//------------------------------// // Chapter Eight: Paper Roses // Story: A Sheet in the Wind (Iota Force Issue #5) // by The Iguana Man //------------------------------// “I see,” Colonel Steward said once Iota Force had finished recounting their final encounter with the Paper Prince. “I take it you had little further trouble after that.” “No trouble at all, I'd say,” Truffle assured him, lounging back on his chair. “Just had to finish mopping up the rest of his paper pals.” Alula nodded from the back of the briefing room. “They were already thinning out when he lost consciousness and, without him either taking control or creating reinforcements, they were neutralized well within expectations.” “Speak for yourself. I was hoping to take 'em all out before the guard broke through his walls.” Scootaloo was still smirking, but there was a slight touch of annoyance in her tone. Of course, that could have been because the Colonel had insisted she take her back hooves down from the table – a command it seemed he was used to giving. Alula nodded. “They were neutralized well within reasonable expectations,” She amended. Icy started to raise a hoof before remembering that she had been told she didn't need to – this wasn't a class, it was a debriefing, so she was expected to contribute freely, provided she didn't interrupt anyone without good reason. Still, the official air to the room meant it was hard to clamp down the impulse to request permission to speak. However, she did wait a second to make sure she wouldn't cut anyone off before she asked: “So, what happens now?” “In terms of us, very little. The threat appears to be over, though we will warn all guards to be alert for any ponies made of paper they may see,” The Colonel replied, not even raising an eyebrow at what he just said. “Of course, his various targets are bound to raise a stink about what happened, but that's nothing new – we're used to dealing with that sort of thing.” Icy nodded, even though that wasn't really what she was asking about. “Okay, that's good. And what about the Paper Prince?” “He's being looked over by the medical staff,” The Colonel assured her. “They haven't found any permanent damage from his magical exhaustion, but they want to make absolutely sure.” “There wouldn't be any,” Alula stated matter-of-factly. “Given the circumstances, he couldn't have sustained any permanent damage.” “How come?” Dinky asked, having remained mostly silent throughout the debriefing. “For the same reason its impossible to die of physical exhaustion,” Alula explained. “The body shuts down and goes unconscious long before that could begin to happen. Similarly, because his expression of his magic requires physical effort, he would become incapable of physical movement and, as we saw, unconscious before his aetheric reserves were drained to the point of damage. If his talent simply required him to expend magic, there might have been some danger, but as it is, there was none.” Dinky thought for a moment before asking. “But what about when he animates his origami?” Alula turned to Dinky, tilting her head slightly. “What about it?” “Well, he needs to move to make his constructs, but from what we saw, he only needs to put a bit of energy into them to make them come alive. That's just a magical thing, so he could have gotten hurt by it if he'd already made them and just needed to give them the spark, right?” Alula thought for a few seconds. “I suppose so. That... that is an extremely unlikely possibility, but I suppose there was some theoretical danger to him. I, um...” Dinky smiled. “It's okay, I know you didn't see it and it was pretty unlikely. Still, I think you should keep in mind how ponies can get hurt, even if you don't mean them too.” Icy's respect for the Colonel went up several notches as she noticed that, throughout the exchange, he had maintained a perfectly straight face, giving neither a smile nor a sigh nor any indication which he was more inclined towards, if either. “Well, whatever the case, once he's cleared by the medical staff, he'll be tried, processed and imprisoned,” he finished. “Sent to the Eyrie, no doubt,” Truffle added. “I would imagine so,” the Colonel agreed. Icy pursed her lips. “The Eerie?” she asked, trying to think if she'd heard of it before. “The Equestrian Reformatory for Extraordianary Young Inmates. Colloquially known as the Eyrie,” Alula explained. “But...” Icy ran the words through her head quickly. “That'd be EREYI, not Eerie. And what's eerie about it?” Alula sighed. “It's not an acronym, it just got that name because someone noticed it had all the letters and because of its positioning – it's built into the side of Mount Canter, high up because the citizens of Canterlot didn't want its inmates in or near