//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: “Certainly, a young stallion like yourself has heard the tales.” // Story: The Ghost of Coltistrano // by EthanClark //------------------------------// Abby had a slight bounce in her step as she, along with Trusty Steed and Honey Hearts, were escorted through Canterlot castle. Trusty read over the letter in his hoof. It was ornate, lined with embossed trim and sporting the seal of the EUP General’s Board on the envelope. The clacking of their hooves on the marble floor was covered by the ambiguous chatting coming from farther down the hall. Honey held close to Abby, afraid to lose her composure in such a grand place. Their escorts halted and issued them forward. “The brigadier will see you. Please, mind the crowd.” The trio continued on and, sure enough, a sizable crowd had gathered outside of the brigadier’s office. Seated, standing, talking amongst themselves, each pony before them wore a uniform of some sort, their shoulder pads emblazoned with a yellow “XXII”. Those who took notice gave a bow to the countess and made way for her. Another, with a pair of bandaged ears, scrambled to his hooves and clumsily opened the door for her, an anxious grin on his face. Abby nodded and lead Honey and Trusty into the office.  Brigadier Wall’s office was sparsely decorated, save for a mahogany and glass cabinet to the side that was filled with mementos. Across from it was a towering bookcase, filled with tomes of every color and type. Abby recognized some of them from her time at Celestia’s magical academy, and many others she didn’t. The row of magical tomes became darker and darker as her glance followed it down, ending in a few ragged books that seemed to drain the light from around them. At the front, before a large window, sat the brigadier himself at a sizable wooden desk. He was flanked by a seated ice blue unicorn and another, a supremely dressed indigo pony floating parchment before him. “And you, of course,” the indigo pony began, “present this testimony as both, unequivocally, factual and of your own mind?”  “Of course, Chief Magistrate, it is as you say. I may be a mere grunt but I am still a stallion of honor.” The seated pony spoke in a loud, almost offended tone. The magistrate made a few final marks upon the parchment, rolling it up and placing it into a saddlebag. Beside him, Shield Wall stood up before addressing the group. “Ah, countess. Forgive me, we were just finishing up. I had not expected you so early.” “It’s no bother, sir, one of the guards was kind enough to let us in. Hello, Mr. Gavel.” “Greetings, countess,” Midnight Gavel said, giving a bow. Abby returned the gesture, Trusty and Honey joining her side. The smile of Shield Wall’s face dimmed slightly at the sight of them. They were dressed in presentable garb, base colors and lacking any sort of real style. Shield took note of this and resisted the urge to gag. “When we received your letter we were so excited,” Honey said. “Forgive us, my lord, but we were all so anxious to see Silver. Where is he?” It took much of Shield Wall’s energy to even pay attention to the earth pony. To him, her words were as enthralling as yesterday’s refuse. He cleared his throat. “Yes… perhaps you should take a seat.” Serenade sprung from his dark leather chair, holding a hoof out to Abby and offering her to sit. Trusty sacrificed the second chair to his wife and stood beside her. “Don’t tell me he’s gone and got himself into trouble. I though he grew out of that phase when he was a little tyke.” Honey giggled at her husband’s words, though Shield Wall clung desperately to his self-control. “N-no, nothing of the sort.” He took a seat behind his desk. “Though I am… sorry to bring an end to the good mood.” “Why? What happened?” Abby questioned. “The letter I sent was not to arrange a rendezvous with your son, it was because you are his next of kin. There was an accident at sea. Members of the Griffonstone militia force came onto the ship in the dead of night. There was a fight.” Midnight cocked an eyebrow at Shield, but quickly put it away. Honey stirred in her seat, her breath quickening. Trusty squeezed her shoulder. “Sergeant Spade was placed on night watch. The guard who let you in was with him, and became the enemy’s first target. From what he tells me, Silver tackled the gryphons off him. When I came to the deck he was…” Shield brought a hoof to his mouth, forcing the emotion. “He was too far gone. The gryphons ravaged his body and carried him into the night.” Abby’s expression fell. Honey, beside her, was almost choking on her sobs, clinging