Thorax's day had been dull, until he heard the cries for help coming from the top of the hive.

They grew louder as Thorax raced through the tunnels, hooves sloshing through the mucosal discharge that coated so many of the hive's surfaces – a deterrent against both invasion, and unwanted houseguests. It wasn't until he'd neared the top, however, that they grew distinct. What had been incoherent wails, echoing through the hive, sharpened into two distinct voices.

"Last warning! You're not welcome here, so turn around and go, before I get violent!"

"Oh, please, please get violent! Two minutes, I've known you, and I'm already itchin' for an excuse to rearrange your face!"

One was Pharynx. The other made his heart leap – equal parts excitement, and anxiety. Thorax swallowed, and galloped faster.

Thorax finally burst into the chamber at the top of the castle. The place was a disaster zone, strewn with rocky rubble, some of which had smashed a table and scattered a tea set. In the middle of the room was Pharynx – legs spread, wings flared, horn bared and glowing – and behind him was a line of changelings, cowering and holding one another.

Opposite Pharynx, and somehow managing to match the sheer malice Thorax had come to expect from his brother, was an incensed Dragon Lord Ember, fists balled, wings spread, and wisps of pinkish fire trailing intermittently from her nostrils. Behind her was the hive wall, sporting a hole that was suspiciously proportionate to her body.

Immediately, Thorax grinned. "Ember! Over here!"

Ember's fists relaxed at the sound of Thorax's voice – one of them did, anyway; there was something clutched in her left. She turned away from Pharynx to regard her friend. "There you are. You wanna tell me what this is all about?"

Thorax blinked, and glanced between his brother and his friend. "Uh... I think someone should catch me up, before I even try figuring out what you're referring to."

Pharynx snarled, jabbing a hoof toward Ember angrily. "This crazy dragon bitch launched a surprise attack on the hive – smashed through the wall like it was paper mache. No warning, no nothing, just swooped right in and––"

"Ruined our tea party!" wailed one of the changelings behind Pharynx.

Pharynx made a face and shook his head. "Yeah, so, I guess I'm more angry about it in principle than in practice."

Thorax looked at Ember, glancing quickly at the hole in the wall, and raised an eyebrow. "Is that true, Ember?"

"I mean..." Ember relaxed, planting her hands on her hips, half-frowning. "You can't really pin the tea party thing on me. The wall, yeah, I'll cop to that, but there's a hundred different ways that tea party could've gotten wrecked."

"She has a point," one of the less distraught changelings pointed out. "Just because she broke through the wall immediately before the tea party got wrecked, doesn't mean she was responsible for that happening."

"You were there when it happened, Incisor!" snapped Pharynx, leveling a cold-eyed glare at his hivemate. "You were the one who told me that the debris from her flying through the wall was what broke the stupid table!"

Incisor's ears wilted. "I'm only saying, correlation doesn't equate causation..."

"Alright, alright, we're getting off track here," Thorax said quickly, stepping between his brother and Incisor. "Ember? Could you explain why you felt the need to smash through the hive wall?"

"Uh, because I was in a rush?" Ember uncurled her left fist, and dropped a crumpled piece of paper at Thorax's hooves. "Needed to get an explanation for that, couldn't find the front door, didn't feel like looking, decided to make one instead."

Thorax unfolded the paper, and read it, as Pharynx devolved into outraged sputtering.

To Lord Ember, sovereign ruler of the Dragon Lands, I, Thorax of the changelings, humbly extend this––

Thorax brightened. "Oh! You got my invitation!"

"Invitation?" Ember pointed at the piece of paper floating in front of Thorax's face. "That's what that was?"

Thorax nodded eagerly.

"...Oh." Ember's arms went limp. Then she shrugged. "Well, no harm no foul, I guess."

Pharynx bristled. "You punched a hole in the––"

"Pharynx?" Thorax interrupted. "I think it's safe to say that this was all just a misunderstanding. Let's clear the room, and the three of us can sort it all out? Sound good?"

"That... sounds..." Pharynx made a strangled, angry noise in his throat, but he relented, sagging, and turned away. "Alright, party's canceled, show's over. Off you go."

He ushered the other changelings down the tunnel, and out the chamber, even as Incisor protested: "B-But, the tea party––"

"You hold a tea party every day, Incisor. Cripes." He sent a withering look toward Thorax. "And don't think we're not talking about this later. You should've told me you were inviting a frickin' dragon into the hive, bro."

As Pharynx led them away, Thorax approached Ember, still holding the letter in his grip. "So... you didn't read the letter, didja?"

