//------------------------------// // Chapter 39 // Story: Borrowed Time // by Gambit Prawn //------------------------------// Canterlot at any time of the day was a veritable labyrinth. While navigation at night was another matter, the midday rumbling of thousands of pony lives intersecting was effectively an obstacle in itself. Windy was weaving between the adults with masterful skill, stopping occasionally to wave at me to follow. I had thought I had a flair for such finesse; however, the little—yes, admittedly still larger than me—pegasus showed the flawless technique of a Canterlot native. Curious, I stopped beneath the shade of an apricot vendor’s cart to gauge Windy’s reaction. For a moment, I admired the city planning. In between adjacent, often heterogeneous, buildings, there was usually a grassy area that formed a little island in the middle of the stone and concrete. These served as perfect parking spots for mobile salesponies who could quite literally set up shop, without impeding those taking a shortcut to neighboring streets.  I began to grow bored, but my patience had apparently exceeded that of the multi-colored pegasus. I had never lost sight of her, but she seemed doubtful and trotted back.  “Come on, River, what are you waiting for!? We need to find the place quick or I might forget.” “Forget what?” I asked, with a rehearsed nonchalance.  The filly’s snout tensed momentarily. “What do you mean? I want to show you where I found that interesting rock, silly!” She doesn’t seem too enthused. I’m not either, so why are we doing this? I wondered with a mischievous grin. I supposed it wasn’t too strange when I looked at it in context. Much of what I did in Equestria seemed to promise whimsy, but my enthusiasm averaged out as tepid at best.   Windy talked my ear off about nothing in particular as we started to venture beyond what was known territory for me. While she was typically talkative, the focus of discussion seemed a bit more volatile than usual. I chiseled my responses down to pleasant nothingness I had come to associate with princess diplomacy. I almost surprised myself at how good I was at it. “We’re almost there!” Windy announced, chipper. “Great!” I replied, effectively treating it as a challenge to one-up her upbeat attitude. I found it an amusing irony that what my forced interest concealed was that I was interested in the rock, after all. Well, I suppose burying anything about Rhod makes it doubly wise to execute a feint within a feint. I hadn’t even considered that. We finally made it to the outskirts of the city. The congestion of buildings had seemed to clear up with each sidestreet. “We made it! It’s over here!” the pegasus filly cheered. I looked left and right. I was somewhat surprised by the openness of the dirt lot. While there was nothing of interest, it was effectively an eight-way intersection where the same number of side streets terminated. My ears stood up on their own and swept across their limited range of motion like a radar antenna. It was one of those uncommon occurrences that occasionally reinforced that I was all pony now. Wordlessly, Windy Skies pointed to what appeared to be a mound of dirt protruding from the earth like a flattened sandcastle. As I approached, she hopped down the six inches from the top of the tiny hill. It felt absurd to step up when prompted, but a pitfall was a truly cartoonish thing to expect. Unfortunately, by the time I had the sense to realize that this characterization made it all the more likely, I already had four hooves planted on top of it. What have we here? So familiar… No, that wouldn’t make any sense. “Windy, you said you found that strange rock here?” “Right,” she said, impatient In spite of my senses screaming that there were multiple presences encroaching upon us, I still found what I was standing on more and more interesting. So the rhodium she found isn’t a coincidence, after all. Standing here—it feels like home… “Hey, ‘Windy,’ what made you choose that rock to show me?” I asked. “No reason. Hey, look at that: my back-up’s here.” The filly wiped her face with a hoof, as if disgusted with the form itself. “Man, I hate impersonating fillies. They’re full of such nonsense. Well, in any event, we can dispense with all the rock talk. Come along quietly and maybe there will be… cupcakes? Ponies like cupcakes, right?” I smirked, pulling the fascinating rock out of my saddlebags. “You really don’t understand my question, do you? Why this rock? Or am I to believe you thought any rock would lure me here, and you just happened to pluck this one from your ambush site?” Windy’s expression went totally blank and she mouthed “yes” despite not voicing it. I roared with laughter, facehooving my forehead unintentionally.  “Are you serious!? What luck, oh my!” She just stumbles upon an incredibly rare metal. I chuckled again at the absurdity. The magic in this one is amazing. I’ve held shards before, but nothing with this kind of magic. The crowd of mares and stallions now surrounding us slithered closer. Windy smiled, with only a measure of doubt. “Whether your taunts show insight, or just insanity, nothing has changed. If in fact it is luck, we will happily rake in our winnings.” I laughed again as I casually juggled the rock with one hoof. “You misunderstand: the luck is mine! Turns out the cheese I have here was an exorbitant bribe to offer this savvy mouse.” Windy stamped her front hooves. “Seize her!” she ordered, which sounded hilarious coming from her. “Ah, yes, enough of that.” I agreed. “STAR! Any time now!” I made aggressive eye contact. “So, ‘Windy,’ you really think a pseudo-royal alicorn wouldn’t have personal guards?” I feigned impatience by drumming my hooves on the dirt. The imposter’s haughtiness returned. “Ah, yes, about those guards. We might say they are preoccupied…” The filly laughed, but her aura was totally ruined by the black strand of her multicolored mohawk mane falling over her left eye. “Seriously!? How does Windy Skies manage to keep this blasted mane upright!? I’ve tried like four different hair sprays!” I waited for the informal time-out for shenanigans to end before countering. “You actually managed to pull Star Chart away from me?” I would have laughed again, but I didn’t want to try and one-up my adversary once more. I would simply let my bare hooves do the talking.  