Tears of an Empty Sky

by OnionPie

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Tragedy, Dark
Length: 7235

A dragon wanders into a land that banished him centuries ago. Never did he imagine he would return, but when the sun and moon failed to rise one fateful day, something compelled him to begin the journey home to the princess who shattered his heart.

A dragon wanders through a starless night, into a land that banished him centuries ago. Never did he imagine he would return to the world that cursed his very existence, but when the sun and moon failed to rise one fateful day, something compelled him to begin the long journey home to the princess who shattered his heart.

Published 2013-04-27 19:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-27 19:40:02 UTC

Home is where...

Mud splashed thick under the dragon’s feet as he lumbered through the starless night. Lightning cracked above, illuminating the desolate landscape in a flash of blue. The river at his side had swelled immensely, tugging pebbles great and small downstream against their will.

‘When did it start raining?’ he wondered when he finally noticed the water beating down on his muzzle.

The earth trembled with every step he took, bringing him closer to the lance of stone that towered over the valley. His weary eyes shifted to the once great city that rested by the mountain’s peak.

“His kind has no place here,” the goddess had spoken. The words still festered in his mind, turning determined strides more hesitant.

‘She’s gone now,’ the dragon told himself, ‘They both are.’

Neither sun nor moon had graced the sky since he began his journey, leaving it bleak and empty. It was as if a blanket had fallen over the sky to hide all the ugliness in the world, a world he hardly felt part of anymore.

“He is a creature of wrath, greed, and envy,” the dark sister’s voice rang through the ages.

The dragon shook his head, as if the sudden motion would expel the memories from his mind. ‘I’ve come too far to stop now.’

A grassy field opened up before him as the river twisted away from the looming mountain. Resting alone in the meadow, the shrouded figure of a rock appeared to draw his attention. It seemed to have grown smaller since he placed it there centuries ago to stand vigil over the land.

Rainwater streamed down the names etched into the stone’s surface, slowly eroding what little the elements hadn’t already withered away. His mind struggled to remember, but for all his effort, their faces remained little more than a faded blur in his memories. Seven they were, six they became. Six turned to three, and now it felt as though there was only one. ‘Not one,’ he reminded himself, ‘two.’

The dragon drew a deep breath, and exhaled a fountain of flames whose emerald light graced even the most distant mountains. He winced when he spread his wings, and with a powerful thrust of his hind legs, he leaped into the air, climbing higher and higher. The pain was almost blinding. Agony shot through his flesh with every stroke of his wings.

Another lance of dragonfire burst from his mouth to light his way. Below him, he spied the remains of an old, abandoned town reflecting his glow.

‘Home,’ thought the dragon, ‘how long has it been?’ Years passed like leaves in the autumn wind for dragons, and long ago he had learned to accept the lonely curse that came with immortality.

Friends, foes, and lovers all turned to dust in the wake of time as they always did. Yet somehow, when the sun failed to rise, it had felt different, like something had been robbed from the world before its time.

“Princess…” he had uttered under his breath, catching himself before he spoke her name.

The dragon looked to his left wing. It was growing numb, the sense of pain morphing into one of weakness. Halfway up the mountain, it crumpled together in exhaustion, and suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet him.

‘It’s no use,’ he thought, closing his eyes as he fell, ‘She probably doesn't even remember me anymore.’

The crowded throne room had muttered words of disgust when he was dragged into the marble hall, his feet shackled, and his muzzle chained shut. Everywhere he looked there were eyes glaring at him in contempt and disbelief. He was hardly the size of a grown pony back then, weak, young, and frightened.

The dragon had committed unspeakable crimes in the eyes of gods and mortals. He had tasted of forbidden fruit, so warm, so wet, and so living. He knew his guilt, and so did they, but when the world had turned against him, one had risen in his defense.

His last friend had stepped between him and the goddesses, shielding him, pleading with them to see his innocence.

Never before had he loved her as much as he did in that moment. But before the day was done, his love would turn to ashes in his mouth. For when the goddesses had heard enough, they had given the young princess a choice: the crown, or the dragon.

‘An easy choice,’ he reflected in hindsight. But in his moment of passion, he had cursed her name with all the hatred his broken heart could muster, vowing never to speak to her again.

