The Cold of Winter

by Fedora

Under Construction

A large metal disk sat atop a plastic tarp covering the snow in the backyard of a small cottage, a block away from the site the Cyberponies had arrived. The Doctor was hard at work attaching cables to the underside of this disk.

The other three ponies paced back and forth impatiently.

Medley had a knot in her stomach. She couldn’t go anywhere for the town was crawling with changelings, but here she was utterly useless. They were being watched by a number of guards sitting atop the cottage roof.

Deciding that it wasn’t worth waiting around in the cold, Medley made her way to the outhouse by the edge of the woods. The large wooden hut had a crescent moon cut into the door. She swung it open and stepped inside. Inside was another door, also wooden. This one was blue, and had a sign indicating that it was free for public use. Medley stepped inside, and plopped herself down by the side of the TARDIS console.

Lyra had been peering after her.

“What’s her trip?” she asked.

“When you gotta go, you gotta go.” Derpy casually joked.

The Doctor looked up from his work.

“You two don’t know?” he muttered quiet enough for the nearest changelings not to hear. Both Derpy and Lyra blinked, so he pressed the matter.

“Those walls are a facade. My TARDIS is inside.” he whispered.

Derpy nodded.

A few minutes passed without much activity. Derpy rolled a large ball of snow around, placed another on top, and shaped a haphazard-looking snowpony. Lyra watched her, but with a blank stare and a glazed expression.

Medley eventually made her way out from the outhouse, and tromped through the snow toward the other two. Leaning in, she looked at the Doctor sandwiched between the disk and the tarp.

“What’re you making, Doc?”

The Doctor answered without looking up from under the disc, making his voice sound reverberated and tinny.

“A device that will attract time capsules.” he said, “Hopefully I’ll concoct a way of singling out the correct one, from the correct point in my timestream and force the Wolf to materialize.”

Medley seemed satisfied. Lyra leaned in and lifted the disk. In the bit of space between the disk and the tarp the Doctor had a second device he was tinkering with, which looked something like a futuristic typewriter.

“What are you actually making?” she muttered.

The Doctor smiled, and produced a small ornate hoof bracelet from inside his coat pocket.

“I’m fitting this with a perception filter.” he whispered, “but those guards can’t see, so I’m doing it simultaneously with the other project.”

Things were quiet for a few minutes. Lyra seemed to focus on the Doctor’s work for a bit, and then followed Medley’s example and disappeared to the ‘outhouse’. Medley kept stealing glances at the changelings guarding them.

“Medley, would you mind doing me a favor?” the Doctor asked.

“Sure.”

“Go on inside the house and get a bunch of refrigerator magnets, please.”

Medley nodded. She didn’t see what the use was, but whenever the Doctor did one of his weird science projects he usually asked for weird stuff. At least, that was her experience. She made her way to the back stoop, but the guard on the roof of the house jumped down to block her way.

She jumped back a little bit. The changeling’s eyes were a solid blue, and sharp fangs jutted out from a craggy row of sharp teeth. Not one to be intimidated, she puffed out her chest and demanded that she be let through.

“I have to retrieve supplies.” she said.

The changeling snarled at her, and snapped its fangs.

Getting the point, Medley returned to the Doctor with her tail between her legs.

“I couldn’t get inside.” she said.

“That’s alright,” came the Doctor’s voice from under the disc. He was dismantling the other device he had made, and seemed to be shifting focus to the main project of luring the Bad Wolf’s TARDIS.

“Er… I thought you needed the magnets.”

“Not anymore, thanks though.”

Not quite sure what to say, Medley tried to make small talk.

“I got a good look at his fangs though,” she said, “are those venomous?”

“Incredibly,” the Doctor replied, “but I’m not too worried.”

“Why’s that?”

He didn’t answer. She rolled her eyes. Looking over her shoulder to shoot Derpy a glance, Medley noticed that she had disappeared.

“Where’d Derpy go?” she asked

The Doctor lifted the disc up and glared at Medley.

“Shh… don’t bring attention to her absence.”

“But where’d she go?!”

“On a very important mission. She’ll be away for a few hours.”

Lyra returned from the outhouse, and her first response to Derpy’s sudden disappearance was to look about the yard, craning her neck and cocking her head to the side. She seemed to dismiss it quicker than Medley had, and went to watch what the Doctor was doing.

****

King Metamorphosis stood in the wreckage of the clock tower, surveying the town. It was abuzz with activity as his brood constructed defensive barriers. From this spot, he could see the streets and alleys of the village from above. They formed a haphazard grid, and in his head Metamorphosis mapped out potential routes.

A large group of worker changelings were in the process of building up large mounds of snow across the street and between houses on the north side of town. Wooden planks from houses and sheds would reinforce these mounds.

The king hoped that by the time the Cyberponies arrived a complete wall would be finished, cutting off access to the north side of town and forcing a confrontation on the south side, where there were taller buildings and more places for his soldiers to stage an ambush.

Metamorphosis looked to Canterlot, narrowing his gaze and fixating on the castle spires in the distance.

He had worked out who had organized this situation. The Wolf had helped him this far, only to stab him in the back.

The King wasn’t going to let him win. The Doctor was, for now, doing Metamorphosis’ bidding under the threat of violence. He was certain that the Doctor would try to defeat the Changelings and the Cyberponies alike. He wouldn’t give the Doctor the chance.

Something made a noise behind him on the roof, and the King turned to find one of his own soldiers standing there.

“Report!” he ordered.

The soldier simply stood, empty blue eyes completely still.

“What are you doing here?” The King growled, “Answer me!”

Then he saw it. A small, metallic device was lodged in the soldier’s ear. Little blips of light indicated that the device was receiving a signal of some kind.

Quite suddenly, the little changeling leaped at its ruler, baring its fangs and biting into the neck. Metamorphosis cried out, and sunk his own fangs into the drone’s neck. The two collapsed to the roof, writhing as a couple of injured insects with either one clamped down on the other’s throat.

With superior strength, the King’s jaw snapped all the way shut first, crushing the windpipe of his drone and causing it’s grip to slacken. The limp changeling lay on the ground while Metamorphosis stumbled back onto all fours, wheezing. With each breath some of the air escaped through a pair of holes in his own throat, causing searing pain to shoot through his body.

Two more drones landed on the roof of the clock tower, both exhibiting the mind control devices and baring their fangs.

A blast of green magic reduced the two controlled changelings to ash on the wind.

The king stood still for a moment, taking the shallowest possible breaths. Somehow, some of his soldiers had been afflicted with these devices to control their actions. How many were like this? Were they all tasked with killing him, or were some meant to subvert his defenses?

He took flight, determined to find the answer.