//------------------------------// // The Way Things Are // Story: Babel // by BaeroRemedy //------------------------------// Part One: The Tower “Mmmnn...uuggggh…” Heavy lids attempted to flutter open but stubbornly remained in placed. Sunlight attempted to force its way through, but it only solidified the resolve of the eyelids to stay in place. If the sun’s insistence wasn’t enough, then the constant ache that plagued the prone form was doing it’s best to wear down the endless resiliency of the closed eyes. “She’s waking up. She’s waking up! We need to alert the Lord Commander right now!” A panicked voice broke the stillness of the moment and finally pried those stubborn eyes open. It took a few moments to bring everything into focus from abstract blurriness to a fidelity that could actually be deciphered. Stone walls illuminated by natural sunlight that streamed into the room through several holes in the structure. Patches of moss dotted outcroppings spaced around the interior of the room. Some sickly green bulbs hung from the ceiling and emanated soft light that was useless in the midday sun. It all looked so familiar and yet so wrong at the same time. Everything was just a little off. A heavy weight on her chest drew her still focusing gaze to an orb resting on top of her. A green and black maelstrom raged inside of it, constantly swirling and surging inside of the glass-like container. “A heart…?” She regarded the object curiously, her thoughts still fighting through her fog-laden mind. “Where am I…?” “Home, Elytra.” A voice as deep as a chasm filled with gravel responded. A Changeling almost double Elytra’s height now stood at the exit to the room. His coat was a dark cyan, almost green, and he had two red horns sprouting from his head like antlers. A pair of narrowed violet eyes remained fixed on her, cautious and wary. This was someone she recognized but she couldn’t place a hoof on it. “I hurt…” Elytra groaned as she finally took stock of her situation. One of her hind legs was still half-missing, but the cracks and chips that once criss-crossed her chitin like rivers and streams seemed to be repaired now. She wasn’t sure about her wing, as she was lying on her back. “Yeah, I bet.” The changeling grumbled as he stepped closer. “You probably don’t recognize me. I looked a lot different the last time we spoke—” The male changeling sounded about as interested in pleasantries as she was, which is to say they both just wanted to get to the important stuff. “—Pharynx?” She asked as the voice finally rang a few bells in her slowly acclimating mind. It sure sounded like the grumpy guard, but the last time she saw him he was still the old kind of changeling. One of the only holdouts who downright refused the Metamorphosis. “Finally came around?” Elytra grinned weakly at the King’s brother. “Yeah well, some ponies came around and did what they do best.” Pharynx rolled his eyes and sat at the end of the bed. “It’s Lord Commander Pharynx now, by the way. I’m in charge of keeping the hive safe, which has been a little more difficult than I thought it would be lately.” A sigh escaped his lips and he slumped a bit, his eyes closing for just a second. The Pharynx that Elytra had once known was a gruff no-nonsense belligerent who listened to no one, not even his own brother. The bug she saw before her was a sullen shadow, skinny and frail but resilient all the same. If things around the hive had been even a fraction of what they were in Ponyville, then it was Pharynx who had borne the brunt of it. “How did I even get back here?” That was the question that now weighed on Elytra’s mind and she had to ask it. “The last thing I remember…” She trailed off, the image of a massive bloodthirsty alicorn towering over her flashing through her head quieting her. “I should be dead.” She concluded. “Maybe.” Pharynx nodded along. “The Equestrians didn’t tell us what exactly happened to you, just that they couldn’t seem to help you. Those ponies don’t know a thing about us, no matter how much they say they do.” The Lord Commander sneered and grumbled under his breath before shaking his head. “We’ve had you here for about six months now, Elytra. We patched up your leg the best we could, fixed up your wing and made sure to clean up your chitin. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up and tell us what happened.” “What happened…” Elytra mumbled as she dragged herself into a sitting position. Even the small movements took herculean effort due to months of inactivity, but eventually she was propped against the hard stone wall of the room. “I was in Ponyville when everything went wrong. I took shelter in Princess Twilight’s castle with a bunch of other survivors...and we waited.” A shaky breath escaped her lips as more of it all came rushing back to her. “O-one of the ponies figured out how to turn Twilight back to normal...and we did it. We lost good ponies. Nice ponies.” Their names were all on the tip of her tongue still, and those that she saw die...well she would never forget their death masks as they lay lifeless. “Twilight figured out how to fix all of this, how to turn everypony back to normal. She needed someone to cleanse the central mana pool while she and her friends used their Element things to purge the air. I cleansed the pool.” Elytra held herself as the sound of