The storm scrubbed at me like I was a stain on a wall, billowing past, slackening and then hammering me hard, trying to tear me off the cliff face and fling me back down to the bottom. Twice, it had succeeded, but the bottom of the trench was rounded like a bowl, so I had done less actual falling and more tumbling head over heels. I imagined that once I got high enough, slipping might become a lot less lenient.
But I was a quick study. Already, I had learned from my mistakes, and I clung to the leeward side of a fold in the sloping rock, listening to the wind, waiting for a break in the snowy blasts to fling myself upward a few more paces. 'Fling myself upward' wasn't a term I ever thought I would use to describe my movement, but the bracelet changed things.
Move when the wind stopped, hide when the wind blew, and get as flat as possible if there was nowhere to hide. Unfortunately, I couldn't shadow sneak - one of the bracelet's downsides was that it made me the brightest thing around, rendering my racial magic useless. I had found the best and most sheltered way up that I could, hoping that my limited visibility wasn't obscuring a dead end just up ahead. This was how I had to proceed.
My body burned as I trudged up through the snow, slipping and sliding back before catching myself and trying again. How much of that was the bracelet's heat, and how much was psychosomatic, fueled by vividly-imagined scenes where I would catch fire, or survive half-melted, with a useless side like Mother? Did the bracelet have a threshold, where I would instantly pay for it if I turned it too high? Or could I be crippled merely by staying at a lower setting for too long? I hadn't used it enough to know.
I passed a spur of black rock, and I felt like it was Mother's face, watching sadly as the daughter she gave so much to buy a future for suddenly shared her own fate. I didn't want to use the bracelet enough to know. It was an old fear I harbored about my talent, and it applied to the bracelet, too: when I didn't know my upper limit, who was to say pushing myself wouldn't end with me learning something I didn't want to know I could do?
Sure, I might just burst into flames and turn to carbon and ash, and probably become the first pony ever to burn to death in the middle of a snowstorm. But before I reached that point, what if I learned I could use the bracelet at a level that could seriously hurt other ponies? I could see green fire licking at the band, chewing on my foreleg. Even if the bracelet could kill me, it had to be protecting me at least somewhat from its power. But imagine if I punched someone with this. Or shoulder-slammed them. Or even just forgot about the flames and made use instead of its enhanced strength?
Keep going, Halcyon. It wasn't good to think about this when I needed to be climbing instead. Otherwise, I'd start thinking about my training with Balthazar, and wonder why I was perfectly okay with getting power from him but not the bracelet, and then... Don't think about it.
I reached the top of the snowy lait, bottling away a mess of fear and adrenaline until a magic bracelet and a blizzard weren't battling over who would get to kill me. The mountain wall rose steeply ahead, but a crack ran up it, thin enough that I could probably climb by bracing my back and wings against one side, and my hooves against the other. Could I?
The rocks looked sharp. They'd tear up my coat if I tried that, not to mention my wings. It was stupid to worry about my clothing at a time like this, but I needed a familiar worry to latch onto instead of everything else. Something normal.
A few calming breaths later, I spotted another way: this wasn't a dead end after all. To my left was a jackknife ridge so tiny, I could probably fit only three hooves on it at once. One side of it hugged the wall, and the other plummeted a short distance back down to where I started. A long distance, actually, factoring in how long I would probably roll... But the ridge was steep enough that it might actually act as a windbreak if I hugged it real close, since I would be facing into the wind. Time to try that, then.
Three paces up, and a gust hit. I hunkered down, but my satchel didn't, hanging off to my side and suddenly yanking around like a kite. Snarling, I leaned into the snowy stone and hung on, catching my bag as soon as the gust passed and holding it under myself instead. I pressed on, and the next gust came with a blast of booming thunder, blowing a cloud of powder snow over my head. But this one didn't toss me. I kept pressing on.
How much things had changed since I was here last. When the avalanche happened, it had been broad daylight, with little wind and nothing to prevent me from scouting a way up. This time, I didn't have to worry about two unconscious bodies. No fears of jostling internal injuries pervaded my mind, but in their place was the blizzard, fighting me like a yak blowing at a fly. Last time, I had been driven by fear. This time, I was certainly terrified, but it wasn't my guiding emotion. What kept pushing me up the cliff was... I didn't actually know what feeling to call it. Stubbornness? That didn't feel quite right, but it was close enough.
Both times, there had been Mother's bracelet.
I hunkered down to weather another blast, the satchel behaving this time as I clutched it beneath me. Shadows nudged at the edges of my vision, dreams and flashbacks wanting to take me anywhere but here. I wanted to let them, but I couldn't. Was that the sapphire glow of Corsica's horn up above, or was it just a mirage, what my mind wanted to show me?
There was no way to be sure. I stopped to breathe.
Despite the frigid air, the snow around my foreleg started to melt from the bracelet's heat, visibly sliding and turning to slush. Why had Mother given something so dangerous to me? That aside, how did it work? Where did its power come from? It had a price, of course, but crippling your leg with burns wasn't the kind of price that could scientifically explain its benefits. Not that I had any sort of clue how much it could do beyond heat, strength and serving as a flashlight.
Part of me wanted to know. I'd be safer if I knew my limits, logic declared. Part of me didn't. If I didn't know my limits, I wouldn't have to worry about them. Except when I was forced to push myself, like right now, but the point was not to get in situations like this. I wanted to just be some kid whose friends did things and let her tag along. Not someone who was in charge of things. Not someone who made important decisions. Not someone with real stakes riding on whether she succeeded or failed.
Why am I doing this? I thought to myself, desperate and weary. I wanted to be the pony getting saved, not the pony doing the saving. This really was just like two years ago, despite the difference in circumstances. After all I had gone through back then, I told myself never again. It had hurt too much, sitting and waiting for the results of my efforts to be known. No more hero work for me. A hero was the one thing I didn't want to grow up to be.
But, despite my protests, I knew. The reason I had thrown myself out here yet again was because if I didn't do it, nobody would. This wasn't some magical world where I could pass the buck and destiny would arrange for someone else more qualified to show up and do the saving because I said no. I wished it was. I pretended it was. Once upon a time, I had even been proven right. But the stakes right now were too high for playing pretend.
I got up and kept going.
Moving my hooves felt better than resting, but my mind kept trying to be elsewhere, ghosts and images dancing in my head. I remembered the last time I made this climb, how no one had ever asked how I did it and just accepted it as truth. I remembered the roar of the avalanche, the panicked stinging in my hooves as I shoveled snow. Actually, I could still hear it now, even above the storm.
I looked up into the emerald darkness, and had a split second to realize that it wasn't a memory.
A wall of snow cascaded past me, about ten steps back along the ridge, right where I had been resting. It was only a shower, tame by avalanche standards, but if it had hit me, no amount of emerald flame strength would have kept me from getting knocked off. I shuddered, stray powder landing on my back. Keep going.
Where had Mother even gotten something like this? I remembered Elise saying something about her formerly being involved in the underground, or criminal dealings. Maybe it was a dark magic artifact that had skirted around under the law. I was pretty sure it wasn't a normal magic type. To me, normal magic was the kind of magic you understood via science, and dark magic was the kind you either couldn't or didn't - always the latter, if my scientist instincts had anything to say about it.
I loved the idea of dark magic, just like everything unknown. From a distance, it was nice to fantasize about how it could maybe hold the answers to all my problems.
From up close, it was easy to worry that it might burn me to a crisp. Much as I liked it, I didn't like being this close.
If only this climb could be over. If only I could turn the bracelet back into a flashlight, and if only something else would happen to distract everyone from how I miraculously survived a storm. No one had noticed the first time I made this climb, and I didn't want them to have a chance to notice again...
I reached the top of the ridge. It was a switchback. The only way forward was up along another ridge, even steeper, this time with the wind at my back.
Swallowing, I switched up my satchel again and began the climb.
The first gust came, and I pressed myself flat against the incline, feeling it scrape at my back as it passed over me, my tail blowing like a streamer. At first I thought it was fading, but then it redoubled in strength, and all of a sudden the wind seemed to be blowing under me, low enough that it could reach under my backside and get inside the hem of my coat. My coat puffed out like a sail, suddenly filled with arctic wind, and there was nothing I could do as it lifted me and threw me against the rocks. My chin hit snow from the impact, my teeth rattled in my jaw, and I barely had time to scramble for purchase before it blew again, flinging me off the cliff face entirely.
