//------------------------------// // Chapter 51: Orion // Story: Hour of Twilight // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Jamie drew in gasping, desperate breaths, before finally flopping onto her back. She lay limply in the room of utter blackness. He lied to me. Flurry’s death was in there all along. It was there for the same reason all of Flurry Heart’s memories were in the Well. She was the Well, somehow. Solar Lens appeared in the doorway in a single flash of magic, looking in at her. “Well, Lady Jamie. Did you learn what you were looking for?” She rolled onto her legs, tucking her tail in embarrassment. That little weakness seemed so small compared to everything she had just learned. Human taboos would have to take a backseat to reality. “I think I…” she whimpered. “I don’t understand.” Solar stepped in, raising one hoof over his mouth. Even without hands, the meaning of that gesture was obvious. “The magic of Alicorns is too much for a mere unicorn like me to understand, Duchess. I believe it would be inappropriate for me to answer questions. The mysteries you study are too sacred for me, even as one who has studied her extensively.” He touched her lightly on the shoulder with one hoof, meeting her eyes. “I see you haven’t suffered a dissolution of your ego and a loss of individuality during your time in the Well. It’s true what they say about the endurance of Alicorns. Your minds are stronger than ours.” “Is that even true?” She probably shouldn’t ask questions so bold. But after watching just what Twilight was capable of—murdering her own niece to save Equestria. Her sense of restraint had suffered significant blows. “I never saw myself as particularly strong-willed. You terrified me when you told me that, but… I don’t know how it could happen. Maybe if you watched years of time in someone else’s body, living their life. Not in a week.” Solar raised an eyebrow. “I have never lied to you, Jamie. My words are not infallible as Harmony, but I would never tell you something I didn’t know to be true. There is an entire wing in this building dedicated to caring for those whose minds have been broken by the Well. The princess demands sacrifice from every creature. From some that means a lifetime in the farms, or in the same factory. For us, it means scouring the past for the things the noble and great didn’t even realize they knew. The well does not consume all… but ambition is not a sign of mental fortitude, and only the former is required to end up here.” Mental fortitude. Jamie almost burst out laughing at the name alone. She could imagine what Kari would’ve said at her described that way. But I’m not really an Alicorn. Or a pony for that matter. Ultimately there was no such thing as magic, right? All this, no matter how spectacular, had to be explained somehow. And if I keep telling myself that long enough, maybe it will be true. She nodded weakly, unsure what else to say. “So that’s it? That’s the information I need to fight for Equestria?” She could only keep the skepticism from her voice so well. She’d learned a little about magic, she’d learned how to fly. All useful stuff, but not enough to fight a war. Solar let go of her shoulder, turning back to the entrance hall. “I don’t know. The situation in Concord has changed dramatically since you began. I think… I think the princess actually meant to use your help when this started. When it seemed like she was invincible and the kingdom would stand another thousand years, she could afford to invest resources into you. Now I fear that she only allowed me to finish because she knew there would be words exchanged between the purest of her servants if she didn’t. It does not bode well for you.” “It… w-what?” She followed just behind Solar, her steps nervous and fearful. Why are you telling me? “She won’t let me prove myself?” Solar stopped dead, extending one leg into the air. Something was coming—Jamie felt it just as he did. Somepony storming down the steps, with enough power crackling around them to short-circuit electronics and melt aluminum. Jamie hadn’t just run out of time, the one coming for her was furious. “Survive,” Solar whispered, right into her ear. “As long as you can. Look for any opportunity you can find, and take it.” It wasn’t much, but Jamie didn’t even have a chance to ask what he meant. A few seconds later and Twilight’s hooves appeared down the ramp. Her expression was serene, but the calm didn’t pass her face. Her tail whipped back and forth, her horn buzzed and sparked faintly with energy. She stormed right up to them. But by the time Jamie looked to the side, Solar had straightened, and watched her with composure. It wasn’t confidence, exactly. He bowed low in her presence, lower than usual. “Regent. We were headed to the palace to meet you.” The princess didn’t tell him to rise. She stopped feet away from Jamie, eyes never leaving her. She barely seemed to care that Solar was here. “Is your work complete, Solar? Or were you bringing her to me in failure?” “The labor is finished,” he said, in the same tone he’d always used. It didn’t waver, even as he lied. “Her review of unicorn magic, earth pony strength, and pegasus flight is complete. She’s mastered all eight schools of enchantment, learned every relevant language, and as much about Alicorn magic as I had the skill to show her. But I can’t test her on that, for reasons that are self-evident.” “Good.” Twilight turned to glower at him, as though even that much effort was beneath her. “I gave you the time you were promised. Make sure the families of Concord know that every effort has been put into educating this one. We spared no kindness and no knowledge, understand that?” He nodded, taking a few nervous steps. He didn’t turn his back on her, though he had to squeeze past to one side. He bowed and scraped and then he was past her. “I’ll make sure that information is known by every family that grew too curious.” “But not more,” Twilight added. “I do not wish ponies to grow attached to her. She is an experiment, one that I did not conduct. Make sure that is included as well. We took her in, we didn’t create her. We aren’t responsible for her mistakes.” “It will be known.” He saluted with one hoof, then vanished in a flash of light.  