Chapter Fifty Eight

Fists of Fury

That next morning was the most comfortable one Spike had woken to in a long while. No worries about setting out as soon as possible, no worries about being imprisoned, no danger on the horizon; just a warm, soft bed, with his warm, soft wives all around him. Closing his eyes, he just laid back, enjoying the feeling for the first time in what felt like forever. The last time he felt like this was Saddle Arabia, which felt like a lifetime ago.

“Better not get used to it,” he muttered, content with simply feeling the slow, steady heartbeats of his family next to him. “Probably won’t be like this, again, until we’re home, in Equestria.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Spike simply began to think about the future in ways that didn’t involve just getting to Equestria in one piece, or where they’d be staying in the upcoming winter nights, or how they might pay for food. He wasn’t even thinking about how they would introduce Chrysalis to the rest of his friends and family, which was probably going to be a monumental task in and of itself. No, now, he simply thought to the future: years from now, when he’d be living in Canterlot Castle, surrounded by friends and family as he took his place in helping run the country.

“Daddy, will you help me fly?” He could imagine Maria’s little foal saying before bedtime, her pelt the same color as her mother’s. Well, what pelt she had, what with her cute scaly underbelly.

“Of course,” he’d say, lifting her up over his head, much to her pleasant little giggles. She didn’t have wings, or maybe she would, but just holding her up and kissing her on the forehead was enough to make her feel like she could soar.

“Daddy, will you read me this book tonight?” A voice would say, causing him to turn and find Chrysalis’ little colt by his knee, tugging at his shirt with one hand as the other clutched a well-worn storybook.

“The one with the handsome dragon prince, who rescues the northern empire from the dark lord Sombra? I thought I read that to you last week!” He’d say with a laugh, still happily putting his colt to bed as he began to read it once more, skipping out on some of the more boring details.

Chuckling to himself at the thought of Trixie and Asalah entering the room, muttering something about a maid needing help changing a diaper or two, Spike simply laid back in his bed in the here and now. He was just so happy that things were finally starting to look up, for the first time in what felt like months, that spending the time with his family was not only better than just shouting it to the world, but much less likely to attract the kind of attention he didn’t want. No, he was fine where he was, and until the four snuggling mares woke up, he was content where he laid.

In the other room, Eutropia had long been awake. Accustomed to rising with the sun, as her mother had conditioned her to, the young griffin had already finished her fifth rep of sit-ups. Rising to her feet, she patted herself with one of the towels she acquired from the nearby bathroom. “Need to remember to keep doing that,” she muttered as she dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups. The fact that she’s been skipping out on that, among her other exercises, during her time with Spike and his family had only served to remind her of her commitment to herself and her body. Her mother stressed that physical fitness was almost as good as spiritual fitness, and while Eutropia did not pray like her mother did, she did feel that it was impossible not to do so at points in her life, be it for good luck, for good health, or for the strength she felt she didn’t have at the time.

After leaving her mother behind, she began to pray more than ever before, praying for her mother’s safety and good health. Of course, being from a different branch of Maria’s own religion, the young griffin did this in secret, so that no one would know, for fear of embarrassment or misunderstanding. They probably thought she wasn’t part of a religion at all, given her tight-lipped nature. Even Asalah knew nothing of that, and she was probably just as quiet about praying as the others were, as she was from another part of the world entirely: where the culture and religion were as different and as alike as could be from her own.

She rather liked that about them; all of them, really. Even Spike. They were not blatant about what they did or didn’t believe in, spiritually, anyway, and that was something she could easily get behind. No need to flaunt or be flashy about it; just keep it to yourself, and let others in, but only if they showed interest. If not, then just stay the course, away from them and those who might not understand.

Rolling onto her side, after losing track of how many push-ups she’s done after a hundred, she began to slowly do leg lifts. “He’s in pretty good shape for all he’s been through. But, then again, Spike did say that he was an apprentice before now, and she must’ve run him through quite the wringer,” the griffin muttered. “Still has a long way to go, though. And if it were up to me, he’d be running the rest of this journey. But no, with winter on the way, we can’t have him falling behind in a snow bank or something. No, strength and endurance training would be best, but so will his flexibility; gonna have to routinely bend him until he almost breaks, I’ll bet.”

Rolling onto her other side, she continued. “But first thing’s first, he’s going to have to learn how to properly throw a punch without his dragon blood. Instincts are good and all, but they’re often very messy, and not very effective against skilled opponents. Plus, I’m betting he could learn a good bit of self-control from all this.”

In her heart she knew that training him to keep his emotions in check, at least during times of crisis, would not be easy. Spike, being a dragon, was tied to his emotions, more so than any other creatures on the planet. That meant that any emotion, if fully and unintentionally tapped into, could unleash parts of him that should be better left in check, the most forefront being rage and greed. Yet, other emotions, seemingly innocuous, could also rise up and take ahold of him.

