//------------------------------// // The Rhyme // Story: Rhythm and Rhyme // by MyHobby //------------------------------// The sun shone high above Roc as the battle wound down. Andean Ursagryph blinked his eyes open as ambrosia did its good work. Poultices had been applied expertly by pony hooves. An intravenous drip fed him the nutrients he needed to live. Through a porthole, he could see his regulars, Blitzwings, and the Equestrian Royal Guard corralling the remaining Painted Ones near the shore. Hearts were being harvested as the machines touched down. Soon, many lives would be restored, even if those who allied themselves with the Painted Ones would find themselves in prison. Andean looked to the crest of his mountain home. His eaglelike eyes spotted his eldest daughter pulling hearts from the top of the Sunspear. She unmade the great mistake he’d taken part in. Pride filled his chest, overwhelming his sense of failure. Truly, she would be a mighty queen. “I am glad to see you well.” Andean turned away from the window to greet his visitor. Princess Luna strode into the infirmary, an ice pack hiding away a magic syphon that had been attached to her horn. Her eyes were tired, her stance worn. She sat beside his oversized bed and gazed out across Roc. “We must speak.” “Indeed.” Andean Ursagryph clasped his talons. “I suspect you wish to decide the Sunspear’s fate.” “It has already been decided.” Luna frowned—not out of anger or frustration, as Andean expected—but out of deep sadness. She shook her head and showed him the syphon. “I was unable to protect the sun from this… Cicada creature. The Sunspear nearly turned my brain to mush. I went in alone and unprepared, and I paid the price. Without Corona…” She looked him right in the eye, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “Alicorns alone are not enough. The Sunspear must exist. And it must remain in the control of someone I trust.” Andean watched the syphon draw excess power away from Luna. It shimmered with the color of her magic and eyes: A brilliant blue hue. “You have sacrificed much to come to this conclusion.” “How so?” “Pride is a difficult thing to deal with. I would know.” Andean gestured to the wounds left over from his duel with Ahuizotl. “It takes a strong will to admit one’s own fallibility. To defy the instinct to stand alone. To admit a better path exists…” He flexed his bandaged talon, tapping his beak. “Something I must once again admit to myself and to you.” Luna lowered her ears. “There is magic aplenty in your mountain to run the Sunspear. But it was not designed for it.” “Yes. And therein lies the next step I must take. Deciphering the secrets of the device.” Andean waved dismissively, yet weakly. “It will be a long process, during which I must rely solely upon you and your family.” “No. Not solely.” Luna took a seat in the chair beside Andean’s bed. She furrowed her brow. “Celestia has long forbade the old methods to be taught. It rapidly drains whatever ponies perform the ritual. They take months or years to recover from a week of moonrises.” She sighed, closing her eyes. She leaned back. “But I will no longer accept her decree. Alternatives must be set in place. We shall offer the lessons to the School for Gifted Unicorns. And we will delay no longer. This I promise.” She touched his shoulder with a wingtip. “It is time to no longer allow fear to hold us back.” “Well said, my friend.” Andean returned to watching his daughter fix the mess he’d made. He breathed deep and let it go with a wheeze. “Well said…” *** Button Mash reached up and took Martial Paw’s talon. The griffon hauled him out of the deadly pit and placed him on firm ground. They moved quickly to leave the control room and its deadly atmosphere behind. Button leaned against the griffon every step of the way, his eyes dry of tears. He was too exhausted to cry anymore. Sweetie Belle ran up to hug him. He accepted the embrace gladly, praying for some relief to the weight on his heart. “I couldn’t save him.” Sweetie nodded, but didn’t answer beyond that. The three of them walked in silence through the catacombs. Griffon kings of old watched wordlessly. At the top of the staircase, Martial pulled the two doors shut, closing off the radiating waves of magic. “Wow. You guys look like garbage.” Button raised an eyebrow. Captain Carrot trotted towards them, her armor melted in several places and her mane frayed and singed. Part of her tail was still on fire. She swatted it to extinguish the flames. “I take it Ahuizotl’s done for?” Martial smiled. “Thanks in no small part to my fellow warriors here.” Button Mash sat down hard and leaned against the wall. “I’m no warrior.” “On the contrary. You have a warrior’s spirit within you.” Martial Paw removed the battered riot armor still sitting on his chest. “You merely… utilize it for things other than bloodshed. I believe that to be a rather admirable thing.” He gave the scrap metal a kick. It slid across the hallway to clatter against the far wall. “Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from you.” He bowed at the neck to Sweetie Belle. “To say nothing of you. Without you, I would have been cleaved in twain several times over. Thank you.” Care smirked. “So you do admit to being brash, headstrong, foolhardy, and irresponsible?” “I learned it from watching Daring Do.” He chuckled and smoothed down the feathers poking out at odd angles on his head. “And I suspect you picked something up from her as well?” “I’d never broken a law before I met Daring.” Care pointed her horn at the airship moored a few meters away. “Come on, guys. We gotta get to the top of the castle. Got some people who really wanna see you.” Button and Sweetie climbed aboard and rested against the chest at the rear of the vessel. