//------------------------------// // SPECTACLE // Story: Never Seen // by semillon //------------------------------// Even after the six hours of Ex-Headmare Twilight taking them around the city, giving them a tour of the castle and hosting a scavenger hunt in the maze where Discord first made his return, and even though Silverstream was sweaty and tired from sightseeing, and all she wanted was to fly back to her room and sleep forever, seeing the sunset was well worth the effort. It was radiant, and she wasn’t prone to calling many things radiant. Radiant was a new word to her. No one ever used it back in Seaquestria, because not many things shone like the sun underwater. Radiant was something truly special, and this sunset, with the way that it glittered as it said See you later! to the world, it was radiant. “I take it you’re enjoying this?” Gallus asked. He had been the one scout the towers of Canterlot Castle, vetting the sights from the top of each one and coming away with the conclusion that Twilight’s old, unused tower had the best view. “Nope!” said Silverstream. “I hate it.” He nudged her side with an elbow. She laughed and pushed his arm away without looking. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the view. “Silly?” Gallus asked. He stood up and circled around before flopping back down, curled up beside her like a cat. “Yeah?” “Thanks for coming up here with me. I was kinda worried that you’d think watching the sun go down would be a stupid thing to do.” “Why would I think that?” “Cause I’m dumb.” “That’s pretty true.” She sighed aloud, happily. She inched a little closer to him. The roof was warm, and the way it felt on her butt made things extra comfy. “You know, I don’t even care that we’re missing curfew!” “I’m glad you think so,” said Gallus. He clicked his tongue. “I wish the others were here.” “Don’t think about it too much. They’re just sleepy babies. None of them could stay up past their bedtime if the world was ending,” Silverstream said. She smiled, and she didn’t know how, because it wasn’t a particularly large movement to make with one’s face, but there was a little shift in the air that let her know that Gallus was smiling too. “What was your favorite part about today?” he asked. “Weirdly enough, I really liked the shopping. There’s something about seeing Smolder and Sandbar play dress up that makes me laugh.” Silverstream had the answer immediately. “I loved everything!” That made Gallus laugh. “But if you had to pick one part?” Silverstream drummed her talons on the roof tiles, enjoying the pretty sound that they made when they were tapped in just the right way. “Well…” she trailed off, and realized she hadn’t taken her eyes off the sunset since she had first started admiring it. “Right now’s pretty good, I think. I have my best friend, and I have this beautiful sunset, and it’s the end of a good, long day. I think right now is my favorite part. What about you? Oh, oops. You already—” Arms wrapped around her and brought her close, and as Galllus squeezed her and wrapped a wing across her back, she realized that this was the first time he had ever hugged her on his own volition. Silverstream turned her face to him, and Gallus let go so she could pivot and hug him back. And then the sunset didn’t matter anymore. Silverstream hurried down the corridor towards the medical bay. Outside, the rain sounded like a bottle of soda fizzing over, only a thousand times louder. There were no crew members around as far as she could hear, and that made her feel so profoundly alone that when she finally reached the medical bay, she walked right into the door. Rubbing her beak, Silverstream entered the med bay, and she found all of the beds empty. Suddenly her insides felt like she had just chugged a glass of boiling water. Maybe Harvest had started walking around, and she and Gallus went back to the mess hall for drinks. Maybe they went to Gallus’s quarters and were safe there now. Maybe they hadn’t fallen victims to the kelpies. Maybe they weren’t walking through their most painful memories. Silverstream really hoped that she was the only one. She left the med bay, making purposeful strides toward the mess hall. She wondered what the kelpies might be showing Gallus, if they had taken hold of them. Was it Sandbar leaving Ponyville? Ocellus fracturing her exoskeleton? Or maybe his showdown against Catrina… She wondered if she had a place in Gallus’s broken heart. Maybe, Silverstream thought, she wasn’t worth it. Maybe she never mattered enough to Gallus to deserve a spot in his trauma trophy case. But that didn’t make sense, either, did it? Didn’t she have worse memories? Things that tore her up more than her broken friendship with Gallus? Why were her illusions based solely around him? Maybe the kelpies had picked up on