"Couldn't read it," Ember said, shrugging. "It showed up a little while ago, y'know, but I couldn't make heads or tails of anything it said. Smelled like bug-horse, though, meaning it probably came from you, so I thought I'd fly over here, and get you to read it to me. Honestly, I wasn't even mad, until that guy made a big deal out of the whole wall thing."

Thorax glanced at Pharynx over his shoulder – the other changelings were gone, and Pharynx was returning to the conversation. "Yeah... he's, uh, he's got his own way of doing things. He's not a bad guy at all, I promise."

"You know, I really wish you'd stop saying that to everyone. Totally kills my non-conformist mystique," said Pharynx, smugly smirking. "So. Ember. As in, the famous Dragon Lord Ember, I presume. What kind of Dragon Lord doesn't know how to read, huh?"

"Uh... the regular kind?" Ember cocked her hip and planted her hand on it, glaring down at Pharynx. "It's just not the kind of thing dragons usually worry about. Pretty sure Spike's the only literate dragon in the world. Literate changelings, though – how does that happen?"

Thorax shrugged. "It's something a lot of us tended to pick up, back when we did things the old way – Chrysalis's way, I mean. Impersonating ponies, infiltrating their society – you gotta learn to read to fit in better."

"Yeah," Pharynx added. "Chrysalis once had me impersonate a Canterlot pharmacist for two weeks, back when we were still gathering intel for the invasion. I got really good at reading and writing, from doing all the prescriptions, see."

"You were a pharmacist?" said Thorax. "I never knew that about you. Seems like a bad fit."

"Ugh, it was awful." Pharynx shuddered. "I made the best of it, though. Like, sometimes, I'd write these phony prescriptions for happy pills and painkillers for ponies who were lookin' for a little something extra, and I'd feed on the euphoria they induced. Tasty stuff, that. And I'd give back alley vasectomies on the side, too – y'know, just as a hobby."

Thorax suppressed most of the resulting shudder, but ripples from it weakened his smile. "Pharynx?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you kindly give Ember and I the room?"

Pharynx blinked, then snorted, sauntering out of the chamber.

Thorax watched him leave, reflecting briefly on how similar his brother and his friend were, in temperament if nothing else. One would think they'd get along better.

Then again, maybe that's precisely why they don't get along...

"Dude's an asshole – might make a good dragon," Ember muttered. She shook her head, then turned to Thorax with a grin. "So! We're hanging out, huh? 'Bout time."

Her enthusiasm was infectious enough for Thorax to let go of any Pharynx-related worries; he drew himself up, and matched Ember's grin with one of his own. "Tell me about it. I've been looking forward to showing you around the hive.  You want the grand tour? We also have a meditation circle, arts and crafts, body painting... it's all pretty great, really."

"Yeah, uh... something tells me that none of that'd really be my thing," Ember said with a chuckle. "Tell you what – how about I take you out for a while, someplace fun?"

Thorax looked at her uncertainly. "Fun by your definition, or by mine?"

"Hopefully both?" said Ember, with a cheeky lilt. She turned toward the hole in the wall, beckoning Thorax to follow.

Thorax watched as she climbed through the hole she'd created, leaping out and taking to the sky. Large, leathery wings beat in powerful strokes to keep her airborne, as she looked through the wall at Thorax.

Thorax sighed, dropped the invitation to the ground, and followed after her.

---

After hours of flight, which saw them leave the continent and pass over the eastern sea, Thorax found himself tired, thirsty, and no closer to any answers. Ember offered no elaboration, only saying that their destination was a surprise, and bidding him to fly faster whenever he fell behind – which was frequently. Ember was simply a better flier than him: faster, stronger, with greater stamina. Thorax found himself lagging farther and farther behind, despite her slowing down to let him keep pace.

Eventually, he stopped altogether, calling out to Ember. "How much farther is it, anyway? Please, tell me we're close."

Ember slowed to a halt and turned in midair, hovering. "Pretty close, actually – an hour out, I think. Less, if you'd just pick up the pace a little."

"Cut me some slack. I'm, ah..." Thorax gestured at his gossamer wings. "Not as well equipped for a flight like this as you are."

Ember rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. Her wings carried her closer to Thorax, and she opened her arms to him. "Climb aboard."

Thorax raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"Climb. Aboard. I'm gonna carry you the rest of the way."

Thorax blushed. "Uh... won't that slow you down?"

"Dude, I could carry ten times your weight, and I'd still move faster than I am right now. So, c'mon." Ember flexed her fingers. "It's only weird if you make it weird."

