An intervention sends Twilight and her friends far from home, deep inside a hostile land, with only the agents of a suspicious foreign power to aid them – agents executing their final directive.
Taking place before Twilight’s ascension to the status of alicorn princess, this is the story of an intervention.
An intervention that sets quite a different chain of events into motion. An intervention that sends Twilight and her friends far from home, deep inside a hostile land, with only the agents of a suspicious foreign power to aid them.
Agents executing their final directive.
Sincere thanks to my first editor, who put many hours into getting the first three chapters of this off the ground. Also sincere thanks to my second editor for continuing to serve as a sanity check!
Or, to put it more precisely, it had ceased to trouble Ponyville Library, beyond the dull light and distant rumbles. The surrounding village seemed content not to respond with sound of its own – its residents were safely sheltered in their homes. The fresh smell of grass and other plants prevailed on the cool air, helped in no small part by lack of competition.
But despite the stillness, nopony could have mistaken Ponyville for a ghost town. Each home’s internal lighting was stark against the dull backdrop of the cloud-muted evening. The library was no exception, although had there been a pony outside to see it, and had that pony been in possession of an eagle eye of which any gryphon would have been proud, they may well have noticed the occasional hint of an entirely different light emanating from the rain-streaked windows of the ground floor.
“Stand back, Spike – I’m trying again!”
The small dragon retreated behind a small fort comprising several haphazardly-stacked books as the room tinted violet once more. A small rag, enveloped in a similarly-coloured glow, floated up into the air and hovered perhaps a metre above the table in the middle of the room.
And stayed there.
Twilight grunted and closed her eyes, her body visibly shaking.
Nothing.
At last, with a gasp from the sweating unicorn, the levitation field failed. The rag catapulted up into the ceiling and dropped down out of sight behind the book wall, terminating its downward journey with a squish.
Twilight made no attempt to speak as she fought to catch her breath, panting down towards the floor. A damp rag emerged from behind the also-somewhat-moist books, supported on a small purple shape.
“‘It’s okay Spike, you just need to stand behind something, you’ll be out of the firing line then...’” the rag said in a high-pitched, muffled voice.
“Oh Spike, I’m sorry...” Twilight breathed, lifting the rag from her companion’s face with a hoof and dropping it into a bowl of water on the table. “I really lost control of it that time.”
“Why,” Spike began in his own voice as he drew an arm across his damp face, “Are you trying to do this again? A rag gets wet, you can just twist it dry, right?”
“Oh, but it’s not just rags, Spike. Or even water. I learn how to do this and I can, in theory, well, assuming the viscous properties of the liquid in question are amenable and the absorbent behaviour of the associated material is not... er... oh. I mean, I might be able to separate the liqu- the wet and solid comp... parts. Of... stuff.”
“Separate wet and solid parts of stuff. Gotcha.” Spike was quiet for a moment. “Why do you wanna do that?”
“Oh! Lots of reasons! It means I could dry things that you can’t wring out, or keep the wet part of something instead of losing it to a drying spell, or I could draw a spillage out of fabric...” Twilight continued, unable to avoid recalling the specific incident responsible for that particular example. Oh, if only she’d been able to perform this little spark of magic at the time. They could have avoided spending an hour convincing the outside portion of Rarity’s bedroom door that spilling a drop of wine onto one’s formal attire at an informal dinner party hardly constituted a banishing offence even if the Princess had been in attendance, never mind something that “shamed her in the eyes of all Ponykind, making her a laughing stock throughout all Canterlot and its environs, to Greater and/or Lesser Equestria and beyond!”... (“No, no, it would most certainly be both! Oh, this is simply intolerable! Somepony come in and suffocate me with a pillow so as not to leave an unspeakable mess when I finally- No! Knock first! What are you, a lady or an oafish lout?!” “That’s it, where’s that darn pillow already?” “Rainbow! Yer not helpin’ none-!”)
Twilight frowned and shook her head, dragging her train of thought back onto the rails. “...I could draw a spillage out of almost anything, really. So, the next time you drip ice-cream onto the rug...”
Spike clamped a claw to his mouth. “Urgh. Don’t say the ‘i’ word. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling sick.”
“Fine,” Twilight responded with a small smirk. “The point is, it would be useful, Spike. And even if it weren’t, that’s no reason not to study something! Learning is its own reward! Now...”
She turned to the bowl once more and brought the dripping rag up to eye level with a nonchalant tingle of magic.
“Over-saturation is self-correcting,” Twilight began as she watched the diminishing flow of water cascade back down into the bowl. “But it’s far more problematic to drain the fluid from a medium whose properties dispose it towards retention.”
“Uh...huh,” Spike said. “Looks more to me like it’s hard to make this spell work on water that doesn’t fall off anyway.”
“Yes, that’s what I said, isn’t it?” Twilight replied, looking at the young dragon with a bemused expression on her face. “I... don’t know if I can do this without something to help force it out. Maybe by combining another spell...?” She cantered over to one of her myriad bookshelves, leafing through Volume II of Aqueous Agitation – Impure water manipulation for everyday situations!
“Hmm... these are really designed for reasonable volumes, not damp rags... still...”
She turned back to said rag, still levitating obediently above the bowl full of water. She cocked her head slightly-
And the liquid inside the bowl geysered upwards with sudden, spectacular eruptive force, drenching mare and dragon alike.
Twilight blinked in silence, as water ran down the mane now plastered to her neck.
Hey Twilight – what’s soaking wet and clueless?
“Ooookay...” Twilight levitated a towel across the room and began to dry herself off. “Maybe I should stick to practising Plan A.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Spike said as he rubbed his face with his tail. He then squeezed the appendage out, adding to the pool that had gathered on the library’s wooden floor. “Heeey,” he said, looking out of the window. “Storm’s stopped. And there’ll be loadsa mixed-up dirt-water and mud outside for you to practice on! I can hold the fort here, don’t you worry. From my bed. My nice, warm, cosy... bed...” He sighed with longing. “But mostly dry,” he said, giving Twilight a pointed look.
She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go outside and study in the dark so you can sleep?”
“It’s a dragon thing. Too much water. We’re fire-breathers. Could be fatal,” he said, tipping his head back and placing a theatrical claw on his forehead. “Must hurry. Getting dark... sleep... comfy bed... only cure...”
Twilight just rolled her eyes. Did he really think that if he did that enough, she would acquiesce?
* * *
As Twilight trotted away from the library, the more traditional clip-clop sounds gave way to their wet-weather counterparts, the muted near-splashes of waterlogged grass. Her intention was not to pace particularly far from her home before finding somewhere to stop and practice – mud was in no short supply, and sufficient distance to avoid any impromptu external redecoration of Spike’s personal sleep haven was all that was required.
Speaking of, she still wasn’t quite sure how Spike had pulled that off. One of Celestia’s own chosen students, the bearer of the Element of Magic, outwitted by her own assistant, a small purple lizard still reeling from a severe ice-cream overdose. Still, she mused to herself, most likely excellent training for eventual parenthood. A constant battle of wills between parent and foal, one that... she seemed to lose a lot?
Well then. Maybe next time.
She glanced down at a water puddle by her hooves, and her reflection frowned back at her. With a quick magical impulse, she lifted the liquid into the air and let it drop again with a splash. Trivial. Easy. The same went for a sample of some nearby mud. But even that was stubbornly resistant to her attempts at liquid separation. She strained again, trying to gain that abstract purchase on the water within the mud... all to no avail. She huffed in frustration, dropping the brown bolus with a splat, and glared down at the taunting puddle once more. Her reflection betrayed signs of deepening irritation as she stood framed against the stars above, the tops of nearby trees, a few puffs of cloud, the skeletal zombie pony-
Her shriek was loud in the stillness of the chill evening, easily outstripping the muted sound of her body impacting the damp grass as she slipped and fell backwards. She jerked her head around to look up in terror at the reflection’s owner – a hunched, tangle-maned individual, leering at her with missing teeth and a sticky dark shadow covering the upper portion of its face and forehead, a shadow that looked horribly like partially-dried blood.
As Twilight gaped, wide-eyed, at the monster, its leer diminished. It dragged a tongue of leather through its lips, but they only peeled apart reluctantly as the owner forced them open and wheezed.
“Muh... Must look... as bad as it feels.”
The creature slumped forward, landing heavily despite the softness of the ground. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Twilight hadn’t moved, and her leg muscles were striking. Her stare lingered on the withered pony across from her, lying prostrate on the grass, its breaths coming in quiet rasps. As her heart gradually diminished in its efforts to bash its way through her chest, she began to process the sight in front of her.
The pony looked old. Withered. But there could be no doubt there was more to its condition than the mere passage of time. Its body was a weirdly-gnarled and twisted parody of an earth pony. Its fur seemed prematurely muted, grey in colour, disposition scrambled as though moulded by rough passage through a hedge. Lending credence to such a theory were the leaves dotted here and there across its body, trapped in the chaotic tangle.
“I thought... just a second... might not find you,” it breathed, ending on a cross between a light chuckle and a hacking cough.
Twilight found her voice at last. “Are... you okay?” Revise that to ‘found her voice, then immediately felt stupid for using it’.
Another quiet snort combined with the ghost of a smile. “Doesn’t matter, Twilight.”
She had to stare at that. It – he? – knew of her. Saw fit to address her by first name. “I am... Ms Sparkle, yes,” she responded, a slight edge to her voice as she got back to her hooves. This wasn’t getting any less strange.
Like everything else, however, that served only to amuse him. “Of course you are. I... have something for you.”
“I don’t-” Twilight cut off abruptly as the pony screamed, losing her balance and crashing back down into the sticky mud once more.
“What?! What’s-” she stopped again as she realised the pony’s head was now resting on the ground, eyes closed. Her heart crashed like a brick to the bottom of her stomach.
He’s dead.
Dead!
Oh Celestia, there’s no spell for this! There wasn’t anything I could have done, I swear...
Her eyes widened.
Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. He’s dead and nopony will believe me when I say he just screamed and died. Who even does that! ‘Argh splat’. Nopony, that’s who. He died and I’m the only pony who could have killed him! Twilight the Murderer! Might as well start packing my bags right now ’cuz I’ll be banished for sure and nopony will speak to me again and I’ll probably run into some horrible monster and get eaten and I’ll never complete my studies and-
She blinked out of her hysterical mental diatribe as her ears perked, realising that the quiet sound invading her consciousness was a low whisper, barely audible even in the near-silence of the darkness surrounding her. Her apparently-not-dead (-oh-thank-Celestia-oh-thank-you-thank-you-thank-you) companion was still caught in the grip of unconsciousness, but she could see his lips were moving even as a tiny trail of drool escaped from the corner of his parched mouth.
“...sn’t trying to upset her... being stupid... no more... had to be...”
Twilight was frozen, unsure of what to do. Should she try to rouse him? Judging by his physical state, that might just finish him off.
A small moan demonstrated that would not be necessary as the pony blinked open its eyelids, eyelids apparently now forged from lead. His eyes were bloodshot and wet.
Twilight rose to her hooves once more. “Can you hear me?” She tried. “What happened?”
“N...nothing,” he choked. “J-Just being s-stupid... h-here.”
He dragged his left foreleg up from the ground, and fumbled with the catch on the saddlebag he was, Twilight now realised, wearing. She could have been forgiven for her oversight – the bag was scarcely in a better state than its owner. Tattered, and drained of colour.
“Y-You’ll need it...” he rattled, putting his hoof inside the bag. “When the t-time comes... you’ll know.”
He presented a shaking hoof to Twilight, upon which rested a small metal... trinket. She looked at it in confusion for a few seconds, before capturing it inside a levitation field – if only to spare the leg muscles of her rasping companion, for whom even this gesture was proving extremely difficult. No sooner had she released him from its burden than his foreleg collapsed to the ground, remaining motionless on the grass.
The unicorn flicked her eyes over her new acquisition, and to her credit, made an earnest effort to establish what the hay she was even looking at. It was a metal symbol of some kind, resembling a... well, maybe an exploding star? That or Equestria’s most prickly leaf. She lowered her eyes to the fallen stallion once more.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
A moment passed as Twilight stood in silence. She looked from the pony to the trinket floating ahead of her face and back again, trying to decide which of the two merited her attention more.
“I’m sorry, you’re being very cryptic. Please can you tell me what’s going on?”
The pony swallowed, grimacing as he did so.
“I’m dying, Ms Sparkle.”
The words chilled Twilight. Of course, she only had to look at him to see that. A part of her had known it from the moment she cast eyes upon him. But to hear the sentiment delivered with such monotone dullness, such... morbid certainty... it was something that deep down she found herself refusing to accept.
“Don’t... don’t say that! There’s a hospital right on the outskirts of Ponyville, I can get help! Just, just tell me what happened to you...”
The pony closed his eyes, and his head twitched. It took Twilight a second to realise he was trying to shake his head.
“M..M..Much...too...l-late f-for...” his breath caught in this throat, and he coughed repeatedly. Pathetic, rattling wheezes.
“Just, just hold on!” Twilight began as panic started to take hold of her, “I’m going to teleport, and I’ll bring back someponies who’ll-”
“No! Please... don’t let me... not alone...”
Twilight froze, and in that moment, she knew his time was measured in seconds, not minutes.
Much too late, indeed.
He let out a faltering breath through the grass that could have been a whimper. “Th-th-this isn’t... I w-was supposed to g-get that to you, and th-that would be the end. L-Let me go...”
Twilight looked down at the shivering pony in front of her, a tightness in her gut. She had no words to do it justice. How awful must it be, to fade in pain, far from anypony you had ever known? What could be so important, so evil, that it demanded such a forlorn spectacle as its sacrifice?
She made up her mind. Raising a foreleg, she took a step towards him. And another. As she drew up alongside him, she hesitated, her eyes once again running down his crooked spine, every twist a well of torment. Finally, she lifted a hoof and placed it with tender care on his shoulder. There was nothing more she could say, and she knew it. But she could provide some token comfort. To this fading, suffering pony, she also knew that could mean all the difference in the world.
He relaxed, and his breaths grew almost inaudible. His expression softened, and he opened his eyes for the last time.
“I...I-I’ll t-tell them... I’m s-s-sorry...”
He looked at her, nodding his head. Neck stiff like steel, a ghost of a nod, barely even a movement.
And then it was as though he was drained of all energy, and all will. He let out a final, sighing breath, and bowed his head to the sweet grass.
Embracing that most deep of sleeps.
* * *
The night was well under-way now, yet activity in Ponyville had, if anything, increased. It had not taken long for rumours of a death on the streets of town to spread, and the dramatic appearance of a number of Royal Guards only served to cement such a conclusion.
Not that Applejack set much store by rumour, mind. Or gossip of any sort. A mare should buck her own apple trees and leave everypony else’s the hay alone, she thought as she trotted along in the mud, her destination visible over the thatched rooftops either side of her.
Naturally, such a prohibition didn’t extend to rumours of a friend in danger. Applejack didn’t know the details, or what she could do to help, but she sure as sugar wasn’t going to sit around on her bucking end doing nothing until she knew for sure that there was nothing she could do.
She also didn’t need to be terribly close to the library to know something was ahoof.
After all, those Royal Guards posted either side of the door were hard to miss.
“Halt.”
Applejack drew up short. Those spears were very sharp, weren’t they?
“Name.”
“A-Applejack, Sir...Sirs,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “Ah’m a friend of Twiligh’s, an’ Ah’ve come t’-”
“Ms Applejack? Oh, praise Celestia. Can you please go in and talk to her?” He nodded at his unicorn companion, who lowered his gleaming spear and refocused his magical energies around the handle of the library’s front door, clicking it open. All military bearing had ceased, and now that he was bathed in light from inside, Applejack could see that the pony that had addressed her was looking decidedly ruffled. Although that might have been the feathers.
“We have been trying to explain to Ms Sparkle that she is not under arrest. She is not going to be banished, executed, given detention, imprisoned, expelled, moved down a grade or otherwise punished, and neither one or other of us will be marking her tests in the foreseeable future,” the pegasus rattled off, a definite thread of exasperation woven into his tone. “Or giving poor character references to the Princess.”
Applejack finished squinting at something only she could see, and looked back at the pegasus guard.
“Then why are y’all here then? Ah’m guessing it ain’t a social call.”
“We have our orders, Ms Applejack. Please, go in. Do you want the bag?”
“The whatnow?”
The pegasus grimaced. “For her to breathe into.”
“Uh... naw, that’s fine. Y’all take care, now...”
The pegasus nodded, and the farm pony stepped on through the wooden doorway into the library, blinking as she adjusted to the light. The door closed behind her.
Pandemonium reigned. An uncountable number of books was scattered all over every visible surface and, inexplicably, a decent-sized puddle of water surrounded the table in the middle. A distinctly-fed-up-looking Spike was sitting on a small column of dusty tomes, and Twilight herself was pacing up and down with jerky, erratic movements, her face obscured by the book floating ahead of her.
“No, no no no, Changeling magic has a different signature, but it would still be there!”
Applejack cleared her throat.
“Ugh!” The book flew unceremoniously aside and crumpled onto the floor, to be replaced in an instant with another. If Twilight had heard anything, she paid it no heed.
“Maybe it manifests only under certain conditions!” The book ahead of her had barely opened before another batted it aside. Pages fanned past, then froze in place, with Twilight herself stiffening the moment she started to read. “Oh nonono, please no... it says here there’s no way of knowing what the conditions are... he didn’t say... WhyDidn’tHeSay?!” The book rocketed up into the air and smacked hard against the ceiling. Spike had already dived from his makeshift chair before the paginated projectile could make the return trip. Twilight was oblivious, staring ahead as several pages wafted down, abject panic on her face. “What if it needed him to be alive?! What if it was really, really important! I’ve doomed us all to-!”
“Howdy, Twiligh’!” Applejack interjected, with not inconsiderable volume.
“Applejack!” The orange pony jumped as Twilight teleported across the short gap separating them, manifesting well inside of the boundaries of even the most generously-relaxed definition of personal space. “So glad you came before it was too late!” She grinned in her friend’s face, far too wide. “The guards are being really nice, letting me stay in the library while they decide my punishment! I hope you won’t all resent them when I’m gone!” She floated over a cup of what Applejack hoped was apple juice, slurped at it noisily, and set it down with a thud. “It’s only a matter of time before I’m banished now!”
“Banished? Twiligh’, what are you talk-”
“Banished! Expelled! Dispossessed! Outplaced!” Twilight accompanied each utterance with an involuntary little hop. “He died, and nopony saw me murder him! But who’s going to believe he came from Celestia-knows-where to give me that,” she tilted her head towards the table, “and then suddenly died! I thought maybe it might have a message, or an implanted spell of some kind, but there’s nothing! Who... who dies to hoof over a worthless trinket? Nopony, Applejack! Nopony’ll believe me! Nopony’s been murdered in Ponyville in living memory and I come along and murder a pony within just a few years! If I’m lucky, they’ll banish me!”
She wavered in place, sucking in breaths of air through her clenched teeth.
“Twiligh’,” Applejack began at last, “Ah really think yer makin’ a mountain out of a moleh-” A momentary look of disgust crossed her face as she cut herself off.
She swallowed, and began again. “Twiligh’... Ah’m sorry yer upset. But y’all don’t need ta worry none. Ah believe ya, and Ah know all yer other friends’d say the exact same thang. Frankly, they c’n banish ya over mah dead body an’ all.”
Twilight continued to take sharp breaths as she looked at Applejack, trembling. Then, she seemed to deflate.
“I... I couldn’t do anything...”
“Ah know,” Applejack replied as she put her foreleg around the droop-eared unicorn. “Ain’t nopony should have ta see what y’all saw t’night. If there’s anythang ya wanna talk about, anythang at all... Ah’m here for ya.”
Twilight relaxed at last and squeezed back, a small but genuine smile now adorning her lips.
“Thanks, Applejack. I... I’m being silly, aren’t I...”
“N...Naw. ’Course not,” said Applejack, the predestined bearer, custodian and master of the Element of Honesty.
“Oh, finally.” The two mares turned their heads in unison to face in the direction of the voice from below. Spike was busy extracting the second piece of cotton from his other ear. “Can I sleep now? Like, without hearing books falling all the time? This dragon really needs his,” he yawned, “schleep.”
“I’m sorry, Spike. You’ve been very patient with me. Of course you can.”
“Alright!” The dragon sped upstairs with a velocity that belied his apparent sleeplessness.
Twilight smiled up after him, before turning towards Applejack once more. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping when there’s a – can you hear that?”
BANG.
In an instant, Twilight was skidding along on her back, a veritable blizzard of pages still choking the air as she came to a halt. She found herself nose-to-nose with a cyan mare.
The sound of galloping hooves and unicorn magic signalled the next interruption, and both Dash and Twilight looked back to see a spear held aloft. Quicker than thought, Dash spun and dropped into a defensive posture, ready to charge if need be...
...and the spear remained in place. Its bearer, the unicorn guard from outside, let out an immense breath of air, his features moving from shock to irritation. His pegasus companion was soon alongside, looking likewise miffed.
“Ms... Dash. Please do not do that again. We have been ordered to use lethal force on anypony acting aggressively towards Ms Sparkle, and flying past her armed guards, literally through the door to her home, is highly... aggressive.”
Rainbow Dash threw her head back, tossing her mane behind. “She’s my pal, I heard there was trouble, and I was darned-well getting to her as fast as I could. End of.”
The pegasus guard looked as though he would have liked to argue further, but instead merely grunted and gestured back towards the doorway to his unicorn companion, who for his part levitated the pieces of the door into place behind them as they left.
“Not all that fast though, were ya Rainbow.”
“I only just heard. I was kinda doing something at the time.”
“Yuh-huh, really. What?”
“Napping. What else?”
There was a spluttering sound.
“Rainbow... could you please... get your tail... ptthhbt... off my face?”
“Huh?” Dash craned her head down between her forelegs, giving her an inverted view across her belly. “Oh. Whoops! Sorry Twi!” She took to the air and hovered. “Glad to see you’re okay, though.”
Twilight felt a definite sense of déjà vu as she rolled over and stood. “Thank you for your concern Rainbow, but I’m alright,” she said, brushing off the pages that had stuck to her. “Whoever that pony was... he didn’t hurt me.”
“Darn right. I’d’ve killed him,” Dash growled. “All I heard was a pony had died, and you were there when it happened. Didn’t know what to think. You don’t know who it was?”
Twilight looked sad, and shook her head. “No. After he... I went to get help, and the ponies from the hospital picked him up. Next thing I knew, a whole bunch of Royal Guards had arrived, and they caught up with me as I was coming back. Said they’d been trying to find me,” she said, biting her lip. “They interviewed me, and I told them everything I knew, which wasn’t much... they didn’t seem interested in, well, arresting me, but a pair of them have been following me around ever since.”
“You’ve got your own Royal Guards now? That’s awesome!” Dash grinned back at the cracked door. “Need to teach ’em who your friends are, though. S’what I’d do.” She nodded agreement at herself, and then stopped. “If I needed guards, that is. Which I totally don’t.”
There were voices outside the door, albeit too muffled to hear.
Applejack cast an uneasy eye in the direction of the muted conversation. “Ah don’t much like it. Somepony’s gonna get herself hurt with them there twitchy spear ponies standin’ around outside all day.”
“She WHAT?!”
The three ponies barely had time to register the high-pitched exclamation from outside before they were blasted by the shockwave of an extremely familiar BANG, and for the fourth time that evening, Twilight found herself on the floor.
“Twilight!” The pink pony had the unicorn pinned down, and her eyes were bulging maniacally. “They said a pony had died and you were nearby when it happened and I thought maybe you’d been hurt too which is silly because I knew you weren’t hurt and you don’t look hurt and, oh, I am sooo glad you’re not hurt!” She proceeded to plant kisses all over her supine companion’s face, in much the same manner a woodpecker might attack a fence post.
“P-Pinkie!” Twilight spluttered and flailed her hooves to no avail. “Pinkie, I’m f-fine! Really!”
“No you’re not. You’re Twilight!” Pinkie giggled and stood back. Twilight caught her breath and once again clambered to her hooves, wondering if she oughtn’t consider investing in some sort of protective barding. Applejack and Rainbow Dash had almost succeeded in censoring their grins, too.
“Just... just go in, curse you.” The pegasus guard’s voice carried freely through the once-again-doorless library entrance. His eye was swivelled back, fixing Pinkie with a glower through the doorway, but his head was facing something out of sight.
“Thank you, most kind of you!”
“Um, sorry... I’ll just... go in, then...”
Rarity trotted through into the library with characteristic grace, followed in short order by Fluttershy, who was reversing into the room at a far more mundane pace, her body stretched low as she crept along, never breaking eye contact with the pegasus guard.
“Twilight, darling, we all heard the news-”
“-that I might be hurt? Thank you all so much for coming, but nothing bad happened.” Twilight’s head drooped. “To me, anyway.”
“Oh, but it must have been so awful,” Fluttershy whispered. “That poor, poor pony...”
“I know,” Twilight sighed. “I’ve been trying to find out what was so important about his... delivery. He knew who I was. There must be something I’m supposed to do.” Her horn ignited, and she levitated the trinket from the table in the middle of the room, hovering it in front of her five friends. “I can’t find any infused magic. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to be.”
“Not a fashion accessory, I can assure you. How tawdry.”
“If that’s a spur, Ah ain’t never seen a spur that big.”
“He came all the way over and died to give you that? That’s... seriously lame!”
“Oooh, it’s not chocolate, is it? Check it! Checkit-checkit!”
“Um, I don’t... I’m sorry, I don’t know what it is. It’s... nice?”
Twilight floated the object back towards her, frowning at it yet again. “I didn’t think it would mean anything to any of you. It’s just...” She sighed again. “I feel like this is a test I’m failing. That pony was counting on me. He was,” she shivered, “badly hurt, but he made the journey in that condition. He wanted to make sure I received this. What if-” Twilight blinked back tears. “What if I don’t solve it? What if he died for nothing?”
“Goodness, Twilight,” Rarity said, suddenly alarmed. “You don’t think he was injured by other ponies? Other ponies trying to stop him?”
“That’d explain them there Royal Guards,” Applejack said. “They really are guardin’ you an’ that...spur an’ all, Twiligh’.”
“Uh. Duh? If that’s the case, why didn’t they take the stupid thing someplace else?” Rainbow Dash countered. “Somepony wants it so bad, how about they fight the guards of Canterlot Castle for it?”
“If’n the Royal Guards are here, that means Princess Celestia knows about what happened,” Applejack replied. “Ah think we c’n trust her ta do the safest thing fer us all.”
“You can ask her yourself.”
Spike was wheezing from the top of the staircase, a letter held aloft.
“A letter this late?” Twilight dropped the trinket back onto the table, then illuminated the unfurled scroll within a field of magic and floated it down towards her. “Thank you Spike. Oh, but that can’t be good news...”
“You’re telling me,” Spike moaned. “I was just drifting off, too...” He turned and disappeared out of sight, his muttering lingering a while longer.
Twilight’s friends stood in anxious anticipation as she scanned the letter.
“It’s from the Princess, alright. It says... she needs to see us. All of us. Now. And...” She swallowed. “I’m to stay with the guards or you ponies at all times.”
“That does it!” Rainbow Dash back-flipped from mid-air into a standing position and made for the doorway. “I wanna know what’s going on, now.”
The pegasus standing guard at the entrance was deep in conversation with his unicorn companion. He broke off when he noticed Dash approaching.
“Can I help you, Ms Dash?”
“We’re going Canterlot Castle. All of us.”
The guard nodded to the spear-toting pony next to him. “Then we shall escort you.”
“Yeah... you gonna tell us what’s going on, or what?”
“Ms Dash?”
The rainbow-maned pegasus rose on her wings, bringing herself face-to-face with the armoured guard.
“You’ve been standing around Twilight all night long, she tells me! And now the Princess herself is telling her not to leave your sight. If she’s in danger, I gotta know!”
“Ms... Dash, I’m sure the Princess will explain it all in due cour-”
“Then there’s no problem telling me now, is there?” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “Unless you think I want to hurt her. Me, the Element of Loyalty...”
“It’s... it’s not that, Ms Dash,” the pony said, looking more uncomfortable by the second. “I do not have all of the information, and felt it would be better for Ms Sparkle to get the full story from-”
“So tell me what you do know for Celestia’s sake,” Dash implored. “If there’s trouble on the way, I wanna help!”
The pegasus guard sighed, and shared a look with his fellow guard, who shrugged.
“Very well, since you really want to know. We are guarding Ms Sparkle, yes.”
Rainbow Dash nodded. “What from?”
The guard pawed at the ground a little. “Further attacks.”
That made Dash squint. “Huh? She wasn’t attacked...”
The guard drew himself up. “No, it appears not. I told you: I do not have all the information. But...”
He swallowed.
“I have been told that the pony Ms Sparkle encountered was not the first of its kind, and that... and that Ms Sparkle...”
“What?” Dash was only more earnest in her confusion. “‘Ms Sparkle’ what?”