the city itself. And it's not eerie, it's eyrie – E-Y-R-I-E, it's the name of an eagle's nest.” “Oh! So it's like an anagram acronym. An acronynagram! Okay!” Icy nodded, about to move on when a thought occurred to her. “So, how many times have you had to explain that to ponies like me who didn't know about that?” “Far too many,” Alula said simply. Icy swallowed awkwardly. “Sorry.” “In any case,” Truffle interjected, “that's where we send all the ponies and other beings too powerful for a normal prison.” Icy thought for a moment. “Isn't that what Tartarus is for?” “Of course not!” Dinky looked shocked at the suggestion. “Tartarus is only for the really powerful and really, really bad people. We wouldn't send him to Tartarus – he was just trying to prove himself to the world.” The Colonel raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure the bank will be gratified to know that the damage done was in the name of such a worthy cause.” Dinky shuffled in her seat, looking abashed. “I didn't mean that what he did wasn't wrong or bad – it was, it definitely was. Just that, well, I don't think he was bad enough to go to Tartarus.” Truffle nodded. “The Eyrie's for those who aren't evil or dangerous enough to be sent to Tartarus, but still need more than just an ordinary prison.” “Just the colts and fillies,” Scootaloo added. “Grownups get sent to the Hollow, lower down.” “Oh, okay.” Icy was beginning to understand now. “So, it's like an ultra-high security kinda thing?” “Sort of,” Alula said. “It might be more accurate to say the security is more careful and adaptable than higher. It's designed to be able to tailor its security to each individual inmate. For example, the Prince will need to be prevented from acquiring paper and supervised when he is provided any. He needs to be able to exercise his talent somewhat to prevent psychological damage, plus it helps with rehabilitation, but his practice of it and access to the materials needs to be tightly regulated. That's not the kind of thing that's a consideration for most prisoners.” “Don't worry, it's not a horrible place,” Dinky assured her. “It's really good at helping ponies change and get over their problems – most ponies who go there come out reformed.” “Quite, but that's all in the future,” The Colonel said as he got up from his chair. “I trust you'll write up a full report, Miss Erroria?” “Of course,” Alula replied. “Good.” The Colonel gave a firm nod to the group. “Very well done, everypony. Dismissed.” And with that, he turned and walked out of the briefing room. The assembled colts and fillies were just getting up to leave too when a thought occurred to Icy. “Hey, Scootaloo, you said the adult version of the Eyrie was the Hollow?” “Mm-hm!” Scootaloo replied. “So, is that the... House Of... Lawbreakers... Lacking Other... Wards?” she asked. “Nope. It's just called that cause it's in a hollow down the mountain,” Scootaloo informed her cheerfully. “Oh.” Icy blinked a little. “That's... kinda disappointing.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Sometimes simple is best.” It had been couple of hours since the team's debriefing and Icy and Dinky were just packing up their things to return to Ponyville. Well, it would be more accurate to say that they were both packing up Icy's things, since Dinky had packed extremely light while coming and the only other things she had to pack up were the three different gifts she'd bought for Pip. She insisted this was simply because he didn't get to come with, so she wanted to make him feel a little better about that, but Icy couldn't help but notice a lack of any gifts for Archer. That said, Icy wasn't sure when and how Dinky had found the time to go gift-shopping in the first place. Of course, this was Dinky, so doing odd things with time was to be expected. Icy, on the other hand, had quite a volume of things to pack up. Or, perhaps, a volume of one thing – comics. Whether they should be considered lots of different things or one conceptual mass was something Icy had put aside to puzzle over later. That said, it might not have taken nearly so long if Icy didn't insist on packing the issues in chronological order, despite having been quite unconcerned with keeping such an order when she'd finished reading them. Fortunately, Dinky was more than happy to lend a horn and the clear numbering on each issue meant she could contribute fairly easily. Of course, there were one or two snags. “So, hold on, if this is a crossover between Batmare and Captain Equestria, does it go on the Marevel side or the AC side? And where does it fit in whatever series it goes in?” “Captain Equestria, between two-two-three and two-two-four,” Icy replied without looking up. “It was written and drawn by the ponies