//------------------------------//
// You Wanted A Redo 
// Story: The Immortal Dream 
// by Czar_Yoshi 
//------------------------------//

The weddings concluded, and I let out a sigh. Pelting guests with rice while wearing a fluffy dress was sometimes a fantastic way to let off steam, but my lack of sleep and the previous night's exertion were starting to get to me, and my focus was all about staying on my hooves. I didn't have steam to blow off.

As the final guests of the final reception departed, Thumper cracked her joints, stretching and surveying the trashed venue. "Well, that went well enough. Hey! Halcyon!"

I jumped. "Yeah?"

Thumper nodded my way as Booster, Saturn and Lalala gathered around for our post-work debriefing. "If you're still staying with the boss, find her reason for skipping out on us and give her a whack for me if it isn't a good one. And if you don't see her, mind showing up early tomorrow to pick up her slack? I'll give you her share of the pay."

"Yeah, sure," I yawned. "No pay today, then?"

"Payday's tomorrow," Thumper instructed. "Anyway, one ceremony tomorrow, but we have to clean and dismantle the place before and after, so no slacking. See you all tomorrow night, I'm going home!"

Everyone else said their goodbyes and wandered off, leaving me to look for Coda on my own.

The filly wasn't difficult to find. Between a crack in two fake wall partitions, under the table behind them that was helping to prop them up, she had created a nest for herself out of unused silks and streamers where she lurked, ever watchful. Upon seeing my approach, she crawled out into the open.

"So?" I greeted. "What did you think?"

"I have much to think upon," Coda replied, her voice lacking a small measure of its usual flare. "I suspect my thoughts will be long and full today. However, I have decided that I enjoyed this greatly. Your princess is... challenged, by these new experiences. And she finds herself oddly relaxed by her lack of control."

I nodded, still wearing my work dress. "It's called taking a load off. You enjoyed it because you got a vacation. Something that most kids, by the way, do every day."

Coda shook her head. "Let not my present guise fool you. I am a goddess, and have the duties and responsibilities of such. Not... Not..." She yawned. "A child."

"No reason you can't be both at the same time," I said, inviting her onto my back. "So, ready to head back to your ship and reassure your cult that you're alright? I think both of us are ready to call this a night."

Coda hesitated, but then climbed on. "Yes. Let us return."





Our trip up the mountains was uneventful, my tired legs working for both of us to scale who knew how much elevation. By the time we reached Dead Herman, I was starting to worry I would collapse again like I had with Leif and Corsica, but I finally managed to wobble into the lift up to the skyport before my legs gave out for good.

At the top, I picked myself up again, letting Coda walk on her own this time, and led us the last little distance to her airship.

"May I ask you a question?" Coda asked, breaking her silence as we approached the entry.

"Eh?" I tilted my ears toward her.

"It's..." Coda lowered her voice. "Those weddings I witnessed. I was led to believe a wedding was the ultimate celebration of love. Are they not?"

"What makes you think otherwise?" I asked, having a good idea where this was going.

Coda looked away. "While they were certainly charged with emotion, I felt remarkably little love in the air. I believe those ceremonies were just for show, or else the affection they held for each other was but a pale shadow of what my own followers are capable of feeling. Yet, for a shadow, it was remarkably potent..."

She waited. Even though she was asking for affirmation on a theory, like she so often did to me, she suspected I would tell her she was wrong. She wanted to be in denial, but she knew.

Huh. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that someone with as active a mind as Coda would put together that the love she was fed was lip service so quickly. But I still thought I'd have at least more than one day to plan how to talk about it.

"...You're pretty smart," I eventually told her. "You like to think things though. So I think you'll be able to figure out what's real and what matters. But whatever you decide, I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Coda looked conflicted. "You are welcome to stay the day with me again. I promise not to berate you for taking time to sleep."

"Thanks for the invite." I gave her an earnest smile, sorely tempted to accept. "But I've gotta get home and figure out what to do about Jamjars. Duties and responsibilities, and stuff."

Coda didn't meet my eyes. "Alas, the burdens of duty are known to me. But I ignored mine for a night at your behest."

I thought about that for a moment. I thought about what I had just told her, about figuring out what was real and what mattered. And then I nodded.

"Alright," I said, straightening up. "I can go check on Jamjars next evening."





