//------------------------------//
// Varado 
// Story: A War 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

Dawn.
Armored guards restrained the grappling Crystals, dragging them out of the complex as they cried and trashed around, begging.
Journalists snapped pictures of the distraught refugees pulled down the steps.
Behind the entire group, several guards carrying and inspecting a few crossbows while a few more were carrying downed comrades on stretchers.
A crowd had gathered at the complex's entrance, causing gridlock down the line, and even the ponies at the carriages alighted to join in the throng.
Cash Heeled pushed his way through the crowd, through the collective cacophony of voices, and forced himself to the front.
Face to face with a Crystal pony gripped tight by his escort.
"Please!" he screamed, reaching a hoof out to the unicorn.
He turned his head here and there. "What's happening? What's going on?"
"We found out that they brought in a box of crossbows for themselves," his escort guard said. "I told the likes of you that this was gonna happen, but you didn't listen!"
"I was trying to be nice!" Cash shouted.
"You dare go against the guard of Equestria?"
"It would be wrong of me to withold my kindness and generosity to others!" he said, eyeing the Crystal pony with a tender expression. Still addressing the guard: "If you were in their place and I ignored you—even kicked you down!—would you like it?"
"I would not smuggle in weapons meant for the military," the guard said, holding out a hoof against Cash. "Step aside. You don't have any say here. You're dealing with verified criminals."
"Where's the proof?!" Cash yelled.
"Yeah, where's the proof?!" another voice roared from the crowd.
The guard pulled out a letter and showed it to everyone there. "This is a letter written from an unknown source, written to the Crystal ponies there to stash the weapons somewhere until the 'right time', as it's stated here. We all know what that means."
"Let me see it for myself!" Cash shouted as he yanked the letter from him.
Saw it, read it.
"Forgery!" Cash declared, holding the paper up in the air for all to see. "I say that this is a forgery written to bring shame upon the name of Equestria and our friendship!"
"I did not become a guard to let these rascals slip from my hooves!" the guard exclaimed, yanking the letter back.
Punched his prisoner with a hoof.
"You're not gonna let him—"
The millionaire and the guard brawled, throwing punches and kicks against each other.
Until the other guards separated the two from each other.
"Let me at 'im!" Cash cried out, trying to wrestle his way out of their grip.
"Careful with what you say!" the first guard said, pointing at him. "Go too far, you might show your true colors and reveal yourself to be an accomplice—if you're one, that is."
Cash bared his teeth and growled.
Walked away.
The guard beat his prisoner another time in front of the crowd. "You're gonna regret it, shiny eyes."



It was clean in the cold room.
Nothing else but a table and a light and a door.
And two chairs.
The Crystal pony on one side, a mare wearing a tie on the other.
Holding papers and documents.
"If you're innocent, you have the chance to redeem yourself."
The orange mare, a unicorn, had earrings and thick, curly mane. Her muzzle was squarer than most others.
"If you're guilty, then you have no chance."
The Crystal gulped.
He was a red Crystal pony, having light brown hair and red eyes, eyes with those many-sided reflections.
"I'm innocent, I'm telling you!" he said, those eyes hurtling round.
"Words aren't enough," the mare said, floating a pre-inked quill and a notepad. "I need proof."
He twirled his head around. "I came here with nothing! What proof could I give you?"
"A testimony would be fine."
"How will you know if I'm lying?" he went on, voice quivering. "Even if I tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth, you'd just throw it away because I'm a Crystal pony who woke up near suspicious things!"
"I have my ways," the mare said. "If I tell you how I can tell, that would defeat the purpose of it."
Her horn kept glowing. She was peering at him.
He gulped.
She read the first paper. "Your name's Crystal Varado, yes?"
He nodded, lips trembling.
"Born...well, over a thousand years ago, but you've been transported to the present so I guess age is irrelevant—it wasn't that important for this investigation, anyway."
He laughed nervously.