‘Cast aside, abandoned.’ The cold wind slashed at his scales as he plummeted through the air. ‘Banished, forgotten.’ His weary eyes opened once more. All around the raindrops appeared to have frozen midair, falling synchronous alongside him.

He swung out his hands, letting his claws dig deep into the cliff, halting his descent. The dragon squinted at the rain beating down on his face as he hung by his foreleg. He was tired, so very tired.

‘It wasn’t her fault.’

With all the strength still left in him, he smashed another hand into the rock wall to support his weight. Cold water streamed between his claws, sending shivers throughout his body. Swinging hand over hand, he climbed, all the while his muscles aching with strain, begging him to stop.

‘She only did what her duty demanded of her,’ he told himself as he ascended. The incline above grew less steep, and at the end of what felt like an eternity, he threw his body over the ledge.

Gravity reached up to pull on his belly once more, and his exhausted body collapsed onto the ground. The dragon’s gasps for air sounded more like growling than panting, but before long, he steadied his breathing, and rose to his feet.

He craned his neck, and exhaled living flames that chased the darkness away. His green light washed over the brick roads ahead, intruding into the broken dwellings of the Lower District.

Bones and rubble littered the forsaken streets.

The dragon weakened the stream of flames to a mere shine through his pointed teeth. ‘I shouldn't disturb the dead.’ Cautiously, he began the journey through the ghost city, taking great care not to step on any of the remains scattered along the street.

Aside from the sound of the rainfall, the city was silent, as if its inhabitants were simply sleeping away a harsh night to awake in the morning. The dragon’s eyes turned to the eastern horizon, where the sun had risen since the first Alicorns walked the land. ‘It will rise again.’ His strides hastened. ‘It must.’

The great gate of the High District met the dragon halfway to the castle. Closed and barred, the hard oak had survived a lot of punishment. The sick and huddled masses of the Lower District seemed to have tried to force their way through, but to no avail. Skeletons small and smaller lay scattered across the ground, only a wall away from what they must have perceived as safety.

The dragon took pity on them as he placed a hand on the gate. The thought of living ponies on the other side of the fragile wall tickled at his mind. If only he were to push through, maybe, just maybe...

He pushed. The rusty hinges screamed in protest, but submitted to his strength in the end. His heartbeat picked up as he clung to his childish wish.

Death and ashes greeted him.

Once a thriving hub of wealth and culture, the High District was now little more than a deserted ruin. Remains of great bonfires lay in heaps alongside the street, and a fine layer of ashes covered the cracked road.

‘Great and small, the black plague comes for us all,’ the dragon recited in his mind. The rhyme was not entirely true, or so he hoped.

His legs began moving again, carrying him over the blackened avenue. He had little interest lingering amongst the privileged dead. It might have been their great grandparents who had demanded his banishment, but even so, he held little sympathy for them. ‘They’d have my head if they were alive to take it.’

Their land had no room for monsters.

Before him, the marble staircase leading up to the castle proper emerged out of the dark. Rainwater streamed down from the castle walls like tears on a cheek, and behind them, the great keep stood high and proud over the city, as it had for millennia.

Its tall spires rose like shadows out of the gloom, carrying lonely purple banners that danced lazily in the wind. The weeping stone was cracked and bruised from years of neglect, which had left gaping wounds in the otherwise pristine castle.

‘I don’t belong in this place,’ he thought bitterly as he halted by the steps. He turned his neck to look back the way he came, feeling an eerie sense of being watched. ‘Why would she want to see me again when even the dead want me gone?’

But as his resolve wavered, something stirred in the corner of his eye. He turned his attention back to the keep, where a glow seeped through a stained glass window. ‘The throne room,’ he realized.

One of his feet moved on his own to rest on the staircase. ‘What if I’m too late?’ Another foot placed itself ahead of the other, drawn to the shimmering glow that promised closure to so many of his pains.

He climbed. The weight of his clawed feet freed loose bricks, sending them tumbling down into the streets below to fill the air with echoes of stone on stone.

At the top of the steps, he found the drawbridge lowered, and the massive portcullis wide-open, allowing entrance to anyone seeking refuge. ‘She hasn't changed at all,’ he thought as he crawled under the raised spikes.

All around him, walls of stone reflected the emerald glow he carried in his mouth, revealing a courtyard littered with makeshift shelters that reeked of stale death. Even the royal banners had been torn down to raise tents for those who could not find shelter elsewhere.