There were stories from before Istanbul became Constantinople, before it was changed from Byzantium, before it was anything more than just a single city in the vast expanse of the Roaman Empire, when dragons ruled much of the island territories as city states, their power only matched by their emotions. Countless wars were fought in those days, between those mighty beasts and those they lorded over, and even though their fighting was far removed from the more prosperous lands of the Roamans legions, it drew their attentions.

Rage, greed, fear, and sadness; all these and more claimed the lives of so many dragons in the Grecian Isles, all those thousands of years before. Some dragons, upon losing loved ones or friends, fell into rages so deep that they tore islands apart until they were slain. Those afflicted with the scourge of greed gathered vast hordes of wealth at the expense of all in their sight, with wars being fought over their treasures upon death. Dragons who became ruled by fear sought to vanquish those that might hurt them, turning on friends and neighbors with wanton abandon until they were killed. The dragons afflicted with sadness fell into despair so deep that they drowned themselves in their own tears, raising the tides enough to flood countrysides, bring sickness and famine with it.

So many lives lost over the countless years, from dragons who could not control their emotions. In the grand scheme of things, they've likely been only a handful of the vast number of dragons to have existed, but they helped to shape the history of that part of the world more thoroughly than even Eutropia believed she knew. So, understandably, she did feel some trepidation about trying to teach the dragon to use self-control. Yet, she knew she was up to the task, because Spike was tied to his family, and just being in their presence would do wonders for his control.

Or at least she hoped.

Right now, the biggest problem was getting him out of bed early enough to start, but seeing that she’s been up for a while, it was likely that the dragon was awake as well. “Better now than never,” she muttered, getting up, patting herself down with the towel, and throwing on some of the clothes the Tsar’s maids delivered last night, ones that she specifically asked to be as plain as possible, she walked out of her room and into Spike’s.

“Spike, I think it’s time we get started on your training,” the griffin said, crossing her arms at the sight of the dragon in bed. His eyes were open, and he turned to face her when she opened the door, but he seemed off in his own little world. “Up and at ’em,” she added.

“Okay, but my family’s asleep,” the dragon whispered after snapping out of his apparent trance, silently motioning to the four forms cuddling against him. “Think we could wait, at least until they wake up?”

“Some of us already are,” a voice said, and, looking down, Spike and Eutropia noticed one of Chrysalis' eyes were half open.

“How long?” Spike asked.

“For a short while, but it was so comfy that I didn’t feel like moving,” the changeling cooed. “Your body’s just so warm...”

“Mmm,” three other voices agreed, their murmurs accompanied by their owners opening their own eyes. “Morning, Spike.”

“Morning, ladies,” he said.

Eutropia rolled her eyes. “If we’re going to get any training done, we need to start early. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to be borrowing your husband for a bit: testing him out on the easy stuff before the real training begins.”

“Easy?” Trixie mumbled, pressing herself against Spike in a half-hearted attempt to sit up. “Spike’s been through trouble before, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle... except for Istanbul, of course.”

“I know, but from what you’ve all told me, that was from him using his heritage to “augment” what little training he has,” the griffin replied as the others slowly rose. “You told me Princess Luna took him under her wing and put him through a rigorous training regime, but it seems to me that she left combat out.”

“Well, that’s because she wanted me to be a scholar, not a warrior,” Spike replied. “Though, yeah, I can definitely remember where some lessons in fighting would have come in handy.”

“Then get up, I’d rather not have to use up more of my time than necessary,” Eutropia said. “Besides, I’m sure the Tsar has stuff planned for you today, and I’m not going to be the one telling him that his guest can’t make it because he decided to put off his training until suppertime.”

“I wouldn’t do that...” Spike trailed off as his family grumbled and crawled out of bed. “At least not intentionally.”

“Where is this training going to be?” Asalah asked, rubbing her eyes as she yawned.

“When one of the maids came by to change my bedpans, I asked her if there were any big, open places we could use, and she told me that the ballroom’s usually empty during the day, so, I figure, why not there?” Eutropia said, averting her eyes as Spike climbed out of bed.

“Did she tell you how to get there?” Spike asked, dressing as quickly as he could.

Later...

“See? Told you I’d find it,” the griffin said with a grin as she and Spike entered the ballroom. Gilded, golden arches seemed to grace every contour of the room, from floor to the ceiling, upon which many frescos were painted of either religious figures or defining moments in Russian history. Amber-clad doorways, marble busts of likely famous or previous Tsars and Tsarinas, and even more red velvet curtains. The floor looked smooth enough to skate on, the polished stone glinting readily in the early morning rays of the sun.

