They’d been flying for a little over four hours by Ana’s guess, and her wings were starting to ache.
It helped that they’d found a good thermal to loiter on, but even with the warm air pushing them back up at the end of every circle, holding one’s wings out for so long without rest was a sure way to develop the low, pulsing ache of strained muscles. She glanced over to her sister, gliding opposite her in the pattern they’d established. Griffons weren’t built for endurance flight. No matter how hard Gava might clench her jaw and glare at the clouds and try to pretend otherwise, Ana could tell that she was struggling.
They were circling high above the bustling docks that dominated the West Quarter of Friesland, using the clouds for concealment. Airships came to and fro, the sailors and dock workers alike hustling to unload heavy bundles of supplies via crane and hoof: grain, munitions, and the little imported niceties that made life bearable even with an army encamped outside the walls. Those in command had been sure to keep a reserve of such vital commodities in case of siege, but imports from abroad would let them last far longer. The hike in prices was noticeable, but not harmful. Yet.
Ana narrowed her eyes, picking out a new ship crossing the horizon. It was a hefty construct of dark metal, with a wide base supported by a long balloon affixed on either side, and large propellers on the front and back of each balloon pushing its bulk. A pair of long wings jutted down underneath it at an angle, perhaps to give space for control surfaces or just for balance. It was unique compared to the simpler one-balloon underslung design most common in the docks; a southern ship, most likely. Its captain must have come a long way in the hopes of greater profits.
Ana angled her body, passing over Gava as she guided herself towards the approaching ship. Gava fell into place beside her with a grimace, pumping her wings to catch up.
“You finally find a target you’re satisfied with?” she asked, a little short of breath.
Ana nodded, pointing a hoof. “That one.”
“Finally.” Gava flexed her talons, the sharpened tips gleaming in the sunlight. “Any longer and I might’ve fallen into the ocean of boredom.”
“Hey, put those things away.” Ana did a brief twirl, dusting the tip of her tail over Gava’s beak and drawing an indignant squawk. “Nobody’s gonna cooperate if you get all bloody.”
“What’s it matter if they cooperate? It’s just a bunch of ponies, Ana. Claws are faster, and they’ll probably just surrender once they see me in action.”
Ana pursed her lips, but didn’t offer any further rebuttal. Many hard and frequently bloody years on the job had dulled whatever sense of righteousness she might have once nurtured. This was the wrong business for remorse. Not that she’d had much opportunity for it.
Until they came along. And how did you thank them?
Ana shook her head with an annoyed growl. Focus. You don’t owe them anything.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the ship. It was making a beeline for the island, and as Ana drew closer she began to pick out more details. The lower deck was open to the sky, secured only by a loose net, allowing the large stone bins and rope-secured bundles inside to be loaded and unloaded with ease by any dock crane. She could only see a couple ponies walking around the deck with pens in their mouths, leaning over the netting and squinting at the cargo before making small notes on their clipboards. The deck ended in a small cabin towards the bow with a wide glass window, where she expected the pilot would be stationed.
By her guess, the ship probably had about a dozen ponies in the crew, plus the captain and an officer. Not one would see them coming.
She glanced down at the metal shoe fitted snugly around one of her hooves. Small, sharp studs lined the bottom face, and a pair of curving blades rested against the foreleg above it. They were attached with a simple hinge, and it was a simple matter to pull the blades out and lock them in place, where they’d extend out from her hooves like a pair of cold metal talons. One of her pair had been lost in the crash of the Roc’s Screech, but even just the one arcata was enough to multiply her lethality ten-fold.
After a moment’s consideration, she shook her head and looked away. She didn’t need any blade to take out a few sailors, and it was difficult to walk with the two sharp prongs sticking out from her hoof. No, she’d keep all six limbs free for this.
She tugged at the strings of the thick cloth jerkin around her barrel, ensuring it was snug. “Ready, sis?”
Rather than answer with words, Gava folded her wings in and let gravity take her. Ana couldn’t help but grin as she followed suit, taking a moment to close her eyes and sink into the sensation of the wind rippling through her mane.
They veered to opposite sides, each aiming for one of the two ponies on the deck. There was a splash of glistening red as Gava landed, sinking her talons into her prey’s neck and drawing out a wet gasp. Ana’s target jumped in alarm, his face paling at the sight, and he was still watching with stiff-bodied shock when Ana’s armored hoof crashed into his face. He collapsed in an instant, his clipboard clattering against the metal beside him.
The sisters exchanged a quick glance. Ana pointed a hoof downwards. I’ll get below decks. Gava nodded, pausing only to lick some blood off her talons before pacing towards the closed door of the control room.
Ana’s eyes didn’t linger on the bloodied sailor. Her arcata flashed out, severing the netting over the cargo hold with a quick tug, and she dropped inside, alighting on the lower deck without a sound.
There was the clatter of cutlery hitting a plate. Ana turned to see a pegasus mare and unicorn stallion watching her with wide eyes, each seated on either side of a simple table and wearing worn work overalls. She pounced, spinning mid-air to land a double-legged buck against the stallion’s chest. His yelp cut off with a groan as his head slammed against the hard wall behind him.