doing Cap at the time, so I count it as part of that.” “Oh, okay.” Dinky placed the comic in the appropriate position before turning to Icy. “But, that can't always be the case for crossovers, can it?” Icy looked up with a smile and a shrug. “Nah, I usually have to kind of wing it with where they're placed – sometimes it's about who's writing or drawing it and how much control it seems like they had, sometimes it's more about how much it draws from each character and how much impact it had on them, sometimes it's just based on who I thought was more awesome during it.” “I find that's often the best way to categorize things,” Sunny's voice said from behind the pair. Icy jumped, fur standing on end a little before whirling around. “Mom! You're supposed to knock on somepony's door before you come in!” Sunny looked back at the door, looking slightly embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Though, in my defense, it's not technically your door. Anyway, Ten Ton called – he said you beat the bad guy finally.” Icy noted the change of subject, but let it slide. “Uh huh! I'll tell you all about it later – we're just packing up to go home.” “Let's not be too hasty,” Sunny said with a smile. “After all, you did want to see the city when you had the chance and now you do. Have the chance, that is – it's Friday, so you don't have to be back for school for a few days, so why don't we go out and see the sights? I've got a rough itinerary... a rough idea of where to go in mind, but we can work out the details as we go. What do you say?” Icy thought for a moment. It was true that she had been looking forward to truly taking in the capital city when she first came, but... “Thanks, Mom, but I think I'm okay.” Sunny's smile dropped off her face, leaving confusion in its wake. “Huh? I thought you wanted to look around, is anything wrong?” Icy rocked her head from side to side slowly. “Not really, it's just... after everything that's happened, I guess I just don't feel up to it. Like I'd be able to really enjoy it, you know?” Sunny tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “Well, if you wanted to spend the day resting, we could always head out tomorrow and...” Icy shook her head. “No, I... I really appreciate it, Mom, but it's not just being tired. Like, not in my body, I just... we've been working at this for days – fighting him, trying to predict him, tracking him down, even waiting for him was a bit tiring. I guess I just feel a little... empty, I guess?” She followed her explanation with a slightly helpless look, getting across how much trouble she was having putting her feelings into words and how bad a job she knew she might be doing getting them across. Sunny's shoulders sagged, though a ghost of a smile remained on her face. “Well, I guess I can understand that, but it is disappointing. Perhaps another time.” “Well, I'm going to come back here in about a week, probably,” Dinky piped up, looking up from the comics she was sorting. “I wasn't planning on staying very long, but if you wanted you could come with and we could do some stuff.” Icy shook her head. “Thanks, Dinky, but that's okay. Maybe another time. Right now, I just wanna lie down in my room or a train car or just... somewhere comfortable and just do nothing for a while. I do wanna see Canterlot, I just don't wanna really go anywhere.” Sunny nodded slowly before her face suddenly lit up. “That's it! I have the perfect solution – wait right here.” She dashed out of the room, leaving Icy simply staring, befuddled, at the door. “O...kay, I guess?” After a moment more, she shrugged and returned to sorting her comics. She and Dinky had finally managed to get them all in order and squeeze them into her suitcase when a knock came from the door. “Come in, Mom,” Icy called. “Didn't know I was your Mom,” Corporal Ton said as he opened the door. “Guess I need to learn more about my family tree. And my biology.” Icy's head shot up. “Oh! Corporal Ton, I'm sorry, I...” Corporal Ton waved off her apology with a hoof. “Don't worry, Icy, it's fine – your Mom asked me to fetch you – she's waiting in the ops room.” Icy frowned slightly, trying to figure out what her mother could want there, before shrugging and pulling on her suitcase. The massive thing moved about a quarter of an inch. “Um, I might be a while,” Icy said with an apologetic smile. Rolling his eyes and smirking a little, Corporal Ton strolled over and slung the suitcase over his back, not even seeming to struggle with the weight. He trotted off through the door, leaving Icy to scramble to catch up to him. When the two arrived in the Operations Room, Icy was surprised to see that her mother was now in thick clothing and wearing a massive backpack covered in fur, with a big