//------------------------------// // The Aftermath // Story: DayBreak // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Homecoming A carriage rumbled through the roads north of Manehattan. The taxi driver glanced back at his payload, which had been silent since the trip began. Care Carrot leaned out the window, watching the familiar landscape slide past. Rolling farmlands lay patchwork white in the wintery ground. There was a dormant cornfield. Wheat grew across the road. In the fall, the hills were orange with pumpkins. The driver stopped at the end of a long, dirt driveway. He nodded back to her. “Manehattan Carrot Farm.” Care opened the door and shuffled through her pockets for bits. After a moment’s thought, she pulled out a silver piece for the tip. The driver took the varied change with a smile. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Have a happy holidays!” “You, too.” Her hooves crunched gravel as she walked. The farmhouse was at the top of the hill, as picturesque as it ever was. Light shone in the windows, the small candles being the only decoration needed to make it beautiful and festive. A hint of the ornamented pine tree peeked through the living room window. She climbed onto the porch. The boards creaked in all the familiar places, alongside a few new noisy patches. She stood before the door, chewing the inside of her cheek, before knocking three times. The door was answered by a small earth pony colt. He gazed at her with suspicion. When she smiled at him, he gasped and slammed the door. She heard him running through the house, shouting “Care’s here! Care’s here!” There was a thump as somepony stubbed their hoof. Care took a step back and listed to muffled voices asking him why he didn’t let her in. The door handle jiggled and turned. She found herself facing two earth ponies, a stallion and a mare. The stallion’s droopy mustache shook. The mare dabbed her eyes with her shawl. Care smiled nervously. “Mom? Dad?” They surged forward and enveloped Care with a firm hug. She nuzzled up against them, letting herself breathe a sigh of relief. She opened her eyes and sucked on her lip. “I… I have a lot to tell you guys.” They let her come inside, where it was warm and cozy. The little colt stood firm, blocking her path. “You’re late for supper!” Care ruffled his mane. “I missed you, too, Sprout.” She was greeted by her sisters next, one older and one younger, with firm yet unsure hugs. The six of them sat around the table, with Hearth’s Warming supper laid out in all its glory. They listened intently as Care relayed her story. She watched as various expressions flitted over their faces. Sorrow, anger, fear, unease, but always with a little happiness hovering along the edges. Her older sister tensed when she was hurt. Her younger sister laughed at Daring’s antics. Her little brother Sprout cheered when she battled Hurricane. Her father teared up when she spoke of her knighting, while her mother cried openly. At the end of her tale, she wasn’t sure what else to say. So they didn’t say anything—they just sat together, enjoying being together. It didn’t take long for Sprout to get restless and strongly suggest they do something fun. Care’s father told him to get his violin, while Care’s older sister sat at the family piano. Sprout was a novice player, the piano was out of tune, and nobody had much talent for singing. To Care’s ears, it still sounded pretty darn good. “When the snow begins falling And days become shorter Hope hovers like dust in the air “Then family comes calling To wood, brick, and mortar But home can be found everywhere” *** Offspring The iron, enchanted cell door crashed closed behind Caution. He looked back with his one good eye, giving a fiery glare to the prison guard. “Oi can walk by myself, thankee.” The guard scowled and disappeared down the hall, into the glare of the light. Caution brushed himself off. The floor was swamped with dust. The walls were covered with odd little symbols, carved by previous inmates. A single, solitary, barred window lay above him, letting in the sunlight. Closer inspection revealed that it was actually an artificial lamp; he was too far underground for the light to penetrate. “Welcome to the ninth circle of hell,” said a voice from across the hall. Caution peered through his bars. A donkey jack lay in the other cell. He wore a purple robe with a thin gold belt. One of his rear legs was missing. “Aspen the Alliterative?” Caution muttered. “How did you end up in a pony prison?” “Lightninggale has no prisons secure enough to hold traitors.” Aspen leaned back in his cot. He slurped from a bowl in his hooves. “Therein lies the bitter irony.” The donkey squinted. “Why are you