//------------------------------//
// The Prince Gets All Washed Up 
// Story: The Prince of Ponyville 
// by Kavonde 
//------------------------------//

	Death was different than how Blueblood had imagined it.  He'd always pictured soft, velvety blackness, cool to the touch but wonderfully comfortable.  He thought he'd drift along in eternal contentedness, his mind clear of distraction, just existing in the void.

Alternatively, he'd be damned to Tartarus with the rest of Equestria's great villains, sent to suffer some ironic punishment until the end of time itself.  Maybe he'd live in a world where everypony loved and adored him, and he couldn't get a second's privacy.  Maybe his punishment would just be to live his current life over and over again.  Either one seemed suitably torturous.

Either way, he certainly hadn't expected it to look like the inside of a ceremonial chamber.  Yet, here he lay, unable to move, in the middle of yet another arcane circle scribed with malicious glyphs and symbols.  This one was inked with something dark and red that smelled like copper.  Some strange incense curled the hairs inside his nostrils as well, likely emanating from one of several braziers arranged about the room.  They all burned with greenish flame, of course.  Couldn't damned well have a normal-looking fire in a creepy ceremonial chamber.

Something about the entire place looked familiar.  Not just because it was yet another situation in which Blueblood found himself inadvertently involved with an occult ritual, though.  Something about the way lines of calcium deposits marked the walls, or how everything was arranged just so... it all struck him with a profound sense of déjà vu.

This was compounded tenfold when his mother walked into the room, a swaddled infant across her back.

Radiant Star looked around nervously, her eyes passing right over and through Blueblood.  I'm back in my memory again, he surmised.  But how?  The anxious unicorn mare walked slowly to the center of the arcane circle, careful not to smudge any of the lines or runes, and used her telekinesis to gently lift the child she carried off of her and down to the ground, right in its center.  Blueblood looked awkwardly at his younger self, currently resting in his own chest.  Summoning his will, he imagined himself to be standing to the side of the circle.  No need to witness what happened next from the first person.

"In fact, I see little reason to witness this at all," he said aloud.  "What's going on?  Who is doing this?  And why?"

Nopony answered.  Blueblood sighed and turned away.  "You're wasting your time!  I've already seen this.  This is when my mother cursed me to become a 'vessel of disharmony' or what have you.  Just let me get back to drowning in a river, if you please."

Behind him, his child self began to whimper.  "It's okay, Blue-Blue," his mother cooed.  "Don't cry.  Mommy's right here."

"It's almost as if he knows what's coming," someone giggled.  Radiant and Blueblood both turned to see Chrysalis, clad in a tattered, black cloak that all but concealed her features, enter the chamber.  "I don't blame the poor boy for crying, do you?"

Radiant tried to hide a wince.  "It's for the best."

"Yes, I'm sure," Chrysalis agreed mildly.  "We will begin shortly.  You should get dressed."

"Okay."  She bit her lip, hesitating.  "Could you... keep an eye on him?"

"Oh, I plan to."

Radiant shot the changeling queen a concerned look, then turned to her son and kissed him on the forehead.  "I'll be right back, Blueblood."

Chrysalis watched her go, smirking from under her hood.  "She's far too emotional.  She's going to get herself killed."

A striking little creature dropped lightly from a darkened crevasse in the ceiling.  Like Chrysalis, it wore a black robe, though the hood was thrown back to reveal a ghost-white face with a black nose and two dark circles framing luminescent orange eyes.  A black-and-white striped tail curled out behind it, idly twitching as the thing spoke.  "As long as it happens after the ritual, yes?"

"True enough, Tiktak."

The tiny monkey-thing scowled up at her.  "It is Tiktaktagana!  I shall remind you no more."

"I'm trembling," Chrysalis told him dryly.

"You should," Tiktak assured her.  "Many underestimate my people.  Few do so twice."

