Everything was dark and peaceful.
I felt like I was floating. Were my eyes open? I wasn't as aware of my body as I usually was. I knew I was tired, though. This felt good. Everything I usually cared about was walled out by the darkness, thoroughly enough that I couldn't even remember what it was. I only remembered how strained I had been, how everything had been wearing me out. Now, I could rest.
I needed this.
Except, there was a light. Something pearly and fuzzy. I wasn't looking at it normally. Instead, I was... aware it was there. As if I didn't have any of my normal senses here, and yet I had new senses to replace them. I couldn't describe it.
There were lots of emotions I felt like I could have felt about the light. I didn't remember what any of them were. Only a vague curiosity remained.
I reached out.
"Halcyon?"
"Halcyon, how did you find me?"
"I thought... I..."
"Listen, never mind."
"Halcyon, I changed my mind. This is a bad idea."
"Not existing... It gets old after a while."
"Did you remember me? Did you come to bring me back?"
"I didn't think that would be possible. But, here you are."
"I want to come back. Please take me?"
"I didn't realize not existing would feel so... long."
"Wait... If you're here... Don't tell me..."
"You know the way back, right?"
"Oh well. At least we'll be together again."
"Halcyon?"
"Halcyon, wait!"
"Take me with you!"
"Or... you'll come back for me, right?"
"Maybe you like it better on your own, but at least remember me!"
"You have to rem..em..be..r.......y...o...u....r...........o.....w.........n........................."
I awoke to a sensation I had never experienced before, and it was a worrying one: it felt like my memory-dreams had reminded me of something critically important, and I couldn't remember what it was.
New memories and sensations rushed in to replace it, quickly driving out even the memory of forgetting. First, I was hungry. Second, I was... alive. Was that right? I remembered a flash of bright light, and the past slowly reconstructed itself around that: me, blacking out. A shard of something, sticking out of my side. The explosion. The Composer. My house.
Had that all happened?
Third... if it had, despite it and my hunger and everything before the explosion that was still reassembling itself in my head, I felt surprisingly alright.
I tried to move, and was instantly stopped by a stabbing pain in my side.
"Ow!" I yelled, the force of doing that only making it hurt more. "Ow ow aarrgh gah... Owwwww..."
"Halcyon!?" It was Corsica's voice. A blue horn lit, and moments later, the room's lights turned on. "Careful. No sudden movements. You're injured, but you'll make it through."
My eyes started to focus, and I held still, taking the advice. Was this...? Yes, a hospital room. That was a sensible place for me to be.
"You waking up?" Corsica asked, stepping over to my bedside. I saw that she had made some effort to clean herself up, but still looked trashed. Right, we had been run to the point of exhaustion by Aldebaran and...
"Ludwig?" I muttered, my thoughts starting to catch up. "Aldebaran? Everyone...?"
"Gone, locked up and no deaths." Corsica shook her head. "Speaking of death, you dying of anything? Nurses wanted me to get them when you woke up."
"I..." I swallowed, mentally doing a second pass of my circumstances. "There was a giant spike..."
"You'll pull through," Corsica encouraged flatly, walking to a doorway, sticking her head through and calling.
Moments later, a medical pony appeared. She smiled at me when she saw I was awake. "Halcyon! How are you feeling?"
I tried again to move, this time to lift a hoof and rub at my eyes. My side warned me that it would be a bad idea. "What happened?"
"There was an explosion in your house with a lot of creatures present," the nurse explained, fussing over me and lifting my blankets to check at a bandage around my barrel. "You got hit with a bit of shrapnel. It's a very light wound, thanks mostly to that thick coat you were wearing and how much stuff you had in the pockets, but you were already suffering from severe fatigue and exhaustion. The shock of it alone must have pushed you over the edge and caused you to pass out. You need to take better care of yourself, poor thing."
"Only a light one?" I remembered feeling like... Well, I didn't know, but hadn't I been impaled? It was enough to make me pass out! And this sure didn't feel light! "You've gotta be joking..."
"You've got a lot of stitches," the nurse continued. "It missed your wing, but you'll still want to stay off that for a month or so to not aggravate things. When you walk will depend on how you're feeling, but you'll need to be careful and the more you stay off your hooves, the faster it will heal. Rest and take care of yourself, and you'll be back to normal before you know it."
"Normal, huh?" My brain was still waking up. There were so many things I usually thought about and kept track of, and I could tell they were gone because my mind felt much emptier and quieter than it usually did. It probably meant I was overlooking something I'd kick myself for later. What kind of light wound was she talking about? I tried to crane my neck to see, and again winced from the movement. It wasn't bad if I held still, but moving might be tricky...
"Be careful, now," the nurse reminded me, stepping back and observing as I tried to move. "Don't push yourself. You've been through so much that that wound is actually the least of your worries. You just slept for twelve hours. A stabbing, we know how to treat, but whatever else you've been doing to yourself..." She shook her head. "Signs of frostbite and burn marks on the same pony..."
I nodded and tried again to rise. "What about everyone else?" The bandage wrapped around my full barrel, just below my wings, but there really weren't any other signs it was that bad. Aside from how much it hurt. Had I seriously just taken a glancing blow and keeled over? It sure hurt a lot more than a light wound probably should have... although, granted, I had never been properly injured before. The worst I'd ever felt were bumps and bruises from yak training that wore off in a day or two. I thought I was dying! Please don't tell me I overreacted and passed out from nothing...
Corsica was standing in the corner. Please don't tell me I had stuck her in the same position I had been in two years ago, all because I couldn't keep it together for just a moment longer...
"Everyone else? They'll all pull through too," the nurse assured me. "Two of the yaks will need a leave of absence from work and a third will be wearing an eyepatch for the foreseeable future, but those creatures are just about impossible to kill. Other than that, it's just a few cuts and bruises."
That was a relief. I glanced at my bandage again, and then at Corsica. Had the nurse told her I wasn't really in any danger, too? She looked... well, probably like I had looked when our roles were reversed two years ago.
I probably should have been grateful to be alive. After all, I thought I was dying. Giant spikes were serious business! And yet, instead, all I felt was embarrassed.
"Could you, err... get me some water?" I asked the nurse, managing to sit up but abandoning my attempts to get out of the bed.
"Sure thing, honey," the nurse said, bustling out of the room. "I'll be right back!"
Me and Corsica were alone.