“Yeah, but it took more than half an hour,” Spike said, his family following behind them. A maid told them on the way there that the Tsar was out on some sudden business, so breakfast won’t be served until after they return.

“Not my fault this place is so huge,” Eutropia said with a shrug.

“You could’ve just asked for directions,” he added. “We passed no less than six maids, not including the one who told us about breakfast. Why didn’t you ask any of them?”

“Why didn’t you?” The griffin countered.

“Oh, well, I assumed... I mean... I meant...” the dragon trailed off, his speech failing him. Why hadn’t he asked them? Did he just not want to bother them or something?

“That’s what I thought,” Eutropia said, moving out into the middle of the floor. “Come now, let’s begin. I’d prefer to eat breakfast after working up a good hunger, so build me up an appetite, if you please.”

“That’s an odd way to look at it,” Spike said as his family went and sat on a few velvet-lined benches near the far wall, likely meant for guests who grew too tired of dancing at a ball.

“Do you see any significant fat deposits on me?” The griffin countered. “I work to keep myself in shape, and sometimes I like to overindulge on food. So I’d like to have a reason to do so this morning.” She gestured towards him, her feet apart as she moved into a ready stance. “Come now, give me your best shot.”

“Alright,” Spike said with a shrug. He rushed her and threw a punch, straight for one of her shoulders.

Before he knew it, he was flat on his back, wheezing as a small indent in the shape of Eutropia’s foot disappeared from his chest scales.

“Missed,” she replied, still in her stance, somehow, and not a feather out of place. “Come, try again.”

Spike rose back to his feet and threw another punch, this one for her head. He watched in shock as time seemed to slow down, and with nary any effort, the griffin cocked her head to the side, easily avoiding the blow. Slowly, yet still far too quickly for his liking, Spike watched as her arm moved up underneath his, lifting it up and away from her. Her other fist came around and slammed into his other shoulder, knocking him off balance and sending him spinning away from her.

“Did I miss something?” Chrysalis asked, unfortunate enough to have blinked during the ‘altercation.’ “Why is Spike facing away from her now, and several feet away?”

“Try not to close your eyes all that often, or you’ll miss the action,” the blue unicorn replied, fascinated with how quickly the griffin could move. “Eutropia really knows her stuff. I’m just hoping she won’t be too hard on him; this is his first time fighting without just unleashing his inner beast.”

“Come on, try again, Spike,” Eutropia said, watching him turn around with a look of disinterest on her face. “Those stories weren’t just stories, were they?”

Spike swept at her with his tail, which she easily jumped over. One of his feet came up in a kick, aimed for her waist, but she not only handily caught it in both hands, she merely had to give it a slight shove for him to lose balance, making him fall right on his scaly butt.

“I told you this wouldn’t be easy,” she continued, watching as he rose to his feet once more. “I’ll give you a couple more tries, then it will be my turn, okay? Come at me with all you got.”

“Okay, I guess,” Spike replied, perplexed by her behavior. She was making him look like a fool with ease, and even though he was definitely holding back, he wondered if he even needed to. Yet, even as he thought this, the memory of what he did to those bandits in the desert flashed across his retinas...

Yes, best to hold back from that, just to be safe. Making a sweeping motion, Spike rushed the griffin and aimed for a downward blow with one open palm, while the other, balled into a fist, rushed directly towards the griffin’s ribcage...

...only to find that the griffin wasn’t there. Spike did, however, feel her body collide with his: her form having snaked its way through his two-pronged assault and directly next to him. Now, in a fight, Spike remembered Luna telling him, if you find yourself against a stronger but slower opponent, keep your foe as close as you can and you’re much more likely to win than if you keep them distant, especially if they have more reach. Close up, it is harder for them to use their full strength against you, especially if you’re the faster of the two.

Turns out, in this situation, he was the one with the larger and slower reach, and before he could react, he felt one of her elbows slam itself into his gut, and one of his legs getting kicked out from under him. In mid fall, his arms flailing wildly, he saw and felt her foot spin around and connect with his thigh, sending him spinning in mid-air, onto the ground.

Landing with a thud on his back, his wings flattened beneath him like a robe, Spike looked up to see the griffin standing over him, hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side, as if in amusement. The small smile on her beak confirmed that idea.

“Oh, I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?” She asked, her tone just a few sarcastic vowels away from full-blown mockery. She really knew how to tread the line, didn’t she? “Up and at ‘em, Spike, I’m starting to feel a bit peckish, but we’ve still got a ways to go.”