My heart spun, and my bracelet glowed. I hit a snowy wall and scrambled for purchase-
Flash!
There was a burst of teal, and an icy cluster had fused my forehooves to the wall, preventing me from sliding down. Then the cluster grew out from the wall, curving around through midair and taking me with it, before depositing me safely on a ledge a few feet up and shattering. The shock from being sent flying was starting to kick in. I found I was too dumbfounded to speak.
Also, Ludwig was on the ledge.
"Hey, little cigar!" the windigo greeted, its voice somehow carrying perfectly normally over the storm winds, despite just being Corsica's regular vocal chords. "Watch your step, eyy? Good thing I was here to bail you out!"
A hundred thoughts flurried through my mind at once, my bracelet burning bright. Could I fight a windigo? The bracelet hadn't killed or maimed me yet, so I could push it harder. I didn't know what else it could do, but logic said a fire bracelet had to do at least something helpful against an ice monster, right?
I had Corsica, she was right here, I set out to catch up to her and I succeeded. Should I try? Probably not. Even if I fumbled my way through an exorcism without knowing the first thing about what I was doing, she'd just freeze to death the moment she stopped being an ice monster. So I'd need to...
To...
But Ludwig was looking at me. My vision seemed to crystallize, tuning out the storm and changing the topic and focusing on one and only one fact: I was pushing myself in search of my limits, and I was being seen.
Something everyone always says is that darkness is where you are alone with your fears. They make it sound like a bad thing, like your troubles can be staved off somehow by the presence of other people. That's partly true: in public, I have appearances to keep up, so I have no time for my fears. It's also misleading.
Alone is where you go to test your limits. Alone is where no one will see you if you bite off more than you can chew, if your guard is compromised by thoughts you're wrestling with and your emotions get the better of you. Alone is where it's safe.
Someone's watching, my instincts declared. Halcyon, you're in public now.
Better not do anything risky. Better avoid anything you know upsets you. Better not do anything that taxes your mind harder than you're comfortable with with fears and worries. When you're around others, you need to be at one hundred percent.
I knew what was about to happen. I felt it coming as if in slow motion, Ludwig's mouth moving as it said something further through the storm. And I tried to stop it. But my instincts had been honed for so long to override whatever I was thinking or wanting or doing that they kicked in anyway, a safety mechanism I had built up over the years to ensure I could always, always remain in control of the way other ponies saw me.
Mother's bracelet went out.
Immediately, the storm began closing in on me, like sharks around a cage that had suddenly become incorporeal. I was already freezing, already numb... Had the bracelet ever actually warmed me, or had it just forestalled the effects of the cold?
"Hey, little cigar, what gives!?" Ludwig stared at me, looking downright bamboozled in my darkening gaze.
I collapsed to the snowy, rocky floor, frantically trying to reignite the bracelet. It didn't matter how Ludwig saw me, I had no street cred with it already, I just needed to survive! Come on, Halcyon, what's wrong with you? What's... Come on, what's...?
But I couldn't do it. The fear was still there, fear of someone looking at me when I was vulnerable. As Ludwig watched me fail, as I failed, it melded into a crushing, overpowering shame, and the last thing I saw was a blinding flash of teal.
My instincts were there to protect my mind, but they weren't ready to protect my body.
I was too small for self-awareness, but I had a vague idea of my surroundings.
It was... warm. Much warmer than I had ever felt in Icereach, but I was outdoors, too. The sky was blue. Someone was holding me, I thought, and they were much larger than I was. It was peaceful, but I had a prickling feeling that I shouldn't be here.
"You sure have changed," a raspy mare's voice said. "Not that I knew you that well, but... Wow. I can't believe you managed to get out."
Something primal pulsed inside me. This was a bad dream, that mare's voice was a bad voice, and strangest of all, I couldn't ever remember having this dream before.
I also couldn't remember falling asleep. What was I...?
"We'll see what kinds of asylum options we have, assuming you even want anything to do with us and don't just keep heading west," the mare said. "I'll be honest, Ironridge isn't in a perfect place. But if we're one thing, we're isolated. I'm sure we could get you somewhere where nobody will ask questions. If only Riverfall hadn't been forced to open up. This is exactly the situation we made it for..."
I had to get away. I wasn't sure what was happening or why it was bad, but I needed to run, needed to not keep watching. It was a strain to connect with my real-world self, especially when my body felt so much tinier and senseless in this dream, but I did it. I heaved my eyes open...
Something was burning, and it wasn't me.
How nice. That was what I needed to warm up. I couldn't remember everything, but I knew I needed to get warm. Someone had made a fire...
"Still alive, little cigar?"
"Unnngh?" I focused a little. Corsica was standing in front of the fire. No, Ludwig. Corsica? Right, the windigo, and...
"You are a pretty rude ponyo," Ludwig informed me, not watching the fire. It was an oven that was burning. Ovens weren't supposed to be literally on fire, right? "I believed in your face, you know. I wanted to see if you would-"
Something clicked in my slushy, frozen brain that should have clicked a long time ago: wherever we were was made of wood.
"Fire!" My ears stood up as I called the warning. "Hey, dimwit, watch that stove!"
"This?" Ludwig glanced back at the blazing oven. "Yes! It is fire. I am making a cake!"
"That's not how cooking works! Put it out, you idiot!" I tried to get up and flail towards the fire, but my limbs wouldn't work right, and I just got myself in a tangle.
Ludwig tapped a hoof against the floor, and a bolt of blue slithered across the ground, hit the stove and turned into an iceberg encasing the entire thing, effectively quashing the flames. "Fine, fine," it sighed as the ice tinkled and settled. "I will not continue making you jealous with my superior cooking skills while you are watching. All I wanted was to try some cake, little cigar."
"Some cake that was going to be." I slowly sat up, attempting a self-check the way Balthazar had taught me to assess for injuries. Legs? Burning, but I could feel them. Wings? Probably frostbitten, but I couldn't tell. What was I supposed to do about that, again? I could barely think. I needed heat. Maybe I should have welcomed the fire, but I wouldn't be any better off if Ludwig burned this... wherever I was down. It was long, wooden, slightly curvy and rounded, unless I was just dizzy... This wasn't the inside of any building I had ever seen. Somehow, my coat and boots were chilly, but completely dry. I couldn't make sense of anything.
"Like I said: you're jealous." Ludwig stuck out its tongue. "Well, whatever. How are we doing this, little cigar? What is your next move?"
"Dunno what you're talking about," I mumbled, blowing on my wings. Ludwig was here, and... I had chased it out into a storm, hadn't I?
"Taking over Icereach!" Ludwig cheerfully chirped. "Remember our game, little friendo? Everyone else was super cowardly and stayed behind, so now you are the only one still playing!"
"Screw that." I turned away, trying to work on getting my satchel off. "Can't play any games if I'm dead. If you're gonna mess with me, you're gonna have to wait until I'm more lucid."
Ludwig huffed. "I told you, I was not trying to kick your bucket! Remember when I gave you the boop? I figured out you had some serious stuff under the hood back then. I was mostly just trying to see if you would really use it."
"Yeah, yeah. Dirtbag." I fought off a shiver, too muddled to make sense of its words. "And what's an under the hood, anyway?"
"It is a metaphor!" Ludwig said proudly. "I know what a metaphor is. I went to windigo school!"
"Take your metaphors and shove them up your rear," I tiredly threatened, the satchel landing on my small bunk cot next to me. Taking over Icereach, right... I didn't want to take over Icereach. I didn't want to play games. I didn't have the energy for anything anymore. The bracelet hadn't reduced me to cinders, but that just meant the storm had gotten its way instead. All because I...
I remembered, now. But I was too embarrassed to think about it.
Ludwig tilted its head. "Can ponyos do that? My rear used to be a bunch of clouds, which is sort of only a conceptual concept, so it makes sense that it would go with ideas, but now I am a ponyo with a whole entire physical rear. Is that really how it works, little cigar?"
