My father used to tell me that the most attractive force in the universe wasn’t love, it was power. He was a cynical old man, but in the cutthroat world of politics I was embroiled in, he was mainly right. The fairytale world of love and tolerance, peace and happiness and all the technicoloured ideology young drakes would spew, were swept aside with practicality and pragmatism. If you didn’t need it, it wouldn’t keep you alive. My father was not a man easily beguiled by the finer things that poets and dreamers often sung about. He knew the darker side of the world, a world embroiled in war and struggles of power.

He always used to say that his generation was where the buck had stopped. Where privilege met responsibility, the delicate scales for which philosophy, politics and legacy all warred against each other for the fate of a race.

My people were a people of tradition and custom. Dragons were a race where age empowered rather than enfeebled, where wisdom and age were revered but where ideas and concepts remained aged and stagnant. One ideal was ironically the victor in all this, one law that prevailed through the hill and valleys of time. I reflected wryly that our higher cognitive thoughts were just a veil for our base primal motives. Of all the primal motives there were, none was more powerful than survival.

So viciously we fought, for the future of our race. My father had tried to be reasonable, he tried to talk the other Elders into seeing reason. He urged them that a war with the humans would certainly end in extinction. Some dragons believed him and were noble. Dragons like Dithra and Stefan, loyal to their very core. They stood for the principles of reason and sought coexistence, the only possible way in which we could ever survive…

But it was all for naught. The voice of peace and tolerance and our overtures of friendship were soured under a vicious attack of folly on the opposing counsel, the faction of dragons that ached for war and to conquer the humans. The humans retreated back into their cold masks of emotionless apathy and with a quick and methodical flick of the wrist, a signature from the highest authority bore down arms and armament on our piteous hiding places, where we skulked for the last of our days.

My father was one of the first to know. He let everyone in our political circumference know that the humans were coming. In a last-ditch effort, he bought us the time to hole up near a bunker, deep within the territory of the Lung. My father always had a backup plan, he had men waiting for us, men he trusted with his life and more. They waited for us briefly, got us situated and left to help my father. I could only watch as they disappeared into the tree line, never to be seen again.

A couple days later, I was grimly informed that my father had fallen in battle. He died with the sphere of the Lung hanging loosely in his jaws. I don’t know what became of the sphere but I hoped the humans hadn’t gotten their hands on it. It was a power that even my father was hesitant to play with, even though it was an ancestral legacy left for our line.

We were kept safe for a relatively long while. Then we were betrayed. One of our informants, a human, eventually figured out that we were dragons and defected. I don’t know how the information leaked out, but it didn’t matter. We received next to no warning of the subsequent attack. Snipers, heavy machine-gun fire, rained hell on our little camp. A few of us managed to escape, lifting to the skies and narrowly escaping the helicopters that bore down on us. We made it to the bunker, but it was too little, too late.

The rest is history and I’m now the last of my Line.

–––––

After the dragon had summoned help through workings of Power I was unfamiliar with, I stoked the fire-stone with my azure breath to prevent us from freezing over. Though the sun would provide enough light and heat later on, I still preferred the radiative heat of the stone. It was comfortable, much more so than sun-baking. Ashadh was normally the one that appreciated sunlight, I couldn’t tolerate it to a great degree. I preferred my fires naked and close, not distant and cold like the stars above.

The little drake had taken to staring nervously around him and at the sky, as if expecting at any moment for something to pop out. I chuckled to myself and curled up on the stone to rest. The wound on my leg still throbbed, but it wasn’t causing any more undue trouble. It needed to be treated soon though, I certainly didn’t want to deal with an infection.

After a while, I drifted off into sleep again, exhausted from my fractured sleep. The dragon looked at more curiously for a moment, then returned his gaze to the skies.

–––––

“Spike!”

I woke to the shrill screech of some female’s voice. Adrenaline shot through my system, getting to my paws, but I stumbled awkwardly growling in pain. I stood more slowly and unsteadily and then took stock of my surroundings. To my left was the small dragon, who was still looking up at the sky. He seemed surprised, relieved and alarmed at the same time. Hi expression reminded me of something you’d normally see as an expression on a kid that has done something very wrong but was still glad to be reunited with their parents.

I finally turned my gaze upwards and my jaw dropped. There was an insultingly colourful purple-coated winged unicorn that circled above before diving down to land somewhat awkwardly next to Spike.

“Spike!” I recognised the voice belonging to the winged unicorn was the same voice that had woken me from my slumber. So this was the ‘help’ that the dragon had called for. I frowned skeptically, examining the form of the creature in front of me.

Hard hooves, feathery wings that reminded me of the feral quetzalcoatls of the South American persuasion. No fangs, no claws, maybe powerful muscles in her legs, but overall the equine-like creature didn’t seem much of a threat. I stood down and sank back on my haunches. Once this creature took away Spike I could lift myself out of this place and do some rest and recuperation without having to worry about that dragon’s hide.

The equine was smothering the little dragon, which I found vaguely amusing to watch.