His foot caught in a piece of cloth on the ground, and when he shook it free he noticed the withered remains of a pony underneath, cradling an even smaller creature.

‘I should have been here,’ he thought as he looked down upon he bones of a people he was once part of. ‘Until the bitter end I should have remained with them.’ He picked up the wet cloth, and laid it carefully over mother and foal.

His eyes turned to the far end of the courtyard, where an immense arched door was built into the wall. ‘If only she hadn’t been so selfish.’ His heart ached, and his stomach twisted in ire, but he moved on.

The entrance was slick with rainwater, and stank of wooden rot. He pushed the doors open, spreading his light into the hallway beyond. Paintings, sculptures, and long tapestries emerged out of the dark as he entered.

The artworks near the entrance were colorful and filled with life, depicting ponies living together in blissful harmony. But as he made his way far enough down the hallway for the sound of rainfall to fade behind him, the paintings grew darker, the sculptures more twisted, and the tapestries devoid of joy.

His heavy footsteps echoed deeper down the hallway, almost sounding like there was another large beast approaching him. His heartbeat hastened. He was close, dangerously close.

Another set of arched doors emerged out of the gloom ahead. The dragon slowed his pace before coming to a complete halt in front of the last barrier to the throne room. Slowly, he placed a clawed hand on the door, and let the flames in his mouth die down. Darkness surrounded him, and the only sound left in the world was that of his racing heart.

He held his breath, listening, not sure if he wished to hear any signs of life at all.

Silence.

It soon became clear that no sounds would seep through the door to greet him. ‘I’ve already come this far,’ he told himself, before carefully putting pressure on the doors, trying his best not to make a sound.

Candlelight danced at the far end of a crimson carpet that spanned the hall, displaying two great statues with a lonely throne between them. Books and alchemical equipment lay scattered around the base of the golden seat, and the dragon found himself to be alone in the murky hall, but for a single purple pony, lying lifeless atop her throne.

‘Princess…’

The dragon approached, emboldened by his invisibility in the dark end of the hall. His claws scraped against the floor, knocking over odd appliances as he inched his way forward. But in spite of noise, the pony did not stir.

He felt the light of a hundred candles tug away his black cloak. The Alicorn lay broken and alone atop a red cushion, her indigo mane an unkempt mess, her forelegs carrying cuts crusted with dried blood.

The dragon craned his neck forward, reaching out a claw to touch his old friend, but halfway there he stopped himself. ‘I’m too late.’ He clenched his claws into a fist. The rain drummed mournfully against the windows as he stared down at the creature he loved and hated so much.

Above him loomed the two statues.The dim candlelight revealed the familiar features of the sisters that came before. A growl seeped through his throat as he rose to his hind legs. ‘Cowards!’ he screamed inside, ‘Leaving everything upon her so you could die in peace.’

The dragon raised his fist to shatter the goddess of the sun, to send her ugly stone head tumbling to the floor. But as he was about to lash out in rage, a sound sailed through the air to soothe his mind. He froze.

It was a word.

—A half-forgotten name from a different life. He did not recognize it at first, but when realization hit him, a warmth he had not felt in centuries seeped down his spine. He looked down at the source, where two purple eyes gazed up at him through a tangled mane.

“Is that really you?” The princess’s voice was little more than a broken whisper. “I don’t understand…” She stretched out a weary hoof towards him.

The dragon stared down at her in silence. His first instinct was to say something, to utter her name, to ask her all the questions that weighed down on his soul. But instead, he clenched his teeth together, and slowly lowered himself to all four, bringing his muzzle close enough for her to reach.

“You,” the princess whispered as her hoof touched his face, “you came back.” She brought up another hoof to wrap around his muzzle in a clumsy embrace.

The dragon closed his eyes at the sensation. ‘You left me little choice,’ he thought to himself, and gently tugged his head free from the pony’s grasp to look down at her. ‘The sun…’

She seemed taken aback by his retreat, staring hopelessly before he brought a claw to brush her tangled mane away from her eyes. ‘What happened to you?’ he wondered.

The Alicorn lowered her head, and pulled her forelegs close. In the candlelight, she might have been able to hide the sight of her scars, but the dragon could still smell the blood that coated her fur.

“I thought you hated me,” she said to the floor.

