning torches of promethean flame. Celestia took the time to regard the walls of the cavern, looking to carvings to tell her of recent news in the kingdom. Recent being a relative term, among beings that watched days tick past like her little ponies watched seconds.
The carvings depicted a great many things; war was fairly prominent, mostly comprised of conflicts between the dragons of the Argenite Reaches and rival dragon clans; the gems used to depict the rival leaders varied: emerald, sapphire, diamond. And always, a single, brilliant ruby stood against them. In other carvings, diplomatic achievements and natural disaster was overcome by the work of dragons. And as in the war carvings, the ruby was present, always at the forefront of each carving.
Celestia looked back, and the light of the torches glimmered off a constant stream of rubies, each one set in a momentous event in the history of the Reaches. And she knew that if she looked back far enough, there would be a carving with a vast ruby and a small lump of moonstone, and further back, two rubies of vastly different size, and one lump of sunstone.
She kept walking on, unimpeded by things such as doors -- when you were in the heart of the Ruby King’s home, there were no doors, because either nothing was off-limits to you, or you were talented enough that doors were not an obstacle to you.
And so she made her way into the largest chamber of all; large enough for sixteen of the largest dragons to stand abreast, and with enough perches on the walls for at least a hundred dragons of all sizes, all culminating in a roof that was taller than any she’d passed through yet; the ceiling of rubies was lit from within by fire, with carefully-crafted rivulets of magma flowing from the roof, down to pools in the ground. The walls were craggy stone, with a rather suspect pile of what looked like magma against the far wall.
“Hail, Harrow, King of Rubies,” she said loudly. “Celestia of Equestria begs admission to your throne room.”
There was a loud snort, and the pile of “magma” shifted as two green eyes revealed themselves, two pinpricks of light in the gargantuan, fire-red scaled face. Draconic bone creaked audibly as a yawn of brimstone filled the air, and a serpentine tongue flicked out, tasting the air. A claw ran itself back along the dragon’s head, crossing a patch of polished scales on the top of the head before just touching the spines that still remained and moving away.
“Celestia,” Harrow rumbled. “You’re here early.”
“I flew,” she replied, simply.
“Even so...” Harrow yawned again, and an arm bigger than Celestia herself stretched languidly. “I must have dozed off.”
“You did indeed,” Celestia agreed.
“Well, don’t stand around on ceremony,” Harrow waved a massive claw, and smiled.. “What was it you once said to me? ‘Friends don’t let friends stand on ceremony’? It’s been too long to stand around and observe formality!”
Celestia chuckled, stepping forward into the dragon’s den. “I know how you are. But I am also mindful of what happens when you surprise a dragon, and forgive me if I thought it best to not surprise a sleeping dragon.”
Harrow’s cheerful face fell a little. “I hope dear Luna doesn’t hold that against me still. Is that why she did not come with you?”
“On the contrary,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “She still blames herself for much of what she did. She sends her regards, but perhaps, for her, it wasn’t quite long enough.”
“That is a shame,” Harrow murmured, before devolving into a fearsome, hacking cough that sent gouts of red flame everywhere involuntarily.
Celestia ignored the flames, carefully warding them away from her as she looked around the chamber, taking in familiar sights. The perch that had been broken in Harrow’s momentary fight with Nightmare Moon was long-since fixed, with masterful stonework that barely showed it had ever been broken. And the gouges that had been in the floor since Celestia’s first visit to the Reaches were still there, albeit smoothed over the years.
The flames died down and Harrow cleared his throat sheepishly. “Sorry, Celestia. Flaming everywhere like I’m barely five hooves tall again...”
Celestia just looked at Harrow with concern. “Nothing to be sorry about. I hear those symptoms. How long?”
“Not long,” the dragon king said quietly. “One way or another, my rule will come to an end by the year’s close.”
Celestia hissed. “Just a year? How long were you planning to keep this from me?”
“You were busy,” Harrow dismissed. “Embroiled in the affairs of your little ponies, who am I to trouble you with the health problems of one old dragon?”
“For a friend,” Celestia said, walking forward and resting a hoof on Harrow’s leg, “I always have time.”
Harrow looked down, and smiled, shaking his head. “In any case, it’s probably time I stepped down, let someone with bit more youth on them take the throne before I ruin everything.”
“Ruin everything...” Celestia snorted in a very un-princess-like manner. “Harrow, you’ve been ruling the Reaches for two thousand years, and the Ruby Clan has never been stronger. I think you’ll have to do a little worse if you want to ruin everything.”