The Royal Guard glanced downwards, and then looked past Dash, into the library, directly at Twilight.
“Ms Sparkle... as far as we know... is the only pony ever to have survived such an encounter.”
In the stunned silence that followed, Twilight’s five friends looked at each other, and then shifted focus to Twilight herself.
She was standing, jaw agape. Gazing not at her friends, no – she had eyes only for the sharp metal trinket, the enigmatic last ‘gift’ of that now-deceased pony, which continued to rest, indifferent and motionless, on the wooden table in the centre of her very home.
* * *
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
Five of the six ponies sat outside the throne room. The heavy wooden doors were sealed shut and flanked by a pair of Royal Guards, different from those that had escorted Twilight and her friends through the castle to this, the heart of the Equestrian Government. Their Royal protectors had been relieved by a new shift as soon as the train bearing them to Canterlot had pulled into the station. The six ponies had been taken to this waiting area, and told to, well, wait. Wait for the Princess. Nopony complained. In fact, nopony had said anything much at all during the journey from Ponyville, and that verbal desert had yet to moisten even now, as they sat together with little else to distract them.
Only Rainbow Dash was on her hooves, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. Electing not to travel on the train with the rest of the group, she had instead taken position on the air currents above, determined that no pony should be able to approach without being sighted well in advance. Now, she paced in silence, burning nervous energy, but she was not alone in contributing to the lack of conversation. A dour mood had taken hold of the ponies, as if grieving for the loss of their friend – their friend, who, as far as she was concerned, was most definitely still alive.
“It really doesn’t make any sense,” Twilight muttered.
“Y’all gonna have to narrow it down, sugarcube,” Applejack responded at last. “Mah head’s spinnin’ like a lasso.”
“He didn’t try to kill me.” Twilight’s tone was neutral, matter-of-fact. “Or even hurt me. Oh he scared me half to death, yes, but he saw me long before I saw him. If he’d wanted to... to... he could have done that without giving me a chance to realise he was even there.”
“Maybe he was trying to get close?” Dash offered, pausing mid-stride. “But he didn’t get the chance for that.”
“But that’s just it,” Twilight said. “He did get close. Well, I got close. Close enough to put a hoof on him. He didn’t try anything, not even then. And not only that...” Twilight looked off to the side, images swimming in front of her. The bloody face, the heaving of his body as he coughed...
“He was in no condition. He could barely stand.” She huffed. “It really, really doesn’t make sense.”
“And you don’t think... that ugly little spur knickknack... was intended for some nefarious purpose against you?” It had not taken long for Applejack’s nomenclature to creep into Rarity’s speech; she seemed only too happy to use it to refer to the metal trinket whose physical appearance she so despised. In fairness to her, no better name had yet to be ascribed to the mysterious object.
“Not unless he was trying to kill me through frustration,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. She no longer had the item with her. Rainbow Dash had insisted it be delivered with a separate detachment of Royal Guards, and Twilight found herself reluctantly agreeing. The courier pony may have died to bring it to her, but in spite of her verbal protestations she was unable to let go of the unease she’d felt ever since the pegasus guard’s revelation.
She was aware that a silence had fallen, and she glanced up to see Rarity looking rather taken aback.
“Oh...” She closed her eyes, tears of guilt threatening to flow. “I’m sorry, Rarity. I’m... I’m frightened,” she almost whimpered. “I don’t know what to think any more. I thought I was supposed to be helping this pony and I, maybe I was, but that doesn’t mean I was helping him to do something good... I feel... really stupid. I shouldn’t have touched the stupid thing.”
“Twilight, dear...” Rarity rose to her hooves, and hugged her lavender companion. “You have nothing to apologise for.” In front of them, four ponies nodded. “I can’t even begin to imagine how ghastly these last few hours have been for you. You’re safe here. And together, we’re going to find out what this fuss is all about, you’ll see.”
Twilight sniffed and nodded, and her other friends took turns embracing her.
“Come oooonn...” Pinkie said as her turn came at last. “Lessee a smiiile... I’m not letting go ’til I see a smiiiiile...” She rocked, to-and-fro, and Twilight was helpless as she tilted in back and forth in sync.
She made her best effort, but resistance was futile.
“Okay, okay!” Twilight uttered as the traitorous corners of her mouth curled upwards. “You win. Again.”
The six friends all chuckled as the tension finally broke, much to everypony’s relief.
There was a heavy rattling on the other side of the door, as thick chains were removed, and bolts drew back.
Most of the smiles faded, none more so than Twilight’s – at least, until Pinkie gave her a playful bop on the nose and stood back, offering her unicorn friend her best reassuring grin as she proffered a hoof.
A warmth spread through Twilight, fortifying her as the doors creaked open. With friends like these... she knew she could face anything. The light from the throne room reflected off her tears. She wiped them with a few quick rubs of a foreleg, and then took Pinkie’s hoof, riding her friend’s assistance to a standing position.
Two more pegasus guards stood in the doorway.
“The Princess will see you now.”
A deep breath, and Twilight was ready.
The ponies – the friends – moved as one, as the guards stood aside and took up flanking positions. Silence had once more taken root, but now it was deference, rather than unease, upon which it was founded.
The door closed behind them as they walked. The plush red carpet made its own contribution to the reverent silence, muffling hoofsteps into soft, delicate sounds.
Princess Celestia, Twilight’s mentor, her Princess, her... friend, stood across the room from them. Her disposition as regal as ever, but her expression – unfathomable. Twilight averted her eyes, anything to avoid attempting to divine meaning from the lack of warmth, the absence of that fond smile. She gazed at the stained glass murals studded into the walls, tributes to her and her friends, their past triumphs together. The dead of night had denied them the beams of light that could glisten them to their spectacular best, but the coloured panes retained a muted dignity all the same. Was another soon to join them? Or – and now she was trying to silence the voice that prodded her, teased her – the voice that reminded her that tonight, the most recent addition to this kaleidoscopic history could have been her last.
“My little ponies. Thank you for coming.”
The six ponies halted before their Sovereign, and each bowed low. Celestia lifted a hoof to implore them to rise once more – was there the faintest air of impatience, a desire for expediency?
“Please forgive me for keeping you. Diamond Sift is nothing if not meticulous in reporting the full history of his investigations. Even,” she sighed, “even the most fruitless of investigations. I could at least take solace in your safety here, Twilight.”
Twilight had to moisten the inside of her mouth before speaking. “You... wanted to see me, Your Highness?”
The alicorn princess nodded. “I think it best if I begin with the event that started this all. Namely...”
“Th-the dead pony?”
Celestia nodded again. “A single deceased pony is a tragedy for all concerned. A pony losing his life through injury in Ponyville is all but unheard of. But this particular example is rarer still. And that much more tragic for it.” She blinked, and it was much in evidence that she was not merely paying lip-service to the sadness of the occasion.
“No ponies had been reported missing – neither in Ponyville, nor the surrounding towns. Nopony arrived to identify him. Assuming that possibility even exists now.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. The ponies standing opposite had no need to ask the reason for her pause.
“In such circumstances, the Royal Coroner casts as wide a net as she can. She contacts all neighbouring territories, all embassies we maintain, to enquire on the subject of missing ponies. All unsolved cases.”
Princess Celestia looked down at the group of friends, who stood in dead silence, hanging on her every word.
“They all responded in the negative. All save one.”
“You... you found out who it was?” Twilight felt a surge of hope. Maybe they could get to the bottom of this after all! But the surge died almost as soon as it had begun, for the Princess was shaking her head, looking more morose than ever.
“No. They could not tell us who it was. However...”
She looked at Twilight.
“What do you know of the Outlands?”
Twilight racked her brains. “I... across the sea, to the east? I didn’t think there was anything in the way of civilisation there.”
“That’s because there is none. At least, not that we would consider such. The Outlands are a place of anarchy. Of,” she couldn’t meet Twilight’s gaze, “banishment. Exile.”
It took a few short seconds for Twilight to join the dots. Once she did, her eyes were wide. “Are.. are you saying... that all of the ponies that have been... b-banished... end up there?”
“Not all of them. Only the most severe cases.” The Princess drew herself up. “Every pony has a right to choose their own destiny. Some choose a life of uncertainty and misdemeanour. They refuse rehabilitation. My subjects deserve protection from them.” She looked almost pleading, willing Twilight to understand. “It is a terrible thing to take a life. The single option is to ensure that they are unable to bestow harm upon innocent ponies.”
“So you... exile them across the sea,” Twilight frowned. She was torn. Was the Princess not right? Was banishment not preferable to execution, to years of fruitless incarceration? If a pony was not suited to life in civilisation, was it not better to permit them to live the life they chose instead? Is an objective answer to such a question even possible?
“But what... what does this have to do with the courier?”
“The what?”
“Oh... it’s...” Twilight tried to find a form of words that stepped around the issue of her foolishness. “The pony who died... wanted to deliver something. So I, sort of...” She mumbled.
“I see. I will discuss Diamond’s findings on that matter in due course,” Celestia replied, her face inscrutable again, and infuriating for it. “But for the time being – you wanted to know the relevance of our current discussion.”
Her horn glowed, and blue light flickered across all of the ponies present as the image of a city appeared before them, of gleaming white spires in the centre surrounded by green parks and more stunted, blocky buildings on the periphery. A thick wall encircled it in its entirety, tall as a cottage and easily wide enough to permit wagon traffic.
A small chorus of “Oooh”s rang out from Twilight and her friends. If this shining city was located somewhere in the Outlands, she thought, then the ponies living there surely couldn’t be all that bad?
“This is the Lodestar Republic. A city-state. It is the one bastion of civilisation in the entire Outlands.”
“And... they were the ones who responded? They’re friends of ours?”
Celestia seemed to take her time formulating an answer to that one.
“It is true to say that we are on reasonably good terms,” she said at last. “In practice, the Equestrian Government has very little to do with them. Relations are cordial, however, they have difficulty with alicorn royalty. They do not recognise the authority of the Equestrian Crown.”
The friends looked at each other; a full house of narrowed eyes and puzzled expressions. The Zebra and Gryphons of course had their own means of governance, but for a nation of ponies to refuse to accede to the Crown had the air of insult to it. Princess Celestia raised the sun every day, surely to these ponies’ great benefit – as with all Equestria. What ponies would be so arrogant as to refuse even to acknowledge her authority as the Bringer of Light to everypony? Rainbow Dash in particular appeared to be undergoing some manner of internal struggle, opening her mouth with an indignant expression, closing it with the hesitation of a pony unsure of exactly what she could get away with saying in the presence of royalty.
“But... why in Equestria not?” Leave it to Rarity to respond in the most couched, diplomatic manner possible.
“It is more common than you might think,” Celestia said. “I am blessed that the ponies who live in close proximity to the throne are so much in favour of my rule. Prejudice of this sort has often taken hold in more remote territories.”
Rarity said nothing. Nor did anypony else. The Princess sensed the undercurrent of affront.
“Perhaps I should clarify – the attitude is not one of hostility – not from the ponies of Lodestar, at least. It is more a deep-seated tradition, and a source of pride that they are independent, self-sufficient, and have no need of royal protection. Relations are, as I say, cordial, and we exchange diplomatic communiqués on an occasional basis.”
“And tonight, you’ve exchanged some.”
“Yes, Twilight.” The alicorn’s horn blinked out, and the projected city vanished, leaving the throne room feeling darker than ever.
“Their initial response came far more quickly than is usually the case, and was not anything we anticipated. They sent their condolences, and requested, with the greatest respect, that we supply them with information pertaining to the pony that had been murdered.” She furrowed her brow, and Twilight surmised she was re-living her original reaction. “We replied to clarify that the circumstances of the pony’s death, whilst highly unusual, are still the subject of an on-going investigation, and no conclusion of premeditated murder has yet been drawn.”
She looked from one pony to the next, lingering on Twilight for only a fraction of the time.
“It was then that we received the full story. For a number of weeks now, the Government of the Lodestar Republic has been under attack. A number of high-profile officials and researchers have been ‘assassinated’.” She looked at the floor. “It happened the same way every time. They would find the body of an unidentifiable, badly-injured earth pony, so withered and damaged that even its cutie mark could not be determined...”
Twilight realised she had not noticed a cutie mark on the courier pony.
“...and the assassination victim themselves. Lying amongst the upheaval of a violent struggle.” She flicked her eyes up at Twilight. ”Torn and broken.”
Rarity placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. The others looked upon her in with combined fear and concern, and Pinkie began edging in her direction in a manner she presumably considered subtle.
“It seems clear that these assassin ponies are somehow brought to a target, and then released in a storm of uncontrolled violence that lasts until both ponies have expired.”
The Princess drew on a reserve of strength, and stood tall to address Twilight once more. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Twilight – I would not burden you with this information if I felt it unnecessary to do so. I believe you when you say the pony you encountered did not seem to be hostile towards you. But it is the one example that fails to fit the pattern. You are unique in this regard. If somepony wanted you out of the way, then something prevented it in your case. The Council of Lodestar is extremely interested to know what.”
Twilight opened her mouth, keen to discuss the trinket, surely the key to all of this, but Rainbow Dash got there first.
“And who’d want Twilight dead, huh? We need to take ’em down!” She stopped for a beat, aware she’d taken an angry step towards the Princess. She cleared her throat. “Your... Highness.”
“The ponies of Lodestar claim these ‘assassinations’ as the responsibility of a faction that has taken root in the Outlands,” Princess Celestia replied, unfazed. “I believe they currently have one of their top teams gathering intelligence on the main hub of operation.”
Pinkie had reached Twilight at last, and abandoned all pretence at subtlety as she grabbed Twilight into another hug, leaving the unicorn teetering in awkward imbalance courtesy of her involuntary new position. “But, but, but... whhyy?” Pinkie wailed. “Why’d they wanna hurt Twilight?” She pouted.
“The victims until now have all been magical researchers, or officials presiding over magical research,” the Princess replied. “They refused to give me details. I had intended to ask you what you had been studying prior to this event, Twilight...”
“Before I spent this evening experimenting on that pony’s delivery, you mean?” Twilight’s eyes went wide. Moving on. “I-uh, I was trying to work out how to dry things, you know, without a drying spell!” She blurted, a wide grin on her face.
There was a long silence, and yet, it was almost possible to hear the crickets.
“I see.” Princess Celestia turned, and took a few steps back.
“The delivery you mentioned has been investigated further by Diamond Sift, a forensic investigator from the Canterlot Spellweavers. The magical contingent of the Royal Research Division here in Canterlot.” She turned around. “He has been unable to divine any presence of an implanted spell. The only thing he could determine was the presence of a faint trace of magic, far too weak to be such a spell. He believes it to be the residue from one.” Her expression quivered. “The same residue was detected on the body of the unknown pony himself. It is not unique to the object he delivered. As far as we can determine, there is nothing special about it, apart from a robust construction.”
Twilight took some time to digest this new information. She was ashamed of the part of her that felt somewhat elated – she hadn’t failed! Not even a top researcher in Canterlot could find an embedded spell! The elation soon passed, however, and her unease flowed back in with galling impunity.
“So where does that leave us?”
“It brings me to why you are here.” Celestia’s horn ignited again – a letter floated from a small table beside her throne and stopped within reading distance ahead of her. She began to read out loud:
“...this latest development has made it abundantly clear that these repugnant assaults on our way of life are no longer merely our concern.
As part of our investigation into the cause of these attacks, we request that we be granted the opportunity to interview the survivor, and examine the item delivered unto her. Rest assured that Ms Sparkle will be in safe hooves, and that our Special Operations ponies will be brief and to the point. We do ask, however, in the interest of minimising unrest in the Outlands, that Ms Sparkle cross the border into our territory alone-”
“What?! No way. No darn way in Tartarus!” Rainbow Dash had taken to the air in her indignation, her forelegs folded. “Someponies have got it in for Twi and we’re expected to let her trot into a land of jerkface criminals all by herself? Why don’t they take their ‘request’ and shove it up their-”
“Daaash...” Twilight said from the corner of her mouth, her eyes bulging.
“What?” She looked around, seeing her other four companions looking similarly terrified, one eye on her, the other on the Princess she’d just interrupted. The Royal Guards were looking less than impressed.
Princess Celestia herself was staring at Rainbow Dash, and the moment stretched as even Dash herself started to have second thoughts; her wing-flapping slowing to an insufficient rate to prevent her from sinking down towards the immaculate carpet once more.
Then, the Princess’ mouth curled into what was unmistakably a wry smile.
“Not quite the words I would have used, Rainbow Dash, but I concur with the sentiment. Such a request is unacceptable.”
Almost everypony in the room seemed to let out their breath in unison.
“The intent is clear, of course. They have no desire for either Royalty or Royal Guards to enter their realm.” Quiet muttering in response. “And not without reason – the exiled criminals of the Outlands would enjoy nothing more than an opportunity to attack the ponies they believe to be responsible for their current situation.” She sighed. “Even if the fault is ultimately their own.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, realisation setting in. “That’s why you asked everypony to come here, not just me.”
“Correct, Twilight. The ponies of Lodestar are willing to accept a compromise whereby nopony of direct royal connection may enter the territory, but you and your friends may. It is why I have delayed the-” Celestia broke off suddenly, before resuming. “I cannot in good conscience order any one of you into the Outlands. Do not be under any misapprehensions – it is a very dangerous place to set hoof.”
There was a squeak.
“But I have been assured that the ponies you will be meeting are trained professionals, and that they will keep you safe during your meeting, which will take place just inside the border at an abandoned train station. The leader’s name is, is...” Celestia squinted, her mouth twisting as she fought to recall.
“Midnight Phase, Your Highness,” offered one of the guard ponies.
“Thank you,” Celestia responded. She allowed that to sink in.
“I cannot order, no. All I can do is request. Request that, for the sake of ponies like Twilight, you help the ponies of the Lodestar Republic deal with this threat.”
The friends looked at each other, at Twilight. There was barely any hesitation before they nodded – Dash with the vigorous enthusiasm of a pony that had long ago made up her mind, Fluttershy with the closed eyes and grim determination of the one for whom friendship overrode fear.
Celestia smiled.
“I will provide you with details of your journey in due course. Until then, pack for a few days away from home. Please stay safe, my little ponies. And – Rainbow Dash?”
The pegasus mare froze upon being addressed directly. “Y-Yeah?”
“Your protective instincts will be indispensable once you are outside of Equestrian jurisdiction. I grant you the responsibility for the safety of everypony. I know you will do your utmost.”
Rainbow Dash grinned and took to the air, saluting her Princess with gusto. “You can count on me!”
Celestia nodded. “In that case, you-”
“Sister, what is this?”
Princess Luna, alicorn custodian of the night, had announced her arrival in the throne room, her ethereal mane flowing behind her as she moved with effortless grace towards Celestia and the others. “The appointed time for our cycle of duty draweth near. Am I to slumber yet more?”
“No, my sister,” Celestia responded, her eyes fixed on a point just above the ponies’ heads. “I am just sending Twilight and her friends on their way, and will retire momentarily.”
“A meeting at so tardy an hour? Sister, I do not comprehend.”
“It was necessary, dear Luna,” Celestia responded as a wing twitched. “Twilight and her friends have a journey ahead of them, and are soon to leave-”
“An excursion? Wherever to?”
Celestia sighed in defeat. “The Outlands.”
Luna fell deathly silent. Twilight could have sworn her face drained of some of its deep colouration.
“The Outlands,” she repeated, her voice flat.
Twilight looked from Celestia to Luna in confusion, struggling to understand the significance of the exchange – before it suddenly dawned on her. This was the land to which ordinary ponies were banished. Who could understand their plight more than the pony who had been banished for an entire millennium? Who would feel their pain the most?
Luna shared a look with Celestia, and then turned to the six friends.
“I trust that my sister hath enlightened you as to the nature of the ponies you faceth in that place.”
The friends barely nodded – the Princess’ sombre tone was infectious.
“Then I ask one thing of you. Remember. Remember, all of you, the lessons taught during all of your trials and tribulations. Remember that the ponies you faceth, no matter how vile some may seem, are still ponies. And nopony is beyond redemption. Remember Discord, the Element of Disharmony himself, reformed. Remember...”
She bowed her head, and then ploughed onwards with renewed determination.
“Remember me. One thousand years of bitterness, of loathing, of wishing for nothing more than eternal night, and the end of Equestria as a place of happiness and friendship. If I can be redeemed from such a void of evil, what pony cannot?”
She looked at every pony present, begging, imploring, as Celestia stood there with glistening eyes.
“Please. Remember.”
Twilight nodded, and rubbed an eye. “We promise.”
“Then, it is time for you to leave, my little ponies,” Celestia said at last, drying her own face. “Farewell, and please return to us with all haste.”
The friends turned – hesitant, casting views back towards the Princesses. The guards led them across the carpet, to the large doors through which they had entered. The six ponies went through, and their guards stepped back to close the heavy barriers once more with an echoing clang.
Luna waited until they had bolted the doors again and were occupied in rattling the chains back into position across them.
“I saw him, sister. Somepony dreamt a fragment this eve. Of a distraught mare. Of him.”
The white alicorn had no words for her nocturnal sibling. She shared another look with the Princess of the Night, before unfurling a wing and placing it over her, soft and tender.
It had not exactly been a sleepless night for Twilight – the preceding evening’s stresses and revelations had taken their toll, superseding her mind’s resulting state of overdrive.
But the quality of her rest left something to be desired. Rainbow Dash snored.
Their return journey had finished late, but the pushy pegasus expressed no desire to leave her friend’s side even once they were safely back in Ponyville, and was not satisfied with the posting of mere Royal Guards outside of the unicorn’s library home. Twilight couldn’t tell if Dash had emphatically taken the Princess’ personal assignment for her to heart, or whether it was just Dash being Dash.
In any case, she was grateful for her friend’s presence, and the snoring had been a source of comfort as much as a hoofpath to sleep deprivation.
But now, with the arrival of a new day, it was time to pack.
Rainbow Dash lay back in a nonchalant pose against a bookshelf, muzzle entrenched in a copy of Daring Do and the Fate of Tacklantis. Books sailed this way and that above her head, caught in a lilac glow. Twilight had been too exhausted to consider tidying up after her deranged research practices the night before, but there was no way she was leaving the library looking like that for even a day or two. Besides, what if she needed to pack one of these books? They needed urgent re-alphabetisation and/or categorisation!
Dash yawned and stretched, then flicked a page across.
“How can you possibly be tired, Dash,” Twilight said with her eyes focused on yet more floating books. “Napping all yesterday afternoon, sleeping like a foal all night...”
“Yeah uh, it’s hard work organising a thunderstorm, y’know?” Dash looked up, and rolled her eyes. “‘Specially when someponies’d rather bounce on storm clouds than gather’m all up together in one place. Y’know, I think they actually like being electrocuted.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow, and with a sparkle from her horn, immersed The Complete Foal’s Guide to Transfiguration in a glowing spell. Several scattered pages from across the library leapt up in unison and fed themselves neatly back inside.
“Anyway, storm rolled over Ponyville as planned and faded on schedule. Executed perfectly, of course! Least I deserved was a nap. Doesn’t mean I should have to give up sleep the night after!” She lowered her gaze to her book once more. “Takes a lot of energy being awesome, y’know.”
Twilight smiled and shook her head. Her progress in clearing the floor of the scattered books had brought her to the pile nearest to Dash. All Daring Do, of course. On second thought, that was probably why she was here. With a cast-iron excuse to avoid admitting it, of course.
“Soo. Found any books you’re going to take? The boat trip is going to take a couple of days each way at least.”
Rainbow flicked her eyes to the pile aside her. “Think I found one or two I’ve only read twice. They’ll have to do.”
Twilight shook her head again. “If you’d paced yourself...”
Dash didn’t even dignify that with an upward glance. “Two ways to do something, Twi. Fast, and don’t even bother.”
The unicorn knew an unwinnable discussion when she saw one, and that might as well have been the example from the textbook.
“Well, speaking of not bothering, have you packed anything yet, Rainbow?” Twilight hadn’t seen her lift a hoof since dragging herself out of bed muttering something about breakfast. The pegasus subsequently settled down in that corner to read her way through the books she was supposed to be taking with her.
“Eh, I’m already taking the most important thing.”
“Oh?” Twilight couldn’t even see a saddlebag, much less an item of critical importance.
“Yeah. Me!” Dash put the book to one side and rose to her hooves, trotting out a circle inside the library’s largest room. “I’m the pony who’ll keep you safe out there, no sweat! Even the Princess knew it,” she beamed, fighting the urge to perform an excited little tap dance on the spot. “Not some snooty Outlander ponies who hate our Royal Family just ’cause.”
She flapped her wings a little, so fit to bursting with energy that it vented in any way it could. She trotted on a little further, and then came to a halt. She began to rock back and forth, mouth twitching as though she was wrestling with the wisdom of enunciating what was on her mind.
“Oh, but they’ll be so cool too!” she blurted, as if broaching a forbidden subject. “Special Operations ponies! Secret missions! Infiltration, stealth! Staying hidden, creeping up on some filthy Outland criminal, and then... wham!”
She somersaulted forward and kicked herself airborne, bouncing from wall to wall at blinding speed. Then she cannonballed towards the table in the centre, flipped in mid-air to avoid hitting it by a feather’s breadth before landing on her forelegs, spinning in a vicious bucking kick, finally rearing up and beating an imaginary assailant to within an inch of its life with her forehooves. “Yyyyaaaah!”
Twilight peeked out from behind the wall of books levitating in front of her.
“Rainbow, they’re coming to interview me, not attack somepony. I think that’ll call for a little more... restraint?”
“A little more boring, you mean!” Dash placed a hoof on her chin as she considered. “Yeah, guess they’ll have at least one unicorn pony to talk to you. Hold a quill and parchment ‘n’ things so she can write, and snooze-fest stuff like that. Rest’ve gotta be pegasi though! No offence Twi, but those glowy horns aren’t exactly stealthy. And what’s an earth pony gonna do? Farm someponies to death?” She chuckled a little at her own joke. “Nah, they had the right idea with Daring Do. Brave! Fearless! Cool! Oh this is gonna be so awesome!” She danced around on the spot, spinning her forelegs in a cascade of punches. “We’re gonna make the best team! I’m gonna show them all what a Cloudsdale pegasus can do! Wait ‘til I show them a sonic rainboo- oh! Sorry Twi!”
The unicorn rubbed her nose as Dash put a foreleg round her. “Dun’t wurry abud id.”
“Sorry…” Dash said again, grimacing. She checked her friend for blood, finding none. Twilight sniffed and examined her hoof, then dropped it to the floor, giving her friend a reassuring smile. The pegasus closed her eyes in relief, and then smiled back. The moment stretched.
Then Dash jumped away, back into the middle of the room. “I wonder what their talents’ll be! Do you think they’ll be able to do anything as awesome as a rainboom?” she beamed, starry-eyed. “Whatever it is, I bet they can do some really cool stuff! Hay, I bet they’ll have all sorts of really cool stuff! Special weapons, like, like retracting spiked horseshoes! And, and, jetpacks!”
“Just like the Wonderbolts, huh?” Twilight couldn’t help shaking her head once more at the ebullient pegasus, a wry smile completing her expression. “How do you ever come up with this stuff.”
Dash didn’t miss a beat. “Aw shaddup Twi. A Spec Ops pegasus like that would be awesome and you know it! Better than awesome! Super-cool and awesome! Awesomely coo-”
“Well now,” came Applejack’s voice from the library’s doorway. “Ah never thought Ah’d find mahself thinking ‘y’all should get a room’ about two ponies when ya ain’t even met each other yet...”
Dash froze up and flushed a little. “Uh, I, I dunno what you mean,” she sputtered, “I don’t need a room- NO! I didn’t mean- darn it, Applejack!”
She groaned and buried her face in her hooves, reddening even further in response to her distinctly unhelpful protestation.
Applejack chuckled as she paced inside the room and put a hoof on the pegasus’ shoulder. “Ah see y’all prefer outside where yer more likely ta get caught...”
Dash just shook her head, giving her best effort to the exercise of disappearing completely into her forelegs.
Twilight cleared her throat. “Ready to go then, Applejack?”
“Yup!” Applejack patted her saddlebags, although the word failed to do justice to their size. Twilight and her friends were going away for a few days, tops. Applejack had packed enough food to last them for what looked like weeks. “Harvest was pretty-near done anyhow. Mighty kind of the Princess to send down some Royal Guardin’ ponies to cover for me, too. Ah can’t see mahself bein’ sorely missed fer just a couple days, mind, but still a real nice gesture all the same.”
“She offered help to everypony, didn’t she?” Twilight responded. “I know she did to me. I thought Spike did such a fantastic job pet-watching last time that he’d be annoyed if I brought in some other ponies to assist him, but he actually insisted.”
If you could call it that. Other ponies might call it ‘clutching onto her leg like a scaly limpet and begging her to bring in Celestia’s own guards to help him’.
“Right ya are, Twiligh’. Ah think Fluttershy’s actually helpin’ ta train them ta look after all her animals right now.”