The mare was quick on her hooves, turning the table up with a quick buck. Ana rolled under it with ease, but the mare was already galloping away, her lungs belting out a panicky scream.
“Raiders! Raiders!”
Ana launched herself forwards, wings pumping at her sides and ears twitching at the muffled sound of pounding hooves around her. She caught up with the mare just as she opened a door leading out of the open-air cargo hold, bringing her to the ground and cutting off her shriek with a kick to the gut.
Ana looked up as the mare doubled over. Hammocks lined the walls, gently swaying with the motion of the ship. A half-dozen sailors all looked up from their dice, eyes darting between Ana and the mare gagging on the ground. A bottle tipped over with a quiet clinking, spilling its contents.
Ana waved a hoof. “Hello, there.”
The sailors stood up and spread across the room, glowering down at her. One of them, a unicorn stallion with a burnt red coat, stepped forwards. “What’re you doing on our ship, bat pony?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was stealing it?” Ana asked.
The stallion snorted. “And you’re gonna take all of us on? On your own, little bat?”
Ana shrugged. “If you want me to.” She paused, taking a moment to consider drawing her arcata before dismissing the thought once more. “You’d probably like it more than if my sister did it.”
A wave of laughter passed over the sailors. “And where might she be, then?”
Ana screwed her muzzle up as if in deep thought. “Probably in the control room with a few bloody bodies. I imagine even a gang of idiots like you might’ve heard of her. Does ‘Gava the Griffon’ ring any bells?”
That got their attention. She grinned as they all frowned at her with a sudden gravity.
A mare stepped forward, her voice low and her lip curled back. “The same Gava that bit off Jester’s horn in Leviathan Wakes?”
Ana blinked. “Wait, she did what?”
She knew Jester. The mare owned the biggest bar in the traveling ocean city, and over any given year she’d count almost every free-roaming mercenary, pirate, and salvage diver among her patronage. She was everybody’s friend, she had a hoof in every pot, and if you wanted to piss off every ship-bound pony in Equestria, biting her horn off would be the quickest way to do it.
It occurred to Ana that she really ought to have a long talk with her sister about long-term thinking.
“Didn’t think her actions would ever catch up with her, did she?” the mare sneered. She stepped forwards, the other sailors close behind.
“Are you threatening my sister?” Ana bared her fangs, her tail lashing out behind her. Her pulse quickened, bringing with it the jittery thrill of adrenaline and pushing out any concerns over lethality. “Kinda sounds like that’s what you’re doing.”
“Not just her, bat,” the stallion spat. “Course the bounty’s on the dead hen herself, but I don’t think Jester would turn down a bat wing necklace.”
“That’s a little grotesque, don’t you think?” Ana stepped back, her tail brushing up against the wall behind her. “Look, I’m kinda trying something new today. How about you all get together and tie yourselves up, and I guarantee you’ll live to set hoof on land again.”
They grinned at each other as they closed in further. They were just a few steps away now. “I think you should be more worried about your own life for now, bat,” the mare said.
Ana grimaced. This would be a lot easier if I could just magic them all in place. She looked between the two ponies in charge, the ones that had threatened Gava, and a surge of bitter anger flared up in her breast. Why should she bother trying to keep them alive anyway? They sneered down at her, perhaps mistaking the expression for one of fear.
Well, I tried. She raised a foreleg and flicked her hoof. The mare that had been cowering on the ground beside her whimpered as the arcata blades snapped into place with a loud click, drawing the assembled sailors’ eyes. At the same time, she hooked her wing claws around the throwing blades tucked away into each side of her jerkin. The sailors were oblivious to the motion, distracted by the more obvious weapon on her hoof.
With a flick of her wings, the mare and the stallion who had threatened Gava fell to the ground like puppets cut loose from their strings, blades embedded in their eyes up to the tang.
The remaining four sailors jerked back, eyes wide as the last twitches of life fled from the fresh corpses. Slowly they looked back to Ana’s cold gaze.
“Against my better judgment, I’ll give you one more shot,” Ana growled. “I know my sister can be a bitch, but is it really worth your lives?”
The distrust was clear in their eyes, and she couldn’t blame them. Everybody knew that you couldn’t trust a thestral.
Well, guess there’s always next time.
Guttural roars filled the little barracks as the sailors rushed her all at once. Ana snarled as she threw two more blades, each striking true but doing little more than stagger their targets. She lashed out at the first pony to reach her with her arcata, cutting two deep gashes across his neck. He fell to the ground, clutching at the wound in a vain attempt to staunch the spurting blood.
She flapped her wings as the second sailor reached her, vaulting over his lowered horn and sending him sprawling with a kick to his rear. The third sailor had a small work knife held in his feathers, and she knocked it loose with a quick jab. She was too slow to catch the fourth, who tackled her with a furious roar and drove her up against the wall.
Ana gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. She grit her teeth, grabbing her last pair of knives from her outfit and plunging them into her attacker’s flanks. The small blades were hardly lethal in such a place, but it was enough to draw a scream of pain, and she seized the opportunity to push him back and squeeze her arcata into the space between them. A wet, red gurgle slipped past his lips as the sharp points slid into his neck.