"Just so you know," Corsica said, drawing a breath, "I... Never mind."
"You had it bad too, eh?" I looked at my surroundings. They hadn't even hooked me up to a heart-rate monitor. "It's probably going to take me years to unpack all that. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"For what?" Corsica didn't meet my eyes. "Your... things are over here."
She slid a box out from under the chair she had been waiting on. In it, among other things, I immediately spotted my boots.
Oh. That was what I hadn't been paying attention to. Save for the bandage, I was completely unclothed.
Some deep-seated instinct tried to flip a switch, like when I had shut off my bracelet out in the storm. But boots couldn't be telepathically commanded to appear on my hooves, so nothing happened.
My mind tried to flail, but I was still too tired, and the flailing went nowhere. It was like shaking an empty jar. There was a good reason I didn't want anyone to know what I looked like with my boots off, I was sure of it - locked behind my mask and not a reason I actually knew day to day, but I knew it existed. But I didn't have any energy to take my rules seriously, and besides. Corsica and the doctors had already seen me without them, and it hadn't ended the world.
"Oh. Yeah. I... guess you see why I wear my boots around now, yeah?" I lifted a forehoof, gingerly showing it off. "So... what do you think?"
Corsica looked at me with a dull expression. "All that's happened, and that's what you want to talk about?"
Still testing my movement, I tried to shrug... Ow. "Nothing like changelings and windigoes to put all your old problems in perspective, right? Besides, with this many elephants in the room, we gotta start somewhere."
"I'd think that would make you want to talk about your new problems instead," Corsica said.
I chuckled self-consciously. It made my side hurt. "Pretty sure that one's gonna take weeks. But if you've got something you wanna say, I'll listen."
"Not really." Corsica still wouldn't meet my eyes. "I was just nasty enough that a literal demon didn't want to share headspace with me. You ever do something you really didn't want to know you had in you?"
Oh, you know, just casually bring up my greatest fear... "Yeah. You saw me and Ludwig in the storm, right? Saw my bracelet? Ask about its history some other time."
"You know what it's like?" Corsica raised an eyebrow.
I nodded. "Sure do."
Corsica just sighed.
"So, err..." I shifted so that my forelegs were more visible. "What do you think? Of me without the boots on."
This time, Corsica answered. "Serious answer? Or silly answer?"
"Both?" I wasn't even sure whether I wanted to have this conversation, but if I let it drop now that my secret was out of the bag, not knowing would bother me until the end of time.
"...They look good," Corsica said. "Pretty. Could even be beautiful, if you dressed right. I can see why you hide them. They don't fit your dumb little urchin vibe at all."
Beautiful, huh? I looked at my legs. Halfway down, the light silver-gray of my batpony coat brightened into crimson, forming sock markings of loud color. Without them, I was monochrome save for my eyes, camouflaged in the bunker like a stone against stone. With them, I was highlighted, like blood on a labcoat. I wasn't sure how appealing of a color scheme it was; didn't even know if they clashed, or whether the right dress could take any clash and turn it magnificent. Which was unusual, because color schemes were normally something I was good with. But in this case, my knowledge just seemed to... stop. I couldn't apply it, even if I tried to.
Sometimes, in the shower, I fantasized that they did look great, but those weren't thoughts I let myself seriously entertain. Not like I was ever going to use the better half of my looks when staying scruffy suited my needs a whole lot better. And that was all before whatever reason to hide them I had that was so important, my un-masked self didn't even want me to know it.
"...So was that the serious answer, or silly answer?" I put my hooves back down again, testing my shoulder and starting to check my range of movement.
"Serious," Corsica said. "Silly is that I half figured you were a cyborg."
I blinked, caught completely off guard. "A what?"
"Some of your limbs replaced by machines?" Corsica shrugged. "Come on, it's not that weird of a guess. Didn't you used to be quadriplegic when you were little? That's not something you just grow out of."
I frowned, remembering. "You sure you're not thinking of Faye? She was quadriplegic, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I was too."
Corsica tilted her head.
"The filly who introduced us," I reminded her. "We first met at her fifth birthday party. She had a birth defect, or something. I guess she did look a little like me, and it wasn't too long after that she died. You've gotta be thinking of her."
Corsica wrinkled her nose. "Guess so. You'd probably remember better than me, anyway. I seriously could have sworn..."
The nurse came back with my water. "Here you are, sweetheart. I'm so sorry that took so long; they were out of paper cups and I had to... Oh, never mind! Anything else I can get you?"
"Uh, yeah." I inched again towards the edge of the bed, once again testing my range of motion. Really, if it wasn't that bad, I shouldn't have to be so careful... "Can you get my stuff? I might need some help with my clothes."
The nurse frowned, pulling closer the box that Corsica had revealed and pulling out my boots. "I'm afraid some of them got a little dirty in the heat of things. Are you sure you want to get on your hooves already? It's up to how you're feeling, but you shouldn't be carrying anything heavy."
Nope. I was still annoyed at myself for allegedly fainting from the shock of a mere light wound and freaking out my friends, so the last thing I was going to do now was be a wuss about the pain when she said I'd be able to move. She had said that, right? "I'm sure. Where's everyone else, by the way? Is Corsica the only one here?"
Corsica shook her head. "We've been watching you in shifts. Ansel and your mom are sleeping right now."
"I'll go fetch them, though," the nurse said, nodding absently and wandering back out of the room, apparently not seeing fit to help me with my clothes. "They did want to be called when you were up and about..."
Well, now I definitely had to get dressed. Ansel didn't know what I looked like with my boots off, after all. Stiffly, painfully, I got to the ground and made my way over to my boot, stepping into them and starting the one-winged process of fastening them.
"What's got you in a twist?" Corsica asked, watching. "Figured you'd be the glad-to-be-alive type."
"A twist?" Was it that obvious? I grunted, struggling with a boot. "I'm not in a twist. I'm in peak condition, never better. A paragon of physical form. Which is totally why I passed out from a light little poke and stayed out for twelve hours and must have scared you half to death and-"
Corsica caught my mouth in her telekinesis, forcing me to stop. "You know what your problem is? You think everyone is invincible. Remember your little thing with survivor's guilt from two years ago? 'Oh, woe is me, I didn't get caught in an avalanche, my friends are dying and I'm perfectly fine...' Stop telling yourself almost dying is the better half of things! I get it. Waiting for them to finish putting your dumb rear back together sucked. It's no fun being the survivor either. But if you think getting impaled and sent to the hospital means everything will be sunshine and rainbows the moment you wake up, you're just going to frustrate yourself and maybe even get injured worse. You've got nothing to prove. Now stop telling yourself you're fine."