“Heh.” Rainbow Dash’s eyes were visible above her forehooves, which she apparently considered safe enough to withdraw. “Gotta feel sorry for those guards. Gonna be there a while!” She grinned.
“That’s fine, though. I can’t see her wanting to bring much anyway, and her animals are more important.” Twilight cocked her head. “Rarity, on the other hoof...”
“Yeeaahh.” Applejack grimaced. “Can Ah say she’s thinking about the clothes she’s gonna take, and leave it at that? Ah’ll probably have ta drag her outta there when it’s time ta go.”
Dash rolled her eyes. Twilight bit her tongue.
“So that leaves...”
“Mee!” Pinkie’s head poked through the library’s doorway, and retracted before anypony could say a word.
The three friends shared a look. Outside, there was a shuffling, grunting sound. A heavy object was being dragged closer at a torturous rate.
“The hay?” Dash leapt to her hooves and trotted to the doorway, craning her neck to see the source of the noise. “Pinkie, what are you do- Aagh!”
She shot backwards in a flurry of wing-beats as a ginormous brown sack jammed itself in the library entrance, and landed on her hooves once more.
The ponies all stared at the obstruction. The doorframe had splintered and cracked under its weight, and the library’s interior felt strangely dark now that the doorway no longer served as an additional light source. The sack jutted out in random places, stuffed to bursting point. It began to tremble even as a prolonged grunt of strain could be heard, muffled on the other side-
“Back! Dash yelled, speeding at Twilight and Applejack and pulling them further from the shuddering mass, seconds before it popped through the doorway and the string binding it shut came undone, scattering multi-coloured party fare across the floor.
Pinkie Pie, face-down and riding a small wave of bonbons, slowed to a halt just before reaching the open-mouthed trio.
“Oops!” She giggled, looking up at Twilight and the others, a fruit drop stuck to her cheek. “Maybe I should grease it next time!”
“Pinkie, what’s...” Twilight stared down at the assorted pile of confectionery, games, streamers, balloons and party hats. “You can’t possibly be taking all of this?”
“Oh noo, that’s silly!” Pinkie shook her head in a vigorous blur, frizzy mane tossing lollipops across the room. “I still need to pack but I don’t wanna pack all by myself cuz that’s no fun so I thought I’d bring all my stuff here and pack with all my friends!” She extended her tongue to snatch up the sweet glued to her face and chewed it up, smacking her lips at a decidedly antisocial volume. “Mm! Strawberry!”
“You packed all of your stuff so you could bring it here and, oh, you know what, never mind...” Twilight turned and tried to levitate the scattered mess into something resembling a coherent pile.
Pinkie grinned up at the items passing over her, shadows rolling across her face. Without warning, she leapt and grabbed what must have been her saddlebags, although it was difficult to tell under the stickers and balloons, never mind the lollipops. She set herself down next to the newly-created heap, and began to pick things out of it, one at a time.
“Got to have some yummy stuff! Nothing helps meeting new ponies like super-scrumptious party food!” Pinkie gasped. “I should bring some cakes! Equestrian baking is to die for!” She began to scoop an assortment of tins and plastic containers into her saddlebags.
Applejack stared at her, but Twilight was distracted by the sight of Spike making his way down the stairs.
“Got your tickets,” he said, waving a curled-up scroll. “The train’ll take you as far as it can go, then it looks like you’ll swap onto a boat.”
“Thank you, Spike,” said Twilight as she collected the parchment from Spike’s claw with her telekinesis. She unfurled it, expecting to capture the tickets in a separate field of levitation, but no such items were forthcoming. She squinted.
“…Do you think they’ll have time to play some board games with us? Ooooh, Equestria-opoly’s a good one! Dibs on the hat!”
“Okay, maybe ‘tickets’ was the wrong word,” said Spike as he caught sight of Twilight’s expression. “It’s more of an identity paper on how you’re all really important diplomat ponies and how everypony in Equestria has to help you however they can or somesuch,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The ponies operating the trains and running the boat already know you’re coming.”
“Oh right,” said Twilight, levitating the document into her saddlebags on the table. The ‘spur’ was already housed inside, wrapped in velvet. With Canterlot’s finest vouching for its inert state, Twilight and her friends were much more comfortable carrying it around. Dash had argued that she herself should carry it, of course. Twilight managed to convince the pegasus that if the trinket turned out to be tainted in some fashion, Rainbow couldn’t very well save anypony if she was at the epicentre of some malicious spell. In truth, Twilight was not going to risk the life of one of her friends to protect herself. If the spur was intended to harm her, so be it.
“...and we need party hats for everypony too! How many ponies are we meeting again? Oh it doesn’t matter, I’ll just pack a few of each colour…”
“Well, we are important,” Dash said from her sitting position, back in her favourite reading spot once more. “Sooner we get out there and help these Lodestar ponies, sooner we can stop ponies getting hurt.”
“…and you can never have too many balloons!” Pinkie was saying, stuffing more items into a saddlebag. “And a disco ball? Hmm...” Pinkie glared at the object in question, balanced on a hoof, her eyes narrowed as though the sheer Fluttershy-intensity of her stare could yield the answers she sought. “Well! I often find if you need this stuff, you really need it!” She stretched the bag’s opening to what should have been an impossible size, and dropped the glittering ball inside. There was no sound – at least, not for a few seconds. Only then was there an impossibly-distant, echoing clang.
“Pinkie, you’ve got to be able to carry those bags as well as fit what you want to bring in them,” Twilight said, trying to keep the sigh out of her voice.
“Oh, I know! That’s why I’m packing so many helium balloons!”
Twilight blinked. Like with a lot of Pinkie Pie logic, that pronouncement occupied the bizarre sweet spot of utterly ridiculous and just-crazy-enough-to-work. The unicorn decided, as she often did in these situations, that further inquiries would lead to only one thing – a headache.
“So, yeah…” Rainbow Dash soldiered on. “Faster we get there, the better. Too bad we couldn’t all fly in a pegasus chariot – doesn’t get much faster than that!” she said, leaping to her hooves once more and stretching out as if flying through some imaginary wind-shear. “But weather’s a bit too unpredictable over the sea. Pegasi don’t exactly waste time managing it where nopony lives.”
“Ah think Ah can live without flyin’ all the way over,” said Applejack, looking somewhat fidgety. “Better to keep all four hooves on the ground, Ah say. Gimme a boat any day over – Pinkie, no!”
Twilight and Rainbow Dash looked around at Pinkie as Applejack made for her with an urgent trot. The bubbly mare’s forelegs were wrapped around a pile big enough that it obscured her face. Twilight could see bottle rockets.
“Whaaat?” said the cluster in a pouty voice.
“Ah draw the line there, darlin’. Y’all can’t be serious packin’ that.”
“But, but, what if, what if we really, really, need-”
“We’ll take the risk Ah think, sugarcube,” Applejack said as she tried to steer the offending cluster back towards the Pinkie Pile.
“Fine!” Pinkie dumped everything she was holding back with the rest of her belongings, her pout now visible as well as audible. A wheel-like object began to roll away across the room. “On your own heads be it!”
Pinkie’s friends rolled their eyes as she chased the rogue item out of the library door.
“So… you’re off soon, huh?” Spike looked down at his feet. “Gonna be real quiet without you…”
“Oh Spike, I’m missing you already…” Twilight leant down and hugged the baby dragon. “I don’t think you’d like it anyway. It’s going to be mostly travel, all for the sake of me talking for an hour or two to some ponies I’ve never met.”
“Yeah, s’pose,” Spike said, rocking back and forth. “Just, stay safe out there, won’t you.” He gave his unicorn friend a sad smile.
“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ll be in Equestria for nearly the whole time, after all.” Twilight brightened. “I’ll see if I can pick you up a souvenir! Maybe they have unique gems out there! New flavours!”
“Alright! Now you’re talking!” Spike’s mind shifted gears onto the subject of food with well-oiled, practiced precision. “I’ll have my best cake recipe on standby for when you get back!”
Twilight grinned. Spike successfully baking a cake using irresistible new gems? It’d be a safer bet to try to understand Pinkie Pie.
“Well, Ah’ll leave y’all ta finish up here,” said Applejack, dumping her saddle-crates on the floor. “Ah need to go get started on Rarity if’n we’re gonna catch our train.”
Twilight nodded. “Leaving at six.”
Applejack frowned. “Ah’d better start runnin’ then. Later, y’all!” She took off through the library door at a gallop, passing Pinkie on her way back in, the recovered object clasped in her indignant mouth.
Twilight turned back to the floor as Applejack’s galloping hooves receded into inaudibility. “Well, since you’re here Spike, how about helping me finish clearing up?”
“Urgh. I take it back. When are you going?”
The unicorn looked around, throwing her best visual daggers at the stupid giggle-heads she called her friends.
* * *
The train journey was largely uneventful, although this was in truth a welcome respite from the panic the ponies endured. They had arrived far too late, yet the locomotive was still waiting at the station when they emerged, panting, onto the platform. It left only once they were all accounted for and seated – much to the irritation of their fellow passengers. Twilight didn’t know what to make of that.
They were the only ones travelling to the end of the line. More accurately, they were only ones who were permitted. The train was held for several minutes at the penultimate station as Royal Guards combed the carriages for anypony else, checking and re-checking Twilight’s diplomatic waiver. When the friends were finally waved through, the sun had long gone and it wasn’t possible to see much of Equestria’s Eastern Military Port. Not that it mattered – the six ponies were past caring by that point. All they wanted to do was find their cabin on the galleon and sleep for about a year.
* * *
Neither Twilight nor her friends had taken much in the way of time to consider their eventual destination. Their task had been thrust upon them at short notice, after all. There were far more important things on their minds than the dock at the end of their journey. But now, as they stood on the top deck of the ship, straining to make out any signs of Sanctuary, they were thinking of little else.
They were mere minutes away now, the Captain had told them. Rainbow Dash leant over the edge of the bow, a hoof pressed against her forehead as she tried to make out their destination through the fog that clung all around them. Flying was pointless in this visual soup – not that she hadn’t tried it. After nearly losing her bearings, something that would have resulted in her being stranded alone in zero visibility above a frigid ocean, miles from the nearest land mass, she decided that she could suffer remaining on her hooves this once.
Rarity was dressed up in her best waterproof fare, of course. Her umbrella was angled in a strategic first line of defence against any spray coming over the bow. Fluttershy was standing close to her, although nearer the centre-point of the forward deck – the better not to look overboard at the ocean swell. Fog or no fog, the only view she was benefiting from was that of her forehooves. Twilight was closer to Dash than most, also curious to see the first hint of the outpost. She kept one eye on Applejack, though, who was slumped with her back against one side of the boat, a forehoof placed on top of the railing. Her cheeks were puffed out, and as she made eye contact with Twilight again, her eyes went wide and she threw her upper half over the railings once more, her body stretched and shuddering. After a few seconds, she went limp and slid back down onto the deck, one hoof still holding her stetson in place, the other wiping her mouth. Her eyes said ‘don’t ask’, and Twilight readily assented.
Pinkie, who as far as anypony knew was still sitting atop the mast, now made her presence known. She had somehow moved past all the other ponies to sneak up behind Dash. There is a subset of high-pitched squeaks that the pegasus would never dream of vocalising voluntarily, and Pinkie managed to elicit a particularly juicy example by tipping Dash forward over the water, gripping her by her splayed forelegs. “Hee! You’re the Queen of Equestria, Dashie!”
“Pinkie!” Dash gasped. “What the hay!”
“No, no, you’re supposed to say, ‘I’m flying!’”
“You idiot, this isn’t flying!” said Dash as she wobbled, flapped her wings and stared wildly down at the waves beneath her. “More like – attempted murder!”
“Aw. You’re no fun today!” Pinkie pouted, and let Dash down gently. She then bounced back in the direction of the stern, a tuneless hum diminishing in her wake.
Dash un-crumpled herself from where Pinkie had dumped her, and glared around at the others, far too late to spot them doing anything other than looking in random directions, their neutral expressions strained.
She turned back, huffing, and then froze. “Hey, I think – yeah, I see something.”
Port Sanctuary was situated on the tiny lip of Equestrian soil that represented the sole area of royal jurisdiction on the Outland border. At present, it was still shrouded in the persistent fog, and only the mustard glow of torches through the murky grey soup hinted at its presence. The sea was calm, and the lack of wind meant eerie quiet, made all the more acute by the poor visibility. The occasional faint exclamation or tone of steel hitting steel carried across on the salty air, increasing in intensity as the port continued to emerge from the mists.
Twilight let out a low breath through her teeth as she began to recognise shapes. The slimy jetty was closest, extending out to greet them from the sea-blackened stone of the harbour. Beyond, a pair of towers stood to either side, pony-sized flames burning atop them. Balconies jutted out from them, occupied by crossbow-toting Royal Pegasus Guards.
Twilight looked over at the others, locking eyes with Rainbow Dash. Even the pegasus’ enthusiasm seemed somewhat dampened – they had hardly expected a champagne reception, of course, but Port Sanctuary would have looked at home in a swamp. One that lacked the reassuring chirping tones of the local insect and amphibian population.
A foghorn rang out from somewhere above the ponies’ heads, jolting them. A sequence of shouted exclamations came in response, and soon a group of armoured pegasi had swooped out of the fog onto the jetty. They stood to attention in a line as the boat drew up alongside, and saluted the new arrivals. The two ponies at either end were already moving again as the ship came to a halt, snatching up the deck ropes in their jaws. With practiced agility, they began to loop the mooring lines around the jetty bollards, securing the craft in place.
More came, eight of them. They swept across from behind one of the sentinel towers, each with a rope knotted around their waists, affixed at the other end to the same large wooden board. They flew to the boat, stopping the instant one end of their cargo was aligned with its side, and then landed with military precision, forming a ramp between vessel and jetty.
“Twilight Sparkle and friends! Welcome to Port Sanctuary!”
* * *
Seaweed, as it turns out, stinks.
“Oh, I do believe I’m going to be ill…”
“Urgh, Ah’d tell ya ta button it, Rarity...” Applejack’s pace was a far cry from her usual confident strides. “But Ah don’t think Ah got nuthin’ left ta give. Next time… Ah’m gonna swim it.” She shook her head, and then thought better of it. “Give me a place ta stand that don’t h-heave.”
It hadn’t taken long for the guards of Sanctuary to collect the six ponies’ luggage from the depths of the vessel they had disembarked. Protocol seemed to demand the guards continue to bear its burden even as they escorted Twilight and her friends through what was beginning to look more like a military outpost than a port. Visibility was much improved here, as the fog had not penetrated a great distance into Sanctuary beyond the jetty. Whether it was due to the diligent work of pegasus guards carving out a small haven of clarity in the impenetrable grey, or just a natural feature of the local geography, the ponies could not say.
Regardless, with their first view of the sky in at least a day, they could see that the sun was already making its way towards the horizon.
They passed by patrols of spear ponies, of crossbow ponies. To the left, a multitude of barracks. Several pairs of guards were dressed in full battle armour outside them, swinging swords at each other with their unicorn magic. The loud clangs of steel were the only sound aside from the hoof-falls of patrolling ponies. To the right, storehouses intermingled with low-set structures resembling living quarters. The boarded-up windows, insufficient to mask the full intensity of the lights burning inside, betrayed a darker purpose.
Soon they were able to see the perimeter wall ahead of them, a dark shape whose details were lost in the dazzle of the low sun that had yet to sink behind it. They had seen a wall of that height before, but it had been a miniature, threaded around the scale projection of the Lodestar Republic they had seen a few nights before. It was far more imposing in reality, and not just for its physical attributes – the ponies knew that here, as with Lodestar, it represented the final barrier separating civilisation from the anarchic lands beyond it. Once they left its protection, they would be without Equestrian support until their return.
Four guards appeared around a low-set storehouse, approaching from the direction of the wall. It soon became apparent that a bedraggled pegasus was being carried in their midst, wings strapped to his side and legs bound with ropes. He was looking around in fear, and fighting to keep his breath under control. The six friends stared as the guards brought him past without so much as a sideways glance – he raked his eyes over Twilight and her friends, but maintained his desperate silence. The guards marched him into one of the buildings with boards on the windows, and shut the door with a thud.
“They, they’re not going to hurt that pony, are they?” Fluttershy kept pace with her own guards who had not slowed, but her head was turned in the direction of the metal door through which the pegasus had disappeared.
“No, Ms Fluttershy,” said the nearest guard, still looking straight ahead. “Just standard procedure.”
Fluttershy fell silent, but her expression made it clear she was not entirely reassured.
They reached the wall, and the stone staircase that led all the way up onto it. The guards climbed without a word, and the ponies followed.
The top surface of the wall had every characteristic of a battlement to it, with a parapet running along the side farthest from the top of the staircase, embrasures carving crossbow firing slits at regular intervals. Twilight pressed a hoof to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun’s dazzling intensity. She nevertheless trotted with determination to the far side of the wall, hoof still held aloft, to see for herself at last: the infamous Outlands.
She squinted. Had she been expecting a desolate wasteland, a place of blackened, calcified, leafless trees and sickly, yellowed grass? Brackish rivers and mudflats?
She hadn’t anticipated so much forest, that was for sure. In fact, it was difficult to see much else. But it was lush and verdant, and in the few places without trees, green fields asserted themselves.
It actually looked… pretty okay. Perhaps not too surprising in retrospect, she thought, her brain engaging with the data as it was wont to do. A land untouched by civilisation is unlikely to suffer very much from deforestation.
“Stand back from the wall.”
The rumbling voice came from Twilight’s right, and she took a hoof-ful of instinctive backward steps. The ponies all turned to face the hulking mass as it approached. Clanking towards them along the wall’s hoof-path, in full-body heavy combat barding, was a dark grey earth pony stallion that could have seen eye-to-eye with Big Mac.
Fluttershy squeaked and hid behind Applejack and Rarity. Most everypony else stared. Rainbow Dash shuffled towards Twilight, but seemed to show little desire to be confrontational.
The stallion reached the group and halted, his chain-mail rattling with the change in momentum. He gazed down at the ponies, orange light from the evening sun highlighting his scarred face. Only one of his eyes, the left, was trained on them – his milky, glassy right eye never moved from its blank, centralised stare.
“Twilight Sparkle. Celestia’s chosen. And companions.”
Twilight had no time to open her mouth before the ironclad pony sank forward in a deep bow.
“It is my honour to host you here tonight.”
“Th-thank you,” Twilight replied, now finding herself having to look down rather than up. “You… you can stand up, you know.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Bulging muscles hoisted the giant pony and barding to a standing position once more.
“It’s... nice to meet you,” Twilight said, trying her very best to look the stallion in his good eye. “May I have your name?”
“Of course, Ms Sparkle. Please allow me to introduce myself formally.” The boulder pony stomped into a military stance – was it Twilight’s imagination, or did the cobblestones crack? “I am Bulwark, Commander of the Port Sanctuary Garrison. I have been told to expect you, and my orders are to give you any help you may require, to answer any questions you may have, and then to unseal the Outland gateway for you to pass through.” Bulwark had kept his rigid pose, staring straight ahead above the ponies’ heads the entire time, but his deep baritone took on a harsh edge at these last words.
“I think we’re okay for supplies, aren’t we?” Twilight said, turning her head towards her friends, who responded with a combination of nods and shrugs. “I’m sure we have some questions, though.”
Bulwark tipped his head. “Ask.”
Twilight gazed at the scarred, dead-eyed stallion, and knew instantly which subject she’d be avoiding.
“What is this place?”
“Port Sanctuary. It has been operational on the cusp of the Outlands for centuries, Ms Sparkle. Its name has changed many times, to mirror that of the pony commanding the garrison.”
“Um, but…”
“With Princess Luna’s release and redemption, a number of changes were instigated here at her personal behest. One of which was the dissolution of this naming tradition, and the permanent rebranding of the port as Sanctuary.”
“Aaww but that’s sooo sad! Now you can’t call it Port Bulwark! I like that name! Bulwark! Bull-wark! Bee-yew-el-dubbleyew…” Pinkie bounced, a smile on her mouth and her eyes closed, oblivious and in full flow. Her friends screwed up their faces, hoping against hope that the mountainous stallion before them was possessed of a degree of patience. “…kay!” Pinkie finished, beaming up at him.
“It is my honour to do my Princesses’ bidding, Ms Pie,” Bulwark replied, Pinkie’s antics apparently invisible to him. “I had, and have, no interest in promoting my own inconsequential title. My duty is to serve, nothing more.”
Bulwark let that hang in the air for a few seconds, before continuing. “This outpost serves as a hoof-hold on the continent, for the occasional exchange of diplomatic cargo between the Lodestari and ourselves, or for the removal of a pony deemed fit only for exile. It is far safer to land a ship in a port under Equestrian dominion than to attempt landfall on a beachhead over which we have no control.”
Silence. No two ways about it, Bulwark’s emotionless responses were a definite damp blanket over proceedings.
“What… what are your guards doing to that pegasus,” Fluttershy asked.
“I assume you refer to the pegasus we have just taken in, Ms Fluttershy. Please be reassured that we do not harm anypony if we can avoid it.” Bulwark moved to the other side of the wall, looking down on the squat constructions of Sanctuary. “It has been a long-standing policy that any Outlander willing to foreswear the life of a criminal may approach us in search of Equestrian citizenship.” He looked up at the orange sky. “Princess Luna, shortly following her return to us, commanded that we redouble our efforts to communicate this policy across the border. Ponies born in the Outlands do not always grow into savages without scruples. The Princess of the Night was crystal clear: they deserve an opportunity for redemption.”
“So that pony came to y’all ta come and live in Equestria?” Applejack asked, looking confused. “Can’t say he seemed all that happy about it.”
“Not all attempts to bypass the gateway into Sanctuary are sincere, Ms Applejack. Until an interrogation has been performed, we do not take chances.”
The tank-like pony elaborated no further, and stood in readiness for the next question. Twilight found herself hoping that the word ‘interrogation’ was no euphemism. From the looks of her friends, they were thinking much the same.
“‘Our cutie marks do not define us. A pony may useth their talent for both good and ill.’” Bulwark quoted, continuing to look across the port to the horizon. “We are blessed to count a mare possessing her wisdom amongst our number once more.” He looked around at the ponies. “A sincere defector is treated with the rights of a full citizen, make no mistake. Some are so loyal, in fact, that they volunteer to venture back into the Outlands to spread our offer of redemption, often at great personal risk.” He sighed. “I desire nothing more than to join them in this noble endeavour,” he said as his expression darkened.
Dash looked sympathetic. “You gotta stay here and command stuff rather than go out on missions?”
The massive pony nodded. “There was a time when we liaised with Lodestari Special Forces. We do not any more, and even if we did, I would no longer be one of those chosen to go,” he almost growled. Rainbow Dash, biting her lip, lingered perhaps too long on his injuries. “They are fools,” he said, glaring at Dash. “Our Princesses may exile ponies as a last resort, but the Lodestari see fit to cast out their own for even minor transgressions. It is absurd,” Bulwark grunted, shaking his head.
“I have seen the bitterness of those fortunate enough to make their way here. We offer them the second chance that the Lodestari denied, and to a mare they become loyal, upstanding subjects of Our Royal Highnesses. Those who remain lost in the wilderness... are not so blessed,” he said, his tone flattening. “They continue to seethe at their maltreatment. And they are out there,” he swept a hoof out across the forested lands stretching to the horizon.
“Out there in the company of true criminals who are only too happy to capitalise on their resentment. For too long now, the Outland ponies have grown in number, swelling the ranks of despicable gangs and cabals, even as the Lodestari grow more insular. They will not acknowledge it, but the problem is starting to become untenable. They have no love for anything save their own interests, and-”
A yell pierced the air, a screamed command. Friends and guards alike spun in its direction, somewhere further along the wall. Even as Twilight spotted the shape of the pegasus flying towards them from the Outlands, the harsh glare of the sun behind it, a blast of coloured light erupted from the battlements and hit it dead-on. The flying pony crumpled instantly, plunging towards the ground.
Fluttershy was screaming even before she saw the dropped colt falling alongside it.
Seconds from impact, the two ponies erupted with light, and their descent slowed. They settled down on the grass, in full view of the ponies patrolling the wall, motionless.
“What’s, what’s, what did you do?!” Fluttershy had barely made it off the ground before Bulwark grabbed her.
“It’s just a paralysis spell, Ms Fluttershy,” Bulwark grunted, his discomfort at his own actions manifesting in a grimace. “It will wear off. Please, for your own safety, let us deal with this.”
Beams of light shone out from an array of horns, focusing down on the prostrate pair. Four pegasi vaulted the parapet and swooped down in front of them, spears at the ready. “Remain where you are!” one of them bellowed.
The expressions on the Outlanders’ faces were just visible – pure terror.
“That ain’t right,” Applejack said as she glared down in distaste at the spectacle of two spear ponies moving in to frisk both mare and colt alike.
“I am sorry you had to see that,” said Bulwark, himself watching the activity with an expression of determined neutrality. “Two in one evening is rare, and pegasi are the worst.”
“What. How come?” Bulwark turned to see Dash’s narrow-eyed expression.
“They often do not realise how close their flight brings them to crossing the border, and sometimes do not stop in time. Some of the factions in the Outlands desire our destruction. The Resurgent do not base themselves nearby, but they engineer the occasional attack, I’m certain of it. An approaching pony could be carrying weapons, poisons, even explosives. The safety of the outpost is paramount.”
He turned back to watch the guard pegasi, still illuminated by the unicorn spotlights, dragging the bound mare and her colt back towards the wall, disappearing out of sight. There was a creaking, grinding noise, which ceased after a few seconds.
Bulwark turned and moved in silence to the other side of the walkway, his eyes following the group of guards as they took the limp pair of ponies towards one of the vacant interrogation rooms. The grinding resumed, and stopped again after a short delay.
The stallion let out a heavy breath as the door to the interrogation room thudded shut.
“More and more. It gets worse out there every day.”
“You said,” Twilight began, “you said you get ponies trying to attack here. Are they trying to hurt anypony in particular?”
“I am conscious of these assassination attempts, Ms Sparkle. None have hit here.”
“Do any ponies get past the garrison?” Rainbow Dash asked.
Bulwark swivelled and fixed Dash with his remaining eye. “No.”
“But what,” Twilight tried to interject, “what about unicorns? Couldn’t some of them know how to teleport?”
“Ms Sparkle, a pony capable of magically crossing the breadth of the sea from outside Sanctuary would be unprecedented. In any case…”
He waved a hoof over at the towers at the far end of the port.
“We have runes and a projected magical detection webwork centralised in those towers. We can detect the point of origin of any teleportation that crosses this wall, and from there divine the intended destination.” He looked directly at Twilight once more. “After we were informed of your encounter, Ms Sparkle, we consulted those operating the runes. No such teleportation was recorded.”
Twilight frowned. Sounded like a ‘no’ for the teleportation camp, then.
“Is there anything further you wish to know?”
Twilight looked at her friends. Their expressions seemed to mirror what she was thinking. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can leave this place and never, ever come back.
“Can you tell us how to get to this old train station? We’re meeting these Lodestar ponies there.”
Bulwark let out his breath in a grunt. “It is directly north-east of here, Ms Sparkle. It is often used for such meetings, and not difficult to find. Walk in that direction – it is mostly downhill. The train station stands proud of the trees, and your pegasus friends will be able to see it without a problem, should you not know a direction-finding spell.”
Twilight nodded, and proffered a hoof. “Thank you very much, Mr- Commander Bulwark,” she said, shaking a hoof the size of a dinner plate. “You’ve been very helpful. I suppose you have to ask somepony to open the gate?”
Bulwark nodded, but he made no attempt to move from looking directly at Twilight. “One more thing.”
Twilight almost didn’t want to know. “Yes?”
Bulwark sighed; a low, deep rumble. “The place you are about to enter is untamed, and uncontrolled. You will not be venturing much farther beyond this wall, but it would still be remiss of me not to offer you the best advice I can, for your own safety.”
The stallion commander looked at each and every mare in front of him in turn, ensuring he had their full attention. “Do not trust these ponies. You have seen a hoof-ful of Outlanders who might bear us Equestrians no ill will. But they are the exception. Outlanders are almost all self-centred criminals to a mare, and from my dealings with them, the Lodestar Republic is no different, just with a banner and an anthem. And they are still the best ponies you could hope to meet out there. Organised criminal gangs are far more common – like The Resurgent, who are the perpetrators of these assassinations – or so the Lodestari claim. But on some matters I cannot say which acts are those of criminals, and which are Lodestari. Some of the ponies we’ve interrogated…”
His eye drifted off to the side as he became lost in thought, and Twilight’s imagination did some very unwelcome gap-filling. Bulwark looked back. “I’ve heard tales. Tactics of fear. Of intimidation. Raiding parties that attack a settlement, kill the leaders, and then vanish into the night. Giant metal ponies that cannot be killed and show no mercy to any pony they set their sights on. Settlements deep inside the Outlands being washed out of existence, there one day, and nothing but scorched earth the next. Hearsay and rumour, perhaps. But if so much as one is true – it is no random act of marauding raiders.”