“Two thousand years...” Harrow breathed. “Where does the time go?”
“And look at you,” Celestia said, taking wing so she could make eye contact with Harrow. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even bigger than the last time I saw you. Certainly a far cry from the little dragon who looked up to me and took on a tyrant with no help from myself or anyone else.”
Harrow laughed. “That’s true. I don’t think I ever saw myself like this, though.”
“King of Rubies? Or being the size of a large castle?”
“Both.”
======
The clip-clop of hooves on stone was drowned out by the faint sounds of murmuring from up ahead, and punctuated by the faint pad of scaled feet on the stone.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” a slender, smaller white alicorn asked, her pink mane done up in a ponytail to match her travel-stained barding and saddlebags. “I could get the thaumarite crystal another way, I’m sure there’s another dragon out there willing to part with one.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Celestia,” a gangly, bipedal, wingless dragon of rich red and yellow countered, looking up at the alicorn, his golden spines arching over his forehead in a wicked curve that was rather jaunty, to match the youthful glint in his green eyes. “Only a dragon out of his mind would let one of the rarest gems in existence go from his hoard without some leverage. And I owe you a life debt -- I’m going to get you that thaumarite, one way or another, even if it kills me.”
“If you say so, Harrow.” Celestia pursed her lips. “I still don’t want you to do this.”
“I’m sure my uncle will acquiesce somehow,” Harrow reassured. “This is for the good of the world. You need thaumarite for that... what did you call it? The Pieces of Cooperation?”
“The Elements of Harmony.”
“Right, the Elements of Harmony setup. You need the Elements so you can stop the god of Chaos that’s turning Equestria upside-down. Thus, we need to give you the thaumarite. If the Ruby King didn’t, well, he’d be as bad as Discord. I mean, his track record isn’t exactly stellar, but...”
Celestia pursed her lips as she thought about the undersized dragons she’d seen on her journey through the Reaches. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
The unusual duo, teenage dragon and alicorn, walked around the corner, and into a wall of sound. The Throne Chamber of the Ruby Clan was vast, even more so to such small creatures as Celestia and Harrow. The walls were lined with dozens of nobledragons, each one gossipping and laughing amongst themselves. The roof was hazy beyond a roof of smoke, and the walls were craggy stone, with a rather suspect pile of what looked like magma against the far wall. A pile of magma that glared at the two smaller beings, with a definite claw resting on the hilt of a tall blade, the point sunk firmly into the stone where it had clearly rested at the Ruby King’s right claw for years.
Celestia quietly hoped that the red substance encrusting the blade wasn’t what she thought it was.
“Hail, Scrallax, King of Rubies,” Harrow said loudly. “Prince Harrow of the Ruby Clan and Celestia of Equestria beg admission to your throne room.”
“Ah, Harrow, you may enter,” Scrallax said with an air of disdain, and a voice that sounded like a brick in a dishwasher. “I see you’ve brought... a pony in our midst. How nice of you to bring an offering. It doesn’t look like it’d last more than two bites, but the thought is appreciated.”
“I’m not food!” Celestia protested hotly.
“I’m sorry,” Scrallax said without an ounce of genuine remorse, looking down on the alicorn. “I just can’t think why my nephew would bring such a worthless creature before me.”
Celestia grit her teeth and began to step forward, and stopped when she felt a claw on her chest.
“Princess Celestia comes before us to ask for our aid,” Harrow stated. “She requires thaumarite gems to complete a spellcasting array to seal away a god of chaos and disorder -- a gem like the one you have in your hoard.”
The chamber erupted into agitated screeching and catcalls from the ledges at the request. The King of Rubies didn’t so much as spit disgust as he attempted to kill Celestia with invisible beams of the stuff from his eyes.
“And you think the King’s hoard is just to be taken from for every sob-story that reaches our ears?” Scrallax said, quietly. The galleries fell silent almost instantly.
“It’s not just for her,” Harrow argued. “It’s for the whole world. Discord is a serious threat. I would give the whole hoard if it would help stop him.”
“A serious threat to a lesser creature, perhaps,” Scrallax snorted. “And the hoard is not yours to give, in any case. The Ruby Clan can deal with a little chaos.”
“Do not underestimate him,” Celestia spoke up, glaring. “To him, the world is a sandbox for him to shape at his whim. As you tower over shorter-lived creatures, he towers over you.”
“Who are you to tell me who is greater than who?!” Scrallax bellowed, his temper snapping as he stood up properly, towering over the prince and princess by six times their combined height. “You are just a tiny, little, insignificant little pony princess. If Discord can lay waste to your little kingdom, then that’s your fault. You should be stronger!”