"The lemurs are widely feared back home."  All eyes turned to another newcomer, this an aged zebra mare, one eye covered with a black patch and evidence of hundreds of old scars crisscrossing her body.  She limped unsteadily on three legs, her right front one torn jaggedly away at the knee and covered with lumpy tissue.  "From their victims, they make vests of bone.  Those who live near the trees know fear when scouts report that they are near."

Tiktak grinned, revealing a mouth full of broken, yellow teeth.  "Ahh, Zujada.  You speak reason to the changeling queen."

The zebra nodded respectfully and glanced at her missing foreleg.  "Power alone is a fleeting thing.  Never underestimate ruthless cunning."

Chrysalis made a thoughtful sound.  "I suppose that's why we're here, aren't we?  None of us are powerful enough to accomplish our goals alone.  But, together, and with Nightmare Moon guiding us... "

"Hail the Night!" bellowed a voice from down the hall.  A moment later, two minotaurs, their black robes thrown open to reveal powerfully muscled chests marked with swirling tribal symbols, stomped into the room and snapped to attention.  At the site of the various grisly trophies they bore, young Blueblood burst into tears.  One of the minotaurs, identical to the other but brown instead of gray, shot the child a hostile look.  "He is the one?"

"Indeed, he be," said Zujada.

"Looks weak.  Why does the Consort of the Night Mother weep at the site of us?"

Tiktak cackled.  "He is still pony, Torrax.  And you are wearing ponies."

"Weak," the minotaur said, crossing his arms.  The other put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head slightly.  Torrax regarded him silently, then snorted in annoyance.  "Fine, Xarrot.  I shall stay my judgement."

The minotaurs stepped back to flank the entrance to the room.  As they did, another two figures, accompanied by a black-cloaked Radiant Star, passed them without acknowledgement.  One was huge and mishappen, towering even over Chrysalis, grotesque rolls of fat drooping like a rotten pumpkin.  The hood of its cloak did little to conceal its bloated features and long, drooping snout.  The other was a female griffon, her feathers and fur an autumnal red, her crow-footed green eyes blazing with intelligence.  Unlike the others, she was clad in a full set of black robes.  "You are all here," she said.  "Good."

"This is very important night," the gargantuan creature said.  "This decide fate of all our plans.  Perform your duties well, or... "

"Or what, Addawser?" Tiktak asked snidely.  "You eat us?"

The creature scowled.  "Camels do not eat monkeys.  We crush them."

"Enough," the griffon snapped.  "You only need coexist for a little while longer.  Once the ritual is complete, you can go back to killing eachother, if that's what you want.  But remember that we are bound together in common cause: to see Nightmare Moon rise to power over not just Equestria, but the entire world.  And we each stand to claim substantial rewards for our services."

"Here, here," droned a lifeless, monotone voice.  All eyes turned once again as a dull green-and-olive pony in a simple black robe walked into the room.  To Blueblood's surprise, everyone straightened and watched him with nervous respect.  Wait, is that...?  That can't be... 

"Well said, Lady Bloodwing," the unicorn continued.  "As always, you are the voice of reason in our august company.  Now, then: we are all familiar with our parts?"  Eight mismatched faces nodded at him.  "Excellent.  And young Blueblood has been prepared?"

Radiant Star swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded.  "Yes, Lord Ledger."

The unicorn waved the formality away.  "We are all servants of Nightmare Moon here, my dear.  Well, then, let us assume our positions."

The cultists spread out around the circle, each taking a position behind one of the burning braziers.  Only Radiant Star and Bank Ledger did not, instead kneeling on opposite sides of young Blueblood.  Once everyone was in position, silence draped itself over the room.  Somewhere above, Blueblood thought he could hear rain pounding on cobblestones.

In the same joyless monotone as always, Ledger began the chant.  The others joined in one at a time.  Blueblood couldn't decipher the words; they were in a strange language he had never heard, and the steady droning made individual syllables all but indecipherable.  In some sick way, it reminded him of "Sow, Sow, Sow Your Field," and how other ponies would join in after the first stanza until it was impossible to tell where the song began or ended.