Thorax hesitated for a moment longer, before lunging into her embrace and folding his wings, sighing with relief as they relaxed. Ember's arms encircled him, cradling him like an infant and clutching him close to her chest.

"Before you ask, no, this doesn't count as a hug," Ember said.

An instant later, Thorax realized just how much Ember had slowed down for his benefit. Her wings snapped, once, and they were off, rocketing forward at speeds Thorax was certain no changeling was ever meant to travel. Terrified out of his wits, he looped his forelegs around Ember's neck, and clung to her for dear life.

He wasn't sure how much time passed during the flight – being terrified out of his wits kept him from counting the minutes as they passed – but, eventually, Ember slowed to a halt and released Thorax from her grip.

"We're here!" she announced, gesturing grandiosely, as Thorax hovered beside her. "Feast your eyes on the island of Minos!"

"Island" seemed to understate the size of the land mass below them. The home of the minotaur race was huge, a chunk of earth in the middle of the ocean whose eastern shoreline was hidden behind a ridge of mountains. The lands in their' shadow were an expanse of brown, streaked with stretches of green forest and clusters of white buildings, poking from the land like flat teeth.

"What do you think?" Ember asked, grinning.

"It's..." Thorax swallowed. "Nice."

Ember's grin wavered. "Just nice?"

"No, I mean – it's beautiful. Looks great, from up here." Thorax looked into Ember's eyes. "I guess I'm just confused about why we needed to come out here to hang out."

"Uh, 'cuz it's awesome?" Ember drawled, as though stating the obvious. "I mean, not all of it is. It's a big island; some places are better than others. The place we're going, though? Super awesome."

She pointed to a spot along the coastline before them: a sprawl of sun-bleached buildings and docked sailing ships, lapped by tongues of white foam.

"That," said Ember, "is the city of Telos. And you're gonna love it. Probably."

She angled her body downward and plunged toward the docks, beckoning Thorax after her.

---

The dock they landed on was worn, and splintered. Thorax was briefly worried that Ember would shatter it upon landing as easily as she did the hive wall, but she slowed her descent just before touching down and alighted gently upon the boards. Thorax followed suit, relief flooding through him as he felt something solid beneath his hooves for the first time in hours.

Ember inhaled deeply, and sighed with relish. "Take a big whiff of that, Thorax. What's that smell like to you?"

He inhaled, and immediately started coughing at the stenches filling his nose. "Salt," he choked out. "And waste run-off."

"Yeah," said Ember lazily. "Isn't it great? C'mon."

The coughing fit passed, and Thorax resolved to breathe through his mouth as much as possible, as Ember led him down the docks. Workers and sailors of all species brushed past them; there were minotaurs, as befitting a minotaur city, but there were ponies, too – unicorns and earth ponies and pegasi, and griffons, and yaks, and zebras running to and fro on the deck of a two-masted ship docked to Thorax's right. The wind-worn and faded name Abalone was stenciled on its bow.

Thorax didn't see any other changelings, or dragons, and as far as he knew, he and Ember were the only members of their kinds in the city. But nobody seemed to find the sight of them all that interesting – though Thorax did catch a weird look from some kind of big, gray, tiger thing in a blue coat as they stepped off the docks and onto dry land.

"I know you were excited to show me the hive," Ember said as she guided him into the city proper. "But, trust me, you're gonna love Telos. This place is great; it's got everything. Food, drink, stuff that you can just take – some of which belongs to people, so the trick is to not get caught doing the taking, but––"

"Yeah, it sounds great," Thorax said, looking over his shoulder at the tiger-thing at the docks. Was he still staring at them? "I'm just... not so sure that it's really my speed. All that stuff you're talking about sounds more like... like, dragon stuff to me."

Ember stopped and turned to Thorax, a little sharply. "Well... I mean, yeah, that's... but there's also stuff that you'd like, too. There's, like... uh, there's...."

Thorax cocked his head quizzically. "Ember?"

She stammered for a moment longer, before giving up and throwing her hands in the air. "Look, just... there's something here for everyone; there's gotta be something for you, right?"

Her reasoning was suspect – was she just thinking in terms of averages? – but Ember seemed so earnest that Thorax couldn't bring himself to let her down. So he forced a happy look, and nodded.

Ember, plainly relieved, smiled. "Alright. Let's hit the town, make some noise, and we'll round out the day at a hair-braiding seminar, or something. Now, c'mon, lemme show you around."