Celestia stood her ground, glaring back. “I can only stand against Discord as long as my people can stand against him. Without them, I’m nothing.”
“Then you should find more durable people,” growled Scrallax. “Get out of my throne room, and never return to my lands.”
“Perhaps you should pay a little more attention to your own people, King of Rubies,” Celestia said. “I saw the size of the average dragon -- so stunted, it’s a wonder the Sapphire Lord hasn’t succeeded in taking the Reaches for his own.”
“My people are none of your concern,” Scrallax growled. “Leave.”
“But they are my concern,” Harrow said, stepping forward. “And I have no intention of letting my subjects wither away as they pay exorbitant tithes to the King for no good reason. While you swell with greed, your common folk wither in poverty with barely more than piles of detrius to their hoards.”
“Did I ask for your opinion, whelp?” Scrallax growled. “I’m the King of Rubies here, not you. That means I decide what is best for the Ruby Clan, and I think I’m doing a fine job of it!” Scrallax gestured to the large dragons clustered around on the ledges. “Is that not true?”
The galleries roared their approval, gouts of flame and cheers for the king raining down. Scrallax smiled, and looked back at Harrow.
“See?” Scrallax said smugly.
“They cheer because you keep their hoards fat,” Harrow growled. “The rich are staying rich, while the common dragon is growing ever poorer. You’re killing the Ruby Clan slowly, Scrallax; the only thing you’ll be king of, is ruination. You’re not half the King my father was.”
“Well, your father isn’t King anymore, is he, now?” Scrallax reached out with a talon, and jabbed Harrow in the chest, knocking the smaller dragon onto his tail to laughter from the balconies. “I am King, and my word is law.”
“Perhaps that needs to change,” Harrow muttered, getting up carefully.
The cavern fell silent, and Scrallax just blinked in surprise, before looking down at the smaller dragon.
“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Scrallax chuckled humorlessly. “Look at you. You’re barely out of diapers.” Scrallax turned away and waved a claw dismissively as he walked back to his throne. “Come back in a couple of decades when your greed’s kicked in proper.”
“If I wait a couple of decades, there won’t be anyone left to fight for,” Harrow growled. “I can’t let you drag the Ruby Clan to their doom.”
Scrallax turned, eyes narrowed as he grabbed his sword and with a yank, ripped it out of the ground. “So you’re decided, then?”
“Harrow, no!” Celestia whispered hastily. “This isn’t worth your life. I’ll find another Thaumarite gem.”
“It’s not just for you,” Harrow said. “It’s for the Ruby Clan as a whole. Scrallax’s hoard is vaster than any Ruby King’s before him, and it’s come at the cost of every non-noble hoard in the Reaches. If I don’t stop him, no dragon will.”
“Well?” Scrallax growled. “Make yourself ready, unless you intend to die like an animal.”
“At least let me fight alongside you,” Celestia hissed.
“This is a dragon’s duel, Celestia,” Harrow said. “Even Scrallax, despicable as he is, honors the traditions of the duel. Two dragons, their weapons of choice, and no outside help.” Harrow stepped away from Celestia and squared his shoulders, before bellowing to the gallery. “I need a weapon!”
The dragons laughed at the young prince’s lack of preparation, but Harrow didn’t bow or show shame. Eventually, one dragon, still laughing, kicked a dagger off the ledge to land at Harrow’s feet. It was a dagger, but one designed for a fully-grown dragon. To Harrow, it was more like a bastard sword.
Scrallax didn’t waste time. The moment Harrow took hold of the weapon, he’d started moving, and even as Harrow brought the weapon to bear against his larger opponent, he swung his sword.
Sparks flew and Harrow flew backwards a distance, landing on the ground with a whump. Scrallax’s swing continued on for a distance before he brought his blade under control, though, unused to hitting targets with such little resistance.
Harrow, for his part, was already bruised in the tail, and his bastard-sword-dagger had quite a notch in it from where he’d blocked the strike just in time. Harrow steeled himself, and charged, sezing the opportunity to strike while Scrallax brought his sword back under control.
The smaller red dragon closed the distance in seconds, and leaping high, attempted to strike at Scrallax’s softer underbelly. Blade met underscale, and the gallery laughed as the dagger skittered off the surface harmlessly. Harrow grunted in surprise at the result, and Scrallax just responded with a simple flick of his leg.
This time, Harrow caught the hit directly, and he flew further than before, landing on the ground hard and barely holding onto his weapon, for all the good it did him.
“Harrow!” Celestia called out.