Cadance’s roar rolled around her skull, as the sizzling heat of magic scorched her body and claimed one of her wings. “I was chased by an alicorn, but I did it.” “Makes sense why the ponies didn’t tell us.” Pharynx spoke to himself, his eyes fixed on some point on the wall in front of him. “Maybe they thought you wouldn’t recover and would never tell us anything.” He turned back to face Elytra. “So you saw all of the alicorns and you learned how this thing spread?” “You don’t know?” “No.” Pharynx shook his head. “The ponies have been quiet since day one on exactly what happened. The reports from Manehattan have all said it was an unexplained magical phenomenon that Twilight Sparkle and her friends reversed.” That little revelation narrowed Elytra’s eyes and plunged her deep in thought as to why Equestria would do such a thing. “We’re not idiots, though. Every single creature on the planet knows they’re responsible.” “I never really understood what they were talking about.” Elytra opted to lie, as a changeling was wont to do. If the princesses of Equestria weren’t telling the truth, it had to be for a good reason. “What happened here? Were you guys okay?” A bitter chuckle made slick from blood and cynicism slipped past Pharynx’s lips, and it was all that Elytra needed to hear to know the answer. The Lord Commander tapped his rear hooves against the floor, the sound like porcelain tinkling against stone. “No, not really. We had some ponies visiting when everything happened. All unicorns, scholars learning more about us and our kind. When the sun stopped moving we offered them shelter here, like good friends should…” Pharynx trailed off and let out a deep sigh. “They turned ten days later...killed almost three dozen before we could put them down.” The changeling nodded at nothing in particular, just the memory. “That was the worst of it. We had a few unicorns get close but we dealt with them and only lost a couple more.” “How’s Equestria doing…? Did you get any word about other survivors from Ponyville?” Elytra gripped the blanket that covered her lower half as tight as she could, the wings on her back buzzing lightly in anticipation as she waited for the answer. “No, and who knows if even Equestria knows about other survivors.” Pharynx stood and straightened his posture, returning to that proud and stubborn bug every changeling knew. “It’s a mess over there, Elytra. Riots, food shortages, and no one has seen hide nor hair of the princesses since the Event. Even our spies can’t confirm if they’re alive or dead at the moment.” The Lord Commander of the hive started off towards the door. “If you made any friends over there, I wouldn’t hold out hope for them.” “Oh Cheerilee…please be okay…” Elytra mumbled to herself. ------ “Miss...Cheerilee is it?” A portly stallion looked over a pair of comically small spectacles situated on his wide snout with dead gray eyes. He held a clipboard in his hoof and sat in a heavily abused office chair that was creaking from strain. A greasy brown mane was combed over a mostly snow white bald head. “Yes sir.” Cheerilee smiled sheepishly and squirmed in her chair. It was kind of odd being on this side of the desk and being judged. Once upon a time she was in the stallion’s position, usually telling a parent how naughty their foal had been at school or how their grades were slipping. “Thirty-five. Single. Do you have any foals? Have you had any foals?” The stallion spoke slow and steady, his eyes moving sluggishly between the clipboard and the mare across from him. “Well yes!” Cheerilee replied enthusiastically, eager to get even a hint of approval from this pony. “I-I was a teacher for most of my life back in P-back home.” She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying ‘Ponyville’. That was not a word she was supposed to utter anymore. “I also have a daughter—adopted—her name is Scootaloo. She lives with me here.” “Mhm.” The stallion responded nonchalantly. “You know you might be the oldest mare that has signed up for this program. Are you sure you’re physically capable of—” “—yes!” Cheerilee cut him off before shrinking back into her seat. “I-I mean, yes. I am absolutely sure. Things were a little rough after we re-settled here, but I’m in the best shape of my life now, sir.” Even Scootaloo had noted how the mare’s once chubby and matronly curves had given into a more solid and toned physique. Helping the other earth ponies grow stuff in the fields had helped with that of course. “I assure you, I’m capable and healthy and ready.” “Well Miss Cheerilee…” The fat bureaucrat put the clipboard down and leaned back in his chair, drawing a cry of pain from the seat. “...we’ve got your physical done already. We’ll send all of this off back to Manehattan and in a couple of weeks we’ll have your answer.” The script he had been going through in his head continued in the same monotonous tone. “The Equestrian Repopulation Bureau thanks you for your patriotism and cooperation.” He sighed. “Please keep an eye on your mail for any further questions or confirmation.” Without another word, Cheerilee rose from her seat and gave a curt nod to the stallion before turning to leave. Even as she left her heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her chest. Even as she walked through the door and into the cool late fall air she couldn’t stop from