their fight, and they were using all the fresh hurt to try and wound her further. Something that Seaspray had mentioned to her during his old sea monster stories was that kelpies were always looking for some new, fancy dark lord or lady to pledge themselves to. Kelpies were a sign of an alliance. In the off chance that you ever encounter one, my lady, you must stay on your guard. Kelpies are always followed by something worse. So, who sent the kelpies? Silverstream arrived at the mess hall and pushed her way past the doors... ...and ended up on a cliff next to Ghastly Gorge. “You’re kidding...” A hot velvet breeze brushed over her, making her tartan coat flap anxiously. She sighed. Her wings fidgeted, unable to stay still, ruffling her feathers enough that she was sure she’d have to spend an hour preening if she managed to survive this ordeal. The grass was still moist with morning dew. At the end of the cliff sat a dragon and a hippogriff—Smolder, and another double. Smolder’s legs swung one after the other, hanging over the cliff’s edge. The double merely stared down at the grass. Silverstream was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the specifics of their conversation, but from the tone of their voices, it was serious. She inched closer. These were definitely kelpies, but what else could she do? How else could she escape what happened? “I miss him,” said the double. “We used to talk every day and—Smolder, I don’t know what to do! What am I supposed to do? Sandbar came to my room yesterday and started crying. He hates this. He wants it to be done. He wants me and—he wants us to fix it already.” “Can it?” Smolder asked. Her claw rested on the double’s shoulder. “Look, I talked to Sandy. That wasn’t cool of him and he knows it. You don’t need to do anything that you don’t want to do. That you can’t do.” Smolder’s tail flopped to the side and curled up against her own thigh. “Are you listening, Silver? Talk to me.” “I’m sorry,” her double whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining everything, aren’t I? Do you think we’re going to be like this forever?” “Let’s find out,” said Smolder, but her voice was different. It was she was suddenly choking on water. Silverstream’s veins turned freezing cold. Her double and the illusion of Smolder turned back to face her. They were angry. “Who—uhm, who sent you?” Silverstream asked. Her words and her voice wavered. She took a step back. The two of them stood up, never once taking their eyes off of her. “Who sent you?” Silverstream asked again. “The King,” said her double. “The king?” Silverstream pressed. “Which king? The Storm King? Is—Is he back?” The kelpies didn’t say anymore. They looked at each other, and then suddenly dashed towards Silverstream. They were too fast. Silverstream went to lift her legs, to block them or at least soften their imminent impact, but Smolder got to her too quick. The dragon did not crash into her. Instead, Smolder flew past her and grabbed her neck with a claw. Silverstream was dragged backwards for several yards before being thrown roughly into the ground. Rocks cut her skin, making her gasp as sharp pain cut into her nerves. Damp, mushy grass stained her feathers green. Silverstream scrambled to her feet, but her double bucked her in the side and sent her rolling. Amy. Silverstream came to a full, groaning stop, and grabbed for the amulet around her neck. She cast a glance to the kelpies, who had slowed their approach now that she was beaten to the ground. She pulled the amulet away from her chest. Get me out of here. Take this magic away! For a moment, there was nothing, and then in an instant the air around her was warm with magic. The amulet began to glow! The top of Smolder’s foot whipped across her face. Silverstream moaned brokenly as her head snapped to one side. She heard something crack. Immediately it was as if breathing was the hardest thing in the entire world. Silverstream struggled to inhale. Two pairs of claws grabbed her hind legs, and she held her breath as she was dragged across the gravel, and then thrown into the air. Silverstream yelled aloud as she dropped. She was too weak to take both kelpies on. She couldn’t do it. She landed on coarse wood. She grunted and pulled herself to her feet. Her head was spinning, and felt hot. Tears trickled out of her eyes. For a second, she tried to swallow down the blood in her throat, but could only muster up a pulsing, writhing pain. How much more punishment could she take? How long before she simply couldn’t go on? Silverstream shook her head. No. She was still responsible for her crew. For Late Harvest. For the prisoners she had taken onto her ship. Lives were at stake. She wasn’t going to keel over and die because of a few rotten sea monsters! A crowd of idle conversation came to her