bundle of wood tied to it. “Er, Mom?” Icy asked, waiting until Sunny turned around before continuing. “Are you... going somewhere again?” Sunny smirked at her daughter. “We are. See, if I'm understanding this right, you want to be able to see Canterlot, but you also just want to, what's the phrase... “veg out” for a while?” Icy winced a little at her mother trying to use modern slang, but nodded. “I guess so.” “Excellent, then I've got just the place! Mach, would you mind?” As the nearby Lieutenant's horn started to glow, Icy turned to her mother. “You know Mister... er, Lieutenant Gate?” “Oh, yeah, we go way back.” Sunny gave the Lieutenant a smile. “I mean, this isn't strictly speaking within the rules, but as long as Bridge doesn't find out, we should be good.” Icy didn't have time to question things further before she found herself teleported. After a couple of seconds of white nothingness, she found herself standing on snow. Looking around, she saw the side of a mountain – she presumed Mount Canter, but she hadn't spent a lot of time memorizing every rock face on it, so she couldn't be sure – before she turned around and saw her mother walking towards what appeared to be a cliff. She hurried after her, about to ask where they were, when her breath was taken away. Below the snowy ridge the two stood on, Canterlot spread out before them. From their vantage point, they could see across the whole city, Every tall spire and medium-sized building and even many of the streets were visible from up on the cliff. “Roc's Ridge,” Sunny said as she began laying out a pair of thick, very comfortable looking sleeping bags. “Great view of the city, a good temperature for you and a tolerable one for me and, I think, a great place for a day of rest and a night of camping. What do you say?” In fact, Icy didn't have anything to say, but her powerful hug and rapid nodding got the message across despite this. So, as Sunny began building a fire and Icy began setting up the telescope Sunny had borrowed for a sort of at-a-distance-tour of Canterlot, Icy smiled. After all the various things she'd seen up close over the past few days, this was the perfect way to wind down and round off her first trip to Canterlot. One Week Later Dinky Doo trotted down the corridor, humming quietly to herself. She wasn't nervous – she'd been to the Eyrie several times before and she knew the guards well, including the one escorting her at that moment, Miss Air Lock. Still, the quietness of the corridor and the way their hoofsteps echoed back to them was always a touch off-putting. Still, they reached the door at the end soon enough, where another pair of guards were waiting. One's horn lit up as he swept a powerful scanning spell over Dinky. She had already been scanned when she entered the building, but the entire purpose of the facility was not to take chances. For the same reason, the scanning spell swept over Miss Lock next, just in case. The two coming up as clean, the other guard opened the door, revealing a long table in front of a series of thick glass windows. In front of each was a stool – tall enough for an adult, but with a step so a child could climb onto it. On the other side of each window was another stool, though they were all child-sized. Next to each window was a curious apparatus designed to allow both sides to talk with each other – a small speaker attached to a sound pickup by a thin, curved rod, with a wire attached to the latter connecting it to the wall. The whole room was clean and a little sterile, but clearly well-maintained. Miss Lock gave Dinky a nod and took up her post by the door, waiting for when Dinky had finished with her business. Smiling in thanks, Dinky walked up to one of the booths, taking a seat on the stool. Once she sat down, she caught the eye of one of the guards in the room beyond the glass. The guard nodded and opened the door next to him, revealing a young colt with the green coat and the folded unicorn Cutie Mark of the Paper Prince. He was no longer wearing his suit and mask, so his grey-black mane and dark blue eyes were on full display. He walked up to the booth, a carefully neutral expression on his face, and sat down. When Dinky pulled the communicator off the wall, he did the same before curtly asking, “Whadda you want?” Dinky gulped at his tone before responding, “Well, first, I wanted to see how you were doing.” The Prince snorted, a sneer coming onto his face. “Oh, I'm doing fine – just fan-fricking-tastic. I mean, I'm only sitting here, in prison, with no way out and one of the ponies who put me here asking me stupid questions. I've never been better!” Dinky winced, clearly pained by his words, but didn't back away. “Well, I mean, it's not...” “Yeah, yeah, it's not the worst