I blinked, taken aback. "Am I seriously that easy to read?"
Corsica shrugged aggressively. "I can't pick apart a room filled with posters just to show off, but I know my own friends."
I sighed. "Well, thanks, but if it's really not that big of a deal, I shouldn't have passed out in the-"
"Stop." Corsica closed my mouth again. "Think about what you just said. When did I tell you getting blown up in your own house wasn't that big of a deal?"
"I..."
Well, now I felt even more ashamed, but for a different reason. Corsica's condition was written plain on her face; she looked utterly drained and despondent. And yet she was the one slapping some sense into me.
"Thanks." I said, looking at the ground. "I guess I needed that. You at least mind helping me with my boots? I've never shown Ansel either, and the fewer ponies that know-"
"He knows," Corsica cut me off. "He was on the shift before me."
"Oh."
For a moment, there was an awkward silence. And then the nurse returned, Mother and Ansel at her heels.
"You all..." I looked up at them. Mother was wearing my bracelet. That was probably the safest place for it, I realized. It wouldn't do for something like that to get lost.
"Hey," Mother greeted. There was a look in her eyes I had never seen outside of my very youngest dreams, something that looked like a memory of determination. It clashed with her, and yet I liked it.
"Next time," Ansel said, marching stiffly up to me and grabbing me in a hug, "wait for Elise to at least get out of the ice before marching out the door and into a blizzard and getting yourself who-knows-how-you-avoided-it killed!"
"Ow!" I winced from the pressure, going slack and trying to fall back. "Ow ow-"
Ansel released me, realizing what he had done.
"Yeah, uh, I..." I reached for my bandage, taking a steadying breath. "Sorry..."
Ansel nodded. "Promise this cures your desire to always be the one in danger instead of others, and I'll forgive you."
Funny how Corsica was just lecturing me about that... "I think I can do that. And as a bonus, how about no more adventure for the time being? I'm gonna be nice and happy to stay at Icereach and live like normal."
That was only half true. Part of me was done with adventure, done with getting betrayed, done with feeling out of control yet with too much responsibility at the same time, done with everything that wasn't lounging around looking at ether crystals under microscopes in Corsica's lab. The other half of me remembered that I had at least three miracles to account for as far as my own survival, plus potentially a fourth depending on whether I believed the nurse or Corsica about how light my wound was. And who knew how many more it took my friends to stay safe on their side... I wouldn't be able to rest easy forever.
"...So what happened to the changelings?" I eventually asked. "Actually, Mother, what were you doing with Leif at our house?"
Mother shrugged. "Deciding whether to kill each other."
I blinked. "What...?"
"Long story." Mother shook her head. "But I guess it's one I've held onto long enough... If you're cleared to leave the hospital and want to know who Aldebaran really are, let's go somewhere more comfortable."
I glanced at the nurse.
"Not so fast," she chuckled. "I'm glad you're feeling well enough to be on your hooves, but we've got a few checks to do that had to wait until you were awake, plus wound-cleaning procedures to go over. But I'll go fetch the doctor if you're that ready to be out of here..."
She bustled out yet again, and I turned back to my box of stuff. My coat, I noticed, had been wrapped in plastic. "Hey, err, anyone mind giving me a hoof with that...?"
Ansel dutifully obliged, starting to unwrap the garment, but Mother shook her head. "That one's a goner," she said. "They cut it off you. And even if they hadn't, you lost a lot of blood."
I deflated, watching as Ansel pulled out the coat and revealed the truth of Mother's words. A large slit cleanly severed the bottom, right through the buckles I usually used to tie the coat closed. The bloodstains were obvious, but not too bad... but that was probably because a large area over my injury had been cut away entirely. Good thing I had a backup.
But, wait, what about my other things? I probed a pocket, and recovered the keystone that unlocked the door in the chapel, relieved that it hadn't been lost or broken. And Icebeard's journal... Where was the journal?
The pocket it had been in was missing. It was in the section of the coat that had been cut away.
"Wasn't there a book?" I asked, my heart speeding up. "In a pocket here..."
Ansel nodded. "Yes, and you were quite fortunate there was, since it took the brunt of the blow. That shrapnel stabbed you clean through it. I know they say knowledge is power, but I doubt whoever coined that phrase was thinking of using books as physical armor. Sadly, while you made it through, your book couldn't say the same."
Wait, the journal was...
"What were you carrying around a book about, anyway?" Corsica asked.
No. This wasn't fair. I wanted to read that! I skipped ahead to the ending promising myself I'd go back and read that! So many questions were still unanswered from the past week's adventure, there was so much I didn't know, so much I needed to know for everything I had been through to have meaning...
I had been through too much to take this as well. I started to cry.
"My... bad?" Ansel tried to console, reaching out with a hoof.
"It's a long story," I said, squeezing my eyes shut and hanging my head.
"Isn't everything?" Mother shrugged. "Elise wanted to see you in Graygarden's office, once you're up and about. Even she's got some explaining to do. Don't rush it on her account, though."
"What was the point of all this?" I asked, shuddering and then wincing. "Why Aldebaran? Why windigoes? Why'd they come here? Why do we live somewhere where no one tells you anything important, anyway? Are things just going to think they can go back to the way they used to be? The one thing I found that might have all the answers, and I don't even get to keep it..."
Corsica huffed. "You're not the only one who thinks it was a pointless joke. But usually, you're the one telling me to chin up."
"And what about you, old mare?" Ansel glanced at Mother. "You made out like you know those vagabonds. Looked like it, too, if everyone who saw you with their leader has anything to say about it."
Mother narrowed her eyes, popping in a new stick of gum and beginning to chew. "Don't know how many times I have to tell you. Empire changelings and I have a history. Turns out their leader is one of the ones I had a history with. I don't monologue every day, so if you want to hear it, let's get out of here and find somewhere comfy."
The nurse took that as her cue to return, a proper doctor at her back. "Alright, if you're ready, there are some checks we'd like to make before we discharge you. Aside from the obvious, you've been through quite the ordeal, so we'll also need to go over any unrelated symptoms or anything we missed..."