ears. Silverstream searched around, taking in her surroundings. She immediately recognized where she was. Sunbeams flowed like golden yards of silk from the sky onto the sparkling lake, where the teaching staff and the very first graduating class of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s School of Friendship were all seated on what was essentially a giant raft, hoofbuilt out of apple-tree wood, floating in, and magically fastened to the centre of the lake. Silverstream was standing just before the stage, in front of rows upon rows of gowned students. Graduation day. She ignored the crowd for a moment, and peeked beyond the island where family, guests, and assorted members of the Ponyville Press were watching on the beach. It had been a highly publicized event. Her mom, brother, Skystar, and Auntie Novo had shown up, as did Princesses Luna and Celestia, and the rest of the Equestrian allies’ leaders. It was a full-blown spectacle. The world was watching the next generation of friendship come of age. Bringing her focus back to the crowd in front of her, Silverstream saw her younger self not a few paces away, seated with the rest of her friends. The speeches clearly hadn’t started yet, but she could already hear wet sniffles coming from Sandbar and Ocellus. Yona wouldn’t be far behind. Smolder, Silverstream remembered, cried after the ceremony, once they’d retreated to the Treehouse. Silverstream realized who was missing. Her stomach flipped as the entire crowd erupted into joy as the Valedictorian took the stage, just behind her. She heard the familiar flaps of his wings. She wanted to leave, but she wouldn’t let herself. She had to let this play out, take on whatever kelpie revealed itself, and get out. But first she had to watch. The kelpies had extracted the perfect memory to torture her. One that she had replayed in her head every day for the past ten years. Silverstream turned around. His podium was directly above her. She looked up at his proud, handsome face on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life. Gallus looked mature. Serene. He looked upon his peers with proud, wet eyes, boldly vulnerable in a way that made the grumpy griffon that everycreature had gotten to know on that very first day of school completely unrecognizable. This was his moment. The applause died down. Gallus cleared his throat. Silverstream wanted to look away. She didn’t. Her mind’s eye was only so vivid. The accuracy, the detail to which this moment was constructed was almost dazzling. It was like she was at a magic show. “Hey, guys,” said Gallus. “So...we made it, huh?” Cheering pierced through the air. Gallus grinned. He continued when it began to die down. “I guess it’s speech time. Wrap up four years in the span of, what, like, five minutes? You know, I was worried about what the world would think when Twilight first told me I was going to be Valedictorian. Ocellus has way better grades than me—than all of us, actually—and she’s a lot cuter than me, too.” Laughs came from the students and the changeling spectators. Ocellus smiled bashfully. “After I apologized to Ocellus, and made completely sure that she wasn’t going to kill me for taking her spot…” Another chorus of giggles came from the crowd, dying down faster than the last. “I guess I started to think to myself: ‘Why me?’. I mean, I’m awesome, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that I’m any more special than any of you. “So...why me? Well, I think I just said it. I think it’s because I’m not any more special than any of you. I think that I’m up here, addressing you all today before we get on with the rest of our lives, because I am one of you. We are all part of each other. That’s why Princess Twilight decided that she was going to invite not only ponies, but the other creatures that live on this continent. “I’m here because I’m nobody. I grew up on the streets of Griffonstone, alone, hungry all the time...and now my life’s better than it’s ever been. I have friends. A life. A future. I’m here because I’m living proof that friendship makes your life that much better, and that anyone and everyone who’s willing to take the time and effort to understand it, deserves it. I’m here to show the world that there’s everything to gain from opening yourself up to friendship, and nothing to lose.” Gallus’s voice wavered. He put on a quick smile. “And you all know how much I love making a profit.” Tearful laughs rang out from the crowd like morning bird songs. Silverstream’s heart was racing. She felt herself begin to sweat. Still, she didn’t look away. She had made her bed. She was going to lie in it. “So, now that I’m done telling you why I’m qualified to give this speech, I think it’s time to finally start making a point and talk about someone other than myself. “Over the