She tossed him off just as the other two ponies were recovering. One of them ripped a hammock off the wall, tossing the makeshift net over her while his companion kept her hemmed in. She flared her wings wide as the net landed, keeping it from tangling her legs, and lunged forward, bearing the nearest sailor to the ground.
She made to lunge with her arcata, growling as it caught on the netting. Instead she opened her maw wide, pressing down onto him and sinking her fangs into his neck.
He screamed as warm blood flooded into her mouth and dribbled down her chin. “Ah, fuck! It’s drinking my blood!”
It.
Ana caught movement in her peripheral vision. She lashed out with a hind leg and was rewarded with the vibration of impact and a grunt of pain. She bit harder, pulling back with a vicious snarl. The pony’s screams were cut off abruptly, and his struggles died down shortly after.
She spat the blood out as she turned to face the last sailor, who had opted to remain curled up against the wall instead of rising to face her once more. In his fearful eyes she saw her image reflected—a thestral panting with exertion, the thick blood of a pony staining fangs bared in a rictus grin, and glimmering golden eyes spread wide with the heart-pounding rush of battle.
She took a deep breath. It couldn’t have been more than five seconds, and she’d added four kills to her name.
“D-d-don’t kill me!” the sailor begged, hiding under his forelegs.
Ana took a step forwards.
“P-please! I’m sorry! I d-d-don’t want to d-die!”
She reached a wing over to pull a knife out of a corpse’s eye with a wet squelch.
“Oh, fuck, oh, please. Oh, Luna, s-save me!”
Luna.
Ana paused. She thought of the great cathedral in Friesland and the likeness of Princess Luna frowning down at her. She thought of Gava describing how peaceful the Princess had looked, even as battle raged all around her on the Argo. She thought of overheard conversations between Countess Rarity and Pinkie Pie, and of a midnight blue dress hidden away beneath her father’s skull.
She licked the blood from her lips. A cold chill ran down her spine before settling into a stony weight in her gut.
The throwing knife splashed into a pool of blood on the ground, spraying a few red drops onto her coat. The stallion whimpered and flinched as she stormed past him without a word, past the cowering mare she had initially chased inside, and back into the open air of the cargo bay.
She shoved her arcata back into the sheathed position. She raised a hoof to scrub the blood off her muzzle, but all she did was smear more onto it.
Idiot filly! What are you doing? Why was she stressing out over a little blood? She may not have ever eaten pony flesh like her sister, but she’d gotten blood on her tongue plenty of times in her life. It tasted good. And why wouldn’t her heart stop racing? The danger was past!
She shook her head as she flew back up to the upper deck. She needed to focus until the job was done. Distractions would only endanger her or her sister. With renewed determination she flew through the open door of the control room.
There were only three bodies here, but if anything there was even more red on the scene than she had left down below. A few stray limbs sat in puddles of it in the corners, far from the terrified, frozen faces of their former owners.
Focus! Gava stood at the front of the room, eyes forward, talons idly occupied by the controls, and dark smears of red on her curved beak. The West Quarter was just passing under them.
Gava glanced back. “Finally. So how many were there?”
“E-eight.” Ana stepped up to Gava’s side, swallowing and putting more force into her voice. “Maybe if I had it as easy as you I’d have finished sooner.”
Gava shot her a sideways glance, but Ana kept her gaze resolutely forward. At length she finally spoke. “Yeah. Guess you had twice as many as me.”
“I left a couple survivors.”
Gava snorted. “Not for long. We’re almost there now.”
She pointed a talon at the approaching shape of their objective, the garrison fortress. It was constructed in the old style, a castle of sheer stone walls and towers that the city had long since outgrown. Where once there had been fields of wheat, now mismatching stone buildings squatted around the castle’s base. In the past it would have housed a company of trained archers and warriors, but now it served as training grounds, administration, and storage for the city’s police force.
Most importantly to them, however, it was the site of one of Friesland’s two central granaries, as well as a sizeable stockade of munitions.
A small airship was approaching from the opposite side of the city. A pegasus stood on the prow, waving colorful flags in her wings. Ana didn’t know flag code, but she imagined it probably meant something like, ‘turn back now,’ ‘prepare to be boarded,’ or ‘this is your final warning.’
“Any trouble while I was gone?” Ana asked.
“Nah. You know me.” Gava grinned, nudging Ana with a wing. “I’m quick when I wanna be, even if I’m not sneaky like you.”
Ana nodded, half-heartedly returning her sister’s expression. “Glad you finally admit it.”
Gava wrapped a talon around each of the two throttles, slowly pushing them each as far forwards as they would go. The ship shuddered as the propellers spun faster, and bursts of steam spewed from pipes meandering across the walls.
“Think I’m on target?” Gava asked, her voice casual.
Ana gave a quick nod. “We should get going before it hits.”
“You think? What would I do without you, sis?”
Ana rolled her eyes as she shoved Gava off the controls. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
“Whoa, alright, fine!” Gava grumbled, turning for the door. “What’s up with you, huh?”
“We’ll talk when we’re safe.”
The wind whistled past them as they stepped out onto the deck. From this angle, Ana could see another one of the small Friesland ships approaching from the side, the pegasus signalmare aboard it frantically waving her wings. They were close enough that she could just make out the mare’s voice shouting commands.