“Don’t get your feathers in a huff, I’m trying my best,” Spike said, not sure why he said that as he rose to his feet. Making a crack like that was likely not a good way to earn brownie points with her, even though he barely managed to restrain himself from making some comment linking her “peckish” nature with her beak. It sounded better in his head, but probably wouldn’t be the same on the outside, where she could-

His line of thought was interrupted as she swept her arms outwards, driving him away from his torso, and in a barrage of moves he almost couldn’t keep track of, she struck him across the stomach and chest with open palms, each hammering blow knocking him off balance bit by bit. Then, in another flurry, both palms were shoved into his shoulders, causing him to stumble backwards and fall right onto his scaly butt once again.

Dazed and confused, he shook his head like a dog with water in its ears before looking up to see Eutropia’s smirk continue to grow, her arms crossed across her chest in a victorious pose.

Spike huffed and puffed as he rolled over, clambering back up to his feet. ‘Okay, I’ll try and block now,’ he thought, putting himself in a defensive stance. Sure, she could guess his attacks, as he wasn’t as well trained like her, but surely he could at least predict a few of hers... right? After all, he built a lot of what he knew on being unpredictable: from his reaction to Chrysalis’ identity to his methods in helping Mehmed find love. Speaking of which, he’d have to remember to write back to the young prince, and see how he was doing; he liked the guy.

“Operative word is ‘try’ there,” the griffin said, readying her stance once more, as her words brought him out of his thoughts. “Not going to go too easy on you, just so you know.”

“I thought you were going easy on me,” the dragon muttered. “It’s not like haven’t been trying to-,”

Her open palm seemingly phased through his arms and slammed into his chest with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs and send him skidding backwards. Thankfully, this time, he shot his tail out behind him, the large spade-shaped end acting as a support to prevent him from falling straight down. Still, maybe it was better he had, as she moved towards him without breaking her stride, her face determined and focused solely on him.

The next blow was both of her hands slamming into his head, the force just light enough not to hurt too badly, but still more than enough to make it feel like his head was a rattling maraca. Dazed, he could barely register the next pair of blows, both knocking his arms to the side, followed by a pair of strikes right into the stomach and ribs. It was likely enough to bruise, but clearly not enough to break anything important; so, thankfully, she was still holding back, but it still hurt.

Wheezing, blinking as colors swirled in his vision, and feeling like his body was being put through several wringers, Spike briefly noticed a movement in his vision as the griffin’s next move involved a pair of spinning kicks to his legs, the blows short but with enough force to nearly make his knees buckle. Then, with a confident smirk on her face, the griffin merely placed a finger on his forehead and dragged it downward to his nose, the friction pulling his gaze down as well.

“Training is over, time for breakfast,” she said simply, slightly out of breath but none the worse for wear. With that, she simply pressed down slightly harder onto his nose.

Spike immediately felt as if he’d been under the hooves of an entire herd of stampeding bison, or maybe in a wrestling match with five brass knuckle-wielding manticores. So, groaning, he tumbled forward, slouching onto the ground in a quivering mass, his tail and wings sticking straight up into the air. He knew that, as sore and uncomfortable as he felt right now, he was going to be so sore the next morning that he’d likely be lucky to even get out of bed of his own free will. His own body would probably just say, “screw that, stay right here”, even if there was something he needed to do.

“He’s all yours, ladies,” Eutropia said, walking away. Spike didn’t even have the energy to look up as four sets of hoofsteps walked over to his side.

“Are you okay, Spike?” Maria asked. She didn’t sound all that worried, but then again, maybe she was, but it was being suppressed by an occasional snicker. He looked rather silly laying there, even though she was more concerned with checking his pulse than berating him for his performance.

“How’d I do?” The dragon mumbled against the floor, the shiny surface cool to his face. “Is Eutropia okay?”

“You didn’t even lay a finger on her,” Asalah said with a hint of awe in her voice. “I’ve only ever seen somepony move that fast when you slew those bandits back in the desert. You blink and you’d miss it.”

“But that was a wild, nearly uncontrollable rage,” Chrysalis said as she gently rolled him over and began to help him up with her magic. “This was something else entirely. She took you apart, seemingly without effort. Were you even trying to hit her?”

“Well, yes, but not all the way, you know?” He muttered as he felt Trixie’s magic join Chrysalis’ in supporting him. “Didn’t want to try and really lay into her, what with me usually just using my heritage to full effect.”

“Well, even if you had, you’d have probably been beaten just as handily, or at least, we’d have had to intervene,” the blue unicorn said, pressing her soothing fingers into the portions of his body that felt somewhat liquefied. “I’m not feeling like anything’s broken; just probably bruised here or there at the worst. Does anything really hurt where I press?”

“No, nothing’s broken, or else I think you’d know. Anyways, I hope none of it swells up too much, or else the Tsar might start wondering what kind of guests he really has,” the dragon muttered with a chuckle, which quickly turned into a half-choking groan. “Oh, wow, I feel so bad right now.”