“Oh Spike, I was so worried!” the diminutive creature pined as she crushed the whelp in a sort of improvised hug. I guess a four-legged creature could hug. Dragon preferred to just touch snouts at best, twining necks like that with our spines could poke out an eye. We’re practical like that.

Spike hugged her back, for a moment looking blissful. I wouldn’t say I envied the little bugger, but I certainly felt something of a sad longing. I crushed it under some quickly generated apathy. It helped that I looked away.

“Thanks for coming, Twi’.” I turned back to them as they broke apart and started conversing. The winged unicorn threw an inquisitive glance at my direction, as if trying to assess whether or not I would be a threat. From the way she stiffened a little, but didn’t back down, the little creature probably thought I was dangerous, but she could take me. I chortled silently. I almost wanted to see her try.

For a few tense moments we stared at each other. I looked at her blankly, not really knowing what to expect, but she looked at me with suspicion as if I was going to eat her on the spot if I wanted to. No, I don’t eat horses, I prefer cow.

Finally ’Twi’ gave me an awkward nod and finally introduced herself.

“I’m Twilight Sparkle. I believe you met Spike, my personal assistant.”

Huh, a personal assistant, well there were more than one way to hunt your prey, so to speak.

“Twilight, this dragoness saved my life. She’s injured so I think we should help her. By the way, you came pretty quick, I thought we might have to wait all day.”

Instantly Twilight’s demeanour changed. No longer was there the surly disposition as the Twilight bounded forward with worry etched on her face.

“Oh, you’re injured!” she cooed and sidled up to me, examining my wounded forelimb. “I see you’ve treated it,” she muttered with approval and then circled around me. “I’m not the best with dragon anatomy and I think there’s a Xenostician at the hospital, you should get it examined. Can you fly?”

Xenostician? What the heck was that? A hospital would be nice… but would I be able to pass as a local dragon here? I shook my head, I couldn’t risk it.

The winged-unicorn firmed her stance. “You should go to hospital,” she spoke more firmly. She must be used to getting her way. I shook my head and growled at her slightly.

Spike intervened before the situation could devolve into a confrontation.

“Twilight! Hold on, hold on, maybe she doesn’t like to go to hospitals, how about we decide on the way there?”

Twilight glanced at my forelimb, she sat on her haunches as she gave the idea a thought. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t as if she could force me to go to the hospital. My claws clicked ominously against the stone cliff as Twilight gave it serious thought.

“Okay,” she finally said. She brightened considerably after making the decision. “How about you fly with us to Ponyville?” I gave a curt nod at that. What kind of name was that? “I still need to thank you for saving Spike,” she continued. “Afterwards, we can have a little chat as to how he got there in the first place–” she gave Spike a withering look that made him shrink back a bit “–and why he would keep me up all night worrying about him!”

Spike kicked a pebble off the cliff with his hands behind his back. He didn’t make eye-contact with Twilight. Dragon! Where is your spine? You told me you saved the Crystal Empire for Ancestor’s sake! I vented a soft snort. Oh well, I’m more interested in resting up and gathering some intelligence. Father always used to say, information is power and you can never have too much power. Trust an electrical engineer to say that.

Twilight flexed her wings.

“Okay, just follow me. Spike, climb aboard.”

I hope they didn’t see me grin because it was funny seeing a dragon ride a talking horse. Not that the horse was big enough to be a full blown horse, more like a pony, but I was impressed that the pony would fly encumbered with the little dragon. He wasn’t heavy but he wasn’t light either. Without a wing-span like mine I would be impressed if she could do more than glide.

Twilight seemed quite confident so I subsided, stretching out my wings in preparation to save both of their lives if it came to that. She must have mistaken the gesture as a signal that I was ready because the winged unicorn leaped off the ledge and plummeted down.

I gave a surprised squawk (if you tell anyone I will rend you with my claws) and I scrambled to the edge just in time to see the equine and her companion flapping awkwardly but powerfully, slowly climbing back up to the ledge. Twilight saw my piercing look and smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she hovered in front of me. “I’m not really used to flying.”

I frowned at that. What? You’re born with wings aren’t you? How can you not be used to flying? How could anyone not want to fly every moment of their lives if they had wings? I would have, if it weren’t for the necessity of keeping low and not attracting human attention. I’m a certified land-dweller now. Flying was like riding a bicycle, you never forget.

I beat my wings, taking to the skies. I hovered in place, my wings producing air currents that brushed past Twilight’s face and fluttered her mane. I turned my face away so they wouldn’t see me smile from the giddy joy of flight. I rose in altitude and tailed back behind Twilight as she lead the way.

I hope they had some meat. I was getting a little hungry.

Author's Notes:

Finally updated this. I don't when I last did it but it was a long time ago. I'm pinballing around my fics right now so there's not going to be consistent updates. If you liked this one, thanks!

Next Chapter: To Ponyville! It's alright, it'll be short. Maybe.

As always, my reticulated readers, thanks for reading!