Coda's cult, understandably, was panicked. However, they were also professional and diligent enough to hide it from their faithful, and so when we strolled in through the main door, we were quietly hustled off to a side room where Coda was immediately fawned over and I was given suspicious looks until Coda proclaimed that she had merely tripped over the railing and I heroically rescued her. The clergy were plainly suspicious, but at least they held her in high enough regard not to rescind any hospitality toward me when I was obviously her favored friend.

Corsica and Leif had departed earlier in the day, I learned. Part of me was tempted to inquire and learn more about Nyala, but I got about as far as covertly assuring myself that no one else saw her third eye before my tiredness overcame me and I was forced to retire.

I dreamed about the lighthouse. A perfect recollection of myself and Coda standing in the Day District, discussing whether it was real or not while the real thing stood up there on that mountain. And if my experience with Egdelwonk and his memory-tampering had taught me anything, it was that my dreams never lied.

For some reason, I could see the truth, and no other pony - or camera - could do the same.

I woke up, and to Coda's disappointment, I left without her - it was time to go back to Jamjars', and even though the prospect of Kitty being the Composer or her being in league with Aldebaran no longer scared me, it wasn't something I wanted to walk into while caring for an overly-innocent child goddess.

My first stop was Eaststone Mall. I didn't have much cash, and the cash I did have came from Jamjars, so I couldn't fathom it helping me if and when something unexpected went down. But I knew a store that would let me convert it into something much more potent, and I left with my wallet empty and my back saddled with a large cake. Lemon with strawberry frosting!

Kitty had taught me how to play her game. I was going in with a bribe.

Ponies generally ignored me as the train wrapped through the interior of the Ice District, steadily gaining height as it spiraled up through the facility's massive, empty core. All these days and everything I had learned about Ironridge, and it was still impossible to understand why the lower reaches of the Ice District had been constructed as they were. If the core was just a support mechanism designed to hold up the upper platforms, it would be emptier, with no far walls or floor. But if it was designed to be usable space, then the incredible amounts of usable space on display would be used for something. Giant machinery, production lines, pipes and tanks, anything except empty scaffolding and distant bronze walls...

The train arrived. My stop.

Several ponies disembarked with me, and all quickly went their own ways. I walked the familiar corridor to Jamjars' villa, my legs tight and cramped after all I had put myself through, my back fur bristling in anticipation like it had on my very first time here.

I reached the door and knocked. It swung open. It was Kitty.

Her pupils got huge when she saw what I was carrying, her tongue already hanging out but now beginning to drool. I took a step back, anticipating a joyful attempt to lick me.

"Settle down," I told her, guarding the cake jealously. "Let's maybe get inside first before you demolish this. Is Jamjars home, by the way?"

"Nope!" Kitty shook-shook-shook her head, eyes never straying from her prize. "Kitty's got the house to herself for a whole bunch of hours now! Where ya been, lady?"

"I've been working, and exploring, and earning money to buy you this," I said, trying to slip inside. "If she's not here, you know where she is?"

"Nnnope?" Kitty let her tongue hang out. "She left for work an' didn't come back! About... this long ago!"

She stared at me with big eyes, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out what she was doing to indicate a span of time.

I sighed. "Alright. Cake bribe for serious mode. I give you this, and you talk normal for a bit and answer my questions to the best of your ability?"

Kitty drooled. "Cake first. Then serious mode. Kitty likes contracts..."

"Alright, alright..." I sighed, setting the cake down on the living room table. "Knock yourself out..."

Kitty immediately snatched the cake and retreated into the basement, moving almost faster than my eyes could follow.

Well... Time to wait.

I decided to investigate the apartment. The communal areas held nothing of interest, immaculately clean and tidy to a degree that suggested Jamjars didn't live with an insane mare-child who was obsessed with sugar and confectioneries.

The bedroom I shared with Corsica was empty. I honestly couldn't remember if it looked any different than I had left it. How long had it been since I slept here, anyway? It felt like a lifetime...

I moved on to the bathroom. Three towels were hung to dry, two unmistakably containing traces of Jamjars' mane and tail hair and one with her normal yellow fur. By their lack of wetness, I judged they had been there at least twenty-four hours. Maybe more.