A hatch in the deck opened, and Ana stiffened as the stallion she had spared climbed out, followed shortly after by the one she had knocked out with one buck.
They looked to her and Gava with wide eyes. “What the hay are you doing?!”
“You didn’t tie them up?” Gava asked. Ana could only offer up a weak shrug. “Whatever. More done than doing, anyways.” She spread her wings, flying up and away from the soon-to-be crash site.
“Wait, stop!” The sailors broke into a gallop, sprinting across the deck. “We’re flying too low!”
Ana knew they wouldn’t have time to correct course even if they did make it. Her hooves lifted off the ground as she took flight, but she found herself hesitating.
She turned to face the sailors as the ship drifted past beneath her. “You can’t save it! Abandon ship while you still can!”
They didn’t listen. One paused to shout some expletive at her, but the wind carried it away. They filed into the control room without hesitation, slamming the door shut behind them.
With a sigh, Ana looked up and flew after her sister. An odd phrase was lingering in her mind, and with a start she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had meant it.
I’m sorry.
“Whoa, apple pancakes?”
The pancakes slid onto Rainbow’s plate with a quiet plop. A small smile tugged at Applejack’s lips as she walked to her own plate, slid a few more cakes onto it, and set the pan aside on the stovetop. “Heh. Yer welcome.”
Rainbow rubbed her hooves together as she grinned down at the plate. The thick, fluffy cakes were stuffed with dried apple slices. “Where’d you get apples?”
“Heighton, before we left. Got enough to last us a good while too, I reckon.” Applejack doused her plate with a healthy helping of syrup before pushing the bottle across the table and sitting down. “Shame I couldn’t find the tree, but it’s good to taste apple again anywho.”
Rainbow caught the bottle with a wing. She upended it over her plate without hesitation, drowning the pancakes in a miniature flood of sweetness. She had barely put the bottle down before she leaned into the plate in earnest, tearing off a huge bite.
Applejack snorted, shaking her head. “Good to see yer feelin’ better, at least. Might wanna go a bit easy on that syrup, though. It’s a long trip north, and Sabre ain’t plannin’ on makin’ any stops she ain’t got to.”
Rainbow nodded enthusiastically as she swallowed. “Good! Twilight needs us there as soon as possible.”
Applejack didn’t say anything to that, but Rainbow was more than content to focus on her breakfast. It had been a long time since she’d had the opportunity to enjoy Apple Family cooking, and the familiar flavor was a welcome escape from the fears that had haunted the corners of her mind since Altalusia. The world may have ended, but there were some things that remained constant; Rainbow Dash was awesome, Applejack made delicious apple pancakes, and Twilight Sparkle would always be her friend.
Rainbow looked up, eager to share the sentiment, but the smile on her face faltered as she saw the way Applejack was looking at her plate. The cowpony had a tight-lipped frown on her face, a faint wetness pooling in her eyes.
“AJ? You alright?”
Applejack sighed, raising a hoof to her eyes. “Aw, hay, Rainbow. I’m just bein’ a silly pony. Don’t y’all mind me none.”
Rainbow licked the syrup from her lips, stealing one last glance down at her half-eaten breakfast before standing up. She walked around to her friend’s side and put a comforting wing around her shoulder.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You can talk to me.”
“I know.” Applejack shook her head down at the plate. “It’s just—well, I ain’t had an apple pancake since—y’know?”
Rainbow frowned. After a moment she gave a nod. “Yeah.”
“And it’s just, my whole life used to revolve around these li’l fruits. Apples’re what brought my family together every mornin’ and every afternoon, every day of my life. I got up today and I thought I’d make y’all breakfast, and apple pancakes just feels so right, but—” She looked up, her lower lip quivering as she looked at the empty table before her. “Oh, Celestia, I just w-wanna see my baby sister smile again!”
A sob wracked Applejack’s body, and she leaned into Rainbow’s embrace, her hat falling to the floor. Rainbow’s eye widened as her normally stoic friend began to cry in earnest, and she raised a hoof to awkwardly pat her mane in consolation.
“H-hey, it’s okay,” Rainbow said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. What was she supposed to say? Applejack always knew just what to say when ponies needed her to be there for them.
With a start, Rainbow realized that she hadn’t seen Applejack cry or show any signs of mourning since they first arrived in Heighton. How long had it been now? Almost a month, and Applejack had remained resolutely calm, a steady rock in the emotional storm of the apocalypse, lending a shoulder or a hoof whenever it was needed and never asking for anything in return.
It wasn’t right, Rainbow decided. Applejack didn’t deserve to carry that burden alone anymore than the rest of them did. Rainbow’s hooves tightened around her shoulders, pulling her best friend close.
She still didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t have to say anything.
Some of her own tears dripped down her cheeks as she thought of her parents. She’d always gotten so annoyed with them, and now she’d never have the chance to to tell them both how much they really meant to her.
But no, she would be strong, for Applejack if nothing else. She thought of Gava, tempering her tears with the smoldering heat of her anger. There would be time to mourn later.
She wasn’t sure how long it was before Applejack’s sobs died away. She let out a shuddering sigh, shaking her head against Rainbow’s chest. “Shucks, the pancakes’re gonna be all cold now.”