Bulwark stood tall, and pierced the ponies below with a gaze.
“Were it me? Make your delivery, little ponies. Discuss what needs to be discussed. Then flee that place. Come home.”
Twilight tried not to betray the butterflies in her stomach. Oh, please let us go!
“You should leave immediately,” Bulwark said as he turned. “Lodestari Special Forces operate at night. In the Outlands, day would be little safer for you. And do not use illumination spells unless there is no choice.” Without a further word, he began to clank down the steps. The six ponies followed, although Rarity had to nudge Fluttershy to get her moving.
The garrison commander walked along the base of the wall, passing torches overhead. No flames crowned them, although surely this would soon be rectified. Twilight dully wondered if there were special extended lighters for the earth ponies to light them. Maybe they just got a pegasus to hover up and do it.
Soon they came upon a unicorn, standing at attention alongside a portcullis set into the masonry. Here it was much easier to appreciate the thickness of the wall; any pony viewing the archway from an angle could easily have mistaken it for a tunnel.
“Raise it. These ponies are going outside.”
The unicorn gave no hesitation before saluting. His horn erupted with light, and his companion on the opposite side of the gap mirrored his motions. Two spoked wooden wheels, each set into the wall alongside the two unicorns, glowed with near-light, and began to grind and rotate. A loud creaking filled the air, one that Twilight and her friends had already heard twice before. The crisscross of shadows climbed everypony’s face as the portcullis retracted into its housing, rays of light from the setting sun flickering through the archway. Twilight looked away from the glare, at one of the unicorns – who flicked his own eyes straight ahead once more.
The guards who had accompanied the friends for the entirety of their time in Sanctuary now offered them their belongings without a word. Twilight and the others took their bags and strapped them to their sides, responding to their guards’ silence in kind. Only Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie displayed anything resembling enthusiasm.
“Good luck to you, Twilight Sparkle and friends. Stay together. Come back soon.” Bulwark sank into another bow. “I dearly wish I could accompany you. Only my orders prevent me.”
Twilight gave a stiff nod. In truth, she was relieved to be leaving the brusque stallion’s presence.
“Let’s go, girls.”
Rainbow Dash was the first to move, trotting into the light with determination. Her elongated shadow, wings and all, bounced under the hooves of her friends following closely behind.
Springy grass. Dazzling orange light. And a treeline just a minute’s trot away.
With a squeal of rusty friction, the gate behind them began to close once more. The ponies looked back. The giant stallion stood behind it, saluting.
Then with a thud the gate was shut, and just like that the ponies were on their own.
Twilight swallowed, and gave a nod in the direction of the deep forest, away from the towering wall, from Sanctuary.
Bulwark’s words still rang in the unicorn’s ears as the group moved past the first trees, and then further into the unkempt woods. The grass continued underhoof, wild and untamed. Clusters of heather and shrubs jostled with the trees for space, and lush vegetation tickled the ponies’ knees. There was little sound other than the rustling of the wind through leaves. The sun was now touching the horizon – not that anypony could see it – and the light was fading fast.
Twilight grimaced. She almost wished there was something scarier about this place. Then her imagination wouldn’t have such free reign.
* * *
Bulwark clinked his way back from the gate, allowing his head to droop now that his guests were gone. Truth be told, he would never have let those ponies out of his sight were it his decision to make. The politics of the situation, those that dictated he would not be able to escort those brave ponies personally or even send his finest soldiers in his place, were infuriating to him. There were plenty who would willingly, gladly volunteer. But no, we avoid bucking the hornet’s nest of Outland scum, city dwellers and otherwise, he fumed. Maintaining this pretence that they’d extend us and our fellow Equestrians the same courtesy.
But – he had enough self-awareness to admit – he was biased. Especially after the incident.
He nodded at two passing guards, who saluted as they went by.
Bulwark looked up at the two towers at the opposite end of the outpost. Doppler could usually be found there. She would be sending one more message tonight. Bulwark had done his duty, for Princesses and Patria.
“Commander Bulwark, sir!”
The large pony halted, and shifted position in the direction of the voice. One of the unicorn interrogators, floating a debrief report alongside him.
Bulwark saluted, and the unicorn did likewise.
“You have a report?”
The saluting pony swallowed. “Yes Commander Bulwark, sir! From the first Outlander we took in this evening.” He paused, reflected hornlight glistening from his forehead. “H-he refused to speak to us until we guaranteed we would not be hoofing him over to the surviving Lodestari,” he said, blinking. “Sir, you need to read-”
Surviving Lodestari. Bulwark’s expression twisted, showing his teeth. “Another terrorist murderer who thinks we offer free diplomatic immunity. Very well.” He looked over towards the row of interrogation prefabs. “Tonight, I am in a mood to explain to him personally why any promises we made are null and void.” Bulwark raised an eyebrow as he noticed the unicorn’s military bearing was somehow addled. His eyes were twitching, his neutral expression forced. “I understand if you are not comfortable doing it yourself. It is of no consequence. I fully intend to take responsibility on this occasion.” The large pony began to pace towards the buildings. “I tell you, I am not in the mood for nonsense. If he argues enough I’ll be throttling him before we throw him back outside.” He turned back towards the unicorn. “Take me to him.”
The pony kept his hooves rooted to the spot. He screwed up his eyes. “Sir… you shouldn’t do that.”
Bulwark’s ears stabbed out. He stomped back to the unicorn and fixed him with a cyclopean glare. “What did you say?”
The guard flinched, but held his eyes fast on his superior officer, his horn still glowing. “C-Commander Bulwark sir, I would not be doing my duty if I did not… implore you, to read the debrief first.”
Bulwark’s glare mutated into a stare. The pony’s lip was trembling; he looked on the verge of tears.
The debrief continued to hover in place. The ponies were still locked in their mutual stares, but the item in their peripheral vision was suddenly the only thing either of them could see.
The earth pony commander kept his eye trained on the unicorn as his head began to pivot towards the floating paper. Without another word he took it, and read.
His eye moved back and forth across the words. It grew wider. He read faster, his eye now darting from side to side.
And then he was gone, the paper wafting down to the ground, with only the thunderous sound of his galloping hooves to mark his exit.
Guards dived aside, as the speeding tank of a pony flew towards the wall with terrible momentum. He leapt for the stairs and charged up them three steps at a time, then turned and skidded, bleeding off just enough kinetic energy to avoid completely winding himself as his chest slammed against the parapet-
“Ms Sparkle! Twilight Sparkle!” Birds flapped up from the black shapes of the trees into the blood-red sky. But nopony answered.
“MS SPARKLE!”
The unicorn had caught up with him now. Staring in fear, as were several other nearby guards.
“Princesses… damn it!” Bulwark screamed, rearing up and slamming his forehooves down on the solid rock of the wall. A chunk the size of a foal’s head cracked off and fell to the ground below, cement dust saturating the air nearby.
He sucked in deep, growling breaths as he stared down at the crumbling piece of dislodged masonry.
“Should we send out a search party, sir?” the interrogator-unicorn asked.
“No,” Bulwark grunted at last. “They’ll find out soon enough, and if they have any sense at all, they’ll turn around and come straight back the moment they know.” He scanned the horizon. “We don’t have enough ponies here as it is. We’re going to have an equitarian crisis on our hooves before long. By the Princesses, they’ll swamp us.”
Bulwark stood up to his full height, casting a long shadow across the entire length of the port. He beckoned the unicorn and the nearest two pegasus guards over.
“Swiftsure: I’m cancelling all patrols – find them and tell them. Wake any pony currently on a sleep shift. I want every available combat pony standing on this wall.”
The pegasus nodded once and took to the air above the port.
“Slipstream: Find Farrier. Get him to unseal the entire armoury. As soon as he’s done that…” Bulwark’s eye lingered on the port for just a second, then focused back on the pegasus mare. “Distribute the combat gear spares to every nonessential member of staff. They are to stand on this wall with the others.”
“But sir,” the unicorn interjected, “you must know not every pony garrisoned here has combat training. Some of them are practically civilians.”
“Yes,” Bulwark nodded at the unicorn, and his single animate eye was over-bright. “I want the non-combatants here as well, dressed as guards. We have to look as defended as we can.”
Even if that’s more than we really are.
“Tell Farrier to hoof-pick some ponies to assist him in converting all the barracks into suitable refugee camps, and get the rest on this wall as soon as possible. Dismissed, Slipstream. As for you, Syphon…” Bulwark checked that the pegasus mare had indeed gone before leaning in towards the unicorn, murmuring down to him. “I need you. Doppler will, too.”
Syphon swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, sir. Don’t worry about me. I left Lodestar behind years ago.”
Bulwark bowed his head. “Then find me the names of every unicorn we have that can perform area-of-effect paralysis spells. Then go to Doppler – I think you should be the one to break the news to her. But don’t take long – I need her to contact the mainland at once. We need more soldiers, more supplies, more boats. Everything...”
He let out his breath as he began to see black shapes moving across the sky towards them.
“Celestia preserve us.” He turned to the growing number of guards posted along the wall. He took a deep breath, and shouted: “When Twilight and her friends reappear, I want them moved to the front of the mob and taken inside this wall as soon as possible, do you understand?!”
As one, the guards saluted their response.
Bulwark just swallowed.
“Tell Doppler to wait for me before transmitting, Syphon. I need to decide how we’re going to tell the Princesses.”
* * *
The temperature was dropping too, now. The tree canopy above was robbing the six ponies of what little light and warmth there was left in the day.
Still, wouldn’t be long, Twilight reassured herself. They’d meet those ponies soon, and they could go home. She shivered. It had been one thing to hear Bulwark’s grim assessment of this place from behind a solid wall guarded by Equestria’s finest, but out here, despite the obscuring foliage, she felt exposed. Terribly exposed. This was no place for them, and Bulwark had known it. She found herself regretting how eager she had been to get away from the stallion. All he had wanted was for them to be safe. And now they were alone. Or appeared to be. Were there assassins here, now, camouflaged in the undergrowth? Would she or her friends react in time to stop them? Would-
“Shh.”
Rainbow Dash, leading the group, had halted, foreleg outstretched to hold the others back. She gave Twilight a pointed look, and tilted her head twice in succession. Back. Now.
The friends stood in dead silence.
Dash moved her wings in slow arcs, just enough to reduce her weight to the point where she could move forward without a sound. She seemed particularly interested in a mass of shrubs a few hooves away. Was it Twilight’s imagination, or did they seem to be bending less with the breeze than the surrounding plants?
The pegasus stared at the dark foliage for a few seconds. Then she shot forward in a blur, there was a yell, and Dash had traced a tight curve, landing with a thud just in front of her friends. She was standing; the dishevelled earth pony was not. Instead he was pinned, looking around in fear, a cyan hoof on his throat.
“Whoa-oh hey, okay, y’got me,” he stuttered, hooves held either side in a limp posture. “D-Don’t…”
Rainbow Dash glared down at him. “Who are you?!”
“L-Look, you don’t gotta…” He swallowed, a gesture made difficult by the pressure on his neck. “My saddlebags. S’everything I have. Take it all, yeah? Y’got no need to h-hurt me. Jus’ take it, an’ let me go…”
Dash blinked, and then the implication dawned on her. Her lip curled, and she leant in towards the Outlander’s face. “We. Are not. Criminals.”
The tattered pony’s mouth opened in confusion. “Huh? Then…”
He stared at Dash. Then, with an expression of deepening horror, he looked at the other ponies grouped around, heads tilted down towards him. He looked back at Dash’s snarling face, and his eyes widened even further.
“Lodestari! Oh darkest Luna, no!” He began to hyperventilate. “Please! I had nothin’ t’ do with it!” he moaned, tears beginning to stream down his face. “Oh please believe me!” he wailed, sobs wracking his body, “I don’t want t’die…”
Now it was Dash’s turn to gape, slack-jawed, at the hysterical pony pinned beneath her. She looked up at Twilight as he whimpered and cried, sharing her best look of confusion.
The unicorn felt only an icy chill.
“Nopony is going to hurt you. Nopony.” Twilight didn’t recognise the voice at first, and she turned – only to discover it was Fluttershy. Her voice was iron, and almost unrecognisable for it.
“She has the right of it, of course,” said Rarity as she looked down in sympathy at the wretched grey-brown stallion. “If you mean us no harm, we have no intention of bestowing harm ourselves.”
The pony lay and shook a while longer, eyes screwed tight. Dash removed her hoof from his throat, allowing him to breathe more freely. Eventually, it became clear even to him that no vicious murder was forthcoming, and he blinked an eye open. A final tear rolled down his cheek.
“Who are you ponies?”
Twilight paused, wondering what was best to say. Applejack had no such qualms.
“Well howdy! Nice ta meet y’all! Sorry fer the scare an’ all. Ah’m Applejack,” she said, with closed eyes and a hoof on her heart as if reciting. “Ah work a small farm in Ponyville, where we buck-”
“Pony-Ville. You… you’re Equestrians, yeah?” He pushed himself with delicate care into a sitting position, one eye on Dash still looming over him.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, mah bad, not really used ta bein’ on the outside lookin’ in! Yer right, it’s-“
“Does this mean I’m near th’ border?” The stallion’s face was beginning to light up, to display the first hint of warmth the ponies had seen.
“Yes indeedy!” chimed Pinkie. “I’d say ten minutes trot, over thataway!” She gestured behind her. “Five if you bounce it. Nopony except me ever tries to bounce it.”
The stallion let out a gasp of relief. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I knew t’was somewhere in, in, whuh.” He stared around at Pinkie and her friends. “What are you doing out here?”
Twilight shook her head. “Can’t say. But we’re heading to the old train station. Is it nearby?”
“What?!” he gasped in shock this time. “Don’t go there, yeah? Nopony goes there. It’s, it’s, haunted.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“Oh but s’not important,” the stallion said, waving a dismissive hoof. “We can’t stay here. We have t’leave before more come, yeah?”
“More what?”
“Ponies, whassit gonna be?” He blinked up at Twilight. “There’ll be loads. Fightin’ over each other t’get inta Equestria soon enough. Let’s go before th’ border gets swamped.”
Twilight looked up, from pony to pony. They seemed just as lost as she was. It provided minimal reassurance.
The stallion’s expression faltered as he followed Twilight’s gaze.
“You… you don’t know, do ya?” he said, frowning. “The news can’t be travellin’ any faster thanna pony can.” He flicked at a tuft of grass. “Means s’probably true.”
“Spit it out, will ya?” said Applejack.
“Wait wait listen listen,” said the stallion in a sudden panic. “We’re not all th’ same out here! It was them ‘Ree-Surgent’ ponies, everypony I’ve seen since said so!”
“Enough!” said Rainbow Dash, her patience stretched likewise.
“Okay, okay!” said the pony, wincing at the mare that had so effortlessly disabled him just a few moments earlier. “I dunno really how to tell ya all this – Th’ Equestrians and the Lodestari were allies, weren’tcha…”
Twilight’s blood iced in her veins. The stallion looked around in deep discomfort.
“Whatever the ‘Ree-Surgent’ ponies were doing… the… the weapon they were makin’… they just used it.”
He bowed his head.
“They wiped th’ entire Lodestar Republic from the surface of th’ Outlands. It’s gone.”
By Royal Appointment of Their Royal Highnesses Princess Celestia and Princess Luna – Outland Border Garrison Port Sanctuary
+++ EQUESTRIAN EYES ONLY +++ THIS DOCUMENT IS NOT TO BE DUPLICATED +++
Interrogation Log #2493 – Sixth Day of the Second Week of the Third Quarter of the Third Year
Subject:Pegasus Stallion
Name:Identifies as “Razor Leaf”. No birth certificate available
Build:Average
Appearance:Bottle-green hide, grey mane
Cutie Mark:Three leaves blowing in wind
Distinguishing Features:None
Log Summary:
Subject was apprehended flying towards the wall of Sanctuary at roughly 18:31 local time. After failing to heed the regulation verbal warnings, he was disabled by use of a standard limb paralysis spell and brought to the ground via means of levitation. Four pegasus guards (led by Sergeant Swiftwind) apprehended and searched him for the full complement of prohibited arms (See Standard Operating Procedures Ref. SOP-00012-PA) before applying the appropriate restraining measures for a pony of this type. He was then brought inside Interrogation Shack #3 for questioning.
Subject initially proved unresponsive and reticent, giving only his name. He verbalized a request for a cigarette, which was denied. He then verbalized a request for an alcoholic beverage of any description (see attached transcript, line 7 – “Well then at least give me something to fucking drink! Whiskey, cider, I don’t fucking care s’long as it’s booze!”), which was denied.
Several attempts were made to engage Subject along the lines of a standard interview. This was impeded by Subject’s insistence on guarantees of safety for himself, prior to any form of dialogue. He was unmoved by promises of fair treatment by the Equestrian Government, contending that this would do him little good were he to be extradited to the Lodestar Republic (Scribe’s note – Their Highnesses’ Government does indeed have an extradition treaty with the Lodestar Republic, however, in practice the Council of Lodestar has rarely shown any such interest in Outland refugees).
In the absence of any information pertaining to offences committed by Subject against our allies, it was not possible to provide any assurances in this regard. This was communicated to Subject, along with the options resultant: Either Subject would remain at Sanctuary until such a time the Lodestar Republic asserted or relinquished any claim (a process that has been known to take many months), or Subject could be escorted back beyond the wall of Sanctuary and re-released into the Outland territories.
Subject proceeded to become increasingly agitated at the prospect of repatriation. It was another several minutes before he had calmed sufficiently for the interrogation to proceed, and had ceased insisting that “(he) didn’t do ‘it’”.
Further inquiries were made regarding the source of this agitation. Subject eventually relented, asserting that he had “nothing to lose”. He testified to the effect that the Lodestar Republic had fallen. He insisted that any pony not already well-embedded with the darker elements of the Outlands would be making their way to Sanctuary. Their goal would be to escape the imminent unrest caused by surviving Outland factions vying for an elevated position in the current power vacuum.
When pressed for details, Subject claimed to have witnessed the destruction of the Lodestar Republic first-hoof (Scribe’s note – a spell capable of destroying a city is unheard of, and would be quite preposterously dangerous to develop. The reliability of this eyewitness account must be called into question). Interrogator Syphon responded with skepticism to this information. Subject implored Interrogator Syphon to confirm the account with the other ponies that he alleged would be arriving soon, if not already. (Scribe’s note – This interview did indeed coincide with a record-breaking evening for refugee influx into Sanctuary).
Interrogator Syphon considered the matter significant enough to postpone the interrogation. He departed to confirm Subject’s account with other interrogators, citing the importance of the current diplomatic liaison mission (see Ref. DIP-00272-OUT: “Statement of Diplomatic Mandate for Outland Intelligence Exchange (T.S./M.P.)”).
Scribe’s note – Log ends here. Interrogator Syphon proceeded to establish that a mother-and-foal refugee pair taken in shortly after Subject is able to corroborate his story in the most essential components. Interrogator Syphon has left with the transcript to locate the ranking officer on site – Commander Bulwark. The ramifications are too great for dissemination of this information to be deferred.
I do solemnly swear by the Grace of Their Royal Highnesses Princess Celestia and Princess Luna that the contents of this document are both accurate and true, and that by my Oath they represent (in conjunction with any referenced supporting documents) a complete record of the interrogation hereby performed.
May They watch over us all.
* * *
How could this have happened.
Twilight and her friends trudged through the ink-saturated forest. Crisp night air breezed through the trees. Only rustling broke the silence aside from heavy hoof falls and, in stark contrast to the prevailing mood, Pinkie’s cheery bouncing. Dash still led from the front, and her full concentration was on the foliage ahead of them, listening, looking. Twice now, she had made them stop whilst she flew up to look above the tree canopy. A pegasus’ innate sense of direction was difficult to match outside of a unicorn spell, but it was best utilised from the air. It was easy to tell they were heading the right way, as it turned out – the large building with the bright arched roof, ahead of them in the distance, was a difficult light source to miss.
It wasn’t that which advertised its presence with light that concerned Twilight the most.
“We are doing the right thing, aren’t we?”
“’Course we are, Twiligh’,” Applejack said with a grim expression, her eyes remaining focused on the grass. “Ah’m not sayin’ Ah’m right comfortable bein’ out here now, but if it were me, Ah’d want ta know.”
The agitated Outlander stallion had not waited around for long. He had appealed to them to follow him to Sanctuary, to escape the Outlands before the inevitable migration of refugees from the anarchic Outlands proper – not to mention any survivors from the Lodestar Republic. Twilight’s gut twisted just thinking about it. They had lived behind an encapsulating wall; to venture outside would have been to expose themselves to thieves and murderers. The stallion’s information was barely-remembered hearsay, but the word was of a pulse of an incredible, scorching light that engulfed the entire city, leaving little more than blackened earth. Nopony within could have survived. There may not be more than a hoof-ful of Lodestari left alive.
And all of them, fleeing the ascendant power of the faction of criminals the six friends had barely heard of until an hour ago. The Resurgent. Were they hoping to assume control of the entire Outlands? Would Equestria be next?
They had debated turning back. If the Lodestar Republic was no more, then what of their mission? Surely the most important thing right now was to warn the ponies of Equestria about this terrible new weapon?
Dash had argued in favour of pressing on. Twilight, to her shame, hadn’t been able to help smiling a little; when the possibility of not meeting up with the Special Operations ponies was mooted, the pegasus’ expression resembled a puppy-dog look Twilight had only ever seen a certain pink pony demonstrate. That’s not to say Dash’s argument wasn’t sound – they still had a mission to complete, and there would be plenty of ponies arriving at Sanctuary to bring the news to Equestria soon enough. These Lodestar ponies were likely to have been outside of the blast radius at the time, and sharing information about the Resurgent threat was now only more critical, not less. ‘Bulwark would want us to do our duty, like he does!’ ran the argument, and Twilight found it hard to disagree. It was clear the stallion had already sacrificed much in the name of duty. Applejack and Rarity had been less sure. Circumstances had most definitely changed, and they were in above their heads as it was.
But there was a second argument that nopony could disagree with. Lodestar had gone, and with it, these ponies’ only home. Isolated inside a ‘haunted’ train station that normal Outlanders appeared to eschew, they may not even have heard the news.
They deserved to know.
And it was only right for the six friends, as ambassadors of Equestria, to bring them an offer to resettle back in Equestria with them. Whilst their antsy stallion friend had major concerns about Lodestari revenge attacks, Twilight felt the massed criminals of the Outlands were a far bigger threat in the other direction. She was not about to let these ponies lose everything and then be killed out here to boot. Not if she could help it.
So they moved on through the whispering trees, grateful for the extra scarves Rarity had packed for them all, moving ever-closer to their destination.
“I know, Applejack. I just… want to go home,” Twilight mumbled. The news of the death of a city, an entire nation, had brought into sharp focus how much she took her own home for granted. Mere days had passed since they left Ponyville, and Twilight was homesick like never before. She thought of Spike, no doubt fast asleep. Safe. Alive. She forced herself away from that train of thought.
Applejack responded to Twilight with a nod, but kept her silence. Dash pushed a branch aside to let them all pass, and then quickly trotted to the front of the group once more.
Best to let Fluttershy and Rarity talk to them, Twilight was thinking. They didn’t exactly have a trained counsellor in the group, but a pony would be hard pressed to find a kinder pair of shoulders to lean on. Fluttershy would need a little time to come out of her shell, but Rarity ought to be able to—
Twilight blinked and looked to her left. Pinkie had bounced her way alongside, and was continuing to spring skywards in a manner that kept perfect pace with the unicorn. That would have been distracting enough without the tuneless humming.
“Pinkie? How are you feeling?”
“Oooh, fine! Just fine! N-never b-better...”
“Pinkie...”
Pinkie’s smile collapsed, like the extinguishing of a sole flame in darkness. “No time to be sad!” she blurted. “They’re gonna be plenty sad enough for all of us with losing their home and their friends and everything!” She sniffed.
The wavering of Pinkie’s façade discomfited Twilight more than she thought possible. “I know, it’s really awful,” she managed in response. She couldn’t imagine it happening to Canterlot… or Ponyville. And there she was, thinking those thoughts again. Ugh!
“We’ve gotta be their friends!” Pinkie insisted. “You’ll see, I’m gonna give them an extra special Pinkie pony welcome! I’ll be there to be their friend and cheer them up and everything!” she said, nodding with vigorous, solemn conviction. Then she took a deep breath, and beamed again as only Pinkie could. Once more, she resumed her merry hopping. “Oooh, I did have something to tell you actually! Do you think they’ll like peanut butter? Or mayonnaise? How about peanut butter on mayonnaise on rye bread? I didn’t ask what they’d eat and I know that makes me a silly filly but how can you have a good time if you’re having a yucky food time?” She tilted her head at Twilight, continuing to disappear in and out of the top of her vision in rhythm.
“Pinkie… I have no idea. I’m sure they’ll love your party food,” Twilight sighed. She loved Pinkie, but she was a little stressed right now, and not in the mood for antics. “Was that all?”
“Yup! Yes indeedy!” She began to bounce away, grinning, and then bounced back without even turning around. “No! Oh no! I forgot one! There’s something else!”
“Yes?” Twilight grimaced.
“We’re being watched!” Pinkie beamed.
Twilight’s expression calcified on her face, even as her pupils dilated. “Wh-what?” she whispered. “How do you kn—who? Where?”
“Don’t know who! But they’re over there!” Pinkie said, pointing directly upwards, nodding her head as though trying to dislodge a piece of gum. Twilight followed the line of her foreleg, all the way up to the impenetrable thicket of leaves and branches.
“Pinkie… those are trees.”
“Trees can’t see, silly! Ooh. But maybe that shrub can!” Pinkie halted, and pointed directly ahead of them at a small tangle of overgrown plants. They had entered a cramped clearing, although it provided respite only from the tree trunks – above them, the network of branching foliage still obscured the sky. “It’s watching us too!”
If the conversation had been difficult to ignore before, there was no chance now. Twilight and Pinkie found their other friends halted and gathered nearby, looking concerned at best. Now, they all turned to face the collection of shrubs at the opposite end of the clearing. Twilight was suddenly reminded of the stallion hiding under a similar mess of plant life.
Rainbow Dash gave her friends another strong look of warning, and crept forward once more. Twilight shivered with the tension, her teeth making indentations in her lip. Dash was only a few hooves’ away now, her eyes darting across the mass, her brow furrowed as she struggled to make out any hint of a hiding pony, and now she was drawing herself back, Twilight realised she was about to charge—
It happened in an instant.
With no warning, the silence was ripped open with a tingling burst of golden magic that seized Dash by the tail, yanking upwards and flipping her upside-down, hanging her in the air in front of the unicorn who was suddenly standing in plain view in front of everypony, horn aglow.
He gave a wry smile. “You would do well never to charge like that into an unknown situation.”
“For the love of Celestia!” Rainbow Dash blurted, her cheeks tinged with pink as she flailed her forehooves, swinging from side to side. “What is it with unicorns and grabbing me by the tail?!”
Everypony else was staring at the dark blue unicorn. His eyes moved across all of them in turn, and if he heard Dash’s outburst, he paid it no heed. Oh Celestia, thought Twilight. Was this another assassin? Was the invisibility how they managed to slip through past the guards of Lodestar? The port of Sanctuary? Her heartbeat intensified as she caught sight of a pegasus emerging from the treeline. His expression was dour, and he glared at them in hostile silence.
“Which of you is Twilight Sparkle?” said the unicorn.
Adrenaline rocketed through Twilight’s body. It was an assassin! He’d come to kill her, and brought back-up this time to finish the job!
Rainbow Dash was evidently thinking along the same lines. “Pah! As if we’d tell you!” She bared her teeth at the unicorn in spite of her current predicament. “You’re never getting your hooves on Twilight, you Resurgent scum!”
The unicorn’s smile vanished in the blink of an eye and he stiffened. His pegasus companion’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open. Then, his face distorted into snarling, livid rage.
“Kill her.”
Fluttershy squeaked, Rarity gasped, and Dash’s face moved quickly from shock to grim concentration as she flapped her wings with all of her strength. In times past it had taken the magical power of Twilight Sparkle herself to combat the flying force of Equestria’s fastest pegasus, and the ink-coloured unicorn was no such telekinetic. The magical field guttered and died, and Dash shot away from the unicorn’s grasp, planting herself down ahead of her friends.
“Hold her still damn it, Midnight!” the pegasus choked as he advanced, shaking. “I’ll twist her fucking wings off…”
Dash reared up to defend herself, Applejack leapt forward, body twisted in readiness for a violent buck, and Twilight’s horn was already aglow as she prepared to pin the murderous pony against the ground—
“Sky Dive, stand down.”
The voice cut through the panicked atmosphere, and everypony’s head turned in its direction. The burnt-orange pegasus stopped dead in his tracks. The elusive shrub-camping unicorn was no longer smiling, but there was little doubt as to who had spoken.