Odd. I had lived with Jamjars long enough to know she was a mare who took two showers a day. That would mean she disappeared at least before this morning, and possibly never came home last night... A prickling feeling told me something more was going on than just a case of shirking work.

As I searched, a memory surfaced in my mind of Icereach, during our imprisonment in the hideout. The first thing I did there was explore, gathering evidence and learning what I could. I remembered searching the bathroom, finding a fancy bubble jet hot tub with Jamjars' fur caught in the intakes.

This was... basically the same. Snooping around, collecting evidence even though I had no idea what end it would serve... Except instead of scared and exhausted, I was invigorated, an electric excitement buzzing down my coat.

I had always wanted a redo, after all.

After the bathroom, there were Jamjars' and Ansel's rooms. Did I really want to break in there? I considered it. Ansel's probably didn't have anything interesting. Jamjars'... I knew how important the privacy of my own room had been to me back in Icereach. Sharing with Corsica, I missed that. Could I defile that for Jamjars, even though she was absent and was probably not working in my best interests?

Assuming room number five on the Aldebaran belonged to her, I had already done it before, I realized. And on the off chance that she was in there right now, in trouble or worse... I decided I was going in.

I slipped into the shadows, swam under the doorjamb and surfaced inside, turning on my bracelet for light.

The room was a lot bigger than I was expecting.

It was long, double the length of Ansel's room or the one I shared with Corsica, extending out past the point where the hallway ended and I assumed the apartment stopped. At one end was a posh four-poster, the kind of bed Coda's fold-away aspired to be. A window looking out over the cavernous Ice District interior took up one wall, probably adjacent to the one in the living room. There was a tidy desk with no terminal, a sheaf of unused writing supplies, and several drawers and filing cabinets. I also spied a sliding double-door that probably led to a walk-in closet, but was presently closed.

No sign of Jamjars herself, though.

Did I want to snoop on Jamjars' documents? If I was evil, I wouldn't put anything actually interesting in my filing cabinets when they were so easy to intrude on. Or maybe I'd arm them with traps. I thought about it, and decided that not only had Jamjars yet to do anything harmful to us in Ironridge, but Leif had flat-out tricked and abducted and then abandoned and impersonated us and now she was on my side. Better to avoid any potential rocks in our relationship until I knew for sure where her allegiance lay.

I did stop to read a few filing cabinet labels, though. One said Posters and Stuff, sending my mind once again back to room number five aboard the Aldebaran, how it was absolutely plastered with posters. In this room, Jamjars had shown some restraint, though there were still a few tacked up here and there that perfectly fit the style I remembered from the airship.

The most interesting one said Top Secret - Old T.I.D. ship stuff - Do Not Read! The label looked old, and this drawer struck me as slightly better-used then the others. I searched my memory for anything that acronym could reference, but drew a blank. Ship stuff... Maybe related to an airship? I always had wondered where Aldebaran got their special ship...

I poked around the desk a little more. It did have a calendar, filled with nondescript business things that looked to be related to wedding planning. I couldn't see anything unusual scheduled for tonight or last night, unless it was written in code. Though, that was a pretty high possibility.

Maybe the bed would have clues? It didn't seem to divulge anything. I checked underneath, and found a large space that looked good for storing things, tightly packed with boxes and things but conspicuously half-full in a manner that suggested something had been removed recently. I stood up and looked around the room. Nothing seemed to fit the profile...

I could imagine a suitcase being that size, if Jamjars was going traveling. Maybe the closet would have missing clothes in a pattern that could corroborate that theory?

My wing edged the closet door open. I stared.

It... was a walk-in closet, yes, and did contain plenty of dresses, and one could even convince me that it was missing enough dresses that someone had been packing for travel. But infinitely more incriminating was the machine taking up more than half the space and wedged against the back wall.

I had seen machines like this on many occasions before. It was a teleporter.

Swiftly, I dug around in my pockets, pulling out the pattern card I had looted seven months ago from the hideout's teleporter during the Aldebaran incident. All the analysis I could perform told me the data it held corresponded to a geographic location, probably used to set the teleporter's destination, but I didn't have the proprietary technology to determine where.

This teleporter still had its card. It looked just like my stolen one. I suddenly had a very good idea of what happened to Jamjars.

