//------------------------------// // Chapter 20: The Capture of the Soft One // Story: The Forest of the Golden Abalone // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// Caballeron knew little about the crystal ponies—and yet, at once, more far more than most ponies would ever know. In his misguided youth, he had spent at least several years searching for their lost Empire, intent on retrieving the Crystal Heart—only to eventually conclude that the Empire no longer existed. Which, in a sense, it never had, having been removed from reality utterly for over one thousand years. He had recovered numerous texts and references, drawn from centuries prior—mostly deluded secondary sources talking about strange wonders and dark magic, and things that were demonstrably false—but some of the information had proven accurate. His time in books, though, had left him with little interaction with the living crystal ponies themselves, even with their reappearance nearly over two decades earlier. It was difficult to believe, but the crystalline doctor who stood beside him was over one thousand years old—perhaps older than Celestia herself. They, unlike him, did not seem to age, so long as their bodies were suffused with the power of their Empire. The Crystal Heart, or what the ancient texts called the Heart of Darkness, provided a near unlimited source of energy and life to each and every one of them. The doctor worked quickly and efficiently, performing his tasks with precision and dexterity. Although he was ancient, his technique was flawless and modern, utilizing the newest in Crystal Empire technology. Which only confirmed what Caballeron had come to understand. That technology as a whole was invariably in a state of decadence. That the achievements of the past were doomed to continually fade with the march of time, Equestria’s technological process forever in reverse. These techniques were not new, but ancient, having been forgotten long ago. A process that would invariably continue. Within one thousand years, ponies would no doubt be living in caves and eating grass. Caballeron coughed. This attracted the attention of the doctor. “You should really take the medicine. The new side-groups reduce the side-effects by almost seventy percent.” “I don’t need them,” he snapped. “Do your job.” “I am,” he said, calmly. Lying on the bed was Argiopé, still unconscious, although the stinger in her neck had been removed. “Cone snail venom is a dire poison to ponies,” he said. “Not so much to changelings,” noted the doctor. “Their physiology is adaptive. She simply needs to change her organs to a type not subject to this particular poison. Which she already has, automatically.” He gave a thin smile. “Were she a drone, this might be a challenge. But she is a weaver. Probably one of the last of her kind. In Thoraxian hives, weavers are an obsolete caste.” Caballeron eyed him suspiciously. “And how do you know that?” His thin smile faded. He sighed. “Because when Sombra ruled us, I built the poisons to fight their kind.” Caballeron shivered. He had forgotten that fact. That nearly every crystal pony, save for those born under the rule of Cadence, had lived under Sombra. They still remembered, even long after his death. “Then...if I may ask…” “I know,” said the doctor, adjusting a hydration IV for Argiopé. “And I don’t. He looks like him, but not that much. He was…” He considered for a moment. “I don’t know. By the time I was born, Sombra wasn’t really...a pony anymore.” He shook his head. “Those were dark times.” “For me, it is but ancient history.” “And you of all ponies should know, ancient history has a way of coming back up to get you.” Caballeron frowned. “You’ve read the books, havn’t you?” The doctor smiled. “My kids got me into them. I’m a huge fan of AK Yearling now. I thought you were a fictional character for the longest time.” “I was invariably cast as the villain.” The doctor shrugged. “I always kind of figured you as a tragic character. The way AK wrote you never really felt like you were ever fully the bad guy. I always felt she liked you, in a way.” Caballeron felt a strange sensation, and a deep fear. He suppressed a coughing fit. The doctor smiled. “I’m not afraid of Tuo. I’m not even afraid of the other one. His granddaughter.” “What?” Caballeron did not receive an answer—because with a burst of energy, the pony he knew as Lady Fear teleported into the room—along with a pale, pastel pony covered in mud. “GAH why do you