//------------------------------//
// Interlude I 
// Story: Fallen-Song 
// by Chicago Ted 
//------------------------------//

“To wit,” the changeling started, “I begat
A life of taking love. Upon a flat
Steppe, I was cast away – or rather, ‘freed’
Fro’ th’ hive. I still had my shifting format;

I would become whatever they would need,
Whichever would allow me to succeed:
Physician, royal guard, e’en their best bloke –
It matter’d not – and soon enough they’d bleed

Their love to me.” And all the while she spoke,
She shifted form to show to them. No joke,
She truly could be any these. No flaw
To their looks or their sounds, nor did she cloak

The same to them. “Was it against the law?
The rest of me was, so why bother? – Pshaw!
It made no difference for me anyhow;
I had to keep the charade up. Voilà,

At some point I could not avoid, I’d sow
That fate I mention’d earlier. And now
I’m left awonder if you came upon
My petrified remains. I know somehow

That statue still is i’ th’ fen, never gone
Away. And after such a long aeon,
My sanity must have eroded to nought.
Why, you two must be fragments of the con

That’d play within my mind! But if you’re not,
And if you truly can pull me from rot,
Then pay some closer attention to me.”
Then Luna shook her head. She said, “I thought

You’d justify your actions to both we.
I’ve heard nought of that, so what shall it be?
Will you come home with us, or stay right here?
I know you’ll choose your next words carefully,

For you know th’ consequences – are they clear?”
A bead of sweat ran down her head, of fear –
The fear that she may not convince the two
Of innocence hers. She would have t’ adhere

To just her testimony. She’d see through
Her lies, should she try – her options were few.
There truly was but one way to escape.
Her choice had been made – she’d have to stay true

To her intent. She once again chang’d shape
T’ resemble th’ mage. His mouth was left agape,
To see her once again, amid the sand
To boot. “You really are her.” Then her drape

Would fall, as she would shift again back – and
Then she spoke, “I realize now, in this land,
That what I’ve done to you and all was wrong.
I should seek me forgiveness – here I stand

Before you both – yet it has been so long,
I know not if I’ve earn’d my peace. Along
The way in my stay here, I have suffer’d
Starvation great, and horrors by the throng,

I’m sure by now that all that has color’d
My view of your Equestria. As your third,
If you’ll have me as such, I vow to lead
To our salvation. I realize my word

Is well devoid of meaning, but I need
Release as much as you both do. I plead,
I beg, let me join you!” The baker glanst
To Luna, who roll’d her eyes. “If you’re freed

From this place, how do we know if we’ve chanst
A mighty risk? That further is enhanst,
O Sark’e, the less trust we both can place.”
“Besides,” he said, “how know we how advanst

Your statue’s erosion is? In a space
So wet year-round, the water would displace
Your features, bit by bit, ’til nought remains.
By now, there may not even be a trace!”

The changeling’s heart sank, as this thought pertains
T’ a fate that she would not consider – O the rains
Of cruel destruction! She put a hol’d hoof
Up to her ear – ’twas still intact, no pains

Of that erosion she could feel. Aloof
She still was, for she could provide no proof
That she indeed was trustworthy. She sigh’d
And glanc’d to Luna, “I’ll no longer spoof

My look, nor would I my words. If I’d lied,
Then leave me here – ’twould be as though I died,
Adrift in sandy heat. But stay a while,
For a bit of guidance I could provide:

For whilst the curses o’ th’ land may be vile,
It too provides some safety with a smile.
Unlike old I, if you are pure of heart,
Then you perhaps would not need fear the pile

To fall on you, nor to dry out. No chart
Could guide you on your way, but if you’re smart,
You’ll need none anyway.” “I do suppose
What you say rings true,” Luna said. “Impart

A little more, if you could.” If she chose
This route of her redemption, then who knows?
She could return t’ Equestria with them both!
She smil’d – with truer gratitude. “The throes

Of this land may be too much for you,” quoth
The changeling. “Let this truly be my oath:
If you bring me, I’ll see you safe and sound,
And I will be nought but the honest troth,

Both in my words, and in my form.” “I’ve found
That those who vow the most are well-renown’d
To show forsooth the least,” said Luna. “What
Can you present as token of newfound

Friendship?” As though on cue, the changeling shut
Her mouth, and twitcht her limbs. They’d shift and jut
In each and ev’ry way, until they came
To rest. And in a cloud of fire and soot,

The changeling shifted. “What!” she would exclaim.
“Celestia?” Sark’e certainly became
Her sister, somehow. She stood with a blank
Look on her face; still also was her frame.

