Chapter Twenty-Five
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Justice sat at the base of a tall throne. It was one of six in a hexagonal chamber that once was a place of glory; it was plated with bronze and iron, sleek and shiny, while a glass globe displayed the latest as it hung in the center of the hall, suspended by magic. The thrones themselves were gargantuan, though they weren’t all created equal--they ranged from three meters in height to nine. It was from here that the Elements of Discord watched the world turn and turn, with all the information in the world at their disposal.
When Justice finally returned to it, however, after five thousand long years imprisonment, she found it decrepit and decaying. The polish and the shine had been replaced with rust and mold. The glass sphere that allowed her to see everything there ever was had been crushed and turned to dust. Only the thrones remained, but even these were falling into disrepair.
The shortest throne had crumbled to a third of its height. The fourth throne in the room had withered and was slowly approaching the same fate. The fifth throne had turned to dust. All of the other thrones, however, were still intact.
Justice exhaled. The battle was only days away, now. She had hoped that she would have been able to find something of use in this hall, but everything had been obliterated--by the traitor, no doubt. By the pony who sought to end everything she had worked so hard to gain.
Justice was not a fool.
“You look weary, sister.” Justice had sensed the presence coming, but she didn’t turn around. Deception had entered the hall, and she continued to walk down and sit just beneath where the Clyromore used to be, in the dead center of the sacred grounds.
“I have no time for your games, love. There’s much more that needs worrying about than you,” Justice said, turning her back to her sister.
“I fret for your safety, Justice,” Deception continued. “You are the master of an army that has been under your influence for weeks, now, and yet you still strive to challenge Harmony to a duel that you do, in fact, stand the possibility of losing.”
“Your end game here isn’t to make me go back on my challenge, Deception, that’s obvious enough. So that raises the question, what is?” Justice asked. “And your worry is wasted on me, dear. I run no risk of losing to the neophytes. Not while they’re one member short.”
Deception also slowly turned her back to her sister. “...Then I wish you best of luck. They have proven quite crafty.”
“With your help, sure,” Justice chuckled.
“Are you accusing me of something, sister?” Deception asked, staring intently at the sixth and tallest throne.
“There is nothing I can accuse you of, Deception,” Justice stated truthfully, “but tell me why the thought seems to take you aback.”
“Since you lack proof, I would have been surprised if you delved into the baseless conjecture that Harmony is so well known for. That’s all,” Deception said.
“That’s all? Deception, your simplicity knows no bounds,” Justice said, her gaze locked on the third throne in the room.
“I suppose it depends on circumstance,” Deception replied. “Your point?”
“If you’re in a simple mood, Deception, then tell me what you intend to gain from your actions,” Justice ordered.
“My actions have only been with your interests in mind, sister,” Deception answered.
“Only mine, not Equestria’s?” Justice asked.
“Your interests are Equestria’s interests,” Deception added promptly.
“Hmph. You seem to think rather highly of me, love. Certainly a change of pace,” Justice said, her tone getting increasingly strained with pent-up frustration.
“You also seem to be inhabiting a significantly younger body than usual. Also a circumstantial change,” Deception replied.
There was a long pause, in which neither party spoke. Their faces were expressionless, their eyes unblinking, and their breath nearly slowed to a stop. They were nearly as motionless as the thrones they sat on during the Times of Endless Dawn.
Then, finally, Deception said, “I have a list of priorities, Justice.” She stood up, not bothering to glance back at her sister. She paused for a moment, then added, “Self-preservation... is no longer on the top of that list.”
Justice didn’t respond. If she had even acknowledged what Deception had said, she didn’t let on.
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*******
A few days earlier...
The bar was lit up brightly and colored with drink and dance of all kinds, from the watered-down to the volatile and from casual back-and-forth motion to the fluid, feral movements of so-called ‘professional clubbers.’ That was all occurring in the front portion of the bar, the part that was kept clean and crisp so that the owners didn’t get sued as often when somepony inevitably fell over and broke their neck on the hardwood floor.
Olly was sitting in the back of the bar, which was characteristically dingy and gloomy, nursing the strongest beer they had to offer. It was about half-empty, as was his soul. Heh, I like that, he thought, taking another sip. Blegh, poetry. How bored can you get?