The imposter waved the crowd of ponies closer. “It was all technique and careful planning, my little pony. Whether you understand it or not, we’ll be grabbing you now. Say goodbye to Canterlot.” For a single moment, I was genuinely afraid. If there was a 1% likelihood that I was wrong about what was in the palm of my… hoof? I would be completely bluffing. As it was, though— “This should be fun,” I said with an unassuming tone. I stretched and threw a few punches. “Now I can fight with total disregard for what my pony caretakers might think.” I beamed, once more in my element. “I’ll be making my escape now, if you don’t mind.” The faux filly fumed. “Oh please! You don’t even know how to fly yet! And even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to lose our fastest flyers.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you actually going to make me say it? I’ll be making my way out of here through you. And all I need is this wonderful little rock.” Right on cue the first of my opponents spread his forelegs wide and motioned to grab me. Without even looking back, I chucked the rock with a supercharged throw. I missed his head intentionally but it would certainly leave a bruise on his barrel, which he fell to the ground clutching. “Windy’s” jaw dropped, but she quickly comported her facial expression back to arrogance.  Undeterred, more of the crowd galloped towards me, arriving simultaneously. I dropped down to a crouch and violently swept around myself with my hind legs. With that one powerful motion, I mowed down the opposition. Wearing the most intimidating expression my pony muzzle could muster, I hopped over the sprawled out bodies of my temporarily fallen foes.     I was left facing a bespectacled black and brown stallion. It was a moment of weakness that I wasted a half-second wondering why this moron had brought his glasses to a fight. “That’s impossible! Earth magic aside, your limbs are much too short to—” I punched towards him, shattering his glasses and hitting him right between the eyes. “Astute observation,” I acknowledged, watching him tip over in response to my display of unexpected range. But I had to quickly jolt my body into motion again, as the next wave didn’t allow me time to resume a fighting stance. With a firm grip on the ground, I shoved off and shot up like a pogo stick. With some mid-air acrobatics, I landed in an open area. Assuming everypony was an enemy, I sprinted headlong at a somewhat intimidated mare and pounded her barrel with a quick thrust before she had time to marvel at how quickly I had closed the distance between us.  Ah, how I’ve missed this feeling—the art of my people! I mused, practically high off the nostalgia. I stared at the cobblestone road, almost suspicious of this surefire escape route. I tapped the ground firmly, perplexed. Do I really want to run? I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fight like this again! Two stocky stallions hustled in front of me and took the choice out of my hooves. The relief I felt changed my turbulent emotions to pristine clarity.  The two stallions in front of me looked like character actors, as if there was a casting call for the most thuggish ponies Canterlot had to offer. Given their leader's apparent ability to mimic Windy’s appearance, it was possible that they assumed such forms following precisely that criteria. Then again, their armored forelegs didn’t mesh with this impression. And to their credit, they didn’t charge immediately, having seen the ease at which I had defeated the others. The one on the left snorted with disdain, daring me to strike first. Nonplussed, I took a bold step forward to feel them out. They retreated—a strategic decision as the street narrowed due to some less than pleasing aesthetic features of the vacant buildings. I casually checked the movements of the “ponies” behind me. They started to spread out somewhat, in the hope that I wouldn’t jump my way out again.  If you only react to what I’ve shown you, you’ll be in for an unpleasant time indeed.  The pony on the right stomped a hoof, apparently offended by my nonchalance. “Don’t you understand your situation? Earth pony magic aside, Españeighan steel will withstand anything!” I jabbed a hoof lightly towards him, and he rose his armored foreleg to intercept my lazy attack. I cautiously thrust again, a little higher, and then twice more. He and his counterpart deflected each attack with expert skill.  So they’re not just guessing, huh? Although they wrongfully ascribe the source, looks like it’s similar enough to prime them on what to look for. “Here’s something earth pony magic can’t do,” I gloated. In one motion I stepped back, planted my hindlegs on the ground, traced a circle with my left forehoof and threw a punch at an intuitively estimated angle. The two brutes shielded their faces instinctively, but for only a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “You missed!” taunted the stallion on the left. "What’s wrong, little filly? Haven’t got on the trigonometry track yet—uGGH! UGH AHHWW!!” In less than a single second, he and his counterpart were pelleted by dozens of downwardly accelerating blows raining down.  I hissed in dissatisfaction. Xuva was never my best technique. I briefly lamented that it only worked in this instance since I had the raw power behind it. I never could match Diane’s affinity for the higher-order techniques. And now that we were the same gender, I couldn’t blame the known masculine handicap. I heard a single set of hoofbeats closing in on me from behind. “You see? It’s more than just pressurized air.” I lectured. I kicked a hind leg with as hard as this body would allow, bowling over another “pony” trying to take me by surprise.  “That was air pressure,” I said to nopony in particular. I took a moment to deliberately assess my situation. I had had my fun, and though I liked my chances, it was clearly time to bail. There was one more idiot running ahead of the pack, armed with an iron chain he must’ve found lying around. He ran headlong towards me while swinging it carelessly. I stepped back only to avoid a collision with his body. I caught the makeshift weapon between my front hooves and pulled with little restraint. He was jerked towards me with frightening speed, and in response, I let go on the chain, jumped and planted both rear hooves on his flank. “Windy” alighted at the front of the pack, signaling with a variety of motions to the crowd behind her. “Quite a ‘rock’ you had there." She said, clearly trying to suss out my abilities.  “Need I say that it’s not just the rock itself?” I taunted. I then followed up with a half-truth: "You handed me a rare metal infused with magic that enhances the abilities of earth ponies. By absorbing its power, even a filly like me is a match for your hodgepodge mob.” I waited for as long as I could without the situation around me changing. Although it was a very Equestrian thing to explain my abilities, I reasoned that pretending to do so may entice my enemies to reveal something valuable. Without hesitation, I kicked behind me towards one of the partially armored stallions to ensure he remained down. I could tell my alert reaction vexed the imposter filly. Looks like she’s not tempted to tell me anything. As a precaution, I continued scanning the battlefield for any gaps I could slip through. I had seemingly gotten all I could from the doppelganger of Windy Skies; I could come back later to resolve the mystery of this strange area. Although beating up on amateurs was still satisfying, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that there was someone among them that could put up a fight. “I’d tell you to go on, but I’m sure you’ll tell the queen everything in due course,” she boasted. I suppose that’s something. A rival monarchy, perhaps? One that specializes in shapeshifting? I shook my head in an unspoken rebuke to myself. I had more than enough intel to tell my own “queen.” At this point, there was no doubt it was pure, foolish pride urging me not to run.  With one quick jump, I completely turned myself around and darted in between the two unconscious stallions. I felt a satisfying wind on my face as I dashed freely down the street, triumphantly… crashing into something very, very... solid. It took me a second to shake off the pain; my thoughts were mostly directed at thanking myself for having the sense to maintain at least a thin defensive barrier around myself. I took a second of concentrated effort to get back on four hooves again. When the searing pain in my horn actually got worse, I had to admit there were unique considerations when it came to using the power of Rhod in Equestria. Apparently, my horn didn’t agree with my foreign techniques. Nonetheless, my fighting instincts had held up, and this was proven anew by my automatic occupation of the free space between me and Windy’s goons. “I see: you have all eight directions closed off with these barriers?” I asked, to stall more than anything else. “Windy” said nothing, merely signaling with circular motions of a forehoof. I charged, even as I simultaneously existed in a state of indecision. This changed when I identified a threat. My hoof crashed into the ribcage of a mare, who was attempting some kind of incantation. They surely had seen my unnatural speed by now, but actually adapting to it was another matter entirely. “Take out the long-range spellcasters first. Bears or ponies, the logic remains.” I methodically looked around, hunting for the next threat  As if challenging my softly spoken declaration, a volley of magical energies was sent my way. I slowed my predatory prowl down to a crawl allowing the attacks to converge on me. Crossing into my aura, they hung in the air as if caught in syrup. I could feel the blobs of energy as if they were my own. I didn’t expect that, but I can make this work. “Time to throw your attack right on back,” I quipped. “Eat this!”  The mob scattered in response to my bluff. I took a deep breath and gripped the ground to finally push off as hard as I could. Accelerating madly, I zigzagged between the various individual enemies. Blows delivered with the caprice of a fickle hummingbird, sampling every flower in sight—a thrust here, a kick there, the occasional strike with pressurized air, just the basics. The foreign magical energy slowly faded from my cloak of magic. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a red smear slowly start to fade away.  Rhodium changes magic. No wonder mine and Equestria’s are oil and water.  “She’s bluffing! Don’t scatter! That’s what she wants!” Windy ordered, leaving little remaining doubt as to who was in charge of this operation. I pretended to ignore her and continued pounding her subordinates. “Stop fainting, you cowards! Group up and the advantage will be ours.” Somewhat timidly, the tall “ponies” surrounding me started to clump together. Admittedly this tactic was more effective, as the first group moved carefully and left me no room to knife between them. After quickly calculating the odds of the restrained approach bearing fruit, I funneled more of the power to my perimeter. I let loose a savage yell and sent my adversaries flying, all in a bunch. Some of them even landed on top of each other. It was a crude method, but fortunately, they had no way of knowing the technique’s weak point.  Concerned, I drew most of the power back into my core. Not good. Shielding myself from that collision took more out of me than I’d thought. Despite seeing the results of their allies’ implementation of “Windy’s” strategy, the phalanx of minions organized themselves into a line, like a proper army.  The streets behind me are wide open. They’re not even trying to hide that the barrier has full coverage. I grinned. I wasn’t about to run. I knew once I took out “Windy Skies,” I could just keep hitting her until she tells me the way out. The ponies at the head of the battalion broke into a trot, and row by row, an impetus seemed to spread until at least three dozen were galloping straight at me. Making sure to keep my Equestrian magic quarantined, I directed as much of my power as I could in my right forehoof. I visualized the energy slowly condensing into a single point, and then released. Before the energy had completely escaped me, I mentally sculpted my attack to fundamentally change its properties and the nature of the compression. My technique sped towards the center of the mob, brimming with energy, like a chemical reaction yearning to burst from its restrictive vessel. The unseen energy clipped a mare near the front on the nose, burning some fur. She was apparently the exception as the others dodged the magic bullet instinctively.  “That’s all?” “But it felt—” “I thought—” “Like it could’ve killed—” Ah. I finally figured it out: I told everypony sarcastically that I liked rocks on the first day of school, because my favorite color was gray. That’s what’s the deal is with all those rocks.  “You idiots! Now’s the time to pounce! She misfired with a lot of ener— WEHAAHHHHHHH!” The first bang erupted at the epicenter of where I aimed. Those with inside positions were launched into the air. A cascade of further explosions rippled through the entire group, bodies colliding. Each pop seemingly triggered three more. For the finale, the remnants of my attack ricocheted wildly between the unfortunate ponies left standing. One stallion in particular looked like he was getting slapped in the face repeatedly. With the last pop, a dissonant silence fell upon the forgotten corner of Canterlot we had turned into a battlefield. Every single one of my foes had been bowled over. I made my way over to the pile in a triumphant slow walk. “You—what did you do?” Asked one of the partially armored stallions I had previously knocked out. In response, I simply raised a hoof. “EEEEEEEEEEP!” he shrieked, bolting back towards where I had bested him before. I patiently observed him as he attempted to make his escape. A moment later, I heard the thwack of his muzzle hitting the barrier at full speed. So either the mage is on the outside, or the spell persists even with the caster knocked out. I felt the overwhelming power begin to subside, as I had predicted. Ranabe took more energy—magical energy, I supposed. There were like four different types of magic in Equestria itself, so I reasoned the term could accommodate Rhodish geomancy.  It amazed me how concentrated the magic in that little slab of rhodium was. If there were any doubts that rhodium was a magic-trapping sink, my performance had put them to bed. I inhaled. It was as if I could smell the palpable residue of my ethereal attack. Considering a shockingly brief time in Equestria had given me the ability to see magic, such a possibility wasn’t out of the question. As if corroborating up my argument, my earth pony senses chimed in with detailed data on the soil beneath me, information that I hadn’t learned to decipher yet.    To finish my contemplation of alicorn attributes, I looked to the sky. I was somewhat surprised to see it wasn’t even mid-afternoon. Fighting with abandon certainly warped one’s perception of time.     I dashed back to the pile, hoping to excavate the false Windy Skies and find my way out of this dump. Upon taking a closer look at my vanquished opponents, I was frozen and appalled. The ponies appeared… disfigured. Something was subtly off. While they looked like ponies, a million little things were wrong.  My first feeling was that of guilt, wondering if I had somehow corrupted them with foreign magic. I then recalled earlier seeing the immiscible magic— I jumped. A sudden vortex began brewing at the center of the pony pile. I only started to strategize once the vacuum sensation had faded. While at first I had mistaken it for a hurricane, a shrill laugh cut through any confusion. I jerked my head towards the source and saw exactly who I had expected: Maniacal Laughter. She was handling a gargantuan vacuum and was floating in the air on a flying carpet of all things. “Excellent! Excellent. With my Removal-Limo anypony can make a getaway in style!” The unconscious “ponies” started to be sucked into the air and into the evil gizmo. After verifying that I wasn’t being targeted, I had just enough time to contemplate the fact that losing sight of Windy would jeopardize my escape. Fortunately, my trained kinetic vision didn’t falter and left me certain: I did not see the faux filly amongst the flying fallen. I calculated how much of my remaining magic would be needed to send the flying annoyance crashing to the ground.  My entire being jolted from the realization. The barrier! Without another moment wasted, I fired a pulse down the closest street. Because it was only a few seconds removed from my magic-extended periphery, I could sense a fraction of it ricochet back at me. In an instant I had what I needed: the barrier still stood, and it would mostly absorb whatever Rhodish techniques I threw at it. The method I had used was a crude one, one that had been abandoned for all practical purposes on Rhod. I would have marveled at its situational usefulness, but the adrenaline was still flowing freely and my thought process confined itself to the immediately relevant details.   Do I knock her out? No, that’s what I thought before. But how’d she get in?  Was she always here? There’s no way I would miss her! Even if a “pony” like that could somehow lay low, if she were projecting the barrier there would be some sign—from my Equestrian magic sense if nothing else. How could I—Equestrian!! I briefly panicked. I had been so possessed by the sensation of combat that I hadn’t stopped to consider my pony senses—to truly listen to them. They’d never left, but hearing them was no substitute for listening I instantly righted the ship and reached out with my three alicorn faculties.  I quickly came to the realization that I didn’t know a darned thing about pegasi’s perception of magic. While it was a fairly weak correlation, knowing my native geomancy let me feel a vague something with earth magic. Fortunately, my unicorn senses could compensate for any deficiency and confirmed what I felt.   She’s not the source, but— I charged at the slight abnormality and slashed at the epicenter with a forehoof.   Instead of providing a satisfying squishing sensation, it felt like kicking a soccer ball. Confused, I looked upward and saw that my assumption had been correct: I was dealing with some strange flora. The plump, orange mushroom spun awkwardly several times in mid-air before hitting the soft ground with a lame thud. Truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect. What my senses were telling me was absurd, but the evidence was persuasive. “Ow…. ow… okay, that one did hurt,” I heard a childish voice buzz. Before my eyes, the mushroom folded outwards to reveal a chitinous core. As the flaps changed orientation and began to shrink, the core expanded into the shape of a quadruped bug. Its exoskeleton was reflective and porous. The blue eyes were monochrome and resembled plastic. While I was doing an adequate job at containing my confusion, it was strangely relaxing to watch the former surface of the mushroom stretch and mold itself into a pair of bug wings. I waited for him to grow, but he remained foal-sized. After that expectation had faded, I stared at him with feigned disinterest while I shifted my native mana to complement a defensive stance. Child or not, he was dangerous. The creature blinked its eyes and looked me over. “You don’t seem surprised,” the creature observed. I shook my head in response. “I lost my bearings long ago when it comes to the strange. I’m more surprised to not hear a perky, girlish voice coming from you anymore.” “He” hissed. “I get that a lot. I hate playing fillies; they’re so hyper and playful all the time. Just my luck that I’m second-to-none at imitating them. At least as a supervillain, I get to slather on the hamhoofedness.”  