I'll never be the same.

I tell myself that sometimes, times when I can’t sleep. It doesn’t matter how many days or weeks or months go by; I remember. I remember the little details, the good ones and the bad ones. I don’t know if keeping the whole story in my head is a dragon thing, or it’s something just about me, or what. There’s still a lot about me that I don’t know. All I know for sure is I remember. I remember everything, and I know that I’ll never be the same.

It all started with a dream. Not a new dream, either. I’d been having this one every few nights for a really long time. I figured it was just a dragon thing, or something.

The dream always starts in the Golden Oak Library’s big downstairs room. Twilight’s there, of course, and so are all of our friends. We’re having some kind of party, and everyone’s talking. Everyone but me. For some reason I’m sweeping up the confetti on the floor, even though Pinkie’s still throwing the stuff everywhere. I run around the room, sometimes nearly chasing Pinkie, with a broom and a dustpan. The dustpan never fills up, and I keep getting smaller. A few minutes into the dream the confetti squares look as big as sheets of paper, and then I’m wandering in a forest of pony legs the size of tree trunks.

Then the conversation gets so loud that I can’t hear anything else. Twilight usually starts it. “Spike? Could you show us that new comic book you were telling me about before?”

Rarity chimes in next. “Oh please do, Spikey! I’d love to find out what happens to Radiance in this month’s issue, especially if you’d be so kind as to read it with me.”

This wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t all start looking for me. The pony leg forest starts moving, and pretty soon I’m an ant trying not to get stepped on. Pony hooves crash down around me like giant hammers, each one closer than the last.

This whole thing was terrifying the first time, but after reliving it for so many nights, it just feels depressing. The night that everything changed, I remember just sitting on the floor, waiting to get squished. In the past there’d been only two surefire ways to wake up: get stepped on, or get so small I fade away to nothing. Neither one ever felt very good.

Not that night, though. As wake-up calls go, delivering a letter is almost as bad. A second later I was face up in bed, panting and holding my aching stomach. A scroll spun through the air overhead and promptly fell on my nose. At least I didn’t swallow it; there’s been one or two early-morning letters that Celestia has had to resend. Twilight doesn’t know about those, thankfully.

Twilight stirred in her bed. “Spike? Was that a letter?”

I crawled out of bed and rubbed my eyes. Celestia hardly ever sends mail this early; she hadn’t even raised the sun yet. “Yeah—”

I was about to hand over the letter, but her magic beat me to it. The scroll left my claws, and left my thoughts a moment later; nothing sounded better than another three hours of sleep. I smiled, fell back into bed, and pulled my blanket up to my neck. Twilight had been a Princess for a whole week, after all. Earning her wings meant she could read her own mail once in a while. Maybe I could even conjure up a better dream, maybe with ice cream, or Rarity, or both.

Instead I heard Twilight gasp. “Oh my gosh! Princess Celestia’s coming here right after she raises the sun! Spike, we need to clean and reorganize everything! What could be wrong? Do you think Equestria’s in trouble? What If I’m in trouble? I-I just became a Princess a week ago! Did I miss a deadline, or a some last assignment?”

I opened my eyes just as the scroll dropped out of Twilight’s grasp and threatened to make another return-to-sender attempt. I snatched it out of the air as Twilight zoomed around the bedroom and happened to notice the letter’s opening line. “Hey, wait a second…”

Twilight’s magic lifted me out of bed and deposited me on her back. She ran down the staircase while I tried to hold on with only one hand. “No time for waiting, Spike. If Princess Celestia wants to see me this early, then it must be incredibly urgent.”

I inched my way along her back, forever grateful for my thumbs. As we reached the bottom of the staircase, I held the letter in front of her face. “Wait! Read the first line again.”

“I know what it says! It reads ‘Dear Spike, I’ll be paying you a visit this morn—’ What?” Twilight skidded to a halt, nearly sending me flying in the process. Sometimes she acts like I have suction cups for hands. “Princess Celestia’s coming to see you?”