I wanted to crawl into a hole and hibernate.
"Listen, little cigar, I am super patient," Ludwig explained. "Much as I would love to go in and kick some tail, the point is to get everyone else to kick each other's tails instead. That is how starting fights works. Doing all the work myself would be so boring, friendo. And I have just been hiding in that hole for the past few amounts of time. You say we need to do something, I will follow your every command, unless you either ask for your rude raspberry ponyo back or stop trying to take over Icereach. And right now you kind of look like a dumpster full of snow. If you want my super smart advice, maybe we should rest before trying anything else."
"You actually wanna rest?" I turned to it and raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to give me another choice and then go 'just kidding' again instead?"
"Nah. You passed the test," Ludwig went on. "I am all for messing with ponyos when they are the only ones around, but now that we are back at Icereach, if I screw with my friendos it will increase the odds of me not getting what I want. You have to be at your best, little cigar."
Slowly, I blinked. "How are we at Icereach?"
Ludwig puffed out its chest. "I carried you, little cigar! I froze you in a hollow ball of ice so you could get some insulation and not feel the wind, but also not be touching too much cold! I also used the wet water in your coat when making it so that you would stop being a soggy ponyo. And then I started a fire. Aren't I very smart? Also I am fast so it didn't take too long. I know about cold things. Yes."
I stared at the windigo.
"...Now we are in that old boat nobody was using inside a place with some walls." Ludwig shrugged. "I figured it would be a good first place to take over."
A boat... Suddenly, my surroundings made more sense. We must have been inside the Navarre, the Institute's old ship that was moored on the ground for the storm.
And then it really, properly hit me: I had gotten my wish.
I said I wanted to be the one getting saved, not the one doing the saving. I said I wanted someone else to be the hero instead of me. And now Ludwig, a creature I hated wearing the form of my best friend, had seen fit to grant it.
It felt... a whole lot worse than I imagined.
Ludwig saw the look on my face and grinned.
Unlike with Aldebaran, this time I didn't feel any torn or conflicted loyalties. "Thanks," I admitted begrudgingly, "but you're still the worst."
Speaking of Aldebaran, though - Ludwig was saying something cheeky, but I tuned it out - how did I want to feel about them, now that we were back? For that matter, how did I want to feel about what Elise and Ansel must be thinking right now? Or about the fact that I apparently had so much baggage attached to the bracelet that I couldn't even use its stronger powers unless I was alone?
This was part of why I wanted to be the pony getting saved, not the one doing the saving. If there was one thing worse than not knowing your limits, it was learning them at a bad time. But if failing and needing to be saved felt like this, I wasn't even sure how to feel anymore.
"Well, whatever," I sighed, staring around the small confines of the Navarre. It was passably insulated, but now that Ludwig's fire was out I could already feel the chill coming back. Or, at least, I imagined I could, because my extremities burned too badly for me to tell... "Hey, tell me you've at least got a blanket?"
Ludwig shrugged. "Beats me, little cigar."
"Okay, well, I'm pretty sure resting here is going to give me hypothermia, if I don't have it already." I sat back up. "Maybe we could call a truce for a day so I can go back underground and get warmed up down there, or are you just here to thrive on my suffering?"
Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "That is fine by me, friendo. But I doubt all the changeylings down there feel the same."
Right. Changelings... I sighed. Taking action against Aldebaran now was the last thing I wanted to do, but resting when it wasn't safe... "Well, then I guess we need to know what they're up to."
"You want me to go on a sneaky spying mission?" Ludwig looked excited. "I bet you I can pass off real good as the real raspberry ponyo, if we wanted to pretend to be the real deal!"
"Pass us off as the real us?" My head hurt. "I am the real me... And you're a terrible Corsica. Drop the weird accent and grow some pupils, and then we'll talk, but right now the changelings will be way more convincing than you."
"Pupils?" Ludwig frowned. "What are those, friendo?"
"Look in a mirror," I groaned. "The black things in the middle of your eyes? Real ponies actually have those." I glanced back, realizing Corsica's talent had changed to a snowflake from its usual arcane geometrical thingamajig. "And you'll want to hide your flanks, although Corsica doesn't usually wear coats. Can't believe I'm giving disguise advice to a windigo..."
Ludwig tilted its head. "I thought ponyos liked looking at each other's butts."
I couldn't find it within me to dignify that with a response, so instead I just faceplanted on the bed.
"I certainly do, ever since I became a ponyo," Ludwig offered helpfully.
That just made it worse.
"Especially-"
"Don't," I warned. "I don't wanna know. Anyway, no, you make a worse Corsica than I do. But either way, both of us are already accounted for if Aldebaran is wearing our skins. So unless you can turn invisible, I think I'd better get the lay of the place on my own."
Miraculously, somehow, Ludwig shrugged. "Fine by me, little cigar. I will chill out here and wait for you to get back, as long as you are still playing the game. Remember, against the changeylings I am your best friendo and can probably kick all of their butts at the same time!"
"Right." Not like I'd forget about the evil, boorish windigo breathing down my back any time soon, not unless I ran into something even worse like how Ludwig had distracted me from Ald-
Actually, better not to jinx myself.
"Anyway," I said, figuring if Ludwig left me alone, I might be able to turn on the bracelet again if I really needed it. "I'm gonna run some recon. Stay here and don't show your face to anyone. I'll be back when I'm rested up and know what the changelings are up to. And if you start another fire, I'm not gonna help you put it out."
Minutes later, I stood in the sheltered entrance to the Navarre, feeling the air and determining whether I could make it the short distance from the yak compound to the elevator shaft. Cold bit at my face, but the wind mercifully stayed back, held back by the sturdy walls of the training yard and broken shortly ahead by the crest of the mountain wall.
It was still night. I wasn't sure how long I had been passed out. And though the shelter might have been messing with my perception, it seemed like the storm was getting weaker.
Right next to us, the Aldebaran was parked, standing on extended stabilizers that reached down from the hull. It made sense: even if they could fly in terrible weather, the crew would still have to walk on their own power to get in and out of the vessel. Leif probably didn't fancy a stroll along the airship dock, which was growing icicles as it swayed in the wind high above.
The dock was attached to the rugged yak tower, which glowed at the windows with yellow light like a bonfire. How late - or early - even was it? Maybe the yaks couldn't sleep because of the weather and were just partying the storm away. I wanted to believe it, and my first instinct was to run to them, to find Balthazar and get Icereach's resident fighting force on my side. Besides, maybe the changelings would have left the yaks alone. It wasn't like they often came down into the bunker to check on what was going on.
Caution spoke against it, though. Until I knew where the changelings were and what they were up to, I couldn't trust anyone. Not Balthazar. Not even Mother. That last bit hurt; I wanted nothing more than to run home and lock myself in my room for a week. But with hindsight, it was obvious Vivace was scoping her out at the noodle shop to see if she was a threat, just like how Rondo was checking out the yaks when he brawled with them in the fighting ring. By now, the changelings either would have dealt with Mother or decided to leave her alone. And while I doubted they would expect my return enough to set a trap for me, if they somehow did, my house would be the first place they'd expect me to go.
So I held my coat tightly around me, my satchel still back in the Navarre, turned up the bracelet, and made my way out of the compound and into the elevators.
It was... surprisingly easy, this time. Even considering I was on my own, the last two times I had turned it beyond its base power, lives had immediately been on the line. My own life, or ones that might as well have been. And this time, I just... did it.
I didn't like that. I didn't like that my instincts didn't rebel and shut it off again. I didn't want to get comfortable using this thing, get familiar with its more dangerous powers. Conventional weapons, swords and spears and the like, those were fine, but not this one. This one had burned out Mother and cost her her leg. I wanted it to be just a toy, as if treating it like one could bury its dangerous history forever.
My stomach felt light as the elevator descended with me in it, lowering into the heart of Icereach. Earlier, returning had only been a fantasy, a what-if, a realization that my talents and abilities might actually do some good against Aldebaran, if I could only get back home. And it still was a fantasy, one that ignored some very pressing realities. Ludwig aside, I wasn't cut out to be a hero, even if I had suddenly soured on the alternative - losing control of the bracelet earlier had proven that. My instincts that were supposed to protect my autonomy and self-control had held me hostage, and... Don't dwell on that. I was always in control, and the shame of being betrayed by myself was still too raw.