“What!? Didn’t…” the pegasus spluttered at his companion, “didn’t you hear, what she—”
“I heard, Sky Dive,” the unicorn replied, his piercing gaze fixed upon Dash. “But I believe she spoke more out of ignorance than targeted malice.”
Twilight flicked her eyes from the fuming pegasus called Sky Dive to the unicorn, her horn still charged and ready to immobilise an attacker in a heartbeat. A pale, ethereal glow danced over everypony, casting long shadows. “We’re no threat to you,” Twilight said in a small voice. “Please, who are you?”
“Ah, you are a unicorn with an inquiring mind, a desire to focus on the matters at hoof. You, are Twilight Sparkle,” the unicorn replied with a smile. “And these are your royalist friends.”
Oh horseapples. Then—
“My name is Midnight Phase, Ms Sparkle. I am the Captain of this Lodestari Special Operations team, and we shall be taking care of your protection during your stay in the Outlands. You are our honoured guests.”
“Ohhh…” Dash groaned as her ears drooped. “Sorry…”
Sky Dive still looked murderous, but Midnight nodded at Dash. “Apology accepted, Equestrian. But please do not say anything like that again.”
Twilight bowed her head a little, and darkness enveloped them as the magic from her horn dissipated in a forlorn puff. “Then you know.”
“About the City?” Midnight’s eyes were bright circles in the darkness. “Yes, Ms Sparkle. Lodestar is… is lost to us.”
“I’m so sorry,” Twilight replied, her own eyes beginning to glisten.
Midnight bowed his head as well. “Thank you, Ms Sparkle. But there will be ample time to grieve at the conclusion of our mission.”
“Your mish—wait, why are you here?” Twilight asked. Her panic had subsided, and now the entire reason for her presence in this frigid forest re-asserted itself. “I thought we were meeting you at the train station.”
“The train station has been compromised, Ms Sparkle,” Midnight replied. “You would have been walking into a trap. Without sufficient time to clear the ponies infesting it, I ordered my team here to meet you before that happened. Specs has been tracking your progress and was able to direct us right into your path.”
Specs? “There are more of you?” Twilight asked, flicking her eyes around the blue-black trees.
“Correct, Ms Sparkle. Now that we know who you ponies are, they can be stood down.” He looked behind himself to the treeline, and beckoned forth companions that apparently only he could see. Then he turned back. “Please bear with me for a moment. Rest assured you are in no danger, now that we are here. But before we can introduce ourselves as your custodians, we must ensure we won’t be disturbed.”
Twilight felt a prickle of unease. She’d been expecting professionals, yes, but there was something distasteful about being secretly shadowed like this. Without Pinkie’s uncanny abilities, they would easily have been ambushed.
“Oh, meeting your companions would be delightful,” Rarity smiled at the unicorn, even as Dash kept her uneasy silence. “Meeting new ponies is such a thrill. I hope we’ll have the opportunity to introduce ourselves in kind!”
Midnight seemed amused by that. “Of course – should further introductions prove necessary.” He turned back towards the forest, from which ponies were starting to emerge, weighed down by a whole host of rucksacks and equipment. “Tell Specs to report on anything headed our way, please. And make sure she knows I want the short version.”
Still in shadow, one of the ponies nodded. Then there was a blossom of pink hornlight, and a young-looking unicorn mare was revealed just ahead of the trees. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be muttering to herself.
Midnight brought a hoof to his muzzle, and cleared his throat. “A Lodestari Special Operations team is a diverse animal,” he began. “Each pony is hoof-selected for their unique talents, the better to aid the success of any mission, and the eventualities that arise.” He raised his eyebrows. “Tonight, we are making excellent use of our intelligence-gathering and communications skillsets.”
“C-Captain Midnight, sir?”
Midnight frowned and turned. “Yes, we have foreign guests. No, you still don’t need to call me that.”
“Oh, um, sorry! Midnight! Specs says we should be okay here, but there are some nearby groups she wants to keep an eye on for a bit longer, just in case! She, um, suggests we ‘pay particular attention to giving a detailed summary of who we are’? ‘pparently the Royalists’d be more comfortable with that?”
“Well, she’d know,” Midnight replied. “She can keep watch for now.” He looked back at Twilight and her friends, and smiled. “I suppose I get leader’s privilege of going first. You already know my name is Midnight Phase.” His horn glowed for a split-second, and then, along with the rest of him, suddenly disappeared from view. “My talents lie in the realm of deception and stealth,” said his disembodied voice. “Although, as you saw earlier,” Midnight continued, popping back into corporality once more, “I must focus my magic entirely on you if I am to succeed in tricking your visual senses.”
The six friends looked to one another. So his magic was not about hiding himself so much as active interference inside the heads of other ponies. Twilight wasn’t getting any less creeped out.
“As for the rest of my team...” Midnight backed off to one side, sweeping a hoof across Sky Dive and the new arrivals.
Twilight looked to the three ponies that had appeared behind their mind-manipulating leader, and relaxed a little when she saw that, unlike the psychotic pegasus, they were smiling. The light-coloured unicorn mare with the pink magic was waving at them. To the right of her, an earth pony stallion was looking at them all with raised eyebrows, moustache not quite obscuring his open, unthreatening expression, and on his left, a grinning earth pony mare with some kind of light-dark colour mix in her mane – impossible to tell fully in this light. She looked as though she was being thoroughly entertained by a joke only she was privy to.
“Well, Sky Dive? Are you going to tell these Equestrians who you are and what you do?” Midnight prompted.
The pegasus’ mouth was a thin line. His upper lip spasmed a few times, before he finally swallowed, gave a violent twitch of his head and responded. “Sky Dive,” he growled. “Close combat. Assault.”
There was a long silence as the ponies waited for the rest. When it was clear none was forthcoming, Midnight cleared his throat. “Alright. Our newest member?”
The unicorn mare smiled more widely. “Hi! I’m Sine Wave, and I do long-range communications and cryptography! Oh… should I have told them that?” she said to Midnight as her expression fell. Her captain just let out an amused snort. “Um… I can also do first aid!” she soldiered on, “just… don’t expect miracles. I can put a bandage on something fierce! That’s about it. So… yeah. S’me.” She tried to smile again, but it was somewhat addled. “Need a healing draught, well,” she blurted, “best ask Peptide. I can’t make em. Well, I could make you drink ‘em, but really, if you can’t do that yourself, you’re beyond my help anyway. Um…” she looked over at Midnight again, eyes bulging.
“O-okay,” the stallion said with a chuckle. “Peptide, you’d better go next.”
“Right ye are, Midnight!” said the moustachioed earth pony. “As has already been indicated to you lasses, my name is Peptide. My specialisation takes the form of all things chemical. I can identify most Outland poisons you’ll likely encounter, and can mix up most of them as well as fair trade of antidotes for them. Oh, and as a wee side project, I can forage too – not just for plants bearing deadly poisons, but also ingredients for me to prepare food—”
“Yeah, and good luck telling the difference between ‘em when he hoofs them to ya!” burst the grinning earth pony mare.
Peptide stopped short, rolled his eyes and let out a deep, groaning sigh. “Every time, Brazer. I don’t rightly know who I detest more – you for doing that, or me for falling into it every Powers-damned time.”
The concrete-coloured mare chuckled. “You stop throwing ‘em, I’ll stop hitting ‘em.”
Peptide huffed. “Alright lassie, your turn.”
“Thought ya’d never ask,” she smirked back, and then turned to Twilight and her friends. “My warmest greetings to ya, pilgrims from the royalist utopia of Equestria! I stand in awe at your very presence in our humble, backward land! I’m Brazen Flame, the most talented earth pony mare on the entire damn team, although apparently that name’s too much of a muzzleful for my esteemed compatriots who prefer the far catchier ‘Brazer’. Oh, while I think about it, we also call Sky Dive ‘Skyder’ sometimes, but I wouldn’t worry about that too much since he seems to be pretty intent on murdering ya.”
Sky Dive didn’t react. Twilight, on the other hoof, was stunned, and her face arranged itself to match. She stared at Brazen Flame, trying to place her hoof on what was bugging her about the mare. She’d seen plenty of zany from Pinkie, but here there was… something different. Hadn’t this mare just lost her entire home?
“Oh, and I nearly forgot to tell ya about what I do! Sorry Midnight, I won’t disobey ya again – don’t take my chocolate rations, please!”
Midnight tilted his head, a resigned look on his face, but a gasp pierced the air.
“He wouldn’t dare!”
Everypony’s head swivelled in Pinkie’s direction, and the party pony herself was glaring at Midnight with an indignant pout.
Brazen snorted into a chuckle. “Oh wow, she actually thinks I’m serious, doesn’t she. For the love of the Powers, don’t tell her the last time we actually had that stuff…”
“Huh, but,” Pinkie began, forehead crinkled, “didn’t she just say, and, didn’t—“
An orange hoof found its way onto her mouth as Applejack stroked her gently on the mane. “Not now, sugarcube,” she whispered.
“Good call!” Brazen smirked. “I didn’t think to pack my ballgag for this mission.” She patted her saddlebags – like the ponies standing next to her, she was carrying a tightly-packed set of goods, in saddlebags either side, and a rucksack on top with a pair of rolled, tied mattresses crowning it. “I’m the mare ya call on if ya’ve got a problem,” she said. “Well, a specific kind of problem, really. Say ya think somepony’s home is over-furnished with one too many dimensions. Say ya think somepony’s personality would be greatly improved for them being scattered over a wide radius.” She nodded with gleeful enthusiasm. “Yup, for detonations and all things pyrotechnical, I’m ya mare! If it can explode, just say the word! If it can’t explode – well, I like a challenge!” she grinned. “Put it this way: Whenever I’m involved in something, it’s the most spectacular damn light show you ever saw!”
“Thank you, Brazer,” Midnight deadpanned. “As you can all see, she scored top marks on job enthusiasm during her ‘interview’. Now, Sine Wave,” he began as Brazen nodded with vigour, grin still in place, “if you would do the honours again…”
“Yessir!” said the unicorn as she closed her eyes and ignited her horn. A second later, the magic winked out, and she blinked an eye open. “Oh. I think it fell out…”
Midnight sighed and trotted over, although his expression suggested he was fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curving upwards. A whisper carried across on the air.
“Pity you didn’t score so highly on personality and oral hygiene, eh lass?”
Brazen made what was clearly supposed to be an obscene gesture at Peptide, but none of the ‘royalists’ recognised it.
“Just there, by the treeline,” Midnight was saying, horn shining a tight cone of light down amongst the plants. Sine Wave scampered towards the highlighted area, and when she turned back, her horn was glowing almost as much as her cheeks.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said as a small object floated into her ear and nestled there. “Stupid thing never stays in properly for me. Uhm… better me than Specs though, right?” she said with an awkward smile.
“Just bring her down,” Midnight sighed with a shake of his head.
“Y-yes sir,” Sine Wave replied. The light from her horn was mimicked by the glow from item in her ear, together revealing that the pink had almost faded from her butter-yellow cheeks. “Specs? …Y-yeah, it’s them alri—huh? …Oh. Are they—? …Okay, so you should be good to join us for a bit? …Yeah, Midnight’s orders. I can pass you over to him if you—…okay. See you in a sec!”
Horn and earpiece both winked out, and Sine Wave gave Midnight a nod. He turned and moved alongside her, leaving a gap between the line of six friends and the line of five Lodestari.
The silence lingered just long enough for Twilight to open her mouth, before a rustling, crashing sound from above stole her attention. She gasped as a pony plummeted through the tree cover towards the ground in a flurry of leaves. An eyeblink from impact, its wings shot out, arresting its dive near enough to the ground that the grass kissed its hooves as it hovered. Then, it settled to the floor, and looked up.
The six ponies recoiled. A Fluttershy squeak rang out.
The pegasus mare brought a hoof to her face, and tugged the dead-eyed goggles up to her forehead, revealing a much less intimidating pair of green eyes. Her fur was white, a perfect contrast to the thin black material that covered most of the rest of her body.
“Element Bearers,” she said, her eyes moving with robotic precision between Twilight and her friends. “Never visited the Outlands before; you would have moved a lot faster than that. The pegasus did well. Kept her wits about her and the rest of you suitably behind. Independent, self-styled protector. Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, as if the mane and cutie mark didn’t give it away,” she nodded at Dash, whose wings unconsciously moved to cover said cutie marks. “The other pegasus hiding behind the white one must be Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness,” Specs continued. “Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic,” she said, looking at Twilight. “First to ignite a horn, first to engage with Midnight. De facto leader. Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter – no explanation required. Please be warned that your gait leaves tracks that would be absurdly easy to follow.”
Pinkie giggled. “Thanks for the tip! I, uh, probably should cut down on the corn cakes!”
Specs’ gaze lingered on Pinkie for just a second, and then moved on to Applejack.
“Three apples for a cutie mark? You must be Applejack. Strange how that works, is it not? Element of Honesty, if I recall. Which leaves—”
“Rarity,” said Rarity even as Specs said likewise. “The Element of Generosity, as I’m sure I don’t need to tell you. Why, how in Equestria do you know so much about us?”
“I knew the name of the pony we would be meeting, Ms Rarity,” said Specs as she nodded in Twilight’s direction. “Your deeds, whilst played down by your Royal family, are still recorded and available for study. The conclusion that Ms Sparkle would be constrained into bringing her best friends with her to minimise Outland royalist interference was as clear to me as it was to your Princess. The rest is research and observation.”
Rarity let out her breath. Relief at the relatively mundane explanation tempered by slight disappointment that the social introduction was not going quite according to plan. “And you are ‘Specs’, is that right?”
“My name is Full Spectrum, Ms Rarity. The easy shortform, the goggles I often wear, and a hysterical pun on “Special Forces” all lend themselves to the nickname.”
The tone was one devoid of emotion – the mare could have been reading an assembly manual for a pine table.
“Thank you, Specs,” said Midnight. “I don’t wish to cut you short, but night is drawing in, and there is a decision to be made.”
Full Spectrum stepped back without a word, but did not take her eyes off Twilight and her friends.
“I do not need to tell you the situation has changed,” Midnight said. “Until we hear otherwise, we six must assume we are completely on our own.”
Twilight’s heart tore as she looked between the displaced Outland ponies. “W-we were going to o-offer… I mean, we can’t promise, but I can’t see Princess Celestia saying no… if you want to, you know, come back with us—”
Midnight shook his head. “The Resurgent must be stopped, Ms Sparkle. Their leader now thinks nothing of mass-murder. Genocide. Who can say who he will attack next, and how soon?”
Familiar butterflies un-cocooned themselves inside Twilight’s stomach. “W-we can ask the Princess,” she faltered. “We can get help. Equestrian guards to force these ponies to surrender.”
Midnight looked at Twilight again with those bright, solemn eyes. “That would not end well, Ms Sparkle,” he replied as Full Spectrum nodded. “At present, the criminal elements of the Outlands are scattered. Disparate. If one thing could unite them, it would be a royalist presence. It would be a full-scale war. The casualties on both sides—”
“Okay, okay,” Twilight grimaced as images of a beleaguered Shining Armor swam in front of her. “What do you suggest?”
“The Resurgent wanted you eliminated, Ms Sparkle. They failed. There is something they fear about you.” Midnight breathed deeply. “You may be the last chance we have of stopping them.”
Twilight’s eyes went wide. “You’re asking me to come with you,” she whispered.
“Ms Sparkle, you are a representative of Her Highness’ Equestrian Government. Our orders are clear,” Midnight said with a sidelong glance at Sky Dive, who looked away.
“I don’t understand,” said Twilight. She fought the sudden, wild urge to run.
“We submit to your authority,” Midnight said.
Twilight just blinked.
“I don’t ask you to come with us,” Midnight began. Then he continued, in measured tones: “I propose that the Resurgent need to be stopped, that an all-out attack on the Outlands by your Government is not practicable, that you are somehow the key to our mutual enemies’ defeat, and that, as experienced Outland operatives familiar with infiltration deep inside hostile territory, it would be in your best interests to order us to escort you. Ma’am.”
Twilight mouthed wordlessly. Of all the things…
“Twiligh’ is not leavin’ our sight,” drawled Applejack.
“Then, by all means, remain at her side,” Midnight replied. “We would not refuse the help. But we must all move quickly, before the Resurgent can consolidate their gains.”
Whether or not she imagined the stallion hesitating on that final word, Twilight felt another pang. She looked helplessly around at her companions. How could she turn these ponies down? But how could she venture deep inside a hostile land with ponies she didn’t even know?
What would her brother say?
“I… um…” Twilight managed, as her eyes bulged at her friends. “D-does anypony have an opinion on this?”
“I’m sticking with you whatever,” Dash said immediately. The others nodded.
Twilight swallowed, and looked into Midnight’s patient, golden eyes. “Th-then…”
She thought of Bulwark.
Do not trust these ponies.
“…then…”
She thought of Ponyville. Of Canterlot. Her parents. Her brother. Spike. Her friends’ families. Obliterated.
“…then I – we – will help.” Twilight was almost trembling with emotion.
Midnight smiled. “Thank you, Ma’am. In that case, I suggest we make camp here for the night. I think we could all use a rest.”
“That’s fine, Ms Sparkle,” said Midnight. “We have gear sufficient for you and your friends. We will cool our own hooves beneath the stars.”
“No, really, Sparkler!” said Brazen Flame as Twilight hesitated. “S’fine, our glorious leader often stops us using the tents if they’re gonna give us away. Or he thinks we need more fresh air. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Well, actually, I do, but ya just write abusive things on Midnight’s employee satisfaction surveys. It’s all good.”
“Well then,” Rarity interjected at Midnight. “Please allow us to return some of your gracious hospitality. We come bearing a selection of Equestrian delicacies that you will simply adore! I’m sure you must all be hungry. And,” she beamed around, warming to the theme, “what say we all eat in pairs so that we can get to know one another even better!”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” replied Midnight as Brazen whispered “Fooood!” Peptide swiped at her mane.
“If you’d like to organise that, Equestrians, we shall get your tents set up.” Midnight turned to his team and began levitating Sine Wave’s burden from her back.
Twilight turned towards her own friends. Her expression was one of shame. Anxiety. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Rarity put a hoof around her. “Not a word, my dear. You made the right decision.”
“I didn’t mean to drag you all alo—” Twilight began, before finding herself caught in a helpless group hug.
“Y’all need some food!” Applejack grinned. “Come on, Pinkie, let’s get this show on the road!”
“Food and hugs? This is the best vacation ever!” Pinkie squeed. She sprung into the air and flipped, dislodging her saddlebags onto the grass, then landed atop them. Applejack chuckled and trotted the other way, removing her huge saddlebags in the more traditional fashion.
Twilight’s remaining group-huggers released their captive. She smiled as she looked at each one of them.
She may have been a long way from Ponyville, but she wasn’t really far from home.
* * *
“Soooo what are you having?” Pinkie’s muzzle was buried inside one of her saddlebags, and she continued to address its interior even as she pulled container after container from its depths. A teetering tower of treats grew ever taller. “There’re cream cakes and fairy cakes and cupcakes and mint cakes and sponge cakes and coconut cakes and—”
Full Spectrum held up a hoof. “No cakes, thank you. Do you have anything a little plainer? Some fruit?”
Pinkie’s cake-stacking foreleg ground to a halt. Her head retracted from the bag and fixed Full Spectrum with a look, one that an ordinary pony might reserve for somepony that just confessed to escaping an asylum. Then, she beamed, as warm as ever. “Nooooo problem! A Pinkie Party caters for everypony! There’s some fruit in the punch!”
Full Spectrum let out an exasperated breath even as Brazen Flame sniggered in the background. “I like this mare already!”
“Never mind,” said the pegasus. “I will see what your friend Ms Applejack is offering. Thank you anyway.”
“Ooh, do, she is a gem!” Pinkie said after Full Spectrum’s retreating form. “Wait – this cake has a cherry on it! See? Coo-ee! Well, don’t blame me if it’s gone when you get back! Ooh, hi Brazey! You like cake, right? Please tell me some of you like cake!” She fell silent for a moment. “I’ve brought a lot of cake…”
“Call me Brazen. Or Brazer if you prefer,” she smirked back. “And don’t worry about her, she’s fussier than a bunny kitten. No taste for the finer things in life. I’d love to avail ya of anything even remotely unhealthy!”
No matter how widely Pinkie smiled, there was always room for more. “Hee! I can’t wait! Help yourself! And then, we can talk about things like, like you! And me! And the other ‘me’s that were there that one time! It’s just one ‘you’, right? Oh, I’ll be friends with all of you, don’t worry! Where ar—?”
“It is just sugar in these things, right?” Brazen chuckled as she examined a container held aloft. “My superiors back home’d kill me if they caught me shoving powder up—oh, never mind.”
Pinkie’s face fell. “Aaww, don’t joke about thaaat…”
Brazen looked back from the container held between her hooves, displaying a more melancholy smile. “If ya can’t laugh, what can ya do. C’mon, let’s go sit down.”
She turned and made for a clear patch of grass.
The Element of Laughter hesitated as she watched the concrete-coloured mare go, top teeth resting on her bottom lip. Her eyes fell closed and her head hung down. She sighed. Then, she flapped her head from side to side, and skipped to follow her new friend, wearing a warm smile once more. Resolved to be the best friend ever to these ponies. Ponies that had never been more in need.
* * *
“…would simply love to show you around my boutique, my dear,” Rarity was saying to the unicorn sitting in front of her. “And I would be delighted to find you something to wear that isn’t that ghastly mishmash of knick-knacks too. I am sorry, but it simply can’t be good for your posture to be ferrying all that around. I could just see you in one of Fluttershy’s dresses, the match would be near-perfect when your fur is so close to her delectable hue. Oh, but I’d create one specially for you of course. If, um, you promise to let me design it, aheheh… I’m sorry, I do go on rather.”
“That’s okay!” Sine Wave beamed back. “Thank you so much for the offer! I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress… we, um, didn’t really go in for them much. In my family.” She sipped at her glass of punch. “V-very traditional. Parents wanted us all to join up, defend our way of life. Never thought I’d make the cut, actually. Sis was much better. At everything. Always dreamed I’d be as good as her one day. Still don’t think I’m good enough. But they liked my earpieces!” she said, eyes sparkling.
“Oh,” Rarity said, her smile becoming fixed. “I saw that before, I think? I can imagine vastly better things to wear to complement your ears, but I can of course appreciate the need for practicality in what you ponies do. Still… dull black, my dear? Was there no better option?”
Sine Wave giggled. “It’s more important for Specs’ ones not to glint and give her away when she’s on station,” she replied. “Anyway, they’re pretty small; you’re not supposed to see them where they’re in, look,” she said, bringing her magic to bear on floating one of the earpieces from a saddlebag. The glass of punch fell and splattered all down her front. “Oh. Fiddlesticks.”
Rarity gaped in shock for the merest fraction of a second before composing herself, affecting a warm smile. “Not to worry, Ms Wave,” she said as she set her drink down and levitated a neatly-folded napkin out of a saddlebag of her own. “Dear oh dear oh dear, did I mention how much you remind me of somepony?”
* * *
“Now thaht, hish de-fughing-lishoush,” Brazen Flame mumbled as she chewed the hunk of cupcake lodged in her open mouth. She swallowed, with some difficulty. “I could get used to this stuff!”
“Aw, you’re so sweet! Hee, sweet!” Pinkie giggled in response. Not to be outdone, she inhaled three cupcakes of her own.
“The fuck do you get out of eating them like that,” Brazen mused. “This stuff, is worth savouring. Useful skill ya have though, when we run out of your stuff and you’re left with what me and Peptide can forage. Ya really want to taste food as little as possible when it tastes like arse.”
“Oooh, you collect food too? Well, of course you know about food, Missy Earthy Pony!” Pinkie chimed back. “But I know that’s not your super-duper main talent!”
“Hah, no,” Brazen replied, patting her flank. “I’m still the mare who makes shit go ‘boom’!”
“Ooh, I can see that,” Pinkie grinned as her eyes moved from Brazen’s blonde-and-scarlet mane to her cutie mark – a yellow ring of curve-spiked fire.
“So did the mares and stallions running Lodestar,” Brazen chuckled. “Got these babies on my flanks the moment they offered me this job. Not bad, as destinies go!”
Pinkie looked confused for a moment. Then she shrugged. “I guess!”
Brazen raised an eyebrow at Pinkie, and then smirked. “Teams like this go back a long way, ya know? We weren’t the first, that’s for Powers-damned sure. Why, there’ve been several titles for us!” She leant in towards Pinkie, as if bestowing a confidence. “Used to be called the City of Lodestar Infiltration Team. And ya can bet nopony was ever able to find us!” She took a grinning bite of cupcake.
“Ooh, ‘cuz you were so deep undercover?” Pinkie beamed back.
Brazen choked on the morsel of cake she had been chewing, flailing her hooves. A few thumps on the back from Pinkie restored her airway’s status quo. “N-not when I’m eating, dammit!” she spluttered, blinking tears of suppressed laughter from her eyes.
“Aw, sorry. I’ll be quiet whenever you’re eating from now on! Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”
Brazen snorted and shook her head. “N-nah, if ya d-don’t mind. These are too good to waste.”
“Thank you! Wouldn’t be a party pony if I couldn’t bake cakes!” Pinkie trilled.
“Hah, yeah. You’ll see what I can do soon enough! Actually…” she said, her eyes moving to her saddlebags. “I could probably show—getting hold of some water should be easy enough,” she muttered. “This is a fun little party trick that I know a pony like you’d appreciate…”
* * *
“…need to be shy, lassie. I don’t make a habit out of biting.”
“Um, no, I mean yes, I-I… I’m a little tired, you see…” Fluttershy said. Even as she spoke, a yawn forced its way out of her. “S-see?” she smiled as best she could.
“Ah,” Peptide replied. “Well, I think we all are, Ms Fluttershy. My companions and I have been moving towards the border at speed for a couple of days now.”
“O-oh. D-did you even get a chance to, you know, s-sleep?”
“A little kip here and there,” Peptide responded. “As for you though, I reckon it’s a good thing you find yourselves a wee tired. Midnight’ll want you on the same clock as us – that is, sleeping during the day, on the move at night. It’s the best way to stay hidden.
“N-night?” Fluttershy squeaked as her eyes darted between the trees. “I d-don’t really like d-dark forests at night…”
“Don’t get unduly concerned, Ms Fluttershy. As long as you don’t go around eatin’ up things at random, the forests themselves are harmless. Teeming with interesting plant life, to be sure, but harmless.”
Peptide frowned. “That’s no euphemism, Ms Fluttershy. All I mean is that there’s allsorts with useful properties. Both edible and inedible flowers, mind-altering plants, herbs you can use in various concoctions… hell,” he patted his saddlebags, “see these vines knotted around? They grow all over the Outland forests. Exceptionally strong. Bet you even Skyder couldn’t break ‘em.”
“Oh. That is interesting, Mr Peptide…”
“Hah! That’s nothing. You should see the sorts of things I can mix up when given half a chance,” Peptide chuckled. “Sine Wave mentioned healing draughts – well, with the right ingredients, you can brew something to heal most any injury! And then there’s the shoe for the other hoof – poisons! Truly potent ones, at that. Why, for some of them, less than a drop can kill a squirrel stone dead in seconds…”
Peptide trailed off as he noticed Fluttershy’s expression: gaping at him, transfixed, mouth locked in a kind of silent scream.
His expression faltered, and his eyes wandered to her cutie mark. Butterflies. Animal lover.
Peptide grimaced. Well, this was a little awkward. No, make that really, really…
* * *
…awkward, Rainbow Dash was thinking. Like, seriously awkward.
She was sitting on the cooling grass, pushing sad little morsels of food around on the paper plate. She knew she ought to be hungry, but the sickly feeling twisting in her stomach left no room for any such cravings.
Darn it, Rarity! You and your stupid pony pairs!
She flicked her eyes to the right, and back.
Sky Dive was still there. He focused completely on his meal, eating in frozen silence. There was no way he could not have known Dash was there, but he was doing a fantastic job of acting like it.
Dash let out a noiseless sigh. Of all the ponies to be left, why him? Even she knew he’d need more of a cooling off period before she could start to convince him that she really was an awesome pony. All her friends were happily chatting away, yet she had no idea what to say or do.
Actually, scratch that, she thought, looking up at the green pony leaning down towards Fluttershy. He looked like a fish out of water as he muttered things in an attempted reassuring tone, and she, well, was curled up into a ball and rocking back and forth, a petrified expression on her face.
At least there was some talking going on.
For the love of Celestia, she wasn’t accepting this! She was Rainbow Dash, and she’d never failed to win a pony over yet!
She brought a hoof to her mouth, and cleared her throat.
The stocky pegasus chewed his latest mouthful mechanically, and swallowed. “Mm.”
Okay. That’s a start.
“So I’m gonna talk about myself for a bit. Er, you can say something whenever.” Silence. “Yeah, okay, well, I’m Rainbow Dash,” she repeated. “I like flying. Speed. Er, good friends? Awesome food! This stuff is awesome, huh? Oh, and napping.”
No response.