An hour later, we were leaving the cafeteria, laden with take-out, Ansel carrying mine. The medical mares had fussed over me for a while longer, searching for additional injuries or maladies from my exposure to the storm and my time in the bunker. Nothing. Well, not nothing - I had lingering signs of frostbite on my wings, but nothing that wouldn't heal on its own, and some scorched fur on my foreleg where my bracelet usually sat. Mother was still wearing that, and I wanted it back.
Nothing that would keep me in the hospital, though. They did tell me I had unusually low muscle mass for someone of my age and that I should consider an exercise regime. Given that I was one of the fittest ponies in the bunker and worked out with the yaks for entertainment, I had a feeling they were joking to cheer me up.
The only real surprise I had received was that they had shaved my side to get at my wound, under the sizable bandage. Apparently, it was standard procedure. I decided I wasn't all that eager to see how it looked.
My stomach growled as we walked for the nearest private conference room we could find. I had managed to find a walking rhythm that didn't do much to aggravate my side, letting my mind drift to other problems, such as how long it had been since I last got to eat.
Two nights and one day, we had been gone. Plus another day that I had slept through since I got back, and if I remembered right, the changelings had bullied us into leaving on an evening where I slept in late and then never got breakfast. Seventy-two hours, give or take, and all I had eaten was some preserved shroomcakes I put together from the Composer's hideout's food supplies.
No wonder I had been so exhausted.
I was so tired, I didn't even care that I was out in public in only boots and a bandage. We found an empty conference room, Ansel doing most of the work, and a moment later it was reserved in our name, the four of us inside and settled down. I started digging in.
"So what's your deal with these changelings?" Ansel pressed, once Mother looked as comfortable as she usually did. "After getting dragged around the mountain range and played for fools by them time and again, I think we have a right to know."
For a moment, Mother was quiet, and I thought she might not say anything. But then, she did.
"That changeling you call Leitmotif... She was my old employer," Mother grumbled, looking at the table. "In the Empire, before Halcyon was born. We worked in the sarosian underground. Life wasn't fair for my kind out there. Everyone either wanted to fight you to make money, help you to hurt a rival or run you around to prove a point. For some of us, the law just wasn't worth living by. Everyone who lived outside the law instead... That was the underground."
I shivered, eating. Elise had mentioned something during our exile about Mother having a shady past, right? Working for a criminal enterprise? Was this that story?
"There were three reasons anyone ever joined the underground," Mother went on. "The first was by choice. They wanted some agency in their life, or they were tired of their circumstances. The second is that they were born into it, like me. Grudges in the old Empire lasted longer than lifetimes. Some fights spanned generations. My caretakers would steal by day and raise me by night. I had a choice, but no reason not to take it. Growing up and helping out was just as natural as you two toiling away in that lab."
She nodded at me and Corsica, and I understood. No one needed to tell me that our lives here in Icereach were anything but normal. The city was a tiny microcosm of a universe, and apparently the sarosian underground was one too.
Mother sighed. "The third reason was when someone was less interested in joining the underground and more interested in getting the underground to join them. Normally, it was made up of loosely organized cells that had some contact with each other, and chased their own goals under their own power. The two founders of my group - Leitmotif, and another mare - were revolutionaries. They wanted to take the underground and turn it into a power that could flip the entire continent on its head. Not just overthrow the aristocracy, but destroy their reputation enough that they could never return. Understand that Garsheeva, the Empire's goddess, wasn't all that bad to sarosiankind. The nobility were our true enemies."
Uncomfortably, I remembered this story was set in a continent that collapsed completely due to a war instigated by changelings. And this story was about Leif, who also happened to be a changeling...
"Did you know Leif was a changeling?" Corsica asked. Apparently, she was thinking the same.
"No." Mother shrugged. "But it didn't change anything. We all knew what we wanted to do. There was no deception about our motives. Anyone who helped us did so because they believed in our goals. Or because of money. That's the way we controlled the underground. Our group lifted huge amounts of money from the most corrupt of the lords. Then, we acted as financiers for the rest of the groups of outlaws. Any other groups needed resources for a plan, they came to us. If their plan furthered our goals, we backed them. Resources matter. Two decades of choosing the winners and losers, and we reshaped the entire underground in our own image."
"Only stealing from the corrupt ones, eh?" Ansel folded his forelegs. "How noble."
Mother waved her good wing. "We didn't do it because we hated them more, although I won't say we didn't. We did it because being corrupt makes you easy to steal from. Anyone who keeps poor account books to cover up their own excesses will have that much harder of a time catching what's going on. And if anyone else notices money's disappearing, they just blame it on the obvious culprit instead. Did I mention we wanted to make the lords look bad on their way out?"
Ansel scoffed. "That's so cold it's almost impressive."
"That? Stay innocent, kid." Mother shrugged. "For me, it was just the way things had always been. The founders... It was always their fight. They were the ones who had lived through our reason for that war. We talked a lot about how much better things would be once it was over, but they never wanted to look back at the way things had been before."
"Probably because they didn't really have motives," Ansel sighed. "Or if they did, they were completely different to what you thought they were. We are still talking about changelings posing as revolutionaries to weaken and destabilize a continent prior to launching an invasion, right?"
"No." Mother adamantly shook her head. "Their pain and their reasons for fighting were real. I could tell this. I'm certain of it."
Corsica tilted her head. "Even if they were really good actors?"
"I don't know how much you've heard about Mistvale arts," Mother said, lifting her good hoof. "The technique I used to paralyze Rondo when he came to capture me at my home. But it's magical, and it involves emotions. I'm not guessing when I say I could feel their determination."
"So, back when you were telling me over and over that the changelings were here for us in particular..." I swallowed, remembering how Mother had tried to spirit me away from Icereach by force. Yet another thing I'd need to unpack now that it was safe to do so... "You mean they actually were? Leif was here and looking for us?"
"I don't think so." Mother looked away. "I think they were here because she was the kind of visionary who could never be without a cause. Whatever she's fighting for now just drives her to travel. With a ship like that, she's probably been all over the world. Icereach is just one more stop on a long road, one we happened to live at. Her ideals haven't changed, though. When I talked with Vivace in the noodle shop, I got an idea of how their group functioned. I didn't know they were changelings then, but I wondered if they might have been day ponies with ties to the old underground... We weren't all sarosians."