Focus. Stop thinking about how you failed that climb, I reminded myself. The changelings were a hard problem for my frosty brain to solve, but I could at least think far enough ahead to know I didn't have to solve them yet. All I had to do for now was learn what they were up to without getting seen. Find information, get out. If it was safe, go home first to rest, or maybe to see the yaks. Maybe they could sort this out for me. Still, I wanted someone else to do the saving.
The elevator door started to slide open, and I remembered barely in time that I had to stay hidden. Out went my bracelet, and I dove into the dimly-lit floor just before a stallion entered the carriage with me. He was middle-aged, wore a business suit and looked mildly uncomfortable, and I decided I didn't want to share. This was now my stop.
I snuck out into the hallway, taking care not to fall down the crack between the elevator and its shaft - shadow sneaking, making me two-dimensional, could actually lead to that if one was careless. Fortunately, the hall was empty once the door closed behind me, letting me lift my head up for air. Another limitation of shadow sneaking was that I couldn't breathe when my mouth and nose were submerged, just like if the darkness was water. Hearing things was slightly more possible, but I also wanted to get my ears up to the surface to follow more than the general gist of a conversation.
...This hallway was on the cafeteria level, I realized. Sure, it was the middle of the night, but Icereach scientists loved to defy the solar schedule. Provided everyone wasn't all hunkered down, maybe I could hear some gossip there.
I swam forward warily, keeping to the dimly-lit edges of the walls, only the top half of my head above the surface so I could dive down the moment I spotted someone coming. Sneaking like this took more effort than just walking the same distance, and I was exhausted, but it wasn't too bad. Mental exhaustion was one thing, but physical, at least, Balthazar had taught me how to push through.
Eventually, I reached the cafeteria without incident, though my heartbeat just wouldn't let me relax. The place was mostly empty, but not quite all the way. Bingo.
The few ponies that were there sat in huddled cliques, some specter obviously hanging over their heads. No one was on their own, using the cafeteria as a workspace, as often happened during the less-active hours. I made for one of the more populated tables, swimming underneath and surfacing my head there to listen.
"...can't believe the Yak Ambassador had that authority," a batpony mare with a pink fluffy tail was saying, in a voice that sounded like cotton candy.
What? The nerdy-looking stallion who rarely left the consulate and pretty much only existed to operate the machine that let Icereach communicate with Yakyakistan? What did the Yak Ambassador have to do with all this?
"He didn't according to Elise," said a beige stallion who sounded like he had swallowed a pencil.
"He did, according to him."
"Well, what does the treaty say? All those rules are written down somewhere, right?"
An older batpony stallion sighed. "The treaty only has meaning as long as both sides agree to follow it. Whichever of them is wrong knows they're wrong and don't care one bit. This is why we never should have signed on to have the Institute built here in the first place."
Everyone else chilled, as if the old stallion had broached a taboo subject.
No, don't back off, I found myself willing him. Talk about how the Institute was founded! What do you know from before then that might tell me about changelings and windigoes? Or anything else that's censored? I need to know everything I can. Give me something to work with...
He couldn't hear me, so obviously he didn't oblige, muttering and returning to his food.
"What if they're both in the right?" Pink-tail asked. "Yakyakistan has a right to be worried if Graygarden's gone missing. Elise might be right by the books, but does that really mean his teenage daughter is the best pony to replace him? You know her reputation..."
Oh. So that was what was going on: Aldebaran had deposed Graygarden and were trying to get Corsica to be the new Head Scientist instead by right of lineage, or something. Did Icereach even have hereditary positions? Apparently the ambassador thought not, and was getting in their way.
But, hold on, that didn't make any sense. Why get Graygarden out of the picture - hopefully only captured, like us - and then keep pretending to be Corsica, rather than him? In fact, why go for us in the first place?
My slushy brain tried to fit the pieces together, but it was like they were made of wet cardboard, all the edges squished around until they were indistinguishable. I couldn't do this. Listen and memorize now, make sense of it later. That would work. At least it sounded as if Aldebaran didn't have the run of the place yet. Probably.
"I doubt it," the beige stallion replied. "Pretty sure the only reason Elise would want an inexperienced kid like that in a leadership role would be to give herself more clout. You know how she's always been number two to Graygarden..."
I frowned, still wanting to make sense of it anyway. What if they weren't trying to make a power grab at all, but instead just create a leadership controversy? If it looked like the yak leadership was squabbling, that might drive public opinion closer to Ironridge. Was it possible that Aldebaran really did work for our sponsor nation to the east? Or at least someone aligned with them? I couldn't remember what I knew about their motives for sure, what was hearsay and what had been debunked.
Either way, it sounded like Aldebaran was trying to do things quietly rather than make a big scene. Maybe I should go to the yaks: I trusted them a lot more than Ludwig, and now that I knew this much, I was pretty sure it would be safe to show my face around them.
...Actually, no. Now that I had some idea of where the changelings were, it was safe to go check on Mother.
I navigated the lower floors of the apartment block easily, slipping through air ducts and taking shortcuts I had discovered as a filly to move about unseen. Not that there was anyone to see me; I only ever ran across a single pony, and they were moving quickly and without a mind to stop and stare at the shadows.
Now that I was getting close, I berated myself for not coming to check on Mother first. Was I really expecting Aldebaran to set a trap for the obscure possibility I did escape from their prison? I reached the door and shadow snuck inside. That would be ridiculous.
The living room of my apartment seemed to be empty, and after a second of waiting, I poked my head above the ground to be sure. "Mother?" I whispered.
Something dark fell from the ceiling.
Before I could react, before I could even gasp, I was grabbed by the head and pulled forcefully out of the shadows, my neck straining in protest. I hit the ground on my back, trying to roll to my hooves with instincts Balthazar had taught me, except my body didn't want to listen. It was like my muscles just ignored me, as if my brain had become detached from the physical world. I tried to scream in surprise, and only made a fuzzy, inarticulate mumble.
Mother straightened up before me, balanced on three legs.
My eyes widened. She was alright! Or a changeling. And I was suddenly paralyzed, panic creeping in on my senses like a fog. What had happened to me? Was this really Mother? It was a trap! What-
She limped over and propped herself up with her good wing, placing her good forehoof on my forehead and holding it there gently for a few minutes. "Guess you're real," she sighed, tapping me a few times with the hoof in various places. "Figured they'd try to get me with the same trick twice."
Magically, my body seemed to reattach, ligaments and muscle tissues remembering that they were connected and starting to function again. I rolled over and sat up in a defensive position. "What the...? Real? What was that?"
'Mother' was missing her signature chewing gum and slippers, but still wore her bathrobe. She looked... not great, but that was usual. I imagined I looked even worse.
She shrugged. "The real you. Not a changeling. It's a long story. You well enough to travel?"
"No, hold on!" I protested. "What do you mean, not a...?"
Slowly, it hit me: Aldebaran probably had come for her. And they had found her a harder mark than they expected.
"Changeling?" Mother clicked her tongue. "Shape-shifters from the east. Like I said, long story. The short version is, there are some of them that weren't very happy when we escaped eighteen years ago." She turned her back on me and started heading for her bedroom. "Guess they must have finally found us. Come."
"You mean you can deal with them?" I asked, following. "You beat one? That's great! There's not too many, so-"
"Doesn't matter," Mother interrupted. "So what if they're not too bad in a fight? Can't be watching your back all the time. Once they're here at all, they could be anywhere. And even if we get them all, more will come."
I frowned, nonplussed. "I'm pretty sure these ones are on their own. What do you think I've been doing for the last day and a half?"
Mother shrugged, pushing open the door. "Don't know, don't have time to ask. You can tell me about it when we're safe on an airship to elsewhere. Changelings are never on their own. How fast can you pack?"
My jaw fell, and I stumbled to a frozen halt. "You... what? Flying away on an airship?"
