“What?” yelled the younger. “No way, not happening!”
“It has to,” declared the mare’s older half. “We are dying. Furthermore, my personality, my very being was created and molded by the great houses. I am no more real than this room is.”
“You are real!” shouted the other. “I’ve seen your memories. I know what you’ve been through. You're not just some caricature of me, you are me.”
“Hogwash,” Rarity retorted. “I am a puppet, a pawn, and I will not endanger the true Rarity all because she is acting like a foal.”
The smaller of the two gaped in shock, glancing expectantly over at Twilight, hoping that the other mare may be able to offer some words of assistance. The infested unicorn didn't notice the shift in attention or the conversation itself as she stared off into the distance. Her gaze was intense, yet unfocused, as if Twilight was studying the seemingly blank wall for some hidden secret.
“That doesn't mean you aren't real,” the younger Rarity replied. “We were duped by the great houses and both turned into something awful against our will.”
The other pony scoffed. “I hardly think that's equatable. I got to live our life free of control, while you languished in some hellish void without any company save for the ponies imprisoned alongside you.”
“But you were forced to serve the houses, unknowingly or not, you were a slave to them. At least in that stupid prison thingy I could think for myself!” exclaimed the smaller of the two.
“This is not some sort of suffering competition, you know. You are real, I am fake. Thus you deserve your body and your life,” Rarity stated in a firm tone.
“We both deserve to be free, to have the lives we want, and to live how we want. Neither of us deserve death,” retorted the other.
“If Twilight is unwilling to end me, then I will find a way to do so myself!” Rarity declared, glaring hard at her counterpart.
“And if you do it, then I will do it too!” shouted her other half.
“That would mean my entire death would be in vain!” Rarity scoffed.
“I don't care!”
“Stop,” Twilight commanded, turning back to the pair. “You are both being ridiculous.”
“I am not!” the two Rarity’s shouted in unison.
Twilight merely raised an eyebrow and waited until they both wilted under her gaze and fell back to the bed.
“Okay, maybe we were being a bit silly, but that doesn't mean my points were any less salient,” the elder of the two declared.
“I don't know what salt has to do with this, but you’re wrong,” retorted the other.
“The entire premise is flawed,” Twilight interrupted, stepping up to the end of the bed. “You can no longer be separated without both dying.”
“Bwuh?” the younger Rarity muttered.
“How is that possible?” demanded the older.
“It's simple. Your minds have both essentially taken over or split the responsibility for certain unconscious actions that your brain naturally does,” Twilight declared. “Such as breathing, using magic, and other more active things like just being able to walk properly.”
“So Rarity has to learn how to walk again, or go on a breathing tube for a while. So what?” asked the older mare.
“You don't get it. The mind is one part physical and one part magical. You can't just cut it out of a body without some serious ramifications. Your heart could just stop beating, for one,” Twilight explained.
“Duh. Even I knew that,” the younger remarked.
“But I thought we were two pieces of a larger whole. Shouldn't we fit together, in essence?” Rarity pressed.
Twilight shook her head. “It's not like that. You two have… You know, I’ve never been very good with metaphors, so I’ll just show you.”
The walls of the room fell open before disappearing into the earth which rose up from nowhere. On it stood a small flat expanse of bright green grass as well as a single sapling that was only a foot in height.
“This is you at the point that you went to the houses,” Twilight declared, pointing to the young tree. “This represents your memories, personality, everything. Now this is what they did to you, as far as I’ve been able to gather.”
The two Rarity’s sat and watched as a knife appeared out of nowhere and lopped nearly the entire tree off, leaving behind only a clean wound stretching several inches in length. The tree struggled to repair itself. Thankfully it had help, as a leafy branch cut from a slightly darker sapling had appeared and was swiftly grafted in its place.
The part that had been amputated was then planted alongside the first, the two trees swiftly growing into their own. Though one was larger, the removed segment had somehow managed to sprout new roots, and had survived. While its counterpart grew large, and the two halves meshed together, the smaller stubbornly continued to grow, albeit at a slower rate.
“There,” Twilight declared, gesturing to the trees. “Now do you see?”
“I don't get it,” muttered the younger Rarity.
“Though we were the same person at one point, we have both grown beyond that,” remarked the elder. “See how the small tree has sprouted new branches, and has roots of its own? That's you.”
“So the big one with the weird multi-colored trunk is you then?” replied the other.