I reflected on this for a moment, and held the letter a bit tighter than before. I’d been delivering mail for ages, but hardly ever for me. I brushed a claw against the elegant lettering. My name never looked so good in print; I kind of wanted to frame it.

Twilight craned her neck around to look at me and grinned. “Well?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you going to read it?” The subtle wag of her tail made her excitement clear enough.

I slid off her back and held the paper at arm’s length. “Ahem. ‘Dear Spike, I’ll be paying you a visit this morning immediately after I’ve raised the sun. There is an urgent matter that we need to discuss. Please give my warmest regards to Twilight. Yours, Princess Celestia.’ ”

I rolled up the paper, and then unrolled it again. It didn’t feel real. Urgent matters were Twilight’s department, not mine.

Her hoof touched my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I dunno, it’s just—” The first rays of full morning sunlight shone through the window, and a hoof thumped on the front door. Celestia wasn’t kidding about showing up immediately.

Twilight started for the door, and then turned back. “I’m sure it’s good news, Spike. I can’t even count the times I’ve driven myself crazy worrying about stuff like this.”

“Like thirty seconds ago?”

She blushed. “Point taken.”

Twilight bowed low as her magic turned the door handle. “Good morning, Princess Celestia! Please come in.”

Celestia smiled, just like she always does when Twilight’s around. “Good morning, Princess Twilight. I trust Spike shared his letter with you?”

Twilight rose to her hooves and nodded. “Yes. Would you like me to make us some tea, or breakfast? Spike’s not the only one around here who can cook.”

My stomach hurt just thinking about that prospect. There’s a reason I make Twilight three meals a day.

Celestia shook her head, much to my relief. “That sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid I need to speak to Spike privately. We won’t be long.”

My heartbeat doubled. Twilight’s legs wobbled, as if her heart had almost stopped.

Twilight turned back to look at me, which I think made us both feel worse. “Oh… Okay. I-I’ll be outside just in case either of you needs me.”

One of Celestia’s wings pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Twilight. I realize how odd this must seem. Spike and I will fill you in as soon as we’re done.”

I knew exactly how Twilight felt as she walked out the door. Normally that was my job, taking a long walk while the ponies did their thing. This time I was the one on the inside, feeling just as unprepared and nervous as Twilight always used to. Except that there wasn’t anyone standing next to me, and I didn’t have a saddlebag full of notes and books to show I knew what I was doing. If I’d done something wrong, it must’ve been something really bad for Celestia to show up and need to talk to me alone.

I tried to smile. “So… uh… H-hi Princess Celestia. Nice… um… the sunrise was really nice this morning.”

I really didn’t know what else to say. Even if I did, it wouldn’t come out right. My tongue is great at turning all the big words I know into smaller ones.

Celestia gave me one of her warmest smiles, the kind she normally directs at Twilight and Luna. It felt like a long-distance hug. “Won’t you join me for a little chat, Spike? Just like we used to?”

This time my smile was real. Sure she raises the sun every morning, but Celestia’s real special talent is making ponies (and dragons) feel warm inside. As I came closer, she lowered herself down until she was lying on the floor. Her eyes were level with mine, and that same smile was on her lips. I came within a foot of her ever-flowing mane, and a nudge from her wing convinced me to close the gap and sit right by her side. I hadn’t been this close to her since I was a hatchling learning to talk.

“I promise you’re not in any sort of trouble, although I do have a very serious matter to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

Her smile faltered. If I hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. “Spike, do you remember when first you asked me where your egg came from?”

“That was a really long time ago. That was back when me and Twilight were still living in your castle in Canterlot.”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“You said an explorer pony found my egg on the edge of Equestria and brought it back to Canterlot.”

“Yes, although there’s more to the story, more than I felt was prudent for you to know at such a young age.”

I folded my arms. “Like what?”

“I was the explorer who found your egg, Spike. I found it over five hundred years ago during an expedition to chart Equestria’s borders.”

My jaw dropped. “Five… five hundred years? How come I didn’t hatch for so long?”

Celestia looked away. “The real question is why you hatched at all. Twilight is the answer, of course. As you know, she hatched your egg during her entrance exam to my school.”