place in the world,” the Prince interrupted her. “It's comfortable, it's got plenty to do, all that crap. Doesn't change the fact that it's still a prison. Now get to the point – why are you here?” Dinky gulped. “Well, I just wanted to say...” “No, no, wait, lemme guess!” The Prince cut her off again, a mocking smile coming onto his face. “You wanted to say that you're sorry. That you're sorry that I'm here, that I got beat, that I'm not like you,” He scoffed, looking as if he was having to restrain himself from spitting on the glass. “Well, if that's what you're here to say, then you can just screw right off! Maybe I am up a creek right now, maybe you did beat me, but it don't matter – I don't need your pity! You got that?!” He was almost shouting now, the guard behind him looking ready to step in if things got too noisy. He started taking the apparatus away from his ear, read to slam it down, when Dinky spoke up. “You wanna know something funny?” she asked, looking uneasy. The Prince stopped, looking at her suspiciously. “What?” Dinky gulped. “I... I really didn't pity you before but, well... I kinda do now.” She grimaced, clearly not relishing that fact. “I do feel a teeny bit sorry for you if you really can't tell the difference between pity and sympathy.” The Prince stopped, a little shocked at this statement. “What in the... what are you talking about?” Dinky sighed. “Well, pity's for when you think somepony's... when they're lower than you,” she said, as if the concept of thinking that was alien to her. “When they're worse than you, when you think you're better than them, when... when you're looking down on them. I don't feel that with you as a pony, but I do think that not knowing the difference is... well, it's not a good thing. But sympathy... sympathy is for when you, well...” She paused for a moment, trying to come up with the words. “It's not just for when you feel sorry that something bad's happened or someone's done something wrong. That is part of it, but it's more for when you want to help them because... because you understand. You know what it's like or you can imagine it or... or you just want to help them because you think they're worth helping.” Throughout Dinky's little speech, the Prince's face had gradually fallen into a more straight expression – clearly skeptical, but also clearly listening. “Alright, so you “understand” me, do you? You know about me? So tell me, little unicorn,” he leaned forward, a tiny smirk coming onto his face, “what's my name?” “Loose Leaf,” Dinky answered without a moment's hesitation. The Prince flinched back as if physically struck. “What... How did... Oh, lemme guess, you asked the guards and...” “No,” Dinky interrupted him gently. “I found out on my own.” The Prince raised an eyebrow. “How?” “Well, I knew you came from a family business that made paper,” Dinky explained. “That's why you were able to use all the stuff in the paper mill.” The Prince rolled his eyes. “Wow, what a brilliant deduction, my jaw is on the floor. There are loads of paper makers in Equestria, that won't tell you nothing!” “But most of them aren't unicorn families,” Dinky said, causing the Prince's jaw to actually hang open for a second. “It's usually an Earth Pony business.” “How did you...” the Prince began before shaking his head, getting rid of his surprised expression. Dinky shrugged. “The way you always talked about unicorns. The special kind of dislike you had for them.” She rubbed at her horn self-consciously. “It was... kind of obvious you had some bad history with them.” “Yeah, yeah, I get that, but...” the Prince paused, thinking for a moment, “but that could mean anything – coulda been other kids, other grown-ups, how did you know it was my family?” “Well, it was how you... didn't like them,” Dinky explained, dancing around the word hate as if she feared to touch it with her thoughts. “It wasn't just that they were bad, it was that they thought they could do anything they wanted, that they thought their magic was all they needed to win, to have power over you. You didn't just... dislike them as a race, you disliked them as an authority. That meant either teachers or parents, and since you're old enough that you've probably had a few teachers that weren't unicorns, well...” she trailed off, giving a slightly helpless looking shrug. The Prince stared at her for a few seconds, trying to reconcile the detailed analysis he'd just heard with the harmless-looking filly before him. After a moment, he chuckled. “Alright, I'm a little impressed. Congratulations.” Dinky winced. “Well, that wasn't what I... I just wanted to show that... I get it.” She looked the Prince dead on, eyes resolute. “They didn't think your talent was worth anything, did they? They thought