How can you lie to her so easily? More importantly, how did a pony as powerful as Twilight not feel it? Wasn’t she watching their thoughts at every moment? No, stupid. Or she’d know you were human.  Twilight waited until the hallway was silent for several seconds in a row before stepping closer to her. Her horn glowed, and the crystal lights on either end went out. Suddenly it was just the two of them, lit by flickering purple light. “I’ve shown you patience and kindness in my house, Jamie. Now it’s time for you to repay that kindness.” The glow became a searing spotlight, shining directly in Jamie’s eyes. By the time she lifted her hoof to shield herself, the teleport had already faded. They were back in Jamie’s quarters, with the monument only feet away. The strange marks glittered in the light from Twilight’s horn. And now that she could feel it, magic too. Magic that had lingered there for centuries or maybe even thousands of years, without a pony who had cast it. Waiting for something. “You remember what I require of you. You will open it.” She walked past Jamie, until she was standing just beside its ancient shape. “And before you tell me you can’t, I am going to share some other things with you that I have recently learned. Once you learn these things, you will then be so motivated to help Equestria that you will unlock this monument and free what is inside.” Jamie withered under those eyes. She might feel small, but compared to Twilight’s looming bulk she wasn’t much shorter than Flurry Heart had been. You never saw it coming, that’s how she got you. If I’m expecting her to do it, would I be strong enough to stop her? Hell no. “You may not know this, sheltered in Concord all this time. Or perhaps you do. I won’t assume.” The door creaked, and Twilight spun to glare at it. Without a word, Basal snapped it shut, wings buzzing in nervous fear as she fled. Twilight’s horn glowed, and doors all around them clicked closed one at a time. There would be no more interruptions.  “I don’t know which memories you saw, precisely. If there was more time, we could speak about it. Perhaps we will, one day.” But she didn’t sound like she planned on it. Maybe she would reach across and strangle Jamie if she were lucky. But she kept her face even, as her tone darkened. “You must’ve seen, the world below has many creatures who would not be permitted to keep their incorrect views if they lived in the harmony of Concord. It would be a shock to many that there was armed resistance in Hollow Shades—the reason so many innocent ponies died.” Jamie nodded. She’d been there for long enough that it probably wouldn’t even seem plausible for her not to know, even if she wasn’t part of it. More importantly, she wasn’t sure she could lie. She believes Solar, so she doesn’t bother looking too closely at him. But she put that truth spell on me before, the one that will kill me if I break it. She could be using it now and I wouldn’t know.  “All of Equestria’s enemies have united against us now, Jamie. Led by one of the Devourers in living flesh. A demon called the Iron Lord, organizing our enemies across the world to fight against me. They won the first victory the rebellion has scored in centuries, taking one of my airships and killing many soldiers aboard.” Jamie nodded again, but this time Twilight didn’t keep going. She kept staring, as though she expected something from Jamie. What could she possibly say? “That sounds… bad.” It sounded stupid even coming out of her mouth. Twilight glared. “They destroyed a magical resource of immense power. An object they would not even know about if the rot within Concord had not risen into my own house. One I thought I could trust… has turned against us. She plans to subvert the Unification Army itself. They will attack Concord soon, led by their lord.”  Her ears flattened, and Jamie whimpered. Hopefully it would come off as fear for what was about to happen. Really, Jamie’s horror only grew. How can she know all that? Abrams knew about me. She leaned down, lowering her voice to a whisper. “There was something else in that message, Jamie. Something that I’ve been struggling to understand since I heard it. While they plot to seize Concord and massacre every creature inside, they insisted that they had someone inside my own household. An Alicorn they had created for that precise purpose, with a singularity cutie mark.” Jamie’s wings opened, and she jerked away, trying to fly. She could do it now, thanks to all those lessons. She made it less than a foot before her body went rigid, and she smacked onto the floor. Her legs were paralyzed underneath, wings spread mid-flap around her.  