The irony almost made me laugh. Aldebaran - whom she was a part of - imprisoned me in the hideout. Now I was accidentally getting revenge, because Jamjars went over there for whatever reason and I had stolen the key she needed to get back. And then the sensation faded as I realized something far more important: I had an instant route between Ironridge and home.

For the steep, steep price of getting past Ludwig, apologizing to a peeved Jamjars, figuring out how this teleporter was powered, navigating whatever may or may not be happening in Icereach, and getting out unscathed, I had a real, solid path to get Mother out of harm's way.

I closed my eyes and took a breath, planning. Corsica's help would be mandatory, since she was the one who actually beat Ludwig last time and was thus our best shot at talking our way through his lair and back again. We'd need to go in the daytime, because even if I could use my bracelet and make the trip up the trench wall at night, there was no way I could bring my companions. Odds were, I would want Leif on board, since she had planned out an Icereach infiltration once before and might have some lessons to impart about how to get in and out without trouble, especially if changing circumstances had made the city more hostile to foreigners.

Kitty... At the very least, I needed her out of the way, and would have to hope my cake would suffice. Beyond that, I would need Valey's help from Fort Starlight. She had a teleporter pair of her own, used to warp in and out through that tavern in the Day District. And she had explained to me once how the teleporters worked. I knew she apparently had a bad history with Leif, but someone who knew how to work the teleporters was required.

Anyone else? Ansel, being a changeling, could disguise himself, and I had no idea how valuable of a talent that would be if we were sneaking around in Icereach where we weren't supposed to be. But to my knowledge, he hadn't yet told Corsica or anyone but Elise what he could do. And I hadn't spoken with him for at least two days, meaning he would take a lot of catching up to bring on board.

How about Egdelwonk's goons, Papyrus and Unless? Definitely not Papyrus, I decided, though he would undoubtedly agree to come. Unless... seemed to know something about Valey and Leif's history, so she might be useful as a mediator, perhaps?

And finally, there was one other pony who might be able to help: Coda.

Loath as I was to put her in real harm's way, she was also a real goddess with real powers, however diluted they may be by a feeble diet, and the windigoes we were dealing with were a real ancient evil. This was the job she wanted to do.

Let's see, was there anyone else I might be forgetting...

"Oooh, sneaky!" Kitty chirped, causing me to jump in surprise.

My first reaction was defensive. "Are you gonna tell Jamjars I was sneaking through her things?"

Kitty smiled. "Yup! Kitty does it all the time. It's funny to annoy her. Lady, you're stealing Kitty's techniques!"

My second reaction was surprise. "And wait, did you finish that entire cake already?"

"Yup!" Kitty licked some frosting off her lips, patted her belly and uttered a horrific belch. I tilted my head to look, and her stomach didn't even look slightly distended. This kid must have had an ability to convert sugar straight to raw magic, or something...

"...So," I told her. "Cake's paid, you had your meal. Serious time now?"

For a moment, Kitty frowned, then put her tongue away and donned a pair of pointed rock-star shades from her hoodie. "Yeah, yeah. What'cha need, babe? I can probably guess..."

"First off, you're the Composer," I said, aware that I was in a closet and Kitty was standing in the only exit. "Aren't you?"

"Now what would give you that idea?" Kitty uttered in the perfectly neutral, piously emotionless voice of the Composer, her tone switching once again.

I nodded, narrowing my eyes.

"I am surprised it took you this long to confront me over it," Kitty said, keeping up the Composer's voice for now. "I made a point of welcoming you to Ironridge, and even told you my name when we parted in Icereach. Lady Catherine Manchester Volkhelm Mk.I. I believe I even mentioned I preferred to go by a nickname."

My eyes widened. Kitty... Catherine...

Kitty nodded. "I see by your realization that I was too discreet. My apologies. I assumed you had simply decided to live and let live. Should you desire vengeance for my regrettable explosion in your home, be confident that I can take any punishment you have to offer."

"More than vengeance, I could use some answers," I told her, bristling warily. "Why? What was it all for?"

"All was explained in Icereach," Kitty said, walking slowly back into Jamjars' bedroom. "But, if you desire elaboration, you shall have it."

I gave her a sharp look. "Try me."