The baker wav’d his hoof. “Is this a prank?”
“I think not,” Luna said – for her heart sank:
The changeling could not hear her, not at all;
Some unseen force had taken o’er her rank.

The lunar-princess wonder’d, in that hall,
Had she found her asleep? Would she recall
Her back to Canterlot? Honeycomb, too –
Is passage his assur’d, or is his fall

For good? So many questions, answers few!
She askt the obvious “What do we do?”
Then “Can you hear me, sister? Are you there?”
No answers came – she hadn’t had a clue

Why this was so. Why would she n’ at all care
When her dear sister stood here? Knew she where
She was? Around herself could she not see?
Forsooth, of what concerns was she aware?

With gentle care did Luna tap her knee –
She did not flinch, nor e’en acknowledge she.
And then, she saw her mane drift in the breeze.
Shall she respond soon? What would her words be?

As though in stone, with no amount of ease,
Celestia cran’d her neck down to her sister. “Please,
Say something to me,” Luna pleaded. “Why
Do you insist on such charades like these?”

A golden light descended from the sky
T’ illuminate her from behind. Nearby
The dust began to stir into a storm.
“O Princess Mine,” the baker said, “don’t die!”

’Twas all that Luna heard before the swarm
Divided them. “What sorcery perform
You?” she demanded. She got not a word
From her yet. Truly this was not the norm

For sister dear. Her vision grew more blurr’d
With ev’ry passing moment. This storm stirr’d
Her mane and fur into a ghastly mat.
Was this Celestia’s doing? How absurd,

The thought! Why should she cause this ruckus, at
A time and place like this? These thoughts begat
Her leaving through the storm, away from this
Mess. “Let me know when you rescind!” she spat.

Celestia spoke then. “Sister, how I miss
You.” Luna spun around – she’d be remiss
If she did not hear that right. “What’d you say?”
She askt. “Come closer, sister mine” – a hiss

I’ th’ howling wind, but still as clear as day.
Thus, Luna did return to her, without delay.
“Again!” she said. “I have to hear you speak!”
Celestia paus’d for but a moment. “Pray

That you can hear my words. Beyond that peak
That punctur’s th’ sky like a spear, you will seek
An out from these throes.” “What thing? I beg, more!”
But ’tseem’d that she heard her not. “Be not weak,

My sister dear, for other ponies will wish for
The same thing for themselv’s t’ return. Before
They claim it, you must take it for your own.”
“But what thing must I seek? Tell, I implore!”

Then Luna’s eyes aswam with tears, from blown
Sand and her desperation. “By our throne
And court, why won’t you say another thing?
How soon must I find? Will I be alone

On this task? Sister, let me hear you sing
About my quest ahead! I’ll eas’ly bring
Whatever ’tis you say that I will need!
Celestia told her then, “Cease your asking,

I realize you have much you want to heed,
But you have ought to mind your knowledge-greed.
I have but little in the way of time,
So ev’ry moment matters much.” “Agreed!”

And Luna spoke no more. “That coming climb
Shall be most difficult for you, in clime
That neither of us know before, but still
You must proceed, if you’re to see the prime

Of our land once again. Your magic skill
Can help to seek it out, but you must spill
No blood in this your quest, for that blood ties
You to this realm beyond my reach. You will

Succeed, that much I know, but by the skies
Above us all, I must warn you – realize
That you may meet those doom’d to such bleak view,
And who may try to slay you. Be more wise,

And spare them all, no matter what they do.
You may find others t’ help you see this through –
Allow this t’ happen, but do not attach
Yourself to them, for they are bound there too.