"You used to work as a wheat farmer back a thousand years."
Nodded.
"Then, in this time, you mastered cooking."
Nodded.
"Your family?"
He flinched.
"Are under Sombra's control, and you're the only one who escaped before the war."
One solemn nod, any trace of a smile disappearing.
"You joined the Crystal pony community here exactly a week after and you've stayed in Rose Quartz's house until the Crystal Pony Complex was finished."
Nodded.
"After that, you've done nothing officially significant. Is that correct?"
Nodded again.
"Where were you this morning?"
"I was...I was sleeping in the first floor bedrooms. My room was 103. I was one of the breakfast cooks for the day—we were in a cycle—so I walked to the kitchen with the other cooks. Then, when we opened the two b-boxes and saw the w-weapons...none of us didn't know what to do. A lot of us wanted to report it immediately to security. Few said that Princess Celestia had talked about training us in the near future for self-defense...they thought the guards would announce our training schedule later today."
Breathed in, breathed out.
"That's when the guards burst in. Night Knight—he panicked. Imagined they were thieves breaking in. So, he got one of the crossbows, fired at them, and..." smacked himself on the head. "None of us knew that we had explosive arrows! Good thing they're not dead, but...that was the tipping point. After that, the rest of them swarmed in, and we didn't want to cause any more trouble. Knight was the first one to hold his hooves up and surrender."
A mournful sigh.
"You know what happened next, miss."
The mare scrawled some lines on the notepad.
He held his breath.
"What you've said here..." the mare began, "it doesn't contradict the other testimonies I've heard."
He smiled and clasped his forehooves. "Does this mean I get to leave now?"
She glared at him. "Not yet. This could mean that you're really innocent and somepony's trying to frame you for his or her own purposes. Or, this could mean that you've colluded amongst yourselves to make sure that your testimonies won't be obviously fake—but, still fake."
"Can you give us the benefit of the doubt?" he asked, retracting his forehooves from the table.
"Everypony is quite furious about it," she said. "More than half of Canterlot's in protest. They're throwing out Hoity Toity again even though he has absolutely no involvement in the complex. If we discover unquestionable evidence that you''re innocent and say that you won't go to jail, they'll still want you in jail."
"You could do something to fix this!" Varado pleaded, eyes moist. "Give us what we deserve! If we're guilty, send us to jail or the frontlines or even back to the Crystal Empire to be treated as a traitor deserves! If we're innocent, then let us live and be free in this beautiful Equestria!"
The mare levitated the notepad and the quill down. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait for judgment just like the rest of your friends."
The door glowed and opened.
Revealing a narrow hallway of Crystal ponies sitting on chairs, hunched up.
The two ponies in the room stood up.
"Everything will be fine," she said, putting the papers and documents into a large bag.
Walked with him to the hallway before locking the door and then going out.



It was dark outside, night having fallen a few hours ago.
The tie-wearing mare walked into an alley lit up by the few lights of the windows up high.
Littered with boxes, garbage, and food dumpsters from which reeked a horrid stink.
Saw a ragged pony sitting by one of those dumpsters.
"Agent Drops," she said, approaching the ragged pony.
"Agent Masala," Sweetie Drops replied, standing up.
"Your turn. I'll head to Manehattan immediately to report." She pulled out a perfume and a comb from her bag. "Here. Use this to freshen up."
Sweetie Drops sprayed herself with the perfume; combed her mane and combed her tail.
"Also, this."
Masala brought out a little box. On it was the generic label, "Makeup Kit".
"I'll stand guard," she said, "make sure that we don't blow our own cover."
Sweetie Drops nodded and grabbed the kit. "Thanks, Saffron. It's about time I show my high-class lingo around here."
Saffron Masala nodded back and removed her tie. "I'll be on my way when you're done. I hope I don't come home too late after reporting. Father is expecting me to be back by eleven."