She led him through the city, through winding streets and cramped alleyways, past the minotaurs and ponies and zebras that called the port city home. Away from the docks, the city proper smelled much more pleasant. Floral fragrances and frying food, and the ever-present tang of the sea – less overpowering, the deeper inland one went – blended into an aroma that set Thorax at ease.

"Can't believe how little about this place has changed," said Ember, as they emerged into a market square. Vendors crowded beneath colorful tents, loudly hawking their wares, as shoppers milled about. "Been forever since I've been here, and it's almost exactly the same as it's ever been."

Thorax looked up at her. "You must've spent a lot of time out here, huh?"

"Oh, yeah." Ember smirked at him. "Used to live here, actually."

Thorax balked. "You lived here?"

"Well, not here-here – out in a cave, by the docks, not far from where we landed." They stopped at a bench on the edge of the market; Ember planted her foot on it, leaning back to stretch out her calf. "I was kinda goin' through this rebellious phase. Dragon Lord Dad would summon me, and I'd, like, blow him off, 'cuz I was off doing my own thing. I'd show up whenever I wanted to, and Dad would be pissed off, and I'd be like 'shut up, Dad, I got stuff to do out here; there's boulders to shatter and lava pools to jump into, alright?' Plus, I always thought I looked cooler when I was all glowey – y'know, the way we get when we're summoned?

"Anyway, so, this one time, dad summoned me while I was off fighting some frost wyrm who didn't have the damn decency to die with the rest of his species. And I was like, 'I'm busy, I don't got time for that, and I'll get around to it when I get around to it.' About half a year later, I showed up, and dad wouldn't even tell me what he wanted; he just started yelling at me about what a disrespectful daughter I am, and how even Garble knows to show up when he's summoned, and THAT pissed ME off, because Garble––"

"I don't know who that is."

"Oh, he's like your brother, but without the charm," said Ember, swapping to her other leg and stretching it out. "Anyway, then Dad just outright threatened to pair me up with Garble and have us mate, saying that, if his daughter won't be punctual and do as she's told, then maybe his granddaughter will. So I'm not having that, and I tell him where he can stick it, and I fly away without really knowing where I'm going.

"Eventually, I wound up here. I moved into that cave I told you about. Started raiding the local pirate operation to kill time. I'd go out, board a ship, steal its haul, sink it – I don't think I ever killed anyone directly, but––"

"You spent ten years stealing pirate treasure?" Thorax's jaw dropped. "For fun?"

"Well, it kinda got boring after the first five – after that, I was doin' it more for the hoard than for the fun of it." Ember finished stretching and plopped down onto the bench. "Anyway, eventually, I decided to come home, so I grabbed as much treasure as I could carry, flew back to the Dragon Lands, found Garble, beat the snot out of him, dragged him over to my dad, and said 'Garble's a little bitch, my hoard's bigger than his, and you can't make me mate with him."

Thorax tried to imagine doing something even slightly as audacious as that to Queen Chrysalis, and came up short. "Did it work?"

"Sure did," said Ember, brushing her chest with her knuckles. "Dad agreed, said he wouldn't make me mate with a little bitch like Garble, and promised he'd loosen up with me a bit. And he did."

"That's..." Thorax stared at Ember with an of awe he'd never afforded her before. "I always knew you were strong, and brave, but I had no idea you were so... so..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ember said, in a voice that almost sounded sheepish. "It's not that big a deal."

"Yes! Yes, it is!" Thorax said, poking Ember's shoulder for emphasis. "That story, that stuff you did – heck, standing up to your dad like that? I wish I had, like, a tenth of what it took to do something like that."

Ember's cheeks were pink as she crossed her legs, lacing her fingers together and resting them upon an upturned knee. "But you stood up to your mom, in a much bigger way, didn't you? I mean, you beat Queen Chrysalis and saved Equestria. That took guts."

Thorax's ears folded. "Ah... I mean, I was just there. Starlight and the others did most of the––"

"C'mon, dude. You're being modest – you don't have to be like that with me. Hell, I'll be you have all kinds of cool stories like that, done all kinds of crazy stuff." Ember leaned forward eagerly, eyes shining. "Spill!"

Thorax scratched his cheek nervously. "Uh... well... there was the time the hive sacked Canterlot. I was there for that."

"...Oh." Ember pursed her lips as her face drained of color. "What'd you do?"

"Kinda... nothing." Thorax looked down at his hooves.

"Uh. Neat! Least you didn't... didn't kill any ponies." Ember chuckled weakly. "'Cuz that... that might've made things awkward with Twilight... if you'd killed any ponies..."

