//------------------------------// // Chapter 20: “Is it still you under there?” // Story: The Ghost of Coltistrano: Phantom Eulogy // by EthanClark //------------------------------// His chiling growl snapped like a whip. Each changeling continued with their fervent threats, gnashing and biting towards him, but never coming too close. One dared, quickly met with the black flash of the cloak across his muzzle, drawing a thin line of blood across the roof, a reminder the Ghost’s reach far exceeded theirs. Some stepped away, others held their ground, but the Ghost turned to face the unicorn behind him, shrinking where he lay. Shield could only gasp when he felt the bolt of black ensnare his torso, and the world turned into a blur when he was pulled from the roof and dangled from the cloak.  The Ghost launched himself into the night and sent the other end of the cloak out to catch the tower’s ledge. He swung, with Shield in tow, across the palace walls with the rush of wind beating hard against them both as a familiar tower of the West Wing came into view. Landing on the ledge caused the window to shake, but those waiting inside pulled the Ghost and his prisoner across the threshold and into an empty office Shield recognized. Mahogany shelves, sparse decoration, with the decorations of its new owner across the walls, but there was no mistaking his old office. Familiar faces surrounded him as he was deposited harshly onto the floor. “Well, that’s one thing out of the way,” the white unicorn declared. “Just gotta bust his knee so he won’t run, unless the twerp wants to make this hard.” The Ghost stepped in front of the armor-plated gryphon, fiery eyes bearing down on Shield. He flinched as the shadow approached. “The changelings have taken over the throne room. Prisoners are being held there. How do we stop them?” “Y-You…” Shield stammered. “You are here for them?” “We’re here to correct your insidious indulgences. Now, tell me, how?” Shield fought with all his strength to share the Ghost’s gaze, no matter how his mind screamed to look away. “There are… many still in the palace. Entering the throne room without an invitation is nigh-impossible.” “Except for scum,” Gilda spat. “Looks like your boss gave you the pink slip, so maybe she’ll let us in if we give her you.” “Alate will be furious, though,” Rarity stated. “She’s dying to make him squirm.” Shield gave a weary laugh. “Your attempts at intimidation are precious. If-” All humor was sucked away at the dark tendrils of the cloak coiling around his limbs, carelessly choking and digging into his flesh as the Ghost pulled him from the floor. He almost screamed. Once he felt his back slam against the corner of the desk’s surface he fell silent, and the Ghost held a gloved hoof to his throat. “Consider this an undeserved mercy, Shield Wall,” his grim voice echoed. “The next few moments of your sickening life will be spent aiding us in saving this city from your errors. You will tell us what we want to know, or I will give you what you deserve.” Shield’s lip quivered at the sharp, sinister words the Ghost laid upon him, crawling under his skin like needles as he endured the haunting gaze of a dead pony. His composure finally bent. Trembling hooves came before him, raised for the Ghost to see. “There are many drones, led by the brute, Sulcus. I have thinned their number, but the queen sits at the heart of her new hive. You may get in, but escape will be…” He paused at his next word, reminded just who held him at his mercy. “Their bonds are weak. Freeing the prisoners should be simple, assuming you provide an ample distraction.” The Ghost was silent, squinting at the unicorn fighting to hold his composure. He reached into his jacket, drawing the dark, jagged horn from within and carelessly dropping Shield against the floor before passing it to Rarity, stowed away in her saddlebag. “You’re going to stay here. The EUP will soon surround us and the princesses will be freed. You can’t escape.” “You think me a petty-” His final words were cut off as the Ghost lunged for him, placing his face dangerously close to Shield’s as the latter turned away. Weakly, pathetically, he peered out the corner of his eye to watch the trio turn and exit the office, leaving him alone to quaver in the darkness, the click of the lock a seal on his fate. Beyond the door, Gilda nudged the Ghost as they trekked the hallways. “I’ve never seen Tightwad nearly shit himself like that.” “A long time coming. For now, we know what to expect but we don’t know how to get into the throne room. Alate, however…” On queue, a tangle of rags fell from the ceiling beside Rarity, causing her to jump.  “He wasn’t lying,” Alate began. “There are dozens of drones in the throne room, and Chrysalis is definitely among them, but the changelings use tunnels to move in and out without detection. That’s our way in.” “Good work. You and Rarity will take the tunnels and move in behind them, while Gilda and I distract them.” “I beg your pardon?” Rarity gave him a confused, almost nervous look. “We’ll be crawling through changeling tunnels, deep into a hive, with Celestia knows what waiting for us?” “Your magic will make quick work of the cocoons,” Alate suggested, doing little to subdue Rarity’s disgust. “Ugh, I suppose, but… oh, the things I do for Equestria.” Alate led them deeper through the hallways, stopping just shy of the stairs leading down towards the central lobby. She hovered in the air for a moment, taking the bevy of silent sensations around her. “Sulcus is getting them ready. They suspect an attack.” “Then that’s what they’re gonna get,” Gilda said, pounding her claws together. “We need to be smart about this.” The Ghost brought everyone around him. “Gilda and I can hold off Sulcus and the changelings, but you two won’t be safe to engage until Chrysalis is lured out, as well, that’s when you move in. Alate, can you give the signal?” Alate nodded, but Rarity pressed her hoof to the Ghost’s shoulder. “Love, even for you this is dangerous. How do you expect to defeat so many, even with Gilda’s help.” “We don’t need to defeat them, just distract them. Gilda and I are more than able to stay a pain in their flanks while you two free the princesses. With luck, we won’t have to wait for the EUP long, and Chrysalis will have nowhere to run.” “Oh, this is gonna be so bucking awesome.” Gilda’s gushing was lost upon Rarity, who pulled the Ghost aside. “You remember, yes? Don’t be a hero.” “I remember.” “And you’ll be careful?” “I will.” He leaned in, gently placing a hoof to her cheek and catching her lips with his. “We’ll keep them off you.” “You two ready?” Alate’s cold inquiry drew their attention to her. “They won’t wait forever.” With a final stroke of her cheek, the Ghost pulled away and split off from the group with Gilda by his side. They marched down the stairs like two soldiers, passing the hall of silhouettes, with one familiar shape standing out to him. He averted his gaze. Instead, he deftly checked each of his pouches as Gilda adjusted her armor. The exit fast approached them. “Dude?” “Yeah?” “You’re getting pretty scary, you know?” “It’s useful.” “No,” Gilda said, quickly and quietly. “I mean, really scary.” The Ghost froze, peering over his shoulder to Gilda as she slowly approached, silent as she placed her claws gently on both sides of his face. “Is it still you under there?” A sudden tremble hit him, spurred by her soft words. “Mostly.” “Are you thinking about it?” Gilda hardly needed a reaction to know his thoughts, watching his eyes dim and drift away. “You’ve been hanging out with Alate too long. Just… I know it hurts. Losing you was… I became a bad person, did bad things to people I love, and I’m seeing that in you, too.” Her claws shifted to his shoulders as his posture sank. “Whatever happens down there, however bad it gets, don’t lose yourself, okay? I can’t… I can’t lose you again.” It took him a moment, stifling his breath as Gilda’s sorrowful gaze washed over him, but he grasped her shoulder and gave a firm nod. They guided each other the rest of the way to the lobby, orchestrated by a chorus of chittering snarls. Gilda peered around her with one claw ready at her side. The Ghost kept his gaze forward, turning only to follow the central staircase upwards to the hulking mass of chitin sending him a snarl. Soon, the two landed in the center of the lobby, flanked by throngs of changelings dripping down the columns around them, and with a firm stomp of his hoof Sulcus spoke aloud. “You! The cowardly pony in the forests, who fought with the traitor, who resists death itself. The queen demands your fealty, now bow!” “The fetid fruit of evil doesn’t fall far, Sulcus, and you are as rotten as any other.” “You insult the queen in her place of power? Death is the price of your sacrilege!” “Up yours, shit for brains. Come and get us!” Sulcus reared his head back and a horrid screech rang out, enough to force Gilda and the Ghost to cover their ears as the rest of the horde joined in the chorus. The first wave advanced. Drones covered in thorny plates of slick armor charged the duo in a wild pattern and buzzed around them in all directions, but the Ghost moved too quickly. One length of the cloak covered his eyes, the other Gilda’s, and a brilliant flash burned into each changeling’s eyes, announcing the furious onslaught delivered by their prey.  Gilda swiped viciously in front of her. Each drag of her claws caught chitin, flesh, and the very floor they stood on as her foes stumbled back. Two flanked her left side, horns ready and aimed for her torso. Their mistake was flying too slowly. One found their neck caught within her elbow, while the other took a facefull of her hind paw in a powerful kick. He spun out of control, an easy target for the whip of shadow reaching out to catch him, transforming the panicking drone into a flail against which his brethren fell with each stomach-turning spin.  