The anteroom was decent enough for staying in. A lone guitarist strummed his instrument, producing a lonesome tune. His audience was mostly made up of Crystal ponies and not that many were paying him any attention to begin with.
A modest bookshelf stood on the wall. An easel was present, currently occupied by a Crystal artist who was painting a portrait of the bookshelf over there.
The rest of them were talking with each other.
There were three doors in the room. The first two made up the double doors that, according to the plaque above it, led to "The Courtroom". The other door was a single door, the designated entrance to the anteroom.
Which was opened up by a mare wearing a fancy hat and some jewelry.
"Bonsoir, my friends!" she greeted in a haughty accent, waving a hoof at the Crystal ponies there.
Who waved back awkwardly, giving her strange smiles.
They looked at the basket that she was holding, loaded with chocolates, peanut brittles, liquorice, and jelly beans.
Her cutie mark: a liquorice-topped muffin.
"Au fond, you must be famished out of the stress you all are enduring, no?" she said. "En effet, I've brought some sweets to cheer you up en ami!"
The Crystal ponies got up from their chairs and gathered around the candypony who plopped down a bag and a foldable table which she unfolded to its full length.
"I've come here à grands frais to supply you with sweetening nourishment!" the mare declared, spreading out the rest of her confections on the table. "Peace of mind for each and every one!"
Crystal Varado, among the crowd, raised a hoof.
Everyone looked at him.
"You're not charging us, are you?" he asked.
The mare let out a quaint giggle and covered her mouth while she did so. "Qui va la, thinking that I am only out to get money? Incroyable! Yet, my actions will speak for themselves—" and spread her forehooves out, directing everyone's attention to the table and its candies.
The Crystal ponies there voiced their amazement in "Woah!'s" and "Wow!'s". They grabbed as much candy as they could, making sure that they would share amongst themselves.
The only pony who did not go to the table was the lone guitarist who was set on creating some music no matter what, though his mouth watered and his eyes did look at the table.
"Soon, you will realize how even an act described as simpliste could serve a great need," the mare finally announced before she galloped to the other side of the table and spread out even more candy, laughing all the way.
Varado stuffed his mouth full of jelly beans.
Explosion of apple flavors in his mouth.
The talk around him grew livelier, smiles around.
While not noticing the candypony write a few sentences on her notepad.



That candypony walked her way past narrow and infrequent roads, under the flashy streetlights and window lights, back to the alley.
A whiff of that perfume lingered, though faint against the dominating stink.
The same boxes, garbage, and food dumpsters.
Beside the dumpster, a bucket of water.
"Ah," she said, walking toward it. "She may be punctual, but she never forgets her back-up plans. Good for a rookie."
The candypony doused herself with the water.
Her muffin cutie mark disappeared, only for her real cutie mark of three wrapped candies to appear.
"Who knew having a funny accent and sprinkling your speech with showy terms would trick almost everypony?" Sweetie Drops shrugged. "They don't call it a classic for nothing. Now..." she tapped her chin, "time to put on the next disguise." Then, shrugged again. "Or not."
Sighed.
Slumped her shoulders as she sat on the ground, in the alley.
Beside the food dumpster and the bucket of no water.
"Lyra wouldn't recognize me even if I wasn't disguised." Growled. "Why did I sign up for this, anyway? Oh, that's right—I didn't. It was all subtle, secret stalking and watching until they get to you." She held on to her head, gripping it hard. "If only..."
A galloping figure past the alley.
"Huh?"
Drops got up, put her shades on, and ran out of the alley.
Chasing the shadowy figure.
Down the street, avoiding the streetlights.
Only a little more than an outline.
"Stop right there!" Drops yelled.
The figure turned his head.
Galloped further forward.
Leaped across the road.
Dashed under trees, round one more, swung across the road.
"You look guilty!" Drops shouted, catching up.
Running faster.
Tripped.
Fell down.
Hooves cuffed.