She trailed off. Thorax heard her shuffle her body uncomfortably on the bench. The city of Telos continued to bustle around them, as the pair fell into an awkward, dead silence.

One which was broken by Ember snapping her fingers suddenly. "Hey! You know what you need? A snack. Howzabout we get some skewers?"

Thorax looked up at her. "Skewers? Skewers of what?"

"All kinds of things!"

Her answer made Thorax's innards squirm. "That sounds downright, um... exotic... but I think I'm more thirsty than hungry. You know anywhere to get a drink?"

"Even better!" Ember leaped off the bench and hauled Thorax to his hooves. "I know just the place, c'mon!"

Dragging him along by the foreleg, Ember led Thorax through the market square. She stopped at a boxy white building on the far side from the bench, bearing over its entrance, with the bar's name crudely painted in a dozen different languages.

Thorax squinted at it, finding the one rendition of the name he could read. "'The End of the World?'"

"Actually," said Ember, with a hint of Twilight-esque pedantry. "It's called 'The End of All Things.'"

Thorax pointed at the sign. "But the sign says 'The End of the––"

"Y'know what, I get it, okay?" Ember rolled her eyes. "You can read. I can't. Do you have to keep rubbing it in?"

"I wasn't trying to––"

"Dude. Messing with you. Gotta learn to take a joke." Ember playfully punched Thorax's shoulder, and swaggered forward to throw open the door to the bar. "Now, c'mon, lemme buy you a drink."

Thorax stepped up, and peered into the bar. There was a hazy, yellow light inside, obscured by a thick cloud of pungent smoke. Sounds of shouting, of laughter, of breaking glass and cups colliding, issued from the doorway.

He didn't want to go in. But with Ember, standing there, with that same, earnest look on her face...

Thorax nodded, and ducked inside wordlessly.

The sounds and smells he'd caught outside were only a fraction of what The End of the World offered. Pale yellow lamps, visible in the hazy atmosphere like beacons on a foggy night, lit the interior. The lamps were electric, Thorax figured; they gave off no scent of burning wax or oil. The haze, he couldn't figure a source for. Nobody seemed to be smoking.

As with the docks, the bar's patrons represented virtually every species Thorax could think of – and even a few that he didn't recognize. Unicorns drank with zebras, griffons with minotaurs; he saw more of the tiger-things from the port, along with other races he had no name for. In a corner booth, a pink pegasus and a sleepy-looking thestral held a conspiratorial conversation with some kind of bipedal bird in a wide-brimmed, feathered hat.

The door swung shut behind him. Thorax turned to see Ember, smiling confidently at him. She led him toward the bar, where a wiry minotaur stood.

"This was the best watering hole in the city, back when I lived here," said Ember when they reached the bar. "If you're thirsty, then there's no better place to be."

Thorax chose a rickety bar stool with worn, vinyl padding, and gathered himself onto it. "You know, when I said I was more thirsty than hungry, I kinda meant for wa––"

"Hey, barkeep!" Ember called to the minotaur behind the counter, cutting Thorax off. "I'm opening a tab for my friend and I. Been awhile since I've been here, though – you guys still servin' Suicide Shots?"

The bartender snorted a squeaky huff of breath, and ducked beneath the counter, returning with a drinking glass, a green bottle, a vial of something marked with a skull and crossbones, and a jar marked "HCI." Wordlessly, he started mixing them together.

"Suicide shot?" Thorax parroted.

Ember nodded. "Two parts hydrochloric acid, one part cyanide, and a splash of sloe gin. Best drink in the house, provided you're, you know, a dragon. Or if you have a death wish. Although it's probably not the easiest death out there, if you know what I'm saying."

The bartender finished mixing the drink, and set it down in front of Ember carefully. With a devilish look, she lifted it up, and eyed its contents greedily.

Thorax looked, too, albeit more warily than greedily. "Uh, suppose I'm not a dragon and I don't have a death wish."

Ember glanced at him, then shrugged, coming perilously close to spilling a drop of the lethal mixture. "I dunno, dude. Pick your poison. Just, not as literally, I guess."

Acutely aware of the bartender staring at him, Thorax smiled shakily, and cleared his throat. "You don't serve sparkling mineral water, do you?"

The bartender emitted a low, rumbling chuckle, turned to the shelf behind him, and returned with another assortment of bottles. He poured their contents into a glass, stirred it with a spoon with more grease than Thorax would have liked, and dropped a garnish into it – an oblong, magenta cone, which Thorax realized with a sickening lurch was the broken horn of a unicorn. Immediately, the drink started to fizzle; blue sparks danced over its surface, and the horn faintly glowed the same color.