“I’ve eaten cold pancakes before,” Rainbow said. “They’re still pretty good.”
“I guess so. Sorry. And thanks.” Applejack pulled away, wiping her tears with a hoof as she gave Rainbow a weary smile. “Guess I’ve been holdin’ some of that in for a while.”
Rainbow grinned, picking Applejack’s hat off the ground and placing it back on her head. “I’m here for you, AJ. Just don’t let anyone else know about it, okay? I’ve got my reputation to think about!”
Applejack snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She turned back to look down at her plate. After a few seconds, “Reckon I’d better eat these. Granny’d hate for me to waste good apples.”
She sniffled, and for a moment Rainbow thought that the crying was going to start again, but Applejack pulled through. She leaned down and took a small bite, chewing slowly before swallowing.
“Land’s sakes,” she breathed, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. “These’re some good apple pancakes.”
There was a hiss of steam to the side, and both mares turned to see Flintlock step into the galley, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked between them both, perhaps noting the redness in their eyes or the wetness on their cheeks, before clearing his throat. “Either of ye seen my helmet?”
Rainbow cocked her head, exchanging a confused glance with Applejack. “Like your dive helmet?”
He nodded, walking past them to the pantry door. “Aye. Ain’t been workin’ ever since that dragon damn near burnt it off me in Old Canterlot. I set it down in th’ workshop t’ make some repairs, but th’ damn thing seems t’ have just up ’n walked off on me!”
Rainbow shrugged. “Sure you didn’t just misplace it?”
“Dash, I do not just misplace my gear,” Flint growled back at her. He opened the pantry and stepped inside, picking up a small mug and placing it under the tap of a keg of cider. He turned the spigot, frowning as nothing came out. “What th’...” He moved the mug to another keg, only to get the same result. “Wh—where’s my cider?!”
“Cider?” Rainbow echoed. “In the morning?”
“Aye, cider, at any time of day!” Flint re-emerged from the pantry with his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I got three full kegs in Heighton, ‘n two of ‘em are empty! Now every member of th’ crew knows not t’ touch my cider, so which of ye did it?”
“We didn’t do nothin’ to y’all’s cider,” Applejack said. She cocked an eye towards Rainbow. “Did we?”
“Nuh uh!” Rainbow raised a hoof, crossed it over her chest, and stuck it up to her eyepatch. “Pinkie Promise, Flint.”
Flint cocked his head, his mouth hanging slightly open. His gunmetal blue eyes darted between both mares.
“I made some pancakes,” Applejack offered, nodding towards where the last pancakes were waiting in the pan. “If’n y’all’re hungry.”
Flint’s stomach answered for him, letting out a growl that sounded even more irritated than he often did. With one last flick of his tail he walked around the table to the stovetop, grumbling under his breath, and picked up the whole pan. He mumbled out a muffled “Thanks” before taking the pancakes, pan and all, out of the galley. The door closed behind him with a burst of steam.
Rainbow immediately turned to meet Applejack’s eyes, seeing her own confusion reflected back at her. Rainbow knew Applejack would never lie, and she knew Applejack knew that she wouldn’t dare make a false Pinkie Promise, even if the party pony was separated from them by a week of airship travel across an ocean filled with monsters.
“Real mystery, ain’t it?”
“Yeah.” Rainbow rubbed at her muzzle with a wing. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
“Let’s finish eating first.”
Applejack let out a soft chuckle, her eyes twinkling as she turned back to her plate. “Bet I’ll clear my plate before y’all do.”
“You’re on!”
The ocean floor was a place of darkness, and with a small start Twilight realized that she was getting used to it.
She drifted over the submerged sands surrounded in a lavender bubble, leaving a small trail of bubbles and swirling black and red wisps in her wake. In her first experiences with the ocean, it had seemed like a malicious entity to her, almost alive. The sheer darkness that rushed in to swallow up any part of her surroundings not protected by suit or horn lights had felt like a leering monster always waiting for her to drop her guard, ready to pounce and snap her up in an instant.
Of course, Twilight had a much better idea of what a monster was now than she once did. She was no longer afraid of the dark. She couldn’t even see it anymore.
In spite of herself, she had to admit that the vision Midnight had forced upon her was useful. Past the dim glow of her shield, what was once an imposing wall of black was now revealed to be the sunken ruins of the Equestrian countryside, made all the bleaker by the complete lack of color. Most of it was unrecognizable after a millennia of deep sea erosion, but every now and then Twilight could pick out details. There, a great tree skeleton fossilized by the immense pressure of the surrounding water, and there the tarnished helmet of a Royal Guard next to a half-buried chariot.
Twilight blinked, and Midnight was standing on one of the tree branches. She looked away, only to see her dark passenger watching her from an approaching hillside. Everywhere she looked, Midnight waited in silence.
Twilight grimaced. Her horn glowed, and the crackling tingle of teleportation rushed over her body as she flung herself across the depths.
She drifted higher, rising over the fallen in corpse of what was once a large brick building, the last survivor of whatever community it may have been part of. Midnight was watching from the ruins.