"What?!" Cash Heeled shouted. "I was just running away from you! I was scared!"
"Scared of what, excatly?" Drops said, helping him stand up under a streetlight's glow by the junction. A pretty park was across the street, and a few tall apartment-style houses led up to it. "Scared of getting arrested?"
"You don't know who you're dealing with, ma'am!" he lashed out.
"You're Cash Heeled," she said. "And, acting very extravagant during your time in the complex...that equals very suspicious in my book."
A dark window lit up on one of the houses, a silhoeutte galloping down some stairs.
"So what?" Cash said, pointing at her—or tried to before he tripped and fell down again.
Drops helped him up again. "I haven't heard of you. None of us have heard you before you made your big splash weeks ago. Your forged records in the Canterlot Archives made us doubt your credibility, but after talking with some of the Crystals themselves after your little spectacle this morning—" checked her watch "—yesterday morning, it all but confirmed everything."
She held up a metal tip.
"Wh-What is that?"
"Removes all disguise spells." She smirked. "Having a Crystal spy work against his own? Clever."
Pressed the tip.
It glowed at him.
He screamed as a green glow enveloped him.
Then, the glow was gone.
Cash Heeled was gone.
In his place: Pharynx.
Drops gasped, putting the tip into her mane. Took a step back. "It's worse than I thought. It's a changeling!"
Pharynx hissed out at her, lunged a hoof at her.
Caught mid-air.
Grappled.
Slapped him on the head.
Sent flying at the door of the house, breaking it.
Door opened.
A.K. Yearling gasped at the sight of it, adjusting her glasses as she leaned closer to the new creature before her.
Sweetie Drops ran up the stairs to the entrance, closed and locked the door, and kicked the unconscious changeling a bit farther down the illuminated wooden hallway.
She looked at the robed and cowled writer. "Oh. It's nice meeting you, Miss Yearling."
Yearling tapped her hoof. "I would like the perfect explanation for this one, whoever you are. I'm busy with a few things myself."
Drops placed a bag of bits on the shelf near the door, went through the whole hallway and closed the rest of the doors there.
Yearling stood there, watching her while holding a face of disgust and confusion.
Drops returned to her. "Long story short: A changeling has been impersonating a super rich pony and was using the influence and wealth he could get to undermine Equestria, to cause lots of trouble to make it ready for a decisive strike by the Changeling Hive. Attacking Equestria while it's at war would further drain not only our resources but also our morale. That is smart on Chrysalis's part, and that's why it's great that I've got him pinned down." Motioned to the unconscious changeling.
Yearling pursed her lips. "Why should I believe you? About this whole changeling thing?"
Drops pulled out her badge and ID. "S.M.I.L.E. business."
Yearling shook her head, fearful. "I know what this means...you're going to wipe my memory of this whole thing, aren't you?"
Drops nodded, glancing at the unmoving changeling body between them. She threw a small bat at a nearby cabinet top. "The bits are for the repairpony I'll be sending up to fix your door. You'll tell him that somepony tried to rob your house—that will be the only thing you'll remember out of this."
Yearling pondered, looking up. "If it's for the safety of Equestria, then I'm in."
Drops raised an eyebrow, giving her an odd look. "Strange. I was expecting a maverick author like you to defy authorities. Obedient ponies like you are hard to come by these days."
She pulled a metal tip out of her mane.
Pressed it.
Glowed.



Yearling galloped under the morning sun, galloping to the bookstore.
Smelled the musty smell of books inside.
"Oh, hello," Well Read greeted at the counter, her smile glittering with her glasses. "How may I help—"	
She slammed a book on the counter and snorted. "Do you have a history of who bought this book?"
"Um...not really. Isn't 'Rivers and Streams' a niche book, anyway?"
Yearling groaned. "I don't care if it's niche! The fact is, it's here and I need to know where are the rest of the copies floating around Equestria!"