Thorax leaned forward, aghast. "What in the world...?"

"Sparkling mineral water," the bartender intoned. "Tonic and sweet vermouth, garnished with pony horn. Don't throw out pony horn. Need it back, in case anyone else orders bitch drink."

Thorax chose to ignore the "bitch drink" remark. "Where could that horn possibly have come from?!"

"I let you imagine. Don't throw out pony horn." The bartender moved away to serve an incoming patron, leaving Thorax and Ember to their drinks.

"So," said Ember, raising her glass to her lips. "What're we drinking to?"

Thorax stared at his "sparkling water," and ran his tongue over his lips. "I'm... less thirsty than I thought I'd be."

"Seriously?" said Ember, a touch exasperatedly.

Thorax turned to her. "Ember––"

"No, it's fine, it's whatever. I'll drink 'em both. Don't want it to go to waste." She downed her Suicide Shot in a single gulp, slammed the glass back onto the bar, and reached for Thorax's cocktail. She downed it in a gulp, set the glass on the bar, plucked out the still-sparkling horn, and stuck the point between her teeth, picking at them lazily.

"Having fun?" she asked at length, looking at Thorax from the corner of her eye.

"Uh..." Thorax gulped, and forced a smile. "Compared to you, maybe not, but who could match your enthusiasm?"

Ember's eye twitched. She dropped the horn back into the glass, and pushed away from the bar. "Gonna use the pissing ditch. Be right back."

"The what ditch?"

"The pissing ditch. It's a ditch. Out back. For pissing."

Ember shook her head and headed off into the smoke, leaving Thorax aloner. Groaning, he folded his forelegs on the countertop, sinking up to his muzzle, and sighed.

Why does a bar with electricity make its patrons do their business in a ditch, anyway? Where's the indoor plumbing?

Before Thorax could read too deeply into the question, a hand slammed onto the bar beside him. He raised his head, and kept raising it, until he stared up into the yellow eyes of a bipedal gray tiger, twice his height, in a salt-stained blue longcoat.

"Uh... hello there," said Thorax. He peered past the tiger; there were others of his species gathered behind him, all staring at Thorax with looks that were, altogether, rather unpleasant. "You look familiar. Weren't you at the docks just a little while ago?"

"As were you," said the tiger. "With her. The dragon bitch."

Thorax glared, and tried to rise from his stool, but the tiger planted a meaty paw on his shoulder and shoved him back down.

"Don't want you getting up." The tiger narrowed his eyes at Thorax as the others closed ranks around him. "What manner of creature are you, even? You're uniquely hideous – never seen anything like you. Some kind of... deer? With bug wings?"

"Bug deer," one of the tiger's companions suggested. "Must be an Equestrian thing. They got all kinds of crazy things out there; you know that."

"Aye," said the tiger. "But why, I'm wondering, why would the dragon bitch let this thing tag along with her? And buy drinks for it, no less?"

"Okay," said Thorax, plucking up some courage. "You're talking very disrespectfully about my friend, and I don't appreciate it one bit. So, how about you apologize, and we all take a step back, before one of us does something that we all––"

"Shut up," the tiger growled. He glanced at his companions. "What do you think? Take it alive, try to sell it?"

"Could do that," said another of the tigers. "Could just keep it, too."

"And do what with it?" said a third tiger. "Thing like this'd just take up space on the ship. It's tight enough below decks as is."

"Has a point," said the tigers' ringleader. "We'll take it alive if we can, try and sell it later. Clip its wings, hope it can't grow them back."

The bar had grown quiet by then; the sounds of shouting and laughter dulled to nothing. The tension in the room was thicker than the smoke, and almost as easy to choke on. Thorax, gulping, looked toward the bartender.

"You got anything to say about this?" he whispered harshly.

"Must be new here," the bartender drawled. He reached below the counter, and produced a firearm – a long weapon with two barrels. "Alright, you all know the drill. If you're gonna fight, then anything goes, but come near the booze, or the till, and you get two barrels to the face."

Thorax facehoofed. "You're not gonna do anything? Anything?!" he snapped.

"I will if he won't!"

Ember's voice carried through the smoke, cutting through the tension. The tigers parted from around Thorax, their leader stepping forward. He leveled a meaty finger toward Ember, who stood with her fists balled and her wings half-spread.

"You!" the tiger snapped. "Thirty years, I've seen your face, every time I shut my eyes. Thirty years, I've lived my life, wondering if I'll ever get the chance for revenge! And now, here, you return to this city, walk into this bar – of all the places in the world you could have gone! It's almost too contrived to be true."

