Silver could only watch helplessly as he was dragged up into another world. He mentally screamed, struggling desperately to channel his magic and escape. But he could no more do that than anything else. The area in front of him was clear, but that was all.
Whatever terrible spell the bodyguards of Rockshanks had used, it didn’t even have the decency of killing him. He was forced to watch as the metal ramp gave way to stone, then at last the thin veneer of wood. The unicorns didn’t keep levitating him—after climbing up several twisting ramps towards what had to be the peak of a skytower. They had some kind of cart waiting for him, a wheeled platform that let them relax.
Their spell didn’t fail, though. Rockshanks circled around to the front of it, meeting his eyes. Silver couldn’t hear anymore, but his mouth was moving. Even so, he could guess. This would be the gloating over his victory—probably something about how Flint was incompetent, and he’d been hoping for Silver to get rid of her for him.
I’ve earned my spot. I followed the rules; I fought your duel, and you attacked me. I leave the Alicorn gun in my satchel, and this is what I get in return? The ones ruling over Moonrise didn’t even care about their own rules. And why should the Lord Regent glance at the ponies living in the dirt, when the world was like this? Maybe they’ll execute me by leaving me out in space. I’ll have to have my magic ready.
Silver Star had been incredibly young when he saw this place, though unlike his brother some of his memories had persisted. The skytowers were themselves divided into floors, with the most important ponies living near the top. The air was fresher there, not perpetually damp with condensation and smelling of mold. Some part of him expected a military barracks, with sturdy ponies lining up for the invasion… but that wasn’t what was there.
Instead he was carted into a ballroom, with floors of polished wood and many ponies gathered in celebration. They didn’t seem to care they’d been about to run out of air, and certainly the night didn’t bother them. With all the vents overhead, they probably wouldn’t even shiver up here.
Silver Star didn’t get another good view of the Regent, but he saw plenty of fancy ponies. Many wore military uniforms, though not the kind he was used to from the lower city. These weren’t secondhand, but bright blue or purple with shiny Lunarium buttons and polished black shoes. Some wore dresses, or coats with frocks. They carried weapons, but not rusty clubs. For all he knew, these sabers might actually be silver, and the rifles had wooden stocks with gold in back.
If there was any mercy to Silver in his makeshift prison, it was that he couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t hear the Lord Regent’s speech, or the laughter and mockery from the ponies outside. He could still see them point and grin to one another, and it didn’t take much to imagine what they must be feeling. He couldn’t even glare back at them, couldn’t even look properly defiant. His body was frozen in the exact moment he’d been captured, looking stupefied.
Silver couldn’t say how long he was kept at the front of the party. Eventually attention turned from him, and the crowd returned to their eating. There were tables overflowing with fruit here, loaves of bread bigger than his head, even bat delicacies like moth flambé. From the condensation on the edge of a nearby bowl, Silver guessed they were even serving a myth his father had told him about from an early age: ice cream.
He didn’t taste any of it, not that he would have. How could he enjoy all this when he knew how many were starving down below? Was the cold setting in yet? How much longer did the Whites and Yellows have in their shelters before they started dying?
Ponies made their way up to his prison, faces mocking. A few pointed or gestured, some just spat and walked away. Silver didn’t need to hear their insults to imagine what they were probably saying. ‘This is the pony who thought he could change the world? This is the revolution we feared?’
Apparently not. He’d done everything he could’ve dreamed of. He knew how to walk out in the vacuum of space, he’d seen the Sacred City, he’d seen Flint get the justice she deserved. But the ending… it was all wrong. I guess you were smarter than I was, Magpie. You always said you weren’t a fighter. As soon as we were losing, you got out.
Eventually the party ended, and ponies filed out. The lights dimmed, and his cart rolled again. He caught no glimpse of the Lord Regent. If this was the path to his execution, wouldn’t he at least want to be there? Or was Silver Star so beneath contempt that he would die without even an enemy to watch.
It wasn’t the party that hurt the most, or even knowing that all the ponies counting on him would soon die. After all, there was still some hope there. He hadn’t seen what happened at the entrance. Maybe his soldiers would open the gates again and let everypony die. Did any of them really have the heart to murder their families so that other ponies would die too?
Silver couldn’t tell from inside his crystal prison, but from the lack of wind rustling at the tapestries or suffocated ponies on the floor, he doubted it.
They didn’t travel to an execution, or even some secret path to the surface for him to be abandoned. Of course they would know not to do that, after all the magic he’d used during his duel with Flint.
Instead, Silver watched as he was pushed into somewhere barely large enough for his prison. A closet, or a cell. Worn gray bricks waited outside, and nothing else. Then the lights went out, and he couldn’t even see that. This is when they kill me, right? Their stasis spell strangles me. I won’t have to wait here.