“What do you mean, ‘at all?’ If… if I didn’t hatch, then—”

“Dragon eggs normally hatch within a few months. I found your egg abandoned and tried my best to create the proper environment, but… when nothing happened, I assumed nothing ever would.”

“But how did Twilight do it? Why did you even let her try?” The words came out a lot louder than I meant them to. I couldn’t help it.

“The ‘how’ is a mystery of dragon and pony magic that I don’t pretend to understand. As for why, I didn’t intend for Twilight, or any other pony, to succeed. The point of the entrance exam was to see how she’d react to an impossible task.” Celestia finally looked at me and smiled. “Twilight has been redefining what’s possible ever since, hasn’t she? Your finally hatching is one of many things I can never repay her for.”

I found myself grinning, even though part of me wanted to cry. “Heh, yeah. Only, why tell me all this now? And why not tell Twilight?”

Celestia’s horn glowed with golden magic. “Because you and you alone have a very important decision to make.”

A three-dimensional map of Equestria appeared on the floor in front of us. I immediately spotted Canterlot, built into the side of an inch-high mountain, and followed the train tacks down to Ponyville. The map was so life-like that I expected to spy a tiny Friendship Express chugging its way through the mountain pass any second.

I knelt down until my nose was practically touching the floor. “Wow, this is amazing!”

“Do you see anything out of place?”

“Huh?”

After scanning the miniature streets of Ponyville, I stood up and gave the whole map a second look. The map was like a magic photograph: completely realistic, but also completely still. All except for one spot in the south. At the very edge of Equestria, smoke was rising over a tiny mountain. “What is that? What’s happening there?”

“Maps like this are how the Royal Guard report to me on the state of Equestria, and that mountain—”

I gasped. “Is that where you found my egg?”

Celestia paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, it is. It’s just beyond Equestria’s borders, in a wasteland frequented by migrating dragons. No dragon has ever taken up residence there, or at least that was my belief.”

“So… if there’s a dragon there now…” I looked up at Celestia. I’d felt so smart a second before, when I figured what was special about the mountain. If only Twilight was here to clue me in on this one.

“That dragon has been asleep for at least five hundred years, and is likely one of your parents.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. For some reason, I still managed to speak. “M-my parents?”

“That would explain how your egg arrived in the wastelands. As far as we know, wild dragons only lay eggs when they have a safe place to—”

“Can I see them?”

Celestia nodded. “That’s why I came to visit with so little warning. Wild dragons are migratory and rarely settle in the same area twice. If you don’t set out for that mountain soon, it will be too late.”

I nodded as hard as I could. “I’ll do it! I definitely want to meet my mom or my dad. Maybe some monster tried to steal my egg! Maybe my parents thought I hatched and ran away, or—”

Celestia raised a hoof. “I’m afraid there’s one other complication.”

“Huh?”

“According to a treaty I made with the dragons centuries ago, no pony can set hoof across that border; such was the price the dragons of the time set on recognizing Equestria as a country. Should you choose to make this journey, Spike, you’ll have to do it on your own.”

“What? All by myself? I can’t take any of my…” I looked around the empty library. None of my friends were there, but it was so easy to imagine that they were. Ponyville just wouldn’t be home without them. “I-I don’t know if I can do that. Could I send letters? What about if I take a non-pony friend like… um…”

“I’m afraid dragons are the only creatures allowed. You could certainly send letters, although you’d have to carry ink, quills, and paper with you the entire way.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. The best I could do was stare into Celestia’s eyes and will her to make up my mind for me.

“I know this is a frightening prospect, Spike. It scares me, too. Still, I wouldn’t be here talking with you if I thought the trip was too long or dangerous. It certainly wouldn’t be an easy mission, but I have every confidence that you’d be able to manage.”

I closed my eyes and tried to think, although that didn’t quell the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. Every ounce of self-preservation in me said to say no, to stay in the library with Twilight for the rest of my life. All the same, I opened my eyes and nodded. “I’ll do it.”