here? I suppose it has something to do with the attack on Celestia.” Caution ground his hoof into the cold stone floor. “Somethin’ like that.” “Hmm.” Aspen glanced into his empty bowl and tossed it across the room. “I half-expected the perpetrators of that crime would have been sent straight to Tartarus.” “Tartarus is for immortals.” Caution thumped down on his bed. He stared at the dark little corner where the toilet and sink lay. “The people they send here are slightly more temporary inmates.” “Oh, of course,” Aspen said. “We’re only here for life.” Caution leaned against the wall. He was content to stay silent, but Aspen spoke up. “I thought I recognized you,” he said. “You can tell a lot about a person by their hat… even when they no longer wear it. You were one of Celestia’s bodyguards.” Caution laughed. “You c’n tell so much about me, except for the fact that oi don’t wanna listen to your horseapples.” “I have to find some way to amuse myself in Solitaire.” “Then amuse yerself quietly.” Caution put his hooves behind his head. He scratched an itch on the tip of his nose. Aspen’s bed groaned. The donkey scrambled across it, pulling up the sheets. “Oh my—” Caution rolled his eyes. “What are you on about now?” Further complains died deep in Caution’s chest. In the hallway, between the two cells, right underneath a bright lamp, there was a black, writhing, growing shadow. Tendrils snaked around the bars. Whispering voices tickled his ears. A strong sense of cold pervaded the prison. Caution stood up and jumped immediately to the bars. “Did you find her? Did you bring her? Where is she?” The blob of darkness shrunk in on itself, taking solid form. It shifted into the shape of a pony—a gray coat was covered with a plain, black suit. It placed a boater hat on its head. “Caution. Pleasant to see you.” “Where is she?” Caution pressed his face against the iron. “You promised you would find her!” “Yes, yes, we’ve all made promises.” The pony smiled politely. “Yourself included.” Caution opened his mouth. He swallowed hard. “I did as you asked. I let Hurricane get through. Later, I even shut off Celestia’s life support for you. She died.” “But she is not dead.” The gray pony shrugged. “Does it really count if it didn’t take?” Caution reached for the pony. It backed away, waving him off. “Whoa, whoa,” it said. “Ask a simple, easy question…” It glanced back at Aspen. ”Hi. Be seeing you later.” Aspen hid behind his cot. “Listen. Listen to me.” The pony tapped its forehead and kept its eyes on Caution. “The Unseelie Court agrees that you did indeed fulfill part of your obligation. In turn, we agreed that we should fulfill part of ours.” Caution sat down, gripping the bars. “Which part?” “We agreed to find and deliver the mare you love.” The pony lifted his hooves to one side, and then carried them to the other. “You promised to injure and kill Celestia. Well, you injured her, so we found her. It’s fairly equivalent.” Caution let his head droop. “Where is Aria?” “A land far from Equestria. Basically unreachable.” The pony tilted its head up. “Unless the sirens succeed in their plans.” Caution shut his eyes tight. He stomped the floor. The pony dug through his suit pocket. “I did have something to give you. Evidence that we did indeed find her. One of her letters.” Caution blinked. He pressed his teeth together. “Letters to who?” “To you, of course.” The pony let out a light chuckle. “She never got up the nerve to send them, it seems. They are rather sweet.” “Give it here!” Caution leaped up. He held his hoof out desperately. “Please. Give me something of her.” The pony dangled the page from his hoof. Caution snatched it away with a hasty swipe. He pulled the paper close. It was unmistakably her looping mouthwriting. It was obviously unfinished, not even a draft. Just thoughts and scribbles. There were three variations of “Dear Caution” at the beginning. Most of the body of the text was crossed out and blotted. Random song lyrics dotted the margins. But it was hers. Caution pressed it against his chest. He let out a harsh breath. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” The gray pony bared its teeth in a slick smile. “I hope you enjoy every last word.” Caution’s eyes trailed across the page, picking out individual words and phrases. He stopped. His eyes widened. Caution I love— I wanted to tell you— We were going to have— I got pregnant. “How long have you two been separated?’ The gray pony cupped its chin. “Nearly eighteen years? I wonder if that means anything.” Caution’s breath came in short, gasping stops. He found other words among the scribbles. Daughter showed up three times. Left her. Wanted to tell you. Scared. Left her. Abandoned. Alley. Gone. Left her. The gray pony giggled. He faded away into shadow. “I hope you two are very happy together.” “I have a daughter?” Caution looked up at the pony. “I’m a father?” The pony didn’t answer. He vanished piece by piece, until nothing was left but his sparkly-white grin. “You have to explain this!” Caution rattled the bars of his cell. “Take me to her! Take me!” Caution grabbed his cot and ripped it out of the wall. It hit the iron bars with a resounding clang. “Where is my love? Where is my daughter?” “Guards!” Aspen screamed. “Help! Guards!” The guards stormed down the hallway. One shot a dart into Caution’s cell, hitting him right in the neck. Sedatives flowed through the powerful earth pony, relaxing his muscles and clouding his mind. “Aria!” He collapsed onto his side. The guards opened the cell and tied him up in a straightjacket. Caution’s head lolled. “Aria…” He lay with his cheek against the cement floor. He stared at the letter, with guards restraining him all the while. He glared. “Aria… why didn’t you tell me?” The final word on the letter, hidden beneath chicken scratch and spilled ink, could barely be made out. Caution was familiar with the word. He had seen it. He had been there. He knew ponies from the place. Ponyville. “Oi’ll find her, Aria,” Caution whispered. “Oi’ll make this right. Oi swear oi’ll make this right.” *** Alliance Seabreeze decided he was spending far too much time in Beefland; the land of giant, klutzy minotaurs and their enormous, rampant biceps. If he wasn’t dodging hooves he was tumbling out of control from some loser’s uncontrolled sneeze. Up ahead, he saw the least annoying of the species: President Mangle. The massive minotaur politician ran his fingers through his beard, looking over some paperwork that Seabreeze couldn’t care less about if he tried. “Vhee hev a situation,” Seabreeze said, trying to parse the ugly, unwieldy, slow language of Equish. “And vhee need to discuss it now!” “You’re telling me?” Mangle let the next year’s budget flop to the table. “First Celestia gets attacked, then it seems like everybody’s getting assassinated, and now you wanna tell me there was a minor war in Equestria? What in the name of all things beefy is going on?” “Vhat happened vhas exactly vhat vhee vhere afraid of.” Seabreeze landed and paced across the length of Mangle’s desk. “Celestia made a poor decision and paid the price. Vhee hev all been in danger ever since! Vhat can vhee do to prevent the vherld from gooing oop in flames?” Mangle tapped the tips of his fingers against the budget. His massive chest muscles expanded with a strong breath. “I think there’s only one thing we can do…” “Really?” Seabreeze fluttered up and bopped Mangle on the nose. “Then please, share vheeth the audience vhat is so obvious!” “If Celestia falls again,” Mangle said, “we have to be ready to take control of the sun.” “Th—Take control oof—” Seabreeze floated gently to the desk. “Great Scott.” “This is beefy,” Mangle said. He pressed his palms together with all his might. “But it’s gotta be done. If Celestia loses control of the sun, all that stands between the world and eternal darkness is…” “An ex-psycho, a librarian, and a supermodel.” Seabreeze scratched his head. “Is Cadenza a supermodel, or is she joost that pretty?” “Out of the three, I give Cadenza the most credit.” Mangle shrugged shoulders the size of one pony each. “I mean, she’s the one who’s an actual politician.” He pressed three fingers against his forehead. “Whatever. We’re getting off-track. Point is, we gotta find out how ponies control the sun, and then try to replicate that effect with what we have.” Seabreeze slapped a hoof to his face. “And eyew make it sound sooo easy.” “Well, it’s simple, not easy.” Seabreeze sat down. He flicked his curly mane back and steadied himself, finding his center with an easy breath. He smiled up at Mangle. “Ookay. Ookay. Say eyew’re noot crazy. Say I go along weeth thees madness. Vhere vhould vhee start?” Mangle blinked. He blinked again. He blinked some more. Seabreeze leaped up with a shout. “Eyew already deed soomthing, deedn’t eyew? Deedn’t eyew? Eyew deed soomting stoopid!” “Calm down, beef bro,” Mangle said, raising his hands in defense. “I didn’t do anything without thinking it through. The help sort of just… plopped into my lap. In a way. Metaphorically.” “Eyew are a living oxymoron!” Seabreeze crossed his forelegs. “Emphasis on moron.” “You don’t even know what my help is.” “I know it’s stoopid!” “You do not!” “Do too!” Mangle clapped his hands together. The massive sound silenced them both. He smiled, gritting his teeth almost hard enough to break a tooth. “Come with me, and I can show you I’m not completely