Ordinarily, Olly would have joined the dancers and probably would have had a much better time, but there was a slight problem with that: Every minute or so, they would twitch slightly and robotically transfer to where they were a few moments before, endlessly repeating the same fluid, feral movements and never tiring or alternating their routine. The bartender was perpetually wiping a spill of the counter, and a stallion opposite of Olly was chugging a mug of beer that never seemed to completely empty.
He was trapped in an illusion.
He had noticed this fairly quickly, seeing that the spilled liquor a dancer had clumsily knocked onto a table was never quite absorbed by the rag, yet the bartender never grew frustrated with his futile attempts and, with a slight tick every now and again, would continue mopping up the mess for what seemed like an eternity.
Olly had tried to escape as it dawned on him what was happening, but he found that if he moved from his seat, a few moments later, just before he got to the door, he would be sitting back in his stool, inhaling the reek that was the grungy back of an urban tavern. And no matter how much beer he drank, it would always revert to its half-empty level.
“Look, I know how entertaining my suffering is,” Olly said, glancing around for anypony not subject to the time loop of the bar. “But could I have the honor of knowing who’s keeping me on a leash.”
An earth pony stopped dancing, and turned to look. She was a light orange color, with an odd mane; it was orange and red, but the colors were in a sort of checkerboard pattern, forming sort of a grid along her hair. She slowly ambled over, and Olly watched her out of the corner of his eye.
“What do you want?” he growled, adjusting the strap of his eye patch.
“I want the truth,” the mare replied.
“Awfully ironic,” Olly muttered in reply, taking another swig.
“Oh? And why is that?” the mare inquired, taking a seat next to Olly. She was dainty and light, and her eyes were brimming with playful energy.
“You know what you are,” Olly retorted.
“...Fair enough. But your assumptions are only half correct,” Deception began, closing one of her eyes. When it once again opened, a harsh, black, daggerlike slit replaced her pupil. The other eye, which was so cheerful and happy, was now contrasted by an eye that was full of aloof interest and deceit. “I am also... a memory. I’m sure you know what those are like, if only slightly.”
“Want to join me in poetry? We can start right now,” Olly hissed, sarcasm dripping off his every word. “Why not just make an entire useless book on how we both feel, deep down inside? Because that’s really what I want to do right now. You know why?”
Deception tilted her head slightly to the side. “Hmm?”
“Because I don’t feel anything anymore!” Olly shouted. His horn glowed, and his glass began to vibrate before shooting into the air. He was aiming at Deception, but she ducked, and it instead flew into the bartender behind her. He didn’t even notice, and after a few moments, the glass reappeared on the counter in front of Olly. He tried to calm his breathing. “I’ve been here for hours, not having to eat, not having to sleep, not thinking anything, not feeling anything, not having to do one--single--thing!”
“And?” Deception asked.
“...And? And--!” Olly began, his expression an odd combination of a smile and a look of agony, “I like it this way! I like not having to do anything, I like not having to worry about dying, I like just sitting here, drinking beer, watching others having fun! And that’s--that’s--!” He paused, unable to continue.
“What is it?” Deception asked, her tone having never changed since the beginning of their conversation.
“That’s just so unlike me,” Olly murmured. “I feel... I feel like somepony is just taking away who I am. Just by me being here. Deception, what are you doing to me?” he breathed, looking up at her.
“I am finding the truth, and I am nearly there. Do not worry. What you have lost will be returned to you after you rest,” Deception said soothingly, raising a hoof and brushing some of Olly’s mane out of his eyes.
“Why are you even here?” Olly asked, pushing her hoof away from his face. “I mean, I know it’s your job to ruin ponies’ lives, but why mine?”
“The secrets of your memory, Olly, intrigued me. That was why I borrowed them, along with some others, for a short while. You are special, Olly, which is why your memories are a suitable substitute for the true prize,” Deception explained.
“Don’t be cryptic. You might as well say nothing at all,” Olly scowled. “What do you mean, ‘true prize?’”
“You should know. One of them has feelings for you. All of them would be upset to lose you. They are the keys to open the doorway to the truth, but you, Olly, are my... skeleton key. Yes,” Deception grinned. “You and your...” she trailed off.
“My...?” Olly prompted.
“The memories I used to uncover part of the truth will be returned to you shortly, as they are no longer necessary. I have learned what I needed to know from them,” Deception continued.
“Okay, great, but my...?” Olly pressed.