years we’ve been through it all: from Professor Pinkie’s lectures on proper key lime pie that somehow ended up arming us with the knowledge to make fireworks, Headstallion Sunburst’s accidental summonings of nearly every obscure demon you could find in a library’s forbidden knowledge section...oh, and who could ever forget their first time seeing Professor Blaze turn into a Nirik? “Yeah. We’ve—we’ve come pretty far. Makes you wonder where the time went, right?” Gallus asked. Silverstream heard Ocellus begin to cry. She wanted to cry as well, no tears fell. “You all ready for the cheesy part? Alright, here goes… I have had an amazing four years with you. All of you. I’m proud to call you my friends. I doubt any of us will soon forget the kindness we’ve shared with other at this school, nor the laughter. The honest truth of our lessons will shine through for the rest of our lives, and the generous gifts that we’ve received are what we’ll cherish forever. We will step into our new lives, loyal to the things we’ve learned and the friends we’ve made, and let me tell you: we’re going to work some magic.” The sun hit the stage in such a way that it lit Gallus from behind, and through the gold shining off of his feathers and the playful way that he smiled, so satisfied with himself, he looked positively radiant. Silverstream felt her body grow sicker as the crowd collectively gasped. This was a paragon of friendship. This was the love that the school had nurtured, grown healthy and thriving. “But as much as you’re all my very best friends, I’d like to call out some specific ones. A group of creatures who’ve made me the griffon that I am today, and who I’ll always be grateful for. Because as much as it makes sense for me to be up here today, it makes more sense for me to share the stage with my friends. My family. “You might remember us from the very first Friends and Family Day, which we totally wrecked,” Gallus said, to a few nostalgic chuckles from the crowd. He then turned to Silverstream’s double, and he smiled. Without malice. Without desperation. With joy. Hope. Pure love. Acid licked at Silverstream’s insides. She struggled not to vomit. “Sandbar, Ocellus, Yona, Smolder...Silverstream? Why don’t you guys come up here so we can steal the spotlight one last time?” The crowd cheered. Silverstream watched as her friends got up. She watched as her double stayed seated. Her expression was empty, a contrast to the visible tenseness in her shoulders. Sandbar, Ocellus, Yona and Smolder took the stage. Silverstream did not. It was like she hadn’t heard him, like his voice hadn’t been washing over the entire crowd for the last few minutes. There was a pause. Silverstream closed her eyes as Gallus waited. “Silverstream?” he said. Unsure. Hopeful. She didn’t move a muscle. Gallus attempted to go on with the speech, as planned, but she had been successful in completely ruining the moment. The crowd’s attention had split between him and her. Their eyes drifting between them endlessly. Gallus’s diction had faltered. He failed to say the words in quite the same, magical way. He never stuttered, but he took long pauses in the middle of sentences, and it was only through Ocellus’s constant nudging that Gallus had even finished was he was going to say. In the current moment, however, the speech didn’t continue. Silverstream shuffled in place anxiously. The projections of her friends stood smiling at the crowd, frozen in time. There was a stillness in the air. Something was wrong. Undeniably out of place. Silverstream backed away from the crowd. They weren’t breathing. The miniscule amount of noise that the act of breathing made—the shuffling of clothes as chests rose and fell, the murmured inhaling and exhaling—was absent. It was like being in a forest that was completely silent. The crowd turned to look at her. All of them. Pairs and pairs of emotionless but somehow judging, somehow intrusive eyes that would take her days to count. Silverstream continued walking backwards, shaking her head. “I...I—” She fell off of the island, and the water dragged her down. Silverstream gasped for breath, but water flooded her mouth and her throat and lungs, and she shut her eyes and beak. Her claws went to her amulet. You have to work! You have to! The Amulet of Aurora lit the water up. The darkness around her turned white. Impossible to look at. Silverstream smashed into the deck. Her body was aching. Urgently, she doubled over and started to cough. Water spouted from her throat and splashed against the floor. Her lungs were tired and caustic, but she could breathe again. Air had never felt so good. “What the fuck was that?” came a voice. “It’s the Captain!” said another. “Came outta nowhere!” Her crew. Her crew was here. Silverstream attempted to stand and address them, but there