//------------------------------//
// Aggressive Regimen 
// Story: My Little Praetor: Phthisis is Magic 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

That night saw many a ticket purchased, many a train ridden. Some fled for parts unknown, or at least obscure. Others came to the heart of Equestria from its edges, most of them driven by duty and pride. Some were pulled by the ties of family, others by the chance to ply skills that, while unwelcome by many, were always in demand.

In the Everfree, lagomath envoys spread amongst the nocturnal beasts, spreading word of war with a force far greater and more dangerous than the hoof of pony.

In the Drakenridge, griffins and Diamond Dogs licked their wounds and whetted their blades, readying themselves for the next day's conflict against the iron-shelled aberrations that would steal their home out from under them.

In Canterlot, the stars themselves danced according to their mistress's whim. Astronomers and astrologers across the world would cry foul, but Ungula needed all the help it could get, and even goddesses had their analogues to prayer.

The next day promised to be a momentous one. It would not disappoint.

There are almost as many ways to awaken as there are sleepers: Alarm clocks, splashes of cold water, dramatic cries in the deserts of Arrakis, the list goes on.

This morning, Rainbow Dash rediscovered her least favorite of these methods, an eagle the size of a lion screeching in her ear.

The pegasus gave a panicked, wordless whinny as she reared up, wings flared, eyes darting wildly for an escape route. Her adrenaline-sharpened senses detected a hint of predatory musk, a prickle of hungry magic, a familiar, raspy laugh—

Hay, wait a minute.

Dash's conscious mind finally reasserted control, allowing her to glare at the griffin who was all but rolling on her bedroom floor. "Really, G?"

Gilda composed herself. Mostly. A chuckle or two escaped her smirking beak before she replied, "Come on, Dash. I owe you a lot more than that for last time. Besides, my CO says nothin' wakes you up like fight-or-flight."

"Yeah, well, that may work for griffins, but—" Rainbow paused as one detail registered. "See-oh?"

Gilda casually examined her talons. "Well, after my best friend gave me the brush-off, I didn't have a lot of options."

"G, I—"

"Jo– Oh, you ever meet my sister Jocasta? Anyway, she put in a good word for me when I got home and I started Basic a week later." She gave a sardonic grin. "Centurion Gilda grr-Gisela of the 105th Skirmishers, at your service."

Dash shifted from hoof to hoof for a moment. "Um, congratulations?"

Gilda sighed. "Ponies."

"What's that supposed to mean!?" cried the pegasus.

"You lame-os just can't wrap your grass-eater brains around anything military. Think about it, Dash. First time I show up after that pink maniac's so-called party and I tell you I'm a soldier." Gilda tapped Dash's forehead. "News Flash: This ain't a social call."

Dash glowered as she batted away the offending talon. "Okay, G? What you just said was so full of horseapples, I'm amazed your tongue didn't turn brown."

The griffin rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Dash."

Rainbow shook her head. "Oh no, you don't get to 'whatever' away this one. First of all, 'grass-eater brains'? Really? Last I checked, wheat was a grass, you donut fiend.

"As for the military, I got one word for you: Pegasopolis. There's a loop-de-looping statue of Commander Typhoon in front of City Hall in Cloudsdale. The Griffin Emperor was called Grigori the Handsome before she met up with him. Know what they called him afterwards?"

"Grigori Broken-Beak," Gilda grudgingly grumbled. "Since when do you know anything about history?"

Dash gave a wingshrug, belying her smug grin. "I paid attention in class now and again. Especially when kicking flank was involved." She certainly wasn't going to admit that she'd borrowed some history books from the library after reading Daring Do and the Helm of Hurricane.

A growl rumbled in the back of Gilda's throat. "Look, I'm not here to argue who beat up who hundreds—"

"Thousands."

"A whole feathering lot of years ago!" The griffin took a deep breath. "Your princesses sent a request for aid to the High Aerie."

"Oh." Dash shifted uneasily. "Um, wow. Didn't know it was that serious. Um, shouldn't you be in Canterlot, then?"

Gilda shrugged. "Eh, like they're gonna miss one squawk for a few hours."

Dash frowned. "So, what, you went AWOL just to say 'Hi'?"

Gilda looked down, worrying at the fluffy flooring. "Dash, this is war we're talking about. I could get killed. I... I didn't want your last memory of me be me with my hackles up, calling you a flip-flop." She gave a grim chuckle. "I mean, I could've at least come up with a better insult."