Well Read removed her glasses and faced the writer with a serious look. "I don't know. But, here's what I can tell you: It's printed about less than a thousand copies in its first and only printing so far, so a list would be easy to create."
"Do you have such a list?" Yearling prodded.
"Why are you asking me?" she asked back, cowering. "You should be asking the librarians in those massive national libraries!"
"I did," Yearling replied, her voice reduced to quiet. "The only copies they had and have now are historical copies, bound up in the Archives for historical purposes."
"Well, I said it was a niche book," the librarian replied. "Are you looking for someone who you knew had the book?"
"A list of possible candidates, yes," Yearling said. Sighed. "Do you remember anyone who's bought a copy?"
The librarian looked up, scratching her mane with her hoof and adjusting her glasses with magic. "There was this one mysterious pony. Always wearing a cloak around her. I know she's a mare and she's a unicorn." Pause, facing Yearling. "Does her description match?"
"Close. Any other takers?"
"Hmm." Another look up. "A stallion. Kind of short. Very short, but his hat made up for it."



The Cremelloton countryside was pristine with its mixture of rolling flatlands and hilly landscapes. Pegasi above were arranging the clouds, following orders from both their pegasus supervisors and their Earth pony coordinators who were down on the ground. Dirt paths cut the countryside into parts, and the casual carriage galloped by.
With the pegasi flying, birds chirped in formation.
One of the farms there had a house surrounded by a tall wooden wall. In fact, the house itself could not be seen unless one were to fly above it and get an overhead view.
Behind the wall, a lot of ponies—most of them a hue of blue—were building contraptions: ramparts, catapults, trebuchets, boats, wagons, mini houses. The din of construction filled the air and caused A.K. Yearling to plug one of her ears with her wing as she stood before a kind of short—very short—stallion with a tall hat.
They both stood at the house's entrance.
"Ya' see," he continued in a loud rural drawl above the din, rubbing his thick beard, "I bought the book 'cause I wanted us McColts to learn 'bout irrigation. There were tips about settin' the system up, but it's all about some kind o' time traveling theory an' what not!"
"What did you do with it?" she asked by shouting, before stepping aside as several Earth ponies carried a log out of the house and into the outside.
"I sent it to a kind pegasus," he said, looked a little away. "She did her best here 'fore she was no longer needed."
"What did she do?" Yearling inquired, raising her voice.
A thoughtful gaze to the wall, seeing his family and relatives build and build. "Was a sheep shearer, and did a mighty good job at it. Then, she tried to make us 'cept our differences, compromise, and move on. Told us we were livin' together on the same property, so, 'cordin to her, the McColts an' the Hooffields should make up."
Grimaced.
"They know what they did." Grumbled.
Yearling avoided his grimace.
"I told her we're only cooperatin' 'cause our homes in Smokey Moun'ains were taken over. It was uneasy all the way here, an' that's that for the two o' us." Stopped, looking at the side and seeing more of his family and relatives building. "After I explained everythin', she argued. No choice but to send her back." Chuckled. "Actu'lly, we McColts and the Hoofields also agreed on another thing."
She blinked. "What would that be?"
"Crossin' the Celestial Sea to the Dragon Lands."
Yearling balked and gulped. "You'll what?"
"Ya' heard me loud an' clear," he said. "We're goin' to the Dragon Lands if the situation gets dire. If Canterlot falls, we're movin' in with the dragons."
"You're...you're crazy!"
"But, I'll survive an' you probably won't, considerin' you don't have the wings to fly over the ocean."
Yearling glanced away, hiding a smirk. "By the way, what's that shearer's name?"
"One word." A pause. "Fluttershy."
The writer looked on.



"This is her house," a blue-maned pegasus said as she and Yearling walked on the cloudy sidewalk beside the cloudy street to a cloudy house with its cloudy lawn.
Yearling took a good look of it. "You're sure this is the place?"