to her husband’s hoof, who only stood with a grim face. “No,” Abby whispered. “No, he can’t be. Not like that. There-” She felt warm tears stream down her face. “There must be a mistake.” “I am sorry, countess,” Gavel began, his voice gentle. “That is what the group outside was for. We have been interviewing the crew all morning. Their testimonies all confirm this.” “No!” Abby shouted as her makeup streaked down her cheeks. “No, they don’t! This is some vile lie! Silver was a sergeant, a soldier, he could look after himself! He couldn’t…” Abby fell deeper into her seat, sniffling and holding her face in her hooves. Midnight stood unphased by the display while Shield’s mouth hung agape, unsure of how to console the mare. From the side, Serenade knelt before Abby and took her hooves in his own. “Countess,” he spoke softly. “In my years serving this nation, I have seen many valiant warriors. Your lover was no exception. What I saw him do to those gryphons was beyond words. The power and the drive he fought with, all to rescue a stranger from the claws of death. It was like the tales my mamá would tell me as a foal.” Abby’s sobs seemed to lighten up, and Serenade continued his consolation. “But, alas, this is not a fairy tale. Heroes do not always make it to the end of the story, but they live on in our most cherished memories of them. He will always be with you then.” Midnight stood dumbstruck at Serenade’s heartfelt speech. Serenade helped Abby to her hooves, giving a bow before returning to the side of the room. Shield came out from behind his desk and put a hoof on her shoulder. “It is a terrible loss, to be sure. Though I was hard on him, I could not help but admire him, as well. After all, he had won your favor.” Shield guided Abby to the door, motioning for Trusty and Honey to follow. Trusty all but carried his wife to the entrance, his eyes red from holding back the tears. “Wait, there are still forms and the death certificate to sign. I cannot proc-” “Oh for Celestia’s sake, Midnight, can you not see the boy’s parents are grieving?” Shield glared at Gavel in mock annoyance. “Give them some time to come to terms. We can always mail your damn paperwork to them.” The three joined at the door. Trusty approached the brigadier and extended a hoof to him. “Thank you, sir, for helping us with this, and…” his lip trembled, but with a sharp breath it stiffened again. “Thank you for looking after him, up until the end.” Shield slowly brought his hoof into contact with Trusty’s and pulled away. The three turned to exit the door and, after Shield had closed it behind them, a soft chuckle rose from Serenade’s lips. “I do hate to admit it, Serenade,” Shield began in a hushed tone. “I am quite impressed with your little stunt.” “Ponies are most easily manipulated when they are angry, and the countess is no exception.” Shield Wall returned to his desk, floating a crystal decanter from one of the lower drawers. Three glasses followed suit and were filled with the amber liquid within the bottle. Shield passed them around to the two now seated ponies. “And like that, gentlecolts, our problems are solved.” “Your problems, need I remind you your little lie indicted the gryphons with murder of a royal soldier. There will be an investigation.” “One that you will no doubt commandeer and stall into eternity.” Shield took a sip of the cool drink, savoring the tingle in his throat. “Now, Serenade, I would like to pique your interest, if you would indulge me.” “Go on.” Serenade took a sip of his brandy and smirked. “This is not the first time I have noticed your… unique talents. You have a way with ponies that makes you quite valuable. Is it true you talked your way out of a minotaur encampment?” “Only partially,” Serenade said after another sip. “There was a bandit gang out near that hick town, Appleloosa, and I had the misfortune of ending up in their clutches. Minotaurs are so easy to read, though. It was but minutes before I had their leader believing his brother was stealing from him. Escape, at that point, was easy.” Shield turned his head to Midnight, a smirk of his own growing on his face.  “Yes,” Midnight drew out. “I have witnesses who place you out that way. No word of the brother, but the story is sound. You’re not thinking of bringing him in, are you?” “Why not? We need the beguiling sort to maintain control of our under-dealings. And besides, he is no stranger to our work, anymore.” Midnight looked to Serenade, who sat playing with his glass in his magic. He studied him for a few moments, taking in every detail about smug unicorn. From his saddlebag, Midnight produced a scroll and passed it to Serenade. It unfurled before him. Serenade took a moment away from his cup to read the document, his mouth slowing beginning to hang open. A little drop began to form in the corner of his mouth, but was quickly lapped up before it could drift too far. Shield retained his smirk. “You will need an alias, and to resign from the 22nd Recon. After six months, however, you’ll receive eight percent. More than enough to keep your loyalty, yes?” “It’s more than ‘more’,” Serenade said, his eyes firmly fixed on the document. “How many bits are you two sitting on?” Shield turned his smug gaze to Midnight, who, too, was allowing himself to enjoy showing off to the new talent. “Not enough,” Midnight Gavel said coolly. “Would a pony of your talents be willing to help with that?” ---- Muffled noises came from all around. A dull tingling sensation surrounded his entire form, down to the tips of his hooves. His chest rose and fell in a tremble as his lungs put what little strength they had into feeding his body air. A pressure in his skull, a rumble in his gullet, and a terrible pain that wracked his being. His twitching muscles then fell limp, and the terrible sense of drowning returned. With a start Silver came to, writhing under the phantasmal power of his own nightmares. He choked and gasped. In a moment a hoof came to his chest and lowered him back down. “Slowly, slowly,” a creaky voice whispered. “You are under fever, you need to rest.” The voice’s words did little to calm Silver, though, as he rocked to the side and collided onto the soft, dusty ground beneath him. He cried out at the return of his senses, bringing with them all the pain of his wounds. Silver raised his head from the sand. Into his vision came the shape of a dark creature, its pale eyes illuminated by the setting sun. Silver screamed again but the very act of doing so brought a sting through his body. The sand beneath him began to grow red. “My boy, you must remain calm.” The creature before Silver came to his side and groaned as he pulled the ailing earth pony from the beach. “Your wounds will reopen if you continue.” Silver lacked the strength to resist, his muscles burning. He sat back down onto the makeshift bed, which Silver now realized was a small pallet of wood and debris. He turned again to the creature and, his vision returning, identified his caretaker. “You…” Silver said, raspily. “You’re a… a changel-” Another shot of pain came roaring through Silver’s side. He fell back onto the bedding. “Yes, my boy, perhaps the last thing you would think to see out here.” The changeling placed his chitin covered hoof to Silver’s throat, causing him to recoil slightly. “Well,” he said, “your pulse is good, though you may need another day or two before you can be moved.” As the changeling took to cleaning Silver’s wounds, the ailing pony examined his savior. He was certainly of the hivefolk, but something was off. The chitin plating changelings are so famous for was cracked and chipped along its edges, leading up to an impressive gash along his side. From here, Silver noticed several splotches of color. These glossy green and blue streaks jutted out from where the changeling’s heart would be. The were intricate, with purpose, but petered off around his upper neck.  “Who are you?” Silver managed to say. “Darrox.” The changeling continued his treatment. From a primitive looking sack he pulled a worn cloth and began wrapping Silver’s barrel in it. “How did I get here?” “Well, I carried you,” Darrox chuckled. “You were in a bad sort when I found you, and I am amazed you woke up as soon as you did. I figured two days was-” “Two days?!”  Silver jerked a leg trying to sit up, but was once again met with a sting from his wounds. Darrox huffed and gave a light slap on the earth pony’s head. “Would you cease? You will heal in the shape of a pretzel if you keep up your incessant wriggling.” Silver took a ragged breath, summoning some semblance of self-control before lying back. There was a silence, broken intermittently by the waves along the shore. “Might I ask what happened out there?” Silver shuddered at Darrox’s question. His memory returned to the horrific assault on his body, the laughing of the crew, and the binding chill of the ocean as it squeezed the life from him. He took another breath. “I don’t know,” Silver spoke somberly. “He was always hard on us, but I never thought… I didn’t…” “Who?” Darrox tied off the bandage around Silver’s chest. “The brigadier, he…” Silver’s words shook, his hooves trembling. “Oh, Celestia, I couldn’t even fight