So he’s The Miser. Useful information, but he’s trying to stall. As I took a mighty first step, I had him instantly in my sights. I wound up to strike with a forehoof.  His body convulsed and he contorted to present his back as a target. I could almost imagine a bright yellow sheen starting to form.  I had no choice but to follow-through with the motion I had started. A bluff, I reassured myself with what little time I did have. Although I struck him hard, he must have known I was holding back. I wouldn’t let him rely on that assumption a second time. Pushing off with the hoof I used to strike him, I brought the other forehoof to bear. This time, instead of the expected solid contact, I felt a putty-like shifting. A second later, my involuntary screams filled the air. My body convulsed, with an agonizing electric current spreading to seemingly every nerve I had. It took everything I had to just pull back.  The convulsive muscle spasms allowed me to conclude that this wasn’t cheap imitation electricity, either. I grit my teeth and tried to ride it out. “My specialty: a partial morph to an electric eel. They never see it coming,” he boasted. He turned back around, with his rear now facing me as he began to change once more. He glanced at me with an improbable blush on his bug face. “It’s just a spinneret! Don’t stare!”  It’s not like I can choose where to look at the moment. I thought with distaste.  He paused. “Then again, I suppose I can spare myself the effort of tying you up. Hey, ML, if you’ve got everyone buckled in, can I get a little help here?” The ridiculous mare sucked one last pony into her contraption and laughed. “I would, my pretty little partner, but I have a date with Rising Sun tonight!” The flying carpet rapidly accelerated and sliced across the open air, totally unimpeded by the barrier. “Wait! She can’t—” he sighed, looking at me for some kind of consolation. “What an idiot… nopony’s getting through the barrier. She should know—she made it.” I punched him in the face. “OW!! I thought you were out for the —couOWWWW!!” He recoiled from my second punch. “And up to now, I had thought you were smarter than your average villain.”  As a retort, he swung his entire body around and kicked with both hind hooves. I dodged with plenty of room to spare, cautiously awaiting the next surprise. He charged and our front hooves collided and interlocked, somehow.  I still didn’t fully understand pony physics, and I chastised myself for wasting a thought on it. Instead, I relied on my intuition to tell me that the tense equilibrium between our non-hands could be broken by either of us at any moment.  “As expected: you may know more magic tricks than an average unicorn filly, but you must be running on fumes at this point.” I quickly threw my body into a front flip, swinging my rear hooves over my withers while breaking the tension just as I needed to, resulting in a very much unexpected kick to the back of his neck.  If he thought he had gotten a rise about me, he was right. How dare here— even indirectly—call me an average filly. I gently shoved off of him. I spun in the air and prepared to throw all my weight down on him.  He twitched beneath me before deliberately raising his back once more. You ARE NOT going to psyche me out. This time you really are bluffing. I connected with his outer shell and felt a satisfying crunch.  And… a pang of sympathy.  I let out a gasp. A moment later, I audibly scoffed at my own weakness. I had implicitly accepted the fact that I wouldn’t be going for the kill in this situation. I could sell myself on the practical problems of such an act, if I didn’t want to consider an emerging sense of compassion; however, I even found myself worrying if his exoskeleton would recover. And he was the enemy!  So I distracted myself for a moment. I was right: he can’t do two at once. The spinneret isn’t gone yet, so no electric eel. Fortunately, my opponent seemed no worse for wear. “I see: you—”  He blocked my jump kick. “Enough talk!” I barked out.  Given how this world worked, I’d probably start explaining my techniques if I kept gabbing. A kick from me, a perfect block from him. Another kick another perfect block. A series of quick jabs and he weaves between them. He thrusts with perfect timing, and I time my dodge just as perfectly. Curious, I unleashed another flurry of attacks. He fluidly responded to each motion I made. My attack was a standard sequence, transformed with my human form, that I had mastered through thousands of repetitions. Ideal combat would be free-flowing, but given the small window available for decisions in practice, mastery lay in stitching together finite rehearsed sequences.  I took a glancing blow to the face to get back on offense. With deceitful intent, I uncanned the same violent motions. He was better prepared the second time, validating my estimation of him. He does have decent fighting instincts. He deflected my dainty princess hoof with ease. For sure, we had surprised each other.  “I’ll tell you, just as I told Rising Sun: I’m no slouch when it comes to fighting.” I smirked. And he just had to say it. So uncool... Preferring to make my disapproval known kinesthetically, I threw a hook at him as an opener, then a kick, before initiating my attack pattern yet again. Without warning, in the midst of it, I dropped down low and swept my hindlegs under him in an attempt to take out his legs. I made solid contact with three of the four legs, but he hopped up on the fourth in an attempt to avoid me. I struck his underside with my head, like an incensed bull. It would have been a satisfying countermove, but I forgot a “little” detail. My opponent weakly coughed a few times as he forcibly picked himself up after being floored. “I had thought I wasn’t underestimating you, but for a princess to use her horn like that—that’s gutsy!”  I nodded stoically.  