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"You shouldn't have done that, you know."

A voice wakes me from a troubled slumber. It is dark outside, the kind of dark that presages a storm, and the fire has burned low. I can't tell whence the voice comes: I believe I am hearing it with my ears, but in this land anything is possible.

"Hullo?..." I say while peering into the dark. My vision is keen, as is my ability to scent, but I can't perceive anything. Anyone. Either.

"I said, you shouldn't have done that." A pony moves slowly out of a deeper area of shadow at the back of the cave, behind an overhang. Mare or stallion I can't tell, and really I can't find much more of it - them - than a bit of an outline in the dark. Black on black, two different shades of the same colour.

"Done what?" I toss a few logs onto the fire and a huff of my own flame stirs the embers and the new wood into heat and light. Even now there it's difficult to tell that there is someone else in the cave with me. It's as though the person doesn't want to be seen. Or, more than that: not remembered. Strange.

"Oh. Anything. You shouldn't have kissed Celestia, that much is certain."

"She didn't object."

"She wouldn't. She's polite that way. And besides, she likes you, even though you are a dragon." The other couldn't quite conceal its distaste for that word and that idea. "It was quite the breach of protocol."

"I'll apologise next time I see her."

"That would be a good idea. And don't do it again."

Irritation at being so addressed spikes in my mind and my brows furrow. "Says who? Who *are* you?"

Now there's a laugh, a dry and more than faintly sarcastic sound. "My name isn't important, dragon." Again that faint distaste. "But my duty is. And my duty is to Celestia, and to this realm. I won't let you damage either one."

"It wasn't my intention to do so."

"The road to perdition is made of intentions. I deal in actions; actions and facts. Fact: you are a dragon. Fact: you are here. Fact: you have no reason for being here. Fact ---"

"Fact," I cut in, "I am grievously injured and unable to do anything much."

Hooves scrape lightly on stone. "Yes. Yes, you are." The voice has now taken a sinister edge. "It would behoove you well to remember that."

"I don't take kindly to threats." My voice remains calm and steady. "Perhaps I should tell Celestia that someone is making them."

Another laugh. "Don't hold your breath. Celestia is rather busy with other matters; do you think the affairs of one brokeback dragon warrants much of her attention?" More sounds of hoof-falls, and now from the shadows steps a pony whose shape seems out of phase, shimmery, as though ill-defined, not quite there, not quite solid. My mind doesn't want to grasp it, it seems. Its eyes glitter, hard, in the dancing firelight. There's the idea of a smirk on its face, a knowing expression. "Come on, now."

"So you're here to take care of him."

"Let's just say I'm being a little more than usually proactive in my problem-solving, yes." More steps closer, perhaps a body-length from my head; it lifts a fore-hoof and there is a smooth and clean sound of metal whisking upon metal. Without warning and from nowhere comes a stiletto the length of its cannon: this is obviously quite substantive, light glittering on it. "And there's no better time to solve a problem... than when it can't... fight... back."

My eyes narrow. Normally my tail would be twitching into stillness and my claws tensing in readiness; still incapacitated, I have limited use of my fores and none of my hinds. I cannot even curl easily to defend myself. I do have my breath weapon, of course, and my fangs, but even so. I watch the pony come closer and closer, steps smooth and even and no sign of the handicap of walking on three hooves. It could be levitating itself, but I can't tell.

"If you want to live, defend yourself, you scaly bastard."

Now is the moment. The point of that stiletto is almost at my throat. One huff of fire, one bite of my fangs... that is all it would take. I can feel the fear --- And that is the point. That *is* the point. The fear. The urge to fight back. To defend. To fight violence with violence. In the moment of recognition, the wave of primal emotion that was welling up in me sweeps over, and past, and is gone, and I can think again. Even with that advancing point almost to the base of my throat, brightly cold and sparkling, I can think.

"No."

"Then you will die." I've never heard quite so much satisfaction in a sentence of four syllables as that one.

My next breath comes easily, and naturally. "Yes. I will. And so be it."

Now the advance halts. "'So be it'?... Is that all you have to say?"

It sounds strange, but I smile. "Yes. Why, is there something else you'd prefer?"

It makes a snorting sound. "Very well. Close your eyes, dragon, and my gift shall be yours."

"No."

Another snort. "'No'?"

"No. No, I shall not close my eyes. You may close them for me; you may luxate my eyeballs; you may put out my eyes with horn or gouge or fire... but I shall not close them." The figure is immediately in front of me, but I still cannot see clearly. "I shall not."

"No?"

"No. I do not fear you."

"You do not fear your death?"

Belief, firm and strong, comes to me, a whisper of summer rain after a heavy day. "No. I do not fear my death. When it is time, it is time."

Something is wrong with the world: it is beginning to shake. The form remains poised in front of me. "Perhaps you do not deserve my gift after all, dragon." More and more the world shakes, rocking back and forth and threatening to tumble me with it. "Nonetheless, heed this: if you go to Karokkh-n'gr-Mawr, you will die." How it can remain so calm while the world is tipping about, back and forth, jolting like a frightened herbivore, I do not know. I am buffeted around, bashed from one side of the cave to the other. The injured portion of my body strikes something, the wall of the cave; in a moment of exquisite agony I see the fire catching on the grasses, a pall of flame filling the room with fire and smoke, more and more, then I am tossed the other way and another impact on my wound. I scream ---