No death came. Silver had no sense of time there in the dark, though it felt like there was ample time to go around. Mentally he raged, wanted to smash the walls and blast them apart with a thousand spells. But the Lord Regent hadn’t even given him the chance to fight. Maybe he’d realized that a pony who could fight his lackey would also be a threat to him. Maybe he thought a life of parties and plenty didn’t prepare him for the dangers of the lower city.
There was enough time for curses to go around. For Flint, who had tormented so many ponies for so long, the Lord Regent for his dishonor, Magpie for abandoning him, the princess for looking blindly away from the suffering of her subjects. He even cursed his brother for being lucky enough to die instead of seeing all this.
While I’m frozen here, ponies are getting colder. Maybe they’re already dying. They weren’t in good health to start with. And if they don’t freeze, they’ll eventually starve.
His little rebellion hadn’t opened the floodgates and drained the rest of the air. At least that was something he could be thankful for. It worked great as a threat, but less so when he thought about all of Moonrise dying.
His memory of the high Greens and Blues and Purples was fresh. They hated him. Could he hate them?
If I’d been born into that life, would I know any better?
“Of course you would,” said a voice, breaking through the eternal silence of his cell. Silver was still trapped, and consciously he knew there was a wall centimeters from the edge of the crystal trapping him.
That didn’t stop a pony from striding into his view, hobbling on crutches with each step. His coat was dull silver, washed to white in his mane from the stress of many years. “Father?” He couldn’t speak, but the words came anyway.
The pony seemed to reach out, settling a hoof on his shoulder. One eye was cloudy with cataracts, the other icy blue. He’d never been so close to it before. “I thought I raised you better than this, Silver. Stars don’t hallucinate. Can’t lie to yourself like this.”
Silver smiled weakly, wiping a tear away. It wasn’t real either—he was still frozen. But the longer it continued, the more concrete it all felt. “Sorry, Dad. I’ll do better next time.”
“Bucking better.” The stallion’s horn glowed, and a brown satchel lifted from his back. It clanked loudly as he settled it at his hooves, tools rattling together. Something levitated out from within—an intricate mechanical pocket-watch, with its gears and sprockets all gliding around it through the air. Argent Star lifted a little silver mallet, and began to work, tapping each piece into place while squinting at it with his single good eye. “I was saying. Don’t make excuses for evil, son. You do see it, and you do what I did. Spit in its face. You aren’t going to help them murder.”
Silver laughed, his voice bitter. “That’s noble, Dad. Not doing what they wanted, not following their rules. But the regent killed you. Then Ivory froze in a ditch. I would’ve too, if…”
Something hit him in the face. Not like the duel. No one was trying to kill him. His father’s mallet felt cold against his coat, even though it couldn’t actually be there. “I raised you better ‘an self-pity too, Silver.” Quiet taps of his mallet echoed against the metal, sounding almost like glass. “Nopony hurt more than I. It wasn’t supposed to…” He sighed. “It’s agony to see what happens sometimes, Silver. But you can’t second-guess yourself every moment. Go another step with evil, because it will do more harm if you don’t? Lies.”
The unicorn shook his head, long white mane hanging briefly in front of his face. He brushed it away, then went back to his watch. It was almost finished now, just the delicate little glass face left to settle into place. “Five hundred years ago, a good pony named Luna saw the evil happening in her world. She fought it, even knowing it would ruin her life. Even though… well, lots of ponies suffered. Wars ain’t good for anypony but the accountants.”
Silver jolted. “You mean… you’re saying we’re going through all this because she made deals with Nightmare? The thing that… created the Voidseekers. That’s what Polestar said.”
“Wise pony, then.” His father removed a little cloth, covering up the glass face before tapping at it with his hammer again. “If I was still alive, I’d help you. But that’s why ponies have foals in the first place. Someone’s got to take up the mantle. Finish what I started. Centuries have gone by with ponies tolerating evil. Now they’re surprised when it gets worse? Please. I didn’t finish your education, but I didn’t raise you to be stupid.”
He raised his mallet, tapping lightly on the glass. His strike seemed like a torrential blow, shuddering the whole world around Silver. His body shook, and a thousand daggers stabbed suddenly into his face. “What… what am I supposed to do?” he asked dumbly. “I’m already captured. It’s a little late for advice.”
“About that,” the stallion said, readying his mallet. “Do better this time.”
He swung the hammer, and Silver Star’s world exploded.
For a few moments, Silver was frozen in place, holding that same stupefied pose he’d been captured in. Then he slumped to one knee, all strength draining from him. He drew in a harsh breath of air, his head spinning. Of course he must’ve had air somehow, he would’ve died in minutes without it. But his body didn’t seem to realize what was so obviously wrong, or care.