Deception smiled slightly before vanishing. The entire bar, in fact, abruptly vanished with her, leaving Olly plummeting into the darkness below with a final wail.
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*******
What do you mean, ‘sabotaged?’ Twilight asked Guilt.
What do you think I mean? he replied furiously. His expression, fortunately, didn’t match his tone; his face remained blank and impassive as not to upset Rarity, Pinkie, or most importantly Dash. I mean her wings were cut up for Hors d'oeuvre, that’s what I mean!
Twilight, unfortunately, wasn’t as good at hiding her shock and slight disbelief, and Rarity asked, “Darling, is something wrong?”
“Huh? Oh, no, Guilt just told me something... interesting about the way pegasi work,” Twilight replied nervously.
A small smirk appeared on Guilt’s lips as he played along with Twilight’s fib.
“I think I’m going to go wash my eyes out now. Be right back,” Twilight said. So how do you know it’s sabotage? she asked on her way to the balcony where Luna was waiting with the doctors.
In battle, injuries are haphazard, strewn throughout a body because the foe’s only real goal is to kill or maim. But these cuts--they are not my brother’s. They’re too precise, too methodical. Whoever did this wanted Dash to remain flightless, and it’s not like all that many ponies have access to the inside of Dash’s wings without her knowing. It had to have been the doctors, Guilt concluded.
Okay, but why? Twilight inquired.
I just told you why, to keep her flightless. I believe what you’re searching for is the ‘who,’ Guilt assumed. In that case, I’m afraid I can’t be certain.
Can you guess? Twilight asked.
...I don’t like to speculate, Guilt began uneasily, but in all honesty, the only one of my siblings who would be able and willing to try anything this despicable would be my sister Vengeance.
The balcony was wide, stretching along the one-way glass pane that allowed spectators to observe the surgeons as they worked. However, the vast majority of the five rows of seats were vacant, due to the only ponies allowed in being Luna, Aurora, and Dash’s first doctors. About half a dozen Royal Guard were present, guarding the doctors, the entryways, and the princesses, but Twilight suspected there were far more outside the main doors.
“Twilight? What’s the matter?” Luna asked upon seeing her enter from the surgery chamber. Aurora stood up, as well, seeing in Twilight’s eyes that something was amiss.
Twilight tossed a glance at the doctors. They hadn’t even seemed to notice her entrance, which was odd, but they may have just been intent on memorizing Guilt’s methods. Still, if what he said was true... “Luna, this is really important,” she began quietly, leaning in.
Luna nodded and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
“Guilt thinks that the original doctors sabotaged Dash’s wings,” Twilight murmured as softly as she could into Luna’s ear. “He says that they meant for her never to recover.”
Twilight cringed at Luna’s audible scoff. “Twilight, their families have been working with the Royal Family for generations! They’re loyal and possess unrivaled expertise, and moreover, they’re some of the most diligent, selfless ponies I’ve ever met in my entire, immortal life. What is your proof?”
Aurora, fortunately, stepped in to save face. “Maybe I should ask them the details and stuff. Y’know, see if they get nervous or anything. We can go from there, alright? Aren’t your guards trained to notice if somepony’s lying or not?”
“They are, but...” Luna shook her head, still unsure. “I guess it couldn’t hurt... Guard?” she called, and one of her dark-colored guards stepped over. “Watch Doctor Knocking and his cohorts to see if they show any signs of unease while Aurora asks them a few questions.”
The guard nodded, and discreetly trained his eyes on the doctors, who were still intently watching Guilt work on Dash.
“I’m taking your word for this, Twilight. I do not want to embarass myself in front of my staff,” Luna warned.
Twilight nodded, swallowing her anxiety.
Aurora walked over to the group of professionals and asked, “Um, Doc?” Dr. Knocking didn’t answer, so she tried again. “Hello? I need to ask you some things.” Still no answer. She walked around, using her body to block the doctor’s line of sight. “Look, Doctor, I know you wanna watch Guilt and all, but...” She paused. “But...”
Twilight’s ear twitched, her instincts screaming that something had gone horribly wrong. The guards shifted anxiously, glancing over toward Aurora.
“Hey, sis?” Aurora asked, her lip trembling slightly. “You... You might wanna come see this.”
“What?” Luna asked, though she appeared to already know what had happened. “What is it?”