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the world roll by. Griffon regulars could be seen gathering wrecked Strutters and pieces of the castle. The Equestrian fleet closed in on the port near the base of the mountain. The flagship’s bridge was filled to the brim with glowing, living hearts, all ready to return to their owners. They touched down, and Sweetie and Button disembarked. Sweetie covered her mouth as a familiar voice drawled in the near distance. “Apple Bloom!” Apple Bloom lifted her head away from a complex mechanism at the bottom of the Sunspear. Her mouth broke into perhaps the biggest smile Button had ever seen. “Sweetie!” The two old friends ran into each other’s embrace. Apple Bloom picked Sweetie up and swung her around. Laughter echoed across Roc, delighting the ears of those who heard it. Apple Bloom moved them closer to Button. “C’mere, you!” She reached out a foreleg and squeezed him tight as well. “Y’all thought I forgot about you? Heck naw! Y’all’re the heroes of the hour!” Button felt something in his back crack into place. He let out a yelp, but smiled all the same. “Great to see you, too, Bloom.” The strong mare set them down, keeping her forelegs on their shoulders. “Now don’tcha worry ’bout a thing! Scootaloo and Rumble ’re waitin’ for us back in Canterlot, and Spike’s on the mend. We all made it through to the other side.” Button rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Not… quite all of us.” He looked up to Apple Bloom and gritted his teeth. “We can’t forget the ones who gave everything to get us this far. Daring… and Caballeron… and…” He waved a hoof across Roc. “So many others.” Sweetie Belle hugged him from behind. She rested her cheek on the back of his head. “We won’t Button. We could never forget. But we also can’t forget those who are with us now. And right now… it’s okay to be happy about that.” Button looked at Sweetie, a blush touching his cheeks. He turned to Apple Bloom, who smiled and shrugged. “You’re right, Sweetie,” he said. “Of course you are. I am glad, Apple Bloom. Thank you.” The three of them stood at the edge of the parapet, as the setting sun cast an orange glow over all. Button shifted around so that he could sling a foreleg over Sweetie’s shoulders. “Thank you all for bringing us this far.” *** Martial Paw unbuckled Euroclydon from his belt. He hefted the sword. He knew he’d miss its weight at his side. It was such a perfect fit, but it was not his to keep. Care Carrot leaned against the helm of the Vanishing Point and watched the three friends reunite in the sunset. “I never thought I’d see somebody mourn Caballeron.” “Button Mash is a special sort of person.” Martial walked to the center of the deck and waved at an approaching winged figure. “His generosity truly knows no bounds.” “Hmm.” Care brushed at a burnt patch on her coat. The hairs crumbled to dust beneath her touch. “Being that open could get him hurt real easily.” “And it has.” Martial gave her a smile. “But I cannot argue with the results.” “Well, there is that.” Care gave the unconnected ship’s wheel a spin. “You’re pretty relaxed now that you’re no longer, ‘Martial Paw, Avenger of Blood.’ How’s it feel?” “Liberating, really.” The figure was close enough to be identified; Corona Ursagryph, with Stella and two others by her side. “I feel that justice was done.” Care bobbed her head, wrapping her mane in a loose ponytail. “Even though you weren’t the one to slice his head off?” “I certainly helped.” “You know what I mean.” Martial twisted the scabbard in his talons. He ran his eyes across the intricate carvings of storm clouds and lightning. “My obsession with revenge pulled me away from what truly mattered. Before, it pulled me away from my family, my country, and my identity. This time, it nearly tore down everything I had built up since then.” He blew a deep breath through his beak, spreading his wings as he eyed Care. “It took Button, my uncle, and… and Blankety to show me that.” Corona landed aboard the Vanishing Point, Stella soon after her. The elder princess walked up to him, uncertainty sprawled across her face. “Cousin Martial?” Something caught in Martial’s throat. It took all the strength he had to speak. “Cousin Corona. It’s been…” “A long time.” Corona paused a meter away, but soon closed the distance in a strong hug. “Six years,” he rasped. He brushed the red feathers of her crest as the years flooded back to him. “My Creator. Stella was still a baby.” Stella rubbed her talons together, fluffing her silvery neck feathers. “Not really a baby, just… little…” Martial looked beyond the princesses to see Crested Barbary, Captain of the Guard, standing by. Chamberlain Mellori Corvus scowled from his place on the prow, keeping silent watch. Crested followed Martial’s eyes to the crow-faced griffon. “Don’t worry about him. I’m keeping him on a short leash.” Care tilted her head and squinted. “What’s his beef?” Martial sighed and released Corona. He looked at Mellori with a heavy heart. “The griffon I killed was his father.” The chamberlain drummed his talons against the ship’s rail. “I am here to settle old scores, Martial Paw. Just as soon as you settle yours.” “I suppose I saw this coming.” Martial laughed lightly; sadly. He held Euroclydon towards Corona and bowed. “Your father lent this to me, but he would want you to have it while he recovers.” Corona sniffed and wiped her eye with a wingtip. She took the scabbard carefully and attatched it to her belt. As she did so, the sword reshaped itself to fit her size. “The burden suits itself to the bearer.” “So I’ve heard.” Martial walked slowly towards Mellori, his chest out and his head high. “What do you have for me?” “I challenge you to a duel.” Mellori Corvus stepped down from the prow and stalked towards Martial. They met at the middle of the ship, close enough to feel each other’s breath. “For returning to Felaccia despite your banishment. For slaying my father unjustly. It shall not be to first blood, but to the death.” Martial held his beak closed with a talon. He shrugged his left wing. “I’m sorry, but I must decline your challenge.” “Mm?” “I am an Equestrian citizen.” Martial sat down and spread his forelegs. “The law