“Oh come on, you gotta like flying, right? You’re a pegasus!” Dash said, exasperation creeping into her voice.
“You noticed.”
“Yeah, I did,” Dash responded, somewhat taken aback at actually receiving a response. “You’d be the second pegasus I ever met that didn’t like to fly.” She frowned, displaying difficulty with the concept. “Well, I love it! The faster, the better! ‘n fact, I got my cutie mark for flying faster and better than anypony has for years, right in front of a whole buncha other ponies!”
Sky Dive blinked a couple of times in response to that. “S-so. A cutie mark in showing off.”
“Huh? Well, I was helping a friend at the time too, see. A little, I guess? But I kinda earned it, ya know? They said the Sonic Rainboom was only an old mare’s tale, until I showed it was possible!”
For the first time, Sky Dive’s head swivelled to look at Dash. The low light made it difficult to comprehend his expression, but his eyes were wide in the darkness, and it looked almost like disbelief mixed with… fear?
Then his face contorted. “You fucking liar.”
“W-what? No, I really can do a Sonic Rainboom! I could show you right now if you—”
Sky Dive let out a bark of cold, mirthless laughter. “And give away our position? How stupid are you? You’re not in Equestria any more. Pegasus.”
“I… that’s not what I…” Dash stuttered, at a loss as to how the conversation was deteriorating so rapidly. “I just wanted to, to…” she closed her eyes, grinding her teeth in frustration. Conversational dead end. “Well, what about your talents,” she tried. “You wanna talk about those?”
“I can kill a pony with my bare hooves.”
Dash chose to ignore the underlying tone of that one. “So, you’re a fighter? Hoof-to-hoof combat? Is that what your cutie m—”
“Don’t, do not,” Sky Dive growled. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then began: “I’m a close-combat specialist. I don’t usually fight to kill. I fight to distract, to overwhelm, to disable. To take on multiple ponies at once, and win. And there’s not a pony in the Outlands that’s been able to take me down,” he said, tossing his head.
Rainbow Dash bit her lip. Oh. That actually sounded kinda cool... And she’d majorly offended said cool-sounding pony without even trying.
Although, he seemed to be warming to the subject. How to continue winning him back? She racked her brains for a few seconds, and then began to smile as inspiration hit her. “Do you wanna show me?”
“What.”
“Yeah!” Dash sprung to her hooves. “I’m the fastest pony in Equestria, I bet you can’t lay a hoof on me!”
Sky Dive snorted. “Your funeral.” But he still rose to his hooves and faced her.
Dash shot towards the pegasus opposite her. She would of course hold back, go waaay slower than her fastest. The idea was never to hurt him, just give him a chance to show off his—where did he—?
Wham.
Pressure, pressure on her chest, her stomach, her back. Dash coughed. Then she blinked open her eyes, to find a carpet of grass blades stretching out ahead of her.
She was flat against the ground. She couldn’t move. Her wings were expertly pinned to her side, and a burnt-orange foreleg was held around her neck.
“Not a hoof, huh?”
“I, that,” Dash breathed, “that was awesome! I don’t even know how you did that! C-could you teach me?”
“Teach you?” came the incredulous voice from just above her. “Fuck off! Learning that takes years! Besides,” said the voice as it slowed, and grew colder, “I still have half a mind to tear you apart.”
Dash was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the muscular foreleg locked around her soft, soft throat. “Um, but, y-you aren’t gonna, right? I s-said I was s-sorr—your leader told you not to!”
“Yeah. Yeah he did.”
Agonising seconds passed.
“L-look, I know what I said was—”
“Say,” came the voice again, and Dash could hear the grin. But not the malice. “You ticklish?”
“…glad y’all’re enjoyin’ them! They ain’t as mouth-waterin’ as they are fresh from the trees, but Ah try ta pack ‘em in a ways that makes’m take longer ta spoil.” Applejack bit into her apple again for good measure, mouth straining to remain closed as she chewed the sizeable mouthful.
“Yes. I thank you. Apple trees are not common in Anarchy. Stripped bare is the usual state of affairs for those that do exist.” Full Spectrum took another delicate bite of her own piece of fruit, closing her eyes as she savoured the flavour. “It has been a long time.”
“Y’all serious? Well I’ll be darned, Ms Spectrum! Ain’t life without apples like an apple pie without… uh, apples?” Apparently this was a difficult concept to grasp for Ponyville’s veteran apple-bucker.
Full Spectrum, who had been chewing the same tiny mouthful all through Applejack’s response, continued to do so for a few more seconds. Then she swallowed. ”Dry food spoils less,” she replied. “Weighs less.” She flapped her wings for good measure. “We do forage as and when we can. But, as stated. No apples.”
“Well that stinks somethin’ fierce,” Applejack responded, now wearing a look of serious concern and sympathy. “Y’all want ta have the rest of mine?” She proffered the partially-masticated Sweet Apple Acres produce towards her pegasus companion.
“Thank you, no.”
“Right ya are.”
Full Spectrum took another tiny bite, and chewed in silence for a while.
“You are very at ease with the change of plan,” she stated.
Applejack thought for a moment. “Ya mean, stayin’ out here with y’all?”
“Yes.”
“Well now, Ms Spectrum, Ah ain’t gonna leave Twiligh’ out here all by her lonesome, am Ah? And you can bet all yer bits everypony else’d tell it to ya the same way. Ah said Ah’d come with her ta keep her safe, and if she’s stayin’, ya couldn’t drag me away.”
Full Spectrum nodded. “A promise from the Bearer of Honesty itself. There is no higher contract, I am sure. However, do not underestimate the possibility that you will need to make good on those promises of protection. Anarchy is not—”
She broke off, and in the silence it was clear to Applejack why. A low whimper, plaintive, straining not to be overheard.
“Come ooonnn… p-pleeeaaase… will you please s-stoooppp…”
It was Rainbow Dash. Sky Dive was atop her, and appeared to have her pinned to the ground in a headlock. He was unsmiling, deranged. At her words, he if anything tickled her even harder, causing her thrashes to intensify.
“That’s it, beg… how dare you…”
Applejack threw herself to her hooves, displaying a look of utter fury. Before she could take a single hoofstep towards the prostrate pair, however, she was blocked by a leather-clad foreleg.
“Skyder, what the fuck are you doing?” came Full Spectrum’s voice.
“Teaching,” replied Sky Dive without looking up.
“Yeah? Knock it the fuck off then. Do you have any idea what that looks like?”
Sky Dive’s eyes widened. Then he stood, letting Dash crumple unceremoniously to the ground. He strode over to Full Spectrum, face a livid mask. Hundreds of pounds of solid combat pegasus towered over her.
She didn’t even flinch.
“How dare you,” Sky Dive growled. “You think I would ever, you think that’s—”
“No,” Full Spectrum said, head tilted upwards and holding Sky Dive’s gaze. “But Brazer hasn’t seen you yet. Might want to stop before she does. Unless you want her making jokes.”
Sky Dive’s snarl diminished, and he looked over at Brazen Flame. She was grinning as she showed a pair of glistening forehooves to Pinkie. She clopped them together and they burst into flames. Pinkie gasped as the flaming mare yelled and waved her burning hooves in the air, yells giving way to chuckles as the flames burnt themselves out, leaving hooves apparently none the worse for wear. Pinkie gaped for a few seconds before squealing into laughter, clapping her own hooves in appreciation.
Sky Dive scoffed and spun on his hooves, making his way towards the treeline.
“HEY!”
Rainbow Dash had shoved herself to a trembling standing position, eyes puffy and red.
“You think you can just trot off? Who do you think you are?!” she choked, snarling and pawing the ground.
Sky Dive halted. He turned, displaying a raised eyebrow. “Somepony you should know by now not to mess with,” he said in a voice of icy calm. “You want to attack me? Go ahead. Midnight’s orders were to not hurt you, but I reckon he’ll buy self-defence if you’ve really got more pretty mane colours than brain cells.”
Dash shook as she continued to pierce the stallion with eyes of scalding fury.
Then she whipped around and stomped towards one of the tents, eyes fixed straight ahead. She lashed out at the entrance, wrenching the doorflap out of the way, and disappeared inside.
Sky Dive resumed his lone trot to the trees.
“I don’t know her as well as you do,” Full Spectrum said as Applejack began to head for Dash’s tent, “but I’d say, right now, she wants to be left alone.”
“Aw, apple-bucking Tartarus,” Applejack stomped around and blurted at the pegasus. “Why the heck did y’all stop me? Ain’t nopony has the right ta treat Rainbow like that!”
“Skyder would have torn you apart,” Full Spectrum replied.
“He’d have trahed,” Applejack shot back. “If he dares trah anything like that again, Ah’m gonna buck his dumb dirt-ridden face right down inside his overgrown neck, ya got that?”
Full Spectrum regarded the fuming applebucker for a short while. At last, she said, “Sky Dive’s behaviour was not acceptable.”
“Yer tellin’ me! Ah’ve never been this unkindly disposed towards a pony Ah just met in all mah life, and Ah’ve met Nightmare Moon.” She cast a dirty look across the other ponies chatting in the clearing. “Y’all gonna tell yer leader what ya just told me, or am Ah gonna hafta do it mahself?”
Another silent look from Full Spectrum in response. Her face, even devoid of her goggles, was unreadable. Applejack realised she’d never seen the mare smile.
“I would tell him,” she said. “If you think that is best. But, and again, you know your friend better than I do, she does not seem the type. I believe she would find it embarrassing. She would want to address it herself, in her own way.”
Applejack found it hard to hold Full Spectrum’s gaze. She sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, yer right. She’s darn stubborn, that mare. But,” and now she was glaring into Full Spectrum’s eyes, “that doesn’t let yer friend off the hook.”
“It does not.”
Full Spectrum sat down once more, and gestured for Applejack to do likewise. Applejack hesitated for a fraction of a second, then assented.
“Ah suppose Ah should be glad y’all were there ta stop him,” she said as she sat alongside. “Ah still don’t think ya should’ve had ta, mind.”
“I do not defend it. I cannot. But please… appreciate that we all have suffered a grievous loss. Some are able to hide it more than others. Some are affected more than others.”
“Oh… y-ya sayin’ Skah Dive had… had family?”
Full Spectrum shook her head. “It is forbidden. Lodestari special forces are picked from those without such… baggage. Ponies like the Resurgent would think nothing of making hostages out of them. Sine Wave’s sister is a rare exception to this, and it was only allowed because she is under Equestrian military jurisdiction. Not even the Resurgent would attempt such a kidnap. And the mare in question is quite capable of defending herself in any case.”
“Ah don’t understand then,” Applejack said. “If Skah Dive ain’t torn up over something like that, why’s he acting so much worse than the rest of y’all?”
“I think it is obvious,” Full Spectrum replied in a tone that did not invite further inquiries.
Applejack considered the mare for a moment. The tone reminded her of something else that had been nagging at her. Firm, but polite?
“Ya… yer bein’ a heck o’ a lot politer ta me than yer friend over there woulda been.”
“Mm?”
“The swearin’. Ah’ve heard more unsavoury language in the last hour than all the rest a’ mah life.”
“I am not one for it, myself.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Well that just ain’t true now is it, Ms Spectrum,” she chided. “Ah heard what ya said to Skah Dive.”
“Oh, that. You will notice that Sky Dive is making use of strong language at this present time. I needed him to listen to me, and speaking on his terms was an easy way to steer him.”
Applejack blinked. She was starting to see this mare in a new light. “What do y’all do anyway?” she asked at last.
“I am an A.S.P. – Aerial Surveillance Pegasus,” Full Spectrum replied, adding the clarification in response to Applejack’s blank stare. “Serving as my team’s eyes in the sky. Not the biggest, not the strongest. But a provider of a vital service all the same. That of information.”
“Trackin’ the movements of other ponies?”
“Correct. Foes… and friends. Never underestimate the utility of information allowing you to be in the right place, at the right time. Day or night.” She patted the goggles hanging loose by her chest.
“Night? Ya sayin’ them there goggles…?”
“Wave Constriction charm,” Full Spectrum stated. “Shifts incoming infr—heat light into the visible spectrum.” She waited. “Lets you see in the dark,” she appended at last.
“Huh. Sounds like Ah could use a pair of those the next time Ah lose track of a sheep just before sundown.”
“Ha,” Full Spectrum responded. “Anypony could use them, but not as effectively. I’m a tetrachromat.”
“A teta-whatnow?”
“Tetrachromat,” Full Spectrum repeated. “Laymare’s terms, I can distinguish more colours than the average mare. It helps when viewing the shifted thermal light, as well. If there is a pony trying to hide down there, I will find them.”
Applejack scratched her head. “Ah’m confused. Y’all can see colours nopony else can see?”
Full Spectrum shook her head. “Not exactly. I am more sensitive to slight differences that other ponies would not even notice.” She cast her eyes around the clearing, and something appeared to catch her attention. “For example, I bet you think the apples on your cutie mark are all exactly the same shade of red, don’t you?”
“Huh?” Applejack turned her head to stare at her flank. “B-but they are, aren’t they? Y’all serious?”
Full Spectrum would only smile.
* * *
“…not going to ask you to discuss the assassination attempt tonight, Ms Sparkle,” Midnight was saying. “I will want Specs and Sine Wave to contribute. Your friend Ms Rarity had the right idea. Best we spend the night getting to know one another, first.”
Twilight just nodded, and her eyes wandered skywards. She didn’t know how far into the night they were, but it was surprisingly bright, with the full moon now positioned perfectly overhead to illuminate everypony as they chatted.
Perhaps not so surprising.
“Do you know what we’re going to do?” she asked.
“Make our way to where the Resurgent base themselves,” Midnight replied. “As we travel, we need to consider what makes you a threat to them. Once we know, we will strike decisively to remove them.”
“Why did they do it?” Twilight asked the floor.
Midnight fell silent. “We are civilisation, they are not. It has always been policy for us to ensure that no faction can grow too powerful to threaten us.” He closed his eyes. “We were too late.”
“I—I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask—”
“Don’t be,” Midnight stated, opening his eyes once more. “It is the Resurgent who are to blame. And anypony in Anarchy that supports them.”
“What is ‘Anarchy’?” Twilight asked. A desirable subject change, but also genuine curiosity.
“It is what most ponies mean when they refer to the Outlands,” Midnight said. “Those of us of Lodestar refer to any Outland territory not within the city wall as Anarchy. For that is all there is out here,” he added in a darker tone.
“M-maybe I should tell you a bit about me,” Twilight grimaced. “I live in Ponyville library, although a few years back I was living in a place called Canterlot…”
* * *
The night marched on. Tired though the Equestrians were, those still with their companions were encouraged to stay awake as long as they could, the better to allow them to sleep throughout the day.
One by one, the ponies retired to their tents. The Lodestari grouped themselves together in the clearing, muttering in low voices. Then, they broke apart. Most went to lie under the cover of the trees. One remained, sitting alone, keeping a silent watch in the darkness.
* * *
The tent was a cramped affair, even accounting for its intended capacity of two. It was well-designed to block external light except through the squares of transparent material used as windows, optionally covered by a zip-ringed flap.
Right now, the coverings were in place.
No shadow betrayed an approach to the tent. The first sign was the sound of the zip moving along the entrance flap.
Then, crisp night air followed Applejack through into the tent’s interior.
“R-Rainbow?”
The pegasus was lying in a sleeping bag, apparently reading her copy of Daring Do and the Horn of Princesses with deep concentration. Her rigid hold and fixed eyes gave lie to the display, however.
Applejack swallowed and turned to re-seal the tent’s entrance. “Ah’m sorry, Rainbow. Ah’m not gonna let anypony do that to ya again.” She removed her Stetson and placed it alongside the remaining empty sleeping bag. Then, she wriggled down inside. “Trah ta get some sleep. In the morni—uh, tomorrow evening, we can tell Midnigh’ what that pony did. Ah think he’d agree with us.”
Dash didn’t respond.
Applejack let out a sigh as her mouth wavered a little. “Do y’all mind if we put the lamp out? Ah mean, if ya wanna keep reading, that’s okay too—”
Dash thudded the book down and wrestled herself down to her neck inside her sleeping bag, turning away as she did so.
Applejack looked utterly miserable as she watched Dash’s motionless form for a few seconds. Then, she leant over to the lamp separating them, and blew. Darkness engulfed them.
“Well… goodnight, Rainbow.”
There was a succession of crinkly, rubbing material sounds as Applejack found herself a comfortable sleeping position. Once achieved, she let out her breath in another sigh, and closed her eyes.
“Applejack?”
Her eyes shot open. “Yeah, Rainbow?”
“I’m gonna get him for this.”
“Aw, darlin’, Ah’m so sorry. That darn pony’s a bully if Ah ever saw one. There was no call fer that whatever. Honest truth.”
“I’m gonna get him,” Dash repeated. “Goodnight, Applejack.”
“Good… goodnight,” Applejack replied.
Silence dominated once more. Applejack settled into her sleeping bag.
Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, soon took hold over the two ponies. Within a few minutes, they drifted into uneasy sleep.
The buildings were low-set affairs, with flat rooftops of weathered concrete. The packing was tight, each of the identically-constructed dwellings slotted in after the last, with only the occasional gap to cater for connecting pathways below. The late afternoon sun was still shining, although the majority fell on the rooftops, leaving the ponies below to travel in dim light that was merely adequate.
They moved with purpose. These alleyways were no place to linger. It was no surprise that the majority were earth ponies, and unicorns were easy enough to spot in the mingle, bearing as they did the gift of light to bring to any areas of particular shadow. A more curious aspect was the pegasi amongst them. Perhaps occasionally one would pause, gazing up at the sky, frowning at the glorious day they could be bathing in. Perhaps one of them was even looking up when the pony shot between the tops of the buildings above.
The stallion rolled forward as he hit the rooftop, wings clamped to his side. As he righted once more, he sprang to his hooves and continued his gallop, launching himself into the air yet again, sailing effortlessly across the next gap.
The sun’s golden warmth glistened off the film of sweat that clung to his fur. How wretched were the ponies below, crawling in the dark when they could be bathing in the sunlight! And was he not proof that anypony could do it, if they so chose? All it took was simple dedication.
The no-fly zone near the wall wasn’t racist in intent, but it could hardly fail to affect one pony subgroup in particular. This particular pegasus had taken it in his stride. He was already volunteering at the dilapidated gym, spending his free time cleaning and sweeping, in exchange for free access to the machines. A pegasus was always in danger of neglecting his own four legs, he’d thought. If he really was going to get outside these walls one day, he couldn’t let that happen. Especially not now it was more than just a dream.
His ‘solution’ to the no-fly zone hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. There had been angry exchanges with the Lodestar border police. He’d even trained himself to climb the walls of the buildings, to ensure he made no use of his wings at any point. They couldn’t deny he was keeping to the letter of the law. Infuriated as they were, they had no choice but to let him go, every time.
It settled into routine. He continued to maintain all six of his limbs in top condition, and kept his leg reflexes well-honed with his fast-paced rooftop travel. He’d avoid altercations with that damn head guard pony’s little cabal of uptight control-freaks where he could, and challenged them to find the law he was breaking when he couldn’t.
The fateful day had been the head guard’s hosting of a Government official. An audit. The idea was to prove the watertight security of the Lodestar border, to demonstrate the total security afforded to their beloved Republic.
The pegasus had his suspicions that alcohol was involved. Be that as it may, the additional pressures of the audit made the head guard even less forgiving than usual, and the pegasus happened to be making his way across the rooftops in plain sight of the guard and his guest during a tour of the wall. The guard had flown into a rage on sight, ordering his military police to subdue the ‘no-fly-zone-violator’.
The pegasus put up a good fight, but ultimately stood little chance. When he was dragged, bound, in front of the Government official, the head guard spouting off about him being a known troublemaker, he knew his days were numbered.
Or so he’d thought. To the Head Guard’s horror, the Official was both highly amused and extremely impressed by what he’d witnessed. It had taken four well-equipped border police to apprehend this fledgling pegasus, a pegasus who lacked even a cutie mark. And he had displayed a strong, independent attitude, a willingness to find ways around pesky restrictions.
Apparently, they were looking for ponies like that.
The pegasus was offered the opportunity to join the Government’s exclusive programme. No details were given, and selection was not guaranteed, but it was sold as an opportunity to work outside Lodestar’s claustrophobic wall.
Of course he’d agreed.
So he’d kept up his training regimen, now supplemented by schooling from the best masters Lodestar had to offer, to hone his natural martial skills.
His cutie mark still hadn’t appeared. It was no bother to him. He knew his own heart, and nopony was stupid enough to give him a hard time about his blank flank.
He launched himself off another rooftop.
He wasn’t looking to beat his record. Not this time. The sun was wonderful, and he was going to savour it.
“What the—? Get your filthy hooves—!”
He skidded to a halt, throwing up a cloud of dust. He stood in silence. Strained his ears to listen. The sound had come from directly below.
“Shh shh girl, don’t make me do something I don’t wanna…”
The pegasus crept to the edge of the rooftop, and peered over.
He saw them instantly. A dark-blue earth pony was standing behind a pegasus mare coloured a lighter shade, holding her. A knife was strapped to his foreleg, and he had it pressed against her throat. Ahead of them, a dark-green unicorn, grinning maliciously, was levitating a knife of his own out of a saddlebag.
“Hate ta do this and all,” he said, words at odds with his expression. “’specially since you were nice enough to stop and listen and give ol’ Slipknot a chance to come up behind you an’ all. But a pony’s gotta eat. Now, if you’ll just slowly take off your bags and hoof them over…”
The mare spat, although the range was insufficient to meet her target. “Go fuck yourselves.”
“Aw, ain’t it cute? Looks like we got a gal with a bit of spirit, Slipknot!” His horn glowed brighter, and the knife floated towards her face. “Let’s see if you’re so disagreeable-like with only one eye…”
The rooftop pegasus didn’t have time to think. He threw himself over the roof’s edge, and beat his wings to accelerate down towards the unicorn. There was no time to slow, no time to aim properly, the knife was less than a second away from her—
He slammed into the ground, and the shockwaves battered his entire body, cracked the concrete, tingled his flanks. The unicorn was thrown from his hooves and fell to the floor, stunned.
The knife clattered to the ground in front of the mare.
“Leave her,” the pegasus growled at Slipknot. The scum was as wide-eyed as his would-be victim.
“D-don’t come any closer, pegasus,” stuttered Slipknot. “I-I’ll hurt her.” He twitched his knife-bearing hoof for good measure. The mare’s eyes followed the blade.
The pegasus stallion hesitated.
“Y-yeah, that’s right, stay away,” Slipknot nodded. Then he pointed his knife at the wall behind the pegasus. “Back up agai—”
The mare punched Slipknot’s knife foreleg away whilst bucking him as hard as she could in the legs. He staggered backwards, and recovered just in time for the mare to slam a hoof into his muzzle. He dropped like a sack of wet sand.
“You stay down or I’ll finish you off!” the mare thundered at the stallion clutching at his face. “And you!” she snarled, marching up to the pegasus. “What do you think you were doing?!”
His mouth fell open. Fell open more. “I—what? But didn’t I just—”
She broke into a grin. “Aw, I’m just kidding. Thanks for the help!”
The pegasus blinked a couple of times. Then he let out a relieved chuckle. “Not funny.”
“You laughed!” she grinned back. Then she peered past him to look at the dazed unicorn. “Stupid of me, I shoulda known he was just a distraction. And once that knife was there, well, you’ve lost, ya know?”
“Yeah. That was damn smooth of you, though. Got a chance, didn’t waste it!”
“Aw, you’re sweet.”
The unicorn moaned.
The mare flicked her eyes across, and raised an eyebrow. “Guess we should deal with ‘em.”
The pegasus nodded. “Yeah. Don’t really wanna kill ‘em.”
“Oh, Powers no. Wouldn’t shed any tears if they got themselves killed, but I ain’t gonna do it.”
The pegasus nodded again, and trotted over to the unicorn. He drew back his hoof and slapped it across the supine pony’s face. The unicorn’s eyes blinked open.
“I don’t ever want to see you two again,” the pegasus growled. “Next time, we’ll take turns breaking legs,” he added, looking up at the mare. She grinned and nodded, a hoof on the back of the other felled pony. Both defeated would-be robbers had eyes only for him. “Now get the hell out of here.”
They staggered to their hooves, never making eye contact with the two pegasi. They made for the nearest alleyway down the street, and slinked away out of sight.
“So what, you’re gonna come find me if you see ‘em again?” the mare asked. “I’d hate to miss out on one of your leg-breaking dates,” she smirked.
“’Dates’?” The pegasus stallion’s tongue mutinied and twisted in on itself. Was his face getting warmer? “I didn’t, uhm, well, I mean…”
“Dates for your diary, is what I meant,” the mare grinned back with her best innocent look.
“Oh right, yeah of course, sorr—“
“Of course,” the mare continued, “if we were gonna think about that, I’d have to know a bit more about you! You got a name, big boy? And you’re not getting away without telling me how you got that gorgeous cutie mark!”
“My cu—!” The stallion’s head whipped around, and there it was on his flank. A vertical bolt of solid white, ending in shockwave rings.
“Hah! I hardly need to tell you! You saw it for yourself!
She beamed back. The stallion was grinning.
* * *
Sky Dive was scowling.
Twilight pushed the tent flap a little further aside, taking care to hide behind it as much as possible. Yes, that was the stocky pegasus alright. Sitting upright in the clearing and facing away from them. Had he even moved? These ponies must need to sleep, surely.
“Ooh, whatcha lookin’ at, Twi?”
Twilight jumped. “Oh! Pinkie,” she whispered. “I just wanted to see who’s up. Looks like we’re the first.” She looked back at her pink tent-mate. “Sleep okay?”
“Yes indeedy! This pony’s ready to party the night away!”
Twilight flinched as the streamer fired out and glanced off the end of her nose. “Maybe we should save those for when we’re back home,” she said, floating the offending item out of her companion’s mouth. “I don’t think our new friends would appreciate the noise.”
“Aw come on Twi!” Pinkie said loudly, “Applejack stopped me bringing the really loud stu—!”
“Pinkie!” Twilight whispered, planting a hoof on the pony’s mouth. She looked around at Sky Dive, but he didn’t seem to have reacted. “Pinkie, please. Just be careful, alright? These ponies are all a bit delicate right now. They must be.”
“Hiiih hoh ‘ach!” came Pinkie’s indignant response.
Twilight sighed and removed her hoof.
“I know that!” Pinkie said. “Don’t worry, if anypony wants to be left alone… I will. Pinkie promise,” she added in a mutter, her eyes moving briefly to the tent flap and back.
“Sorry, Pinkie, I know you’d know that,” Twilight mumbled. “I just want to avoid any more, well, misunderstandings.”
Pinkie gave a solemn nod.
Twilight smiled, and then turned back to the entrance flap. “I don’t suppose you remember if that’s the same stallion that began the watch?”
* * *
…ooohh…unicorns are not made for daylight slumber…
Rarity grimaced and slid a hoof out to pat the eyeshades back into position. It took her all of a second to regret that particular decision, and she hurriedly stowed the foreleg back inside the warmth of her sleeping bag.
Warmth, not comfort. Heavens, no. This backpack bed may be many things (a repurposed garbage bag if that vaguely sour odour was everything her worst suspicions indicated), but comfortable was not one of them.
Oh, for a soupçon of softener, and the means with which to apply it!
And yet, her current swaddled state was preferable to the frigidity that awaited her when otherwise shorn of it. Not soft enough to stay. Too cold to move.
Oh, grim poetry! The unattainability of perfection!
No. This would not do. The sleeping bag, this tent, they were luxuries kindly gifted by foreign ponies they barely knew. She would not act the ungrateful foal. She would rise to her hooves, greet the crisp evening air with aplomb, and act in the dignified manner only rightly befitting a Royal Equestrian Ambassador.
She lay—continued to lie, on her back. The seconds dripped by.
“Fluttershy?” she sighed at last. “Would you be a dear and pass me my scarf?”
Silence.
“Fluttershy, dear?” Rarity repeated. Once again, only silence greeted her. She pursed her lips, took a forehoof to her shades, and stretched one half up to uncover an eye.
Fluttershy was sitting in rigid posture on her mattress, in the dark, hugging the sleeping bag tight around her.
“Fluttershy, my dear, what’s wrong?” Rarity whispered. She rose to her hooves, lighting her horn in a soft glow. The bed bag slid to the floor in a heap, and Rarity was at her friend’s side, a forehoof on her shoulder. “If it’s the smell, you can have some of the perfume I was saving; you need only but ask.”
The pegasus shivered and turned her bloodshot eyes on Rarity.
“Couldn’t you sleep, my dear?” Rarity asked. “Nopony could blame you.”
Fluttershy trembled. “Th… th…”
“What is it? Please tell me, we can put it right.”
Fluttershy stopped, swallowed, tried again. “Th… they k-kill things.”