not fit through the teleport?!" she cried, "why are you so dang fat?!” The yellow pony seemed nauseous. “Do you think I like being shot across interdimensional space?” Fear did not answer. She instead cast a spell that summoned glowing, magical ropes that surrounded the other pony’s body. The Pegasus squealed as she fell onto the floor. “Help, help!” she cried, wriggling but unable to free herself. “I’m being turned on!” A magic bond appeared over her mouth, gagging her. “Excuse me,” said the doctor, calmly. “My Princess, this is a hospital.” Caballeron thought that was a strange way to address her—until he realized that she very obviously did have wings. Making her an alicorn. And it all suddenly clicked into place. That the history he had deemed untrue was, in fact, correct. And it explained why she had the same powers that Seht had, all those years ago. “Princess,” he said, bowing. “Can it.” She turned to the doctor. “I need support. Tuo’s dealing with something called a Solarian Custodian, which is apparently a really tough janitor.” Argiopé sat up suddenly, her eyes luminescent green. “They are in fact Daybreaker’s personal guard, her purposefully created companions.” Caballeron felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Argiopé?” She turned sharply to him—and her expression was waxy and emotionless. “No,” she said. Her body shifted, growing in size and becoming that of Tuo. He turned his head the other way, grasping Argiopé’s bio-clothing in his green magic and pulling it toward himself. When it touched him, it assembled into a high-collared shirt, vest, and a strangely dark suit-jacket. “What are you—what have you done to her?!” “I am currently engaged in combat with the Solarian Custodian. However, I was also able to astroproject into this body. Hers was the nearest viable vessel. I am currently possessing her.” “Since when can you do that?!” demanded Flurry Heart. “As I said. You could achieve great things if you were to practice.” “Get out of her!” cried Caballeron. Tuo stood up, using Argiopé’s body as a copy of his own. “I cannot do that,” he said. “Or, rather, I do not wish to. As I am afraid our timetable will need to be pushed upward.” “This is madness, she’s a person you incorrigible bast—” “Her body is safe so long as I control it. And I will do my best to ensure that it does not come to harm.” He paused. “However, I have neither my powers nor most of hers. I cannot shapeshift beyond my inherent mental form, which is of course me, and her body does not have my magic.” “So, what?” asked Flurry Heart. “You’re female right now?” Tuo sighed. “Do not make it weird, Flurry.” “You’re the one doing the possession.” “Because it is necessary.” Tuo faced Caballeron. “I do not know why it is here, but the Solarian is a distraction. And one that we now need to avoid. We must proceed into the ruins quickly.” Caballeron, although finding the situation severely distasteful, forced himself to acquiesce. He knew that Argiopé was ostensibly safe, but that, more importantly, the mission must continue—and faster was better. Time was still running out. “We cannot enter the pass I am currently blocking,” he said. “However, awakening the mega-slug cleared a system of pathways underground. We can descend into the pit and use the underground network to reach the central temple where the Golden Shell is located.” “The mechs won’t work underground,” said Flurry. “Not for long, anyway. They’re too big.” “Then we will leave them behind if we must. You and I will accompany Dr. Caballeron.” “Out of the question!” snapped Caballeron. “You cannot force her to do that, it isn’t your body—” Tuo completely ignored him. “Flurry, you will be taking Fluttershy.” Fluttershy’s eyes widened. Flurry seemed confused. “Why?” Caballeron nearly asked the same question—but he already knew the answer, and a smile crossed his face. “I see,” he said. “How devious.” Tuo nodded. “The Temple Guardian requires a sacrafice to allow us to pass.” Fluttershy’s eyes widened even more—and muffled sounds began to escape her as she started to wriggle. Flurry shrugged. “Works for me.” “And the woodsman?” asked Caballeron. “Neutralized,” added Tuo. Caballeron nodded. Knowing, of course, that although everything was solved and accounted for, that rarely mattered in the end. Things always got interesting toward the end, when success was almost in his grasp. And that was what he lived for. Or would live for—except for one difference. This time, he would win.