crazy.” “Oh, noo.” Seabreeze settled down on Mangle’s shoulder. “Joost a leetle crazy. That’s all.” Mangle walked through the Egg, the seat of Beefland politics; the capitol building itself. Windowless hallways and intricately-carved furniture surrounded them on every side. In the deepest part of the building, Mangle brought them to a stop. He fiddled with a ring of keys before unlocking the final door to the innermost room. “He came to me,” Mangle said, “but the decision to allow his help was mine. I stand by my decision. You can reject it, but I’m gonna go forward with it.” “I… I trust eyew.” Seabreeze sat and tugged at his tight jumpsuit. “Oopen the door. Let’s hev at thees marvelous idea.” Mangle pulled the door open. The two of them faced a gigantic chair, one that would dwarf even the beefiest minotaur. There was a creak, a groan, a whine of protest, as the chair swiveled. Andean Ursagryph gripped the armrests with his sharp talons. “Greetings, gentlecreatures.” Seabreeze tilted his head. He glanced from the griffon to the minotaur. He stuck his tongue out at Mangle. “Eyew’re an imbecile.” “No, please, shut the door behind you.” Andean leaned forward. “We have much to discuss, Seabreeze, not the least of which is your alliance with President Mangle behind the scenes.” Mangle closed and locked the door. “Trust me, Seabreeze. He’s beefy. We need him.” Seabreeze leveled his eyebrows. He took off and hovered a respectable distance away from the oversized griffon king. “Speak eyewr piece.” Andean nodded. He clasped his talons and rocked back. “My time in Equestria has taught me many things, and reinforced several preconceived notions. Not the least of which is Celestia’s fallibility.” “Shocker, shocker,” Seabreeze said. The griffon king smirked. He tossed a candied strawberry into his beak. “What President Mangle sees, and what I see, is that Celestia does not require a coalition to stand against her, but an alliance to stand ready… in case she fails. That is all I ask, and that is all I intend.” “Really?” Seabreeze turned up his nose. “Thees, cooming froom the vharlike griffon king?” Andean let his talons drop to his lap. “There are things more important than glory. There are different sources of honor.” He looked up at the breezie, his eyes hard. “I have only ever cared for my people, High Pariah Seabreeze. I have only ever wanted what was best for them and my daughters. There is something coming, something far larger than we can comprehend at the moment. Something darker than we dare dream. It haunts my nightmares and foreshadows my every waking moment. Don’t you care for Breezy Bastion? I know you do. It consumes your thoughts. Your family consumes your thoughts.” He clicked his beak. “And if you’re anything like me, you would do great and terrible things to keep them safe.” Seabreeze gulped air. “Even take control oof the sun.” Andean nodded. “Even take control of the sun. If needed.” Mangle snapped his fingers to get their attention. “But we can’t be ready to raise the sun unless we know how.” “I had a few ideas about that.” Andean stood up and spread his wings wide. “Have either of your heard of the creature known as Ahuizotl? He has made a few attempts worth investigating.” *** Empire The Badlands had a dry heat. Skin turned to leather. Water faded into the dust. Rocks cracked after centuries of being battered with harsh wind. The sun blazed in the sky and chased the lingering shade to the far reached of the world. Ahuizotl hated it. He much preferred the humidity of the jungle. The comfort of a ready supply of water. The blanket of mist in the morning. The dew collecting on leaves. The green. He moved with his trademark natural grace over rocks and through crags, seeking any sign of life in the harsh desert. Time was short, he knew. He had to lay the foundations before he was overtaken. There was a secret to be shared and a power to be gained. He reached the top of a plateau and looked over the valley. There, in the near distance, there lay a series of columns. They tapered to a point near the top, and were dotted with holes. He smiled; he had found them. His soft paws pattered across the sandstone. The spires loomed overhead like dilapidated mountains. The holes were not entrances, as he had suspected, but merely air holes that led deep into the hives. Ahuizotl grinned as he came upon a large, crumbling tunnel that led downward. He saw no sentinels, no guardians, no defenders standing ready. He was about to step inside when he chanced a glance upward. Queen Chrysalis gaped at him, her hollow eye sockets hissing in the wind. Ahuizotl shuffled a step back and brought the entire scene into view. The changeling queen lay sprawled on the