Rarity took in a sharp breath. “I—surely not! That mare with the blond and scarlet mane may have made a tasteless reference or two to such a thing,” she said, shaking her head, “but I’m sure she’s no killer at heart, Fluttershy. And that stout, irascible pegasus of theirs knows how to obey an order, at the very least!”
“And… and Pe-, the a-animals… p-poison…?” Fluttershy almost pleaded.
Rarity’s eyes briefly widened as realisation dawned. “Hmph! I can assure you, that pony you spoke to shall not be harming animals under our supervision. They follow Twilight, now. Do you think she would for a moment allow it?”
Fluttershy released a little of the tension coiling her body. “I… I g-guess not.”
Rarity put a hoof around her. “We must be understanding, of course. They may well say things to distress us, without truly meaning them. Their ways are not our ways, you understand, and I think we can forgive them for not being able to think with clarity now, given what they must surely be going through, yes?”
Fluttershy sniffed and nodded. “Sorry.”
“Not a word of it, my dear,” Rarity smiled. “Let’s get you freshened up. And I think I packed just the things…”
* * *
Applejack screwed up her eyes and grunted. Consarn it, she’d been enjoying that blissful post-waking snooze period. The one were a pony doesn’t yet remember the things troubling them.
Well, there was no way she was going to be able to lie peacefully now. She forced herself to sit up, despite the strong temptation to snuggle back down and try to forget about it all again. It was dark. Either the window-flaps were performing an admirable job of keeping the daylight out, or she’d slept far longer than she’d thought.
She looked over at Dash’s sleeping bag.
For a stabbing split-second, she thought the pegasus had gone. But then she saw the gentle rise and fall of the bag’s surface. Dash was there after all; just curled up.
Applejack continued to watch her sleeping friend for a minute or two. The last thing she wanted to do was wake the disillusioned mare.
Sadness wormed its way through her gut. And in the next instant, all of her rage from the night before surged back. This wasn’t right! Less than a day after meeting these new ponies, and one had already upset at least two of them! Created a darned hoof-stubbing disagreeable atmosphere for everypony!
As quietly as she could, she pulled the sleeping bag off. Still swathed in darkness, she rose to her hooves and crept to the tent’s entryway.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She was gonna find that darn dry-rot of an excuse for a bullying pegasus, and give him a piece of her mind.
She moved the zip along the flap. Slow, soft clicks.
She poked her muzzle outside. Orange sky. Sunset. She really had slept for hours.
“Oh, morning Applejack!”
Applejack went rigid as soon as she heard the voice behind her. She rotated and peered back inside the tent. With her night vision ruined, she struggled to see much. But a shadowy pony was sitting up on Rainbow Dash’s mattress alright.
“’Cept it isn’t really morning, is it? Gotta get used to that!”
Applejack squinted. “R-Rainbow? How are y’all feelin’?”
“So I’ve been thinking,” the shadow-pony said as she jumped to her hooves and trotted up to Applejack. Her face came into contact with the light at last, and to Applejack’s astonishment, the pegasus was smiling.
“Huh? Rainbow, I hope y’all aren’t planning on doin’ anything all rash-like…”
“Oh, nah. Don’t worry, Applejack. I know I said some things last night, but now I’ve had some time to think about it, I get it now!” Dash smiled even wider. “I know what I need to do!”
“Rainbow, what—?”
“Don’t you see? He’s upset, Applejack. Darn it, I would be! And I, well, I didn’t exactly say the right thing when we first met, did I?” Dash frowned. “That one was my fault. Gotta accept that.” She shook her head, and resumed her bright smile once more. “He sounded like a really cool pony when we talked! I know we’d make an awesome team! He just needs to notice that I’m cool, too! He’ll come around, easy as!”
Applejack seemed to consider that for a while. Her expression was still neutral when she eventually responded. “That’s… that’s real noble of ya, Rainbow, not ta be holdin’ grudges. And Ah’d say ya have every right ta hold one. I’m real proud of ya.” Her expression darkened. ”But Ah really think y’all should stay away from that pony. Ah’m not acceptin’ that there’s any excuse fer treatin’ ya like he did. Ya don’t take yer problems out on somepony else. And Ah still think we should tell Midnigh’.”
Dash’s expression fell. “Aw no, Applejack, don’t do that! You’ll just annoy him even more!”
“Ah can’t say Ah give half a hay bale how much Ah nudge his beehive,” Applejack replied, eyes narrowed. “He’s the one who started this.”
“Are you so sure about that?” Dash mumbled.
Applejack hesitated, and then let out a heavy sigh. “Look, Rainbow, Ah know ya want ta make things right again. That’s yer decision ta let bygones be bygones. But Ah can’t stand by while he thinks he can do that to one o’ us. Y’all at least can take it. What if he’d done it ta Fluttershy?”
Dash’s mouth came open. “I… I…” She withered. “I’d have bucked all his teeth out.”
“Darn right,” Applejack nodded. “He still might.”
“But, but, it was me who upset him”, Dash pleaded. “Just, just give me a chance, okay? You know if he starts on anypony else I’ll be the first to jump in and stop him. For the love of Celestia, we’re supposed to be on the same side! Let me try and fix this!”
Applejack glared at Dash, who in turn was leaning forward, earnest, imploring. Try as the applebucker might, she couldn’t stop it eroding her determination.
“Al… alright, Rainbow,” Applejack said in a quiet voice. “Ah don’t agree, but yer the one he’s hurt most right now. Ah don’t think yer gonna get anywhere, but if y’all’re prepared ta let him… treat ya wrong while ya try ta reach out ta him, Ah respect that’s yer decision.” She ground an involuntary divot into the grass outside the tent with her hoof. “But if he starts on anypony else, Ah’m not gonna be held responsible fer what Ah do ta that darn barrel slime in retaliation, ya hear?”
Dash nodded. “I’ll be right there with you, no sweat. Thanks, Applejack. ‘ppreciate it.” Dash patted her on the shoulder.
Applejack smiled. “Y’all’re really too darn stubborn fer yer own good sometimes, ya know that, Rainbow?”
“Funny way to say ‘most awesome pony ever’,” Dash retorted with a grin. “Now to remind everypony else!”
Applejack chuckled. “Whatever ya say, Sugarcube! Let’s go find the others.”
* * *
The middle of the clearing now played host to several of the Lodestar ponies. Twilight had exchanged brief waves with her new companions as she moved between the tents, but it was only now that she approached, with her five best friends in tow. Full Spectrum was first to spot them.
“Good evening, Equestrians. I trust you slept well?”
Twilight instantly suppressed the urge to yawn. “Okay. I think it’ll take a few days for our circadian rhythms to adjust, though.”
Full Spectrum nodded. Brazen Flame, lacking Twilight’s qualms, completed her own routine of loud yawning and stretching. “Whatever the hell that means. Trust me, it’s not gonna get any better than those tents. Well, ya might get lucky and convince Midnight to let us pay old Double Tap a visit, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
Full Spectrum tilted her head back. “Don’t be ridiculous. We still have work to do. Yes, even you. You are unable to survive just a few days sleeping rough?”
“Hey, hey,” Brazen replied. “It’s alright for you in that latex fetish suit. Some of us are a little more under-dressed, ya know? I swear, one day is all it takes to get half the grass in Anarchy permanently wedged up my—”
“Charming,” Full Spectrum replied. “Would it kill you to be professional for five minutes?”
“Now, ye’ll know the answer to that particular conundrum I’d wager, Specs,” smiled Peptide. “Anything goes for our Brazer, ‘cepting mindless good taste.”
“One lives in hope,” Full Spectrum muttered as Brazen gave Peptide an exaggerated grinning salute.
“Who is this ‘Double Tap’?” asked Rarity. “I thought the ponies out here weren’t to be trifled with?”
“That is in fact quite apt, Ms Rarity,” said Full Spectrum, switching focus in an instant. “Double Tap operates the Brass Horseshoe, serving as innkeeper and bartender both.”
“What’s so ‘apt’ about all that?” Applejack asked.
“He enforces a policy of steadfast neutrality,” Peptide replied. “He’ll serve anypony, and Powers help any troublemakers. As places in Anarchy go, it’s one of the safest places to relax and unwind. Providing ye don’t… trifle,” he said, nodding at Rarity.
“But there is little call for us to visit,” Full Spectrum said. “It cannot be said what effect the Outland power struggle will have on its status as a safe haven. And our mission is rather more important than Brazer’s need for a comfortable bed to sleep on.”
“Pah. Remind me again why your parents didn’t call you Party Pooper?” Brazen asked, leaning back onto the grass once more.
Full Spectrum grunted. Then she muttered, just loud enough for the Equestrians to hear. “Less of a mystery is why yours never considered ‘Quantum of Decorum’.”
Twilight continued to observe the feuding ponies even as silence fell between them. It was fascinating. Logic dictated that everypony in their team would have to trust each other completely. Twilight knew only too well that a group of friends at loggerheads could never hope to come together to face down a common foe. And yet, insults seemed to be par for the course here. Was this normal, she wondered, or was it another symptom of the terrible blow they’d all suffered? She felt a twinge of sadness at the thought that they might lose each other, even after all they’d already lost. Wasn’t enough, well, enough?
“Uh, so…”
Nine ponies turned their heads. Sine Wave shrank a little from the sudden onslaught of attention, but swallowed and pressed on. “Yeah. Hi, new ponies! Hi again, I mean. Was just waiting to say – well, I didn’t want to interrupt anypony! Midnight’s just off deciding our next move.” She fidgeted a little in the silence. “He’ll be back soon!”
Rainbow Dash squinted. “Why’s he need to go someplace to do that?”
“I can guess as to where he is,” Full Spectrum said. “If he considers it too difficult to perform himself…”
“We’re gonna go help?” Dash replied with rising excitement.
“Help y’all do what, exactly?” Applejack asked.
“Save lives.”
Midnight cantered out of the blackening forest. The other Lodestar ponies rose to their hooves.
“Twelve of them, Specs,” he said as he reached the group.
Full Spectrum nodded. “You will take Skyder?”
“Yes,” Midnight replied. “Sky Dive, it’s the Royal Terminus. I trust you remember the protocol?”
The pegasus’ dark blue eyes shifted from gazing deep into the black forest, and focused on Midnight. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then get this gear all packed up, everypony,” Midnight said as he looked to his team. “We’re leaving.”
“Wait, where are we going?” Twilight asked.
“The Royal Terminus, Ms Sparkle,” Midnight replied. “It’s the train station where you were originally going to meet us. We’re going to clear it of the criminals there.”
“Isn’t… isn’t that the place that…” Twilight began, feeling sillier with every word she spoke. Then she caught Fluttershy’s terrified expression. “Isn’t that the place everypony out here says is ‘haunted’?”
Midnight stared at Twilight, expression unfathomable. Twilight held his gaze, even as she internally castigated herself for the ridiculous utterance. The last thing she expected was for Midnight to break into a wide grin, which he shared with his own companions.
“I think it’s time we re-established that reputation.”
* * *
“You’re impressed.”
They were standing at the edge of the forest. Night had well and truly fallen during their brief trot, and the sky was a glorious black canvas speckled with pinpricks of glinting starlight, smeared with the warm hues of far-distant nebulae. Upon every Equestrian dawned the same realisation – this was their first view of the night sky out here, and with little by way of light pollution, it was truly breathtaking.
Midnight, however, was focused on the buildings ahead. A few smaller constructions, lifeless husks all, were closest. They looked as though they hadn’t been touched in years, much less lived in. Behind those was what must have been the Royal Terminus itself.
It was huge; easily making a mockery of Ponyville Town Hall in length and breadth, if not height. The masonry of its construction looked much the same as Sanctuary’s thick border wall, although even the dark of the night could not hide its cracked and weathered appearance. The roof was an arching network of girder-like protrusions, suspending a black-veined bubble of glass above the building’s interior. Unlike the cracked windows on the building’s side, a glow of yellowed light emanated from the dome in all directions.
“It has stood the test of time for centuries,” Midnight continued. “Even once its original purpose diminished.”
“And someponies are holed up there alright,” Applejack said in hushed tones.
“They will be simple enough to remove,” Midnight replied. Slightly away from the group, Sky Dive was crouching low with closed eyes. His wings he stretched out to their fullest extent, and back once more. He repeated the exercises, shifting from one pair of limbs to the next.
“Ya ain’t gonna hurt ‘em, Ah hope,” Applejack said with a determined glare, avoiding looking at the silhouette of the silent pegasus.
“No more than necessary, Ms Applejack,” Midnight said. “I have already covertly observed them. I believe that their leader is the main driving force keeping them there.” Then, a ghost of that earlier smile. “A sufficient demonstration will keep them away, and word of mouth will once again ensure the safety of this place for weeks to come.”
“Aw, come on, they’ll see for themselves soon enough!” Brazen grinned. “Let’s get our spook on!”
Midnight nodded, and beckoned the group to follow. They moved in silence, and Twilight strained to hear any sound of activity emanating from within the depths of the antiquated structure ahead.
She looked around for Fluttershy. The pegasus may have been keeping pace, but her posture was rigid, and she stared at the ground as she walked. She noticed Twilight, however, and they locked eyes. The fear was unmistakable. To the gentle pony’s credit, she still offered Twilight a weak smile. Twilight offered her own reassuring version back, and Fluttershy seemed to relax a little.
At least, until the blue-green glow illuminated her face, and her eyes widened as she squeaked in fear, focusing on something ahead of Twilight. Then she was gone with a burst of speed to rival Rainbow Dash, shivering behind Rarity who, like most everypony else, had stopped dead in her tracks to stare at the source of the unearthly glow.
Twilight turned.
It was one of the dilapidated shacks. A relic of crumbling stonework. On top, a roof of jagged holes, revealing only the silhouettes of jagged crossbeams, broken and angled skywards over a pitch-black interior. Ivy snaked its way up the moss-coated stone, and rusty nails held mouldy planks against windows long ago smashed. All told, it was indistinguishable from the other ruined hovels the ponies had passed on their travels tonight – save one aspect. Daubed on the wall facing the ponies, in a messy, dripping font, was a message scrawled in a sickly, luminous turquoise:
Souls that venture forth take heed If thou art foul in thought or deed The restless shades that dwell within Have mercy not for those that sin
The silence that followed was a smothering blanket. Twilight finished her read-through of the dark edict, and made no sound as she re-read, waiting for the others to finish. But now her heart beat with a renewed sense of urgency, and the thuds were deafening in her ears.
“A taboo,” Rarity whispered as she patted Fluttershy on the mane. “Oh, but this is clearly the source of the haunting rumours.”
“Sorta!” Sine Wave nodded. “For most ponies—”
“Poncy-arsed words and vague threats of evil spirits do the job, yeah,” Brazen Flame said. She shook her head. “Some overpaid pony in External Affairs did well for herself,” she muttered.
“You saying this isn’t real?” Rainbow Dash asked, moving closer to scrutinise the text.
Brazen Flame chuckled. “How ya defining ‘real’? Sure as hell no ghosts in there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of the looming building ahead. “This thing’s just been zapped by some horn-head to light up with that bullshit and make the dumber Anarchists piss themselves. Colour was a bitch to mimic, too.”
“Huh?”
Brazen stuck out her tongue at Dash, squashing it between grinning teeth. “Patience, patience! You’ll see.”
“And on that matter – if you would, Brazer, Peptide,” Midnight said.
“Yah,” Brazen replied as she stuck her nose into a saddlebag. She brought out a flask of dark liquid. Midnight took it in his mouth and dropped it into a saddlebag of his own. Then he repeated the motion with the bottle offered this time by Peptide, although the cloth wrapped around it obscured any liquid it contained.
“Don’t get ‘em mixed up,” Brazen warned. Then she grinned. “Although now I kinda wanna see that.”
“Noo Brazey, mixing drinks is baad!” chimed Pinkie, flapping her head from side to side and drawing a hoof across her throat.
Brazen cocked an eye at the pony behind her. “Brazen. Ya ain’t wrong, though. It goes double when ya don’t wanna be drinking either of the two things in the first place.”
“Take the Equestrians to the rooftop, please,” said Midnight. “Specs will signal that it’s safe.”
The hawk-eyed pegasus had resumed her position in the skies above, although the night robbed the ponies of much hope of glimpsing her.
“You’ll be able to watch from there without fear of retaliation,” Midnight said to Twilight. “Don’t do anything to attract attention, and you’ll be fine. Skyder and I will meet up with you when we’re done.” He trotted part of the way towards Sky Dive, then turned and bowed his head. “Until then, be safe.”
“Wait, wait!” Rainbow Dash flew out and planted herself down in front of Midnight. “If you’re gonna take on these ponies, lemme help!” She attempted a winning smile at Sky Dive, standing as he was behind his leader, body already angled in the opposite direction.
The pegasus, for his part, scoffed. “No.”
“Aw, come ooon,” Dash pleaded, eyes now moving to meet Midnight’s. “I’m strong, I’m fast, they won’t know what hit ‘em!”
In a single, sharp motion, Sky Dive drew back a forehoof. After a pause, he snorted again. “Fucked if I’m disobeying an order for her. You know where to find me when you’ve gotten rid of her, Midnight.” With a few flaps of his wings, he was off out of sight.
Midnight scrutinised Dash for a little while before responding. “We appreciate the offer of assistance, Ms Dash, but for this particular operation, we need practised hooves.” He raised a hoof as Dash opened her mouth. “Not just well-versed in combat, but also the particular,” he smirked, “spectacle, that we choreograph. I am sure we will make use of your skills some other time, but for now, please appreciate that not every pony is ideal for every task. It would be inappropriate for me to take even other members of my own team for this.”
“Aw, love ya too, Midnight!” grinned Brazen. “Miss ya already!”
“Case in point,” Midnight said without missing a beat. “I suggest, Ms Dash, that you observe well. You may not be ready to help us now, but maybe with a little experience…” he smiled. “Keep your friends safe for me.”
“I’m keeping them safe whatever,” Dash replied at last. “Alright… alright,” she said, trotting back to the group once more, making sure not to meet eyes with Applejack.
“First hoofstep on the path to greatness is recognising your own limitations,” Midnight said. “I assure you, this will be very instructive for you. Stay safe.” With that, he turned and slipped into the darkness.
“The ladder is just around the corner,” Peptide said, heading towards the towering wall of the train station. Sine Wave, Brazen Flame and the Equestrians fell in step behind.
Grass crisped underhoof as the ponies once more trotted along. Twilight grimaced. Midnight and his companions had kept a relentless pace, even burdened as some of them were. Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Pinkie had had little trouble keeping up, but Twilight and the rest were beginning to feel the strain. She’d had a more leisurely time setting her own pace in the running of the leaves, of all things.
On the up side, she felt far safer tonight. It was nice to have some certainty once more, and Midnight had glowed with it. And it was incredibly reassuring to know Full Spectrum was above, able to sight any threats long before they could hope to ambush her.
Peptide was nearby, and caught the question. “What’s that, lassie? Ye want to know the reasoning behind our little detour?” he asked, slowing his pace to let Twilight catch up.
“Y-yeah,” Twilight breathed. “Midnight said it was important to, to keep ponies away.”
“That is correct, Twilight. Why, you were planning to meet us in there, were ye not?”
“Well, yeah, but we’re here, now…”
“Ah,” Peptide nodded. “Well, the Royal Terminus has for years been used for cross-border meetings. Especially for,” he glanced at Twilight, “politically-difficult ponies to bring to Lodestar itself. We have carefully cultivated a reputation for it as a place abhorrent to ne’er-do-wells, to ensure it remains free of criminal occupation.”
“But Midnight said it was ‘compromised’,” Twilight countered.
“Aye, that it is. Ye know there’s been a recent… shift in the Outlands, Twilight,” Peptide uttered. “Someponies are getting bolder. Ignoring sound advice.”
“Sorry,” Twilight said for what felt like the hundredth time that week.
Peptide waved a dismissive hoof. “The point is: you are not the only ponies that may be heading here in the hope of a safe stopping point. We can assume a great number of weary travellers seeking to cross the border will try to rest there, ahead of attempting to enter Sanctuary.”
Twilight’s hairs stood on end. “And right now…”
“…they’ll trot right into the hooves of the unsavoury types currently stationed here, yes, Twilight,” Peptide replied with a grim nod.
Twilight’s hide prickled, and she instinctively looked around. It was all she could do to stop herself from shrieking when she locked eyes with the soulless pair of goggles.
“Rooftop is clear,” Full Spectrum said as she hovered above the ground. “All HPs are accounted for inside.”
“Thank ye, Specs,” Peptide replied.
Twilight was clutching her chest as though afraid something would fall out. “Did, did you have to do that?” she wavered. “You can talk directly to Sine Wave!”
The pegasus’ head swivelled. “That is correct, Ms Sparkle,” she responded. “But a two-way conversation is only possible if Ms Wave lights her horn, and she is not ensconced in cover. In addition,” she paused to scan the buildings and treeline behind her, “the spell is an exhausting one for her to maintain. Unnecessary casting is an inefficient drain on her efforts, not to mention discourteous.”
Twilight swallowed as her breathing returned to normal. “I suppose,” she muttered, thinking of her own spell-casting efforts earlier in the week. Before all this started. A lifetime ago.
“I will rejoin you at the top. Until then, I will keep vigil. Sine Wave will tell you if I see any ponies approaching.” With that, Full Spectrum pushed off away from the ground with her hooves, sweeping up and out of sight.
“Okay, that sounds—” Twilight began as she turned back to the pegasus, to find only Peptide standing across from her, replete with a bemused expression. “…good to me?” she asked the air separating them. “She really isn’t one for hellos or goodbyes, is she?”
Peptide chuckled. “Aye, no.”
Twilight twitched.
Peptide led the group around the corner of the looming edifice, with Brazen Flame bringing up the rear. He halted the group at a seemingly random point along the wall, but the reason quickly became apparent when he reached out to the night-blackened wall and began to climb. A ladder of wrought iron, easily missed in the darkness, was rooted into the building’s towering wall, running parallel all the way up to the rooftop.
“If ye’ll all just follow me,” Peptide said, hanging one-hoofed from the ladder with surprisingly little difficulty given the cargo on his back, “we’ll get all settled in time for Midnight and Skyder to begin.”
“No need t’be shy!” Brazen called as she stood by the ladder, hoof swept out in its direction. “Peptide’ll stick his neck out first, and I’ll stay at the back and drop presents for anypony who tries t’follow!”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but this looks terribly unsafe,” Rarity said as she eyed the rust-runged metal.
“Ya know I’ll catch ya, no sweat,” Rainbow Dash said, taking to the air to become level with Peptide.
“A commendable plan,” Peptide nodded. “But if all else fails, well, we let Brazer think she goes last to respond to attacks. Truth of the matter is – she’s soft. Aim for her.”
“Har de har,” Brazen said. “Well, I only go last ‘cuz the view of you that way’s so much better than your face.”
“Come oon, we’ll miss the show! It’s a show, right?” Pinkie said, dangling upside-down above Peptide, her hind legs wrapped around the ladder.
Peptide stared up at her. Scanned the bare wall all around. Then his eyes slid to her cutie mark, its display of floating party balloons. “Alreet, then,” he said at last. “Just make sure you wait for me before going over the top, lass.”
“Can do!” Pinkie beamed back, before shooting upwards into the darkness.
“Aw, hell’s bells,” Peptide muttered. Dash held up a quick hoof before flying up in pursuit. The green stallion turned down towards the others. “Come on, everypony. Climb.”
Applejack was hot on Peptide’s hooves, and Twilight gestured for Sine Wave to follow. She wanted to be one of the last to ascend, to arrest the motion of anypony above her that happened to fall, but a look from Rarity made it clear Fluttershy was going to require a little more time. And she really didn’t want to lose sight of the others.
So up she went, trusting that the strangely jaunty earth pony mare with the ring of fire for a cutie mark would keep her friends safe on the ground.
Twilight had already promised herself she wouldn’t look down, and it only took one upward look, with the looming masonry towering above, threatening to crush her, to discourage her from looking anywhere but the rungs of the ladder. So after a minute’s methodical climbing, she was suddenly surprised to bump her head into a pair of hind legs.
“Oh!” Sine Wave squeaked above her. “Sorry, Ms Sparkle! Kinda stuck!”
Twilight braced herself, and looked up.
“I said,” Peptide was muttering to the pony above him, “ye’re gonna have to go first, but make it something of a leisurely pace, okie?”
“Huh?” Pinkie responded.
“Oh for,” Rainbow Dash blurted, “he said—mmph!”
“Shh, quiet, Dashie!” Pinkie hissed in a much louder whisper. She had the pegasus grabbed by the head, foreleg clamped around muzzle, and was somehow still maintaining her balance on the ladder. Dash’s eyes bulged. “That’s not how you play hide and seek!”
Rainbow Dash’s response was muffled, but the tone hinted plenty at its content. She rolled her eyes and took firm hold of Pinkie. Then, with a few solid beats of her wings, she carried them both up and over the edge to the rooftop.
Peptide made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, and clambered on up after them.
It wasn’t long before Twilight herself reached the top, and with a helping hoof from Peptide, finally found herself pulled up onto mercifully flat ground once more. After a moment or two spent collecting herself, she looked up from the stone.
Here, the ponies were soothed in the light that flowed onto the rooftop from the hemispherical structure ahead of them. The glass looked no younger than the rest of the discoloured building and yet, algal growths were not in evidence as Twilight might have expected for an old, unmaintained structure. She tried to imagine teams of ponies stealthing their way atop the roof to wash the glass clean. Then she reconsidered. A spell seemed far more likely. She imagined that, with all the time in the world to experiment, she would soon find a host of implanted magic all in and around this place, serving to maintain its structural integrity and serviceability as a haven for anypony that found it, even as its aesthetics decayed with the passage of time.
There was something else bugging her about it, but she didn’t have much time to consider the matter before her thoughts were pierced by a squeak and a wail. All heads snapped round as Fluttershy surged over the edge of the ladder and pancaked to the floor. “We’re under attack!”
The other Equestrians gasped, and Dash was already in full gallop. She threw herself off the edge of the building and plunged down out of sight.
“Who?” Twilight breathed. Then she twitched. “Or what?”
“D-d-don’t know, just, had to run up here quick,” Fluttershy panted.
“Ah’ll buck ‘em back down ta ground level if Ah have to,” Applejack grunted, stepping between the ladder and the pegasus. She looked over her shoulder. “They ain’t hurtin’ ya, Fluttershy.”
“Never mind,” came Dash’s voice from below. She sailed back over the edge of the roof and planted herself down with a disgruntled look. “False alarm.”
“W-what?” Fluttershy squeaked. “N-no, she said—”
“A load of rotten old lies,” Rarity said as she too scaled the wall onto the rooftop, looking extremely displeased. “Our earth pony friend has a twisted idea regarding what constitutes humour.”
“Oh,” Twilight said. Her relief didn’t really suppress the twinge of annoyance.
And she wasn’t the only one. Even as Rarity moved to comfort Fluttershy, frozen and shrunken in as she was, Applejack marched to the roof’s edge.
“That ain’t funny. Ah’m gonna give her what-for.”
“The heck you are,” Rainbow Dash said, trotting up alongside her. “Nopony messes with my friends! Leave her to me!”
“Ah said Ah’m gonna give her what-for, gosh darn it!” Applejack grunted back with a push. “Worry about yer own darn pony.”
“Fluttershy’s my friend too!” Dash said, pushing back just as much. “I’m not gonna just stand there—!”
“Well neither am Ah!”
“You can have her when I’m d—”
“Brazey!” Pinkie yelled as the mare’s head popped above the laddertop. Before Applejack and Rainbow Dash could even think about disentangling themselves, Pinkie flew across the rooftop with superpony speed, grabbed Brazen by her upper body, and dumped her down in the midst of everypony. “You scared her!” she shot at the mare as she pointed a hoof at Fluttershy.
Brazen blinked and looked up from the floor. “Well, yeah! She was taking forever, ya know? S’not safe to linger.” She hesitated as Pinkie expression was unmoved. “Really, I could easily’ve been spotting attacking ponies for real if we’d stuck around too much. Come ooon… it was a little funny,” she said, allowing herself a slight grin.
It didn’t last.
“Not Fluttershy, okay?” Pinkie said with iron, eyes locked on Brazen’s. “Only harmless pranks are fun. Harm. Less! Gottit?”
Brazen’s eyes had already lost their shine. She sighed. “Alright, alright. Sorry, Flutters. Won’t do it again.”
Fluttershy gave a faint nod, still wrapped in the forelegs of a surprised-looking Rarity. Pinkie’s lip trembled, and then she grabbed Brazen to her hooves in a hug. “Aw, thank you for doing the right thing!”
Peptide chuckled as Brazen windmilled her forehooves. “I think Brazer’s finally met her match.”
Applejack and Rainbow Dash flicked their eyes to each other.
“So, er, are you gonna…“
“Uh, Ah’m not sure Ah really need ta no more…”
“Yeah, yeah I thought so too. I guess.”
The mares’ hooves drooped off each other. Rainbow Dash scratched a spot at the back of her neck and trotted away. Applejack stole a glance at Pinkie. She couldn’t help but shudder at the resurfacing memories. Scariest mare of us all.