She shook her head. "Once I realized what they were, I was certain it was her. Hearing the Composer made me even more sure. So, while all of you were running around, I went looking for my old friend. Figured it was inevitable that she'd find me out. Thought, maybe, I could talk her into leaving. Of course, it wasn't likely, given how we last parted."
Ansel nodded. "You said you were deciding whether or not to kill each other."
"What happened?" I pressed. "She betrayed you, didn't she? You found out what the changelings were really after?"
Mother gave me an owlish look. "Weren't you paying attention? We all knew all along that we were trying to overthrow the Empire, and it had nothing to do with changelings. The shape of your body doesn't make your desires any less real. Maybe if the rest of the Empire had understood that, none of this would have happened... None of us ever wanted to hide what we were fighting for." She slowed down, took a deep breath and sighed. "No. I betrayed them."
All of us listened, tense.
"It wasn't their fault," Mother said. "Beneath all the plans and all the ideals, what they believed was that if we succeeded, their pain would finally go away. That was what drove them, no matter how much they dressed it up. But me? I never felt it the same way they did. I knew what the Empire had done to us, but I hadn't lived through it. I knew what they believed in, but I didn't believe in it because I didn't need to. They wanted a meaning for their pain. I didn't share that pain, and wanted a meaning for our struggle to find that meaning. I kept looking, and... I don't know. It looks stupid in hindsight. All I really did was take a chance on there being something out there to take a chance on."
My ears pressed back. That was how I felt every hour of every day. And even more strongly, now that so many miracles had come to my rescue. Taking a chance that there was something more that was out there...
"They were nothing if not dedicated to the cause," Mother went on. "Sometimes, there would be opportunities to hang up our swords and take a chance on a better life. We always refused. They saw it as dedication. I saw it as the way things just happened to be. We couldn't stop because it was just the way things were. Eventually, I started questioning that, and... Well, it's been another two decades. Almost as long since I ruined our plans as we spent making them. Both of us thought the other was dead. Figured it was time the two of us talked. Thought maybe I could put to rest some ghosts that have been haunting me for as long as you've been alive."
None of us knew what to say.
"Here." Mother punted my bracelet across the table to me, and I caught it and tucked it away. "After we parted ways, I figured I'd take something worth living for and go... live. Feels like it was less than a week between then and everything going up in flames. Sure made my decision meaningless. Then I decided I'd fight until the end for what I'd chosen, and that something turned out to be you. Eventually got us here." She shook her head. "Apparently, Leif did the same. She's still fighting. Asked me to join her, even. Still clinging to the same ideals she used to justify our war an entire generation ago. Probably means she's still running from the same pain as she was back then. Wish I knew how to help her. But if neither of us have changed, that just means both of us are the same."
"What happened to her?" I asked. "What was so bad it could start all this? I know changelings are people too, but you make it sound like what she was didn't even factor into it."
"Her mother died." Mother shrugged. "It involved government negligence. Not the most dazzling story, but stories don't need to be dazzling to be real. She just had that special something it took to chase her grudge and never let it go."
Her mother? I had guessed before that changelings must have already existed, blended into society long before the great war. This only served to confirm that.
When I first learned about the changelings' role in that war, I imagined them as a kind of outside, singular force, more like an individual being than a people. Or even a natural disaster, like a storm or avalanche that just simply happened. But the more Mother talked about them as people with goals who worked to achieve them, the more that image melted, like streaks of wax running down the side of a candle.
Ironic, considering I already thought of Aldebaran as ponies. I remembered sitting in the hideout during our exile, listening to Ansel argue with Elise about how they deserved to be treated...
Had Leif started the war? Helped to start it? Mother didn't say. She hadn't told us the outcome of her treachery, or even what it entailed. Some sense told me that the story was not over. Another sense told me it wasn't going to be finished any time soon.
Mother quickly confirmed it, standing up and leaving her food tray. "I'm out," she confirmed, heading for the door. "Too much talking. Need to go clear my head. Elise wanted to see you three in Graygarden's office, don't forget. Aldebaran are all under lock and key, but if you want to know more, maybe someone would let you talk to them..."
I swallowed. She was gone.
Me, Ansel and Corsica were alone in a conference room, empty food trays pushed to the side. One of the lights flickered. I wasn't at ease.
"Sounds like... Mother was kind of important in the Empire?" I managed, trying to start a conversation. "Or at least was involved in things?"
"That's one word for it." Ansel adjusted his forelegs. "Sounds to me like... Never mind. I've got some stuff to think about, is all."
"You wanna think about it out loud?" I offered, gesturing with a hoof. "Might help."
He raised an eyebrow. "You first."
I shrugged, deciding to trust my mouth with what was on my mind. "I dunno whether to believe her," I began. "About any of the stuff she said. On the one hoof, it sounds impossible. On the other, so does what we did the last three days. And who's to say it didn't all happen that way? Not like we know any better about what the east was really like. And I don't really have any reason to distrust her. But, most importantly, if I decide not to believe her, I don't... have to deal with any of that. I know batponies probably have it rough, out there in the rest of the world. But if I say I believe Mother that all this happened and felt normal and necessary, it'll... I dunno. It'll make it feel more final. I've already given up on traveling, if this is what happens when we try. But my kind having it bad enough for them to do that... I don't want to have any more reasons to make it feel like giving up is the right idea."
"Tough to let go of your dreams, eh?" Ansel nodded. "I can't say I'm glad I was right, but I did say there would be nothing out there for us but misery and heartache. Such a pity I wasn't proven wrong."
I looked sideways at him. "You sound almost disappointed. Wasn't this what you wanted? For us to stay home safe and sound?"
"In one sense, it was." Ansel thumped a dejected hoof against the table. "But who likes being afraid of the dark? I was being a big baby, trying to pretend the future didn't exist and the world could stay exactly the way it was now, forever. Deep down, I must have always known I wouldn't be able to hold you here forever. What I really wanted was for you to show me I was afraid of nothing."
"Oh." I looked away. "Yeah."
Ansel took a deep, deep breath. "I've been thinking about it ever since things quieted down, and here's what gets me the most about all this: not that we got jumped, but that we did everything right. There shouldn't have been any steps more baby than an overnight research trip that was vetted and approved by the Icereach top brass. It was even run by some folks they knew and had a long history with. And that still turned out rotten because our fearless leaders who were vouching for them weren't actually the real ones. How are you supposed to predict that? How do you prepare? I was angry before because of how unfair it was, and I still am, but... maybe staying safe and sound at home for the rest of our lives just doesn't work. I've asked you to make a lot of sacrifices toward that end, and... what if it's all for nothing? If we lived on the road, maybe we could outrun our problems instead of hunkering down and hoping they don't smell our fear."