“‘m fine!” Harrow dismissed. “I’m okay!”
Celestia bit her lip anxiously. Harrow was sweet, but he was a fool, through and through. It was a suicidal match-up, there was no way he could win with that tiny little dagger, and there was no way she could help without breaking the rules of the duel.
Or was there?
Harrow staggered upright once more, using the hilt of the dagger as a leaning post. Scrallax stepped towards him, ground shaking with every step, and smiled.
“So far out of your depth. Your father would be disappointed, if he didn’t have the same habit of acting so recklessly.”
“I won’t yield,” Harrow spat, readying his blade.
“He was stubborn like you, too,” Scrallax muttered. “Even when he had a dagger through his heart, he still struggled on.”
Harrow faltered. “Dagger? You said he was beheaded by the Emerald King in one slice, nothing about a dagger.”
“Whoops,” Scrallax smiled. “Slip of the tongue, there.”
Harrow put the pieces together with alarming speed. “You killed your own brother, and stabbed him in the back... just to become King?”
“What can I say?” Scrallax shrugged. “I’m a dragon of ambition, and Wrack was in the way.”
Scrallax swung his blade harder and faster this time, and Harrow cried out as he barely blocked the hit once more. There was a shearing of steel, and Harrow landed on the ground yet again, what was left of the dagger landing next to him on the stone. Scrallax overswung again, but this time, he seemed to be taking delight in it, showing off.
He didn’t notice Celestia. None of the dragons did, really, despite her horn glowing brighter than it had ever glowed before.
“Harrow!” Celestia cried out, opening her eyes and unleashing a bolt of sunlight at the smaller dragon. Harrow brought up a claw to block the beam reflexively, and rather than pain, he felt a radiant warmth in his hand, and a reassuring weight.
He opened his eyes and lowered his claw, mouth opening in wonder at the weapon that he clutched. It was a spear, just the right size for him, and it glowed like the sun itself; which was appropriate, because that’s exactly what it was, a spear made of sunlight made corporeal.
Harrow didn’t question the new weapon, merely looking at Celestia, who nodded. Harrow turned his attention to Scrallax, who was only just starting to turn around, and hefted the spear.
“Hoard turn to stone,” he snarled, and mustering all his strength and anger, threw it.
The spear cut a linear path through the air, crossing the width of the room in a heartbeat. Scrallax barely registered anything had been thrown before something sharp and hot easily passed straight through his chest. Another heartbeat passed, and Scrallax found himself short of breath, coughing once as he sunk to his knees. Another heartbeat, and the tyrant king collapsed further still, resting on one elbow, and abandoning his sword as he felt his chest.
There was a sizable dent in his scales where he’d been hit, right above his heart. The blackened wound was small, but as Scrallax coughed and red flecked the stone, he realized it had been enough. There was a padding sound, and he looked to see Harrow, standing there with the broken shard that was all that remained of his dagger.
“You... cheated,” Scrallax grunted. “The princess helped.”
“That makes us even, then,” Harrow growled. “This is for my father.”
Harrow pulled back the dagger, and without hesitating, stabbed. This time, the slender blade found a way between the scales easily, and sank in to the hilt, piercing Scrallax’s heart once more.
There was a welling of blood as Scrallax’s heart beat one last time, and finally failed, the light leaving the larger dragon’s eyes, a death-curse dying on his lips with him. Harrow stepped away from the corpse, and held up a claw. With a flash of light, the spear lept from it’s place in the wall, back to the small dragon’s grip.
“As the victor,” he declared, “I claim all that once belonged to Skrallax, King of Rubies. Any objections?”
The dragons on the ledges above looked at the fallen Srkallax, and Harrow with a clawful of sunlight, and shook their heads anxiously.
“That’s what I thought,” said Harrow, King of Rubies.
======
Harrow sighed as he sat in the middle of the throne, almost comically undersized for the seat.
“This seat is too big,” he complained. “I look ridiculous.”
“I’m sure you’ll grow into it,” Celestia smiled. “King Harrow.”
“Oh, egg. Don’t call me that,” Harrow grumbled. “Sounds weird coming from you.”
Celestia smirked. “As you wish, Harrow Ruby.”
“Don’t make me smite you with my sunspear,” Harrow said warningly, smiling briefly before looking at the weapon that had jumped unbidden to his claw, and sighing. “I could have done it on my own, you know.”
“You needed a weapon,” Celestia shrugged. “I just gave you one that’s as strong as you are.” Harrow held the spear out and Celestia shook her head. “Keep it, consider it a commemoration of what will hopefully be brighter days for the Ruby Clan.”