Ember cocked her head, her intense expression softening with confusion. "Do I know you, pussycat?"

The tiger thumped his chest with his pan-sized paws. "Don't pretend you don't recognize the Dread Pirate Bellicose, Scourge of the Seas!"

Ember shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell, pal. There some reason I should recognize you?"

The Dread Pirate Bellicose, Scourge of the Seas, snarled. "You destroyed me, you dragon bitch! Thirty raiders, I commanded, and a hundred seadogs each! My name struck fear in the hearts of captains from Zebrinnica to Stalliongrad!"

"...And?" Ember said blithely.

"And you ruined me! Burned my ships, stole my treasure, sent my raiders to the briny deep! Every! Single! One! Over ten years!"

"Sent your raiders to the...? Huh." Ember looked past Bellicose, at Thorax. "Okay, but see, I didn't do that directly, so I wasn't lying to you."

"You killed ALL of my people! And ONLY my people!" Bellicose stomped a hind foot, sending a tremor through the floor. "Why? Why only me? Why just my fleet? Why no one else's? What did I ever do to you?!"

"Uh, you had stuff I wanted, first of all," said Ember. "Second, I don't know if you'd believe this or not, but I wasn't going after you, specifically."

"You lie!" Bellicose hissed. "You LIE! Every ship under my command bore my name upon its hull! You must have known – you must have read it, known they were mine!"

Thorax stifled a laugh.

Ember laughed hers openly. "Think whatever you want. Thorax, this guy's lookin' for a fight – I say we give him one. C'mon, we can take them."

Thorax clenched his jaw. "How about we just leave, Ember, before this gets any uglier?"

"What? Dude, weren't you just telling me about how badly you wish you could do crazy stuff like this? Here's your chance, Thorax!"

"Thorax?" Bellicose laughed. "That is a ridiculous name!"

Ignoring the tiger, Thorax pushed away from the barstool and landed on his hooves. "I know what I said before, Ember. And I do wish I was tougher, like you. But I didn't invite you to hang out so that the two of us get into a bar fight with pirates. That's not my idea of a good time!"

"Well, having tea parties in the changeling hive isn't my idea of a good time, either!" Ember snapped back. "So what the hell are the two of us supposed to do when we get together?!"

Bellicose's paw found Thorax's neck, claws extended. "How dare you both ignore me! I have come for revenge, and the two of you will pay me all due––"

With a flash of green light, the top of Thorax's body warped into the form of a disproportionately large, chitinous black dinosaur. He whirled on Bellicose, baring a mouth lined with daggers, and roared. Strands of green saliva whipped from his mouth, slapping across the tiger's face and body.

When it ended, the tiger stood still, his eyes wide and his lips tightly pursed. Another flash, and Thorax was back to normal, turning his back to Bellicose and stomping toward Ember.

"Captain," he heard one of the other tigers whisper. "What are you gonna do? The bar's a tinderbox, and the dragon's gonna get away."

"What am I gonna do?" Bellicose replied. "Save face, that's what."

Thorax heard a meaty slap, and a crunch of breaking bone. A cheer went up throughout the bar, and the sounds of violence filled the space. Punches and bottles and bodies were thrown; cries of pain and triumph echoed everywhere.

Thorax ignored it all as he closed the distance between himself and Ember. The dragon folded her arms and looked away, as a haphazardly flung bottle shattered against her skull. She didn't so much as flinch.

"Okay," said Thorax. He tried to take a deep breath, regretted it when he remembered how choked with smoke the bar was, and fought to regain his breath. "Okay," he repeated, in a scratchier voice. "You don't wanna hang out at the hive, and I don't want to go picking fights across the ocean. I don't see why it has to be one or the other when we hang out.

"Because what else is it gonna be, dude?" Ember cried. She paused briefly to catch another bottle thrown her way and take a pull from it. "You really think your changeling buddies are gonna want me touring the hive after I busted a hole in it? 'Course not – your brother was right; I'm a crazy dragon bitch. They don't want me around! So, what, am I supposed to take you back to the Dragon Lands? If you don't like bar fights with pirates, then just wait until you meet Garble, or some of the other douchebags I'm in charge of!"

"Ember..."

"So if we're gonna hang out, and they don't want me around, and I can't take you back to my place, then what are we supposed to do? Huh?! I like you, Thorax, but let's face it – Spike was right about us! We're complete opposites; we have no common ground when you get right down to it, 'cuz I'm a crazy dragon bitch, and you're a touchy-feely... changeling... bug... guy! How are we supposed to spend any time together by ourselves without one of us getting bored, or pissed off, or – ugh!"