“Exactly,” Twilight interrupted. “You are both your own people. The smaller continued on, while the first tree has melded with the graft, becoming something unique.”
“And you got all that by staring at a wall for a few seconds?” deadpanned the younger one.
“It's actually been a half hour,” Twilight retorted.
The two Rarity’s shared a strained look before glancing back at Twilight expectantly.
“So… Is there any way of surviving this?” asked the younger one.
“I don't know,” Twilight admitted with a sigh. “Earlier when you mentioned having too much magic, you were more right than you knew. On top of this whole two personalities thing, you also have two souls.”
“Which means two wellsprings,” concluded the older mare.
“That's bad, right?” asked the smaller Rarity.
“It is,” Twilight answered. “Two complete souls have never survived within the same body before, and even the blackest of magic cannot fix this issue.”
“But I swear that I’ll come up with something,” Twilight quickly added. “All of this power must be capable of doing some good, after all.”
The Rarity’s exchanged a knowing look, a silent conversation passing between them.
“Twilight,” murmured the older one in a soft tone. “You have already done so much for us and the others. If you draw yourself any thinner, you’ll be two dimensional.”
“Yeah, we can handle it,” added the younger.
“This isn't up for debate,” Twilight declared. “I will help you whether you like it or not.”
“It's not up to you, Twilight,” began one.
“We will save ourself,” finished the other.
Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but found herself unceremoniously dumped back into her own body. Immediately her eyes flew open, and she looked over to find that Rarity appeared to be asleep, a wide smile on her face.
“Stars above,” Twilight cursed. “This isn't something you can cure with stubbornness alone.”
The other unicorn remained silent, her breathing strong and her body twitching every few seconds.
“I’ll save you,” Twilight whispered. “I promise.”
The infested pony then turned and walked into the hallway, leaving Rarity alone in the now quiet room. Seconds ticked by at a slow, pendulous pace with little to break the silence save for Rarity’s breathing and the distant sound of a fan. Then she cracked a single eye open and glanced at the door Twilight had disappeared through a minute earlier.
“And we will fix ourselves, all on our own,” she muttered before turning her head and closing her eyes once more.
“Did you have to be so stern with that nurse?” Steel Heart asked rather gruffly.
“No,” Twilight admitted. “Rarity’s circumstances have put a strain on what little patience I had left.” She sighed. “I’ll make sure to apologize later when she delivers Rarity to the barracks.”
Steel Heart nodded. “See to it that you do. I haven't seen her around much myself, but she sure seemed like the nice sort.”
“I will,” Twilight declared. “So, getting back on topic. Were you able to arrange a meeting with this Edmund Duke person?”
Steel Heart perked up. “Yes, actually. He was rather interested in meeting you and offered to do so at your earliest convenience. Mentioned something about keeping his schedule clear for you.”
“That's a start,” Twilight muttered, her gaze drifting up to the top of the elevator and the line of numbers that slowly counted down. “Where exactly is he anyway?”
“That's just it. He said he’d find you and--” Steel Heart’s explanation was cut off when the doors opened, and a tall, grizzled minotaur stood in the opening. “Well, would you look at that. Twilight, this is Edmund Duke, Major general of the Confederate Army.”
The minotaur merely nodded at the pair, the barest hint of a smile gracing his aged features. “It is good to see the old bat’s protege isn't just a horn,” he exclaimed in a cold, yet not insulting manner. “Got an impressive height on ya too. Musta been that crazy diet she mentioned the last time we spoke.”
Twilight was temporarily taken aback by the elderly minotaur’s appearance, as well as the odd haze which hung over him. Though not physical, this miasma seemed to obscure his thoughts and hide his emotions from the infested despite her best efforts.
“Don't bother tryin’ to get a read on me,” he remarked, tapping a gloved knuckle across his mostly hairless head. “Got my head cracked open during the guild wars of forty-three. Had to bolt a plate of steel over the hole to keep my brains from pouring out.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “I apologize. I was merely caught off guard. I assumed we would meet somewhere private.”
“I’m a busy man. Not even Tia’s protege can take much of my time,” Edmund declared, gesturing down the hall. “Now we best get moving. Don't want to hold up the elevator all day, now do we?”
“And myself, sir?” Steel Heart inquired.
“Do what you please, engineer,” replied the minotaur before abruptly turning around and walking down the hall.