‘Hate? You abandoned me, left me to rot in a cold world that held no place for me.’ His heart ached at the sight of his lost friend—even more so when she refused to look at him. He lifted her chin with a claw, but even when facing him her eyes averted his. ‘No, it’s not as simple as hate,’ he thought, certain she would understand if only she would look into his eyes.

She didn’t, though. The princess pulled away, and rose to her hooves. Her legs trembled under her as she waddled over to a silver table, where a bottle of wine levitated to pour its bloody liquid into a goblet.

“I deserve it,” she muttered as she brought the cup to her mouth, drinking deep. “Want some?” She wiped her mouth. “It’s the last from the cellar. They nearly emptied it when I gave them free reign of the barrels. I figured the nobles wouldn’t need it anymore.” A light chuckle escaped her, but died away just as quickly.

The princess looked at him again, careful to avoid direct eye contact. She studied him as if she was trying to determine if she could trust her own eyes. “You’ve grown,” she said to him, her voice soft, but hesitant.

‘It’s been a long time,’ he thought, trying not to ponder exactly how long it had been. ‘You haven’t aged a day.’

She sat down on her red-stained cushion, and levitated a purple vial before her face. “I was really close, you know.” The liquid turned to steam when she poured it onto the floor. “Useless.”

More glass containers hovered around the Alicorn. “This one almost worked.” She threw the vial in question against a pillar, shattering the glass and leaving a blue smudge on the marble. “Useless,” she muttered again, a little louder this time. Another failed potion shot through the air.

Elixirs, potions, and wine bottles swirled around, crashing into floor and walls. “Useless, useless, USELESS!” An acidic puddle began eating its way through the stone by his feet, forcing the dragon to take a step back.

‘Stop!’ he pleaded in silence.

The Alicorn gave pause. Deaf to his prayers, but not his presence, she lowered her projectiles like feathers around the throne. “I was useless.” She kept her head as high as a princess could under the weight of her crown. “They trusted me.” She glanced at the royal statues above, but lowered her head as soon as she felt their eyes upon her. “They trusted me, and I...” The princess lied down on her cushion, and buried her face in her hooves. “All of this happened because I was useless.”

‘No.’ The dragon moved closer. ‘None of this is your fault.’ Pinched between two claws, he lifted the star-tipped crown off her weary head, and put the element as far away as he could. ‘Let the past rest in peace.’

“I want to weep for them,” she uttered, her voice muffled under her hooves, “but I have no tears left to give.”

‘No one expects you to weep. Not anymore.’

“Sometimes it feels like I’m sleeping, like I’m about to wake up, and open my eyes in a better world.” The princess shifted on her cushion, freeing her face from her hooves. “I’ve waited so long to—” Her voice broke. “To wake up from this, this, this…” She drew a deep, trembling breath. “This nightmare.”

Slowly, she raised her head to lock eyes with him. “I want to go home.”

‘Home?’ thought the dragon. He knew of only one such place and it was not somewhere he would feel comfortable going. ‘Anywhere is better than this goddess-forsaken castle.’ He flattened his hand before the throne. ‘Yes, princess,’ he conveyed through his eyes, ‘I will take you home.’

The pony stood still for a moment, but with the dragon urging her closer, she rose with quivering legs to step up into his palm, and as she lied down, he could feel the heat of his hand seeping into her. ‘You’re cold,’ he thought as he lowered her tiny body onto his back.

“You’re warm,” she said, clinging to him tightly.

Not wanting to spend another minute in the musky hall than he needed to, he turned and started back towards the massive door. The inside of his mouth flared up with dragonfire that again shone through his teeth to shoo the dark away. The pony on his back said something, but the crackling flames in his mouth distorted her voice.

Out of the throne room he carried her, and into the blackness of the hallway beyond. This time he did not bother containing his torch, leaving tapestries, paintings, and sculptures were burning and melting in his wake. ‘Let it burn,’ he thought, wishing he could bring down the whole castle in an emerald inferno.

By the time he stepped back out into the courtyard, the heavens had stopped weeping, leaving the ground covered in a thin layer of water that reflected the clouds above as they drifted back to the vast forest from which they came.

Ripples scattered across the slick surface as the dragon tread over it. The tiny creature on his back tightened her grip around him, pressing her head into his warm scales. ‘She doesn't want to see.’ He could hardly blame her; there was enough death in the city to frighten vultures away.