back.” “Were you a sailor?” Darrox took hold of Silver’s hoof to steady him. “A soldier.” “Was there a mutiny? You look as if the entire crew had a go at you.” “No,” Silver shook his head. “It was him. Just him. He held me down and… I just don’t know why!” Silver’s words slowly turned to hysterics as Darrox tried to make sense of it all. From his sack he pulled another item, a small bottle, and held it to Silver’s lips. He motioned Silver to drink and drained the bottle into his mouth. Silver’s heaving and mumbling began to slow. “Wh-what was that, some sort of potion?” “Rum,” Darrox chuckled. “The bedmate of sailor and noble, alike. Now, continue with your story.” The warmth spread through Silver’s throat, reaching down into his gut and moving outward. His limbs relaxed and his pain eased. For the first time he felt a smile, albeit a small one, spread across his lips.  “Back in Canterlot,” Silver began, “We had all returned from a battle north of the Galloping Gorge. Yaks had moved in and attacked the border towns. I went against orders to solve it peacefully. The lieutenant was a dunce.” Darrox chuckled at this and continued listening. “When I gave my report to the General’s Board they were… pleased, I think. I was given disciplinary service but was still allowed to go to the officers academy with Shining. He’s a friend. Coolest guy you’ve ever met. My CO came to me during the return party, said I’d meet him at Horseshoe Bay for service on a ship. Things were fine for a few days but… well… how could anypony be so cruel?” “You would be surprised.” Darrox wore a stoic expression, his gaze narrowed before him.  “I’m sorry,” Silver said. “You’ve, uh, you’ve probably been on the receiving end of a lot of that, huh? Being a… well…” “I suppose,” Darrox said. “But much of my abuse came from my own foolhardy nature. It’s to be expected when one puts his muzzle into other ponies’ business.” “What do you mean?” Silver cocked an eyebrow at Darrox’s words, who returned with a small smile. “Well, certainly, a young stallion like yourself has heard the tales. Stories spread along the Bridle Shores of a pony, cloaked in shadow, judging Equestria’s guilty. His battle cry… um… oh, how did that blasted thing go?” “Though you escape from judgement’s view,” Silver began. “The Ghost now sets his haunt upon you!”  “That’s the one!” Darrox let out a gentle laugh that joined Silver’s. Together, the two shared in their brief moment of revelry before their laughter was drowned out by the waves. “You’re really him?” “The very same,” Darrox said. “Being a changeling helped tremendously in my work.” “Did you ever actually say that line?” Silver asked incredulously. “Oh, sweet Day, no. Far too pulpy for my taste. No, my boy, I am afraid that reality is far less appealing than fiction.” Silver, who had managed to finally sit up, stared at Darrox in absolute wonderment. Before him sat a legend, a living legend, who’s very tale was spread across Equestria for years after his disappearance. Bouncing around in his head was a list of questions he wanted answers to, but he resisted the urge, instead settling on the one that mattered. “How did you end up here?” Silver finally asked. “Well, that is a story. Needless to say, I had chosen to spend my life defending Equestria from all that threatened it. Being a changeling was… difficult for some to understand. In the hive you are taught to fight and conquer. Survival of the fittest, and all that tripe. The queen placed me on a scouting mission of a nearby pony village and what I saw changed me forever.” “What was it?” Silver asked with rapt attention. “Love, my boy, real love. Ponies helping each other, dancing together, even stopping to hold the door open. It was beautiful, needless to say. That’s when this started,” Darrox pointed to the swirl of color along his chitin. “I was exiled, but I did not care. There was a whole new world outside for me to explore. As I did, I found that same love was everywhere I went. There were times I was tempted to give in to my urges to feed, for sure, but how could I? One day I made it to Canterlot, where I found a mare and her foal walking the streets at night. They had been cut off by a brutish lot. I was unsure of their intentions, but we changelings can sense emotion, and all I felt was malice. “I did what I knew a loving pony of Equestria would do: I stood in their way. Oh, the looks on their faces, to see a changeling so far from the hive. When they tried to remove me I… well, I refused their offer. I still remember the look on the foal’s face. Not one of fear, as I usually received, but one of