Twilight quickly trotted after him, her mind still grappling with his odd appearance and strange impression. Not being able to read even the loudest of surface thoughts or most potent of emotions had certainly put her on the back hoof. Not only that, but Twilight had never seen the old minotaur before, yet he was apparently quite familiar with Celestia.
He also wore what looked like an old breastplate with a tall rigid collar overtop of a thick, heavy red coat. His legs were similarly covered with crimson garb, though his hooves remained unadorned by the boots Twilight had assumed she would see. The only small bit of decoration were the four gold stars seemingly welded to a part of his armor that covered his throat.
Though likely an utterly massive and no doubt impressively strong specimen in his prime, Edmund Duke had seen better days. The slight limp he had in his right leg would be unnoticed by most casual observers, but Twilight was not most people. She could also see that his horns had been carefully cut down to little more than flat nubs on either side of his balding head, leaving only the many wrinkles and his thick, prominent brow to serve as landmarks on his scarred face.
“Well, ya gonna look at me all day, or are you going to tell me what this is about?” Edmund barked, glancing briefly over to Twilight.
“I want my friends released,” Twilight replied without hesitation. “I will not suffer their containment for even a moment longer.”
The minotaur paused and looked down at the mare, his gaze narrowing dangerously, or at least Twilight assumed as much. Without any thoughts to read or emotions to gleam, Twilight was forced to rely on plain old intuition when figuring him out. Yet there wasn't much to go on, as Edmund Duke’s expression was stern, but beyond that, unreadable.
So Twilight merely returned the same look of determination, hoping that this was some simple stare down and that responding in kind was the correct response. Together they peered intently at one another for several quiet seconds, Steel Heart merely standing nearby, confused and slightly nervous.
“The eggheads tell me that they could turn on us the second a queen comes in range of the base. Can you guarantee that won't happen?” Edmund Duke half asked, half declared.
“For that to happen, they would need to kill me first,” Twilight retorted.
“That wasn't a yes,” Edmund Duke replied.
“Yes,” Twilight shot back.
Edmund Duke nodded slowly. “Then they’ll be released the second I get back to my office and give the word. It's good to know that my gut was right, and that my science officer was wrong.”
“What did they recommend?” Twilight asked.
“Emil recommended vivisection, experimentation, and all kinds of bloody nonsense,” Edmund Duke barked, turning back and resuming his swift, steady pace. “The lad’s brilliant, but I think losing his family to the zerg knocked something loose in that head of his.”
Twilight nearly stumbled for a second. “That's… horrible.”
“That's what I said,” Edmund Duke replied. “Figured if we put enough steel and concrete over their heads that it wouldn't be an issue.”
Steel Heart subtly breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders falling slack.
Twilight, meanwhile, was at odds with herself, unsure if she should trust the strange minotaur, or if this was all some kind of game. Not being able to confirm his intentions left Twilight uncertain of herself, though his tone and body language seemed to indicate he was sincere. Regardless of whether or not his words were true, Twilight had gotten what she wanted, and without bloodshed no less.
“They will not be a problem,” Twilight stated.
“Good. I’d rather not waste a potential asset,” Edmund Duke exclaimed. “Stones know we need more people we can count on around here.”
“Well, if your ultimate plan is to unseat the Nightmare and save the world, then you can count on me,” Twilight replied.
Edmund Duke nodded while he strode down the hall, turning abruptly down a side passage. “That's exactly what I want to hear. Though I warn you, as long as I live and breathe, we are not putting Celestia back on that throne.”
This time Twilight really did stumble for a moment before quickly catching back up with the minotaur. “What do you mean? She’s the only reason we even have a fighting chance,” Twilight exclaimed.
“And she's also the whole damn reason we’re in this mess,” Edmund Duke declared. “Generational wealth and power creates a class of people fundamentally disengaged from the general populace. The noble system is flawed at its very core, and preserving such a hierarchy is antithesis to the principles of freedom that this confederacy was founded on.”
Twilight gaped silently, glancing over to Steel Heart for help.
“He's a man of principle,” Steel Heart whispered.
“Don't get me wrong, I ain't knocking old fire pants. I’d vote for her in a heartbeat, but the organizational structure of the Equestrian government will need to be rebuilt from the ground up,” Edmund Duke continued, his voice gaining the edge of a lecturer. “After experiencing a true meritocracy, without the pressures of xenophobia, no one here would consent to be ruled by a select group of plutocrats.”