"I should know. I've known her for some time before she had to go out and do her animal job."
"Alright, Sunshower," Yearling said, walking up the cloud path still decorated with little columns.
Knocked on the door.
Door quickly opened.
"Hi!" Zephyr said, covered in bandages and bruises, waving a hoof. Grinning.
His grin disappeared right then.
"Oh. I thought you were Rainbow Dash wearing a very cheap disguise."
Yearling smacked his head on to the door frame.
"Ow!" Zephyr said, rubbing his bandage-afflicted face. "That's where Rainbow hit me fifty-seven times when we finally did meet!" Looked up; a smile. "The memories..."
Yearling groaned.
Sunshower giggled on the sidewalk. "That's Zephyr for you."
Yearling grabbed him by the neck.
"Woah, woah, woah!"
"Tell me where Fluttershy is," Yearling said. "Just that. Nothing more, OK?"
Zephyr nodded.
Yearling let him go and he fell to the cloudy floor.
"Ow! Again!"
He hobbled, getting up.
"Isn't it obvious that I'm not healthy at the moment?"
Yearling rolled her eyes.
"OK! She's in Ponyville, working for some apple farmpony or someone else."
"Ponyville?! I-I started my journey for the owner in Canterlot!"
She started off, walking away from him.
"Bye-bye!" Zephyr said, waving at her.
Sunshower looked at him. "Nice try."
She opened her wings and flew, accompanying the walking Yearling.



"'Farmpony', eh?"
Yearling gawked at what was before her now.
Sweet Apple Acres.
There were acres, there were apples, but the smell radiating out of the open jars on the table was anything but sweet.
She coughed, walking past the arched metal entrance with a wooden sign hanging under with its apple symbol carved out.
The barnhouse was under renovation, scaffolded by several construction ponies removing wood piece by piece and replacing them with brick and mortar. On the roof, a smokestack was being formed by more construction ponies laying bricks and mortar, too.
Over in the scenery, the trees' leaves were orange, some already half empty.
On the side, beside the table of open jars, were various ponies shearing sheep with their manual blades and electric hoofpieces. Snips and snaps interspersed all over as the shearers continued to remove the wool from the sheep whose unshorn friends alternated looks between their shorn fellows and the shearers themselves.
Perhaps dreading it all.
Yearling walked up to the group of shearers and their sheep.
No one noticed her, not even giving her a fleeting glimpse.
"What can I do for ya'?"
Yearling turned around. "I'm looking for a pegasus named Fluttershy."
"Fluttershy?" Applejack repeated. She was wearing her hairnet on both her mane and her tail. "Let me see."
She pulled out a list from her small saddle bag.
"Here. I don't have time to mem'rize who's who. Don't ya' be doing anythin' fishy."
Applejack walked back into the barnhouse through the big open doors where several crates and boxes could be seen along with parts of conveyor belts.
Yearling scanned the list.
Pocketed the list.
Walked over to the first pegasus in the group.
She was yellow and her face was dirty with dirt. Her pink mane was scruffy and her tail was shortened and also scruffy. While she hovered over the ground, she was shearing a sheep.
There was a little line of sheep before that one, waiting their turn.
Yearling walked to her, fixing the hat on her own head and her glasses, too.
Fluttershy remained busy with the sheep who was almost completely shorn.
"May I have a word with you, Fluttershy?"
"Eep!"
Dropped her blade.
Grabbed it.
Shivering, trembling.
Slowly turned to face her. "Wh-What is it? Oh, did I h-hurt—" turned to face the sheep "—did I hurt you?"
The sheep shook her head.
Fluttershy faced Yearling again. "I-I'm sorry, but n-not now. Is it urgent?"
"I could wait until your shift is done. Sunset?"
"Th-That would be f-fine."
Fluttershy returned to shearing the sheep, rejoining her shearing co-workers.
Yearling walking away, though keeping her eye on that pegasus, that Fluttershy.