He made his way under the portcullis, and halted at the top of the steps overlooking the city. ‘She has seen enough,’ he told himself, and spread his wings as wide as he could. The pain was more numbing than agonizing this time. His warmth seeped into the Alicorn, but she returned something even more potent that only he could appreciate.

With a great leap, he threw himself into the air.

The wind caught hold of his wings, sending him gliding effortlessly over the ruins. The dragon turned his wings, setting course for the valley below. Home, it was ironically close. Coming and going was not as easy for a princess with a realm to rule.

‘She could have given up the crown, and left any time she wanted.’ He turned his neck to look back at her as he flew. ‘Why did you wait so long?’

The ground emerged as his green light washed over the overgrowth. The dragon pounded the air to slow their descent before his clawed feet touched the earth.

Ivy covered the run-down buildings that surrounded the grassy clearing. The spire of the town hall had long since collapsed under its own weight, leaving it a maimed husk with plants clinging to its rotten wood.

He lowered his body onto the wet grass, and stretched out a wing to act as a ramp. The pony loosened her grip, and rose to her hooves, scanning the area around her before stepping down.

‘Does she even recognize it?’

She turned towards him, her expression morphing from helplessness to curiosity as she fixed her gaze on his burning mouth. “Your flames, can you show me?”

‘My flames?’ thought the dragon.

She seated herself in front of him. “I want to see.”

It was a strange request, but he saw no harm in it. He rose to his hind legs, craning his neck up towards the sky as his lungs filled with cool night air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the princess gazing wide-eyed up at him as the dragonfire rose from his mouth to pierce the night.

The little pony watched awestruck up at his display, her eyes reflecting the shimmering green. But as the sky burned, he noticed something that made his flames falter.

‘She’s smiling.’

“Please don’t stop."

He breathed as hard as he could, feeding the light that somehow had the power to pull his old friend out of her misery. But a dragon could only do so much. Completely out of breath, he lowered himself to all four again, and the world suddenly grew darker as the dragonfire returned to a modest torch behind his teeth.

The pony shrank a little when it ended, as if she just remembered what world she was living in. “It reminds me of fireworks,” she said, her voice carrying a feint sense of joy, “At the summer festivals, we used to have these—” She bit her lower lip. “Everyone was happy. Even I was—” The word seemed to catch in her throat. Swallowing the past, she turned her back on him.

The princess’s horn glowed for a moment, producing a luminous orb that floated above her head, lighting up the abandoned town in an orange glow that outshone the dragon’s. “This way,” she said, shining her light down a deserted street. Her steps were slow and cautious, like she was afraid someone would come rushing out of a house to greet her. Or curse her.

The silent dragon followed.

Abandoned buildings pressed high around them, watching with hollow eyes as the princess led the way. One in particular caught the pony’s attention; its decorated structure made it stand out among its friends. A sign hung proudly over the door, but the writings were too faded to make out.

“Do you remember?” asked the princess.

‘Some memories are best left alone,’ thought the dragon, and turned his eyes away from the boutique.

At the end of the road, a grotesque tree rose high above the town. The pony’s orange and the dragon’s green washed over its massive roots as they approached, revealing a swelled opening that may have passed for a door long ago.

The pony halted, and gazed upwards at the high branches that stretched futilely towards a heaven they could never reach.

She turned to face him. Her eyes spoke of sadness and longing, and yet she forced a smile. “It’s okay,” she uttered before the dragon realized his own eyes told a similar story. She lowered her head, and pushed her way inside the doorway.

‘I shouldn't feel sorry,’ thought the dragon. But he did. He dug his angular claws into the earth as he watched the princess disappear into the hollow tree. ‘What am I if I betray my own words?’ He turned his neck to look at the eastern horizon again. It was dead, still waiting for a sun that would never return unless the princess wished it so.

Warm light seeped through slits in the tree’s skin, inviting the dragon closer. He sighed, and lied down on the grass to rest his head outside the entrance. Through the overgrown door, he spied the princess sitting in a round room surrounded by bookshelves.

What looked like a brick wrapped in cloth levitated before her. She blew at it, releasing a mist of dust into the air. In the orange light of her orb, she peeled the cloth away with her magic, revealing a neatly bound and perfectly preserved book. She looked back out through the door.