it was only good for silly little craft projects, that it was useless, that... they thought you were useless, didn't they?” The Prince kept eye contact for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to quiver slightly. “You... I...” He wrenched his head to the side, as if escaping some sort of restraint, and squeezed his eyes shut. “You don't know what it's like! To get looked at like you're just an idiot, like you'll never... you never could be anything, like you're some kinda toy! To be told that, if you can't do the things they want you to... if you can't be who they want you to be, that... that you're nothing.” “You're right,” Dinky said quietly. “I don't know what that's like for certain. My mommy's always been nice to me. But... but I can imagine it.” She gave a slightly sad smile, even though the Prince wasn't looking at her face. “I kinda wish I couldn't, but I can.” She paused before adding. “I asked if your family had come here or sent a message or... if they'd done anything to contact you. They didn't, but the Guard did contact their company to let them know what had happened to you.” The Prince glanced up. “And what did they say?” Dinky closed her eyes, a slight moistness coming over them. “That the Guard needed to make an appointment or send a letter.” The Prince's eyes were also misting up slightly. “Figures.” Dinky nodded. “Yeah. That's... that's really horrible. But... but just because they don't care, that...” she cleared her throat and caught his eye again, holding his gaze intensely and putting every ounce of her considerable sincerity into her next words, “that doesn't mean you're alone. You're not!” “What do you mean?” the Prince turned his head slightly, though he didn't break eye contact. “I mean that I'm here for you. I want to help you. And, I know it may not feel like it, but so do the ponies here. They do need to keep you here, but they also want to help you get past this whole... all this stuff. They want to help you find a way to live with other ponies and live as yourself without fighting, without needing to commit crimes or attack ponies. They want you to find a way to use your talent without hurting anypony.” At that last point, the Prince raised an eyebrow. “And you were doing so well.” A ghost of a smile finally worked its way onto his face. “See, I may not have been what you'd call a law-abiding citizen recently, but I haven't hurt anypony – least, not in any way they couldn't afford. I'm not a monster, I made damn sure no one'd get hurt. Unless you're really trying to tell me that unicorn couple with the gold chariot really couldn't bear having a little cut on their horns or couldn't afford to lose a few bits. I chose 'em cause I knew they could – they didn't get hurt.” Dinky sighed. “And the Pegasi pulling the chariot?” The Prince rolled his eyes. “Oh, so they lost a few tail hairs, what a tragedy!” Dinky nodded. “Mm-hm, a few tail hairs... and their jobs.” The smile dropped off the Prince's face like a lead weight. “What?” “They lost their jobs. The couple were angry they weren't able to stop you...” “That wasn't their fault!” the Prince said, shocked at the thought. “They couldn't do anything about...” “I know, but I guess their bosses didn't see it like that,” Dinky interjected. “One of them's found another job – it doesn't pay nearly as well, so his family are gonna have to tighten their belts, but they should be okay. The other one... well, he'll probably find another. I hope so, at least.” The Prince frowned, his eyes hardening. “Well, you can't blame me for that – those two little.... they're being unreasonable!” “Yeah. Yeah, they really are. But, well, you did still cause them to start thinking like that. Also, please tell me the truth here: after what you learned about those nobles, would you have expected them to be reasonable about this?” The Prince's silence told her all she needed to know. Dinky gave another sigh before her face lightened up slightly. “Of course, it wasn't that bad for all your victims – the stallions pulling the armoured cart still have their jobs.” The Prince sighed. “Well, I guess that's...” “They just had their pay cut.” “But... but they weren't responsible for...” the Prince trailed off. “Oh, no, their company didn't do it cause they were angry at them,” Dinky assured him. “Everyone at the company's getting a smaller salary. Armoured carts are pretty expensive and they've got to get the money for repairs or a new one somewhere.” The Prince growled. “Look, I don't know what you're... Maybe I... It's not just my fault all that happened – you gotta admit, the ponies employing them were being hauncholes too.” Dinky nodded. “Yeah, what they did was wrong, but that doesn't mean what you did wasn't. Plus, it wasn't