Twilight finally managed to tear her eyes back to the bright dome ahead.
“You don’t want to be leanin’ on the glass, but feel free to have a look,” Peptide said.
Fluttershy shrank even further into Rarity, but Dash trotted up without hesitation. “Whoa. Cool.”
Twilight stepped up herself, then staggered back as a wave of vertigo overcame her. Celestia! She hadn’t realised they’d climbed so high! It was too dark to see anywhere else, but from here, she’d have a good three or four seconds to regret her life choices if she fell through the glass. She collected herself once more, and edged rather more gingerly towards the light.
And in that moment, she realised what else had been bugging her. The glow of the dome was literally the glow of the dome. No light sources hung from the ceiling inside – none that were active, at any rate. The dome was a beacon, glowing with implanted magic, magic that served little to benefit any ponies below. Twilight squinted, and decided the only reason she could see anything at all down there was the soft glow from a box car in the middle, hinting at a dying camp fire.
Not that there was much to see. The raised concrete waiting platform running along one edge of the wall, littered with rubble, served as the intended entryway for ponies. Most of the remaining space was given over to haphazard rows of flaking, rusted old train engines and the carriages behind them. As the endpoint in what passed for the Outland rail network, the structure was station and storage shed both. Designed to house many more locomotives than could possibly serve one platform, it had a myriad of crisscrossing switching tracks to facilitate swapping trains on and off the mainline. But they were twisted far beyond original specifications, and everywhere, piles of broken stones, cracked concrete, rust, corrosion. It was less an old trainyard, Twilight thought, than a scrapyard.
She frowned and turned away. She realised Peptide was watching her.
“I, er, it’s very…” Twilight stammered.
“Like a horde of pegasi set off a tornado? Aye.”
“Well,” Rarity began, “I’m sure it was a true delight to behold in its heyday! A little spring clean is doubtless all it needs.”
“A-Actually,” Sine Wave piped up, “it’s meant to look like that.”
“For diplomatic meetings?” Rarity gaped.
“Well, yeah! Yes! Don’t want to encourage bad ponies to stay, do we? And it helps with the ghosts thing if it looks all ruined and stuff. Looks more, more ghost-y that way, you know? Ask Midnight if you want! He knows all about the deception stuff.” Sine Wave rattled off into silence.
“Where is he, anyway?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I can’t see anypony down there.”
“Ye’ll see them moving into position any second now,” Peptide stated, looking down. “Targets usually set themselves up inside one of the carriages. With a lookout or two.”
“So we won’t be able see anything?” Rainbow Dash asked, voice laced with disappointment.
“Oh, ye’ll see some. Midnight’ll want to draw them out into the open.”
“I guess,” Dash muttered, glancing half-heartedly down to the station below. “Just, don’t wanna miss anything.” She felt into silence, scanning the debris from afar. Her focus was absolute, until a tap on her shoulder turned her head.
“Here,” Specs said. Her eyes were solemn, intense and very green. Twilight wondered why she was so drawn to them, before realising she wasn’t used to seeing the mare with her googles off. They dangled from a hoof, held out in front of Dash.
“Wh… huh? Really?” Dash gaped at the enchanted eyewear.
“Yes. I no longer require them. The rooftop is clear. We control the ladder access.”
“What about pegasi?” Dash asked as she took the goggles.
Those emerald eyes never wavered. “In a word, Midnight. His spellwork is capable of protecting us from detection within a limited area. Pegasi will not be able sight us from afar. Rest assured, if we do not want to be found, Midnight can ensure it is so.”
“Awesome,” Dash grinned. She wrestled the goggles down over her eyes, letting the elastic spring into place with a snap. “Awesome! Thanks a bunch!” She gazed around like Equestria’s toothiest swimmer. “Whoa,” she said, sighting down at a foreleg. “News just in – I’m hot!”
Full Spectrum took full advantage of her exposed eyes to roll them in exquisite fashion.
“Aw, I’m just kidding,” the beaming, insect-eyed mare continued. “That’s not news!”
“This mission is hardly the time to be considering—”
“Now now, they’re our ‘honoured guests’, remember?” Brazen chuckled from behind as Specs began her retort. The mare’s zest was back in force as she grinned at her scowling colleague. “C’mon, Pinks,” she gestured towards the glass ahead, “Goggleface ain’t the only pony who can share!”
“Sharing is caring!” Pinkie beamed as she hopped into position at the edge of the glass. “Now we’re pairing for staring! I’m raring!”
“Staring at scaring, yeah,” Brazen smirked as she sat down alongside. (“Ooh, good one!”)
“There’s Midnight,” Full Spectrum said, pointing at a length of carriages running alongside the wall. Now that it had been indicated to her, Twilight could see the glowing mote that must have been the unicorn’s horn, quietly streaking its way along in the shadows.
“And Sky Dive too!” Dash said, pointing halfway up the wall on the far side, totally shrouded in blackness. “’Least I think it is.” Her head moved, tracing an invisible path across the yawning concourse to another area of shroud, partially enveloping yet another train like some encroaching, carriage-consuming black fog. “Whoever it is, he’s on that train now. Crouching low.”
“Skyder,” Full Spectrum confirmed.
“Both in position, now”, Peptide stated as Midnight reached the last carriage and paused just inside of its edge. Beyond lay dull light, and utter exposure to the line of sight of the ponies camping the box car in the centre of the room.
“It’s party time,” Brazen grinned down at the unsuspecting cabal below.
* * *
“Fucking hate this place.”
Bolt Cutter sat in the doorway of the box car. He was leaning against the sliding door-panel, long-since rusted shut in a half-open position. The side of his head was scraped in a coating of ruddy iron, worsened with every shift in position, ever-futile in his attempts to get comfortable. A little way into the car, a smouldering ash pile, a remnant of the campfire before it, glowed with residual warmth. Bolt Cutter played idly with the flick-knife strapped to his forehoof as he gazed out across the flaking tracks, rubble, dirt and darkness. His expression was a poor waxwork of bored and tired.
“Shit, really?” came a response from behind. “Why didn’t you say so eighteen fucking times before?”
“Ah, fuck you,” Bolt Cutter grunted as the voice snickered. “The fuck did I do to wind up relying on you to watch my back.”
“Feeling’s mutual, Colt Butter.”
“Whatever. Shut it, Slingshot. Do your jo—ah!”
The clang-clanging of metal falling to stone floor struck the two ponies’ ears. Bolt Cutter jerked upright. He stared. Heard his pulse thudding in his ears. There was nothing. Same rubble, same rusting tracks, same carriage over near the far wall.
“You heard that, right?”
“Yeah.”
Bolt Cutter extended the blade on his weapon, and turned his head to the side with the delicacy of an opening flower. “G-Guess we’d better go check it out,” he whispered.
“With everypony else asleep? Fuck that,” Slingshot muttered back. He turned, and kicked into the box car’s interior. There was a groan. “Wake up,” Slingshot hissed. “We gotta check something out. If we yell, wake the boss.”
A string of mumbled curses culminating in terse acknowledgement completed the exchange.
Slingshot grunted, and clambered over to the other side of the box car to slide down next to Bolt Cutter. “Fucking typical, something actually happens on a watch and I get landed without a fucking unicorn.”
“You know, I was thinking the exact same thing,” Bolt Cutter replied as he fumbled inside the bag alongside him. He pulled out a wooden stave, and thrust it into the dying embers of the fire behind. It came to light with a sound like a whipped blanket, the sticky compound in the far end burning with intensity.
“Cuum urn,” Bolt Cutter said, hopping down onto the cracked floor, torch held between his teeth. “Lesh geh’ ‘ish o-uh w’th.”
“Yeah,” Slingshot mumbled, slipping down in turn. He squinted over at the far wall. “See anything?”
“Uh-uh.”
Slingshot remained in place, rocking on his hooves a little. After a few seconds had passed, he opened his mouth with a smack. “Still I can see one advantage to having to bring the torch along know what I’m saying?” he grinned at Box Cutter.
“Urr, fugh ‘oo,” grunted his companion.
“Come on come on,” Slingshot blurted as he strode with sudden energy towards the shadowed carriage. Box Cutter scrambled to keep pace, eyes flicking down to the knife still attached to his hoof.
“Don’t fucking forget,” Slingshot muttered as they reached the car’s edge, a corner-turn away from the dark unknown, “Unicorns’re dangerous with their damn horns. Stab first, ask questions later.”
Bolt cutter nodded, and tested the locking of his knife’s blade with a hoof. Slingshot fumbled around inside a saddlebag before pulling out a sling between his teeth.
“On t’ree, right?” Slingshot mumbled, nodding his head towards the corner. “One, t—”
A tingling trill and turquoise light.
Slingshot backed up and slipped, dropping his sling. He gazed up in horror at the wall. “Shit!”
Slingshot ran, and Bolt Cutter was hot on his hooves. Behind them, in a pony-sized font, the turquoise scrawl cast a sickening glow along the wall with its ethereal light.
You were warned.
Galloping, hyperventilating, the two watchponies streaked back to their wretched box car.
“Wake up! Wake up!” Box Cutter whimpered at the ponies lying scatted inside, swathed in blissful unconscious ignorance. His voice was quiet and strained as two conflicting needs struggled to assert dominance. No reaction was forthcoming, and the sleeping ponies soon found themselves on the receiving end of rather more direct activity encouragement. “Wake the fuck up I said; we have to go!” Box Cutter hissed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of hooves striking flesh.
The pony suddenly kicked out, and Box Cutter tumbled down, a hoof lashing out to glance aside his face as he went. He fought back, his own attempts equally clumsy, and more ponies stirred, confused, disorientated, a stray blow glancing off one of them eliciting another vicious retaliatory strike, and the box car was soon a mass of panicking ponies, drugged with sleep and fighting the unknown assailants and grunting with every impact and scrabbling around for their weapons and kicking over the embers of the fire, flinging orange sparks into the smoky air—
“Fucking stop!”
Light, blinding light, stabbed into the boxcar. The ponies froze in place still wrapped around each other, and in more than one case, jaw still clamped around limb. The unicorn standing in their midst was heaving growling breaths, and her stare was liquid fire. Her horn was a dazzling white, casting stark shadows behind everypony around her.
“Pray I never find out who sat on my fucking head,” she said, with all the warmth of a lioness poised over a helpless foal’s neck. Somewhere, unseen to all, a pony ceased rubbing his behind and snapped his foreleg to a standing position. “What the fuck is going on?” she breathed.
“It’s, well we,” Box Cutter began, before his voice died in his throat and he looked to Slingshot. The explanation he’d been about to give didn’t seem close to exceptionally good enough.
“Well, Ma’am,” Slingshot began, performing an admirable job of not looking the mare in the eyes whilst appearing to do so, “we thought, uh, that the g—, the, uhm, well, the ghosts, were, uh, here. Ma’am.”
If the assembled ponies thought the mare couldn’t look any angrier, they were wrong. “You fucking idiots. Jumping at shadows, is that it?” the mare hissed.
“N-no! Ma’am! There was, like suddenly, Ma’am, it just appeared – more of that wr-writing.”
The mare stomped her forehooves down, narrowly missing the head of a pony with his forelegs wrapped around the hindlegs of another. “What did I tell you about that? Do I need to explain myself five fucking times before you idiots’ll listen? It’s a fucking spell. Like the one outside. They all are. Light up when you get near, is all. I’m a fucking unicorn, or hadn’t you noticed, you idiots?” Her horn shifted gears, and now light shone forth from both Slingshot and Box Cutter’s heads as they were dragged forward, futile in their attempts to plant their hooves. Then, with a flick of the mare’s horn, the two ponies’ heads clonked together and they crumpled to the ground.
“The fuck were you wandering around for, anyway?” the mare asked, bearing down on the two dazed individuals. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch? Or did you realise you can’t pay attention for shit?”
As Box Cutter rubbed his head, he tried hard to remember through the fog. They wouldn’t have set the writing spell off if they hadn’t gone near it, why were they—“
“A noise!” Box Cutter gasped. “We heard a noise, Ma’am! Like, a clanging noise!”
The mare continued to stare at the prostrate ponies with a searing look that had nothing to do with the light from her horn. “A metal clang? In a rusted, crumbling, dirty. Old. Shithole?”
Box Cutter and Slingshot shrivelled. Somewhere, a pony snickered.
The mare strode over the ash of the fire, and stood in the opening. She whipped her head this way and that, and fixed on the side through which the otherworldy letters still glowed out into the shades. “All of you, follow me. Now.”
Slingshot swallowed. “Razzle, Ma’am, ya don’t need—”
“Now,” the mare spat, bathing a charcoaled log in telekinetic magic and applying the hot end to the pony’s flank. Slingshot yelped and scrambled out of the car, falling face first onto the concrete. Box Cutter stumbled over him.
Razzle hopped down with barely a sound, and trotted straight past the pair. She led her cabal right up to the base of the writing with long strides, and then turned. “Just like the writing outside, you see?” she said, burning her horn even brighter. The turquoise glow withered in the intense white light, until the writing itself was barely visible, lost in the dazzle. “Ponies like us avoided this place for years, because of some stupid old proximity spell.” She glared at Box Cutter and Slingshot, who were suddenly very interested in their forehooves below them.
“Now,” Razzle continued, “we know the truth. There’s nothing here. ‘cept us, now,” she said, and for the first time the hint of a smirk began to worm its way onto her features. “And ponies’ll come here, thinking they’re safe. They’ll bring anything they don’t want taked. They’re fucking wrong.” She smiled a satisfied smile as she took a step forward, no longer backed up against the wall. “Hear noises, girls? I say, fucking good!” Her horn glowed brighter. “Means somepony’s here, and that somepony’s got presents for us all. She just don’t know it yet!” she finished with a flourish. The other ponies burst into a chattering mass of excited whispers, and Razzle smirked once more at how easily she’d nailed this leadership thing, with even those idiot lookouts seeming convinced, and—
A cacophony of clanging from the direction of their boxcar, an obscene noise, repeated notes that sped up, faster and faster and faster and louder and too loud, and Luna make it stop, and silence, and darkness.
CLANG.
Nopony breathed. A faint breeze passed over them as the mass of ponies stared at the boxcar. The air was molasses. Not a breath of movement.
Until the first poor soul turned his head to Razzle, seeking direction, only to find himself crying out instead.
Razzle was gone, and the sudden darkness was now all too explicable. With no time to adjust to the smothering blackness, the ponies were as good as blinded. But two things stood in plain sight.
The turquoise splatter on the wall, in a shape that bore an uncanny resemblance to a unicorn pony, limbs splayed.
And the addendum to the previous message, in perfect mimic of that terrible hue.
SINNERS PAY IN FLESH.
“No, no!” a pony wailed, practically sobbed, as she bolted away from the obscene promise. A gallop of hooves followed her, owners caught up in their own version of hyperventilating hysterics. Nopony looked back. Nopony saw the pony that was slowest on his hooves fail to progress more than a single hoofstep.
CLANG.
The mare galloped with all her might. Not knowing what to do or how to get there, her rational mind buried deep under the primeval screeches of flight, she charged for the shelter of the box car.
Then staggered, shrieked and dived aside as the interior pulsed turquoise, and spectral flame arced out. The ponies behind her had more time to react, and divided either side of the blue-green tongue that hissed between them and slapped to the ground, throwing up a wall of ghostly flame.
The ponies scattered in all directions.
The mare cried out in fear as she was left behind. She stumbled, tried to rise to hooves spasming in terror as her coat danced with sickening blue emerald light. She caught the merest glimpse of the shadow descending towards her. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was upon her, and her mouth was covered, her body engulfed, and she kicked and wailed in muffled terror as her hooves left the ground, and she sailed up, up, and crunched down face-first on top of the train carriage, and she was winded and had no breath to give the slightest voice to her utter horror, and after a pause, a fraction of a second that lasted an eternity, she feared no more as Sky Dive’s hoof came slamming down onto the back of her head, smashing her into the metal and out cold.
CLANG.
* * *
“Aaand three!” Brazen Flame chuckled. “Mind you, she looked ready to pass out all by herself.”
Rarity was gazing down at the spectacle with a grimace of disdain. “Must you take such joy from this? I for one find it rather cruel to terrify innocent ponies in such a manner.”
Brazen cocked an eye at the mare. “Innocent my arse. ‘f you’d gambolled in there without us stopping ya, you’d’ve seen just how ‘innocent’ they really are,” she said, pretending to throw punches at Pinkie, whose eyes followed the mare’s hooves as though attached by wire. “We ain’t doing any permanent damage. More than you could hope for if they ever got ahold of ya,” she warned. “Hell, even that fire won’t hurt ‘em.”
“Beg pardon?” said Applejack.
Brazen grinned a little. “Maybe ya didn’t see my little party trick last night. Mix of the right chemicals, ya get fire that sits on top of a film of stuff that doesn’t burn, and lasts long enough to protect anything covered in it before the fuel runs out,” she said, holding up her unscarred forehooves for inspection. “Shame these gals were quick off the mark, none of ‘em got splashed,” she said, looking back down as another writhing pony was carried up into darkness and out of sight. Rainbow Dash winced just a little a moment later. “’S fucking hilarious when they realise one of the others‘s on fire.”
Rarity snapped open her mouth at that, but paused. “You have the ability to concoct a recipe for fire that does no harm to ponies?”
Brazen nodded. “No need to sound so surprised! Mare of several talents! Several burny, explodey talents! Doesn’t mean it’s all about killing, neither! Oof! Didya see that one? He’ll be feeling that tomorrow!”
Rarity pursed her lips.
“Aw, come on, siddown and watch the show!” Brazen rattled a tub at the unicorn. “Popcorn?”
“Popcorn?!”
“Still an earth pony, missy!” Brazen grinned. “Are ya really surprised?”
Rarity eyed the burst corn kernels. “I suppose not. But I must decline, thank you.”
“Ah well. More for us, eh, Pinks?” Brazen said, offering the snack to her giggling companion.
“You guys seeing this?” Dash gaped down into the darkness below. “It’s a, it’s, a massacre!”
“Ah just hope y’all are right about them being less than agreeable-like,” Applejack added. Unlike Rarity, her expression was unreadable.
“We are, Ms Applejack”, Full Spectrum replied. “Intelligence is always gathered prior to any strike. Once our work here is complete, we can provide proof, should you desire to see it.”
“Ah’d appreciate it,” Applejack said as Twilight nodded. “Not that Ah don’t trust ya or nothin’. Ah do. Jus’ be good ta know what breed a’ vine weevils we’re dealin’ with in this here field.”
Full Spectrum nodded once.
“Almost finished,” Dash said in monotone. Twilight looked at the eyeless mare, wishing her mind wasn’t painting such a detailed picture of the scatter of unconscious bodies the pegasus must be seeing.
“Place your bets gals,” Brazen grinned. “Who’s gonna be last to go? My money’s on—uh, not her. What about him, Pinks? Yeah? Well I’m rooting for the other one. You’re going down!”
* * *
CLANG.
“Fuckohfuckohfuckingfuck!”
Bolt Cutter sped between the two rusting trains, looming black monoliths on either side of him. There was no comfort in the cover, only the claustrophobia of its funnelling. Whether through screaming heightened awareness, or mere passage of agonising time, his vision had adjusted sufficiently to allow him to gallop in the dark over piles of stones and rusted track.
It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. The others had gone, and he was next.
He whimpered. If he could just get out of here, make it to the exit and run without ever looking back, maybe the horrors wouldn’t follow.
He looked up ahead. Too late, a shape appeared between the corroded engines at the head of the carriages. Bolt Cutter gasped, stumbled, kicked up spray of stones and barrelled into the figure, knocking both it and himself to the floor.
“Fuck, no, wait, stop!”
“Fucking—Slingshot, that you?”
“Oh, oh, oh! Bolt Cutter, it’s you!” The stallion leapt back to his hooves. “Getting the fuck out of here, yes?”
“Fuck yes,” Bolt Cutter panted.
“Come on!” Slingshot said, galloping around one of the trains and into darkness once more. Box Cutter followed, trying not to think about the number of trains they still needed to wind between before reaching the platform, the exit, and sweet safety. His legs burned with the effort of his full-throttle gallop, but Slingshot was managing no less screaming a pace, and Bolt Cutter had no intention of moving at anything other than flat-out until the Royal Terminus was far behind him.
“Shit!” Slingshot exclaimed as the far end of their train-flanked corridor ignited in that grotesquely familiar blue-green flame.
Bolt Cutter skidded to a halt, and stared in an out-of-body stupor. They were dead.
“We’re sorry, alright!” Slingshot squeaked in desperation into the black air as he looked around fruitlessly. “An’ we’re l-leavin’! J-just let us go, an’ we’ll—this way!” Slingshot charged forward a few hoofsteps, and threw his weight against a partially-open boxcar door. It shrieked in rusting protest, but opened wide enough to admit a pony. Box Cutter ran forward as Slingshot slipped inside, and clambered through the opening after him.
“Just gotta open this one, and we’ll be out the other side. C’mon, help!”
“I’m trying!”
Once again, the door moved with extreme reluctance. Even as the pair wrenched one last ear-piercing time, a clanging sound began from right behind them.
“OhshitGO!”
Bolt Cutter half-jumped, half-fell out of the doorway and onto dusty rubble. He scrambled away from the box car, pausing only once he’d put some distance between it and himself. He turned to watch the other pony jump out after him.
“Half a train to go!” Box Cutter gasped, and his companion nodded in the darkness. The two took off in one final gallop, even as another CLANG echoed behind them.
“If I never hear that fucking sound again, it’ll be too fucking soon!” Box Cutter blurted as they kicked over a pile of stones. A grunt of acknowledgement in response.
Something leapt between the rooftops of the carriages ahead, from shadow to shadow.
“You see that? Fucking run!” Box Cutter wailed, speeding even faster. His companion kept pace, and now they were ready to round the last carriage onto the platform.
Where that thing had headed.
Box Cutter slowed to a halt, and peered around the corner. The platform was there off to the side, a short ramp leading up off the tracks. He saw nothing moving, but felt the breeze from the exit just beyond. He yearned for it, like nothing he’d ever craved before.
“Just run for it, okay?” Box Cutter breathed. “See you out there.”
The pony behind nodded. Then suddenly jerked as though slapped. “Over there!” he gasped, pointing away from the platform, into the dark corner of the concourse.
Box Cutter spun. All was blackness. “Where, whe—mrgh!”
The forehooves locked around his head at the same time as the damp cloth clamped over his muzzle, enveloped in golden magic. He kicked and struggled, but out of breath as he was, he couldn’t avoid taking muffled breaths of the vapours instilled in the fabric. Soon his eyes rolled back in his head, his limbs sagged, and he was still.
Midnight Phase loosened his grip, and Box Cutter slid to the floor. Sky Dive landed with a light crunch in front of him. Slingshot was long gone, splayed on top of a box car.
“I was going to take him,” growled the pegasus.
“You were hitting them harder and harder, Skyder.”
The stallion was still in the darkness. “No less than they deserve.”
“You know why it’s done this way, old friend. Let’s get them outside.”
Sky Dive stood in silence a moment longer. Then with a single nod, he took to the air.
Midnight looked down at the pony slumped by his hooves. With a tingle of magic, he levitated the square cloth up to eye level, folded it twice, and placed it inside a saddlebag. Then he plucked the limp body into the air on golden threads, and floated it alongside him. He began his walk to the exit at a gentle trot, without as much as a backward glance.
The pony’s hooftips brushed the stonework.
* * *
“Fuckers,” Brazen Flame said as she hopped down from the ladder’s final rung. Everypony was accounted for at the bottom, save Full Spectrum, who was maintaining her usual vigil on the air currents above, and Sky Dive, still performing the last of his duties at the front of the Royal Terminus building. “You made me lose my bet.”
Pinkie giggled. “And now I gotta think of a forfeit!”
“By the Powers,” Brazen shook her head. “Beginner’s luck is all.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Twilight said, looking at Pinkie with a resigned expression on her face.
Pinkie just grinned. “I’m sure I’ll think of something sometime somewhere! Then you gotta do it! It’s the ruu-uules!” she trilled.
“Rules in Anarchy,” Brazen chuckled. “We’ll see.”
Sky Dive swooped down and landed next to Midnight like a coiled spring. From his jaw dangled a strap, attached to a saddlebag none of the Equestrians recognised. “They’re all laid out, Midnight,” he said, causing the bag to drop to the ground with a clink. “And searched.”
“Thanks, Skyder,” Midnight replied. With a golden gleam, his horn caught light. Item after item floated from the bag. “Here’s what our friends there were carrying,” he said.
The Equestrians’ eyes widened as the assortment of weapons became apparent. There were the usual suspects like knives, switchblades, brass horseshoes and slings. But there was more. A spiked flail, something that looked horribly like a large corkscrew, and even what appeared to be a unicorn’s crossbow.
Midnight waited until all six ponies broke eye contact with the levitating arsenal and started to fidget. Then he drew the floating implements back into a single line, and snapped them into one like a deck of cards. He packed them away out of sight.
“An’ we were gon’ canter into that,” Applejack said, a lump in her throat.
“Most were naïve, foolish,” Midnight explained. “Whipped into a clique by their leader, Razzle. Do not judge them too harshly,” he said, tossing his head. “Some feel they have nowhere else to turn. All they require is a little, encouragement, to see that crime doesn’t pay,” he finished, with the merest hint of a grin.
Twilight blinked. Was this the Lodestar version of Sanctuary’s rehabilitation programme? Correction of behaviour through supernatural fear? She wasn’t sure she liked what she was hearing.
“Ah judge,” Applejack grunted. “Ain’t no excuse.”
“Agreed, Ms Applejack,” Midnight responded. “Nopony was permitted to escape our demonstration tonight. They have been shown the error of their ways.”
“So what happens to them now?” Twilight pressed.
Midnight turned. “We leave them. Leave them with the memory of what it is to anger the spirits of Anarchy. A memory that lasts a lifetime. Longer. It’s something they’ll tell their foals about.” He grinned. “And so, the dark legend of the Royal Terminus continues.”
“Can we go now, please?” Fluttershy whispered from the back.
Midnight paused, then reassumed an expressionless mask. “Of course. Thank you for your patience, Equestrians. This detour will save a number of good ponies a great deal of grief.”
Twilight let out her breath. Uncomfortable though she was at the overload of new experiences, that was definitely one thing she could take solace in. And how disciplined must these ponies be, she suddenly realised, not to have lost sight of the right thing, even as they must be reeling from their own loss?
She welcomed the genuine smile that spread its warmth across her face. “Thank you all, too, for helping to keep innocent ponies safe. I know they’d appreciate it.”
“Welcome!” Sine Wave blurted, before clamping her forehooves over her muzzle.
“Did we just get a thank-you?” Brazen blinked. “Gee, maybe serving under a Royal dictatorship ain’t so bad!”
Twilight’s friends twitched, but she just shook her head at the absurdity of it all. I’m not the boss of anypony.
“That’s enough, Brazer,” Midnight said, and then turned. “Come, we can make good progress towards the village by sunrise.”
Twilight followed for a few steps before drawing up short. “Village?”
* * *
Box Cutter yelped and sat bolt upright.
He took in sharp breaths of cold air. His posture was rigid. After a moment’s frozen pause, he dared to slide his eyes around in the darkness.
Where the hell was he?
He could feel the blades of grass underneath him. Outside, then.
Did he make it after all? So hard to remember…
He looked up, reassuring himself with the sight of the stars. He recognised part of the glowing dome of the Royal Terminus, towering above.
Outside, but not far enough. Seeing that cursed place was too damn close.
He picked himself up, and shivered. He didn’t make it far before he tripped over something, and fell. He gasped at the same time as it did.
“Who… who’s there?” he croaked from the floor, wincing.
A bright light was his answer as Razzle lit her horn. Her eyes were wide, and her pale face was the picture of shell-shock.
“Something… something took me.”
Box Cutter shuddered and looked away, and it was then that he glimpsed the others.
They were laid out in neat rows. Rows, he realised, he and Razzle had been a part of. They lay on their backs, forehooves crossed on their chests.
Like bodies lying in state.
“I don’t… I don’t…” Box Cutter breathed. He remembered, now. Something had grabbed him, too. He’d passed out. A fact he was deeply grateful for. “What does it mean?”
“It means,” Razzle whispered as some of the ponies began to stir, many jerking awake with a gasp just like Box Cutter had, “we’ve had our warning.”
There were sporadic whimpers of exchanged words as more ponies regained consciousness. One by one they recovered from the initial shock, and galloped into the forest. Soon only the supine Slingshot remained.
Razzle watched them go with dazed detachment. “I’m done. Never coming here again. You got any sense, you’ll do the same.”
She left. Stupefied, slow paces. She traced a straight line, but her direction was aimless. Anywhere but here.
Box Cutter was alone. He shivered again.
He turned to the Royal Terminus. It loomed there, loomed as it always had done.
He licked his lips.
“Thank you.”
With that, he turned and headed away, silently receding to join his watchpony companion.