"G..."

The griffin sighed and stood up. "This was a mistake. I should go."

Before Dash could stop her, Gilda sank through the floor. By the time the mare made it outside, her foalhood friend was already a speck receding towards Canterlot. Dash watched as the distance grew, both physically and metaphorically, her heart heavy.

This lasted for all of about five seconds. "Rut this." In a blast of exhaust and a reversal of the food chain, the pegasus chased after the griffin.

"Aaaaand... done!" Twilight beamed at her work, a vastly more efficient portal than the one she'd torn down... huh. There was a question.

"Drone?" she called. The lump of spare organs had refused any other attempts to name it. "How long have I been working on this?"

"By Equestrian time," came the dull, uninflected reply, "eleven hours, thirty-seven minutes, forty...-five seconds."

"Well worth it, I think," Twilight said proudly. "Now to test the thing." She moved to the control console and flipped the big, friendly looking switch in the middle.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the light in the polished archway began to spiral like water down a drain. In the center of the distortion, a pinhole of clarity formed, then rapidly dilated, revealing a coastline. The countless piers, impressive buildings, and verdigrised colossus in the harbor identified it as Manehattan.

"Success!" cried Twilight. "Huzzah!"

"Well done, Miss Sparkle. Well done, indeed."

The unicorn jumped, adding in a half-spin midway to face her unexpected audience with a smile. "Thank you, sir!"

"Now," prompted Jin-Gitaxias, "are there any other faults in the Progress Engine that only an outsider's perspective can detect?"

Twilight considered this. It was a topic she'd been pondering during the duller moments of component assembly. "Well, since you asked..."

Fluttershy took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It didn't work. There were just too many strange, loud ponies in what was supposed to be her personal sanctum. She took another deep breath. Then another. She stopped when she began to feel lightheaded and decided to just go for it. A mantra of assertiveness surfaced in her memory. "Never wait or hesitate," she whispered.

"Beg pardon?" Big Macintosh wasn't going to comment on the heavy breathing; he seemed to have that effect on some mares. Normally, he'd do the same with muttering, but with Fluttershy, it could've been an attempt to strike up a conversation. Stranger things had happened.

"Oh! Nothing, nothing." The pegasus took a sudden, deep interest in a clump of moss.

Neither spoke for some time. Finally, Fluttershy gathered enough courage to squeak out, "Um, Big Mac?"

"Eeyup?"

"Th-this is going to be very dangerous."

"Eeyup," the stallion said solemnly.

"Are you scared?"

Macintosh considered what he'd heard from Applejack and Zecora, the wounds scarring the timberwolf that had died in Granny Smith's lap, the rumors trickling in on Twilight Sparkle's madness. No, he could not deny the icy knot of dread in his heart. "Eeyup."

Fluttershy swallowed, her mouth drier than the San Palomino Desert. This was it. The moment of truth. "D-do you think that—"

"Cousin Macintosh!" Braeburn trotted towards them excitedly. "Cousin Applejack wants t' talk with ya!" He noticed Fluttershy and tipped his hat. "Howdy, Miss Fluttershy. She'd like t' see you too, if y' ain't busy."

For a moment, a flame of rage roared in the mare's heart. With a sigh, she let it peter out. "Okay." Another time, she told herself, when their doom didn't lurk on the horizon.

As the trip walked to the improvised army's de facto general, Fluttershy felt something brush against her side. Her gaze darted up from the ground. Big Mac smiled and gave her a wink.

Applejack was with Zecora at a table with a piece of paper. Each mare had a pencil in her mouth, and together they were composing as much of a map as the Everfree would tolerate. When she noticed the trio of approaching ponies, the farmhoof gave her friend a worried look. "Everything okay there, 'Shy?"

The pegasus blinked. "Hmm?"

"'Tween yer face an' yer wings," Applejack elaborated, "y' look like y' seen a ghost."

Fluttershy looked back. Her wings were erect. Almost painfully so, now that she noticed. "Eep!" She furled them so fast that she rose a few inches. Her face felt like a bonfire.

None of the Apples knew quite what to make of this. Finally, Applejack said, "Guess Ah'll take that as a 'yes.'"

"Whaddaya need, Sis?"

