//------------------------------// // Aliens // Story: Children of Darkness and Light // by Aquaman //------------------------------// === “That was where we met, on the road back there. And… the wagon. That’s why I stopped a minute ago. There was this farmer, old, probably my dad’s age. One of his wagon’s back wheels had broken, and he was just cursing up a storm, half Equestrian, half Mizuman, like a radio that wouldn’t stay on one station. Would’ve been funny, y’know, if… anyway, I guess he got the wheel fixed. Just took too long. Wrong place at the wrong time…” === Garnet didn’t see the Princess arrive, and maybe that was for the best. A single Crystallian soldier this deep in Mizuman territory could be written off as a misplaced spy, or maybe an unlucky survivor from a thopter shot down in the surrounding hills. Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria being here was no accident, and much worse than just misfortune. It was a promise of change — of the state of the war and the world that war enveloped, and far too rapid to avoid casualties along the way. Thankfully, the Princess understood who she was and where she wasn’t supposed to be, so she approached Garnet on hoof and obscured by a shapeless brown cloak, with only her chin and a stray lock of hair — both magically dyed red, rather than their usual shades of royal purple — poking out from the shadows inside her hood. He knew it was her at a glance, though. No amount of dye or magic could hide the loping gait of an Equestrian amidst the wider stances of native-born Mizumans, especially not an Equestrian princess. “Sunshine?” he murmured anyway, just to make sure. “Eclipse,” Twilight softly replied, and she pushed her hood back just enough to meet the eyes of the soldier before her. “Good to see you, Staff Sergeant.” “Likewise, ma’am.” On the far side of the road, a squat crystal stallion — opaque blue, with a scraggly white beard and a brow to match — gave his disabled wagon an irritated slap, then stalked around to its rear and threw back the cover from its bed, muttering as he rooted around for a set of as-yet invisible tools. Once Garnet was sure the farmer couldn’t see them, he nodded for Twilight to follow him and trotted off the road, doing his best to keep the brambles he pushed through from catching on the Princess’s cloak. It was an easy walk through the forest, and the thoroughfare they’d met upon soon vanished behind indistinguishable chestnut tree trunks. Save for hooffalls on undergrowth and the whisper of wind through the leaves overhead, the trip passed in silence for a while, until Twilight broke it in a low tone that wouldn’t carry past Garnet’s ears. “How are things here? Any trouble from the Mizumans?” Garnet shook his head. “They’re spread pretty thin in this area. Focused on the skies and the city’s outskirts. We haven’t even seen a scout in days, let alone met one.” “And how are you feeling? The troops? Do you need reinforcements, supplies?” Another shake of his head. If he’d been standing still, Garnet would’ve paired it with a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind a smoke if you got it.” “I, um… sorry, I don’t–” “That was a joke, ma’am.” “Ah… yes. Of course.” They walked another quarter-mile, around a downslope covered in dark-brown leaves and over a tiny brook that gurgled politely as its two visitors carefully avoided disturbing its natural flow. Finally, Twilight asked the question she’d been dancing around before. “How she’s doing? Is she…” “She’s fine,” Garnet replied. “Far as I know, anyway. Seems in good spirits. Mane’s clean. Not much else to report.” Twilight took a breath she meant to expel as another question, but Garnet stuck out a hoof and stopped them both in their tracks. The forest around them hadn’t changed — the tree trunks still swayed, and the leaves still rustled softly. It was the air that had gone still, inhaled without exhaling, settled onto lumps in the forest floor shaped precisely like unremarkable drifts of twigs and dirt. Garnet stared into one of them, and a silver cylinder of iron stared back at him. Twilight startled. The staff sergeant didn’t. “Sunshine,” a lump to his right whispered. “Eclipse,” he told the one in front of him. The lump shifted, and a unicorn — face and fatigues streaked with dirt, twin copper tags clinking on a chain around his neck — rose from behind it, popping the safety latch under his rifle’s stock and shouldering the weapon as he nodded in greeting. “Didn’t tell us you had a date, Sarge,” the soldier said, twitching his brow towards the Princess as more lumps around him materialized into Crystallian enlisted. “Woulda shaved.” “There’s lots of things I don’t tell you, Private,” Garnet replied, “‘Specially when you haven’t shaved.” “It’s for the ladies, not you.” “Let us know when you bag one, I’ll ask her what she thinks of it.” The private made a gesture with his forehoof that made the Princess startle again, then nodded back behind him. “Got back just in time,” he remarked as Garnet and Twilight passed him by. “Heard we’re pushing up soon.” Twilight looked at Garnet, who said nothing. He’d heard the same. And then he’d heard he was being taken off patrol to escort a Very Important Pony to what must be one hell of an important meeting. “This way, Princess,” he muttered once the forward scouts were out of earshot. “Outpost’s just over this hill.”