You’re little-known amid there. Should they catch
Your sight with that key with you, they may snatch
It out of your hoov’s. Do not let that pass,
But do not even let a single scratch

Befall them.” It sounds difficult, alas,
Thought Luna. If this be our only impasse,
Then ’tis one I’ll accept, if I t’ return
Back home. What o’ th’ baker? Could I amass

Enough to bring him ’long? How would I earn
That much, in any case? O how I yearn
For answers, yet I must hear sister talk
At length, if I were well to hear and learn

What information she’s, so I don’t balk
A vital thing. This storm does well to block
Out both the bright sun and my counterpart.
Celestia did continue, “On your walk

To where you ought to go, be mindful – heart
Can only get you so far. Sans a chart
From me or any else to point your way,
You’ll need to use your wiles, wits, to outsmart

The ones you meet, who may lead you astray
From your goal. Let their trickery not sway
Your judgment, lest they claim your fancied goal
Before you do.” Of course! she thought. I’d pay

Too much of my mind to them on our stroll
Amid this land. But what knew they? The sole
Task at hoof is to break free from this waste,
E’en if it means I’d leave the rest i’ th’s hole.

Had she spoke well enough? We must make haste
If we are to succeed. “In rapid-pac’d
Steps, you may win, but heed what I have said,
Lest you shall lose, and thus remain here, fac’d

With horrors not known to me in my head,
And all this effort worth not e’en a shred
To reach you. Fare you well, my sister dear,
And greater fortune on the road ahead.”

The sandstorm dissipated, going clear
Before her eyes. And too, her sister dear
Became as stony-stiff as was before.
“O there you are!” Honeycomb said. “How near

Are we to our goal?” “Getting there’s a chore,”
Said Luna, “but we’ll persevere e’er more.
That mountain top there, th’ one that we have seen?
That’s where our goal at hoof now lies.” “I implore,”

He askt, “how are you sure of that?” “I mean
By that, Celestia told me in between
The storm that what we seek lies on the peak
Of yonder mountain.” “If you reconvene,

You must ask her why we have got to seek
At that location.” “That I shall,” she’d speak.
Another moment later, Sark’e’s form
Began to shift again. The changeling, weak

From magic very well outside her norm,
Spat out some dust. “Why, it feels like a storm
Of sand had gather’d up i’ th’ air, whilst I
Was trapt within a trance.” “I must inform

You,” Luna said, “that, in those moments, my
Dear sister may have taken control.” “Why?
And how?” “I do regret, I know not how,
But I do know, in between my reply,

That we pursue a tangible goal now.”
“And I can tag along; would she allow?”
Said Luna, “That remains to be seen. Well,
I’ll have to mull o’er your words, per my vow.”

The changeling took a step, but quite soon fell
Into the sand. “I’m stiff! I cannot tell
How this is so.” “I could attempt a guess,”
She said. “Perhaps this is where you will dwell

For all eternity to come – unless
It’d prove otherwise, e’en if you confess
T’ your troubles, you may not at all redeem
Yourself.” And then the changeling sigh’d. “O yes,

I understand that all too well. It’d seem
You never were here t’ help. I could not gleam
Th’ intent from either of your minds at all –
So say no more, and leave me here. Your team

Is two, but never three; you hear the call
Upon the mountain top. May throes befall
You not, and all on me. I shall remain
Upon my hill, and stand against the squall

Of sandy wind alone.” Wi’ a grunt of pain,
She turn’d herself into a boulder plain.
The baker sigh’d. “I wonder how we could
Have helped her.” “Perhaps we should abstain

From vowing t’ others,” Luna said. “We should
Be focusing upon ourselv’s. ’Tis good
That you look out for others, but you must
Save first yourself, Honeycomb – understood?”

“O Princess Mine,” he said, “I wish I’d trust
Your logic, truly I do – ” “You’re biast
Once more,” she said. “You ought to set aside
Your charity.” And from his throat, a gust

Of both regret and relief. “As your guide,
And while the path we lead is paved wide,
We shall make our way up that mountain top
And claim ourselv’s our well-earn’d prize. Our stride

Shall be long, rapid, and shall never stop
Until – ” “Enough, I say,” said Luna. “Drop
Your theatrics; a simple ‘yes’ shall do.”
The baker nodded. “Yes!” A single hop

To come out from the sinking sand, and th’ two
Are on their way once more. Th’ uncharted view
That stretcht before them beckon’d both of them
Along their way. The sky adorn’d a hue

Of gold, an odd phenomenon that’d stem
From unknown source. O, what a gem
The light was! The journey’d be lit so bright,
But getting there would take some stratagem.