AJ hesitated. Coming from anypony else, that might have been said with undue haste, but Big Macintosh had said it. "Big Macintosh" and "undue haste" only appeared in the same sentence in "love poison" was in there as well. Dismissing the matter, the freckled mare said, "Git everypony t'gether. An' th' rabbits too."

Braeburn frowned. "Ah don't trust them varmints. 'Tain't natural."

"Many of them don't trust us," noted Fluttershy.

The Appleoosan balked at this. "What! We've been right hospitable to' em!"

The pegasus nodded. "I know. That's the problem."

Braeburn just stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and turned away. "Cuz, Ah'm gonna go gather th' family," he said over his shoulder. "Tell me when yer friend starts makin' sense again."

Applejack gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Fluttershy. If that colt can't wrap 'is head 'round an idea in th' time it takes t' buck a tree, he don't bother with it."

"It's fine. They do trust you and me, since we're Bearers, and Zecora, since they know her. They're just uneasy around most ponies. They think we'll take away their independence."

Applejack nodded. "Well, go an' ask 'em nice-like. We need all th' help we kin get, an' Ah wanna stay on their good side."

Fluttershy returned the nod. "Of course."

As the pegasus trotted off, curiosity gnawed at Zecora. "Applejack, if I may ask, why did you request this task?"

"Ah reckon there's certain things what need doin' at a time like this, an' Ah aim t' do 'em."

The zebra frowned. "I don't quite grasp what you've opined. Just what did you have in mind?"

"Ah'm gonna rally th' troops with an inspirin' speech."

Several choice couplets rushed to the tip of Zecora's tongue. Before she could voice them, there came a sound that was heard as much as felt, a deep rumble that came up through hooves and bones. The zebra gave her friend a look that blended amazement and respect. "A mighty growl that I would place as worse than those of beasts we face."

Applejack scowled at the ground. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don't ya."

Zecora offered a conciliatory smile. "I just observe, I do not mock. About this would you like to talk?"

The farmhoof snickered. "Yer soundin' like that one puppet thing in Barn Wars." Her expression swiftly returned to seriousness. "But actually? Ah think Ah should. Ah've bin tryin', but Ah cain't ignore this."

"For energy, you understand, your body has a great demand," Zecora reminded her. "You've hunger beyond your control to make you feed your growing soul."

"Ah know, but if at this rate, mah stomach's gonna put Sweet Apple Acres outta business."

The zebra quirked an eyebrow. "Applejack, I truly yearn that that could be your worst concern."

"Well," AJ added, "it also ain't right t' seem like Ah'm more worried 'bout food than th' army what's up an' decided Ah'm in charge of it."

Zecora nodded, her gaze distant. "Hmm..."

"That a good hmm or a bad hmm?"

"While at the moment I'm not sure, the idea has a strange allure." The shaman nodded to herself as she considered the thought. "You'd need not endlessly devour if you could feed on verdant power."

Applejack tilted her head. "Care t' run that one by me again, Sugarcube?"

Zecora shook her head. "This is not the place or time." She then gave a sheepish grin and admitted, "Plus, the terms are hard to rhyme. For now, go lead your soldier herds, and later I'll have found the words."

Bunnies and buckers were beginning to filter into the clearing. Applejack nodded. "Whatever y' say, Zecora. Ah'm sure whatever's got ya thinkin' is gonna help."

"I thank you for your faith in me. Now go and give your homily."

"Right." The mare turned to her growing audience. She could see Braeburn, Fluttershy, and Mac bringing in the stragglers. Good a time as any.

Applejack cleared her throat, which did a lot more to quiet down the murmuring conversations than she'd expected. After a moment of hesitation from all the eyes on her, she began. "Hares, family, Fluttershy, lend me yer ears. Y'all've been called here t'day t' face an evil th' likes o' which y'all've probably never seen. Ah won't lie to ya; this ain't gonna be nice, it ain't gonna be fun, an' it ain't gonna be pretty. What it is is necessary. If we don't root out the nasty critters what're gettin' a hoofhold in th' Everfree, then th' whole dang world might as well turn around an' kiss its sweet patoot goodbye."

Applejack's gaze panned across her audience as she began to pace. "Some o' you Ah've known fer years, an' them Ah trust, with mah life if necessary. Others Ah'm meetin' fer th' first time t'day, but Ah like t' think o' mahself as a good judge o' character, an y' know what? Lookin' at ya, Ah trust you too." She grinned. "Now who's ready t' kick some flank?"