Ember flung her bottle to the floor, the sound of it shattering lost among the dozens of other bottles shattering at that same moment, and turned away from Thorax.

"I can't believe I'm actually talking about feelings," she said. Her voice was strangled. "I took you out here so we wouldn't have to talk about feelings!"

Thorax stepped around Ember, ducking beneath a minotaur flung by the bird with the feathered hat, and looked up into her eyes. "Haven't you learned the importance of communicating clearly with your friends by now?"

Ember rubbed her arm sheepishly.  "Well... yeah, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. It's like pulling teeth, every time."

"Well... you're powering through it, at least. That goes a long way." Thorax paused to fan a hoof in front of his face, wrinkling his muzzle. "I wanna talk about this some more, Ember, but could we do it somewhere else, maybe? This isn't exactly an atmosphere that's conducive to clear communication."

Ember took a look around, at the raging melee, and shrugged. "I guess I see your point. Let's––"

"YOU'RE NOT LEAVING UNTIL I'VE HAD MY REVENGE!"

Captain Bellicose leaped at Ember, claws and teeth bared. He sailed through the air, toward her, as Thorax turned to intercept him.

Ember was faster. With a lash of her tail, she caught the tiger across the cheek, knocking him out of his lunge and sending him crashing through the far wall and out into the street.

"I swear, I have no idea who that guy is," she muttered, dusting her hands off. "Alright, c'mon – place isn't as good as I remember it, anyway."

---

After a quick vertical ascent through the roof, they were in the skies above Minos. Ember faced Thorax with her arms folded, and a look of uncertainty on her face.

"So..." she began. "About those feelings."

Thorax rolled his eyes, and hovered closer to her. "Yeah. About 'em."

Ember sighed and tossed her hands up. "I don't know, dude – it's like, you know I don't really have a lot of friends. I definitely don't have any who I can just go out and do crazy stuff with. Twilight's great, but she's also a Princess; I have to be all political and stuff with her. And Spike – I can't take him someplace like Telos. He's like you, but... even wimpier."

"Thanks," said Thorax dryly.

"You know what I mean," said Ember. "Spike's always talking about how much fun it is to share the stuff you like with a friend, but the stuff I like, I could never drag him into. But you're a little older, and I thought you could handle it better than he could. So, I thought that, maybe, you and me could do something I liked, and... I guess I wound up kinda forcing things a little bit. Didn't really think about how much you'd actually like it. So... I'm..."

She fumbled for words before trailing off.

"Sorry?" Thorax offered.

Ember snapped her fingers. "Yeah, that. That's the thing. I'm that. I'm sorry."

Thorax chuckled. "It's... alright. I should've said something sooner."

"Yeah, you really should have," Ember agreed. "This is all on you, Thorax. Shame on you."

They shared a laugh, and when it ended, Ember spoke up again. "What do we do now? I don't think a tour's such a good idea, after how I made my entrance..."

"And I don't think I'm gonna be making any return trips to Telos any time soon," said Thorax.

Ember half-frowned. "Options are lookin' kinda thin right now, dude."

"Well... maybe we change our approach a little bit, then," said Thorax. "Try and follow me on this – who says we gotta go out and find something to do? Or have someplace to go? Let's just pick a spot, settle down, and hang out together for a while."

Ember's face blanked. "That's some crazy bughorse logic you got goin' on there, Thorax."

"No, it makes sense. Because even if we're different, even if you're not into what I'm into, or the other way around – we're still friends, and we like each other. And I don't know about you, but I could kill a whole bunch of time just sitting next to you, doing nothing but enjoying your company, Ember."

A guarded smile broke across Ember's face. "Even if I'm a crazy dragon bitch?"

"Even then. Especially then." Thorax rubbed the back of his head. "What about you?"

"...I think I could give that a shot." Ember rotated 'til she faced west. "Promise you'll find something for me to punch if I get bored, though."

"Uh... we'll see." Thorax coughed awkwardly. "Y'know, we both know I can't keep up with you while you're flying, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. Hop on." Ember extended her arms, and Thorax flung himself into them, lacing his forehooves around her neck. "Comfy?"

"As I'll ever be," said Thorax.

"...Still doesn't count as a hug."

"Okay."

"...And if you tell anyone about this, I'll mess you up."

"It's only weird if you make it weird, Ember."

"Tch. Don't be a dick."

An instant later, they were rocketing west, Thorax's face nestled against Ember's chest.