came the blunt crash of a fist against her face, and then there was nothing. The castle from Ocellus’s report was easy to find. It wasn’t doing much to try and hide itself, after all. It was a giant, black castle in the middle of the white tundra. It had a stupid amount of stairs, and nothing decorating its insides. It was reminiscent of the Castle of the Two Sisters in that way, except it was completely hollow. There were no memories to be found here, only a fight at the top floor. Spatterings of blood were bright against the lighter colors of Gallus’s face. His wings flapped uselessly, and the crown on his head looked as if it would fall off. He struggled to stand, but couldn’t, and so as he kept trying to lift his exhausted body off of the castle’s cold stone floor, he focused a scowl at the creature in front of him. It looked like a minotaur, only his body—from the neck down—was covered in a raging fire. His eyes, sclera to pupil, were blacker than coal, nothing in them except empty hunger. “You won’t get away with this,” Gallus gasped. “Maybe not,” replied Lavan, his voice like a grove of trees on fire, “but I will kill you, and you won’t ever get to find out.” Gallus attempted to throw himself at Lavan, but only really made it a few feet forward before he collapsed onto the ground again. “He really beat the shit out of you,” said Harvest. The real Gallus flinched. He had forgotten that she was even standing there. He took a second to stabilize his breathing, and rolled his eyes in response to her.. The scene that played out before them appeared to have reached a climax. Lavan stood over the beaten body of Young Gallus, who, to his credit, exuded nothing but contempt with everything he did—even the shuddering breaths he took were directed angrily at the creature above him. Lavan lifted a hand. Fire appeared in his palm. “You are brave,” he said, winding his arm back. Young Gallus closed his eyes. Lavan roared as he twisted and threw the ball of fire at his head. An orange blur flew across the castle floor, and the fire hit the ground instead, exploding brilliantly upon impact. Young Gallus opened his eyes and found himself in the safe, strong arms of Smolder, who squeezed him hard. “Sorry for calling you useless,” she said. “Are you okay?” “Sorry for calling you a dumb cunt,” he replied, resting his head on her chest. “I’m alright. Been better.” He coughed. From their spot on the sidelines, Harvest fixed Gallus with a dirty look that he saw out of the corner of his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders, but didn’t bother to turn and look at her. Smolder wasted no time. She gently placed Young Gallus on the floor and stood between him and Lavan, who looked verifiably angry now. “The others?” asked Young Gallus. “On their way. I’m the vanguard,” said Smolder. “It was a while before we realized that you were here, so everyone else had me fly as fast as I could. I’m glad you’re alive, by the way. I half thought I’d find your corpse. Is the crown still working?” “I’m ready.” Smolder nodded. “Hit me.” For a moment, Young Gallus’s eyes were taken over by a white light as the Crown of Grover’s purple gem shone brightly. Smolder grinned before her eyes were overcome with the same light, and she levitated off of the ground. Then, all the light shuttered off, and she was back on her feet. “My Inner Fire,” Smolder said. She snorted a plume of smoke out of her nostrils, rolling her shoulders as a practiced smirk bled onto her expression. Gallus nodded. The Crown of Grover glowed majestically. “For the record, I’m glad you didn’t find me dead either.” Lavan yelled incoherently and extended both his arms outward. Thick tendrils of fire emerged from them, hurling towards Smolder. Smolder crouched, one foot in front of the other, and breathed in. Lavan’s fire came within inches of her. She breathed out. Purple fire beat back against Lavan’s, crashing against it like angry tides against a cliff. Slowly, surely, Lavan’s fire died out, and the purple stream bore down on him without mercy. Lavan screamed as it engulfed him completely. But Smolder could only breathe for so long. The Crown of Grover stopped glowing, and her fire petered out to reveal Lavan still standing, albeit with his posture broken, as well as his confidence. He sure didn’t show it, though. He roared again, loud enough for Smolder to wince. “Chill out,” she said. Lavan stepped towards her. “I’ll destroy you!” Smolder’s wings shot out. She held her claws out in front of her and sneered. “I dare you to try, buddy!” There came a rush of wings and hoofsteps behind them, coming from the entrance. “Not without us!” yelled Sandbar, coming in beside her. Around his body was a light green cloak fastened with a clover brooch. He reached into it and pulled a giant seashell out, passing