amazement. It was a pure love, and from then on I knew to feed on love was wrong, it should only be protected. My journeys led me all across Equestria, earning several allies and enemies. But, later into my career, I met the worst of them all. One who seemed completely devoid of all love. The one who I followed out here.” “Who was he?” “A captain, officially, but nothing more than a vile monster of a pony. Cold and vicious. He had brought a mountain of gold to sea in an attempt to bribe the dragons into attacking Equestria, to start a proxy war where he could achieve power. He was villainy incarnate.” “Huh,” Silver muttered. “That sounds like someone I know.” This perked Darrox’s ears upright. He leaned forward to Silver. “Who?” “The pony who dropped me here, who did… this,” he motioned over his body. “He talked about how the yak invasion was a ruse. Something he manufactured. At first I thought he was just trying to rile me up, but-” “What is his name?” Darrox’s tone was firm, now. “Did he have a blonde mane, with eyes of molten gold?” “The eyes, definitely. His name is Shield Wall, he’s a brigadier with the EUP.” Darrox froze in place. His forelegs fell limply to his sides as his eyes wandered, aimlessly. Silver attempted to catch his attention, but to no avail. The changeling muttered loudly. “The storm… the boats. He couldn’t have… he just… eight years, two months, fourteen days…” “Darrox? Are you okay?” Darrox came to his senses. The chitin along his body tensed, then softened as he fell back onto his haunches.  “I’m sorry, my boy, but when you… my comfort on this island was the thought I had won. That his evil may have finally been swallowed by the storm. But seeing you means he still roams free. It means that I… I failed.” Silver looked out to the shore, the tide crashing upon the beach. From the pit of his stomach he felt tendrils of fear spread out. The knot grew, pushing into the memories of his family, of Shining and of Abby. All that was left behind, taken by a pony he once served. He looked to Darrox, and Silver could almost feel how broken he was. Silver came down from the bedding. “How do we get off this island.” “We don’t, my boy. I have been here for almost a decade.” “Well, have you tried to escape?” Darrox choked on his response and said nothing. “If you haven’t even tried then here’s your chance. I can’t spend the rest of my life here.” “My boy, there are hundreds of miles of ocean between us and Equestria.” “Alright, fine, we’ll cross it. You’re the Ghost, you’re a hero. You’ve got to have at least one idea.” “I was the Ghost, but that was a lifetime ago. My stake in this fight is long since over.” “Well mine isn’t!” Silver shouted over the crashing of the waves. “I won’t sit in the sand while everypony I love thinks I’m dead.” “Even if you do return, Shield Wall will find you. You cannot just walk into Canterlot and declare your resurrection. You would not even make it through the gate.” “I don’t care! I’m not staying here and I’m not going to let some withering old changeling, you of all ponies, tell me to let Shield Wall get away with what he’s done to me. Now you can help me get us off this speck of dirt, or you-” The stress of his shouting brought Silver to his knees. Darrox moved to assist him but was brushed aside, left in the sand as Silver stumbled away from the shoreline. As Silver began to limp away, something stirred in Darrox. Like a flame, long since reduced to an ember, stoked to fledgling new life by the young soldier’s words. Farther up the beach, nearing the wooded area of the mainland, Silver continued his strenuous climb up the sand. With a grunt he fell back, threatening to collide with the dune beneath him, until a black tendril coiled around his midsection.  Silver’s eyes followed the black shape, which had twisted around a tree and traced back behind him to Darrox. The changeling was now behind him, having closed the distance Silver put between them with a phantasmal speed. The tendril, in fact a sleek stretch of fabric, released Silver before retreating to Darrox’s grasp and into his rucksack. Silver’s mouth hung open. “If you are going to get us off this island you will still need to heal,” Darrox propped Silver over his shoulder. “And if you are going to take your revenge on Shield Wall, you will need more than a blazing heart and harsh words.” Darrox did not speak again for the duration of their walk into the woods, but the expression he gave filled Silver with some measure of hope. The two neared a hulking wreck as the sun set over the horizon, giving a green flash before dipping down entirely.