I gave him a funny look. "Are you saying that shindig made you want to go traveling? Get out."
"I know it sounds counter-intuitive," Ansel admitted, shrugging. "But face it. Staying home and doing nothing wouldn't have fixed any of that, even assuming we had a choice. First off, those changelings came here with the explicit goal of bagging Corsica and anyone close enough to her to realize they had a fake. If we hadn't gotten dragged away on their ship, we would have wound up bound and gagged in a closet somewhere, and need I remind you we did turn them down and decide to stay home and they carted us off anyway? And even if it hadn't been us they were here for, these past few days have been a hair-raising experience for the entire bunker. The fact is, staying home and sticking our heads in the ground doesn't work. This will inevitably happen again, be it in a month or a year or two decades or five. So if staying put doesn't work, I feel I can be forgiven for contemplating the alternatives."
I hadn't really thought at all about how to stop this from happening again. That would have been like pausing to take a class in avalanche avoidance when I should have been carrying my unconscious friends home. Or even more pointless, because Ansel was right that there was nothing we could have done.
"Well, maybe someday," I said, shaking my head. My side didn't hurt so much now that I had eaten some food. "But for now, I think I need my life to go back to a nice long stretch of normal. What we went through... How do you just walk it off? Feels like it's gonna take some time."
"Time works," Corsica chimed in. "Take my word for it. Give me a week or two, and I'll be as rude and sassy as ever."
"Beautiful," Ansel told her, then focused on me. "But, Hallie, I don't even know if there is a normal to return to. You can't put an illusion back together again once it's shattered. My old normal involved putting my hooves over my ears and pretending everything was fine, and apparently that just gets us... well, somehow not killed, but close enough to give me a heart attack. And now I don't know what to do with myself. Keep working part-time to buy groceries for mother dearest? Lounge around and tell others this is the life when I know it isn't? I have no plans, no goals, nothing to do with myself! It feels like I've had my future stolen away, but the truth is I've just woken up to how I was pretending it didn't exist in the first place."
My thoughts drifted to the chapel, to the myriad miracles that had saved me last night, to the thing I thought I remembered meeting down there two years ago, and to the mural in the cave the Composer had wanted to see. If Ansel was directionless, I had too much purpose and not enough time.
"Wonder if this is the first time we've ever felt the same way about something." Corsica looked away, her mane still limp but her ear ornaments back where they belonged. "I... Never mind."
"Come on," I encouraged. "You can trust us. We've all gotta trust someone, after Aldebaran's trickery. Besides, me and Ansel just shared what's on our minds."
Corsica just sighed.
"Look, you got to see my legs, right?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "Remember in the hideout when you said you'd tell me what was getting you down if I showed you why I hid them?"
Corsica frowned. "That's..."
"Eh, if she doesn't want to party, we can let her be." Ansel waved a hoof. "Although I am curious. Both of you always talk about how everything changed, two years ago. Hallie especially, but you know. Who's to say we can't come out of this different too? In a good way, like last time."
I nodded. "Please?"
"Fine," Corsica growled. "But this doesn't leave this room, you hear? I have... motivation issues. When I get stressed, I stop caring. When I get frustrated, I stop caring. If I care about something too much, it's like I use up all the care I have to give. Which is too bad, because I've got skills and could get just about whatever I wanted if I could be bothered to try. Right now? There's not a goal in this world that looks worth aiming for, and it's all because your sorry butt had to chase me into that storm. If I didn't have to worry about you being in Icereach, I could've... I'd..."
She glowered at me, and I scooted backwards.
"Some genius I am," Corsica grumbled. "Good enough to run off a windigo. Can't make myself care enough to apply it. What kind of a problem is that? Gotta keep everyone at length, just so I don't get too attached and tire myself out. The real reason I've been working with Halcyon this long on ether crystals is that she's passionate enough about it for both of us. She gives the drive, I just put in work. It's a life, I guess."
I stared at her. She had to be overexaggerating, right? She cared about me. I knew she did. Why else would she get upset for my own sake when I fudged the submission of that fault plane paper? Why would she try so hard to get me to lighten up, to look out for me and drag me up to the yaks when she thought I was being silly?
But, if this was how she felt right now... then her issue was definitely real. And it explained so much about her, like how all the things I'd normally get bothered by just seemed to slide off of her. It wasn't that she was more sensible, or had a thicker skin, or had a concrete reason to believe that worry was pointless and everything would be alright. It was just because she couldn't afford to care.
Yet again, I had what my friend was missing. As jealous as I was of her, maybe she saw me the same. I had to do something about that.
"So, Ludwig said you put a death curse on it. Him. You called it a him, right?" I glanced at Corsica.
She stiffened. "I convinced him I did. Clearly, I didn't, or he'd be dead. You really think I know any death curses?"
"No, I've got a feeling I know why he went along with it," I said, addressing the whole table. "Hear me out, because this is going to get crazy: I think there really was something destiny-ing us to succeed. Or, at least, to stay alive. And I bet Ludwig knew about it."
Corsica looked afraid. Ansel looked skeptical, but curious.
I didn't stop to analyze their reactions. "Ludwig thought he could convince me that your death curse was real. He probably wanted me to take evidence from a different phenomenon and apply it to mistrusting you, or wondering if you had crazy superpowers. But there was evidence. I dunno about you two, but I had a good three separate miracles come to my rescue last night, without any of which I'd be completely screwed. It can't have been a coincidence. Ludwig must have known I'd want a reason for how we all made it out of that alive, and that I'd be looking for answers. Too bad for him, I..." I swallowed, about to talk about something I had never told another living pony.
"I think I know where it's really coming from." I looked around, meeting their eyes. "These miracles and coincidences that put me in a spot where, if I really wanted to, I could have tried to kill a windigo. Two years ago-"
"Hold up," Ansel interrupted, banging the table. "You think there actually was something you could do to that fiend? Like what? And if so, why didn't you pull it out at any of the myriad opportunities we had earlier?"