expressly prohibits duels to the death. Isn’t that right, Captain?” “Uh…” Care blinked. She sauntered up to Mellori with what appeared on the surface to be a completely guileless grin. “Yeah. I mean, magic duels are a thing, but they’re more a spectacle for the crowds than anything. Gotta be non-lethal. Definitely, definitely non-lethal. Definitely.” Mellori glared at Care as though he smelled something decaying. He snapped his beak. “Very well. To first blood, then.” Martial rubbed his beak, then nodded. “I accept. Shall we begin?” Mellori furrowed his brow. “Now?” “I don’t see why not.” Martial spread his talons, pointing to those nearby. “We have witnesses, a trained medic on hand, you have your saber… we’re set.” Corvus drew his weapon, but hesitated. “You’re unarmed.” “A griffon is never unarmed.” Martial flicked his talons and snapped his beak. He lowered himself into a ready stance, poised to pounce. “Ready?” Mellori struck with a downward cut. Rather than jump forward, Martial twisted to the side. The blade grazed his flank, drawing a thin line of blood atop the scabs and bruises already there. “First blood has been spilt!” Care raised a hoof, snatching Mellori’s off talon and holding it in the air. “Mellori Covus is the victor!” The chamberlain pulled his talon away from her. He shoved his saber back into its scabbard and turned away. “If I had known you would make a mockery of me, I wouldn’t have bothered.” “Mellori.” Martial raised a talon. “Wait.” Mellori Corvus glared over his shoulder. He ruffled his feathers and spread his black wings. “What?” “What I did to you was unacceptable. I did not deserve to even fight back.” Martial allowed himself to be hugged from the side by Corona. “This is the only thing I can do to ever repay you. To give you back your honor. I will not ask you to accept it, only to understand that you are in the right.” “Mm. Then I will not accept it.” Mellori Corvus sneered at him and readied his wings for flight. “You shall return to your magical land of ponies, I shall return to my royal duties, and neither of us will have changed.” Mellori flew away to take part in the rebuilding of the castle. “Neither of you have changed, hmm?” Crested Barbary allowed a faint smile to touch the edge of his beak. “If he only knew.” Stella produced a cloth and pressed it against Martial’s new wound. She narrowed her eyes in concentration. “I don’t like duels. It always feels like it’s just an opportunity for bullies to beat each other up.” Corona ruffled her younger sister’s crest. She examined the Vanishing Point, a mess of scorched wood and impact craters. “You’re going home soon, aren’t you?” “As soon as possible.” Martial went to the helm of the craft and made preparations to take off. “As soon as the fleet leaves, I’m going, too. I don’t imagine the lords would allow me to stay much longer.” Stella grasped his talon, interrupting his work. “You can’t even see the family? Uncle Atlas is always talking about how much he misses you and—” “This is my punishment, Stella.” Martial gave her a squeeze before he let go. According to his survey, the envelope would require repair, but there was enough to get them to a barge. “This is the consequence of my actions. It’s justice.” He smiled and touched the bottom of her beak. “Chin up. Next time you guys visit Equestria, I’ll make sure to be in the neighborhood. Is that okay?” “Of course.” Stella blinked away tears. “How could it not?” Martial walked to the side of his vessel. He called out to the ponies below. “Button! Sweetie! Um—” He snapped his talons a couple of times. “Name’s Apple Bloom, mister!” “Apple Bloom! We’re headed out!” He connected the helm to the pully system within the ship. The Vanishing Point rose into the air as he gave the motor some juice. “With your highnesses’ permission?” Stella and Corona both bowed. The younger sister wrapped her talons around her beak. “I hope we get to see you again soon.” “You will, Stella.” Martial spun the wheel, and the ship was on the move. “Count on it.” *** Flurry Heart sat in her room in Twilight’s castle. They had all moved to Ponyville after the invasion. To get some peace. To surround themselves with comfortable familiarity. But Flurry couldn’t sleep. She feared nightmares. Maybe Nightmares as well. Who knew what was watching her, now that she’d revealed such power. Now that she’d used that power to slay a pony. She killed someone. She replayed the scene again and again. There was no other way to end the fight. She knew it in her heart of hearts. But still… It was horrible. A knock sounded from her door. She sat up with a start. She wrapped her blanket and wings tighter around herself. “Who is it?” “It’s Auntie Celestia, honey.” The voice was warm, gentle, soothing. “May I come in?” Flurry pulled her blankety over her head as a hood. “Yeah.” Celestia opened the door slightly ponderously with a hoof. Her horn was going to be out of commission for a while, after that fight. She shuffled over to the bed and took a seat beside Flurry. A wing extended and pulled the filly closer. Flurry welcomed the comfort. “I have to thank you, Flurry Heart, for saving my life. And the lives of those with us. Your sister, my guards, and my servants.” Celestia winced, like she had received a slap to the face. “We would all be dead, had you not defeated the Painted One.” Flurry leaned against Celestia, her ears low and her wings shivering. “I feel like tonight’s events have been something of a revelation to you.” Celestia swallowed hard. “You have incredible power within you. And you are frightened of it.” “Yeah.” Flurry didn’t know what else to say. She’d always known that one day she might be able to raise the sun, but so soon? Not a chance. “This is a realization all alicorns must have.” Celestia pressed her lips together. She brought her head closer to Flurry and lowered her voice. “I had my realization very young. Not much older than you. Luna was in danger, and in order to save her… I used the power of the