all somepony else's fault. At the bank-” “Oh, come on!” the Prince interrupted her, throwing his hooves up. “They helped you beat me, the bank couldn't have punished them!” “Oh, no, they didn't – they've all still got their jobs and are getting paid as much as before.” Dinky smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Heavy Duty's even getting paid while he's on leave.” “On leave? Why-?” The Prince cut himself off, suspecting he wouldn't like the answer. “Who's Heavy Duty?” he asked, hoping but not expecting that answer to be slightly less damning. “He was the Earth Pony on the other side of the wall you broke down,” Dinky explained before thinking for a moment. “Though, I mean, I guess if somepony was gonna be, it's a good thing it was him, he's tough. He only got three cracked ribs and a broken leg.” The Prince's jaw worked silently for a few moments, trying to come up with any kind of justification but clearly failing. Eventually, he screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Okay, so maybe I... what about the train? I know I didn't hurt anyone too bad on the train. There weren't any forces who coulda stopped me, so nopony could be blamed for that, all the ponies I robbed were ones who could afford it and the brakes of that train needed replacing anyway – I know that was okay.” Dinky's mouth pursed and went to the side as she considered this. “Yeah, I guess it was... up till you sent it out of control. After that...” “No one woulda got hurt from that either!” the Prince insisted. Dinky tilted her head slightly. “Did you know that the engineer would have been able to stop it? Even Alula didn't know that. And if you did know it'd be easy to stop it, you wouldn't have done it as a distraction.” The Prince shook his head. “That's not what I meant. I figured there was a good chance you'd figure something out, but even if you didn't, no one woulda gotten hurt. All you needed to do was get the engineer onto the passenger cars and uncouple them from the engine – I know you'd be able to realize that. And if you didn't, the engineer himself would, so everypony'd be safe and the engine could just go on without hurting anypony.” Dinky took a deep breath in, clearly not looking forward to saying her final question. “What about the ponies at the station?” The Prince blinked heavily. “What?” “The Station. If we had decoupled those cars, the engine would have kept going and crashed into the station,” Dinky explained, sounding very hurt by the words she was saying. It wasn't clear whether the pain came from the image she was painting, the fact she was confronting the Prince with the possible consequences of his actions or both. “A lot of damage would have been done and a lot of ponies would have gotten hurt. Maybe even...” She cut herself off, cringing at the prospect. The Prince stared at her blankly, the sheer enormity of what she was saying seeming to have halted his mental processes. Dinky swallowed heavily. “I'm sorry. I know you thought you didn't have any real victims, but... well, I don't know if there are crimes that don't.” The Prince continued to say nothing. After about ten more seconds of silence, his shoulders sagged and he sighed. “I... I guess saying sorry really isn't enough after all that, huh?” Dinky shook her head. “No. No, it's not enough.” A tiny smile poked its way onto her lips. “But it is a start. It's not the only step, but it is the first step.” She put a hoof up against the glass, bringing the Prince's gaze up to her. “It's not gonna be easy – redemption isn't something anypony can just give you, you have to find it and earn it for yourself. But if you're sorry – really sorry – if you accept that what you did was wrong and that it was your fault, if you don't make excuses for it or try to justify it and if you really work to change, then, well... you can. I mean, you can't just say you've changed and that you're better, you have to act like it, you have to be better. I...” She paused, aware that she was rambling a little and working to focus on what she had to say next. “I'm not gonna say that you being here isn't punishment – it kinda is and I think you understand why you do need some. But it's... it's called a reformatory cause that's what it's here for. To help you... to help anypony that comes here to reform. To change their ways, to... to become better. Because they... because you can become better.” The Prince put a hoof against the corner of his eye, pre-emptively wiping away any tear that might escape. “You... you really think that, don't you?” Dinky shook her head. “No. No, I don't think that you... that anypony can change, can reform, can become better.” Her brow furrowed and her face set with an expression of implacable resolution. “I know it!”