“Bad as in “I’m in pain,” or “man, I wasn’t expecting that”?” Chrysalis asked.

“More the second than anything, with a bit of “what was I thinking” and “better not ever make that griffin mad” thrown in for good measure,” the dragon replied, just as another form entered his vision. It was the maid from before, the one he could’ve asked for directions from, but hadn’t.

“Breakfast is served, sir,” she said with a quick bow. “I trust you all know how to reach the dining hall?”

“Is it the same room as where last night’s supper was?” Maria asked.

“Yes,” the maid replied. “I must be going, so I leave you to your own devices.” With that, she scurried off just as Eutropia walked up, her slightly erratic breathing having returned to normal, though the smirk remained plastered on her beak. Spike felt the slight urge to try and punch it off her face, but feared that it might just result in her kicking him into the air and body slamming him into the ground, or a wall, or out a window or something, so he squashed the idea just as quickly as he thought of it.

“Ready to go?” She asked. “Or do you want to spar a little more?”

“No more, no more!” Spike nearly shouted in a sudden panicky feeling before he coughed and quickly regained his composure. “Um, no, no thank you, Eutropia. Let’s go to breakfast, I’m sure some food would do me some good right about now. That, or sitting down at a table and not moving at all for a bit; I wonder if they have any gems?”

Chrysalis shrugged as Asalah looped one of the dragon’s arms over her shoulder to help carry him. “Maybe, maybe not; it all depends on who’s running those kitchens.”

“I guess I’ll just have to ask,” Spike said as they left the ballroom behind. He was pretty sure there were bits of scales left in there somewhere from all those strike, but then again, that was probably just his imagination. It wasn’t like Eutropia was striking him hard enough to do any real damage... right?

Well, regardless of how handily she beat him, or how sore he was already feeling, Spike did feel like he’d already made some progress. If he could learn to take a beating, then he could learn to dish it out, probably tenfold. Sure, it stood to reason that it’d take longer for him to learn how to return the favor, but hey, they had time to spare; a good week in fact, and besides, she could help train him as they made their way to China.

Still, something occurred to him long ago, in Baghdad, but only just recently did he rediscover the train of thought. He’d have to pass through the realm of Persia, and, from there, move through the lands of the Marengols. Now, call him crazy, but he was sincerely hoping that he wouldn’t have to come across any armies while he was passing through, seeing as he’d been told that the empire was at war with countless rivals and smaller principalities. But his foremost concern was just getting to China, and then from there to Japan, where his family could rest and relax for the majority of the winter, while he continued on his way to India and back. The biggest thing was getting through the Marengolian realm without being imprisoned for some reason, or worse, forcefully invited to the court of the Khan.

In lieu with that last part, the absolutely last thing he needed while passing through there, was for an ultra-militaristic, highly-trained, and very mobile warrior nation to be hot on his heels, should the Khan’s daughter fall in love with him, or something, and he rejects her. He wasn’t even sure if such a scenario would happen, but given what already happened in his life so far, Spike wouldn’t put it past his fate to try and pull a stunt like that on him more than once. He’d gotten extremely lucky with Asalah, in more ways than one, but with that kind of scenario... it wasn’t likely to end well for anyone, himself included.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, and the aching feeling in his body that seemed to seep into his very bones, that Spike only now realized that he and the others had entered the dining hall, and across from his chair sat the Tsarina, her children nowhere to be seen. As if reading his surprised and inquiring expression, she simply smiled back at him.

“They have already eaten and are with their tutors for their morning lessons, though for tomorrow’s breakfast, they will likely be joining us,” she said. “Please, sit; make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Asalah said as she gently lowered Spike into his chair, taking the seat next to him. “I must say, it all smells delicious.”

“Well, then you’ll have to thank the chef, sometime. She’s almost always spot-on with her dishes,” Alexandra said. “I say “almost” because you can’t please every guest all the time, but I have never had a dish of hers that I didn’t like, which is likely why she’s been on the staff for so long. It is usually customary to replace many of the staff whenever a new Tsar comes to power, but she was hand-picked by Nicholas’s grandfather, and rehired by his own father, so it stood to reason that she would be picked again when my husband came to power. At least, that’s how he put it: maybe it’s simply the fact that he’s known her for all of his life.”

“She sounds like quite the pony,” Chrysalis said as they ate.

“Oh, but she’s not a pony,” the Tsarina said with a smile. “She is, what I believe you call, a Diamond Dog?”

“She is?” Spike asked. “I wouldn’t have thought they’d live above ground.”