sun for the first time. The memory haunts me to this day. As does every time I used the sun as a weapon. It… it was not made to be abused like that.” She touched Flurry’s cheek. “It is important to understand exactly how much power you have. That way you can use it more wisely. More certainly. Otherwise, many people could get hurt.” Celestia knelt before the scared little filly, looking at her with the calm, controlled expression she had practiced for a thousand years. “That is why I am asking you… will you be my personal student, Flurry?” The High Princess of Equestria kept herself at eye-level with Flurry, speaking warm, soft words. “I will teach you how to use your magic. All of it. You will want for nothing when it comes to knowledge. I will guide you, like I guided your mother and Twilight Sparkle. You will still attend the School for Gifted Unicorns, but with my private tutelage. Would that be acceptable, Flurry Heart?” Flurry pulled the blanket away from her head and draped it across her shoulders. “You would teach me how to control my magic?” “Absolutely.” “And I’d still be able to go to school with my friends?” “Every day.” Flurry leaned forward. “You’d be able to keep me from hurting anybody?” Celestia smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I will teach you how to do exactly that. You can do so much good with your power, Flurry. I want you to be able to use that power without fear.” She lowered her eyes. Furrows appeared on her forehead. “It will not be easy. You can ask your Aunt Twilight just how difficult the training was for her. But I know you can do it. I believe in you.” Flurry spread her wings. She stood up on the bed and held her head high, even though she still wanted to cry. “I’ll do it, Auntie Celestia. Teach me how to be a good alicorn. Please.” Celestia scooped the little girl up and held her tight to her chest. “I will, Flurry. I promise I will.” *** Sweetie Belle stepped out from the lower decks of the flagship of the Equestrian Navy, Buttercup’s Folly. She adjusted her frameless glasses, but they just didn’t sit right on her nose anymore. The left lens was cracked as well. She was going to need a whole new set once they got back to Ponyville. It helped to focus on meaningless, minute details. It helped her cope with the fact that her voice had the power to sway souls to her will. Every time she sang, no matter the cause or purpose. Her career as a singer, her pathway to stardom… all predicated by that inborn ability she had little control over. It was the very genesis of her cutie mark. She had long ago felt her own heart connect with others as she sang, and longed to replicate it. Now, knowing what was truly at stake? Knowing exactly what sort of powers were at work? How could she continue to sing? What a talent to have. Glasses. Right. The other lens was chipped on the surface. A couple of chips in fact, accompanied by dozens of scratches all across the glass. And one of the screws was loose. And the nosepiece was bent at an odd angle… Sweetie wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped into the cool sea air. Perhaps she would need to focus exclusively on her clothes designing business? But what if people accused her of controlling people to buy her wares? What if life itself would become impossible to live? If she could not make a living for fear of using mind-altering magic, how could she work at all? What a freaking talent to have. The boat rocked gently in the waves, a breeze sending spray across the air. Sweetie muttered gibberish as the water droplets coated her lenses and made seeing difficult. She wiped the glasses against her chest, their fragility no longer a real concern. When she put the fogged-up glasses back on her face, she spied Button Mash leaning against the railing, staring into the vast endlessness of the ocean. He hadn’t had the chance to trim his beard in several days, as could be seen from the patchy hair dotting his face. The poor guy just wasn’t in a position to grow a full one. He scratched his spikey mane, a sigh escaping his chest. Her heart practically leaped at the thought of a more present distraction. She walked up to the rail and took a seat beside him. “Hi.” “Hi, Sweetie.” His voice was low and hoarse. His brown eyes found her. For just a moment, she felt maybe everything would turn out. The feeling passed. “How’re you doing?” “Good question.” Sweetie leaned her cheek on her crossed forelegs. “I’m not sure. I’m happy to be alive.” “Aren’t we all?” Button didn’t sound convinced of his own words. As such, he wasn’t all that convincing. “It’ll be real great to get back home, doing what we always did. Living more peaceful lives, hopefully.” “Yeah.” Sweetie stared at the water beneath her. Her reflection was quickly swallowed up by the next greenish-blue wave. “Nothing to worry about there. Nothing at all.” Button frowned. He placed his forelegs on the deck and rested on his haunches. “What’s up? Got something rough waiting for you?” “I’m just not sure how to move forward.” She touched her neck. “With this whole ‘mind-controlling voice’ thing.” Button winced and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.” “But what about you?” Sweetie brushed the topic aside as fast as she possibly could, sweeping the topic away with a brush of her hoof. “You get to go back to the puppet shows. What’s your next one? Are you gonna write the music again, or are you gonna use an old script—?” “I don’t know, Sweetie.” His hooves hit the deck with a weak click. “Knowing what I know? I don’t know.” He stood up and paced back and forth, skewing his angle to avoid tripping over a bundle of rope. “I saw River threaten to burn an entire city to cinders. I cared about River, you know? I know it sounds silly to care about a clearly fictional character. But I cared about what she did, and what she stood for. She inspired me.” He gave the railing a kick. The wood responded with a wet thud. “Maybe it’s a good thing I lost her puppet. It’s not