“...Sis, I'm really sorry but...” Aurora swallowed, closing her eyes and turning away. “You’re going to need some new doctors.”
Luna gently pushed Aurora aside and looked into the doctors’ eyes. She nudged Knocking slightly, but there was no response. “Oh, no,” she breathed. “They can’t just be...” Snapping out of her trance, she ordered weakly, “Guards... send for our best mortician.”
The guards nodded, and a couple of them left to inform the rest of their ranks.
“Should we stop the surgery?” Aurora asked. “I mean, with Drammatica’s agents on the prowl, everypony’s going to know what happened in, like, two hours, if we’re even that lucky. There’ll be a mob!”
No, Guilt chimed in suddenly, making Twilight jump.
Stop doing that! she complained.
Guilt ignored her. I’m too far along to quit now. The damage caused to Dash’s wings is inconsequential, even though what it implies is troubling. I’m almost ready to begin the third step; to get halfway done and then have to stop would be calamitous!
Twilight swallowed. “Guilt doesn’t think stopping right now would be a good idea.”
“Without professionals watching Guilt, he could be performing the very same sabotage he accused Knocking of!” Luna argued. “I cannot simply take his word that is safe to leave him in charge of Dash’s life!”
“Then take mine!” Twilight retorted, taking an angry step forward. Realizing what she had said, she paused, and said with less confidence, “I... I trust him.”
Luna’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but she eventually said, “Alright, Twilight. But you will have to continue without me,” she stated. “I must attend to this disaster.” Then, with two guards at her sides, she departed. As she opened the door, though, she caught a glimpse of the mayhem and noise lying just beyond.
Aurora shuddered, glancing back at the doctors. A couple guards had entered and were carrying them off one by one. “I really, really hope I don’t get surprised like that again.”
Twilight bit her lip. “I’d better get back inside with Dash. Are you going to be okay on your own, or do you want to come, too?”
“She’s your friend, not mine. Yet,” Aurora added. “Anyway, yeah, I’ll be fine, hopefully. I’ll watch from the sidelines and watch to see if anything bad goes down. But you should probably get in there; Guilt isn’t known for his patience.”
Twilight nodded, then cantered back into the main chamber.
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*******
You’re just in time. I’m almost ready to start, and Dash is becoming antsy, Guilt began, brushing a hoof over Dash’s left wing. It twitched slightly as its insides were rearranged.
Dash looked up at Twilight, as if asking what had happened.
“Dash, don’t worry about it,” Twilight said, bringing a small smile to her lips.
Dash gave Twilight a slightly incredulous look, though it was tinged with fear.
Twilight squeezed in-between Pinkie and Rarity and looked Dash straight in the eye, cupping her face in her hoof. “Dash, please, just relax. Take deep breaths, okay? For me?”
Dash huffed slightly, but she managed to relax herself, shutting her eyes tightly. With all three of them here... I can do this. I’m ready for this! Bring it, Guilt, I’m going to show you how tough I am!
Guilt suddenly stopped working on Dash, then mouthed ‘Now’ to Twilight in a way that Rarity would notice. Twilight gave her a discreet glance and raised a hoof to her lips. Rarity looked like she was about to protest, but the look in Twilight’s eyes forced her to keep quiet.
Dash’s restraints suddenly tightened, and Dash’s first shocked gasp echoed through the silent chambers. She struggled slightly, but she was completely immobilized by Guilt’s tethers and nearly muzzled by his gag. Pinkie’s eyes widened, and she looked up at Twilight in shock, but Twilight simply shook her head, trying to tune out the muffled screams emanating from Dash’s frame.
The pain started as tiny pricks, then flooded through her like mallets smashing into her sides as her wings suddenly flared to life. The dull numbness that had assaulted her for the past few weeks was replaced by a burn akin to lying on a bed of hot coals. It was as if two nets of pure pain had been suddenly grafted to her back, radiating waves of pure agony that wracked the rest of her body.
After the first, shocked pain had receded, Dash felt several snaps. Her bones were being twisted and bent, slowly regaining their grip on her damaged apendages, but to Dash it was like her wings were being run through a grinder. She tried to thrash, to exert any amount of control over her situation, but the bonds only held her tighter. It got to the point where her breathing was constricted, and she felt lightheaded for a moment, but the pain slammed her struggling mind back into the ground.
