Reaching for the Sky

Somewhere in Equestria, harmony does not rule. It is rare and often well-hidden, but that doesn't make the evils less real. So it was that in the deepest crevice in a forgotten part of the ruins of the Ancient Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, a dragon ruled. He had been there a few years now and his twisted nature was such that he liked to watch things decompose and fall to ruin. So he'd brought his hoard with him, every last rotten bit of it. Sure, there was gold and silver as well, after all, what dragon can resist its glitter?

Truth is, this dragon had grown old and bored, a rare and dangerous combination. He'd thought to play with the most innocent victims he could find and situate himself in an accessible location, and sure enough, within just a few years, several fools and foals had ventured deep enough to be added to his hoard, and most delightful of all was the fact that he got to keep one of them, so perfectly broken that he could not bare to let her die and decompose. So he kept her in an invisible cage, her striking beauty blocked from the rest of the world. So she was allowed to stand there, once a famous singer adored by her audience, now cloaked in invisibility and rendered mute, her ridiculous 'Cutie Mark' violated by his careful claw and she could only watch and scream silently without vocal cords, unseen and unheard by the ponies that came to investigate.

She'd lost track of time. Somehow the force field even sustained her healthy luster and prevented her from starving or thirsting or even needing to breathe. So there she sat, watching the dragon's body grow bloated and fat with contentment as he watched a steady stream of would-be champions come before him. Always he would cloak himself invisible ahead of time and always he would taunt them, speaking into their minds. Some simply snapped under the pressure, robbed of their minds before he could even lay a claw on them. The brave ones fought, futilely. The smart ones tried to turn tail. They never made it far. The last one had been both brave and smart, and to the dragon's endless joy it had even forced a reaction from his little mare doll. She'd looked so hopeful, but in the end he too, died. He was left to limp away, bleeding to death within minutes. A pity he got that far. The dragon's bloated body could no longer fit through the caves. He'd have to destroy everything to get out, but then in the end that would be fun, too.

Then came along the most curious creature. Was it a pony? A minotaur? A dragonkin, even? No, none of those, though it sure liked to borrow parts from all the races, a false chimera. How droll...

But then it had spoken. My my! So few creatures dared talk back and this one actually had the right of it, wandering blindly in the right direction. Best he play his cards now before the biped stumple upon his invisible body by chance, ruining his surprise. He loved the big reveal. First, the mare, then himself and they always broke down.

But then the strange creature had plucked his eyeballs from his skull, from afar, too! Not fair! Not fair! Even so, his next leap was predictable. One does not live to see a millenia of age without learning to trust in other senses. With his hearing and sensitive scales, he felt the tremors of a great, powerful leap. A pity, once he'd released the gout of flame he couldn't really control the direction and the creature jumped so far! Right over the flame that had cooked in his guts for the last three months. He'd never be able to breathe another gout of flame in time, at least not hot enough to burn this sagely creature of foul, cheating, eye-plucking magics from a distance. Anyway, where was he? Oh, right, the creature was leaping over his flame, raise the right front paw and- AGONY!

By tartarus, his claw! His lovely claw, the very same that marred his pretty doll! All gone! The creature was already leaping again!

In a rage, he swung his entire bloated body round and his fat tail swung in an arc so wide that even the greatest leap could not carry the strange creature far enough, fast enough. Surely enough, he felt a smattering against his scaled tail and he began to settle, wondering how he would enjoy his doll without eyes. How indeed?

Then he'd heard the cry, a cry that struck fear into all dragons. It was ironic, really. They did not fear the roars of other dragons, but a certain breed of creatures so tiny and short-lived were said to be excellent at what they did, so good in fact that through ancestral wisdom, the very blood of the dragons knew to chill when they heard this cry. Species did not matter so terribly much as intent.

Dragon Slayer...

And now he's gone and gotten himself killed, all because he wanted to show off his doll. Ah well, at least the creature looked decently broken that it might not live through the injuries. Hopefully it dies painfully and his little doll won't even have a voice to ask to know the name of the Dragon Slayer. That's good. Let their legacy die here, then...