On the inside, shooting pain sped through my long alicorn horn, like a series of cascading whirlpools. When the intensity had spread evenly throughout, it started pulsing. Somehow it kept getting worse and worse.  I’m going to really hurt myself if I keep forgetting that. After three seconds of silence, he made a cryptic comment: “Don’t underestimate her? It’s not like she knows about our bond.” He turned his attention back towards me. “I assure you: you will need more than mere tricks to topple me!” he boasted. A tense moment passed as we locked eyes. Simultaneously, we both started to gallop at full speed. He went for a headbutt that was so reckless that I could predict his next move. Right on cue, a pair of long minotaur horns sprouted from his skull, perfect for goring me.  Nonetheless, I saw opportunity. I swiftly stepped back and carefully timed my jump. With a downward sweep of my hind legs I made contact with the base of his left horn. He screamed as his headgear was hammered with such force that it started to crack his exoskeleton as the left horn was torn from its home. “Turns out I know more than a few tricks,” I said with boredom directed at his pedestrian bravado. It’s just like those traitors back home that fought for the enemy. The ones with protrusions where they don’t belong—it can take some time to develop the connective tissue and cartilage to support them. He screamed a second time upon seeing the separated horn plop on the ground. Yet, when I moved in to finish him off, he willed his body into action to block, still howling all the while. We exchanged blows for about fifteen seconds before the yelling finally stopped. A moment later, we strategically dropped back at the same time. “I don’t know about you, but I can keep doing this all day. I can win any war of attrition. It’s like my special ability.” I dodged a lazy punch. “I thought that partial morphing thing was your calling card.” He hesitated and a sideswipe connected with his chin. He didn’t flinch. “Well, that too…” he muttered meekly. Silence prevailed for the next five minutes of hoof to hoof combat. I was impressed by his ability to continuously adapt to my fighting style, but fortunately, I was equally good at making adjustments. He went down three times, each in the sequence seemingly affecting him less. He laughed and gregariously spread his forehooves. “I put you through the full gauntlet, and I can say you passed every test with full marks! You leave me no choice—” I was ready to ignore him and primed my muscles to charge. Then, in a heartbeat, my honed intuition for Equestrian strangeness kicked in. I considered putting on the brakes for half a second but changed my mind again. If I was correct, I couldn’t afford to allow him any time. He had apparently assumed I would let him finish, as I connected with a sucker punch. “Hey, that was cheap!” he complained after a high-pitched yelp of pain.  With mechanical relentlessness, I struck him again. At this point, he finally decided that if he was going to keep monologuing, he may as well defend himself while doing so. I absorbed a weak hit and struck back while he was whining something “unfair” and something “hardly polite.” I really didn’t care. “If you’re going to take off the kid gloves, at least show the smarts to keep it to yourself.” “What do you mean?” he asked, slightly tense, finally shaking off the fighting stupor that had befallen him. “Isn’t this when you break out special ability number three?” “What!? No!” he scoffed.” I was going to say you leave me no choice but to admit you’re better than me.” He blocked where I feinted and recovered in time to taper the force of the real hit. “Uh-huh, then why are you smiling?" I asked. “Because I know something you don’t,” he gloated. “You’re better than me, but a filly like you just doesn’t have the power to finish me off.” I was almost perturbed. Wait, he’s not mocking me. “Your magic concerns me,” he admitted, "but I won’t be fooled into thinking that you have infinite mana.” As if to strengthen his next statement, he absorbed my punch. “I’ll say it again: you won’t beat me in a war of attrition.” He’s awfully confident that the stalemate favors him. Maniacal Laughter defeating Rising Sun isn’t even the most likely outcome, let alone a safe bet. It’s too elaborate for a bluff. I should probably believe him. I smirked, opening my body to the natural, gentle flow of my Rhodish mana. It washed over me, turbo-charging my muscles and bones. I faked a gallop, stopped, and having faked him out, flung some charged pulses at him. He wasn’t able to dodge given his indecision between backpedaling and standing still. I pounced. Eliminating his separation from me in a single step, I hit him the hardest I had yet.  He vomited what looked like green slime. And once again, concern washed over me. I don’t mean to kill him… I clenched my teeth. As I repeated the same internal debate. I considered this could be another symptom of my Equestrian re-conditioning. Still, there were logical reasons to stop short of finishing him off.  He slowly sprouted a dragon’s tail and wasted no time in using it to assist in pushing off the ground. Taking a page out of my book, he faked a headlong charge and used the tail to redirect his momentum. He staggered his movements brilliantly. Impressive. That’s not something I can dodge with mere technique. He jumped, flipped in mid-air, and brought down the extra appendage to strike. With a single, unwavering hoof I absorbed the entirety of his attack’s momentum. In a show of raw strength I leveraged the friction between us to drag him to the ground, not even caring enough to make the impact disorienting for him. “I see: you were holding back. This changes nothing.” Before I could ready a response he spoke again. “What do you mean don’t underestimate her? I have Unblemish Fungus for magical damage and you take care of the physical.” I decided to stop giving him leeway for unexplained craziness. With mild contempt, I took a savage swing at him and then another. I was finally able to deduce that there was something beyond magic, something beyond the corporeal that enshrouded him. I let loose a yell as barbaric as my adapted fighting style. I counted. It took thirty-four blows before that something gave way. On the thirty-fifth I held back again; despite the light blow, I finally had the gratification of solid contact. “Turns out that magic isn’t everything, but you know that already. In my case, the enemies I know