"Let's mix things up." The feline that smiled at them was familiar, the one that gave them the riddles once before. "Too much of the same thing becomes a bit of a drag, don't you think?"
Garble hefted his sword high. "Get to the point or you'll get to mine."
"Oh, your tongue is as sharp as your blade," laughed the cat, seeming to find no threat in the swordsdragon. "It's already decided, so you could hurt me, if you like. I didn't do anything."
Sandra slipped an arm in front of Garble. "Sorry, we're on edge, and I think you know why."
"Of course, of course," murmured the cat with the deepest of sympathies. "Poor things. Why, we'll make it easier, because you've been working so hard."
Spike raised a brow at that. "And now I know we'll hate it, but go ahead, tell us how it'll be 'easier'." He made big air quotes to emphasize his doubt. "This'll be good."
"Fantastic," assured the cat, wiggling its back end in a typically feline way just before considering a pounce. "One floor for each of you, alone. Prove you really want what you say you want, if you're even sure what that is. Oh, this should be so much fun!"
Smolder threw up her hands. "What's the easy part?!"
"Only one floor per person means less floors, silly dragon," laughed the cat, seemingly quite amused by the whole thing. "In fact, as soon as each person finishes theirs, they'll get a chance to set a return after it, where you will all gather for the last big struggle before these ten are finished, even if it's less than ten."
Sandra looked pensive. “Maybe we should decline, guys. If we’re all together we can watch each other’s backs, but if we’re not… we could all run into fights as hard as ones for all of us, but alone.”
The group murmured amongst each other trying to weigh the pros and cons.
The cat tilted her head. “I’m sorry, perhaps I was unclear.” It clapped it’s paws in a distinctly uncatlike way, and behind them the wall faded away, showing five doors labeled with glyph like representations of the five adventurers. “Enjoy your change of pace.”
“... Oh,” Sandra said, crestfallen.
Garble scowled as he walked past the cat, the rest of the group following, and all going to their respective doors.
“Alright then,” Tabitha announced. “Don’t be afraid to use those recalls, either, guys. We are on our own, but we can save ourselves. And see you all on the other side.” And she opened her door, stepping through.
One by one the rest of the party stepped through their respective doors, and the cat smiled from the other side, their smile the last thing visible before the party was sealed inside.
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Great cheering exploded from around her. Flower petals rained down all around as excited cries came at such volume that her ears hurt, but she could but smile in response, because they were all cheering for her, and she knew it.
Tabitha pumped a fist in the air, directing the cheering as she strode with confidence. A man hurried in from the left. "You are the latest of a vanishingly tiny number of people that have reached the very top," he shouted. "You must be so proud!"
"I am," she hollered in return, smiling all the wider. She had done it. Her dreams were coming true.
"What now?"
The cheering was gone. The crowds, gone.
She was alone in the dark, only that man left. "What now?" he asked again, his voice more of a sad witness of a terrible event rather than the ecstatic attempt to get a news story a moment before.
“Now I… I do whatever I want?"
"What now?" he asked, his words feeling like weightless but deadly sharp blades cutting into her chest. Two words, spoken so clearly there was no defense against them. Such a simple question. Why was she crying?
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Rocky terrain with magma pools surrounded him, as he strode out. He hopped on his feet a little, his gear fading like it wasn’t even there, and he took to the skies. In short order he saw his old crew.
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“Guys!” He yelled out, too exuberant.
“Oh, hey, it’s Garble,” said Fizzle. “It’s been a while, where’ve you been?”
“Probably out doing some namby pamby poetry,” Clump started to laugh.
“Hey! That stuff was really cool!”
His crew erupted into laughter, falling into a pile over each other. “Sh-shuttup!” Garble shouted, his voice cracking, and they just laughed harder.
Stomping away, Garble came across Ember, the dragon lord now. “Oh, Garble, you’re back.”
“Yeah,” Garble spat. “I’m back, did you miss me?”
“I thought things were less trouble around here, you come back to cause some?” Ember folded her arms.
“W-what? No, I’m part of…” Garble shook his head. “I thought we were cool!”
“So? You still cause trouble. Fortunately your sister is back in the pony lands, so we don’t have to worry.”
“You barely even noticed I was gone, didn’t you? I… I… I…”
He looked down at the ground, staring at it. The so-called friends who treated him like crap. The dragon lord he kinda hated but was… better. Smolder back off in the pony lands, far from him…
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"You're back!" Twilight hugged Spike firmly, arms wrapped around, hooves just above one another on his back. "Thank Celestia. Now we can get back to normal."