it to Smolder as he waited for the rest of their friends to arrive. Silverstream got to Gallus first, helping him onto Yona’s back before they joined Sandbar, Smolder and Ocellus in facing off against Lavan. Gallus swallowed audibly. “G-Guys, I’m—” “Apologies later, dude,” said Sandbar, turning to him with a wink. “We’ve got a bad guy to take down, remember?” “Right,” said Gallus. He rolled to his side and fixed a glare on Lavan. “Ready to go back to whatever extradimensional hole you crawled out of?” Lavan roared again. The fire around his body blazed. He stretched his arms out. “Everyone ready?” asked Gallus, to affirmative grunts from his friends. “Alright, guys. Let’s end this!” Fire wrapped around Lavan’s body as his roar grew louder, and he erupted into a swirling pillar of flames, heating the air in the room like an oven. The fire stood still for a long moment, and then it launched itself towards them. Gallus put a claw to his crown. His eyes lit up, and a silvery hue surrounded him as he began to float up. The same happened to his friends. They floated, eyes aglow, into the air until they formed a circle with Gallus in the middle. Their respective artifacts pulsed with energy, humming subtly enough that the noise was eventually lost to Lavan’s raging fire. The Crown of Grover connected the minds and hearts of creatures, pooling their energy and enhancing it to a heightened level. It was how Grover managed to inspire an entire city to greatness. All for one, one for all. Lavan, wrapped in his blazing fire, got to the six quickly, but instead of bulldozing past them, the pillar of flames was stopped in its place. The same silver light that surrounded the six surrounded the fire, and Gallus smiled as his friends’ energy began to flow through him, the crown weaving their energy together. “Lavan,” he said, his voice echoing through the room. “You’ve proven yourself to be behind the recent disappearances in the Crystal Empire. You’ve kidnapped our loved ones, hurt our friends, put Equestria in danger. But we have something that you don’t.” Through the fire’s crackling, another roar could be vaguely heard. “Friendship, asshole,” Gallus said. “It’s friendship.” The magic coursing through them swirled into an unstable, spitting orb in front of them that grew larger and larger until it split into silver ribbons and wrapped around Lavan’s fire, slithering around it until it was wrapped tight. Slowly, the fire began to die. “What’s it like?” asked Harvest. Gallus, snapping out of his trance, turned away from the battle to look at the earth pony. “Not enjoying the show?” “There’s a little too much light. It’s hurting my eyes. What does using the crown feel like? Growing up pony, you hear a lot about all these different artifacts and the cool stuff that you can do with them, but no one ever talks about what using them feels like.” Gallus frowned. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve forgotten?” Harvest smiled at that, but there was something in the way her eyebrows furrowed that put an undertone of sadness to her expression. “Nah. You don’t remember anything?” There was one thing. Gallus went to tell her, but blinding light washed over the entirety of the room, fading quickly to reveal the six panting over a shiny red crystal stallion laying on the ground. Remnants of Lavan’s fire still remained across the room, but they died out as the creatures gathered themselves. “Did...did we do it?” Silverstream asked. “Tie him up,” Ocellus gasped. Sandbar, producing a bundle of rope, went to work with Smolder, tightly binding the crystal pony in no time. Young Gallus was wiped out. Yona had helped him sit up against a wall, but beyond that, he could do nothing to help. “Guys?” he said loudly, encouraging everyone to turn to him. “I’m really sorry.” Gallus remembered this. How ashamed he felt. He felt a need to watch this moment intently. It was never the first thing he thought about when he remembered this night. Yona patted his shoulder with a hoof. “It’s okay. Friends forgive.” She looked to the rest of the group. “Friends forgive, yes?” Ocellus nodded, Silverstream gave a thumbs up. Young Gallus turned to Smolder and Sandbar nervously. The two creatures shared a look... Without saying another word, the duo rushed him and held him in their embrace, and the younger Gallus began to cry as the tangle of supportive limbs grew as each of their friends joined in, evolving into a saccharine group hug. Gallus groaned, mostly to himself. He felt his feathers ruffling, the skin underneath them tingling electrically. When the group pulled apart, Smolder singled out Ocellus, Silverstream and Yona. “I guess it’s time we got to your dads, huh?” “Pharynx isn’t my dad!” Ocellus protested. “He basically is,” said Smolder, putting a claw on the side of her