The Ghost discarded his weapon into the thickest part of the crowd, but even so they advanced. A punch to the throat, a kick between the ribs, swipes of the cloak along exposed flesh and failing armor, but no matter the tactic the Ghost found himself drowning in the changeling swarm overtaking him. Even submerged, the Ghost braced himself. A wrapped hoof sent the peak of the mound upwards, with a second strike of his empowered limb scattering the rest, and when the cloak returned to its billowing form he snapped to the right. It caught around the column and served as his new perch. Gilda knew his next move. She found the nearest changeling and grabbed his legs, battering his allies with the poor drone to clear a path. Two beats of her mighty wings not only sent stragglers back but sent her to the Ghost’s level. She was his signal. Leaping from the column, he dropped a barrage of capsules and potions from his belt, a firestorm of flashes, bangs, and searing pain let loose upon the scattering soldiers below. He threw his hooves out to be caught by Gilda, who spun twice before firing the Ghost like a cloaked missile towards the drones’ leader. A crack rang out when the Ghost collided with Sulcus, his hoof raking along the hardened chitin enough to sunder it. Chips of it fell from his face. Fangs chattering, limbs shaking, Sulcus roared at the vulgar offense, hurling his meaty limb towards the shadowy specter who danced around him with unnatural grace. The cloak propelled him, pulling and pushing him to drudge each swipe. Sulcus, however, found his opening with a bone-bending kick to the Ghost’s chest. He crashed hard against the far column. “The Ghost of Coltistrano. Protector of a dead city. Tell me, Shadewalker, do you now wish you had joined them? I will give you the privilege of begging their forgiveness in person!” The Ghost injected his fury into a single strike, a cloak-covered blow against Sulcus’ throat sending him into a sputtering mess. Two smokey capsules flew into the crowd and summoned a wall of fog before the Ghost snapped the cloak forwards. Both ends wrapped around Sulcus’ head, forcing themselves across his mouth like a bit as the Ghost held him back. The changeling hulk thrashed against his bonds, until the piercing caw sapped his muscles of strength, and Gilda soared through the wall of smoke with an outstretched claw. Chitin surrendered to her, flesh broke and twisted, and Gilda’s firm fist was soon joined by another, and another, until Sulcus released a howl of pain, muffled by the ebon cloak restraining him. One final blow and Sulcus finally collapsed. Groaning, heaving breaths were the only efforts he could make as the Ghost filled his vision, sending a final strike to send Sulcus into unconsciousness. The smoke wall fell. Drones bore witness to the sight of Gilda and the Ghost standing atop their commander, and with too many of their number wounded or fled they trampled each other in their desperate retreat. Gilda let out a ragged sigh, looking over to the panting Ghost. “So, that’s supposed to be the easy part, right?” “Right,” he said, clutching his chest. “Holy smokes. So, how you wanna play this? The throne room sounds like a shooting gallery, with Queen Bitch at the very end.” The Ghost peered around the battlefield, giving special attention to the slumbering Sulcus at his hooves. Then, a cloak-covered hoof pressed against the door, closing his eyes to feel the room beyond and all its occupants. With a smile he unclasped his belt and passed to a perplexed Gilda. His smile, however, told her everything she needed to know, and she added her own wicked grin. Inside the throne room stood rows of stalwart centurions. Grim faces locked onto the towering door, glaring through plated helmets of a sickly faded green, muscles twitching at the slightest noise from beyond the threshold. She sat behind them, tall in her stolen throne. Sounds of battle still rang in her ears, howls of pain and broken resolve fresh memories for the queen, but a firm huff reassured herself and her soldiers of their superiority, no matter what terror waited behind the door. That was, until it opened. Creaking wood and polished hinges rang out across the empty space of the throne room, stirring its entombed victims in their cocoons. Darkness rested beyond the veil. Streams of smoke from extinguished torchlight drifted through the door as a wispy frame of tendrils. Drones inched forward as anxious seconds passed, with one brave soul taking point, rallying others to investigate the stillness, but the reward for his courage came in the form of a dark shape ejected from the shadows, landing with a metallic