rocks, a long stake thrust through her torso, nailing her to the ground. Her carcass had been polished to a sheen by sandstorms, and her insides had been dried out with the scorching heat. There was nothing left but a hollow shell of the once-proud ruler. Ahuizotl grimaced. “Perhaps negotiations will not go as smoothly as I suspected.” He stepped into the cave. The stone turned cool against his footpads. The air turned stale and stifling, with the smell of strange bodies assailing his nostrils. Wind blew into his face at steady intervals, as if he was walking down the throat of an enormous dragon. The floor fell out from under him. A slide took him deep into the earth. He grasped at the walls with mighty claws, but he could get no footholds through the thick slime coating. He moved faster and faster as he approached whatever destination the changelings had in store for him. He bumped his head on an outcropping and crumpled to a halt. He rose swiftly, reaching over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of a curved sword. He snarled and wiped the ooze away from his blue coat. “You’re going to want to stay still, traveler.” He froze, obeying the words of the unfamiliar voice. He looked around and found himself the target of several poison-tipped spears, all manned by changeling drones. He released his hilt. “To whom to I have the pleasure of speaking to?” Hooves clapped. “Lights!” Bioluminescent fungus growing on the walls and ceiling glowed. Blue light flooded the room, revealing a small army of changelings standing between him and a throne. A queen sat upon the chair, her posture anything but regal. Her legs hung over the armrests, while her head lolled against a pillow. Her carapace was black, the same as all changelings’. The difference lay in her eyes and mane, both of which were a dirty, unkempt pink. She waved her wings lazily. Her voice was distorted by a buzz in her throat. “You speak to Queen Chrysalis the Second, daughter of Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant. The most important question to me is: Who are you?” Ahuizotl drew himself up. He flicked a glob of slime at the spear bearers. “I am Ahuizotl, Dweller of the Jungle and future God of the Day.” Chrysalis II lifted her head, her eyelids drooping low on her brow. A smile trailed across her lips. A low giggle escaped her throat. Ahuizotl set his jaw as she exploded into shrieking laughter. “What, like—” Chrysalis II sputtered. “Like in the Daring Do books? That Owie—owie… whatever you are?” A low murmur rolled across the assembled changelings, split between discussing why he was there, and just laughing at him. Ahuizotl bared his teeth and growled. “I’m surprised you know of the books.” “We do read, Mister Kittypaws.” Chrysalis II snorted. “You can’t be serious.” “I am.” He rubbed a blob of slime with the consistency of snot between the fingers on his tail. “I am real. I am powerful. I am Ahuizotl!” The entire changeling congregation broke out into deep belly-laughs. Ahuizotl pointed at the changeling queen. “Your mother knew of me! She knew that the jungle was my domain! Why else do you think you limped to the Badlands rather than your ancestral home?” Chrysalis II stopped laughing. She sat up and leaned heavily on the armrests. “Because my mother—” She spat the word. “—was an idiot and a monster. A beast who doomed our entire race with a failed attempt to take control from Celestia.” Ahuizotl narrowed one eye at a changeling beside him. The bug-like creature bared its fangs at him. He snarled at it. He turned back to the queen and raised a hand. “I am beginning to realize why I found the first Chrysalis in her current state.” “I slew her,” Chrysalis II said. “It was the only way to stop her suicidal plans.” She reached out to cup the chin of a changeling beside her throne. The drone closed its eyes and all but purred. “I realize something my mother never did. These creatures are my brothers and sisters. They are family. It is my responsibility to see them to safety.” She stalked down the steps to her throne, her cloven hooves making crunching sounds on dried mucus. “So remember that, Enemy of Daring Do, while you tell me exactly why you came to us.” Ahuizotl sat down and held his hands out, showing them to be empty. “Perhaps this talk would be expedited—” “Expawhat—?” Chrysalis II tilted her head. Ahuizotl rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t it be better if we talked without holding weapons at each other’s throats?” “You first.” Chrysalis II nodded to her soldiers. “Let him drop them.” Ahuizotl drew his swords and tossed them to the side. He turned slowly, letting her see that he was completely unarmed. “Satisfied?” She pouted. “Bring