even accurate to her actual species.” His ears perked up. He pointed at her as his voice gained some modicum of strength. “You know who’s been working on voices? Twilight Sparkle. She has that necklace she always wears after the assassination attempt, right? Maybe she can make something for you?” Sweetie Belle took a moment to process the conversational shift. She scrunched her muzzle and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “The siren gems?” “Is that what she calls them? Weird, but okay.” “Kinda, but—” Sweetie gave him a lopsided grin that was only slightly feigned. “They’re to give hypnotic powers, not take them away.” “But Princess Twilight’s real smart about this stuff.” Button plopped himself down in front of Sweetie, some light returning to his smile. “If I know anything about enchanted gems, it probably only needs a little re-pathing for the spell to end up completely different. And there you go. No more moral quandaries.” Sweetie folded her ears back, lidding her eyes. “None whatsoever, huh?” “Well, less.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “A couple quandaries less.” She rubbed her foreleg, swishing her tail back and forth. “It’s worth a shot. Just… I hate that I was just born with mind-altering magic.” She narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her nose up. “Speaking of that, why aren’t you affected by it?” “No clue. Maybe, uh…” Button tapped a hind leg as he thought. “Maybe it has something to do with my weak magic? Nothing for your magic to influence?” “Is that even possible?” “Heck if I know.” Button reached for her foreleg and tugged her to her feet. “Hay, you wanna head to the mess hall, get some lunch?” “Not much else to do aboard the ship.” She bobbed her head and walked by his side. “Sure. Let’s.” Two bowlfuls of skilly ’n’ duff, two seats at a long table. Button and Sweetie sat across from each other, scooping spoonfuls of the porridge and pudding into their mouths. It probably wasn’t quite to Sweetie’s taste—ironically, a bit too sweet—but she wasn’t going to complain about a hot meal after the last couple of weeks. Fresh fruit was the prime ingredient of the dumpling-like pudding, and the whole thing sat in a sugary sauce. Button, for his part, leaned on his hoof and chewed absently, his eyes crossing as he stared into space. Sweetie pushed her food around in her bowl. She scooped up a slice, then let it drop back in. “Last time we ate together like this was our date.” Button closed his eyes and shook his head to refocus himself. He laughed lightly, briefly. “That… feels like forever ago.” “A lifetime and a half.” Sweetie smiled, poking at a particularly large slice of apple. “It was fun, though.” “Yeah. It was.” Button took a bite, then nudged his bowl aside. “It was just after my show.” He clicked his tongue. “I thought I was gonna have time to get ready before dinner.” “I didn’t know it was your show, at first.” Sweetie waved a hoof. “I was just taking a walk around town to cool my nerves.” Button stretched his lips to the side and cocked a brow. “About what?” “About lots of things. Silly stuff.” She tapped her spoon against her bowl, then stopped when she noticed people around them getting annoyed. “I got offered a gig in another city. I had a date with you I wasn’t prepared for. I was still trying to figure out plans for the winter line—” “Winter line? It’s still summer.” “Clothes designing doesn’t happen in a day.” She waved the spoon in his face in a vaguely menacing manner. “And things just jumbled up all together on that day. And that’s before being horribly kidnapped by three comic book bad guys.” Button’s face drooped. He subconsciously touched the scar on his chest, the one that had been left by Caballeron’s spur. The very same one he’d received defending her and Scootaloo that night. For a moment, Sweetie Belle saw him bleeding out on the floor again, pale and dying. She reached across the table and touched his hoof. He looked up at her, offering a tiny smile with a microscopic half-life. Tears threatened to spill out of his big, brown eyes as breathing became difficult. “Your story that night was River’s,” she said quietly. “You said there was truth to it. What’s the truth behind River’s story? What’s the rhythm and rhyme?” He raised his eyebrows. He took his free foreleg and ran it across his eyes to soak up the dampness. “There’s always someone ready to stand beside you, if you look hard enough.” She rubbed his hoof, bringing his eyes to her once more. “And what’s the truth of your story?” Button took in a shaky breath. He gave her a nod, solid yet shallow. He met her eye-to-eye and leaned forward. “If I learned one thing from Poni, it’s this… Y-you can change your world. It’s not too late to change it for the better.” Sweetie smiled, full and bright. Her heart beat at a strong, steady rhythm. She reached across with her other hoof so that she was touching both of his forelegs. “So? Are we ready to change our worlds?” “Yeah.” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side. “I think I’ve got an idea how.” *** Merry Mare rode in the back of a black carriage. Carvings of monsters and twisted horrors coated the outside of the vehicle; many of them likenesses of the Unseelie Court of Fae that she had come to be associated with. It was pulled by two strong, masked stallions, whose identity had long been erased. Whose will had long ago been twisted to one purpose. Across from her, living in a dazed stupor, sat Kiln. He had led her this far into the jungle, and it would only be a few more minutes before they reached their destination. Poni’s heart had not been anywhere Kiln and the rest had looked. It was not on Ahuizotl’s person. It was not in his Strutters. It was not in his mines. There was truly only one last possible place the mad god could have kept it. His home. Merry wished she knew more about the conflict in Felaccia. At the moment, all they were sure of was that Ahuizotl was dead, his forces crushed in the battle. His