“It’s about dragons,” she said, and lowered her eyes, “very difficult find and…” The princess stared down at the title. “I thought you’d like it, so I got it for your hatchday.” A purple cloud of magic carried the book through the door to land in front of him.

The cover depicted an ivory dragon almost as large as him, looking down at a faceless pony with the sun shining in the background.

‘My hatchday...’

He tried his best to interpret the title above the image. There used to be a time when he could read, but now, centuries later, the characters made as little sense as the stars that recently danced across sky.

“You had grown so big, and I thought if you just understood yourself better, it might help with your—” She looked up from the floor to glance at him, but seemed to regret it immediately.

‘My being what I am?’

“I should have given it to you earlier. I should have done a lot of things differently” A nonexistent crown weighed down on her weary head. “It’s too late to do anything now.” A hopeless sigh escaped her. “I just want to go home.”

The wind died, and the rustling grass fell silent.

‘Home?’ the dragon wondered, ‘I thought this was what you meant.’

“Do you know where home is?” she asked in a voice meeker than before. Her head rose to look at something out of view from the dragon. “Home,” she began as a faint smile formed across her face, “is where your friends are.”

‘But your friends are…’ A chill crept down the dragon’s spine when realization hit him.

“I held them,” she said, raising her hooves before her face, “so many died in my grasp, and there was nothing I could do.” Her hooves trembled as she lowered them back to the wooden floor. “The only comfort I could give them was a promise.”

The forlorn princess locked her tormented eyes with his, and it seemed to take all her willpower just to keep them there. “I promised them it wasn’t the end,” she explained, “I promised them that we would meet again someday.”

‘No.’

“It’s time for me to fulfill that promise.”

‘No!’

“I want to see them—”

The dragon flung her gift back into the library to collide with a bookcase, sending several dusty tomes crashing onto the floor. The pony jumped at the noise, springing up to all four, and taking a few frantic steps away as her gift slid across the floor to stop by her hooves.

She stared down at the book as the ruckus subsided, and once more stillness descended over the world. The princess hardly moved at all, her breaths turning weaker and weaker.

‘I thought you were better than this.’

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

‘Sorry?’ The dragon rose to his feet. ‘I traveled across half the world to see you again, and this is how you repay me?’ He turned his tail to the tree. ‘You’re a coward just like the rest of them.’ His feet fell heavy to the ground as they carried him back the way they came.

“I’m sorry!” a shrill voice cried after him.

‘Cowards don’t get to be sorry,’ he thought as walked away, ‘You weren't sorry when you sent me away.’

“Wait!”

He increased his pace, and spread his wings as he approached the clearing. ‘Coming here was a mistake.’ His wings pounded the air, and he felt his feet lift off the ground.

“Please, just—”

Something powerful grabbed hold of him. He looked down, and saw a shining, purple cloud wrapped around his leg. It tugged at him, trying to force him back to the ground.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

The dragon beat his wings harder, and attempted to shake his leg free. But for all his effort, his ascent slowed until he no longer felt himself moving forward, and finally a last strong pull sent his whole body crashing into the earth. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs, and slammed his jaws shut, suffocating his torch.

A growl rose from deep within him, growing louder as he climbed back to his feet. He could feel his heart pounding at his temples. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other without looking back.

But the stubborn Alicorn would not let him. Her magic wrapped around him again when he tried to leave. His footsteps grew heavier, his eyesight redder, and his growl deeper.

“Why won’t you just—”

The dragon let out a thunderous roar that shook the very heavens above them, drowning out the pony’s words. His long tail smashed into the ground behind him as wrath ate at the very core of his being. ‘If you have any sense you will let me go.’

The Alicorn’s magic pulled his feet out from under him, and once again sending his heavy body crashing onto the wet grass.

He turned his head to glare at her with furious eyes, teeth clenched so hard out of anger he felt they might shatter.

The princess stood undeterred some distance behind him, her horn glowing bright purple. She appeared strained from the effort, but showed no sign of giving up. Again, she opened her mouth to speak, but another roar drowned out the words.

The dragon charged.

The earth trembled under his feet as he rushed towards her, and finally the magic let go of him as the Alicorn cowered. He clenched his fist into a hammer, and hurled it down at her.

A flash of purple emitted from the impact, and his fist bounced back. The princess looked up at him through a purple dome that surrounded her. He roared, and brought another fist down at her, but her aegis deflected his punishment.