don’t stand around and let you hit them with flashy spells. What I showed you before was the quaint naivete of a civilization that knows little of magic. This gave way to pragmatism. Our true power—my true power is the common, but effective, ability to enhance physical abilities. With practice, even a filly can do this.” I went a bit overboard there... At least I had the sense to refrain from spelling out what percentage of my full might I had unleashed. Especially since I was approaching one-hundred. I expected at least a flimsy bravado in response to my haughtiness. Instead, I saw him as a child for the first time. I even observed an undefined sheen that had coated his shell had apparently faded. He looked on the verge of crying as he hung his head. His wings even seemed lower to the ground. “You’re just saying that…” he muttered. “She beat our unbeatable combination…” “Umm, hello?” I said with an unexpected filly twang in my voice. “Try? What’s the point…” He continued to mumble, ignoring me. I dashed at him. With a calculated restraint I limited the power in my forelegs and galloped to deliver the haymaker. I hit like a filly. Literally. I should have known instinctively something was wrong when my gallop speed had noticeably slowed. But for a knockout blow to become a mere tap destined to bounce of his exoskeleton, something was deeply wrong. My first reaction was to be screaming mad. I had done everything right. I thought I hadn’t even touched half my mana reservoir, to save it for real danger and unexpected Equestrian magical nonsense. I couldn’t possibly be out already. I quenched my anger for a lucid moment. My mana doesn’t mix. Harmony wouldn’t like that. And this body is no stronger than a girl of eight; without being an alicorn, I doubt I would even graze that mark. Yes, there was plenty that could have gone wrong. It was fitting. I thought I was practicing moderation when feeding my lust for battle, moderation in the use of my foreign abilities. I was wrong on both counts and now faced double peril. In any event, I was not going to make that mistake again. Let’s see how an Equestrian solution works out, then. I “hit” him again and giggled. “Dummy. I’ve already won. I’m not going to finish you off!” I chirped. The smile I wore, though more resilient than expected, felt like it could falter at any moment. “I never said that,” he said.  “Well you thought it!” I hastily replied—time was not on my side. “You may be strong, but you’re still a child. What are they going to do, throw you in jail?” He scrutinized me, and I spent several tense seconds trying to iron the wrinkles out of my unnatural, happy countenance.  He’s a foreign agent! I don’t know what I’m thinking. He’s probably trained to endure captivity. Promising leniency won’t do any good! He looked down. “What do you care? I’m just a changeling. Nopony wants us around. Most want to pretend that—it’s like we don’t exist.” I momentarily enjoyed my good fortune. “Why would you care?” he asked. “You have an entire kingdom to think of. I’m just one little bug. Why should I accept your pity? What am I to you?” One answer came to mind. And only one answer. A moment later, still only one answer at hand. I sighed. This one is going to hurt… I beamed. “We can be friends! I love making friends with other ponies—and other beings too. I met a zebra the other day! She was really nice!” His surprise appeared to be etched on a petrified, pensive expression. For a moment, I could see happiness, and then a distant longing. Did it work? Did I go overboard? How do I follow that up? “I—” I waited for him to continue. “A bluff? What are you talking about, Tlledem?” I finally concluded he was talking to himself after I braved the silence to think clearly. “How? She was pummeling me a moment ago. I can’t match that, especially not without you.” I could envision gears turning in the mind of the young bug pony. He nodded, a concession. I saw muscles tense in his left foreleg. It seemed to melt into his calf before taking the shape of a stinger.  He raised it elegantly in front of him like a rapier. “You presume to dictate the terms. Then dodge this—if you can!” Time froze to a halt. In that altered state I was able to calculate that remaining motionless was the best bet. It was a stock tactic I was familiar with: intentionally shifting one’s aim to hit an evading foe. Then again, it had the side effect of making you look like a complete idiot if your opponent calls your bluff. I made him look like a complete idiot. For one second—then a flurry of lazy swipes to follow-up forced me to dance. Somehow, in the midst of all the dodging, I managed to create some space. Nonetheless, he had the information he needed. “I can philosophize later about the how and the why. The only point that matters is that you are now—” He licked his lips in a forced gesture. “Un-armed. We may never know who would prevail in a barehoof brawl. A pity.” He thrusted sloppily, so I was able to read his movement and dodge. I was somewhat surprised at his next flurry of quick attacks, which revealed some acumen. I hopped low to the left, did a half roll, stopped, ducked and rolled to the side. I had calculated the sequence as a possibility in advance. Fortunately, I had the greater foresight. He raised his saber arm in the air in a triumphant gesture while cackling..  “Are you feeling it now. One swipe is enough to paralyze a Gallopagos Marine Ursa!” “Yeah, you didn’t get me…” I said meekly. For a moment, awkwardness penetrated the palpitations of raw combat. His eyes changed complexion in surprise. “Well then, I guess—Round 2. En garde!” I bolted. “Hey!! Get back here, he called uselessly after me. This is bad. All I can do now is stall. Beating him is possible, but I would have to be nothing short of flawless.! I glanced back at my pursuer. Rising Sun isn’t coming… The hoofbeats dogging me picked up their pace. I think I know where the barrier is, but what’s the use? He’ll definitely catch up to me when I make a course correction I heard the buzzing of bug wings. Out of fear, I made a snap decision: my stamina wouldn’t last, so I’d press my luck. As I ground my hoves to a rough stop, I reached out with my earth pony senses to the planet’s crust and its core. By the suffering of my ancestors, I live to seize this day. Fettered to the Earth we are no longer! Now, Equus, I command you: be my sword and shield, for you are mine to use! Just hearing that ornamental mantra in my head was enough to calm me down somewhat. Nevertheless, it only took two seconds for that to fade. This was in the category of indescribable moments. In particular, it was one of those awful realizations in which the prospect of what was taken for granted begins to fade, its probability tailing off with every half-second. It turned out that earth magic wasn’t that similar to what I was used to. He rose the same hoof as before and morphed it back into the rapier stinger. Run? Run!  