separate attack on the Canterlot Castle had also failed. He had stretched himself too thin, and had finally payed the price. After thousands of years, he was no longer an issue. The jungle brushed by outside. It was quiet all around them; the creatures knew not to interfere with the affairs of the Fae. Beside her sat the youngest of the three Sirens, the one known to most as the Maiden. The young mare gazed into the passing greenery with sharp eyes. She adjusted her silver-lensed glasses and glowered at Merry. “Need I remind the Mother that we don’t want unnecessary carnage tonight?” “You don’t have to remind me of anything.” Merry pulled her hood low over her face. She clutched the yellow gemstone necklace to feel the familiar, calming power coursing within. “I’ll keep a cool head. You focus on your objective.” “A silver tongue for the huddled masses.” The Maiden smirked. She brushed her braid over one shoulder. “This will be a good day for the Unseelie Court. A little pick-me-up after… time and time again falling victim to its own hubris.” Merry grumbled. Kiln might have focused on her, but the moment faded away as his clouded mind reasserted itself. “I highly doubt the Court will consider this a victory. Surely you’ve noticed how little they consider their mortal soldiers.” “Let them think what they want.” The Maiden leaned against the door, cupping her chin with a hoof. “If they were capable of felling Equestria without us, they’d have done so centuries ago.” “They did.” Merry crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Celestia rebuilt.” “So it’s up to us to salt the fields.” The Maiden grinned, her white teeth standing out amid the darkness of the carriage. “It’s up to us to be the rebuilders.” The carriage stopped. The door opened, and a nameless, faceless stallion ushered the three of them out of the carriage. Merry crested the hill, rounded a tree, and found herself above a small village of thatched huts. Before long, she was surrounded by spear points aimed dangerously at her neck and chest. These spears were held by Painted Ones, their magic dyes glowing with energy. One of them spoke up. “Why do you come to the home of the Painted Ones?” “My friends,” the Maiden said, lowering her hood. “I am afraid I bring you sorrowful tidings from Felaccia.” In the village, ponies poked their heads out of doors. Stallions and mares, young and old, warriors and children. Each wore at least some sort of magical paint, the children wearing the smallest quantities. An older stallion walked from his hut, robes draped around his body. His milky eyes gazed up at Merry and the Maiden dispassionately. He indicated Kiln with a wave of his hoof. “Why have you brought Caballeron’s second?” “He was our guide. He was our only way to find you to…” The Maiden took in a deep breath and let it out with a sorrowful sigh. “To deliver Ahuizotl’s final message.” The uproar was instantaneous. Disbelief mingled with outrage and fear. As the voices rose, the Maiden kept silent, allowing the moment to snowball without her direct control. She waited patiently for her chance to continue. The elder raised a hoof, and the crowd died down. “I am Atrox, father of High Priest Confuto. If something were to happen to Ahuizotl, my son would return to tell us himself.” “Your son lies crushed beneath his own Strutter,” the Maiden said. “Slain in a fit of rage by Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. His predecessor lies in pieces in the Canterlot Castle lawn, thrown from a great height by Shining Amor.” She placed a hoof on her chest and bowed her head. “Ahuizotl sacrificed himself in a pitched battle with Andean Ursagryph, when the latter refused to allow him to protect the sun from the alicorns. The Painted Ones who were not slain during the battle will soon be imprisoned in the highest security prison Equestria can offer.” She looked to each of the Painted Ones in view, giving each a moment to see her sincerity. “If you do not believe me, then see for yourself. Any news outlet from Equestria to Felaccia will tell the tale true enough of the fall of the God of the Sun.” The blue gemstone around the Maiden’s neck shimmered. Merry scowled. The young siren was already utilizing her hypnotizing voice. Already twisting the minds of the crowd to her will. She supposed it was the only way to sway the Painted Ones, whose entire lives and belief system hinged on fighting the Unseelie Court. “Ahuizotl did not leave you alone!” The Maiden strode forward, past the spears and guards. The people of the village gathered to her, their ears perked and their eyes attentive. “He requested that we, the Sirens, continue his quest where he could not! The sun has been the sole possession of the alicorns for far too long!” She pointed to Atrox, who took a step back. “The same alicorns who killed your son in cold blood! The same alicorns who could torch any point of the world and receive no consequences! They have nothing to keep them in check! They have nothing to hold them accountable!” Merry and Kiln walked unimpeded towards Atrox’s hut. The two carriage driver followed close behind, their muscles ready to tear into the Painted Ones should the need arise. But they had no protection from the power of the Sirens. Their minds were putty in their hooves. She entered the building and immediately began tearing the elder’s home apart. Any sign of magic, any source of power, any indication that her husband’s heart could be there, she sought it all. She ripped apart his bed. Emptied all his containers. Spilled his food on the ground. Each moment she grew more frantic. “Ahuizotl’s message was for you to carry on, Painted Ones!” The Maiden’s voice grew more melodic, more powerful. It rang with a song just at the edge of perception, echoing through the heads and hearts of Ahuizotl’s tribe. “The alicorns cannot stop you! The alicorns cannot contain you! Follow us, and the power of the sun shall at last be yours! Follow us, and find your true purpose