I soar through the massive, pegasus-maintained sky, scanning the surface for clusters of houses. I try to remember when I saw this much green on the ground that wasn’t on fire. My scales have always done a good job of camouflaging against a blue sky, but they always have this occasional glint that gives me away and drives me crazy. Since I’ve departed, I’ve landed seven times over just to find the best way to carry around the Scepter. I worry that I’m never going to get used to this thing. You know, aside from the surge of magical power and feeling the heartbeat of every dragon alive. I’m supposed to be looking for a town by the Everfree Forest with a big, crystal castle shaped like a tree. Or was it a crystal castle on top of a tree? Ugh, I should’ve brought the letter with me.

I consider flying back to Cloudsdale as a reference point, but I don’t want another lightning bolt to the face. Speaking of which, how do those ponies keep that overgrown mound of fluff from blowing away? Its clouds, for friggin’ sake.

Before my train of thought can derail any further, I spot my destination. The roof I land on is made of straw, so I have to be careful about not getting any of it snagged in my spikes.

“DRAGON!” call out some bystanding ponies, loudly and out of sync in their panic. Screams of terror are usually an awesome thing to hear, but in this case it kind of caught me off guard. Surprised, that’s the word. Yeah, like I’m going to be scared by a pony that’s already scared of me.

“No, wait, I’m not here to-” Too late. Guards are here. Well, one guard, anyway. She’s out of uniform and doesn’t have a weapon, but I can tell she’s on some oh-no-another-pony-is-in-danger first response team. Lesson one about raiding ponies: The ones that don’t run are always professionals. The colors of her mane are so bright, they almost makes me squint.

“Alright, you scrawny flying lizard,” Little Miss What the Hell Did You Put in Your Mane this Morning says, “you better go back where you came from or you’re gonna feel the Dash!”

The Dash? Seriously? Even for an inside joke, I can tell that’s terrible. She’s getting an eyeroll for that with a snort for good measure. I take the Bloodstone Scepter out, the most valuable artifact of dragonkind, and bop her over the head with it. She collapses like a ragdoll. Sheesh, I knew that ponies don’t have scales, but I thought they at least had skulls inside their heads or something.

“Sorry!” I say, even though I know that Pun Genius over here can’t hear me. It’s more to the ponies watching than to her.

Speaking of which nearby earth pony is already galloping towards me. She has a lasso, and apparently knows how to use it than I expected her to, since I’m tied down face-first on the ground before I know it.

“Rainbow! Ya feeling alright?” she calls out, trying to pin me down with a body smaller than mine. ‘Rainbow’ is currently snoring. I say something into the dirt that was probably best for anypony to miss out on. I snare the earth pony’s tail with mine and flick her off to one of the softer roofs. As my fangs bite through the rope I begin to think of the quickest way inside the walls of the castle. At this rate I’ll have to fight of at least, like, eleven ponies? That’s forgivable over self-defense, right?

“WAIT!”

Oh hi, Spike. Where were you during my flawless first impression?

The inside of the castle is nice enough. I don’t get a wide range of castles. Not very expecting of a princess, but pretty much a given for a dragon. I’m sitting at this big fancy table that doubles as a big 3D map of Equestria. The purpose of the map is a long, drawn-out explanation that I zoned out on. I take another sip of the first cup of tea I’ve ever had in my life. It’s surprisingly sweet. I conclude that putting sugar in things that taste awful is the best thing ever; royal decree right there. I start to wonder if these ponies went out of their way to make me a teacup that had small enough handles for my fingers, but then I notice that all the other teacups have the same handles size. So, in my conclusion, I guess that ponies just have teacups with handles too small for their hooves. Ponies are hitting their highs and lows all over the place today.

Speaking of tensions between races, the rainbow-maned pony that said that I was ‘going to feel the Dash’ (full name ‘Rainbow Dash’) is BFFs with Twilight here. Of course, all ponies are BFFs in some extent. It’s kind of their thing, especially in small little towns like these. She has woken up and is giving me the stink eye, even though SHE was the one that assaulted ME. Twilight’s going on about how kicking ass first and asking questions later is Rainbow Dash’s whole deal, sprinkling in words like ‘passionate’ and ‘protective.’ Yikes, and I thought only dragons could be this reckless.

Whatever. I can live with her hating me on the down-low. I invented hating someone on the down-low. (A+ parenting, Dad.)

The one who roped me is called Applejack. She has the same job that every earth pony has: Growing food that ponies can eat, but dragons can’t. Although, I might have to do some research on that last detail, since Spike is loving his third apple turnover in one sitting.

There’s another presence in the room, but I can’t quite identify it. That is, it won’t sit still. It’s kind of like a big jittery bug, except it moves along the ground and occasionally the walls. The blur keeps making this constant sound, and if I can focus, some of it sounds like words. It’s starting to creep me out. At least the ponies acknowledge it, so that’s a sign I’m not going crazy.

They all call it ‘Pinkie.’

Next to Rarity, there’s another pegasus that I think is doing an impression of a painting. You know, the kind of optical illusion ones that make it seem like its eyes are following you around the room. She’s completely motionless. I don’t think she’s blinked since she was forced into the room. Her mouth is wide agape, letting out a whisper of a never-ending scream. I gather that her name is ‘Fluttershy’ and that she doesn’t talk much. I like her. I always admired the strong, silent type, and this is kind of like that. Right? Yeah, no. Didn’t think so. Nothing like that. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s just kind of a wimp. Although, Twilight insists that Fluttershy is ‘the nicest pony in the world once you get to know her,’ and I’ve been sticking to a ‘don’t knock it till you’ve tried it’ mentality since I came here.

It’s still hard to make out, but Pinkie seems to be mentioning a certain word over and over again. I decide it’s worth investigating.

“Yo, Spike, what’s a party?”

Pinkie stops, motion-wise and sentence-wise. In that rare instance, I discover that she’s shaped like a pony. Kind of obvious, in hindsight. Also, she’s looking at me like I don’t know what gravity is.

Spike scratched his head. “It’s, uh, this thing we do to celebrate a special occasion. We all go to this one place at once to have fun. There’s usually lots of singing and cake!”

Before I have time to respond, Pinkie has recovered from her shock to launch into another spew of gibberish.

“Omigosh and there’s TONS of ways to throw one! There’s the parties I throw whenever there’s a new pony in Ponyville; cuteceañeras; there’s after parties, which are kind of like a party to cool down after you go to a bigger party so you can get ready for MORE parties, there’s dances; festivals; parades; birthday parties-”

“Birth… day? I don’t get it.”

Pinkie was now looking at me like I had just suggested that we take Princess Celestia and dump her in a vat of acid.

“You’ve never had a birthday party?” she says in the slowest manner she managed to do all afternoon.

“Um… no, I don’t think so. What is it?” I’m trying to deconstruct the phrase. “Is it like a party you ‘throw,’ as you call it, when you’re born? I don’t think I’d remember that day.”

I think I broke her now. Rainbow Dash is trying not to laugh. I think Rainbow and I are good for the time being. Spike looks worried, though.

“Hey, girls?” he pipes up. “I don’t think we should go this route. Remember the last time I had a birthday party? With the presents and the growing?”

It’s looking like a funeral all of the sudden. Guests are avoiding eye contact. I suspect it’s not my fault the tone shifted this way, but that means it’s harder for me to change it back. The awkward silence stretch out like a rubber band.

I huff, making a bit of smoke. Royal decree: Friendship is hard.

Author's Notes:

Probably not the first Ember story approved, but probably the first that's not angst-ridden romance or smut.

Also, I'm not dead! Yeah, here's the thing I say about bronies: We don't come back, we relapse.