I hummed.

It wasn’t much of a melody, nor was it particularly loud, but it was enough to solicit a few curious glances from ponies minding their own business.

The streets of Ponyville were a little crowded, though not without warrant. The summer solstice was tomorrow, and the townsfolk were busy with preparing for their various traditions. Most of them would brave the shortened night, waiting for that moment when their princess would raise the sun from her Canterlot fête.

Adjusting the Zebric meditation staff balanced on my hindquarters, I spotted my destination. Ponyville’s library was of an intriguing design, surely magicked into form when the town was founded.

I squinted at the building and, much to my surprise, saw that it hadn’t been helped at all. Crazy earth ponies.

I put the thought aside. With a chipper grin, I knocked on the door. The door was unlocked, but the Laws were very peculiar regarding entry into someone’s domain—whether kingdom or home—if he didn’t know you.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait for long. A purple, scaly dragon opened the door. He looked at me through one eye.

“Might I come in?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Door was open: you didn’t have to knock.” He walked further inside, leaving the door open behind him.

I chuckled. Closing the door behind me, I walked in. It was refreshingly chilly. I took my meditation staff and leaned it against a bookshelf.

“Where’s Sparkle, Spike?”

“She’s in Canterlot with Celes—“ He frowned. “How do you know my name, anyway?”

I rubbed my chin. “Well, isn’t the name of the faithful assistant to Equestria’s newest princess common knowledge?”

He blinked. “Eh, I guess so. Don’t see how I’m that important, though.” He examined the room’s red and yellow rug.

Truth be told, he wasn’t that important, at least not at the moment, but I’m the kind of person to consider more than just someone’s present in appraising their relative worth.

“So, what did you come here for, anyway? Like I said, if you need Twilight for something, she’s in Canterlot.”

“Oh! No. Er, not exactly. I’m looking for a book!”

“What kind of book? I can’t check anything out to you, but you can read it here if you’d like.”

“Something historical and adventurous.” I looked around. “Ya, that sounds about right. But fables are fine, too. Just make sure it has adventure.”

Spike looked up at me, contemplating.

“Sure, I think there’s something in here like that.” He pulled up a ladder and climbed it to a group of multicolored spines. He pulled one out.

“No, that’s a novel! I want something a bit less modern.”

He replaced the book, frowning. He descended the ladder and trod off to the other side of the room.

“Will this do?” he asked, pulling out a small, brown-bound book.

After scrutinizing it from a distance, I nodded. “That’ll do.”

He walked over and plopped the book at my feet.

“So, Spike, my man, have you ever done any adventuring?” I pulled the book to myself.

“Adventuring? Uh, no. Not really.” He sat down where he stood. “Doesn’t seem like the thing to do, really. Twilight’s usually the one that gets to have adventures. Why do you ask?”

“No reason in particular. Have you ever wanted to?”

“Sometimes.” He turned away. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not having one.” He looked back at me. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Nopony, really.” I flipped open the book. “And I’m less than nopony here of all places.” I pointed to a page. “This one looks quite dandy! Have you ever read ‘Squire Rabbit’?”

“Nope. And what do you mean you’re no one?”

“Well, I can't be just anybody. Where's the originality in that?”

Spike gawked at me.

“But semantics are boring. Let’s do something fun.”

The book in front of me exploded.



Spike was still gawking when a throne room and crowd of multicolored horses materialized around us. He was not alone in his gawking.

“Woops. My bad, Sir,” I said, dismounting the waiter squashed underneath me. “Won’t happen again.”

He grunted and stumbled away, leaving the silver platter he’d been carrying.

“Oh, cucumber! I don’t mind if I do, thank you.” I took a bite of one of the sandwiches. “Don’t mind me. As you all were,” I said through a mouthful of bread, mayonnaise, and assorted vegetables.

A few pegasus guards were floating overhead. Scary brutes, those were.

“Oh, there you are, Celly! Keeping the kingdom in line, I hope?” I grimaced. “Nasty word, quadrarchy. By now you could just about say oligarchy and be done with it.”

Celestia had the most peculiar expression on her face, somewhere betwixt tranquil rage and disappointment lacquered by regality.

“And the dashing Luna. Always a pleasure.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” she replied.

I pouted. “Death couldn’t make it. Not to mention he’s absolutely terrified of you. Dementia would have been even worse.” I noted the ponies around me; most were still gawking. Spike was still sitting on the floor, looking unsure of what to do with himself. “Anyway, about that adventure.”