sweating. There was the overwhelming sense that she had failed a test she couldn’t possibly prepare for. She just wanted to help, really. Well, maybe her intentions weren’t entirely altruistic. Cheerilee had spent so much time around the foals of others that a visceral need had built up in the depths of her being for one of her own. Yes, Scootaloo was a wonderful filly who she loved very much...but there was still something missing there. Cheerilee closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself and letting the sound of rushing blood drain from her ears. Once that sound left, a few more entered all at once. A distant roar of a crowd, not a happy one, and much closer whimpers and sobs. The teacher opened her eyes to locate the former and found it sitting in the middle of town by the fountain, curled up in a ball. “Sweet Pepper? Is that you, dear?” The curled up pony was a washed out maroon pegasus, her orange mane and tail unkempt and wild. She could see the poor mare shaking and crying even from her position across the street. Hurriedly, she rushed over to the sobbing ball and placed a gentle hoof on the other mare’s back. “Sweet Pepper, honey, what’s wrong?” Now interacting with the pegasus on a good day was already like walking through a minefield laden with eggshells. Cheerilee had to make sure she was slow and careful and her voice was soft and calming. There would be no use in exacerbating this any further. There was no response given by the shivering terrified mare on the ground, only more shaking and whimpering as a soft ‘pop’ came from somewhere else in town. Cheerilee could only treat the poor pegasus like she would any scared filly or colt and began to rub up and down her back and shush her softly. “Cheerilee, what the hay is going on here?” A pink mare with her purple mane done up in two massive buns appeared beside the two ponies on the ground, her words heavily accented by Whinnyapolis heritage. “Is she okay?” “I think so, Mayor Petals. Just frightened.” Cheerilee kept her voice level and calm, not wanting to set the curled up pony off any more than she already was. “I think it has something to do with that commotion across town.” It was her only guess, but it was a good one. It sounded like a crowd was gathered and the other noises almost sounded like magic. “I’ll handle Sweet Pepper, dear. Can you go see what that’s all about?” The mayor, her full name was Petunia Petals, was one of the original inhabitants of this little town. The month of hell had seemingly aged the mare, who was ten or so years Cheerilee’s younger, decades. She had streaks of gray through her vibrant purple mane already and omnipresent dark bags underneath shining blue eyes. “If it’s bad, just come and get me. I’ll be with this poor sweetie in her home.” Cheerilee nodded and stood, looking off across the town. Yet again a couple more ‘pop’ sounds echoed through the circular village, sending a chill up the mare’s spine and drawing yet another cry from Sweet Pepper. A brisk trot carried her from the central fountain to just over a small rise where the commotion was coming from. Every single citizen of Hope Hollow, all either pegasi or earth ponies now, were gathered in a tight crowd around an ornately decorated purple wagon and jeering at whoever owned it. The earth pony pushed her way through the crowd with some difficulty, squeezing between ponies when she could and using her natural strength to muscle past others. It took a minute or so, but she eventually made her way to the front of the crowd. The unicorn’s twisted body easily pushed the earth pony down, pinning her to the ground. The dripping snarling maw hung over her face, letting thick globs of viscous black saliva fall on Cheerilee’s face. The heart in Cheerilee’s chest returned to its attempts to break out through her ribcage, pounding furiously against its organic cage. Those deep-seated instincts telling her to run flared up and raced around her head like Wonderbolts at top speed. She had to fight as her every neuron fired off the starting pistol to signal the start of a primeval game of cat and mouse it still knew. “Please! The Friendly and Non-Threatening Trixie only wants to entertain the ponies of Hope Hollow!” A pale blue mare was in the wagon, her head poking out of one of the windows. A ragged platinum mane hung from her head, a sharp and needlelike horn poking through. As she spoke, even from a distance, fangs were visible poking from her mouth. The same fangs that had once found purchase in Cheerilee’s leg. The scar on that leg, the one that Rarity had haphazardly stitched up, started to ache and burn from just seeing Trixie. The smell of a dusty and dank schoolhouse filled her nostrils as the sounds of bells echoed through her mind. She stood still in her place, but her mind wandered a hundred miles away and countless months in the past. Cheerilee’s breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t even push herself to move. It was like all of the strength she had cultivated over the past half year meant nothing in the face of just one pony. It all melted away...like Ponyville did beneath the alicorns. “Excuse me, miss. It might not be the best idea to hang around here, don’tcha know?” Where Cheerilee had faltered, the local fashionista stepped up. A baby blue pegasus mare with a barely contained