Spike blinked softly. Normal? He thought back to where normal had been, where he could never quite reach again. "Twilight? I… I've been through a lot."
"And I'm very sorry, for all of it." She reached out past him and a book flew over to her extended hoof. "I've been a bad sister, but that changes now! You're going to be treated like the little brother you are."
Some part of him liked the sound of that, but so much also didn't. "Twilight, I… we… We went through a lot."
"It was terrible," agreed Twilight, setting the book down and flipping it open. "Not at all suitable to a dragon just going through puberty! I can't say sorry enough times. But it's behind us now."
Was that what he wanted, to forget all that ever happened?
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Twilight woke with a start, blinking. She hadn't even been with the party, but she felt the same back-of-the-head detachment that came with her journeys to the other world. However, she had her usual body. And she was home. But that couldn't be true… "Spike?"
"Twilight." There stood Spike, he looked sad. "I'm glad you're here. We have something to talk about."
"Are you alright? What's going on?" She looked around that not-home, frowning with thought.
"We made it back… but… I can't be here. I can't be your #1 assistant anymore. I… I need to go do my own things. I'm sorry." He set a hand on her shoulder, reaching up to do so. "Thank you, for being there."
"Spike, what are you… talking about?" She shook her head vigorously. "We're…" But they were home, the reality insisted. "Even if… you grew up, I'd love you even harder!" She had gotten what she wanted, Spike safely home, but it was going wrong, going so very wrong.
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Smolder walked out onto the school of friendship grounds. It was empty, for some reason, but she found Sandbar quickly enough. “Yo! Sandbar! Look who's back!” She took off to the sky.
“Oh,” Sandbar said listlessly. “Hi, Smolder.”
She landed next to him. “You seem less than excited to see me. I’ve been missing for like… months? At least?”
“Oh, I guess,” Sandbar said. “But school’s over. Everyone else went back home.” He glanced up at Smolder. “I just figured you did it sooner.”
“So? Why don’t we go hang out?”
“We all went home Smolder!” Sandbar said. “They’re all gone! The whole friendship thing is caput!”
Smolder frowned and tilted her head.
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Sandra crashed into a desk she was certain hadn't been there a moment before. "Excuse me."
"We'll keep this short," replied a man sitting behind that desk. "No drama, no theatrics. Just the way you like it." He smiled, but it was devoid of warmth. "Name?"
"Sandra?" she answered as if she wasn't entirely sure, her eyes darting. "What is this?"
"I'll ask the questions, kindly." He penciled something down. The name? "Why are you here?"
"I don't know where here is," she admitted. "The tower? That's… changed."
"Has it?" Another scratch on the paper. "What was it, and what is it, more importantly?"
"I thought it was the answer." She spread her hands wide. "To everything. Just get to the top, and it'd all work out, make a reason… for me, for everything. That was dumb, but so was… I."
"I see…" He kept right on writing calmly. "But that changed, you said?"
"A lot." She pulled the chair on her side of the desk forward and sat on it, facing the man. "Now I'm doing it for something specific, and not about me."
"Selfless, that's considered noble." Not that he was speaking in any admiring way as he wrote it down. "Even if it costs you more than you'd want to pay?"
"He already told me." She crossed her arms. "There's a good chance I will pay… everything."
"And you still want it?" He looked up from his writing. "Do you have a reason, or is it just a stubborn decision? There is no wrong answer there." The writing resumed. "Both make for great heroes."
Sandra paused, and chose her words carefully. “Because… I’m responsible for it.”
The man scribbled something in his notepad. “And why is that?”
“Because… it was confirmed? The only reason Spike, Garble, and Smolder are here is because of some… heroism thing passed down from my parents.” She made a sour face. “Which I thought was my fault… for a long time?”
“And do you think that you still carry that?” He stopped writing momentarily to look at her. “Do you blame yourself for it?”
“I… I dunno. I did for a long time. But apparently it’s probably the tower’s fault?” She looked at the man, and upward. “And it’s a curse that was passed on to me. And the only way I’ll have the real answers, and a chance at fixing anything, is at the top of the tower.” She rose from her seat and stepped away from the desk. “How do I get up? I need to.”
The man gestured to a door that appeared behind him. “You only need to step through.”
Sandra immediately made her way to the door, throwing it open and stepping through it, stepping out into the room beyond, with its familiar recall point.
The door closed, and the man flipped his notepad closed, the nondescript features of his form becoming a cloaked man that Spike would find familiar. “See you at the top.”