At some point, the braziers began to flicker and dance.  A wind with no source began to billow along the circle's perimeter.  The bloody runes on the floor began to glow a bright, unnatural crimson.  Despite his incorporeal form, Blueblood had to will himself into place to avoid being sucked up in the vortex.  In the center of the chamber, the terrified infant Blue howled and screamed.  And as things reached a crescendo, his mother stood up and crossed the circle's threshold.

The wind died instantly.  The braziers sputtered and went out.  The only light now was cast by Radiant's horn, the same unearthly shade as the runes had been, as she knelt next to the infant in the circle's center.

"I dedicate my son to the darkness.  I grant dominion of his soul to the powers that lurk at the ragged edges of reality.  I bequeath his body to the blackest hearts of Tartarus.  I anoint him a servant of Nightmare Moon, and a disciple of that which she serves.  The eclipse is coming.  Equestria will be reborn."

She touched her horn to his.  There was a flash.  And then, silence.

"... Now can I go?" Blueblood asked.

"Soon," someone replied.  He spun around towards the source of the voice, but could see nothing at all.

"Who's there?  Show yourself!"

"Soon," the voice repeated.  "Patience, my love."

Blueblood blinked.  "What?"

"We were destined to be together."  The speaker sounded feminine, sultry, and... oddly familiar.  He frowned.  "From this moment onward, our fates were intertwined.  Oh, there were setbacks, but they were only temporary.  I was never going to be defeated so easily.  And neither shall my master."

"You're Nightmare Moon."

"Indeed," the invisible presence agreed.  "Though, perhaps, that is not the most appropriate name anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"You will learn soon enough, my love.  But first... you have a task to complete, do you not?"

Blueblood snorted.  "Drowning in a river?"

"That has been seen to, my love.  No, I mean your intention to confront Chrysalis."

"I intend to be there when Shining Armor and Cadance squash her like the overgrown bug she is, yes."

He could hear Nightmare Moon's grin.  "Good."

"I'm surprised you approve.  Isn't she one of your servants?"

"I have many servants, my love.  Some more valuable than others.  But all I really want is for you to fulfill your destiny."

He shook his head.  "I won't become a monster.  You'll have to kill me, first."

"We'll see."

"No, we





won't," Blueblood slurred.  His tongue felt thick and puffy.  His mouth tasted like vomit, and the roof was covered with some sort of viscous slime.  He cleared his throat, turned, and spat a thick glob of brown mucus onto the stones around him.

He blinked and shook his head.  He lay on the shore of the vast river he'd thought he'd drowned in.  On either side, the Everfree Forest stretched on to an unknowable distance.  He had no way of knowing how far he'd been swept, but the fact that the sun was rising above him hinted that he'd been unconscious for at least an entire day.

He'd survived.  And he had Nightmare Moon to thank.

Now that the mucus was out of his throat, it felt remarkably dry.  After cupping his hooves to collect water failed miserably, Blueblood simply stuck his mouth in the gently meandering river and sucked in all the water he could stand.  After nearly a minute of gulping down fresh, cool moisture, he sighed in contentment and moved back from the shore.

Well, what now?  He had no idea where he was.  He had no idea where his companions were.  He had no maps, no tracking spells, not even a vague sense of where he was supposed to be headed.  Hay, the only reason he knew he was on the right shore was because of the direction the river was moving.

Would anypony come looking for him?  Besides demonic demigodesses who may or may not have taken a new physical form?  If he was the only one lost, then probably not.  He certainly would have told them not to.  Defeating Chrysalis and rescuing Twilight was far more important than wasting time trying to find him.  Shining Idiot would no doubt agree, hopefully more out of pragmatism than belligerence.

