Chapter Text
Dear Spike,
I am doing everything I can to get to you. The statue has been on the fritz ever since this new Twilight showed up here, but I don't think she's linked to what's going on in Equestria. All of us here can remember Princess Twilight.
If the mirror really is smashed, then it may be a case of rebuilding it piece by piece, and, no offense, but I don't imagine you have the knowhow to successfully reconstruct a magical artifact like that. We're working on seeing if there are any other ways through, but to be honest, it's not looking good. I'll always be here to respond if you need help, but I'm afraid I can't do any more than that.
If you can contact Twilight in any way, let her know she's not alone. I'm doing everything in my power to get through to her.
Hope to see you soon,
Your friend, Sunset Shimmer.
Spike felt numb as he shut the journal, carefully sliding it into the space between two crystals near the peak of the tower. He had figured it was the best place to hide it; the only way to find it without some kind of divination was to know exactly where it was.
Only one other creature knew this hiding spot, and she was currently on the run.
Spike had written to Sunset as soon as he was once again alone in the castle, begging for help, despite knowing how unlikely it was. He could only hope she could find a way through.
The last few days had been, frankly, awful for the young dragon. Individually, each of Twilight's best friends had come to survey the damage, each idly wondering why the pair of fugitive unicorns had opted to damage the castle. He had overheard Applejack complaining about the guest bedroom being "charred to high heaven".
The guest bedroom.
It was just as Twilight had said; none of the Elements of Harmony seemed to have any idea that Twilight was their friend, only knowing her as a deranged unicorn who had fled Canterlot Palace covered in blood. Apparently, she had claimed to know them, although all present at the palace had individually dismissed this claim.
How could someone remove everyone in the world's memory of a single mare?
Only Pinkie Pie seemed uncertain, but that was natural, being the only one absent from Canterlot that night. She hadn't said much, mumbling something about her back right hoof aching.
When looking at Spike, the girls seemed to view him as one might view a librarian. To them, he was just the castle's dragon, with no desire to think about who he was or why he was here.
He was, at least, glad to see they still had some affection towards him. Rarity had brought some gems for him to crunch on, and Applejack had offered him the spare room at the farm to sleep in for a few nights until the castle could be fixed up. Spike had refused. He couldn’t help but feel like a stranger.
Shuffling into the kitchen, he prepared himself a bowl of cereal, trying his best not to not stare at the empty spot that was usually filled.
The day would probably be a free one. The girls had their own responsibilities to attend to. Rarity had 12 dresses to complete for the end of the week, Applejack was heading to the Bridlewood Market, Rainbow Dash had her Wonderbolt training, Pinkie had the bakery, and Fluttershy had her animals to take care of.
Spike had research to do.
He had helped Twilight with research countless times and thus knew the castle's library almost as well as she did. His first port of call was research into the mirror portal itself to see if there was a way to fix it. He could even send a letter to Celestia to find out more about its functionality.
Would Celestia remember him?
Spike put his head in his claws. Everything about him was so intrinsically linked to Twilight to the point where, he had to admit, he felt like somewhat of an accessory. Would Celestia think he was just "the castle's dragon?"
He decided against it. He had to figure out how to get a letter to Twilight first. It couldn't be too difficult; it was the same transportation spell using the magic within his dragonfire, just with a destination. He was sure he could find a strand of Twilight's mane somewhere in this castle.
He put away his bowl (something that Twilight would usually have to remind him to do), and walked towards the library. As he passed the front door, he heard a gentle knock. From the meekness of the action, he assumed it was Fluttershy.
Despite all of Twilight's effort, Fluttershy would always insist on knocking first, saying it's only polite to warn someone of your appearance. Spike opened the door, the echo of a smile on his face.
"Hi."
That wasn't Fluttershy.
A green pony stood in front of him.
Spike raised his eyebrows. She was unlike anypony he had seen before. She looked like an especially fluffy unicorn, with long fur bristling around her chest that matched the unbrushed mane on her head. Her horn was truly unique, its surface like the branch of a tree. There were faint scales on her muzzle, as well as on her back.
A flash of memory crossed Spike's mind.
"Hello! You're… a kirin?" he asked.
The green pony's mouth twitched.
"Yes. I'm, uhm, here to see the castle's owner. I heard she escaped."
Spike stared at her for a few moments.
"If you're here to see the owner, but you know she escaped, then why are you-"
Spike gasped quietly.
"Wait… if you know the owner of the castle…"
Hope swelled in his heart.
"You know Twilight? You remember her?"
The kirin's tired eyes gleamed. Spike saw her run her tongue across her lips.
"You remember her?" she echoed.
Spike's eyebrow furrowed.
"I do. I could never forget Twilight! She's almost my parent! How come you remember her too?"
The kirin's ears flattened back against her skull.
"I'm sorry, little dragon," she said softly as her horn lit up.
Spike's eyes widened.
"D-Don't try anything! I can have the Elements of Harmony here in a snap of my claw!"
The kirin's mouth tugged into an apologetic smile.
"I really am sorry," she mumbled, magic pulsing around her horn, "Something went a bit wrong. Stay still, please. It hurts less that way."
Spike watched in confusion as the kirin took a small, bluish rock in her hoof, and held it out towards him. The rock had grooves in it that were pulsing with cyan patterns. It also had a large fissure streaking down the middle, where some of the magic within seemed to be leaking out.
Spike clocked onto what was about to happen a split second too late.
He flung his claw in front of his face.
His ears rang.
Spike never delivered the letter he wrote. He didn't even remember where it was, or who it was addressed too.
He spent the rest of the day continuing to clean up the castle, making sure it was in a presentable state for when it had visitors.
He was just the castle's dragon, after all.
Nothing more.