A few of the guards had set down in the hollow between myself and the other ponies. They blocked my way.

“Um, excusez-moi.”

They didn’t move.

“You sirs are blocking my travel, and I do not appreciate it!”

Still they refused to budge.

“Fine. I’ll just go around you.”

The world froze. Getting through the gaps between stock-still partygoers was an arduous experience. A few non-moments later, I was clear of the crowd and had a direct route to the two thrones ahead. The world returned to its natural rhythm.

“Still just two thrones? I suppose you’ve found a backwater nation for poor Cadie to rule? Oh, I forgot, your society doesn’t operate like that. Or does it? I couldn’t figure out Equestrian politics for the life of me—“

“Silence.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you really think you can boss me around? I don’t care if you can strong-arm your way to a citizenship which never dies until their time. Time itself is still out of your reach.”

Celestia closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. “You, of anyone, should know there is a time and a place for everything.”

“Absolutely. Which also means there’s a time and a place for fun. I’m not hurting anypony, am I? Not to mention I have a rather grave discussion to have with your Twilie.”

“If you are seeking Twilight Sparkle, you will have to wait until tomorrow, after the Celebration, in order to do it. And even then you may only request an audience, like everyone else. The wait should be no problem for someone such as yourself.”

“Fine.” I turned away and trotted toward the crowd of ponies, most of whom still hadn’t moved much at all. “I’ll be back in eighty-seven years. I’ll be taking the dragon with me.”

“Wha—?!” Spike stood up, looking ready to flee.

I chuckled. “I’m terribly sorry for throwing out that one pony’s back, though!” I tapped my chin. “Suppose it’d have to happen sooner or later.”

Celestia looked ready to burst into flames.

“Alright. Ready, Dragon?” I didn’t wait for a response. “And a one, and a two, and a three, four, five.”

“Wait!” He grabbed my leg. “What if I don’t want to go with you?”

“Get off it, child. I was joking about those eighty-seven years. You get used to having a loose lip with a reset button at your disposal.”

Just like that, we weren’t where we were.



Gratefully, I took my Zebric meditation staff from where I’d stashed it and balanced it once again on my hindquarters. “Boy howdy, that was a hoot.”

Spike was curled up in a corner, twitching, nearly crying. “What have you done, what have you done. Gods above! She saw me. Did you see how angry she looked? Celestia’s going to hunt me down and impale my body on a pike! May Zmey Gorynych consume my soul.”

“Ah you know Zmey? Should have sent him out here, instead of me. Maybe he could get a rise out of these poor pony peasants.”

Spike’s eyes blinked sporadically out-of-sync.

“Boy, you’re just a fish out of water, aren’t you? Come here, no need to worry. I was fooling about the dragon god. Get on up and dust yourself off. That was a mite too much in one go, wasn’t it?” I helped him from the floor and steadied him.

Spike just whimpered.

“Okay, see, this is why we don’t spend more time with you folks. The fragility of those minds is staggering.” I looked him in the eye. “Now, listen, what went on just now? It didn’t happen. Celestia is not mad at you, we haven’t done any party-crashing, and we most certainly have not thrown anypony’s back out of alignment.”

The fellow snapped. “What do you think this is, anyway? I won’t take any of this from anyone, especially not from you! Go screw with someone else.”

“Wuotan m'aider.” I shook my head in amusement. “Spike, things might not make sense right now, but believe me, one day you’ll understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You’re mad, plain and simple!”

“Come, we are not done yet,” I sighed.

There was an inscrutable expression on his features.

---

The corridor was dark, lit only by flickering candles. Everyone would either be sojourning in the garden or trying to chat up the princesses in their throne room. Everyone except Twilight Sparkle. She was waiting in her guest bedroom, all dressed and ready for the night to be burned away by the first trappings of dawn. She heard our mumbling through the door.

“There are many outcomes to any situation. I like finding the best one. One can’t do that if he doesn’t try them all out, now can he?” I knocked on the door.

Twilight took a minute before opening it. There were no guards anywhere in sight.

“I know just what you’re thinking.” I pointed behind her. “That bedspread absolutely does not go with those curtains.”

Well, no, that hadn’t been what she was thinking at all.

“Might I come in, Madame?”

She noticed who was standing beside me. Her eyes shifted from him to me then back to him again.

“What’s going on here?”

“I mean no offense.” I bowed. “I have a message for you. It’s about important princess-y stuff.”

She stared at me and, not finding what she was searching for, looked to Spike. “What are you doing here?”