She’d worn herself out in her rush to reach Canterlot after Altalusia, and now she knew to pace herself. Giving herself a few minutes between teleports ensured she could cross distances quickly without exhausting her reserves, pausing only to cook more of the changeling meat she had brought with her or take brief naps while Midnight maintained the shield spell.
Midnight.
Twilight’s doppelganger had been entirely silent since leaving Canterlot. It helped eat, it helped maintain the magic barriers that kept the ocean pressure at bay, but otherwise it just watched her with the same bloodshot smirk.
A herd of seaponies swam into view, their blind eyes snapping in her direction. They hissed, but didn’t dare to approach, giving her a wide berth as she floated past.
Midnight wanted something from her, clearly. Twilight had an idea of what it was, too, but she was loathe to grant it even if it was deserved. She let out an irritated growl as she caught sight of Midnight standing ahead on the ocean floor.
I know what you’re doing, she thought. It’s foalish.
Midnight didn’t respond, but it didn’t have to to convey its thoughts. They were two minds in one body, and it was easy to tell when one thought the other was being a hypocrite.
Twilight sighed. What was the point of it all? She had to admit that she preferred the endless mental prodding and biting humor over this dead silence. She was the one acting like a foal, and both of them knew it.
Thank you.
Oh, my. Midnight was floating in front of her, a hoof raised to its chest in mock surprise. What was that, little flower?
Twilight grit her teeth. Her horn flared, teleporting them across the sunken horizon once more. You heard me. Thank you.
Mm, isn’t that just delicious.
Could you please not make this any worse than it has to be? Twilight asked, rolling her eyes. You helped me save Spike. You helped me save my friends.
Midnight’s grin widened as it floated closer. And I saved our lives. Neither us nor them would have made it out of those ruins without me.
Twilight glared back it. I doubt they would have made it out without me, either.
Midnight arched a brow, pulling back. After a few moments it coiled its body around hers, bringing its muzzle up to her ear. A fine point, little flower. Perhaps now you realize how unstoppable we are when you move with me, hmm?
Twilight shot it a sideways scowl as she lit her horn, casting yet another teleport.
As the light of the spell faded away, Twilight took in her surroundings. Looking down, she saw that the water displaced by her teleportation had revealed the buried remains of an old railway, the wooden planks long lost to time.
It heads north.
Twilight sent a ping out north, along the direction of the rails. It came back a few seconds later, and her eyes widened with a sudden energy. A city!
Let’s not get distracted.
It’s not a distraction! We can just stop here along the way.
That sounds like a distraction!
Twilight pursed her lips. She raised a hoof to her chin in thought. We’re almost out of changeling meat. We can just stop here to— She paused, thoughts stumbling over the next word. —to replenish our supplies.
Midnight glowered at her. Both of them knew that she was more interested in exploring ruins than in food, but Twilight hadn’t been lying.
Very well. We will detour for a day, and no longer.
Twilight clapped her hooves in excitement, sending out a rapid burst of magical pings towards the city as her little glowing air bubble raced through the water. It was big, far bigger than Ponyville, and clearly urbanized. The spells came back to her, outlining the image of towering concrete buildings arranged in rigid blocks, many listing to either side or completely collapsed after weathering the floods. She ran through what she knew of Equestrian geography, trying to think of cities so directly north of Canterlot, and only one answer came to mind.
It didn’t take long for the hazy, drowned skyline of the city to come into view, confirming her theories. It was the largest inland city in North Equestria, built on the shores of the Foalga River, and with a thrill she realized that she could even make out the still-standing silhouette of the old Stallion’s Palace.
Twilight’s horn sparked a brilliant lavender as she cast a final teleport, leaving nothing but the cold, rushing water to take her place.
The siege camp had grown immensely in the three days since Rarity left it. The hill with Countess Silkie’s banner was now completely covered in her colorful tents. Copses of trees had been felled en masse, fueling the great cooking pits and lending their thick protective bark to the palisade being constructed around the camp. Even from her distant position atop Friesland’s inner wall she could see the soldiers milling about, the light sometimes flashing off the sharpened ends of the pikes swinging over their heads. No matter how hard she squinted, she couldn’t make out any distinctive coat colors, let alone the soft yellow of Fluttershy’s form.
Other sites had been claimed as well. Count Armet’s helmet emblem fluttered in the wind over the barricade he’d established across the eastern road, and Count Dane’s snarling dog could be seen standing guard in several positions within his camp, which stretched across the wide open space between the road and a distant forest. Thin columns of smoke from cooking fires filled the sky, and when the wind blew towards the city Rarity imagined she could smell the scent of meals being prepared.
“Quite the sight, isn’t it, love?”
Rarity turned to where Captain Piaffe was standing beside her. Both mares were weighed down by the rimmed helmets of the Friesland Guard, their ears tucked within thick protective covers. Though unlike Rarity, who was constantly fretting with her helmet in some vain attempt to keep it from ruining her carefully styled mane, Piaffe’s ponytail rested against her cream-coated neck just as neatly as it ever did.
With a grimace Rarity realized that Piaffe was referring to the bulwark of defenses surrounding the city. “I’m afraid I’ve never been a mare with an appreciation for military architecture.”