"Long story, I'll get to that later." I waved him off and hoped he would eventually forget, feeling vaguely like the room was rotating around me. "So, two years ago, before either of you woke up from your comas, I went down to the chapel because I didn't know what else to do. And I met something there. It... started with this pressure that I felt in my heart. And then there was a wave, like something invisible was passing, only when it touched the ether crystals, they reflected this incredible light. And... then... it stopped. And it asked me my name."
I swallowed. "We... talked. Must have only been a few seconds. I don't remember it well. But I asked for help. And it was only an hour or two between there and when you two woke up."
"Now that beggars belief," Ansel said. "I was following Mother's story, but this really happened?"
"That was a date that lined up with a fault plane forming," Corsica said. "If that's true, wouldn't you think it was important to tell me that? Why would you keep that to yourself?"
I looked down. "Because I didn't know if it was real. I'm... good at lying to myself, sometimes. You know how we used to be, two years back, me pretending to be your friend. And I wasn't in a good place. Maybe I hallucinated, and made it up. I remember it less well than you'd think I would, if it was that important to me. Like it's not all there in my head. I really wanted it to be real, but I didn't trust myself. So, I started researching the chapel because I wanted to find proof that what I'd seen was actually out there."
Both of my friends looked at me a little bit more seriously.
"The fault plane dating was a major breakthrough," I went on. "It was proof that something really did happen on that day. I might still be misremembering or embellishing, but there was at least an event to embellish. What I really want is to meet that wave again. To... say thank you, for fixing my life. I've never seen another thing like it down there, though I always go there to study in part because I hope it'll happen again. Now, though... Just over this last week, I've started to think I have enough proof to say it conclusively happened. All these miracles, the fact that we're here and normal and still alive, they're proof that something is out there and watching our backs. It's fate. It's the thing the chapel was made to worship. And it's what I want to find."
I turned to Corsica. "You don't need to care, because someone else already cares about you. The light in the chapel will make sure it's alright, yeah? It was looking out for us back then, and if it can wake you from a coma, I'm sure it could steer us through last night, as well. So, err, take it easy."
Doing this made me feel incredibly self-conscious, but it somehow felt right, as well. I turned to Ansel. "You don't have anything better to do with yourself? Feel like you need a purpose? Why not help me find what I'm looking for?"
An impossible mix of emotions ran across Corsica's face, and she looked deeply shaken. Ansel still looked skeptical, but now properly intrigued. "So that's what you've really been up to, these last two years in the lab? Searching for this light ghost? And you're saying you think you could have bashed in a windigo just because you had it pulling for you, then and there?"
I shrugged. That was a convenient interpretation, since it meant I didn't have to talk about my bracelet... "Well, yeah."
"Hmm." Ansel rubbed his chin. "I'll be honest, chum: I don't buy it. You were right about your mental health back then, and if you ask me, everything else seems like a pretty clear case of confirmation bias. Anyway, got anything a lab rookie like me can do to help out?"
"Help out?" I blinked. "Getting some conflicting messages, here."
Ansel waved a hoof. "Eh, it's not like I have anything better to do with my time. Just because I think it's balderdash doesn't mean it might not be fun. Besides, you and me need to hang out more if I didn't even know about your biggest life goal."
I gave him an earnest smile. "Thanks."
"Right then!" He stretched. "First order of business; what's this sparkly phantasm's name? Can't go on a hunt for a mythical whatsit without having something to call it by."
"I..." I had never stopped to consider that. I was fairly sure it hadn't told me, though my memories were hazy... "Beats me."
"Better think up one quick," Ansel threatened, "or I'll be forced to coin it myself."
Names, names... I thought about names, and remembered how the Composer had been most interested in that illegible signature on the mural in the chapel. Wait, the mural!
"Actually, hold that thought," I interrupted. "There's one other thing..."
I gave them a rundown of my time in the chapel's secret area, brought out the keystone for all to see, and talked extensively about how I remembered the mural. Ansel was intrigued. Corsica, predictably, didn't care.
"I'd definitely be down to give it a look-see," Ansel said when I was finished. "Speaking of, didn't Mother say Elise wanted us in Graygarden's office? If you stole the key from there, I hope this isn't about her wanting it back. Feels like access to that place will be important for our cause."
I nodded, grateful for his enthusiasm and support. It felt just a little like he was trying to compensate for his rampant pessimism during our exile, and maybe for being a killjoy about travel before that, but it was working. Ansel always seemed to know, emotionally, what I needed.
"Yeah." I got to my hooves, still being mindful of my side - though it was somehow feeling much better now that I had eaten. "Hey, after all we've been though, Elise owes us a favor or three. Let's go see what she wants."
We didn't go straight to the administrative wing. Partly, it was because I wanted to go home and pick up a not-shredded coat to wear - the bandage didn't hide my talent, and I wasn't in a mood to answer questions from ponies who wondered why my flank was adorned with an upside-down crown. Partly, it was because I wanted to see how my house had fared amid the fighting and an explosion. But, mostly, it was because I had found a way to walk that didn't make my side hurt, and I needed time to think.
I couldn't believe what I had just told Corsica and Ansel. Everything that had happened with Aldebaran, everything that had happened with Ludwig... All that was over and done with. But giving voice to my greatest goal and hope for the future? There was a lot more I could have said, of course, but I was no longer the sole steward of what I thought I had seen in the chapel.
It didn't make my memories any clearer. There was still a fog about them, one that slowed my thoughts and caused them to break down when I concentrated too hard, one I commonly associated with things that were locked behind my mask, not meant for this version of me to know. And that worried me, because this was the kind of thing I wanted to be true, and thus might convince myself was true, and this was a sign that at the very least I wasn't telling myself the whole truth... But I knew the fault plane formation lined up with the day I had been down there, and I knew my luck had been too miraculous last night to write off as a coincidence. I had been wimpy. I made it all the way to Icereach and then did nothing. And yet... everything still worked out.
Clearly, it was fate.
We reached my house. Darius the yak was guarding the door.
"Yo," he greeted when he saw us, saluting with a hoof. "Up and about already?"
Darius was the only yak in the entire city who had learned to use pony grammar. He was also one of the smallest, definitely the suavest, and might even have been the only one to use a mirror. He did things with his hair beyond mere braids, at least. My heart rose a little to see him unscathed.
"Sorta." I grinned and winced at the same time. "What are you doing here?"
"Warding off curious neighbors, and letting in the repair crew when they arrive." Darius shrugged. "Hey, have you been to see Elise yet? She told everyone to tell you to meet her in Graygarden's office if we saw you. I think she wanted to talk about where you'll be staying, since your pad here is messed up."