Blinded by fury, the dragon launched a lance of fire at her, but the shield held strong. Again, he drew breath and fired at her, and again it was repelled. The beast rose to stand on two legs. Towering over her, he inhaled as deeply as he could for another blast.

Her shield dissipated.

“Do it!” she screamed.

The fireball shot out of his mouth with tremendous speed, and hit the boutique at his side, consuming it in a twisted, green inferno.

“Do it!” she yelled again, open and exposed, “I’m right here, do it!”

The dragon froze, looking down at her in a mixture of rage, confusion, and disbelief.

A cold mist of magic slapped him across the face, forcing him down to all four.

“You’re a monster,” she yelled at the top of her lungs, “monsters kill!”

Another invisible hoof struck his face, his cheek throbbing with pain.

“Why won’t you—”

Her strikes grew weaker and more desperate.

“—just do it?”

‘Princess…’

Her legs betrayed her, forcing her to kneel. “Why won’t you just—” her voice broke into a heartbreaking cry as she collapsed to the ground. She curled up into a ball, letting out waves of sobs as she struggled for breath.

The cold wind rose to brush against his scales, as if it was trying to push him away. Slowly, his rage subsided to a rotten guilt that twisted in his stomach. ‘I should go.’ He looked back at the clearing, not far away at all. ‘She won’t stop me, not now.’

The fire was spreading rapidly to neighboring buildings, illuminating the forsaken streets in an eerie glow of green and orange. Soon the smell of smoke and death sailed through the air as the dragon stood over the broken Alicorn.

He held his bruised fist in front of his face. ‘I truly am the monster she sent away.’

Somehow, he felt as alone as he did in his solitude, cruelly distant from the one thing he had ever wanted in this world, yet always close enough to reach out and touch should he choose to. Back then, reaching out would have meant death, but now…

A force within himself he could not explain kept him from fleeing. ‘She must feel even more alone than I.’

The dragon sat down on the grass, and folded his massive wings into a sanctuary that enclosed around the princess like a wall, trapping them inside their own little world. Heat rose and swirled in his throat to recreate his emerald torch, releasing light, but containing the deadly flames within.

‘Look at me,’ he pleaded in silence.

The princess stirred at the dragon’s movement, and forgot to cry long enough for her dry eyes to glance up at him. Green light reflected off his leathery walls, allowing her to see his face. His wings blocked out the wind, the death, the cruel smoldering world. They were safe there, alone, no one would ever know.

Words left unsaid for too long took shape in his mind. His tongue begged permission to speak. His mouth opened wider, letting his flames grow, his light shine brighter, and his heat intensify. But the words he yearned to express caught in his throat, his pride killing them before they grew past infancy.

His eyes squinted in anguish, and his jaws fell shut. His vow, his curse, would always haunt him. But he was not alone in his silence. Under the sound of crackling flames, the pony’s sobbing had disappeared.

His companion crawled across the grass towards him, gently brushing against his scales to rest her tiny body against his. Without giving it any thought, he readjusted himself, lying down and wrapping his wing over her so she could lie comfortably up against him.

For a while, everything was as it should be. It did not matter that his inferno was spreading through the town like wildfire. She was resting safely under his wing, her tiny chest rising and falling as she drew soft and steady breaths.

As the world burned, the princess dreamed.

The dragon counted her sleeping breaths, wishing they would never end—that she would never again have to wake up in a world devoid of life and joy. But it was not to be. Nearby, a burning building collapsed, and the pony stirred at the sudden noise.

“Big brother?” she uttered from the darkness underneath his wing, “Is that you?”

He felt her tuck herself closer to him, her face grazing against his smooth scales.

“I dreamed I was old.”

‘Go back to your dreams,’ he wanted to tell her, ‘There is nothing for you in this world. Only monsters.’

Something glowed purple under his wing, and the princess emerged. She squinted at the light from the burning town, but when her eyes finally adjusted, she sat down next to his face, and placed a hoof on his muzzle.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t have—” She bit her lip again. Her hoof moved gently across his face. “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.” The hoof stopped at the edge of his mouth. “I knew you could never forgive me ever since I watched you fly away, all those years ago.”

The dragon tensed at the memory, but the pony seemed to sense his anxiety, moving her hoof to caress his poisonous thoughts away.