him a chair!” A large, black chair was dragged into the room and placed before the throne. Ahuizotl took a seat while Chrysalis II climbed to her place at the head of the room. “I have a proposition to make,” Ahuizotl said. “Your people have been in hiding all these years, correct?” Chrysalis II frowned. “Since the dawn of time.” “But especially since your mother’s failed attack.” She winced. “Ancient history.” “Is it?” Ahuizotl waved his hands around the room. “Look at your people. Do they look prosperous and happy? Do they look as though they live life to the fullest? You are dying out, my queen, and you must do something fast.” “I am.” Chrysalis II smiled at the changeling assembly before turning a sour glare at Ahuizotl. “I am preparing a group of ambassadors to visit Equestria to directly request a truce.” “Anti-changeling sentiment is strong in Equestria,” Ahuizotl said. “How far from the border do you think you’ll get before you are slain by a hail of arrows?” Chrysalis II’s throat bobbed. Her wings flitted behind her back. “Princess Celestia is a reasonable ruler—” “But she is hardly in charge now.” Ahuizotl clasped his hands together. “She is still weak from the attack. Unwell and unfit. The princesses Luna and… and Mi Amore Cadenza are leading the country while she rests.” Ahuizotl smiled as Chrysalis II shrunk back. “Aha. So you know the name. The very mare who your mother insulted most grievously during the Siege of Canterlot, ten years ago.” “Sh-she would understand,” Chrysalis II said, turning her head away. “She understands love.” “Yes, such as the love she feels for her husband.” Chrysalis II shut her eyes. A whine escaped her closed mouth. The changelings with spears crept closer. Ahuzotl didn’t bother to concern himself with them. “Your timing could not be worse, my queen. Do you really think they are ready to forgive such evils as your mother committed? No. Going to them would result in disaster.” The crowd whispered all around him. Worried faces looked to their queen, while others glared at Ahuizotl with unconcealed hatred. “Y-you are trying to manipulate me,” Chrysalis II said, licking her lips. “I can taste it in the air.” “Perhaps.” Ahuizotl shook a finger. “But taste again. Do I not believe the words I speak?” “You do.” She flashed her fangs at him. “But I remain unconvinced.” Ahuizotl nodded in understanding. “The road you suggest may work, in the long run. Your people could regain your dignity. Your people could regain their strength. They could be able to show their faces in public once more.” He stood up and flicked his tail. “Or they could be destroyed. Far more suddenly and finally than your mother could have ever accomplished.” “You leave Queen Chrysalis alone!” a changeling shouted. “Yeah, she’d never hurt us!” “Go home to your stupid jungle, Fuzzylips!” “Hack up a hairball!” Ahuizotl roared from deep within his chest. The sound rattled the stones and echoed off the walls. The changelings around him fled, giving him a wide berth. He smiled. “Now that I have your attention, I have another possible path.” Chrysalis II shook her head. “If you intend for us to go along with whatever mad scheme you have to fight… Daring Do… I promise I will have no part in it!” “I have but one intention for myself,” Ahuizotl said, placing a hand on his chest. His tail climbed up, its index finger pointing at the ceiling. “To take control of the sun.” He smiled at the queen. “But that is not the be-all, end-all. There are prizes for all that assist me in this venture. For you, there is the chance to return the changelings to their former glory.” Chrysalis II snapped at him. “We never had glory!” “But you did.” Ahuizotl rubbed his chin. “Or did your mother also neglect to teach you the stories of your history? The mighty changeling empire, the heroes of old, the deeds of mighty creatures. Even now, your ruins decorate the jungles in the north.” Chrysalis II sighed. He eyes flashed between her subjects and the creature before her. “That is no longer ours. That is no longer what we are, if it ever was. We are creatures hiding in the dark, hoping no one squishes us.” “Ah, but that is the one thing your mother got right. You are capable of so much more.” Ahuizotl sat in the chair, his smile wide. “And I have the means to give you that power.” “There is nothing you can—” “I have found the Spade of Hearts.” Chrysalis II flared her wings. Her subjects’ voices reached an uproar as objections, happiness, anger, surprise, and fear rolled across them. “Or,” Ahuizotl said, “at the least, I know where it is.” The queen shook, her voice vibrating along with her. “You l-lie.” “Now you know that isn’t true.” Ahuizotl propped his chin on a fist. “I