She couldn’t even scream—her body was paralyzed, and only a faint trickle of sound escaped her lips. Oh god. “You can’t leave yet, Jamie.” All Twilight’s anger was gone, replaced with smug satisfaction. Something lifted her into the air, and her whole body rotated back around the other way, pointing at the monument. “Your friends thought they could poison my household from the inside. They were wrong to waste such a valuable resource. Alicorn magic is powerful—powerful enough to open any lock.” She leaned in, whispering into Jamie’s ear. “I can’t trust you to open this. I don’t know what else the spell would do. But I don’t need to trust to use your power for good. For the first time, and the last, you will serve Equestria.”   Twilight levitated something off a nearby table—a lump of colorful wax—and began to draw. For the second time in her life, Star found herself cramped into the human airship, with its strange folding skin and body of polished white metal. Only this time, instead of seeming out of place, the straps reaching down from the ceiling gripped perfectly well onto the strange armor she wore. I’m like a foal with a toy. I don’t know how to use this, or what it can do. I should be fighting this battle a year from now. How could she go up against the strongest spellcaster in the world, maybe the strongest wizard who had ever lived… without a horn? “Hey, Star? Is this working?” Sunset’s voice echoed through her helmet, loud enough that she nearly jumped. The helmet was one of the strangest things Star had ever encountered, a kind of magic frozen in clear crystal that could somehow stop bullets as well as voices. Yet she heard Sunset perfectly. “It’s called a radio,” Sunset said, her voice growing a little annoyed. “Look down towards your neck. See my name?” She didn’t, but she could see a strange string of human characters printed there. Right, Sunset can read it. Left over skills from the war. “I see it.” “While you’re looking at it, we can talk. Apparently the soldiers can all talk to each other that way. But we can speak privately and not be overheard.” Star nodded. They had half the transport to themselves, just a bunch of empty seats. She didn’t know the specifics, except that their group would be landing last. The Iron Lord hoped to draw away the princess’s troops from the palace, then smash straight into it with his best weapons. It was a clever plan, even if it showed off just how desperate they were. “You’ve got to be thinking the same thing I am,” she went on. “Even if we win today, will it be any better? Maybe I can stop Twilight. Maybe. But not even she could stop the Alldeath. We’re going to have another enemy to fight when this is over.” Star nodded again. It wasn’t much, but apparently Sunset could still see her. But she didn’t want to say much else. What if the machine could listen to their words? It couldn’t think she was plotting against it too. “The Iron Lord isn’t fighting to replace Twilight,” she said. “I know you didn’t know him, but I did. He’s been leading a rebellion of ponies, without ever thinking he would live to see it come to anything. His body was rotting worse than yours, and he gave every day to setting them free.” “He’s not one of them anymore,” Sunset said, her confidence ebbing. “It was so long… the memories fade. The edges turn misty. But I remember thinking that everything was simple. Humans were evil and everything else was good. But I see that isn’t true. A pony I believe in took my life away, and a human gave it back to me. Nothing makes sense anymore, Star.” She slumped forward in her seat, as much as the straps allowed. But they weren’t moving yet. They would be flying in last. Every one of the Hippocrates’s carriers would be flying today, theirs was just last in line. “If you talk to Discord about it, he’ll say the same thing. We aren’t meant to live this long. That’s why he didn’t make his wife immortal. She loops, over and over again. Young and old and dead and young again. She’s the oldest sane creature on Equus.” “What about Discord?” But even as she said it, Star caught herself. Of course Discord wouldn’t count as “sane.” Sunset laughed in response, loud enough that she started blushing. Her ears did not move, and Star had no tail, but she felt the warmth on her face all the stronger now. It would actually be visible to anyone who happened to be watching. But her embarrassment turned to shock as she saw who was leading the last group into the carrier.  Star smacked one hand crudely up against the helmet, causing it to fold backward off her face. It crumpled like it was made of cloth, though she’d seen Landon try to put a knife through it. It hadn’t even scratched then. “Windbrisk? What the buck are you doing here?” It wasn’t just Windbrisk. Sweetie was there, along with several ponies she didn’t recognize in rebellion colors. Their armor was the same stuff, a fabric laminated with human materials that sat flexibly on their bodies. Apparently it was better than Unification Army plate. But if her friends were wearing it now, she’d have to hope that wouldn’t be tested. “You’re healthy enough to fight?” she asked before anyone else could say anything. “I thought you’d be in the hospital recovering from your burns. Don’t the, uh—transplants take time to heal?” Windbrisk shook his head once, obviously disoriented. So confused, in fact, that it was Sweetie Belle who spoke first. “We can’t just sit around and wait. After what Twilight was doing to ponies in the city, hundreds and hundreds of years of…” She covered her mouth with one leg, looking sick. “I had to help stop it. It’s what Rarity would want.” “The stories are true,” Windbrisk said, the instant Sweetie quieted again. Like he’d been holding that in for hours. “Star… you’re Star Orchid, right? The manes line up…” “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” Star said, before he could say anything else. “I thought I was just helping cast a spell. Only Sunset was supposed to get the new body.” There was an awkward silence between them. A few more humans clambered aboard. Landon stomped past, inspecting everyone. That had to mean they’d be leaving soon.  