She was answered by a chorus of cheers, whistles, thrown hats, and an almost inaudible "Yay."

Sheoldred pondered the pink pony perched prostrate upon her. It had finally stopped talking, thank the Father. Indeed, it seemed to be less asleep than run down, as though it were a thing not of flesh but of clockwork.

It would be so easy to end the thing here and now, but if there was one vice the Whispering One shared with her chromed brother, it was curiosity. The pony seemed utterly harmless, yet it had slain three of the Steel Thanes in a matter of hours. The creature's innocuous lethality intrigued Sheoldred, as did its necklace. A shame the jewelry had already fused with its wearer's body; it was clearly an item of great power. Ah well, she could flense it from the pony's corpse when it had outlived its novelty.

Hmm. Best get on that. Sheoldred extended a hand, gently but firmly driving her claws into Pinkie Pie's head. "Let the examination begin," mused the praetor.

Rarity looked up, blinking as her strained eyes struggled to refocus on details larger than a grain of rice. "I do believe it is complete," she proclaimed, setting down the magnifier and numerous fine tools with which she had made the final adjustments to the "living accessory" socket.

Spike nodded. "When would you like to begin the implantation, my Lady?"

The fashionista sighed. "We'd best get it over with sooner rather than later." Swathed in periwinkle magic, a sterile cloth draped itself over the measuring stage. Rarity lay down on the fabulous dais, spine up. "Right shoulder, please, Spike."

The mutated dragon took a scalpel in claw, but hesitated. A drop of makeshift disinfectant (a bottle of finest Stalliongrad vodka from a grateful member of House Orlov) dripped from the blade. "Forgive me for the impending discomfort, my Lady."

"A small price to pay, darling, I assure you."

A habit ingrained in Spike during such procedures came to the fore. Both dragon and pony couldn't help but think that Twilight would be proud to hear her assistant/little brother/son announce, "Making the first incision."

"...and you really should have done more to preserve earlier bodies of knowledge," continued Twilight. "I mean, how many answers are you struggling to rediscover when they were written in scrolls you've destroyed all along?" She paused for a moment. "I think that's it."

"Ah. Well." Gitaxias gave an absent nod. "That should certainly fill any holes in my calendar this month. Thank you, Miss Sparkle. You may go now."

Twilight didn't move. "But that's just what's wrong! I haven't even gotten to what could be right."

"You. May. Go. Now." Hard as it was to notice, Gitaxias seemed to be gritting his teeth.

"Um, yes. Right. Bye!" The unicorn galloped off.

The praetor rubbed his distended cranium. "Maybe there really can be too much of a good thing."

"So, how'd Ah do?"

"At times it was trite, at others absurd, but not the worst pre-battle speech that I've heard."

Applejack quirked an eyebrow. She'd talked to Rarity often enough to know when she was being damned with faint praise. "What was, if y' don't mind mah askin'?"

Zecora's gaze grew distant, focused on the past. In a deeper voice than usual, she recited, "'The shamans say they've got a plan, but just in case, here. It's called a spear. Keep the sharp end pointed away from you and hope one of the bastards runs into it while charging.'" She smiled. "Thankfully, I never had to use it. Our foes grew so ill they could not even—"

"Hold that thought." Scowling, Applejack charged into the ranks. "Apple Bloom! What in Equestria d' you think yer doin', filly!?"

The little pony defiantly returned the scowl. "Ah'm helpin' save th' world, that's what!"

"No y' ain't. Git back home; th' Everfree ain't no place fer youngins at th' best o' times, an' these sure as hay ain't them."

Apple Bloom shook her head. "It's mah duty as an Apple. Ah ain't even th' youngest here!" Judging by the look of shock, her brain then caught up with her tongue. "Oops."

Terror, rage, and love warred in Applejack's heart, and only the most skilled empaths would've been able to distinguish them. Finally, with surprising calm, she said, "Right now, Bloom, yer duty as an Apple is t' stay safe."

"But—"

"No buts. Yer like a seed right now, darlin'. Cute as a button an' full o' potential, but it'll all be wasted if y' try t' do a tree's job 'fore ya sprout. Go an' fetch th' other foals. Y'all shouldn't be fighters; yer what we're fightin' for." Applejack embraced her sister. "Please."

Muffled against her shoulder, the farmhoof heard, "Ah guess Ah ain't gonna earn mah cutie mark in heroin', am Ah?"