“That was my fault, really. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it after my task has been completed.”

“Give me the message.” She stepped aside and motioned the two of us through. “But be quick. I must be at the gardens in half an hour.”

“If you’re fine with receiving it in the presence of such horrid decor!” I sauntered in, preparing my ‘this is a serious matter’ face. “Princess Celestia granted you a great responsibility, Twilight Sparkle. You must understand that you and you alone are accountable for the actions you take from here on out.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do not pick fights which you cannot win.” I glanced at the ceiling. “As Luna once did, and Celestia before her. But that is ancient history.”

“Who are you, and who sent this message?”

“The gods did.”

Twilight Sparkle had the queerest expression on her face.

“Equestrians haven’t had gods in over three thousand years.”

“You are quite well-read and absolutely right. We’re a bad influence to the foals, see? About the only honorable one of the lot is Father Wuotan. Except you have just one little tryst with a mortal and she bares the near-destruction of the Equestrian races… Thankfully that part never got into the canonical mythology!”

Twilight Sparkle chuckled. “I see. You’re just jesting. Did Rainbow Dash put you up to it? I’d have to congratulate her on referencing such an obscure subject matter.”

That was a new result.

“No ma’am, I am not jesting.” At least she had a sense of humor, however misdirected. “Fortune, at your service.” I bowed again. “I have been completely truthful with you. I have a message from the gods, my father sired the Windigos that nearly annihilated your people, and whoever furnished this room had terrible fashion sense.”

She sat there awhile.

“The last two parts were not part of the message, mind.”

“What do you mean, I have responsibility for my actions? Isn’t that already the case? And what do you mean, don’t pick fights I can’t win?”

Smart one, that.

“See, you could do a few things which weren’t quite right before, and we’d go to Celestia if it was a big enough problem. Need I mention that incident with your ‘want it, need it’ spell? You sent Love into a terrible bender for the week after. Guess who we blamed?”

Twilight made as if to respond.

“Absolutely! We blamed Celestia.” I settled some. “From now on, what you do is on your own head.” A patient smile spread across my lips. “About fights you can’t win, however, that’s another matter entirely.

“When we demand something of you, you must know when to concede and when to contest. Celestia fought for your peace, your freedom, your long, joyful lives. Luna fought Celestia for control of the heavens. One lost, the other won.” I closed my eyes. “Though it is not fair to say Celestia has always won. Just because Death has lost its grip does not mean ponies are left untouched by my follies.”

“What does all this have to do with Spike?” Her worried eyes gazed at the silent dragon.

“I did promise to explain that to you, didn’t I?”

She nodded.

“I am very old, Twilight Sparkle. Older than the seas and the mountains.” My eyes watered. “I have seen. I have loved. I have waited longer than you could imagine.”

Her expressions shifted as her mind tried to parse what I was saying.

“Everything has its season: There is a time for silence and a time for music, a time for mourning and a time for laughter—”

“A time for life and a time for death,” finished Twilight.

Very smart one, that.

“As it should be.” I hadn’t weeped like this since they took down my shrine at Hollow Shades. “The Law requires I hand down my Authority to a lesser being if I am to embrace oblivion, so I am making this lad—” I motioned toward Spike. “—my de facto apprentice until that time comes.”

She didn’t really know what to say.

I don’t blame her.

“And what about Spike? Is he okay with all of this?”

I glanced at him. “Go ahead, speak your mind.”

“I—” Spike examined his toes. “I don’t really know.”

I'd talked with him a long time—hours, even—beforehand. We'd gone through telling Twilight about it thrice before he stopped blurting something stupid out like "Help, Twilight! This crazy pony's trying to kidnap me!" Lies. Slander!

I smiled. “He is the only mortal I have seen who not only can benefit from my Authority, he can do oh so much more with it. More than even you could imagine might come from such a humble secretary.” The smile became a frown. “Celestia has gotten Death to be far more lenient on her people, but Zmey has him a thousand times more petrified. As a result, dragons have very, very long lives.” I looked her straight in the eye. “This you understand, correct?”

Recognition dawned on her.

“It is a gift for you, as well. Death will not come for a long time. I offer you and him the chance to see your friends every day.”

Twilight’s features twisted into a mask of pain and sadness.

“Think on it, ma’am. I’ll be hanging around.” I pondered for a moment. “And putting up a temple or something would be really appreciated. I haven’t heard a prayer in so long. Oh how I miss those so.”

Humming, I left them.