“You taught philosophy, didn't you?” Twilight asked.
The minotaur smirked, though he never looked away from his destination. “A bull can't stay a mercenary forever. The job will either kill you, or kill your mind. Either way, you’ll be a worthless slab of meat, the only difference is if you’ll still be twitching or not.”
“The Žižek Institute for Higher Learning in Little Rock, right?” Twilight continued.
This time it was Edmund Duke’s turn to pause and glance appreciatively at his conversation partner. “That's impressive. Not many ponies care to learn about our particular brand of philosophy, or where it's taught,” Edmund Duke exclaimed.
“Knowledge comes from many places,” Twilight declared.
“That it does,” Edmund Duke agreed. “But enough talk about the future. We must secure the present before we can even have a hope of creating a more equal and equitable society.”
“What can I do to help?” Twilight offered as the trio entered into another indoor train station.
Edmund Duke stopped just as he was about to pass through the only open door on the small machine. “The council is meeting tomorrow evening to discuss the progress we’ve made against the zerg threat. I want you to be there,” he declared, jabbing a gnarled finger into Twilight’s chest.
“I will,” Twilight replied.
“See to it that you are. There will be some who disapprove of your presence, but I don't rightly care about their opinion. Yours, on the other hand? Well, yours is unique and valuable,” Edmund Duke declared. “Too many of us are coming at our problems like this is just another conflict, but you know better than that, don't you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“That I do,” Twilight exclaimed.
“Be at the bridge, five A.M. sharp. No lollygagging, now ya hear?” he barked.
Twilight nodded confidently.
Then the minotaur turned and disappeared into the car, the door slamming shut behind him. A second later, the engine began to whir as the train departed the station and went down the dark narrow tunnel.
“Whew, that was intense,” Steel Heart murmured.
“Is he always so… commanding? I could barely get my mouth to utter more than a few words at a time,” Twilight muttered, watching the train slip into the gloom and vanish around a bend.
“Edmund certainly has a unique way with words,” Steel Heart mused. “You can't help but feel like a babe when you’re talking to him.”
“No kidding,” Twilight remarked. “It was almost like Celestia was giving me another lesson.”
Steel Heart erupted with laughter and clasped the other mare around the shoulders. “Don't go telling him that. Being the general of the army has made his head big enough already.”
Twilight chuckled. “Either way, I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Oh, what did you expect?” Steel Heart prompted.
“To be honest? The worst,” Twilight replied with a sigh. “My life has been one long string of failures, and I had no reason to expect that this time would be any different.”
Steel Heart scoffed. “You saved this city and Celestia. I’d hardly count either of those things as failures.”
“Yes, but-” Twilight began.
“Butts are for sitting,” Steel Heart interrupted, squeezing Twilight’s shoulders. “I ain't going to be host to any pity parties, now come on. I’m sure your friends are dying to hear about your adventures.”
“I suppose,” Twilight murmured after a long pause.
Steel Heart stepped back before leading the way towards another elevator, followed by more long hallways. Dozens of ponies and other creatures passed them by while the two of them remained silent. Steel Heart was unreadable, her thoughts focused purely on the path ahead of her and leaving little to be deduced.
Though it was possible to delve deeper, Twilight refused to breach such trust and merely walked quietly. Her own mind was awhirl with questions, considerations, and half formed plans she wasn't sure if she should even think about. The weight of her exhaustion coupled with the stress had begun to physically drag her down, her shoulders slumping under the weight.
So distracted was the infested unicorn that she barely even noticed that something was amiss. The only clue she got that everything was not as it seemed was the fact that the barracks was quiet and empty.
Passing through the still broken doors, Twilight looked around, her mouth opening as she summoned her psychic powers to seek out her friends. Only to have her search ended before it began as every single one of them appeared from a dozen shimmering clouds. Twilight’s adrenaline spiked for the briefest moment before she noticed the party hats sitting atop everyone’s heads.
“Surprise!” they all shouted.
Twilight’s horn dulled, her body released its tension, and with a sigh she fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Spike blinked and prodded the unicorn’s side. “I think your surprise was a bit too good there, Pinkie.”
“Daww, and I worked so hard too!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed.
Twilight waved a shaky hoof in the air. “It's great, just someone get me some coffee please. Oh, and the strongest ibuprofen you got.”