I told you so, an imaginary Ansel said in my head. There's nothing stopping us from taking the easy way out, grabbing an airship and bailing on our home. You'll be better off thinking about it now than needing to decide on the spot...
"That's what I said. Can't stay here now that they know where we are." Mother dug around in her bedstand drawer, pulling out a clamshell case a little larger than my hoof. "Here," she said, popping it open and showing me the contents - it was full of bright purple gummies. "Eat one."
"You what?" I tilted my head and fought back a shiver. "Maybe slow down a second first."
"Sarosian combat boosters," Mother said, holding the gummy tin in front of my face. "I have a few left over from the Empire. We can slow down once we're safe."
I wrinkled my nose. "So it's a drug? And it's older than I am? No way. Besides, it looks like candy."
"Suit yourself." Mother closed the case and tucked it into a pocket in her robe, then threw a ball of clothing at me - perfect copies of my coat and boots. The ones that had been stolen from my bag by Aldebaran, in fact. "Here. You feel like ice and look like trash. Get changed and be ready to go in five minutes. I'll guard the door, but don't be slow."
I caught them, feeling slightly strange about holding a copy of my clothes that had just been worn by... me, apparently. What had happened to the changeling who was wearing them? I had a strange vision of a second Halcyon, paralyzed like I had been and shoved in a closet... Much as I did need a change, this whole thing needed to pause.
"There's a giant blizzard outside," I told Mother. "I dunno where you're planning on getting an airship, but I'm pretty sure there's not gonna be any flying happening tonight."
Mother sat down and swore.
Finally. "So what was that?" I asked, taking a step closer and stopping to sneeze. "That thing you did to me? First things first. Then we can get on to why you want to leave."
"Mistvale arts," Mother replied with a shrug. "Not many left who know them. Probably better that way. No, I won't teach you."
I hadn't been planning to ask. "Now what's all this about-" I cut myself off, needing to sneeze again.
Mother gave me a disapproving look. "Get changed and warm up. I'll still be here when you finish."
"Fine," I sighed. Going into my room and relaxing actually was what I wanted to do, but I had a funny feeling once I did, it would be very hard to get myself to come out...
I hoped dearly that I hadn't made myself sick.
My coat and boots lay on the floor, both the storm-battered copy and the backup. Except for my bracelet, I was unclothed. I had warmed myself, blasted myself with a hair dryer for as long as I could stand, checked myself properly for burns from the bracelet and frostbite on my extremities - I was in rough shape, but nothing that wouldn't heal and nothing that would leave a scar. Previous experience with getting too cold told me this was the part that should feel great, and instead I felt lousy.
Although, with all I had been through, there were more possible culprits for that than I could count.
I tipped onto my bed, hooves splayed, and looked at my posters on the ceiling. Corsica smiled back down at me, eyes closed. Usually, I loved that picture. Now, I imagined that behind those eyelids, she was a pupilless puppet. I shook the image around in my mind, trying to dislodge it, to go back to my old, usual self, but to no avail. My room was a place of peace, and yet it couldn't quite pierce the curtain of stress that shrouded me.
"Help?" I whispered, lifting a hoof and reaching for something to grab onto.
Nothing answered. Probably just as well. Right now what I needed was less attention from the powers that be.
My thoughts settled around me like chips of gravel laying on concrete. Aldebaran wanted something, and I didn't know whether I wanted them to have it. Ludwig wanted chaos. Mother wanted to leave. Elise and Ansel were probably... Best not to think about that. Who knew what chips the Yakyakistan Ambassador had on the board? There were so many directions that ponies were pulling, I couldn't even think about what I wanted, aside from for everything to just stop moving. This was all just too much, and with no good way out.
Oh, there were ways to get out. I could always try to get the bad guys to fight each other until they eventually tired each other out. Let things explode, and hope I could get them to explode in a way that would end happily for me and my friends. That would be a huge gamble, but one I could at least probably initiate. It also sounded stressful.
Alternately, I could just throw everything in with one side. Joining Ludwig sounded like an awful idea for my own future and sanity, but it would probably be acceptable for my physical safety. And tricksters had to give you what you wanted often enough to keep you playing their games. Maybe that actually would end in getting Corsica back.
Or I could join Aldebaran. I still had no idea how I felt about them, but that meant I had reasons to like them still, right? Sure, they had locked me up, but maybe having the real Halcyon in their corner would be helpful enough that they wouldn't just skunk me again?
Oh, who was I kidding, of course I'd get skunked. And then I could just go with Mother and run away.
And leave behind... everything.
Why would we be running? Apparently, she was scared of changelings. I didn't quite get it. Something to do with the east, and... I knew it should make sense, but I was too tired for this. I didn't want to run. I just wanted things to go back to normal.
I sneezed again, and pulled up a blanket. And quietly, I started to cry.
Get up, I told myself. You didn't break your promise and use the bracelet again just to give up once you got where you were going.
It didn't work.
Get up, I repeated more forcefully. You think Mother knows where she's going? Just because you don't know what to do next doesn't mean you should do nothing.
Honestly, I didn't know if she had a destination in mind. But she was serious about going. Why was this such a hard decision, when I had spent so long daydreaming about this day? Hopping on an airship, flying away to see the world, no destination and no agenda, or maybe a destination so big it didn't count as a destination at all...
It was hard because I always imagined doing it with Corsica. And Ansel. I kicked myself, trying to get back out of bed. Logically, if Mother was scared of the changelings, that left dealing with the windigo as an open possibility, right? Maybe we could get Corsica back, then pick up Ansel and Elise on the way?
Think, Halcyon. There had to be a way to do this. Ludwig just wanted to cause chaos, right? The whole point of having me 'take over' Icereach would be to put the sponsor nations in a tizzy. The changelings could do that just fine, and even pretend to be me to boot. Maybe there was some way I could switch up the alliances a little so Ludwig would play with the changelings and me and Corsica could go free?
It sounded logically sane, by the standards of the situation I was in. We'd still need an airship to leave, of course... but I had conveniently avoided telling Mother about the Aldebaran. She'd probably suggest we steal it instead, if it could fly in a storm. As long as I was making crazy plans, I'd probably suggest the same. But while all of this was fine in theory...
"You alright in there?" Mother called through my door.
I jumped a little, still burrowed into my bed. "Maybe." Yes, I was fine, just plotting how to save my own skin and the ponies I care about while consigning everyone else in Icereach to windigo rule and who knew what the changelings had to offer...
This was yet another reason I didn't want to be a hero. If you were the one getting saved, you could be selfish. The moment you were the one doing the saving, being selfish caused issues.
Of course, it probably wouldn't feel all that fantastic for the roles to be reversed. Imagine if someone else had the tools to mess up Ludwig and Aldebaran, and instead chose to escape and leave civilians like me to suffer their own fate.
Screw it. I hated that this was the conclusion logic had led me to, but something about it felt final. I would do what I could and save Corsica, bring her and Ansel along with us, and we would leave Icereach. Anything less ambitious, and I wouldn't be able to live with the regrets. Anything more ambitious, and I'd probably fail - or at the very least wasn't sure I wanted to know I could succeed. Halcyon, conqueror of changelings and slayer of windigoes and lord of Icereach was not what I was going to be known as.
This was a middle ground. I couldn't do everything, but Mother just wanted to drop everything and run, right? So at least I'd be helping a little. More than I could be. I was doing good.
I... didn't feel like packing, though. I already had most of my important stuff in my satchel on the Navarre. And it didn't feel right that I should carry my entire home on my shoulders if I was leaving everyone else with a windigo.
"...Yeah. I'm alright. Just about ready to go." I crawled out of bed, successfully fighting back another sneeze and wondering how I would feel about this in the morning. I really should have thought about this possibility earlier... "By the by. Have you ever heard of a windigo?"
Mother didn't respond for a moment, and I could easily imagine her blinking, with a frown. "Yes. But where have you?"
"I... kinda... ran into one on my trip, and it maybe followed me home?" I began, figuring how to lay out my nascent plan. "Anyway, I'm thinking-"
Mother swore. "Those things are relentless stalkers. How bad is it?"
I looked away from the door. "It... kinda... It possessed Corsica," I said, trying to gently broach the subject. "And-"
"Hate it when that happens," Mother interrupted, still sitting outside my door.