know the location to the secret of the ancient changelings’ power; the dagger used to tear the very magic from ponies. One this is over, and I control the sun, I shall give it to you.” A predatory grin snaked across his mouth. “Only if you assist me, of course.” “No, queen!” “Do it! You have to do it!” “We need it! It’s our only chance!” “We can’t become monsters again!” “Enough!” Chrysalis II stomped her throne. “Shut up, all of you!” She glared at Ahuizotl. “That dagger is the very symbol of why ponies distrust and hate us. It is the worst of slavery and murder! I shall not allow its use in my kingdom, and I shall not even think about helping anyone who wants it!” Ahuizotl made one last attempt. “Your hive will—” “The dagger is something my mother would have used!” Chrysalis II screamed. “I am not my mother!” He withdrew his outstretched hand. He sent the surrounding changelings a dim glower. “Very well. The offer stands—for any or all of you!—until the day the sun warms my back with its power.” Chrysalis II turned up her nose. “Get him out of my hive.” The changeling spear bearers angled their poisoned tips towards the jungle lord. Ahuizotl tipped his head. “Lead me to the exit, and I shall bother you no longer. I had one question, though—” Chrysalis II scrunched her muzzle. “If you hate your mother so much,” Ahuizotl said, “why do you share her name?” Chrysalis II blinked. She raised an eyebrow as a nearby changeling, then looked back at Ahuizotl. “B-because it’s my name. It’s the only thing that a never changes for a changeling. To give it up would be to say I wasn’t a changeling anymore.” Ahuizotl picked his swords up and slid them into their sheaths. “Very well, Chrysalis.” He hissed her name. “You’ll come to me. When your world crumbles around you, and your hives run out of food, you will come to me.” “I doubt it, tuna-breath.” Chrysalis II stuck her tongue out. “Say hello to Daring Do and your other imaginary friends.” Ahuizotl grinned as he was led through the dark, grimy corridors. The seeds had been planted; who knew what sort of fruit would spring up? *** Battle “What were you thinking?” Merry Mare followed the Maid through the bowels of the mountain. She felt her blood boil over with every word she spoke. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have screwed up everything! What possessed you to—?” “Dulcimer needed to be put down!” The Maid whirled on her. Her silvery braid flowed over one shoulder. “You saw it! You saw what he planned to do! He was going to poison the timeline!” She sneered and turned into a side room. A simple bed lay in the middle, beside a vanity with makeup and hygienic utensils. The Maid set about beautifying her youthful face. “I don’t understand why the Master was going to let him do it. I saw a problem and used the tools I had with me. When it didn’t work out, I improvised.” Merry sat on the edge of the bed, working hard on her breathing exercises. “You revealed us to them. They know we’re sirens.” “But that’s all they know.” The Maid squirted toothpaste onto a brush. “They don’t know who we are, or where we live, or how many of us there are—” “Three.” Merry rubbed her spectacles with the edge of her cloak. “Celestia will know there’s always three.” The Maid lowered her ears. She touched the blue sigil around her neck. “I’m more curious about why the Master revealed himself to Celestia. I’m curious about why he wanted to let Dulcimer screw up history. I’m curious—” She sent Merry a withering glare. “—about why we’re still following him after the debacle with summoning Platinum.” “Because he’s still the best chance we have.” Merry Mare set her spectacles on her snout. “If the Master wins, the people get their freedom, other countries get their power, we become rulers…” “You get your son?” The Maid shoved the toothbrush into her mouth. She glowered at anything she could lay her eyes on, speaking around the brush. “Why do you—ahem—why do you still think he can do it?” “Do not forget who gave us this power,” Merry said. “He is a strong and ancient individual, just imprisoned.” “Maybe I don’t want to free the creep.” The Maid spat into a tin. “Maybe I want to take the sigils and run.” “Well, of course.” Merry laid her hoof on the Maid’s shoulder. “If the Master is unable to deliver on his promises, we’ll just have to take matters into our own hooves.” She leaned close to the Maid’s ear, muttering with whispered breaths. “But if I’m going to commit the abomination of forcefully raising the dead, I’d rather do it with the entire Unseelie Court at my back.” The Maid peered over her glasses. She patted blush onto her cheeks. “You’re playing him.” “I’m going along with him,” Merry said. “For the moment.” “Then