“Oh, most do, at least in realms where the soils make for poor subterranean dwellings,” she replied. “Come to think of it, she told me their history is more or less complicated with many disputes with surface dwellers, with dogs like her being more apt to mingle with the likes of us. I have heard from some that dogs dwelling underground are often distrusting of strangers and view many outsiders with suspicion. After all, I’ve always just assumed that those who live above ground are just easier to get along with, what with being in contact with non-dogs much more often.”

“Having met some underground ones many years ago, I’d like to think that’s a reasonable assumption,” Spike said, the memory bubbling to the surface of his mind. Yeah, they hadn’t been all that friendly, or clean, or well-spoken, or even that smart. Try as he might to think otherwise, Spike had always assumed, based off that experience, that all Diamond Dogs were like that. Rather bigoted of him, to be sure, but he’s had no reason to think otherwise... until now, at least.

“Well, then you’ll have to meet her, sometime,” Alexandra said. “I’m sure she’d love to meet a sky dragon such as yourself, even though I’m sure she’s met ice dragons before. She spends most of her time in the kitchens or in a small room to herself in the lower levels, but seeing as she is also in charge of the meals served to the Tsar and the members of the council, my guess is that she will be heading there after we are finished with breakfast. Or perhaps sooner; she really doesn’t keep much of a schedule other than when she is told to.”

“This council, I’d like to hear more about it,” Maria said. “It sounds like quite the endeavor, given how much I can tell your nation relies on tradition. My own country has many such time-honored practices, though from what I now see, many are far more recent developments, compared to yours.”

“Oh, it is indeed quite the change of pace, but personally, I find it a breath of fresh air,” the empress said. “The founding of the council and what will come with it will truly change things in Russia. It distributes more duties to the elected, making my husband’s life all the easier, which means he can spend more time with his family and meet with foreign dignitaries. That, and more importantly, it helps to bring to light issues that might have been overlooked in favor of other more important-seeming ones. This way, our country can begin to develop and progress towards a much better future, both for itself and for its citizens.”

“Do you have any examples?” Asalah asked.

“Well, for starters, you know that Nicholas’ grandfather abolished serfdom,” the empress replied. “True, our country had been built on it, but the rest of the world was leaving us behind, so he thought we should advance ourselves, if only to keep up. He became known as the “Great Emancipator”, as it was. Not having been alive when it was in place, I cannot understand it to its entirety, but from what Amber Faye has informed me, the lives of the lower classes under serfdom were basically like those of slaves. You are your master’s property, only instead of freely being bought and sold, you are tied to the land on which you reside, for better or for worse, with a large portion of all food you grow, metal you mine, or lumber you harvest being sold for your master’s gain.”

“That sounds... awful,” Chrysalis and Spike said in unison. Having both come from portions of the world where slavery had not only not existed for a very long time, but was viewed as outright evil, to think such things had existed in living memory in the house of their host was... chilling.

“From what Amber Faye has told me, it truly was,” Alexandra said with a sigh. “Some of the more... nostalgic nobility still treat those living on their lands like little more than property, though in subvert manners. The times have changed, so it is no longer considered to be good sport to simply beat a lower class citizen for getting in the way of your carriage, or to simply have your guards seize their crops in times of hardships. That was how many a revolt began in our nation’s history.”

“That’s despicable on so many levels,” Trixie said, scowling as the words seemed to play over in her head. “How could anypony live with themselves, doing such awful things? Why would anypony do that to begin with?”

“It was what they believed they could do, what they believed their power allowed,” the Tsarina said simply. “Thankfully, some of the old ways, like these ideas, are dying out, though not rapidly enough for my husband, you see. To him, if he could, he would sever all ties with the undesirable aspects of our nation’s history. Strange, too, considering that he was not always like that.”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked.

“Well, when he first took the reign of Tsar, he wanted to keep much of it the way it was,” Alexandra said simply. “A large, monarchic, autocratic government, ruling a vast lower class, as it had been for centuries. However, that dragon we told you about? The one who had advised both his father and grandfather? It was he who convinced Nicholas to examine his heart and look to the future, far past his own reign. Maybe it was then, one night in December I think, that he realized that Russia would have to change, or all would fall apart. Our kind have always needed to balance the power we yield and the riches we have with the needs of our citizens and the safety of all under our rule. That is why, I believe, the real thanks for what has been happening should go to that wise old dragon who showed us what could happen if we continued on Nicholas’s father’s original course.”

“Sounds like quite the far-sighted fellow,” Chrysalis said. “As for Nicholas, I take it he took the dragon’s teachings to heart, but how did he show you?”

“It was simple, really,” Alexandra replied. “He brought with him an old soothsayer. I’ve quite forgotten her name, as it was so many years ago, but she showed us in a great cloud of smoke what would befall us should we continue as we were going to. Suffice to say, it was... terrible. Shocked us to the core, really; I’ll spare you the details.”