in life!” “Merry,” Kiln spoke at last, all but a mumble. He pointed to the center of the single-room home, at the dirt floor. “There’s somethin’ there.” The dirt had been disturbed. It was not nearly as packed as the rest of the home’s flooring. Merry dug with both forelegs, ripping dirt aside with no visible effort. A box was soon uncovered. Her breath short, Merry pulled the box from the hole. She held it close, but no feeling of magic came. No sense of life. “This can’t be it. It can’t.” “That has tae be the box,” Kiln muttered, his eyes half-closed. “That has tae be what we was searchin’ for.” Merry gritted her teeth. She grasped the top of the wooden box with a hoof. The lock proved to be useless in keeping her from tearing the lid clean off. She threw it aside and gazed into the purple fabric that lined the inside. Half a crystalline heart lay alone in the box, its magic glow having been completely replaced by a matte black coloring. She reached in to pull the half heart out, but it crumbled to dust at her touch. She stared at the box for a long, long moment. The Maiden bowed her head to Atrox. “So, Elder of the Sun God, what say you? Will you join the Sirens in their conquest of Equestria?” Atrox sneered. “We will not become subservient to the Fae, Unseelie or Seelie! We are Ahuziotl’s children! Let the earth tremble!” He stomped his hoof. No response came. He glanced around, his rage growing deeper. “Let the earth tremble!” “The whole point of my speech,” the Maiden said, “was that the Fae are not your enemy, nor Ahuizotl’s. They want the same thing he did: To free the sun from the tyrannical grip of the alicorns. They are the ones who abused its power. They are the ones who keep it from your rightful grasp.” “Throw these insignificant ants from our village!” Atrox shoved a muscular Painted One, who seemed more confused than anything. “Let the earth tremble!” Atrox’s hut exploded with a burst of magical rage. A scream the likes of which had never been heard in all the jungle ripped into the heads of those present. The nameless stallions who accompanied the Sirens fell dead, blood draining from their ears. Merry stumbled out of the wreckage, covered in dust and blood. Her eyes blazed with magic and fury as she limped towards Atrox. “If you will not grasp for the sun, you shall die in the shadows!” The Maiden rolled her eyes and walked outside the blast radius. The Painted Ones held in her sway followed her, some few remaining beside Atrox. The Painted One elder stood his ground before Merry. Spears appeared on either side of him, wielded by his most trusted warriors. “How dare you invade our—” “You were supposed to keep him safe!” Merry screamed. “You were supposed to keep him alive!” The spears leaped into midair and turned to point at their former wielders. Merry’s magic caused the spears to shatter, spraying the crowd with shivers of wood. Atrox’s Painted Ones rose into the air on currents of power. Their airways were restricted. Their hearts were compressed from every side. They fell, one by one, without a sound. She punched him in the middle of his chest. He flew back a meter or so. She grasped his collar and forced him back to his feet. A trail of blood trickled from his lip. “You took him away from me!” She shook him with all her strength. Spittle sprayed in his face as she raged. “You took away everything that I loved!” She grasped him by the neck and whipped him into the nearest tree, which was several yards away. She shuddered as she turned to face the crowd, who watched her with abject fear. The Maiden stepped between her and the Painted Ones, her head held high and her voice lined with honey. “So fall all those who would twist the words of Ahuizotl to suit their whims.” She stretched a hoof to them, a tender smile on her face. “Come, you have seen our power. Would you join your strength to that of the Sirens?” She lowered an ear as she peered at Merry. “Or will you seek… alternatives?” Merry wiped sweat from her face as she staggered away from the crowd. She didn’t care what the Maiden said next, with her silver tongue spoon-feeding lies to her prey. The Painted Ones were plenty, and would replenish the ranks of the Siren’s Mortal Corps. That was settled. That was sorted. But Poni was dead. Like her son was dead. Like her hopes and dreams were long dead. Her only wish was that the Lord of the Unseelie Court would keep his promise and help her finally resurrect her family. And that possibility grew weaker as the days grew longer. The rubble of the Painted One’s hut shifted, and a stallion groaned beneath. Merry lifted the thatch off the pony. She scowled at Kiln, who lay bruised and bloodied after her outburst. “You, too, were supposed to keep him safe.” “Poni…” Kiln’s voice was weak. He cradled his own head, curling in on himself. “I’m sorry…” “He can’t heard your apology,” Merry hissed. She stepped on his neck and prepared to lean in. “And neither can I.” “Help Ember…” Kiln coughed as his eyes blinked open. His senses had returned to him, the magic of the Sirens wearing off. “Please… protect my daughter.” Merry Mare paused. Her ears rose from their aggressive bent position. She hesitated in her movements to end his life. “She’s all I have left.” Kiln coughed, tears collecting at the edges of his eyes. “Please, dinnae hurt her.” Merry turned aside. She steadied herself with a calming breath. The Maiden continued to sweet-talk the Painted Ones in her own enchanting way. Merry flicked her tail. “You are… and always were… Poni’s best friend. I suppose that counts for something, doesn’t it?” Kiln tried to sit up, but failed. “I’m sorry, Merry—” “Shut up.” Merry’s necklace glowed. She lifted the hefty stallion into the air and dragged him along behind her. “Don’t say a word.” She carried him to the carriage and stuffed him inside. “When we’re finished,” she said, “you won’t remember any of this.” Merry returned to the hill overlooking the village. She saw the Maiden singing to the Painted