Oh. Well, that was a sensible reason to want to see us. I shook my head. "Nah. I was hoping to make myself a little more presentable first?"
Darius shrugged, moving over to let me in. "Okay. Just watch your step! Though with those boots, you'll probably be fine..."
I walked inside, Corsica and Ansel hanging back to let me go alone. The place was... not quite as bad as I had imagined, but still bad. Where the Composer had exploded, the ground was jagged and scarred, the way concrete gets when it's weather-worn where you can see smaller stones sticking out amid rough, broken grout. The damage didn't go deeper than an inch or two, but it was enough to cover most of the floor in dust and shards that had been blown this way and that. There was also dried blood - I remembered two yaks jumping on the Composer at the last second, and thankfully also remembered hearing no one had died.
The couch was probably the worst off; it had been hit in the back and side by shrapnel spikes like the one that impaled me. We'd need a new one, for sure... Between its back and the wall, I saw where I must have landed when I was hit. There was... quite a lot of blood there too. Had I really lost that much? The nurse told me my wound was small!
Or maybe I just had no experience with what constituted 'a lot'. I was a scientist, not a doctor...
I avoided the patch, took a breath and shadow snuck into my room. Everything was exactly as it should be.
...Except my coat. The one that had been shredded was Rondo's backup. The one I had left here was the one I had worn through the blizzard, and I never properly hung it to dry.
I groaned, remembering how close I had gotten to catching cold after my shenanigans and adding that to the list of miracles from the previous night. Soon, my coat was hung properly, but that still left me with the issue of having nothing to wear. Come on, there had to be something around here...
"You know," Ansel told me as we walked, "usually they say I'm the one with the resemblance. But kick that exhausted vibe up a notch or two and I swear you'll look just like her."
"No," I replied, strolling down the hallways of the administrative wing in one of Mother's bathrobes. "I don't have the dye job, I don't have... Actually, I do have the limp, don't I...?"
I was too tired to be self-conscious about how bad I looked, which was funny because I usually kept a bad sense of style on purpose to make ponies think I wasn't worth talking to. Same effect, different reasons... Was this how Corsica felt about things, when she said she had trouble coming up with the motivation to care?
At least Ansel was doing good enough to joke about the way I looked. Odds were, he was covering something up, but I had a feeling that was normal for him. Maybe it wasn't a perfect normal, but any normal right now was a normal I needed.
We reached Graygarden's door, and I reached up to knock. Immediately, I reminded myself how hurt my side was.
Corsica gave me a flat look as I winced and held myself. "I'll get it..."
"Come in," Graygarden's voice called when she knocked.
All of us looked at each other in slight surprise, but then we did as he asked.
Head Scientist Graygarden's reception room looked much as I had seen it last, trashed by changelings combing it for evidence of something, yet not fully vandalized. The painting of him was back on the wall, at least, and the stallion himself sat behind his desk, pushing aside some papers in his orange aura and turning his attention to us. Elise sat on a chair next to his desk, reading what looked like a novel.
"Hey, I thought you were deposed," I said, speaking before I could think.
"I got better," Graygarden grunted, his voice as tired and dusty as always. He sounded a lot like I felt.
"Halcyon," Elise greeted, closing her book, her aura back to normal instead of the multicolored flames she had been using the previous night. "I'm glad to see you well. Thank you, all of you, for coming." She bowed.
Corsica glanced at both of them. "So what's up? Hope it's nothing big, because I could hibernate right about now."
"It's quite a lot of things," Elise replied, floating out a familiar satchel and hovering it toward me. "First, though, I recovered this while leading a search of Aldebaran's airship. I believe it belongs to you."
My stuff! I took it gingerly, opening it to check the contents. The inertial stabilizer rotor was still there? Elise raised an eyebrow at me as I looked, implying she would be curious as to how I got such a thing.
"We also found your luggage from the initial trip, or what of it hadn't been plundered." Elise nodded at the side door that lead to the reserve waiting room. "You'll be welcome to it once we're done here."
"Alright, enough lollygagging," Ansel said, taking a step forward. "I know you like your itinerary, but I've got some questions. First off, what happened to those goons after they got arrested?"
"They're being held by the yaks in a secure location," Graygarden responded. "No, you can't know where it is. They've been asking after you, and it's very likely if we allowed you any contact, they'd try to manipulate you somehow. So we're going to keep them off the map until we can figure out what to do with them."
I huffed, mindful of my side. Odds were, they were thinking about that research paper I had walked in on them complaining about. Now that Ludwig was gone and we were okay, they probably wanted to be friends again for real. I still didn't know how I felt about them, but Graygarden had a point and I was too tired to take any risks on them again right now either way. If only we could have just worked together honestly from the beginning...
"I recognize that you have a lot of questions, we we will get to them in due time," Elise said, lighting her horn and picking up a sheaf of papers from the desk. "But, first, we have something more important to give you: a formal apology. As the leaders of Icereach, it was our job to keep this city as a safe place for children like you to learn and grow. The reasons and circumstances are irrelevant. We have failed you. And we are sorry."
She bowed. Graygarden grunted in assent, and then followed suit.
I didn't know what to say.
"What's this?" Ansel raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you the one telling me only the other day there was nothing anyone could have done? Didn't expect this out of you now."
Elise nodded. "I said what was appropriate in the moment, when you were blaming yourself and morale was in short supply. Now that we are safe and have put our tribulations behind us, it is the time for accountability. Whether or not there was anything that could be done is beside the point. We were in charge. We are responsible."
Again, Graygarden bowed his head.
"If only words could undo what's been done," Ansel sighed.
I glanced at him, and then back to Elise and Graygarden. "Yeah. I appreciate it, but our house is kind of trashed, now. We don't need an apology, we need some help getting back to normal."
"At the very least," Corsica added.
"All will be taken care of in due time," Elise promised. "Do not worry. However, we've prepared something additional beyond repairing the damage you've suffered. Please." She floated the papers out to us.
Ansel and Corsica leaned in, and I got a look. It was... "The fault plane research paper?"
"You've been requesting resources for your work for a while now," Graygarden said, folding his forehooves on his desk. "I still don't see this going anywhere profitable, but..." He gave Elise a reserved look. "Some things are more important than that. We'll have to talk specifics, but consider your request granted."