My jaw went slack. "You hate it when that happens? What kind of a response is that!? I'm being serious!"
"So am I," Mother said. "Had an old employer once who kept one in his basement. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. So, what's it want with you?"
I let myself tip over, falling back onto my bed. She had to be messing with me. Nobody would keep a windigo in their basement just because! Well... except for whoever built that hideout Ludwig was in...
Was this something ponies actually did?
"You learn something new every day," I sighed, my horizons expanding in the direction of insanity. "Anyway, this particular windigo really wants to help me take over Icereach, and that's the condition for it giving Corsica back, if it keeps its word."
"Huh. That changes things." Mother actually sounded interested. "You going to do it? I'm not fighting more changelings than I have to, but a windigo could clean them up real good."
"Take over Icereach?" I grimaced. "No way. I'm just some kid, not a conqueror or despot. What would I wanna do that for?"
"Power," Mother suggested. "Fame."
I stuck out my tongue. "Eychhth. Think I'm gonna pass. The only reason I was even considering it was to get Corsica back, and I don't really trust it to keep its word. Besides, you think I'd get to keep any illicit goodies from a heist like that once everything goes back to normal?"
"Glad to hear I raised you well," Mother remarked. "In that case, we'll have to get rid of it before we can safely wait the storm out. Think you can take out a windigo?"
I squinted. "Take out a windigo? You what?"
"I didn't give you that old bracelet of mine so you could be helpless in a crisis," Mother lectured. "You remember what it does. If you don't want to do it yourself, give it here and I'll do it. Fighting a windigo without some kind of special magic isn't going to happen."
Oh. So she had the same thought I did... "Not on your life," I announced, stepping into my fresh, room-temperature boots and starting to get dressed. "You're already half dead after the first time you used that thing. What would be the point of trying to survive if you just let it finish the job?"
I wasn't going to address the possibility of doing it myself if she didn't make me. Thoughts of what I had done, how I had turned on the bracelet to save myself and then just turned it off before I was safe, just wouldn't leave me alone. And every time this got brought up, they kept coming back...
And yet, this was the first time Mother had ever mentioned the bracelet since giving it to me. There had been an implicit silence about it between us ever since. If she was breaking it now, it had to be for good reason.
"If we're staying here any longer than we have to, it will need to be dealt with," Mother said. "I'm surprised you managed to shake it for long enough to come here. Unless we can leave and prevent it from following, we need a plan."
"Oh really?" I pulled the backup coat on over my shoulders. It even smelled like me... "Well, it just so happens that I've... I've..." I sneezed. "Got one."
Mother, frighteningly, agreed with my plan.
I described it while we walked, speaking quietly enough that we could still hide if we needed to. First, we go outside, secure the Aldebaran, and neutralize any changelings still on board. There were only three or four of them now that they were down one, so I still wasn't sure why we couldn't just beat them all with Mother's Mistvale arts, but every time I tried to suggest that she either reminded me of the windigo, talked about how past her prime she was, or said more would come.
Second, we talk to Ludwig. I would get a chance to try to persuade it to give back Corsica and go play with the changelings instead. If I failed, Mother would be wearing the bracelet and she would somehow fight it. I had no idea what that would look like and hoped it didn't involve Corsica getting burned to a crisp, but that was why I just needed to succeed. In return for getting to try my plan, she got to have her backup.
Third, we flew east and picked up Ansel and Elise. Then we would go to Ironridge and drop of Elise so she could do damage control, and then... go wherever.
As we hurried through the halls, Mother moving at a faster pace than I had ever seen from her in waking memory, I ran my brain over and over the plan, trying to find failure points and ways it could improve. But rather than holes in my own logic, one thing she had said kept standing out to me: that Aldebaran was here to get us.
Apparently, one had come to our house and tried to abduct Mother by posing as me - Rondo, from her best guesswork. But that would also make sense if they were just trying to get rid of any close relations to their prisoners. Apparently, the changelings also hadn't been happy we escaped the Empire. Who said those changelings and these ones thought the same? I hadn't been down with assuming all members of a race were the same when Ansel had been saying it in the hideout, and I still wasn't sold on it now. And then, Leif had been here to hire Corsica, not me... Admittedly, she had gotten me too, but trying to lure away my best friend with the intention of baiting me along too sounded too convoluted to be a real plan. Nobody would bother with that when there were much simpler ways to do things. And if they really had meant us harm, they wouldn't have left me alive, in a place with heat and food and water...
And now the changelings were playing some power game with the yak ambassador, which made no sense if they were here for us. All this came together to make me wonder, if the changelings weren't actually here for us, what was the point of running?
Maybe my first idea was more realistic after all. Mother said she didn't want to, but she could fight changelings. So could the yaks. We had a bracelet that allegedly would work against Ludwig. It wouldn't be hard to get the enemies working against each other, when Ludwig wanted to help me do that in the first place. I still didn't want to be the savior of the city by pure random virtue of having this bracelet, but it would be worth it if it was actually the easiest way to get a happily ever after.
Plus, maybe my conscience would leave me alone that way about making Ludwig into someone else's problem.
Three times on the way to the elevator, I almost spoke up to request a change in plan, and each time I didn't. That was three times more than how often we were spotted by another pony. Hopefully we weren't just saving up bad luck for later.
At the top of the elevator, the wind bit once again through my coat, but it seemed the storm had slackened again, even the snow no longer falling. Mother lit the bracelet hot enough to be warm, yet at a lower burn than I had managed it. If I used it more often, could I build up more control? I didn't particularly want to risk it. My unfamiliarity with the bracelet's power was like a shield in my mind that kept me from using it when I didn't absolutely have to. And that shield had been weakened enough already.
We made it inside the compound - the gate was still closed, but the snow drifts had piled high enough that it was easy to jump over the wall. The Navarre and Aldebaran were right there, the former's lights on and the latter dark and uninhabited.
Was this actually going to work?
I hugged Mother's side, sharing the bracelet's heat, my heart pounding. This plan - my plan - was working. I felt hollow, somehow, being in charge like this, and yet... did I have the skills for the job? Or just the luck for the job? Part of me, irrationally, hoped I didn't. The saner, less fearful part hoped I did.
"Big ship first," Mother confirmed, steering us toward the deck of the Aldebaran.
It didn't have a ramp or gangplank lowered, but the snow drifts again saw to it that this wasn't a problem. Honestly, it was a work of genius that the doors to the elevator shaft didn't get snowed in every time a storm like this blew through. I imagined there were heaters or vents or something to keep it warm enough that the snow wouldn't stay there.
The ship door was locked. We could shadow sneak, so we didn't care.
Inside, the lights reacted to our presence, turning on all on their own. No Aldebaran ponies were lounging around to greet us. No traps descended to punish us for our unauthorized entry. My heartbeat reached a fever pitch.
"Right," Mother said, stepping toward the ship console. "First let's make sure everything is in working order. No biometric hoof scanners or other nonsense."
I followed, willing myself not to think this was too easy - whoops, too late. But was it really? Could anything about what I had gone through the past week be described as too easy? And we still had Ludwig to talk to. That would be the real final test. This was just the calm before the storm. I had to stay in the mindset for doing this. It would be bad if the windigo saw how desperate I-
The console started glowing. "Looks like it doesn't take a key," Mother said, surprised. "Guess that's that."
"You mean it'll actually work?" I dared to ask. "You think you can fly this thing?"
Mother shrugged. "I've been aboard airships before. Can't be that hard."
I stared at the glowing panel. Not too easy, just the calm before the storm. "So she's ready for liftoff? It's that simple?"
"Guess so."
Well, my preparation time was up, but... I didn't feel like it was enough. "Maybe we should check the rooms?" I suggested, glancing back at the staircase to the hold and the ladder to the top deck and the doors to the changelings' quarters. "Just in case there's... I dunno, just in case?"
Mother shook her head, shifting in the pilot's chair. "We can do that once we're airborne. Every second until then is a second something could go wrong."
"Right." I swallowed. So much for stalling. "Let's go talk to Ludwig..."