“But now,” she whispered, resting her tiny head against his, “it’s your turn to watch me fly away.”

‘I…’ The dragon’s words withered away in his mind before he could grasp them.

“I’ve waited long enough now. My people are gone, my realm is gone, all that remains is me.” Her hoof slid across his closed lips. “Will you show me,” she asked, “one last time?”

The dragon hesitated. Part of him wanted to snatch her up in his hand, and carry her far, far away. ‘Monsters don’t save princesses.’ His heart was too heavy, his spirit weak and broken. Trembling, his jaws parted for her as heat and light swirled together deep inside him, rising through his throat to lick the top of his mouth.

The Alicorn watched intently. “More,” she asked.

He allowed his fire to fill the back of his throat, rising to produce a bright torch that sent waves of heat washing over the pony.

“So warm.” She raised her hoof from his lip, moving it closer as if she wanted to touch the emerald flames he was trying to contain. “It’s beautiful.”

‘Careful.’ The dragon pulled away from her, closing his mouth. When he saw what he had done, his heart dropped.

“Such a pure thing, fire,” she said, showing no signs of being in pain as she studied her scorched hoof. “It always remains until there is nothing left for it to burn. That way it never dies alone.”

Another building collapsed, shooting a thunderous crack through the hot air. The greenish orange conflagration was spreading all around them. Even the branches of the ancient tree had caught fire as it swayed in the wind, creaking as its deep roots tugged at the earth below.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, “Until the end?”

The dragon swallowed, his lower jaw shivering in spite of the surrounding heat. ‘Is this truly what you want?’

The princess put her blackened hoof back to the ground, rose, and began walking towards the library, slowly at first, but when she heard him following her, her steps grew more determined.

‘There are better ways…’

She halted before the tree. The flames were already in the process of consuming most of it, but the lower trunk was yet untouched. The princess looked back at him, and raised her burned hoof to caress his cheek.

“I never should have sent you away,” she said to him, her voice soft as silk in the wind, “I know what I did to you is unforgivable, but I want you to—” the words caught in her throat, but she continued, “I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

‘I…’

Her hoof moved gently across his scales as the fire reached further down the tree. “Do you want me to—” She gazed deep into him with those ancient, purple eyes of hers. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”

Her lips fell wet and sweet on his forehead. His heart screamed at him to open his mouth, to speak, to give her the words she deserved, but his mind had shut itself in.

“Goodbye, Spike.”

She held the dragon's gaze for but a moment before breaking away, turning to the burning library.

‘Please don’t leave me again,’ he begged in unvoiced despair, sitting paralyzed as she took the first step towards the tree. He wanted to roar, to pick her up and fly away, to let his heart be free again, but the transgressions of the past barred him still.

She walked through the threshold, and the flames rose behind her, forbidding any view into the library at all. The tree creaked with strain as enormous, scorched branches fell from the sky to crash into neighboring roofs.

‘I…’ The words came hard to his mind, painful but true.

The flames rose, and his pride fell.

“I FORGIVE YOU!” he screamed into the blaze with a voice that boomed throughout the world. “I FORGIVE YOU!” he bellowed again, hoping against hope that she would hear his lament.

The firestorm crackled and roared in return as smoke rose on all sides.

“TWILIGHT!”

*****

Cold ashes rained from the empty sky. The blanket of stillness had once again descended over the world. Alone, the dragon wandered through the night, stepping over smoldering rubble as he made his way out of the town.

‘Who will raise the sun now?’ he wondered, gazing up at the eastern horizon.

A single star appeared tiny and alone in the heavens, shining dimly over the world. It blinked down at the lonely dragon, shimmered brighter, growing, swelling, and finally died.

Author's Note

I hope you found my story enjoyable. It took me a long time to write and it feels good to finally have it finished and published. Please feel free to leave a comment telling me what you thought of it. I'd love to hear from you! Constructive criticism - whether positive or negative - is always welcome.

I would also like to extend my sincere gratitude to those who have assisted me in the making of this story. These helpful assistants are:
Idylia, an amazingly talented writer who took the time to proofread for me, you should definitely check out his work!
Vagabond, also a very talented writer who have given me moral support and practical feedback through the whole process.
Last, but not least, Laken from my writing group have been breathtakingly generous in her willingness to help me improve my craft. Not a Pegasis herself, but still a far greater writer than me.