clink. The drone dared touch the rope of pouches, too late to hear the hissing within. Queen Chrysalis shielded her eyes from the resulting explosion of colors and flames. Noxious fumes filled the floor to invade the unprepared lungs of all within reach, the rest flailing against the sting settling in their eyes, and only when she cast a swirling spell around her form to disperse the assault did she see what came next. His violet fringe fluttered as he flew, limply cast from the darkened doorway to crash between the struggling drones. The queen flinched at the sight of Sulcus lying on the floor of her hive, with only his heaving chest proof he still lived. “M-My queen… ru-...run.” Sulcus’ final words before slipping into unconsciousness stoked the flames of her next violent outburst. Something else spoke first. “Though you escape from judgment’s view…” The drones still holding their senses frantically scanned the room. Echoing laughter filled their ears from all directions, as if the very palace mocked their presence, continuing as more and more drones fell out of formation, some casting bolts of power into the darkness. Even Chrysalis flinched at the voice. She cried out to her warriors with a rallying hiss and managed to summon some to her side, but only too late did she find the source of the dark cackle, following the timber upwards. There, nestled between dangling cocoons, brilliant amber eyes glared back at her. “The Ghost now sets his haunt upon you!” She couldn’t even gasp. Instead, her horn charged as the Ghost fell from above, but it was the screech of a gryphon that threw her off balance, even before the powerful fist slammed into her shoulder. Gilda rocketed from the darkness and soared over the disorganized drones towards her target. Where the queen once stood, the Ghost landed with the cloak stretched across the throne before leaping from his elevated position into the crowd of drones. Chittering and gnashing of fangs were the most they could muster as many fled their posts. Some, however, led the charge against the shadow before them.  Two flew ahead of the others, snagged in the limbs of the cloak and spun behind the Ghost as wild projectiles towards their cherished monarch, barely recovered from the feathered onslaught as they crashed together. Gilda soared across the room before sliding to a halt at the rear of the remaining drones, mercilessly swiping until she met the Ghost in the middle.  “When are the others getting here?” Gilda barked, tossing a drone aside. “They’re on their way, just keep going.” One by one they fell, armored piles of trembling soldiers falling behind them as the rising queen found the duo mere steps away from her. “My drones, sent running by a gryphon and a walking carpet? I’ll see you both are drained and fed to my subjects until you beg for death.” “This devilish deception ends, Chrysalis. Surrender, or prepare for justice.”  “Bah, I control all of Canterlot! Not even Shield Wall with his pretty little trinket could defeat me, what chance do you have?” As Chrysalis boasted, the Ghost could see glimmers of azure magic in the distance. “No more chances, Chrysalis. For all those set to flame at your order, you will surrender!” Her body rippled, shifting her chitin and sending the churning muscle into a spasm as Chrysalis released a shriek that shook the walls, trembling stained glass windows threatening to sunder from the pressure before the queen launched herself towards Gilda and the Ghost. She collided with him first, uncaring of the flailing lengths of cloth around her. Gilda spun and charged with anxious claws outstretched, but the queen’s chitin withstood her barrage, so much so the queen merely bucked her back hooves square into the gryphon’s chest. Her attention returned to the Ghost. Snarling, dripping fangs emerged from the ever-widening mouth glimmering with the sick magic falling from her horn. He struck wherever was available, but the same blows which felled Sulcus merely tickled Chrysalis, fueling her wicked grin. But everything turned to a blur when a free length of the cloak shot up from his hoof around her exposed throat, twisting enough to make her gag. Newfound leverage and a swift strike to her eye was his escape from the charging power on her horn. She lurched back, firing the incomplete spell into a broken bloom tearing across the floor, nearly slicing into Gilda’s tail as she rolled to the side, but she took her chance to engage. With the sudden weight of Gilda on her back and the unyielding pressure of the cloak around her limbs, Chrysalis almost didn’t notice the clashing shimmer of magic at the edge of the room, followed by white fur. “Gah!” Insectoid wings ejected from her back and beat furiously against the air, pulling herself and her enemies into the open air before spinning, casting them both aside. From above her eyes locked onto Rarity, who pressed herself against the cocoons. “I see you, Rarity! You thought this distraction would be enough to protect you?” On command flew piercing bolts of green from her horn, uncaring if they struck the captured ponies beside their target. The show of force made her laugh, until her breath was stolen by darkness. Shadowy limbs held her head as the Ghost and Gilda strained against the queen’s powerful wings. Her balance was stolen with a final yank and brought her crashing against the floor.  “Rarity,” the Ghost cried. “You and Alate hurry up! Get the princesses before-” Breath left him as the cloak was pulled, with him along with it, along the floor towards the fuming Chrysalis. “I’ll see you as food for my subjects! If my tools cannot end the traitor’s legacy, I will!” “End this, bitch!” This was the strike that cut deep, Gilda’s claws catching between the plates of her carapace. The queen howled and crumpled under the pain. While the battle raged between the three, Rarity lurked from behind cover to the largest of the cocoons. Within, she found the foggy forms of two royal alicorns, and one lavender one. Glimmering swipes of her horn sliced across the ichor and summoned a gush of fluid from within, but she failed to hear the labored hiss from behind. Before Rarity could face the drone it was caught in a tangle of rags, pulled from its hooves and cast to the ground before Rarity. “All things considered, Alate, your timing is impeccable.” Alate nodded as she knelt beside Rarity, digging her hooves into the cocoon to free the Princess of the Night from her bonds. Luna mumbled, unresponsive to the world around her, but still breathing. “Thank goodness. Alate, can you help move them out? I need to free the others before Chrysalis stops us.” “Then hurry, Silver and Gilda won’t last much longer.” Alate spared no time in pulling the slumbering princess from the throne room, but the scene Rarity witnessed filled her with dread. The queen stood over the Ghost, who shielded Gilda from the onslaught of magical fire with the cloak. Trading blows and moving in unison only took the duo so far against their foe. Her strength resisted Gilda’s attempts to overpower, her speed more than enough to evade even the Ghost’s fastest strikes, and with the bottomless well of magical power unleashed upon them Chrysalis was a flood of unbridled violence. It tormented Rarity to watch, and her thoughts wandered to the slender object protruding from her saddlebag with each moment Chrysalis loomed over her friends. “You thought to overthrow me? You should’ve killed Shield Wall when you could, now all of Equestria will bow before their true queen, and not even-... augh!” The Ghost dared to peek over the edge of the cloak, following the fresh, twisted wound along Chrysalis’ side to find the white unicorn standing across from them with her hooves clutching the dark horn. Rarity struggled to stand while her magic was pulled from her as fuel for the curse she fired, her eyes turning pale and framed by the horn’s sizzling aura. Seeing this, the Ghost summoned all his strength and the power of the cloak into one bone-shattering blow against the fresh wound, sending the queen into a painful spiral against the wall.  “Gilda, get to her!” His command was immediately acknowledged as Gilda sped off, leaving him alone to face the changeling queen as she rose to her hooves, seething, beating her wings with a hum to launch herself towards him, fury on her face. Breath escaped his lungs as the Ghost was lifted from the world in a violent charge. He felt glass shatter on his back, wind whip across his face, and the night sky above spun as the queen pivoted in the air and brought them both back down onto the roof of the palace, shattering the tile. The Ghost groaned, dizzy from the hit, his attention pulled to the simmering green glow above him as its source charged with power. Upon release, the Ghost reached up and ensnared the queen’s neck under his leg, slamming her muzzle into the roof and rolling away, dodging the wild swipes and magical runoff of Chrysalis’ spell. She growled as she stood. Shards of the roof were caught in wreaths of power, rising around her prey, and with no way out the Ghost pulled the cloak over his entire person as the shards closed in on him. They broke with each strike, transforming into a magically-fueled cloud of blades chasing him as a swarm. Their chase continued across the roof, each new swipe leaving its mark on the Ghost’s failing armor, hungry for blood, pushing him to the teetering edge of the palace’s main structure and the plummeting fall below, but the Ghost wasted no time. To the queen’s surprise he leaped over the edge, and as she followed his trail downwards she barely caught the lengths of the cloak cast from him: one onto a windowsill, and one onto her. Chrysalis howled and thrashed against the tendril’s bind, but her balance was compromised with the Ghost’s weight pulling her down.  