She had experienced torn ligaments and wing sprains before, but now all those horrible experiences were being compounded into one. A complex web of searing acid flowed through her veins, burning her from the inside. She arched her back as the fabric of her wings was suddenly wrenched back into place, and she bit down on her gag in a feeble attempt to rid her mind of her agony.
The pain ebbed for just a moment, and Dash blinked the water out of her eyes, looking up at Twilight, Rarity, and Pinkie, searching desperately for the faintest hint of mercy. However, she only received murmured words of encouragement which did little to halt the gradual fuse she felt travelling up the rim of her wings.
It was as if she had flown into a waterfall. An immense pressure from above crushed her wings, and she felt woozy, as if she were hanging upside-down. Her vision was tinted red for a moment, then it all receded, and she felt cold. The icy chill numbed the sear of the pain, but not for long. Soon, it settled to an unbearable ache, like the pain of a broken bone.
She rested her head on the table, giving in to her anguish and letting it envelop her. It felt like a soft blanket, and as she slowly faded into the shadows, she felt the pain slowly release her from her bonds.
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*******
Dash’s eyes shot open.
She was back in the hospital, with the setting sun’s ever-fading rays coloring her sheets and bandages a cascade of orange and red. Her wings were just as bandaged and immobile as ever--but there was a startling difference: When she tried to move them, there was a slight twitch. A response, signalling that, by some miracle, they had once again been infused with life.
For a moment, she was unsure how to react. I guess... that’s good? She shook her head, trying to rid herself of her shock. That means... That means Guilt fixed them! All right! “Yes!” she exclaimed. “The Element of Loyalty is back in business!”
She heard a snort to her left, and turned to see Aurora sleeping on the couch next to her. “Hng... huh?” She shifted slightly before losing her balance and toppling onto the floor.
Dash stifled a giggle. “Um, what?”
“I’m awake!” Aurora said, wilding looking around, further matting her already messy mane. Her eyes locked on Dash. “Oh, jeez, I was supposed to be waiting for you to wake up!”
“Well, I just did, so you didn’t miss much,” Dash replied with a grin.
“Then let’s just keep this between us, okay?” Aurora grumbled, stretching her tired muscles. “Ugh... What time is it, anyway?”
“Uhmm...” Dash began, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. “Six in the morning. So, sunrise, I guess. Sorry for waking you up.”
“Sleep is for the weak anyway,” Aurora said with a grin. “Now lets get those stupid bandages off. I wanna see your new wings.”
Dash scooted up against the back of the bed as Aurora approached her. “Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute! You sure this is the best idea?”
“Guilt set you in bandages so that when you woke up you wouldn’t just go flying off without somepony watching you. Well, we all did rock-paper-scissors, and that somepony is me. So let go already!” Aurora ordered. “C’mon, get up! And close your eyes, too, so that you get to see your new wings, y’know, all at once, or something.”
“They’re not that different, are they?” Dash asked warily.
Aurora sighed with exasperation. “I’m not good with words. Just do it, okay?”
Dash slipped out of bed and did as Aurora said, closing her eyes while simultaneously allowing Aurora to slowly unwrap her wings like they were two big Hearth’s Warming presents. When she opened her eyes and looked at them, she didn’t see much different at first. They feel exactly like my old ones... Which, I guess, is the best I could have hoped for, in the end. But there was a subtle difference; when she looked closely at the tips of her feathers after folding and unfolding her new wings for the first time, she saw that they had orange tips instead of being light blue like the rest of her.
“...Orange?” Dash asked quietly after a forlorn pause.
Aurora saw the look in Dash’s eyes, and replied softly, “Orange is Guilt’s signature color. That’s all, okay?”
Dash took a long pause before finally saying, “Yeah... yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Aurora grinned slightly. “Hey? What about that race you promised me?”
Dash’s eyes lit up at the distraction. “Hey, yeah, you’re right! When and where?”
“No time like the present,” Aurora said, glancing out the window. “And I bet the wind is just right.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Dash asked.
They both rushed out of the room, both of them failing to notice the unnaturally organized clouds that hung in the sky, as if somepony had placed an ominous halo around Fillydelphia.
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[Note]: I do not own anything in this story that already belongs to someone else.
This story takes place BEFORE season two, but AFTER season one.
Please let me know if a link doesn’t work.