maybe I’ll go along with you.” The Maid grinned. “For the moment. Keep me posted.” “Don’t worry so much.” Merry stood up and cracked her back. “The Crone will study Starswirl’s mirror, we’ll regroup our forces, and strike where Equestria least expects it. We all have our parts to play.” She raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, how is yours going?” The Maid sighed. “After Dulcimer kicked the bucket, all his finances went back to Blueblood. We have no way of getting at it.” Merry whistled through her teeth. “Then maybe it’s time to start funding the troops from our own coffers. Quietly.” “I hate to say it out loud.” The Maid rinsed her mouth out and spat again. The tin clanged joyfully. “But the restaurant business isn’t really lucrative enough to fund both its own operations and our little army.” She leaned back to look at Merry. “It might be time to enact Operation: Inheritance.” Merry Mare searched the Maid’s face for any trace of regret. She found none. An uneasy feeling brewed in the pit of her stomach. “Not yet. We don’t need to take that sort of measure until things become critical. Keep it on the back burner, ready to use.” The maid shrugged and turned back. “Your call, sister.” The Crone hobbled into the room, brushing her curly gray mane haphazardly. “We’re on in ten minutes, guys. The Master expects us to give the troops a little encouragement.” The Maid laughed. “That’s no surprise, after what we’ve just gone through. What song are we singing?” Merry smirked. She motioned the Crone closer. “How about an oldie, but a goodie? One we’ve sung before, but…” She let teeth show between her lips. “Catered to the situation?” The Crone scratched her neck. “Mm. I think I can hook you up with that.” *** The three of them stood in the midst of the Grove of Golden Apples. Merry’s sigil shone bright yellow, while the Maid’s shimmered a soft blue. The Crone had no sigil, but she hummed right alongside them. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. ” Nearly three-hundred ponies gathered around, some having traveled all the way from Canterlot. The warriors who had not participated in the battle were gathered beside dancing Unseelie Fae, their eyes and ears eager for the siren’s song. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. ” The Maid stepped forward, her teeth sparkling in the torchlight. “We know that life can be so bitter We know the world can be so cruel But there’s a time of coming splendor If you can use this simple tool “Why just live with hurt and pain When you were born a fighter? Here’s a chance for wealth and fame Become the star that’s rising higher” Merry felt power surge through her sigil. It clawed through her fairy strings and to her throat. Her words sprang out as enchantments, lending their invigorating power to the people. “You and me, me and you We’ll rule this kingdom forever With us you can do Greater deeds than ever “If you follow Every order that we utter Then we can tear Their Equestria asunder” The Maid took the lead again, her young voice full of power and authority. “The day’s coming, and you’ll know it There’s a final coming test The war is waging all around But you can show them you’re the best” The Crone stepped into the light, and all three lent their voices. The Crone had no sigil, so Merry and the Maid sang all the louder to compensate. “Battle! We’re drawing near it Let’s have a battle Show who’s number one! “Our sabers rattle! Oh, can you hear it? Let’s have a battle! Battle! Battle! Battle for the sun!” The hoards joined in, from the simplest earth pony to the darkest fae. They shouted, they screamed, they raved, they cackled. It was mayhem and melee. Each cry became more grotesque and ghastly, warped by the magic of the sirens’ song. Merry plucked a golden apple from the branches overhead. She bit deep into it and let its strength join that of her sigil. For the first time in a long time, she felt assured. “Though the plan reached a snag We can come back fighting harder Pushing through the lag And coming out stronger “’Cause with us three We can cut through the delusion We can erase All your sorrow and confusion” She glanced behind her to the largest tree in the grove. The Master looked on, his greedy green eyes shining bright in the mirror. She sent him a smile she didn’t truly feel. His lies weighed too heavily for her liking. Whether he could help or not, she was getting her son back. She was taking control of Equestria. She would change things for the better. She would. She knew she would. “Battle! We’re drawing near it Let’s have a battle Show who’s number one! “Our sabers rattle! Oh, can you hear it? Let’s have a battle! Battle! Battle! Battle for the sun!”