Harrow put the spear down, and shook his claw. The spear flickered out of existence, and reappeared in his claw. “This is going to be annoying until I get the hang of it.”
“My King!” a dragon called out from the main doors, his long, serpentine neck craning around the edge. “We found it!”
“Excellent!” Harrow nodded. “Bring it here, and begin the hoard distribution. Make sure every dragon gets a fair dividend, stop at nothing.”
The large dragon nodded, and with a bobbing motion, the head snaked around into the chamber for a good few seconds before the body actually caught up, leathery wings bunched up tight. The head snaked over to Harrow, and presented a relatively tiny chest, that Harrow was able to pick up with one claw. An oversized jewelry box.
The long-necked dragon gave a short bow, and carefully backed out of the room. Harrow turned the box around, and opened it carefully, lifting what lay within out of the box.
“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting the great-dragon-sized ring out of the box, and turning it around so Celestia could see the crystal set at the end, “It’s a gem set in a ring, but hopefully that won’t be too much of an obstacle.”
“It’s fine,” Celestia reassured.
“Well,” Harrow smiled. “I owe you a life debt still, thanks to the sunspear, but hopefully this ring will go towards making us even.”
Harrow held out the ring, and Celestia touched it with her hooves. As they did, the gem set in the ring began to glow with a brilliant, red light, matched only by the muted purple and orange glow coming from Celestia’s saddlebags.
Harrow’s eyes went wide as the red glow engulfed the ring, and he let it go in surprise, as did Celestia. The ring did not fall, hovering there in a glow of magical light as it shifted and flowed.
The glow faded, and Celestia reached out to take what remained; the gold ring was entirely gone, replaced with an ornate, gold neckpiece suitable for a pony. And at the centerpoint, a shining, red gem sat, a two-dimensional depiction of a brilliant-cut ruby.
“I didn’t expect that,” Harrow admitted.
Celestia smiled. “Harmony has it’s ways. All it needed was a lump of thaumarite and someone suitably loyal...”
“I’d call it stubborn,” Harrow grumped, smiling nonetheless.
Celestia chuckled. “Harrow, you’ve helped far more than anyone would expect. You risked your life to fight for the thaumarite and your clan’s well-being, and now you give me a completed Element of Harmony. I think you’ve well over-paid your life-debt. I may be indebted to you now, actually.”
“Send a couple of wagonloads of gems my way at Hearthswarming eve,” Harrow grinned. “And I think I can call it even.”
======
“Actually, no, it’s the balding,” Harrow grunted, running a claw across the top of his head. “I miss my spines.”
“Maybe if you stopped doing that,” Celestia fussed, “your spines might grow back.”
“Ha.” Harrow snorted. “And break the habit of six centuries?”
Celestia regarded the bald. “I honestly liked your spinestyle back in 607. Very dashing, for a dragon.”
Harrow grunted. “I like how we can just talk about events over a millenia ago like it was last decade. I don’t get that, even among my own people.”
“That’s just how the hoard works,” Celestia muttered. “The bigger the hoard, the bigger the dragon and the longer they live. And your hoard is the biggest, most valuable of all...”
Harrow nodded. “And once more, you’re to blame for that. My people are my hoard, and we’ve done well for ourselves over the years. I can only hope that my successor will do right by the Ruby Clan. Speaking of which.”
Harrow held out a claw, and with a tiny little flash of light, a familiar object landed in it, dwarfed by the size of the dragon. He held it out to Celestia.
“Take it,” Harrow said. “I hear there’s a little dragon in Equestria who’s best friends with a princess -- I believe this would suit him better than anyone in the Reaches.”
Celestia nodded, and took the sunspear back. It didn’t look like it had aged a day since she’d cast it, despite how it bled solar power everywhere, making it unwieldable by anyone without resistance to heat. It flashed out of sight, and Celestia relaxed.
Harrow sat back. “I wonder what this generation will have to save the world from this time. If Discord’s under heel...”
“I wonder too, but I’m not worried.” Celestia smiled. “The Elements of Harmony still stand strong, I’m confident Twilight can handle anything, as long as her friends stand with her.”
The sound of hooves on stone rang through the air, and Harrow perked up, looking at the entrance, as did Celestia.
“I thought you said she wasn’t coming,” Harrow said quietly.
“I guess she changed her mind,” Celestia murmured.
Around the corner stepped a midnight-blue alicorn, her starfield mane drifting just as Celestia’s did.
“King Harrow.”
“Princess Luna.”