"Ain't nothin' heroic 'bout what we're gonna do t'day, Bloom. Now git."

As Applejack watched Apple Bloom gather her fellow seeds, a warm voice sounded at the older sister's shoulder. "You may have kept her safe today, but she'll still try to get her way."

The blonde sighed. "Ah know. Jest another reason t' get this done quick, 'fore she does somethin' we'll all regret."

Zecora nodded. "With would-be child soldiers gone, we'll likely march before too long. You're certain that you will not ask for Ponyville's help with this task?"

"Ah called mah kin fer a reason, Zecora. We need ponies who ain't been raised on horror stories o' th' Everfree, who're used to a canopy overhead. Ponyville's good folk, but fear o' th' forest's in their bones."

"And you, young mare? Will you withstand manure when it hits the fan?"

Applejack's expression clouded. "Well, like Ah said, this ain't mah first rodeo. Still..." She shook her head. "Ah'll try mah best, but Ah ain't makin' any promises, fer me or mah kin."

"I've little fear you will defect," the zebra assured her. "Just keep in mind what you protect."

Applejack watched a line of little bodies headed back to Sweet Apple Acres, a bright red bow at the front. "Don't think that'll be a problem."

"Pinkie..."

"Mmm... don' wanna move rocks."

"Pinkie..."

"Wanna make apple pie from scratch. Gotta make a universe."

"Mom!"

This shocked the party pony out of her dozing. "Huh?" She looked around. Ground like a black-and-red checkered Superball. A sky filled with floating, disembodied smiles with a wide variety in dental formulae and degrees of hygiene. Seething calderas of hot chocolate, where half-molten, marshmallow-based life lurked. "What am I doing in my dementia space?" asked Pinkie.

"You're dreaming."

Pinkie turned to the voice and gasped. An unadorned alicorn, her eyes kind and sincere, her coat white as blank pages, her mane red as life's blood. The planeswalker didn't need to check for an inkwell cutie mark to recognize her. "Lauren?"

Discord's sister waved her head from side to side noncommittally. "Sort of. The bit of her that's in the Element of Laughter, at least."

"What is it?" Pinkie asked. "You've never tried to contact me like this before, so it must be important."

"It is." Lauren strode to a thick river of chocolava, her hooves making no impression on the hyperelastic surface of Pinkie's insanity made manifest. Her mother followed, considerably bouncier.

The alicorn dipped a hoof into the confectothermal liquid. As she pulled it out, six perfect spheres dripped off of the appendage. They arranged themselves into a pentagram, one at each point, one in the center, threads of igneous cocoa connecting them all. "These are the Elements of Harmony at their most fundamental," said Lauren. "Six parts of a whole, together yet separate, able to act, but only with the aid of a uniting agency." The chocolate came together and reshaped itself into a self-portrait of the spirit of order and harmony. "In time, once I had sufficiently rested, I could, in theory, restore myself."

Pinkie didn't miss the past tense. "Could?"

The pentagram reformed itself. "Well, the glistening oil complicated that," Lauren explained. The connecting strings thinned and broke apart. "The Elements are... not so much drifting apart as asserting individual identities independent of the whole. Independent of me." Each sphere formed itself into a pony, two of each tribe in total. "You and the other Bearers can still come together to use the Rainbow Beam of Fix Everything, but it won't be me doing the fixing. It'll be you."

"So what happens to you?" Pinkie cried. She wrapped her daughter in a massive hug. "I... I don't want to see you..."

Wings enveloped the pink mare. "I won't," Lauren assured her. "Especially not when Discord's set a precedent. Ever hear of the collective unconscious?"

Pinkie's answer was cut short by a loud scream. Mother and daughter looked up and saw what appeared to be a spider with too few legs, perpetually falling into one of the smiling sky-mouths and out of the one directly above it.

"Huh," noted Pinkie. "Uninvited guest." A clanking, rattling abomination that blurred the line between winged gila monster, oven, and Abrams tank clambered to her side. "Time to roll out the welcome wyvern."

Apple Family Posse 1GG
Creature — Pony
Trample
Apple Family Posse's power and toughness are each equal to the number of green permanents you control.
Nopony messes with the family.
*/*

Haunting Whispers XBB
Sorcery
Search target opponent's library for up to X cards and exile them. Then that player shuffles his or her library.
Every little uncertainty, every nagging doubt, every moment of hesitation is another puppet string for Sheoldred to pull.