Beyond the palace, rows of armor-plated soldiers clashed with changeling drones. Some of the guards looked up to see the two tumble from the palace walls, the pony in black driving his legs into the changeling queen’s stomach and bringing her down onto the balcony with a crash, drawing the attention of the battle below. A towering stained glass window framed their final bout, with all eyes on the two as magic traded with precise strikes in a dance of death. Once Chrysalis found the Ghost’s chest exposed, she charged a thin, piercing bolt with a wicked grin, until dripping blood announced the fresh cut along the base of her horn, screaming as her magic faded away. The cloak whipped back to its master with a snap. “Y-You… you dare!” She dragged her hoof across her blood-stained forehead. “Countless more will pay for this transgression! I will see this, and every city in Equestria burn just as I burned your home!” “I am done with threats and speeches. This terror ends tonight!” “Putrid little worm! You are-” “I am the living phantom! The monster who hunts loathsome villains like you! You cannot escape me, you cannot kill me, and if you won’t heed the cry of those put to flame then you will heed the pitiless judgement of the Ghost!” It was all they needed to throw themselves at each other one final time, meeting in a clash of might and magic. She bolted around him in all directions with streams of power flying from her horn, but one well-placed swipe of the cloak was all he needed, adding to the gruesome length of the dripping wound on her side. She howled, still throwing her strength into smothering the shadow assaulting her. A blow to the chin, a swipe at the legs, the singe of fire, wounds slowly covered the two with each blow they landed, but finally Chrysalis unleashed the same shriek from before, this time shattering the weakened windows of the palace and raining their glass onto them all. Power dripped from her horn, illuminating the unnatural scowl, pointing her horn directly towards the Ghost. Fire flew forth. One leap was all he had in his weary legs, the cloak pulling him forward into the path of the blast. Then, with the cloak in hoof, he met the bolt of power with all his remaining strength. Searing heat and crackling fury surged behind the blast as it pushed against his resolve, and the Ghost felt his very flesh begin to give way under its might, until he pivoted. He angled his hoof downward, rolling the spell along the length of his protected limb, allowing the flowing motion of his foreleg to capture its momentum and launch it back along his hoof with a pained shout. Chrysalis couldn’t move, she barely saw it coming. A scream announced the burst of power sent to engulf her, casting her across the floor as a chittering, searing shape, toppling through the window behind her and plunging into the ruined lobby of the palace, crashing as a smoldering shape amongst her fallen drones. When the Ghost landed beside her he nearly collapsed. Heavy breaths fell from his lips as he clutched his foreleg, hissing through his teeth at the contact, but never averting his eyes from the fumbling queen. Smoke arose from her chitin as she writhed before him. She would cast him a glare, sending threats with her eyes and feeble glimmers of her horn, but soon she surrendered to the pain surging through her body, releasing the Ghost from his vigil as he hobbled to Gilda and Rarity, standing in the doorway to the throne room. Rarity looked to him with tired eyes, a thin smile upon her face. He snapped at the sound of hissing from beyond the walls, grabbing his cloak with weary hooves and preparing for the worst, but from the lobby doorway came the shouts of not just changelings, but soldiers pouring into the royal hall, spreading out to witness the shocking end of the battle. The queen lay defeated, at the hooves of the Ghost. As more and more of the prisoners emerged from their casings, the Ghost watched a familiar face emerge from the growing crowd of soldiers filling the throne room, gliding towards him and skidding to a halt across the tarnished floor. “Ghost!” Kindle shouted. “We need to move. He’s escaped.” Strength surged through him once more. The bolt of shadow tore through the crowd and out the throne room door, following Kindle closely as the two rounded the corner and burst out from the palace. Kindle hovered above him to scan the surrounding scene, not noticing the Ghost whip a length of the cloak up towards a flag pole and pull himself to a new vantage, eyes falling on a distant shape hobbling away. Soldiers and frightened citizens drawn by the sounds of battle followed his arcing leap across the night sky, a chorus of gasps rising from below as he spread the cloak to glide towards his desperate prey.