Ones, swaying them completely with her Siren’s spell. Merry’s rough estimate was that there were three-to-four hundred of the Painted Ones, children included. The youngest were foundlings pulled from the streets and given a home. The eldest were those who had been so thoroughly indoctrinated on Ahuizotl’s godhood that they were unconvinced of his demise. But the Siren’s Song had a way of convincing ponies of anything. “They have labeled us insane But these alicorns are to blame Toss aside these weak reservations It’s a battle for preservation “We are Rising with the sun!” The Painted Ones sat as one, their inhibitions falling away. The Maiden walked among them, caressing their cheek, or brushing their mane. They welcomed the contact as if it came from their own mother. “The Siren’s melody washes Away your worry The abusers can’t see beyond Ponyville “Together we can take possession And bend it to our will Our holiest of creeds fulfilled!” The Maiden’s eyes flashed green, and her audience’s shimmered to match. She leaped atop a rock and led them like a choir. They sang along with a song they’d never heard the words to, so powerful was her control over them. Snakes of the Magic of the Sirens slithered through the village, passing through ears on their way to the listeners’ heart. “Gather in and lead the charge You painted ponies are living large The Siren’s power will sway a nation Don’t withhold your adoration “We are Rising with the sun!” *** Kiln lay on his cell’s cot within the Canterlot Penitentiary, located at the base of Canter Mountain, far from Canterlot or Ponyville. Turning himself in was the best decision he’d ever made in his life. At least… since Amber Waves died. He’d be safe in here. Far from Merry Mare. Far from the remaining Painted Ones. Far from that sociopath Rhombus. Hopefully, none of those would consider his existence now that Poni was gone. He didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hoof, Poni was a scumbag who hid the truth about his wife all these years. And yet… he did so to prevent Kiln from falling to Merry’s power as well. Perhaps Poni’s final act as his friend was to turn him away from that life once and for all. Perhaps lying, then cutting ties, was the only way to keep him alive. “Kiln Stovepipe?” A guardspony knocked on the bars of his cell. “You have a visitor. A young mare named Ember.” Kiln opened his eyes. He sat up in his cot. He stared at the guard for several seconds, unsure of what to say. “Ye must be mistaken. She disnae know I’m here.” “The evidence says otherwise.” The guard unlocked Kiln’s cell and beckoned him forward. “You wanna talk to her, or not?” “I… that is…” Kiln nodded and allowed the guard to chain his legs together. He shuffled alongside the guard as they were accompanied by a second, third, and fourth. Just enough ponies to take him down, should he fight back. He had no intention of doing so. He was where he belonged. The mare waiting for him was a unicorn, around twenty years of age, give or take. He was loath to admit that he had lost track in the years they’d been apart. Her coat was orange, and her mane a brilliant yellow. Freckles dotted her cheeks. Her curls were as unruly as her mother’s mane had been wavy. She got that from her father, he supposed. If he allowed his smartly-trimmed mane to grow, it would become a right mess of red spirals. “I was surprised to find out ye were here.” Her voice was new to him, but still retained a hint of the young girl he once knew. “I thought ye’d retire in some Giraffrican country, nae in a dingy cell.” “I was surprised ye could find me.” Kiln took his seat and stared at his daughter. He lowered his ears and his head. He felt so unworthy. He’d abandoned her to go on Poni’s quests. He’d left her in the care of cousins, and barely that. “I didnae tell anypony… anything.” “Mum’s old friend Merry Mare knew. She’s the one what told me.” Ember frowned deeply, her eyebrows low. “Uncle Skyquake told me I shouldnae come. But I did, so here I am.” Of all the questions he wanted to ask her, the only one that seemed appropriate was “Why?” “I was interested about where I came from. Like anypony would be, ye ken.” Ember crossed her forelegs. “I wanted tae see what sorta pony me father was.” “Aye, naught but a midden and nae mistake.” Kiln slumped in his seat. The glass partition between them fogged with his next breath. “I shoulda ne’er left ye.” “That’s the truth.” Ember raised an eyebrow. “Why did ye?” “When yer mum—” Committed suicide? Was murdered? Neither the truth nor a lie seemed appropriate. “—passed… life couldnae go on as it used tae. Too many things changed; most of all, me. Poni seemed to offer a way out. So I took it. And I left all I had behind, including ye.” He blinked, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I was so wrong. I was terrible wrong.” Ember watched him cry for a time, silent and thoughtful. When his sobs subsided, she interjected. “Can I ask ye sommat?” Kiln, his voice useless for the moment, bobbed his head. “Would ye tell me about mum?” Ember rubbed her foreleg, her tail swishing in apparent agitation. “Would ye tell me what she was like, how ye met, when she died? Would ye tell me about yerself? Before ye left? I’ve had nothin’ but questions for years. I just wanna know.” She placed her hoof on the glass. Anger, fear, elation, sorrow, hope, and unease flitted across her face in quick succession. “All these years, I just wanted a chance tae speak with ye. An’ now I finally caught up. Will ye speak tae me? Will ye show me the answers tae my questions? I dinnae even know if I love or hate ye. Please, just talk with me.” Kiln nearly broke out sobbing anew. He placed his hoof over hers. “The only thing I know for sure is that I love ye. I just dinnae know how tae show it.” His heart swelled with every emotion he could possibly feel. A confusing jumble of relief and anxiety, fear and faith, joy and despair. He pushed it all aside, for the sake of his daughter. “Aye. Let’s talk.”