“Are you not an artist, Countess?” Piaffe asked, looking back with a smirk. “Or were you just pulling my tail last night, Pinkie?”
“Nuh uh!” Pinkie’s helmet seemed to be struggling to contain the wild puffiness of her mane. She gave an exaggerated shake of her head, the helmet teetering dangerously with the motion. “She’s an artiste from nose to toes!”
“I am a seamstress,” Rarity corrected, turning her muzzle up as Pinkie giggled behind them. “A mare of culture. I don’t see how it’s at all relevant.”
“Well, as a mare of culture, I imagine you can appreciate the production of generations of talent and earnest labor.” Piaffe draped one hoof over Rarity’s shoulder, pulling her in close and directing her vision down to the defenses below. “You see how the strongpoints of the first wall cover each other, ensuring that no defender is ever left unsupported? Cannons in receded firing positions, and rails so they can be quickly pulled back to the second level if the first is overwhelmed. And the Frieslanders themselves!”
If Piaffe noticed the way that Rarity had stiffened at the contact, she didn’t have the decency to care. She instead directed her attention up to the wide, squat tower that melded into the wall behind them. The wide bore of the Frieslander was just visible from where they stood, poking over the edge of the tower.
“The ultimate defenders of the city, the great mortars that no cannon on the island can ever hope to match, designed by one of Friesland’s own Gifted on her deathbed! They’re the final stroke on a canvas of military engineering unparalleled in all of northern Equestria!”
Rarity rolled her eyes as she peeled Piaffe’s hoof away from her shoulder and took a meaningful step to the side. “Don’t you think you’re being rather melodramatic, darling?” Pinkie let out a quiet snort behind them.
“Ah, perhaps I am.” Piaffe raised a hoof to adjust the lapels of her coat, looking down at the bluecoated soldiers garrisoning the lower wall with obvious pride. “But it is an art, dearheart, even if you don’t understand it. It’s the art of all of Friesland. Have you never had to deal with a pony who didn’t respect your art?”
Rarity pursed her lips, looking away with a begrudging frown. “Yes, I suppose I have.”
It was madness, wasn’t it? Here this mare stood, speaking of weapons of war and instruments of destruction with the same breathless energy with which Rarity herself once explained the latest fashions of each Canterlot season to her friends. Rarity looked down at the craters that disfigured the shattered farms outside of Friesland and she saw the work of monsters. And yet, in spite of herself, she could empathize.
How many times had Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes and fallen asleep in the dressing room after Rarity excitedly dragged her into modeling for her? How often did she get into pointless squabbles over Applejack when the farm mare derided her most passionate works as little more than petty wastes of time? And now here she was doing the same thing to a whole city of ponies, if Piaffe was to be believed. Thousands of them must have collectively toiled over the fortifications over a century of effort, and all she could bring herself to do was curl her lip and dismiss it as some sinister mistake.
It was an art, wasn’t it, in its own bloody, horrifying, destructive way? Was the process of creation deserving of respect, even if the end product was a source of such pain?
At length, Rarity let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Captain. From one artist to another.”
“No apology necessary, love. I’m sure you’ve dealt with the same many times before.”
“Ready!”
Rarity’s eyes shot wide open at the hoarse voice of the sergeant directing the cannon crew behind and above them. She dropped onto her haunches, slapping her hooves tight over her earmuffs and pressing the scratchy wool against her head.
For a few, brief seconds, silence reigned. Rarity caught movement in the distance as a squad of Friesland skirmishers ran into view, baron troopers hot on their heels.
“Fire!”
It was the single loudest thing Rarity had ever heard in her life, louder than she had ever imagined were possible. The blast of the cannon made her hooves sore, pressed against her eyelids no matter how hard she shut them, and made every bone in her body shudder with such violence that for a moment she was stricken with a heart-wrenching fear that her skeleton might simply burst free in panic.
She had no sense of how long it took for the thunder to pass. Her ears will still ringing when she opened her eyes, and there was still a distant rumble racing into the distance like a menacing dragon chasing the horizon. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes just in time to see the blast of the impact. She thanked Celestia that she wasn’t close enough to make out any details among the debris tossed into the air.
A chorus of cheers rose up from the cannon crew, audible even through the stone of the tower and the ringing in Rarity’s ears by the sheer weight of their numbers. With another blink, Rarity realized that she had thrown herself to the ground in her panic, and that Captain Piaffe was stomping her hooves in applause.
“Good shot, loves!” she cheered, raising a hoof in salute to the ponies silhouetted along the top of the tower. “That’s the Friesland way!”
“Load!”
The crew’s cheers faded to an excited chatter as the sergeant’s stern command pushed them into action. Rarity could see the cannon’s smoking barrel being lowered to rest even with the rim of the tower. A pair of thickset mares climbed up with a wooden rod between them, the exertion clear on their soot-stained faces as they jammed a wool sponge into the massive bore.
Pinkie Pie slowly straightened back up, her brow furrowed and her mane having gone limp enough for her helmet to finally fit snugly against her head. “W-what did you need to do that for?”
“They’re invaders, Pinkie,” Piaffe said as Rarity picked herself up off the ground. “They want to take our way of life from us, and they’ll do it by force if we let them. We’re merely defending ourselves. They can leave at any time.”