Windbrisk nodded weakly, looking her up and down. It seemed like he might be trying to get a better look at what she’d become. But he would be disappointed there. Only her face was visible through the armor, and not even very much of that. “Do you think it’s reversible, Star? Do you plan to… try?” In the few days since she’d woken in this strange new body, Star hadn’t even considered the answer to that question. Was her change reversible? It had to be, didn’t it? If Discord could make the Iron Lord into a pony, then it had to be easier to make a human who wasn’t rotten into one. “I think it must be,” she said. “But it took time to make a new body for the Iron Lord. I’m sure they’re focused even more on fighting stuff right now. When the war is over, then I can think about asking for something for myself. Not right now.” Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to promise it. Casting a spell was one thing, but taking a knife to her brain? She’d seen how Discord did it. She wouldn’t be able to pretend that it was just some flash of light and suddenly she was in another body.  But Windbrisk didn’t seem to notice, and he didn’t get a chance to question. Landon strode up to them, gesturing to the empty seats. “Local auxiliaries get settled. Every seat will be filled, so make room. We have one last load of volunteers, then we’re off.” She stopped in front of Sunset, fiddling with the thing on her back. She settled it down on the ground right in front of her, stock pressed down and barrel up. It was almost as long as her body would’ve been without armor. No wonder she had to wear it on her back like that. “I need you to know how this works, Sunset. All of my men already do, but you two seemed confident you’d be the ones to kill the Rogue. Look here.” She removed something from inside the gun—a plastic rectangle packed with bullets. Magazine, Star thought they were called. Though the several-centimeter long points inside looked far less friendly than anything Star had ever read in a magazine before. “These are standard rounds. These we can make forever. Fifty caliber rifles like this should not be fired without your suit. I’ve seen it dislocate shoulders, break hands. It won’t be enough to kill the Rogue, though.” She settled it back into place, then removed a second magazine from her back. Inside was mostly plastic, except for a single bullet. The metal was strangely silver, and the back was clear like glass. A brilliant white light seemed trapped inside, straining to escape. “This is worth more than any of our lives. If I’m dead and haven’t used it, it might be your only shot at the Rogue.” Star realized abruptly she’d been pressing herself into the back of the carrier. She put down her arm. “I don’t like it. Feels… wrong.” Sunset nodded. “Is that a spell?” “Kinda.” Landon slid it back into place. “I think it’s the same family tree that led to magic. But way, way earlier. It’s much easier to break things than make them. When the Empire was still an empire, you could get entropic rounds like these by the crate. I don’t know how they work, or how to make them. All I know is—they’re made for killing monsters. If you’re too close when it hits, might kill you too. So know that going in. Just remember, bullets fly faster than the speed of sound. Rogue won’t hear the shot before it hits her.” She lifted her oversized rifle again, and it connected to the side of her armor. “The sergeant at arms will unlock your weapons, along with the other volunteers. Hopefully you won’t need to use them. I plan on keeping you safely in reserve until Equestria is liberated.” “Noble,” Sunset muttered. “But you won’t be able to. I hope I’m wrong—maybe your bullet is magical enough to stop an Alicorn. But I don’t think so. Magic as strong as hers will need a magic of its own to stop.” Landon shrugged, patting the side of her weapon with one arm. “If that’s true, we’ve got you. If not, we have bullets. Either way, we’re set.” She strode past them, making room for a few more people to join them aboard the transport. They weren’t rebellion ponies, as she’d thought. They wore the same lighter armor that Sunset and Star had been given, with the same green patches on their shoulders. When she stared for too long, a label seemed to appear in the air there, a single string of human letters. It probably spelled out a rank, but Star couldn’t quite read it. She twitched slightly in surprise and recognition at one of the faces she saw. The nurse, Christy, she’d asked for directions. Of all people to be brave enough for a mission like this… She waved one hand, and the woman waved weakly back. She barely even looked at Star, her eyes focused mostly on their two nonhuman passengers. Apparently it was the physical species of the individual that frightened her.  You humans are going to need some help when we win this war. Living with creatures who are different doesn’t come easy to you. “I hope you were paying more attention than I was,” Sunset muttered. “That weapon seemed… a little too complicated. Besides, what if I missed? Better just leave that for her.” “Do we have another choice?” she whispered back. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with magic since I woke up.” “It’s easy,” Sunset said. “But that might just be coming from a corpse. Magic is what keeps you alive when you’re part of the Unification Army. You can feel it drain when you use your spells, and I think it’s the same way for the other tribes. This is… so much better. I don’t need you to keep casting something to keep me alive. I have my own.” She opened one hand, and a faint spark of light appeared there, swirling between her fingers. The same kind of basic light spell that any unicorn foal could cast. “Use your hands. I think whatever the horn does for ponies is internal for us.” “And none of the other humans have figured that out?” Even as she said it, she realized how dumb it was. She’d been made for this. Some… next form of human evolution, invented by the Starmind itself. The kind of people who would live after the world was reclaimed. “I guess they weren’t made the same way we were.” “I don’t know the answers,” Sunset said. “But I remember. I trained as a warmage. Before Twilight ripped my soul out. Even that time will probably be useful. Every Unification Army soldier we fight, I’m going to know what they’re thinking, what they’ll do…” She tapped her head with two fingers. “Every word of their instructions are in here still. Like Twilight’s still with me, taunting me.” She slumped back into her chair, face going white. “I’m going to have to kill them. My brothers and sisters in arms. After all these years… how many will we kill today?” Star reached over, taking her hand and squeezing. It seemed the human thing to do. “Twilight won’t be able to wake most of them. When this is over, we can save them. If we do nothing, they’ll all die sooner or later. Maybe after centuries of torture in the meantime.” Sunset nodded once, squeezing back. But she didn’t say anything else as the last volunteer found their seat, and Landon’s voice echoed loudly around them from overhead. “Alright, listen good. First three waves have already launched. We’ll be taking off in the next few minutes. Keep your asses firmly planted, and do not move while we’re in flight. This is a gatecrasher, not some civilian pleasure yacht. We’re expecting anti-air, so we can’t afford the luxury of moving slow and comfortable.” Star caught the uneasy expressions from around the room. Christy was one, Sweetie too. Not Windbrisk, though. He only wrapped his claws more tightly around the restraints, preparing. “We’ll be working closely with the other groups,” she went on. “Ferris Abrams will be commanding this invasion. There are hundreds of drones waiting to reinforce where we’re weakest.” Landon stepped out from the open cockpit door, her helmet still lowered. She seemed to look them each in the eye, one at a time. “This is your last chance to disembark. Know that there will be no retreat. Either the Rogue’s empire falls tonight, or we all die. We have nowhere else to flee to. The ship we’ve been flying on will not last without pony magical supplies we cannot produce. The Rogue knows this—she would’ve been content starving us out. “We will not go quietly. If we die tonight, we will burn brightly enough that every one of the Rogue’s subjects will watch what we’ve done, and yearn to be free.” She smacked her armored fist into her chest. Six others echoed that gesture, just once. The perfect synchronicity of it almost made it sound like fifty of them had done it. I’ve done this before, seen this before. The Alldeath tried to motivate his dogs before sacrificing them without regard for their lives. But Ellie says she wants to keep us in back, and not even put us in danger if she doesn’t have to. This won’t be the same. It won’t go as badly as the last time. “If any one of you wishes to leave, there is the exit. I will not punish you for changing your mind. But when you leave, know that you will die in this battle no matter where you are. Everyone brave enough to lift a rifle will fight today. We send every weapon, every bullet, every sword. Win with us today, or die a coward when the Rogue’s army comes for the Harrow.” Not one creature rose from their chairs. After a few seconds, Landon banged her chest again. This time, there were more creatures joining her. “I am proud of every one of you. I wish Kondrak were—” She hesitated. “But we all know what he’d say. He would want me to remind you that we’re fighting because we have to. We’ve lost our home, we’ve lost our captain and our friends. But remember that there is a whole city of people who lost as much as we have, if not more. I don’t need to remind my marines of this—but for you volunteers, listen closely. “We will not loot, we will not pillage. We will not fire upon the innocent. If you believe you are in danger, do not hesitate to fight. But if you are not, I will hang you myself when this is done. Is that clear?” She waited for a response from every creature on the transport. Even Star did, though the requirement seemed absurd. Of course they wouldn’t be hurting creatures who weren’t fighting them! What was the point of even saying so? My family are in the city somewhere. Will they live through the night? At least there was one mercy in all this. If they saw her, they wouldn’t even recognize Star Orchid now.  They wouldn’t have to live with the shame. “Then settle in. By sunrise, this world will be free, or we’ll all be gone. I don’t know about you, but I like the former much better.”