“Sounds exactly like something I wouldn’t want to hear, if it could completely change the viewpoint and purpose of an emperor,” Eutropia said, speaking for the first time during the meal. “I mean, all that power at his disposal, with little to challenge him, and all it took was a vision of the future to change his mind? I’d say your husband has more common sense than most would in his position.” She didn’t need to add that those in such positions of power often become irreversibly corrupted by it, to the point where eventually all they seek is more power” her mother’s history lessons, while harsh, had been evidence enough of her own nation’s struggles with such powerful leaders.

“Yes, I’d like to think so,” the Tsarina said as they finished eating, servants springing out of the woodwork once more to take away their empty plates. “Now then, if you all would like to get yourselves ready, the schedule for today is rather light, but if you wish to meet Mrs. Faye, then I suggest you hurry, Sir Spike.”

“Just Spike is fine, your highness,” the dragon said with an admonishing wave. “I’m only technically a “sir” in Prance. You said that soon after breakfast she’d likely be headed to the council, yes?”

“Indeed. I believe she enjoys being there, if only for the conversation. You wouldn’t believe how much nobles will tell a little old diamond dog cook; they likely think she’s slow or something, which I believe to be the exact opposite of the truth.”

“Well, would you happen to know somepony who could take me there? Not as an escort, per se, but more as a guide? I’d hate to get lost in the city, especially if it’s far from the palace.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Alexandra replied. “I will send for one as soon as I can. In the meantime, I’ll see to the children and make sure they have been behaving themselves. Will any of you be joining Spike in his tour of the Council?”

“I’m surprised you’ll be going anywhere, what with the beating you took during our sparring session,” Eutropia said, her smirk as smug as could be.

“Hey, what can I say? It’s hard to keep a good dragon down,” Spike replied with a shrug, which he immediately regretted, the slowly-forming bruises underneath his scales sending tiny messages of “don’t do that again” from all over his body. Maybe a jaunt over to meet this Amber Faye would be good for him, or at least it’d be a good excuse from Eutropia possibly dragging him into another round of training. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to move for a few days if that happened.

“I’d like to, but, for now, I think I’d prefer to stay in our room,” Trixie said. “I just can’t help feel the urge to relaaaaax.”

“I can get behind that,” Chrysalis said. “Lounging about, doing nothing all day? Sounds great to me, after being on the move constantly for some time.”

“Me too,” Maria said. “What about you, Asalah?”

“I think I’d rather go over some things with Eutropia,” the zebra said. “Would you mind that, my dear?”

“Of course not,” the griffin said as the Tsarina stood up from the table. As if on cue, several servants seemingly materialized out of thin air behind her, and began to clear said table of the remnants of their breakfast.

“Then it is settled,” Alexandra said. “Spike, if you would be so kind as to get dressed for a walk, I will have Dimitri escort you. I believe you two have met, correct?”

The dragon wracked his brains for a moment, a rather jovial captain coming to mind. “Oh, yes, Dimitri,” he said. “We met him when we arrived with Ebony Blade.”

“Ah, indeed,” the Tsarina said. “Once you are ready, he will meet you at the main doors.”

Spike was annoyed as he made his way down the main hall to meet with the guard captain, who was patiently waiting for him. He was annoyed not because he was early, or that Dimitri was late: no, the fact that he had taken so long to get ready for just a quick jaunt over to the Council chambers just rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t want to make this guard think he was some lazy slob who took as long as he liked, but then again, Dimitri was undoubtedly used to such behavior from royalty and the Tsar’s visitors.

The dragon could only hope that he wouldn’t be lumped into such a category.

“Sir,” the captain said with a polite nod, his uniform as colorful and crisp as ever.

Spike wondered if the suit was enchanted to remain as crisp and clean as possible at all times, but surely not, seeing as he’d seen few unicorns since he arrived... right? “Thank you for waiting, sorry I was late,” the dragon mumbled, feeling embarrassed at how calm and polite Dimitri’s demeanor was. “I got caught up in some things.”

“It is neither my business nor my wish to know what happened, but with four wives and an ill-tempered tag-along, I am sure it was quite something,” the captain said.

Spike blinked in surprise. “How did you-,”

“My friend, there are eyes and ears everywhere in the palace, and despite what you and the griffin might have thought, you were being watched in the ballroom. Unintentionally, I assure you, and by no means as an act of espionage or skullduggery: simply somepony witnessing your little sparring match.”

The stallion motioned, and with mighty heaves, a pair of very large guards, burly as bears and likely as strong, opened the doors for them, and as a rush of cool air swept past them, Spike followed the captain out of the palace and into the city of Marescow.