“Except they don’t want to fight you.” Rarity’s voice was soft and bitter, her eyes fixated on the newest crater. Would Fluttershy be able to save any of the ponies struck by the blast? “This whole ordeal is over the question of one mare paying for the damages that she alone caused!”
“With respect, Countess, this conflict has little to do with the fate of one mare, even one as influential as Duchess Nettlekiss.”
Rarity frowned, but said nothing. Piaffe nodded to herself as she continued.
“Friesland has been at ends with the rest of the island since its founding. We’ve clashed with the barons many times, though thankfully they’ve always been so busy posturing against each other that we never had to deal with more than a few at a time. It’s because they know what we are, you see? Free cities are not common in baronlands, Countess. Inevitably one side will destroy the other, and, well.” Piaffe nodded up towards the Frieslander’s tower, where pairs of cannoneers rushed to roll bundles of powder half as big as they were into place to be rammed into the barrel. “Defenses like these are not built without purpose. In some ways, Friesland has always been under siege, even if the barons weren’t clever enough to realize it.”
“And you’re fine with all that?” Rarity asked, glaring at the other unicorn.
Piaffe shrugged. The confident smile never left her face. “Truthfully, love, philosophy and politics isn’t my place. On the day to day I’m just another soldier defending her home, but the mind does tend to wander when you spend a few years standing on this wall.”
There was the sound of clicking machinery from the Frieslander, and Rarity looked up to see a heavy iron ball raised up to the rim of the tower. Two ponies rolled it into place in front of the lowered barrel, where another duo shoved it inside with grunts of exertion. All four of them climbed down out of sight as the barrel was raised back into the firing position.
“Ready!”
“Say, isn’t that airship flying really low?”
Rarity arched a brow as she followed Pinkie’s extended hoof. A large trade ship was hurtling over the city, angled down towards the ground. A trio of small Friesland patrol boats were advancing on it from all sides attempting to cut it off, but it was clear even from a quick glance that the ship wasn’t attempting any escape.
A pair of winged silhouettes separated from the ship and raced upwards. Rarity stiffened as she recognized the shapes, one large and bulky, the other thin and graceful.
She barely had time to contemplate it before the airship crashed into the city, colliding at full speed with the blocky stone architecture of an old keep. The stones may have once been formidable defenses, but they were old and worn down, and either way were no match for the might of a hundred tons of hard metal. Likewise the ship was not designed to be used as a battering ram, and it fragmented into a dozen pieces on impact, a few large chunks bouncing off and spinning into the surrounding city.
Rarity hissed in pain as a brilliant flash of light flared into being and burned at her eyes, forcing her to lower her head and raise a hoof to protect herself. The sound of the explosion hit her barely a second after, the hot shockwave pushing her back a step with its strength. By the time the light faded enough for her to look up, the screams had already started.
A great plume of smoke was rising up in the middle of the city, pushed upwards in angry, swirling clouds by the hot flames curling up beneath them. Chunks of stone arced through the air, leaving black trails in their wake as they crashed back down onto the city, the sharp cracks of their impact quickly drowned out by the rumble of collapsing architecture.
“Oh my gosh!” Pinkie broke out into a gallop without hesitation, her wheels bouncing along behind her. “Those ponies need our help!”
Captain Piaffe stomped a hoof. “Stop her!”
A trio of the bluecoats on the wall jumped into action at the sharp command. They cut Pinkie off, hemming her in with the rifles at their sides and the sharp horns on their helmets.
“W-what? Why?!” Pinkie turned around with tears in her eyes. “I just want to help, Piaffe! I thought we were friends!”
“Captain Piaffe, we don’t have time for this!” Rarity insisted, stepping forward. “We must render aid as soon as we can!”
Piaffe rounded on her, eyes hard. “You will do no such thing.”
Rarity frowned at the unusual coldness of her tone. “Surely you aren’t suggesting—”
“You’re diplomats of the very armies camped outside our walls, and one of our munitions stockpiles has just been destroyed in a clear act of sabotage,” Piaffe said curtly. “Regardless of my feelings on the matter, I’m responsible for all of you, and you will be escorted back to my home immediately for your own safety. As a lady of fine bearing, I assume you will go peacefully.”
Rarity pursed her lips, meeting Piaffe’s narrowed eyes with confidence. She was confident that no member of her delegation would be involved in such a bloody and heartless act, but she could see there was no point in arguing it here.
“Very well, then,” she said, keeping her voice carefully level. “We will return to our rooms, for now.”
Piaffe nodded. “Good.” She turned to the watching soldiers. “Bring these two to my residence. Nobody is to leave or enter aside from myself and the delegates.”
“Yes, Captain!”
“Well, with that handled—” Piaffe turned so sharply that her ponytail bounced around to her other shoulder. She didn’t look back as she trotted for the nearest stairwell. “Until later, dearhearts! Don’t cause any trouble!”
Rarity watched her go with her legs shaking underneath her. She turned to Pinkie and saw her own shock reflected back at her, but there was nothing either one of them could do. Trying to run would only make things worse.
As the soldiers led Rarity and Pinkie down the narrow stairwell underneath the Frieslander, she found herself wondering if she had just become a prisoner.