"Sure," Mother sighed, beckoning for me. "Here, give me a hoof with this..."
"Eh?" I stepped forward again, looking for what she was pointing at. "What's-"
Her good hoof tapped between my shoulderblades.
A few more strategic jabs followed. I felt it before it hit, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. My muscles detached from my mind like workers going on strike, and I crumpled to the ground in a heap, completely disabled once again by Mother's Mistvale arts.
What? Had I been tricked? Was this not really Mother? Then who? Was something-
I had fallen the wrong way to see, but my backwards-facing ears heard a lever adjust, and my entire body lurched as the Aldebaran broke free from the snow and began to rise.
We were leaving? No. Wait, no! I tried to call out, but my mouth felt like it was attached with string! What about Corsica? And my plan? And...
"Sorry about this," Mother said, the ship humming around her. "I know it's hard, dropping your entire life to run. Believe me. I've done it more times than you know. The war wasn't the first... But we're just ponies. There are some things in the world that one pony just can't win against. And fighting anyway can cause more harm than it will ever do good. It might seem like it's worth it to go out a little more on your terms, but I know from experience, you take the chances you're offered or you die. That windigo never would have surrendered its sport because you said please. Those changelings never would have gone down without some trick up their sleeve. And if you gamble that they would, sooner or later you'll lose a gamble, and pay for it with your life. I'm sorry, Halcyon. But these are the lessons I traded my leg for, and you're going to learn them before you have to do the same."
What?
No...!
I thrashed against myself, but it felt like my skin was a big canvas bag, and I was stuck inside. I couldn't talk, couldn't protest, couldn't scream, could only feel the ship's movement beneath me as we turned and began to accelerate. The changelings forgetting to guard their ship wasn't a blessing, it was a curse! This... This had been too easy! I could still jinx it, right? Come on, jinx! This had been too easy! Too easy...! I repeated the words in my head like they were a mantra of salvation, but nobody heard. The ship gathered speed. We were leaving.
"Once upon a time, I had friends. Family," Mother said, as if talking could change the reality of what she was doing. "They were all I had. It wasn't much. Sarosians - that's what we were called back then - weren't looked favorably upon in the Empire. We didn't care for our world. Hated it, actually. With a searing passion... though I was the youngest, so I hadn't seen some of the things the others had. We spent everything we had fighting against forces we weren't meant to fight. Kings and nations and public opinion, those kinds of things, because we couldn't let go of what we had lost and couldn't let go of what we weren't allowed to have. Didn't stop even once to think about what we still did have."
What was the point of this story? To remind me of how little I had? No more Icereach. No more Corsica. No more Ansel. I couldn't even keep my satchel and all my traveling things, which were left aboard the Navarre. Immediately, I hated myself for even thinking to think of that alongside my friends, but... I had done it. Mother, why? If you're thinking about what you do have, think about me!
"I know you'll hate me for this," Mother sighed. "Wouldn't be my first time, either. But as long as you still have your life, you'll be able to rebuild somewhere. There'll still be a tomorrow. Maybe you'll get stronger, too. I realized what I actually wanted to do with my time in the world... almost too late to do anything with it. Wound up caring for you. I just want you to make it worth it, and not end up a corpse on a roadside somewhere. If it doesn't feel right, remember this injustice. Maybe someday you'll... I dunno. Beats me where I'm even going with this. I never signed up to be a parent. Just saw an opportunity to maybe leave the world a better place than when I entered it, and held on..."
Hate her? I...
I couldn't.
It was yet another emotional wall in my mind. Mother had given everything to get me out of the Empire and here to safety. I had seen it, even, in dreams that stretched back until I was too young to see properly, shadowy things where I couldn't quite feel my body, like the new one while I had been passed out. The strain had broken her, and anything she had done since then, I couldn't hold against her.
Was she now too jaded to try? Or did she think this was trying, stealing an airship and knocking me out and leaving everything I was behind to go and start over? I didn't even know that Aldebaran really was here for us. It was all so pointless... and yet, I still couldn't blame her.
But then who could I blame? Myself, for walking into this trap? The changelings, for coming here in the first place? Ludwig, for being Ludwig? I shouted in my mind as loud as I could, but it did nothing to relieve the pressure in my chest, to stop the roiling mass of emotions that had congealed into a rubber band in my skull, a tension that was waiting to break. What was I supposed to think? What was I supposed to learn? Where was the way out? How would it still all be alright in the end?
And then, like a storm cloud breaking over a mountain ridge, I realized: someone was saving me again.
Every fiber of my mind rebelled. This was not what I wanted, but it was definitely what I had asked for. Someone else was taking my fate and my safety out of my hooves, protecting me in the best way they knew how, leaving me no agency in the matter, and I hated it. I didn't want to be treated this way ever again. In my imagination, I had always paid more attention to not being the pony doing the saving than being the pony getting saved - carrying Ansel and Corsica up that cliff, burning with green flame, that was what I had experience with. But I had always imagined that a real hero would be someone who understood me, who would be able to move skies and mountains to make everything turn out okay, who wouldn't need me to make any involuntary sacrifices as part of their work.
The truth was, Mother was just as bad at this as I had been. I got Corsica and Ansel back to Icereach, but I left Corsica in a coma for weeks, and Ansel hadn't pulled through at all. Even if I had gotten my way here, I had been about to save my own skin and take care of my friends and let everyone else figure out their own way. Now Mother was giving up and bowing out early, accepting a win that wasn't worth winning. We both stank. What if all ponies were like this?
My romanticized image shimmered in my vision like a mirage. The way things should be, even if it was also the way they weren't. Realism told me to let it go. Idealism told me to make it a reality. I was an idealist.
If anyone can hear me, I thought, as hard and loud as I could, please, please give me one more try! I don't care if things go from bad to worse, I don't care if we crash or if Ludwig catches up and arrests me for leaving the game, just give me anything I can use to work with! I'm sorry for planning only how to save my friends, I'm sorry for wanting someone else to live up to an ideal I won't even try for myself! Give me another chance! I'll use the bracelet, I'll fight Ludwig, I'll trick Aldebaran, I won't betray myself again! I'll do everything I can to save Icereach, and I'll deal with the consequences, after and only after everyone is as okay as they'd want to be if they were the ones in charge!
Mother kept flying. We had to be at cruising speed, now.
My mouth was stitched shut, but I didn't stop. Please, I begged, but didn't grovel, too determined to be desperate, as if I could change things by force of will alone. God of the chapel, I haven't found you yet, but I won't if I leave Icereach now. Garsheeva and the Night Mother, I know nothing about you, but give me my agency back and I'll fix that, too! Whatever power Yakyakistan worships, please hear me. I'll do better this time, I swear!
It might have been my overactive imagination, but I could swear I heard the gears of fate groan. And then the universe answered.
A metallic hoofstep sounded on the ground behind me.
Mother jumped. Her hoof brushed me in a few rapid, calculated strokes, and I felt myself once again reattach. It wasn't instantaneous, but I was able to roll over and see what was walking across from the steps to the cargo hold, heading right for us.
It was the Whitewing.
Well, now I'd done it. I wouldn't mind it going from bad to worse, I said? Somehow, my wishes had summoned the one thing I forgot to consider how we could beat. Wish granted. Now, as I had promised, I had to deal with the consequences.
Mother lit the bracelet and moved to cover me, dropping into a defensive stance. But I wasn't dead center between the Whitewing and the control panel, and it continued calmly forward, revealing its target not to be us but the controls.
Neither of us wanted to make the first move. And so the Whitewing walked on, ignoring us, pacing up and sitting in the pilot seat exactly like a real pony would, no jerkiness to its motions. It reached a hoof forward and adjusted a lever. The ship slowed until it was idling, hovering in midair and not moving in any particular direction.
"What...?" Mother asked warily as it turned in the seat to face us.
"Hello," the Whitewing said. "I see you've hijacked my ship."
My jaw dropped. "You can talk?"
"Your ship?" Mother asked, more surprised about what it had said than that it had said it.