That left two options: swim for the far shore and try to find his way back to Ponyville, or make his way upstream and try to find the group's trail.  With luck, he hadn't been washed too far away.  And wandering blindly through the Everfree in the direction he could only hope was home was essentially suicide, at least without Zecora's hallucinogens.  So, upstream it was.

Having made his decision, Blueblood turned and began trotting... westward, he supposed, judging by the sun.  Smooth river stones clacked under his hooves as he went, and for awhile, he was able to push aside his thoughts and focus on the simple act of putting one hoof in front of another.

He stopped an hour or so later when he noticed something blue lying on the shore.  He frowned and stared at it until he noticed a small design, like a rainbow rising from a cloud, almost hidden in the water.  "Rainbow Dash!" he shouted, galloping down to the water's edge.

It wasn't Dash; rather, it was her custom-monogrammed saddlebags, emptied by the storm and the river save for a few soggy carrots.  He frowned and looked about for any further sign of the pegasus or his other companions, but found nothing.  With a shrug, he used his magic to lift the bags across his back, adjust the narrow straps, and belt it securely across his stomach.  They sat awkwardly, being designed not to interfere with a pegasus' wings overmuch, but at least he'd be able to carry anything useful or edible he came across.  Keeping an eye out for anything else that might have washed up, he continued on his way.

Fifteen minutes later, he found Cadance, and he almost retched at the sight.

She was unconscious, but breathing.  She looked largely unharmed and unmolested.  The only exception was her left wing, which...

"Oh, Celestia," he gasped.

It had been struck directly by lightning.  That was the only explanation.  The feathers had been blasted away from it, and the skin beneath had bubbled and melted like wax.  The whole limb was hardly recognizable as a wing, black and flaking in some parts and a bright, blazing red in others.  And the smell of charred flesh and festering pus...

Fighting down his revulsion, he went to her.  He wasn't sure whether to wake her first, or drag her away from the water, or try and bandage the burns, or... or anything.  He had never read anything about treating this kind of injury.  He knew, at least in theory, how to deal with cuts or broken bones, but third degree burns?

"Zecora!" he shouted desperately.  "Zecora, help!  We need help!"

No answer came.  No answer would come.  He was on his own.

Okay.  Logic time.  What do you do for a burn?  You put cold water on it, right?  That makes the swelling go down.  But... the way her skin was... nearly flaking off...

He fought back another retch.  "Okay, okay, not gonna run cold water on it.  Bandages, though... "

Focusing his magic to a precise edge, he cut away the sleeve of his tunic--sorry, Cheeri--and sliced it open into a long, wide pad.  He dipped the makeshift bandage in the river's cool water, wrung it out, and draped it gently over the blackened mess at the tip of Cadance's wing.  She gasped in pain and her eyes flew open.

"Cadance!" he said.  "Cadance, I'm here, don't worry."

Her eyes were wide and unfocused.  "... Blue?" she murmured.

"That's right, Cadance.  It's me.  You're... you're hurt.  But I'm trying to help, okay?"

"Where's... Shining?"

"I don't know.  We got separated.  But we'll be okay, I promise."

Cadance tried to roll over to look at her wing.  He put a hoof on her shoulder to stop her.  She looked at him with growing coherence and concern.  "The storm... ?"

"Yeah," he confirmed.  "I think you were struck by lightning."

"That's... not good."

"No, it isn't."  He sighed.  "Do... do you know how to treat it?  I... I don't really know much about burns."

"How bad is it?"

"It's bad.  It's... "  He glanced at her wounded wing and felt another wave of nausea rising.  "It's bad," he finished lamely.

"Okay," she said.  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the stones.

Blueblood shook her.  "Cadance!  Cadance, stay with me!"

"I'm fine, Blue.  I'm... concentrating."