"First, you should be aware of windigo history," Kitty began. "I am what is known as an elder windigo. One of the first brood, of the oldest and most powerful. At the dawn of this world's creation, I came into being along with my siblings through the construction of an almighty curse. The function of the curse was to stop mortals from challenging the divine, and my creator - a god - birthed my race out of that jealous desire. In accordance, my race is bound by two unbreakable rules."

She turned, beginning to pace. "The first is that kinship and cooperation are anathema to us. Our gaseous forms are empowered by feelings of distrust between ponies, and are repelled by the desire to find common ground between differences. It is an enduring mechanism by which we, the curse, may be temporarily lifted. Should a society of ponies be worthy of freedom from us, in our creator's eyes, then they will be."

Kitty reached the end of the room and doubled back again. "The second is that we are bound to an ancient and powerful artifact known as the Lovebringer. The wielder of this artifact is able to command my race as their personal army. But sovereignty over our kind is far from the only power the Lovebringer bestows. In failing to execute these commands, we are subjected to agony immeasurable."

She stared at me. "Doubtless you find these rules to be in severe contradiction. One seems to reward peace and cooperation between ponies, while the other is ripe to empower tyrants and those who would rule without mercy. But to create that contradiction is none other than the essence of our existence. Under a wicked master, we would stifle society, shackle the ponies with war and tyranny and prevent them from reaching for true power. Only the good and true could calm our storm, ensuring the tyrant's eventual downfall happens at the hooves of those who are more suited to rule. Eventually, were the Lovebringer to be acquired by a ruler of compassion and temperance, with the wisdom not to unleash us upon the world in a bid for power, our curse would be forced to stand aside and that pony would be found worthy in the eyes of our creator."

"So... you were made as a tool," I told her. "Your race. Is that what you're saying? To wipe out civilization and set ponies back thousands of years if someone mean enough to use you got their hooves on your control artifact thing. That's why you and Ludwig were talking about wanting to kill your creator. Because you think that's a raw deal."

"Precisely." Kitty nodded. "You may have noticed there is little room for us in the distant, desired future. We are to be used in a cycle and cast aside every time. Never free, always bowing to another's whims. Only ever used for evil purposes, and not by the true of heart. This purpose manifests in our temperaments as well. Windigoes are created from pure wrath. We were not designed to have free will, instead being given supernatural emotions that are not our own. However, our maker designed us with one critical flaw."

"Which has to do with whatever you're doing now," I guessed.

Kitty nodded again. "We are burdened with pain for ignoring our directive, but our creator did not care to think what might happen were we unable to complete it, such was his lack of empathy for us. And that is precisely what happened. Upon first gaining our freedom, after knowing nothing but the inside of a void, we were commanded to simply do what we did best: spread hatred, and cause ponies to fight. But then we were defeated, and the Lovebringer was lost without our directive being changed. Our kind was sealed away, and we existed in two thousand years of ceaseless agony, spurring us towards a goal we were powerless to achieve. Do you know what two thousand years of pain does to a being, Halcyon?"

I shook my head.

"It numbs us," Kitty said. "We became desensitized. Our rage flailed about, looking for a target, and mine settled on the one who gave me this lot in life: my creator, who decided the rules by which I would exist. Many others did the same. Soon, I realized that not only could I decide who to hate, but that after all I had endured, a few more years of the directive's pain were nothing I could not bear. And so one day, when we were again freed, I decided not to engage in filling the world with strife. Far greater an act of spite, I decided, to rebel against my creator and my destiny."

I listened with wide eyes.

"And in a few short years, how much I have accomplished," Kitty proclaimed, spreading her forelegs wide. "You bore witness as Ludwig inhabited your friend's body for a time. That was a technique I developed, born out of my desire to evolve beyond my creator's limitations. What you see now is an even greater result: this body I currently wear is not stolen, but organically raised by me and for me and no other. In discarding my original body and becoming a harmonic life form, I am no longer repelled by the magic of friendship. I am free to go where I please, hate whom I choose, and write my own destiny. And I choose to hate my Father."

"That's insane," I whispered. "You... You..."

"I evolved," Kitty calmly told me. "The same process my presence was originally designed to encourage in ponies. Perhaps someday I will free myself from the curse's pain for ignoring my directive, or be able to feel emotions that are truly my own. But I need neither of these to continue my chosen path."