My body failed to react. I can’t? I’m already out of breath? Is this the limit of an alicorn filly?” He encroached with deliberate care and caution. This is the end? I’m actually going to die in happy pony land? A dark realization rocked my very soul. No, it’s worse: they have every motivation to uncork the magic and turn me into an infant. It took every ounce of skill and strength I had to avoid his next attack. This is really the end? The end of my life as a pony? It… it feels like I barely started. I’ll never get to go to pony camp. School wasn’t even that bad. I’ll never walk there with Pink Diamond ever again? Never see Squirt or Bulwark? Never be forced into a dress so I can complain about it endlessly? Okay, maybe not that...   Somehow it felt like I was losing something even greater. A sense of a lingering, incomplete state. There was also—the cuddles? Twilight’s convoluted experiments? The occasional sugary treat of my own choosing? Annuity thinking she can rap? Getting blackmailed by Pestle. Actually, there’s nothing endearing about the last one. Perhaps even she’ll be the one to force me into the dress. My brain hung in a sort of still disbelief. That moment of inactivity, however, made the next thought glide across my consciousness —a parade of progressing memories, each re-experienced with guided minimalism, like a page partially illuminated by candlelight.  Did I ever even start living? No, but—yes,  though I did avoid… I resisted everything, didn’t I? Complained—treated the whole affair like a chore.  I was realizing all too late my folly. My own feelings were antithetical to the idea of accepting the strangeness and novelty with open arms, but that was never a threat, or even anyone’s expectation. I didn’t need to gravitate to the other extreme to preserve myself.  Have I really, truly lost anything so far? Beyond the obvious? I wondered. I saw the finishing blow wobble towards me. He was hesitating for some reason. It didn’t matter; I surmised that I had less than a one-in-fifty chance of dodging. Complicated acrobatics I might still be able to manage, but I could only will my body to accelerate so quickly.  I never really lost myself. I stated plainly in my mind. I closed my eyes. It seemed poetic that after agonizing over the loss of mere shavings of myself, I would accept the loss of everything—a death in every sense that truly mattered. Or maybe I just didn’t want what may be my last action to be an ignominious failed dodge to bookend my ultimate defeat. At once, I became cognizant of a ripple on the periphery of my senses. What had lightly taxed me the whole time faded and I wondered how I could have possibly become inured to it. In any event, the barrier had faded. I heard clang of loud contact. And a crunching. My eyes opened instantly, curiosity commandeering the ship. I saw yellow. A shade that cheerfully frequented my room. “Flower… Power…? How…?” I babbled, as my eyes scanned her cutie mark, finding exactly the same simple flower symbol I expected. Equestrian silliness had me dumbfounded at the best of times, but seeing the maid armed and in light combat gear was a new high water mark.  She winked playfully as she casually overwhelmed my exhausted foe’s morphed leg with the shaft of a pony-sized polearm. “Star’s not your only protector. Besides, I told you, didn’t I? I’m a ninja!” she announced playfully. An exiled draconequus casually stepped over the chandelier below the table.  “Diane! Diane!? Have you seen that charged rhodium I’d been saving?” Diane shook her head. “Don’t call me like that!” the resident “bouncy ball wall” for suggestions griped. “It makes us sound like a married couple! And one husband is enough for me, thank you.” Quarrel puffed his cheeks as a buffer against laughter, cleared his throat and coughed conspicuously. “What was that?” asked Diane. “N—nothing…” “It sounded like you were about to laugh at another lame, non-joke.” “Nope, nothing funny here!” He laughed for good effect. Diane rolled her eyes and sat down in a nonsensically proportioned chair with three armrests. She stroked her abdomen ritualistically, as if confirming what was definitely there. “I put it in the drawer. The drawer. As in you only have one.” Quarrel raked a claw across his face. “No, no, that’s not where you put it! If you want to find it any time soon, anyway. For me a drawer is where I put stuff I want to lose.” “That makes—sense?” Diane confessed. “Now I know I’ve been working with you too long—and I barely know you.” A single breath of laughter escaped from Quarrel. His restraint was nonetheless met with a stern look. “So where do we look?” Diane asked, regaining her bearings in Quarrel’s backwards logic. The “great one” kicked a jack-in-the-box to the side. He sighed.  “It’s as good as gone. It tends to be random, but chaos seeks chaos. It could be where I entered the world, for example.” He let that sink in for a moment before grabbing a candlestick. “Or it could be where I won the interdimensional under eighteen-hundred golf championship!” He closed one eye, measured and took a swing at a ball of yarn. It arced upward and landed in a bucket on the ceiling.  “GOAL!!!” “Does that ruin our plan?” Diane asked, weighed down by overwhelming guilt. Quarrel cracked the joints in his stomach. “Well, it takes away any chance of me prevailing in a fight, which I was never good at it, by the way. No choice: we have to resort to diplomacy.” “Shall we start with the ‘strange bird’ your scouts found?” Diane, said with forced optimism. “Maybe it’s another species affected by your magic, if it can talk.” “Yeah, I think it’s over there,” Quarrel said, pointing. “Give up, House,” said a young boy. We’re not going to just stumble on Quarrel! The underground tunnels were interesting for a while, but I want to move onto the next planet.” DIane and Quarrel both froze at the unexpected voice. It suggested an unexpected, unnerving presence as real as any other.