“You just going to stand there in the dark?” asked a familiar voice. Based on the echo off the walls of the small room, he guessed it was actually real this time.
Silver’s horn flickered, just bright enough to see the figure waiting in the open doorway. She wore thick robes, and one of the silly paper masks that had been passed around at the party. But under all that, he could see through her eyes, as her body caught the glow of his horn and refracted a hundred different ways. “Magpie?”
She hurried over, brushing at him with one leg. Wisps of red crystal fell around him, turning to smoke as soon as they broke contact with his body. The stasis spell was finally ended. “Who else would save you from your stupid plans? It’s basically my full-time job at this point.”
He hugged her, though he was careful not to squeeze too hard. Even with his helmet shattered, the rest of his body was still wearing the air-armor. Broken and useless now, holding a hind leg rigid. “I thought you’d given up on me. You didn’t watch the fight.”
She returned the embrace. Even so, her tone was still harsh, sarcastic. But he wouldn’t have believed she was the real Magpie if she wasn’t. “What good would that do? I’m standing right in the line of fire if they screw us. Well, when they screw us. I told you this would happen—big important ponies make rules for everyone else. They don’t have to obey them.”
He held on for another moment more. He’d never touched her for so long, not even when she was still… well, not alive. She was more alive now, wasn’t she? Undead? Finally he rose, teeth gritting grimly together. “Did he attack the exit? Is everypony…”
Magpie shook her head. “I didn’t get close, but I think they were only afraid of you. They have soldiers nearby, ready to attack if they open the airlock again. Otherwise they’ll just wait until they freeze, then clean up the mess.”
Bastards. The shelters would last a little longer, but not much. Maybe another day, if nopony opened the doors? The ponies inside were already weakened from the early parts of night. They didn’t have time for a clever plan.
“I can’t let them die, Magpie.”
Silver tugged on the edges of his broken helmet, separating it from the armor and tossing it aside. He shook his leg, and the thin foam inside crumbled away under his touch. It was stiff, but some protection was better than none. Without the armor, he probably would’ve broken his leg.
“I know,” she said. “You’re not a Voidseeker, you can’t just go to the surface and wait for Rockshanks to die. Once you got into this, it was going to kill one of you. I tried to warn you.”
I wouldn’t do anything differently. Except maybe come up with a way to fight without depending on his enemy’s honor. That was obviously a mistake.
“We have to get the heat back on,” Silver declared. “The ponies downstairs can’t have long. We can break into the core, and—”
Magpie shoved up against his mouth with her leg, forcing it closed. He glared down at her, but didn’t fight. She might be made of rock, but she seemed strong regardless. “That’s a stupid plan, Silver. Even if we could make it to the core—the best protected part of Moonrise—what happens the instant we leave? They shut the heat off again, and it’s all for nothing. That’s assuming it even can be turned on. This whole buckin’ city is falling apart, I guess it will take engineers to fix.”
Silver’s ears fell flat, his tail hanging limply behind him. He nodded bleakly. “That’s… you’re right. So what do we do? Not nothing.” He reached sideways, removing the hard shell attached to his armor and opening it. The plastic dropped, revealing the Alicorn gun inside. He held it up, brushing away the dust with his magic. “Even if I kill Rockshanks, his soldiers wouldn’t obey me. They don’t care about our laws, throwing me in here after I won.”
“They made excuses,” Magpie muttered. “I overheard… lots of cheating. They think your teleport was getting Flint near someone else who did the actual killing. Otherwise you would’ve blasted her with that magic in front of everyone.”
They might be right, technically. “I don’t know what to do, Magpie. I could… break something the city really needs, but what good does that do? Kill people complicit with evil, maybe. But revenge won’t save the ponies down in the cold.”
She settled down beside him in the dark, silent and still. For a few minutes Silver could hear nothing at all, other than the hissing of a metal vent overhead. Even in their prison, the ponies up here have heat. How little do they share with the rest of us?
“I’m out of ideas,” he said, rising again. He levitated the Alicorn magazine into place—though maybe that was the wrong name. Not even the Alicorns had made this gun. It clicked, a satisfyingly final sound. “Killing Rockshanks doesn’t do me any good. There’s only one creature that can help now.”
He turned, looking suddenly grim. “Magpie, how well do you know this place?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been robbing it for a few months, so I got to know it pretty well. Nowhere too secure. Staying to the places ponies ignore is how you don’t get caught, even when you can shadowstep.”
“Do you know any other ways to the surface?” he asked. “Forget the core, we’re going to the Lunar Palace.”