face and brushing a thumb against her cheek. “We’ll watch this joker.” She drew her claw away from Ocellus and gestured to the crystal pony on the floor. Silverstream looked to Gallus, who had sat down against a wall beside Sandbar. Worry pirouetted behind her hyperactive eyes. “Did you see them? Were they okay?” Gallus nodded. “They were here when I arrived. Before I could get to them Lavan trapped me in a ring of fire and magicked them out of the room. They’re probably still in the castle, though. I think I heard them yelling from around the hall.” Silverstream sighed. “Good. We’ll get on it. That’s what we came for! To save our dads!” “Prince Yak good yak, but not dad yak,” Yona said, though she was already cantering off to the doorway that led to the rest of the castle with Ocellus. Silverstream followed them, cheerily announcing, “Well, Sky Beak is my dad!” A conversation about the definition and specifics of fatherhood proceeded, though it disappeared around the corner with the trio. Smolder looked to Sandbar and Gallus and she smirked. “Well, now that the girls are gone…” Sandbar chuckled. Gallus attempted to, but then, his lungs were too weak. “Take it easy, bud,” Smolder said, sitting on the ground in front of him. “You don’t wanna overwork yourself.” Gallus wheezed, both out of pain and as a replacement for a real laugh. “Sure thing, mom.” “Mom?” Smolder repeated. “If anyone’s the mom here, it’s Sandbar. You shoulda seen him once Ocellus figured out you weren’t going back to town. He cried a whole bucket begging me to come after you. I said yes. Obviously.” Her voice lowered. “I’m glad I did, for the record, but I’m no mom.” “I can accept that,” said Gallus. “Wait, what were we talking about?” Sandbar asked. He blinked hard and turned to them. “I was spacing out.” “You know, he’s actually more of a little sister,” Gallus said. “Nah.” Smolder shook his head. “Mom, for sure.” Sandbar’s eyes narrowed. “Are we discussing getting me pregnant again?” Smolder smirked. “Now that you mention it—” “Let’s not go down that road,” Gallus said. He regarded Sandbar with mirth in his eyes. “Smolder said you were begging her to come for me?” Sandbar blushed. “W-We had no idea how long you’d been at the castle. Lavan—” “Has anyone looked at him, by the way?” Smolder asked, turning to the crystal pony in the center of the room. He was still unconscious, still tied up, and didn’t seem to present any threat. “I mean, it was like we all forgot about him the second we had permission to.” “What could be wrong with him?” asked Sandbar. “I dunno. What if he’s dangerous? Or dead?” “Ocellus would have noticed.” “Oh. Yeah.” “You guys rely on her too much,” said Gallus. “She’s the smartest creature in this castle,” Smolder countered. “And besides, you’re the one pulling all-nighters with her every weekend.” “Jealous?” Smolder scoffed. A loud, pained whining came from the crystal pony. Sandbar and Smolder stood, expressions and interest perked. Gallus stayed seated. The crystal pony attempted to tear at his binds, but was powerless in their grasp. He writhed, whining further, speaking no words in a way that brought a primal alertness to the three creatures watching him. Smolder and Sandbar exchanged looks. Sandbar stepped forward. “Hello?” The crystal pony froze. His head swivelled towards them. His eyes were a sickly yellow. His fur, which was as glossy and perfect as the rest of his tribe, was visibly matted and sweaty. “Hello?” he said. His red coat seemed to dim a little. “Hello? Hello?” Sandbar moved before Smolder and Gallus could protest. He was kneeling by the stallion in an instant, a worried frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re safe. What’s your n—” The crystal pony spat in his face. Sandbar cried out, stepping away. The room lit up with an orange glow as Smolder shot a sharp stream of fire over the crystal pony’s head, who merely smiled plainly in response. She darted in front of Sandbar in a second, protectively placing herself between the two ponies with her wings flared. “Sandbar!” Gallus yelled. Sandbar wiped his face with a groan. “I’m fine, guys. No need to—” The crystal stallion erupted into a sudden, spasming bout of laughter, whipping his head around as he rocked back and forth from his place on the floor. Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Got somethin’ to say?” “I melted them!” squealed the stallion, grinning up at her. “Together!” Back at the sidelines, away from the scene, the real Gallus closed his eyes. Beside him, Harvest shifted nervously. “Hey, what does he mean?” “What do you mean?” Young Gallus said. “What does that mean?” Smolder attempted to say something, but she took to the air instead, flying to the room’s exit and howling “Celly! Ocellus! Don’t—” Contorted, horrified screams slipped into the room from around the corner. Smolder’s wings locked, and she fell to the ground, barely landing on her feet. The griffon and pony behind her didn’t move—couldn’t. Smolder shook her head, exhaling heavily as she took to the air once again, towards the exit. That was when the screaming turned to sobbing. Gallus’s closed eyes began to feel less like an escape and more like a dead end. Harvest had gone completely silent. “No! Please—no!” Silverstream shrieked twice, loud and hard enough that she was surely damaging her lungs Her voice sounded like an animal’s. “Daddy! Daddy!” Gallus grabbed his own wrist, intending to still its shivering, but there was nothing he could do for the slight quiver in his hind legs. He opened his eyes as the scene stopped cold: his copy was in the midst of being helped up by Sandbar. Despair had already wormed its way into their expressions. Harvest was shaking beside him, as scared as anyone in the room. He considered placing a claw on her back, but instead he walked towards his copy and Sandbar. He didn’t want to see what she was thinking, anyway. Experiencing horror yourself was one thing—seeing the same horror on multiple faces over and over was different. Gallus stood before the double and Sandbar and he tried not to pay too much attention to their expressions. He crouched slightly, bracing himself for the impending action. “Alright, guys. Your stupid show’s over. Which one of you is it?” His double dropped to the floor. Sandbar took a step forward. His eyes flooded with green. “Right,” said Gallus. “I have to fight Sandbar. Woe is me. Whatever will I do?” The earth pony took a running start and leapt at him, legs outstretched and roaring. Gallus avoided Sandbar’s tackle by rolling onto his back right before the moment of impact. He stretched his hindlegs out, planting them on Sandbar’s belly as he grabbed the earth pony’s forelegs, and continued the momentum of the roll, keeping his legs straight and taut until their positions reversed, and Gallus was straddling Sandbar, coming nose to nose with him as the roll stopped. “Guess what?” said Gallus. He leaned his weight back and squeezed his legs, tightening himself against Sandbar’s chest. “I’m going to take everything—every single thing—out on you.” Gallus pulled his elbow back towards him and twisted as he whipped it against Sandbar’s snout. A crack split the air. Sandbar barked in pain and tried to turn around, but Gallus stayed on top. He refused to be shaken. He continued elbowing the kelpie’s face, relentless and savage and growling ferally with each successful hit. Spatterings of pink blood began to cover the two of them. He could vaguely hear Harvest behind him, yelling at him to do something, but Gallus missed her completely. All he could think about was pain and causing it, and how he deserved twice the amount he was dishing out. When Gallus went to bring his elbow back, he noticed that something was wrong. The creature under him no longer resembled Sandbar—it barely looked like anything at all. Gallus was on a mass of writhing, rotting plant life, and somewhere in the green he could make out a pair of sickly eyes. A tendril of wet plant wrapped itself around Gallus’s neck and began to squeeze. He went to tear it off, but another tendril restrained his left wrist, and then another had his right. Gallus grunted, trying to launch himself backwards, but there were more plants wrapping around him by the second. He could barely move. The eyes floated to the top of the mass of plants, and the plants formed a head that vaguely resembled a hippogriff’s. Two curved, jagged pieces of rock jutted out of where the hippogriff’s beak should have been, and it opened its mouth and lunged at Gallus— Harvest’s hind hooves smashed through the head, splattering pink blood on the castle floor. The plants went limp, and Gallus fell on his back. He quickly rolled over and coughed, vigorously rubbing his neck as he crawled from the monstrous vegetation. Harvest’s eyes were dilated. Her gaze flitted between Gallus and the kelpie’s corpse. “You—you okay?” “Fine,” said Gallus. “Thanks.” “Don’t...mention it.” “I’ll try not to,” he said. He stood and placed a claw on Harvest’s shoulder. He was still short of breath. “We need to keep moving. Hopefully that was the last one, but I kind of doubt it.” “Right,” said Harvest. She was shaking, but she went along when Gallus pulled her from the gruesome sight. They walked to the end of the room together, to the closed stone doors, and they stepped through. The first thing that Gallus noticed was the heat. The second was the burning barn in the distance. Flames crept up its side, blackening its pastel yellow paint as it consumed the wood. Gallus squinted at the barn. If this was a place he had been to before, he barely remembered— Harvest gasped.