pink mane held together by bands and a pin cushion, her mechanical back leg tapping against the pavement as she trotted up to Trixie. “The ponies around here aren’t too keen on your kind, they’re a very sensitive bunch.” To punctuate the point, a rock impacted inches away from Trixie’s head. “Please everypony, I’m handling this!” The mare, who Cheerilee knew as Kerfuffle, called back to the crowd. That seemed to be enough to calm them, for now. “Trixie is a travelling entertainer.” Trixie protested to both Kerfuffle and the crowd. “She simply came here to show you all that we are not dangerous anymore!” That sentiment was met with more jeers and shouts from the crowd. “Trixie is only trying to be an amba—” The unicorn trailed off as her eyes met with Cheerilee’s. The two mares stared at each other, and for a brief moment they were both back in Ponyville’s schoolhouse. One could still taste blood in her mouth and the other could still feel the panic of facing a monster. Both wanted to leave that moment where it belonged: on the glass fields of that small hamlet in the shadow of Canterlot. “—yes, Trixie will leave.” The magician lowered her head and mumbled to Kerfuffle. “Please just give Trixie until morning. She won’t even leave her wagon, she just needs some rest. Trixie promises.” “Okay, that sounds like a deal.” Kerfuffle nodded with a smile before turning to address the crowd. “Okay everypony, go back to what you were doing! Our guest is going to leave first thing in the morning and none of ya are going to bother her! She won’t bother us, no magic and we won’t even see her.” There were grumbles of frustrated approval from the townsponies, who started to slowly disperse. Everypony but Cheerilee. She sat there, staring at the wagon and waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she wanted to make sure that Trixie wouldn’t attack anypony, maybe she wanted to try to talk to her attacker. Maybe she was just scared. “Cheerilee, hun.” Kerfuffle placed a hoof on her shoulder, which thankfully shook the older mare out of her stupor. “C’mon it’s time to leave her alone. I think Scootaloo should be home from her deliveries, right? I bet some time with her sounds nice right about now, huh?” “Yeah, yeah. Sorry Kerfuffle.” Cheerilee shot a weak smile at the pegasus and turned her back to Trixie’s wagon. “You’re right, some time with Scootaloo sounds wonderful. Thank you.” The two mares began to trot towards Cheerilee’s house, Kerfuffle staying with her long enough to make sure she wouldn’t go back to the visitor’s wagon. When they were about a dozen feet away from the door, an old but trusty scooter propped up beside it, the two mares finally split with a shared but strained smile. The home was nothing special, it looked like one you would find in any small town across Equestria. Beige exterior, steep roof and just rather plain. Before she and Scootaloo moved in it had belonged to a unicorn couple, the Hoofingtons, that had not survived the Event. It could be odd living in the house of dead ponies, but it was better than Twilight’s castle or the manehattan train station. Cheerilee had to take a deep breath before pushing the front door open just to collect herself. Inside Scootaloo was sitting on the couch, the radio on the mantle turned on and blasting the news into the empty house. The mare staggered over to the recliner opposite the couch and flopped into it. “Another demonstration outside of the temporary headquarters of the princesses, the Royale Hotel, in Manehattan erupted into violence today” The newspony on the radio started. “Members of the pro-unicorn ‘Harmonists’ and the anti-unicorn ‘Exclusionists’ devolved into a vicious brawl after an earth pony attacked a unicorn and snapped its horn off. The princesses declined to comment.” “Can we...turn that off...please?” Cheerilee sighed and closed her eyes. It wasn’t like the news was exactly new. You could replay a broadcast from three months ago and be none the wiser if you left the date out. The last thing anypony needed was more of that negativity. “Are you okay?” Scootaloo asked as stood to deal with the bearer of bad news above the fireplace. “You don’t look so good.” The little pegasus opted not to turn it off, but instead turn it down to a near inaudible level. Then the filly trotted over to the chair, hobbling a little on a once-broken leg that had been treated improperly for too long. Cheerilee picked up the filly, her filly, and brought her in for a tight hug. She buried her muzzle in Scootaloo’s wild magenta mane, the scent of dirt and lavender filling her nose. Just as she had done the first time she had faced down Trixie, she filled her mind with the reason she was still here. The sole reason why she had survived and kept going this long. “Trixie is in town…” She mumbled into the mane. At the name alone, Scootaloo gave her teacher and adoptive parent the best hug she could right back. “I saw her...and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything.” Tears fell from Cheerilee’s eyes and onto the filly she clung to. “I was right back in Ponyville all over again.” “We’re not there anymore, Cheerilee.” Scootaloo managed to get out as the mare’s grip tightened on her. “We’re here and we’re safe. Everything is better now.” Sweet Celestia, why was that so hard for Cheerilee to believe right now?