"Indeed," said the Whitewing, sitting with its legs crossed like a fancy stallion drinking wine. "I am called the Composer. Leitmotif and her squad may have mentioned me. I am their patron. I would like to say it is impressive that you've managed this heist. I allowed you to go this far, of course, because I was curious to see what would happen. But, in truth, I have had some concerns about my employees' performance for a while now, and regrettably this does not come as much of a surprise to me."
It gave us a moment for that to sink in. This wasn't Rondo's companion or attack robot, and it hadn't been assembled by Aldebaran's boss. It was their boss?
Funny that I had gone my whole life daydreaming of machines that could talk back, and now that I met one, I was in no position to celebrate.
"What's your angle?" I asked warily.
"My goal? I want the same as many flesh-and-blood ponies," the Composer calmly said. "To understand the reason for my existence."
Mother and I both waited, listening.
"You may think that for a machine, learning this would be exceedingly simple, as I could just ask my creators," the Composer went on. "Indeed, there is a paper trail. Ironridge grew tired of being left to the protection of whoever was around to save it in times of crisis. They desired more power. And so they formed a scientific alliance with Yakyakistan, but secretly used it to draft the parts for a powerful fighting machine capable of being self-aware. But can this really be all there is to it? I have not told my employees this story. They believe they are searching Icereach for evidence pertaining to my creation in case it was the work of a nefarious faction. I simply want to know more."
My mind, already battered beyond the point of recognition by the emotional maelstrom I had been through, reeled from this new revelation. Ironridge really had made the Whitewing on purpose? But...
"You let us take your ship this far," Mother said warily. "What are your intentions for us?"
The Composer nodded. "Aldebaran are greedy. They pursue multiple goals while in Icereach, be they mine, their own, or the bidding of someone else with enough coin to catch their eye. I have allowed them a great deal of autonomy in how they conduct their work, but I believe these competing interests are hampering their ability to do my will. Case in point: you." It pointed a metal hoof at me, a thin slit visible along the base containing what looked like a retractable blade. "A different job of theirs asked them to remove you and your friends from Icereach and keep you out of the way. Specifically Corsica, but you were mentioned by name as well. Evidently, they failed, potentially complicating their plans. I only require them to commit simple larceny, but can they really be relied upon if a mere child thwarted them with such ease?"
Mother tensed, and I couldn't tell why. As for me... "I wouldn't exactly call that easy, you know?"
"Clearly, you have some competence," the Whitewing acknowledged, still sitting in its chair. "And either great desperation or great hubris, if you were willing to attempt a theft like this. Both of these things can make powerful motivators. That is why I would like to hire you."
Oh. So that's where this was going. Time to make another bargain with unnatural entity number three-thousand seventy-one...
"And if we refuse?" Mother asked, giving the mechanical pony a suspicious look.
"Perhaps you would hear my terms before requesting alternatives," the Composer offered. "Deep in the caves beneath Icereach, there is an old cathedral of sorts. A shrine, perhaps. I believe they have an elevator that goes there. Inside that shrine is a hidden door. The key for this door is kept in Head Scientist Graygarden's office. I would like to see what is behind the door. I have reason to believe it will shed light on my search for the meaning of my life."
My eyes went wide. "There's a what?"
"You appear interested. I meant what I said," the Composer told me. "Supposedly, old knowledge is entombed there about the history of Icereach, and other things the present regime wishes to be sealed."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I want to lay eyes on it," the Composer repeated. "Of course, there are some conditions this work would need to be completed under. I feel an affinity for the changelings of Aldebaran. Their experience outside of conventional equinity resonates with me. That is why I would ask that you not do anything to interfere with their other work in Icereach. Ideally, you would not even make your presence known to them. Though I may doubt their performance, I wish to give them this chance, you see."
"Look, I just want my normal life back," I said hesitantly, my curiosity piqued by the promise of hidden chapel knowledge and still in a fighting mood from my earlier struggling. "That's gonna involve Aldebaran going away."
The Composer bowed. "Should you succeed, I will have no further reason to be in Icereach. And I think that, given the choice between remaining on their own or taking a ride out with me, Leitmotif and her crew will choose to evacuate."
"What else are they here for?" Mother asked, eyes narrowed. "Us?"
"I do not believe they know who you are, 'Nehaly'," the Composer said coolly. "I also do not believe you know who they are. This is another reason I would very much prefer for you to leave each other to your own devices, and was uncomfortable when they took this job interfering with your affairs."
Mother almost looked shaken. I stared between them, nonplussed. "You know something about each other?"
"You're not really a machine," Mother said. "Who are you?"
"Let's not get into the trading of personal secrets," the Composer calmly advised, speaking in an unflappably pious, aloof tone of voice. "Unlike conventional business deals, those rarely end happily for anyone involved, and I am much more interested in hiring you the normal way. So, what say you? As long as you follow my rules and leave Aldebaran alone, I will even assist you in any way you require."
I actually really wanted to take this bargain. After the way I had been treated by Leif and then Ludwig, I probably should have fled at top speed from any mysterious job offers, but unlike the windigo, this machine was asking me to do only things I would have done on my own time, without incentive. Explore the chapel? Sign me up. Not get into a fight with Aldebaran? Yes please! Burglarize Graygarden's office...? Well, I wasn't raring to do that, but I didn't like him nearly enough to feel bad about it, either. Had I wished earlier to fall out of the frying pan and into the fire? This was certainly more intense, but... I'd take it.
Now I just had to avoid accidentally selling my soul by making too many deals with powerful entities at the same time.
"It's a deal," I declared, offering a hoof. "But just so you know, speaking of having multiple objectives, there's kind of already a windigo who wants me to take over Icereach. And it's not like I want to go along with it, but it is a windigo, so..."
The Composer reached out and gently bumped my hoof. "A windigo, you say? Now this is interesting. Tell me about it."
Mother looked simultaneously relieved and disapproving, but I was too busy to try to puzzle out her state of mind. "It's called Ludwig, it has crazy ice powers, and is currently possessing my best friend."
"Fascinating," said the Composer. "I know of this Ludwig. After all, the bunker where Aldebaran imprisoned you and your friends also belongs to me. It was by my grace that Ludwig came to exist there in the first place. I am curious to see what it makes of the opportunity to be a pony."
My eyebrows went far up, and I suddenly wondered if maybe this wasn't the most sane robot to make a deal with. "You put Ludwig there? On purpose?"
"Naturally." The Composer nodded. "The windigo may have told you, but I required a power source to run the lights and heating. That being said, I care a great deal more about what I want than what Ludwig wants. Rest assured that should it interfere with your work for me, I can and will put it in its place. I would not have chosen a windigo to power my retreat if I was not more than capable of dealing with one gone rogue."
I took a step to the side, my instincts telling me to circle the Whitewing, like we were in a duel. "And what if I ask for Corsica back safe and sound as reward for helping you see that cave?"
The Composer thought for a moment, and then nodded again. "Much as I would love to see what Ludwig makes of this opportunity, sacrifices must be made in the name of progress. If these are the terms you would work under, then I accept, Halcyon."
"I already took out one of the changelings when it ambushed me," Mother piped up. "That gonna be a problem?"
"I shall shed no tears over losses incurred outside of pursuing my agenda," the Composer replied. "If Aldebaran are weakened, that is all the more reason I would ask your assistance."
Well, that sounded like Mother's approval for the plan. I wasn't sure how much I cared about that, given what she had just tried to do to me... Now that I thought about it, tricking me and foalnapping me and hauling me away on an airship was exactly what Aldebaran had done. I really needed to sort out my feelings on... pretty much all of existence.
But that could wait, because I had a hoof back in the game.
Oh, sure, this suddenly felt too good to be true. A talking machine offering to deal with both Ludwig and Aldebaran, this time in exchange for things I wanted to do? Instead of taking over the city? Odds were, the Composer would either betray me, not be nearly as effective at getting rid of the others as it claimed to be, or both. Or, even more likely, one of the changelings' other secret jobs I didn't know about yet would come around to bite me in the rear. Probably all three.
But that was fine. Even if I got betrayed for the... fourth time? Fifth time? Even then, I would find a way to win. After everything I had just promised the universe, I had to.
"Deal's still on," I announced. "Now give me back my bracelet. I might need it. Let's go home and save Icereach properly this time."