“So, um... what did you hear, exactly?” The dragon asked as they walked, his mind drifting slightly as the streets they traversed seemed nothing like what he and his family had been down before. They were filled with all sorts of ponies and other species, but everyone seemed far less hurried than back in Istanbul, or even Baghdad. More smiles, more friendly waving, chatting groups clustered around buildings, more just... camaraderie, although Spike wasn’t sure that was the right word to use. It was like it was a good time to be alive for all, and given the way everyone was during the parade, and with what he had learned about the Tsar’s many reforms, this was perhaps a physical representation of the direction Russia was headed.

“Not much, but then again, from what I heard, your fight wasn’t much of one,” Dimitri said with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I got my ass handed to me.”

“Oh, from what I heard, I think that’d be putting it lightly,” the captain said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Learning to fight is much like learning to swim for the first time: just jump right into it, with proper supervision, of course.”

“Yeah, but instead of being supported by someone until I get the hang of it, I get chewed up and spit out by a griffin with a cultural inclination towards not-liking dragons,” Spike replied, feeling no need to point out that “not liking” was probably giving Eutropia’s cultural heritage too much credit.

“Oh,” Dimitri replied. “Well, I always knew that those south of us had problems in the past with dragons, more so than our areas have. Perhaps it is the colder weather, no? Ice dragons prefer it as such, but other dragons, while it does not affect them as much, prefer warmer climates. It must be the dreariness of the long-lasting winter; only the fittest and most stubborn can eke out a livelihood in such a landscape.”

“How long does winter last, up here?” Spike asked as they passed what looked to be a church of sorts. The golden bulbous spires, interlaced with wondrously alternating colors, really made it stand out from the rest of the city. That, and all the statues and metalwork adorning seemingly every surface.

“Well, it really varies in temperature and the amount of snowfall, depending on where in Russia you happen to be,” the captain said. “Here in Marescow, for example, winter usually lasts from November to nearly April.”
“That’s nearly half the year! No wonder I saw so many farm fields on my way here,” the dragon replied. “You’d have to be crazy to try and feed this city and the surrounding territories if everything were just forest or open plains.

“Yes, and even then, we still have problems,” Dimitri said. “Some of our soils are the most fertile in the world, and other places are terrible for most foodstuffs. Add to the fact that some of our regions have growing seasons that last only about four months, it quickly becomes rather evident just how much the many poorer regions of our nation depend on imports. Thankfully, though, the Tsar has recently signed several agreements with neighboring countries, exchanging their excess food for much in the way of natural resources; iron, wood, wool, along with many others. It didn’t take the Council long to approve such measures, but, then again, much money is to be made from trade, and many have connections that can bring them great wealth with these new deals.”

“Sounds to me like Nicholas really wants this new vision of his empire to come to fruition,” Spike said. “By the way, at this Council... are there any unsavory characters that I should be aware of?”

“Why do you ask?” The captain questioned as a large group of youngsters, mostly composed of ponies, but a few griffins, and diamond dogs were here and there, passed them by, trailing after a rather haughty-looking minotauress, dressed in a strange collection of robes.

“I’ve been in several royal courts since I’ve left home, and while none of the ones I’ve been in have been outright bad, I’ve always felt there were parts of them that I haven’t been exposed to: the seedy underbelly of royalty and politics,” the dragon said as they passed by a pair of what Spike could only assume were Naga. Why these snake-beings were here in Russia, of all places, was beyond him, and the only reason he knew they were Naga was was because no other creature needed to carry that much fur on their bodies to stay warm. Then again, they were likely going off to brumate somewhere, likely in a basement of a friend’s house.

“Well, not really, seeing as the meeting might be over and done with by the time we get there,” Dimitri said, motioning to a large gray building not far from their current location. It was low to the ground but very wide, with an almost reinforced look to its uppermost dome, and had guards patrolled all around, with quick and efficient marching one might add. All in all, it really did look like a government building, but with a far more foreboding tone than Spike ever saw when he was in Canterlot. “The meetings sometime take only an hour, but there have been some that took well over three days to finish.”

“Well then, I guess we’d better hurry,” Spike said as the two of them slightly picked up the pace, the slight smile on the dragon’s face growing a bit more with every step. “It’s not every day that I get to look in on how an empire is run.”

Author's Notes:

Well, now this is getting good, indeed. Spike is off to properly meet a Diamond Dog for the first time, we see now why the Tsar is likely helping along all these reforms, and Eutropia shows she can kick some major ass.

All righty then: also, this chapter was going to be longer, but I realized that in order to give it the detail it deserved, and to properly introduce those that would be in it, I saw that I couldn't do that and all that I just did in one single chapter. So, I've split it, and the next one will detail what this one would have at the end.