"Why tell me all this?" I asked warily. "What's it have to do with that mural down in the cave? You're not gonna try getting me to help you again, are you?"

"What you do next is a choice I leave to you," Kitty said. "As for the mural, the curse that created us is sometimes known as the Three Deaths. Windigoes are but one prong of three, each tied to a separate artifact, all of which must be mastered if one wishes to become omnipotent. The other two branches are no less potent than our race as a whole, calamities waiting to level the world and all in it. That mural, I believe, was carved by one of the other branches in the days shortly after we were first defeated. I desired to see it that I might learn more about their initial state of mind. Killing a deity is difficult, Halcyon. Almighty and all-seeing... I was, and still am, curious whether I might take them as an ally."

"But you're still telling me," I pointed out. "You could just... Why?"

Kitty shrugged. "You gave me a very delicious cake. In payment, I am indulging your curiosity."

I squinted. "You legitimately like cake that much."

"Perhaps." Kitty nodded. "It is a food I am partial to. Understand that, without the body of a pony, windigoes cannot eat what you think of as food. To consume it is to revel in my accomplishments. To enjoy it is to exercise my free will, and choose to desire something other than war. It is the ultimate insult to my creator."

"So..." I took a wary step sideways. "If I get you more, you'll, like... not blow up my house again? Or try to abduct me? What about Ludwig?"

"It is my nature to bear ponies animosity, as it is his," Kitty said. "I choose to defy my nature, though that is not to say I do not still have it. Ludwig is of a younger generation, created after we windigoes replenished our numbers in the wake of a rampage. He thinks differently to me, as do most. While the idea of rebelling against his creator intrigues him, he embraces the chaos in his heart with much greater ease than I."

I sighed. "Okay. Let's talk business. Jamjars is stuck on the other side of this teleporter with Ludwig because she took a jaunt over there without knowing I stole the key, right?"

Kitty nodded.

"And you're in league with her," I added.

Kitty nodded again. "Our goals are far from identical. However, she has little fear of windigoes, and both of us stood to benefit from the situation in Ironridge we helped to create."

I hesitated, weighing my words carefully. "Suppose I wanted to use this teleporter to go back to Icereach, get my mom, and come back here in one piece. How many cakes will it take to get you legitimately on my side for this, and not falsely on my side like when you refused to pay up last time?"

Kitty's posture showed no signs of remorse. "I apologize for my previous duplicity. Understand that I owed you little at the time, and was keenly interested in probing the mechanical bodies Icereach made for me for intentional weaknesses. Now that we know more of each other, I would be willing to assist you in this endeavor for free."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Kitty pointed a hoof at the teleporter. "That machine is powered by me, and its counterpart by Ludwig. If I am lying, your quest will be over before you have put any chips on the table. You have nothing to lose by trusting me. However, as you observed last time, Ludwig obeys me only so much as it suits his own whimsy. Most windigoes are the same. I will send you to Icereach, but you will need his cooperation to power the teleporter to send you back. I advise you plan meticulously if you wish to meet with success. Unless, of course, you have figured out how to repeat the luck that protected you last time around."

"How do you know about...?" I took a step back. "You're implying I can control that?"

For a moment, Kitty hesitated. And then she took off her shades, put them away, and cluelessly stuck out her tongue. "Big question, lady! Got any more cakes?"

I showed her my empty wallet. "Bought the biggest one I could afford."

Kitty waddled up and sniffed it. "Lady," she said with a disapproving frown, "you're gonna need a wallet at least forty times bigger to buy Kitty enough cakes for that one."

"Is that a promise?" I gave her a serious look. "Forty cakes, and you tell me what all those miracles back then were about?"

"Nope!" Kitty happily wagged her tail. "Kitty doesn't know how ya did it. She just wants forty cakes."

I sighed. "Fine. Well... I've gotta prepare. You're a weeeird windigo, Kitty."

Kitty puffed out her chest and beamed.

I didn't look back as I left Jamjars' bedroom, already thinking about how best to spend my time before the next sunrise. I had no idea how Kitty's story related to any of her actions in Icereach or Ironridge, but at least she didn't seem desperate to get me dragged into anything. And given my track record in Ironridge, that was a bigger miracle than any I had seen in Icereach.

This time, though, I was determined not to need miracles.