Cadance's horn began to glow, an azure aura building around it and slowly spreading to the rest of her body.  When it reached her wing, she gasped and sucked in breath; Blueblood put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder, and she smiled appreciatively.  Her eyes narrowed as she focused her power on the wound, and sweat began to bead at her forehead.  Several long minutes passed before, to Blueblood's surprise and alarm, the blackened skin on her wings began to crack and fall away, revealing comparatively healthy, pink scar tissue underneath.  The blazing redness in other parts of her wing faded as well, until the whole was a uniform, featherless, raw color.  Cadance let out her breath in a relieved sigh and opened her eyes to examine her work.

"Are you okay?" Blueblood asked.  "I've never seen such comprehensive magical healing.  That must have been exhausting."

Cadance winced as she tried to stretch her wing.  "Not that comprehensive.  All I could do was fix the surface damage and heal the infections."  She shook her head sadly.  "I... may never fly again."

Blueblood looked at his adopted sister.  She stared forlornly at the ruined appendage, using her hooves to stretch it as far as it would go.  He sat down beside her and put a hoof around her shoulder.  "You will, eventually.  You have the rest of eternity to work on it."

She grimaced and let the wing fold awkwardly against her side.  "I suppose I do.  Are... are you alright?  And where are we?"

"I'm fine, and... I don't know.  We were swept downstream.  The others haven't found us yet, and I'm afraid something may have happened to Rainbow Dash; I found her saddlebag a mile or so back."

She nodded.  "Okay.  The others crossed safely, so they must be together.  But Dash was trying to fly through the storm, too, and if she dropped her saddlebags... "

"Can you find her with your locator spell?"

"I should be able to.  May I see the bags?"

Blueblood unharnessed the pouched and presented them to Cadance.  As an afterthought, he drew out two of the soggy carrots and offered one to her; she accepted it gratefully and hungrily.  As she chewed, she narrowed her eyes and focused on the saddlebags.  "That healing spell took a lot out of me... just give me another moment... there."

A bright little ball of light appeared at the tip of Cadance's horn and drifted a few inches to her left before hovering in place.  Cadance looked between it and the shore and frowned.  "She's alive, but she's inland."

"Maybe the storm blew her into the forest?"

"Perhaps," she agreed.  "At least that means she probably wasn't hit by lightning.  She may be in trouble, though."

"Of course she is.  Given our run of luck, she's likely landed in a nest of manticores."

Cadance paused and gave Blueblood a long look.  He stared back at her, an eyebrow raised in bemusement.  "This isn't your fault, Blue."

"I didn't claim it was."

She shook her head.  "You didn't have to.  I know you.  You think the storm, my wing, all of it, was the result of your curse."

"You know me?"  Blueblood rolled his eyes.  "Cadance, I'm thrilled that we've made up, but you hardly 'know' me.  The 'me' you knew was an obsessed, lovestruck idiot.  The 'me' in front of you is somewhat more jaded and pragmatic.  Whether any of this was my curse's doing or not, it hardly makes it my fault.  My mother and her cult are to blame, not me."

"You say that," she observed, "but you don't believe it."

"Spare me the psychoanalysis, Cadance!" Blueblood snapped, scuffing the earth with his hoof.  "Fault can be assigned later.  We need to find Rainbow Dash.  Then we need to find the others, and then we need to rescue Twilight Sparkle.  Wallowing in my own self-pity can wait until after."

She frowned at him, but remained silent.  Taking the lead with her little compass orb, she started off into the forest.  Blueblood stared after her for a moment, annoyance and frustration churning in his heart.  She was half right, of course; before today, he would have blamed himself, however irrationally.  But now, he had faces.  He had names.  He'd seen those responsible for his curse, had spoken to the creature they served.  He'd seen how helpless and frightened his younger self had been.  He'd never chosen to become their vessel.  He'd never asked to be Nightmare Moon's consort.

He wasn't to blame for anything.  Not Cadance.  Not Cloud Kicker and Blossomforth.  Not Azure Throne.  Not even the Gala.  They were to blame.  They deserved the scorn, the hatred, and the disdain.  Not Blueblood.

He was a good pony.  He was.  And whatever happened from here on out, nothing would ever really be his fault.