Prologue:
The road to Ponyville was never so beautiful as just after dark, Spike thought. The endless green fields stretched out in all directions until they met the distant, snow-capped mountains, dotted at intervals with copses of cedar, oak, and ash. And overhead, low in the sky, the molten silver disk of the moon hung there, always full and supernaturally bright.
But there was something more to it than that. It wasn't the familiarity of having walked this path a thousand times in the past, or the sight of City Hall looming at the town's center, or even the rich slopes of Sweet Apple Acres visible beyond it. No, there was a strange charge to the air, like on Nightmare Night, exciting and just scary enough to give the touch of a thrill. As peaceful and well-trodden as this part of Equestria was, nighttime brought forth its children.
And yet Spike walked alone on that road, which cut a pale ribbon through the green. His strides were strong and sure, and absolutely unafraid. Any monster who haunted the dark would think twice when they caught the scent of a dragon.
True, he wasn't the mountainous horror of Scour the Viridian, but he was larger now than he had been since the last time he walked this road. He had grown up to look not unlike the way he had always imagined. His frame had filled out with hard muscle, particularly down his arms and across his broad shoulders. His jawline had squared off nicely, and his scales had darkened from lavender to a mournful shade of violet, though his crest and eyes had remained as vibrant as emerald.
There was only thing, one small thing, which threw off his otherwise nostalgic trek to his adopted home.
He was being followed.
They were good. Very good, and had stayed well upwind of him. He waited until he crossed the stream to address the problem.
"You can come out now," he spoke to the darkness.
Nothing answered or stirred.
"I can smell you, hear your heartbeat fluttering in your chest. You might as well join me. Perhaps we can walk into town together."
A series of howls split the night. To his left, six dark shapes burst from the woods and raced towards him. Spike's eyes could see as well in the dark as in the day. Concentrating, he cast his gaze forward, seeing his foes as easily as if he had been twenty paces in front of them. They were creatures made up of a conglomerate of branches, leaves, and vines.
Timberwolves.
There was no way they were acting under their own will.
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" Spike said to his unseen visitor. "Blaze, to me!"
A nimbus of living fire arced across the sky, diving toward the charging predators. The phoenix stalled in the air above them and leapt into flames so bright it turned night suddenly into day. The wolves paused, as though standing in a golden spotlight.
"Go away!" Spike bellowed at them.
The momentary confusion passed, and the wolves resumed their course.
"Then we do this the hard way," Spike muttered. The gems on his bracers glowed briefly and a long silver lance materialized in one hand and a burnished shield bearing the six stars of the Queen appeared in the other. Blaze descended upon one like a comet, lighting it on fire.
The first wolf was upon him, and Spike slammed the boss of his shield into the creature's wooden snout. The force almost disassembled it, and instead paralyzed it. His lance found another one, spearing it in its side. Spike used the momentum to bring the wolf completely over his head, slamming it down to the ground, where it broke apart with a yelp.
One caught him full on with its claws in a raking pass, just as its companion on the opposite side followed suit. The first claw scraped across Spike's scales without finding purchase, but the second one…
Ouch!
Its claws were not made of thorns or wooden stakes, but some sort of enchanted metal. The remaining wolf knocked him down as it pounced, but Spike rolled with the impact and bodily threw the monster off of him as his back connected with the dusty of the road.
Spike was back on his feet in an instant, watching as the three wolves circled him, seeking to flank him.
"And this is why you should never meddle in the affairs of dragons," Spike said, taking a step back, and drawing a gulping breath at the same time.
When it he let it out, a plume of white flames roared out of his mouth in a devastating cone. It was so hot that it turned some of the sandy surface of the road to fused glass. The three wolves became smoldering heaps of red and grey ashes.
Good thing they'll grow back, he thought. They always do.
"That wasn't very nice," Spike said, nursing the wound on his arm. It was already starting to close up on its own. Blaze perched nobly on his shoulder as Spike scanned the darkness for the author of this event.
He heard a buzzing sound, like insect wings. The silhouette of a pegasus passed in front of the emerging stars some distance away. No, not a pegasus.
A changeling.
Then she knows, Spike thought. Time is shorter than I thought.
His lance and shield disappeared, and Spike turned his gaze once again to Ponyville. So many memories, so many colorful adventures, all had their beginnings right there. Saving the day just in the nick of time, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. And the friendships: won, lost, and regained.
But it all seemed so distant now.
Where had that spirit of friendship gone these last few years?
Just beyond the height of City Hall, Spike could just make out the towering spires of Canterlot Castle on the side of the mountain, in the far, far distance.
Friendship.
We need that now more than anything.