//------------------------------// // Mistaken Identities // Story: Marks of Harmony // by Lapis-Lazuli and Stitch //------------------------------// Gdocs Version Marks of Harmony Part 9 “No, no,” Pinkie Pie stressed as she muttered to herself, “that makes me sound like a big meanie host.” Spike grumbled incomprehensibly for the seventeenth time, crumpling up and tossing over a sheet of parchment into a pile of similarly crunched pieces of paper. “Don’t complain Spike,” Twilight reprimanded him. “We want Inky to have a choice in coming, but it can’t seem like a threat. Just take your time, Pinkie.” “But I’ve never written a party invitation that somepony has had to come to!” Pinkie fretted. “Ponies just want to come because my parties are so exciting!” “Or because they’re scared of you,” Spike mumbled sarcastically. “What was that!?” Pinkie snapped, zipping nose-to-nose with Spike. “I was... um... just saying maybe... maybe it’s because... heh heh... they’re scared it’ll be their last party,” Spike stuttered, attempting desperately to avoid being berated by Pinkie. “Oh! Maybe that’s it too!” Pinkie immediately brightened as if she had never been upset with Spike. “But I’d hate to think of every party being your last party.” “Could you focus on the invitation you two?” Twilight asked impatiently. “It would be best if we could get it out to him before lunch. What sort of celebration would Aurora want him to go to?” “A cupcake eating contest!” Pinkie Pie said enthusiastically. “No, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight answered wearily, “though I think she did enjoy the ones you sent her.” “Ooh good!” Pinkie said, bouncing up. “Maybe I should make some more...” “Pinkie!” Twilight shouted, having lost any patience she may have had upon initially bringing her friend over to dictate the invitation. “Oh right, the fake invitation,” Pinkie turned back to Spike, flashing an apologetic smile to Twilight first. “Aha! How about a Devices-Are-Totally-Awesome-Celebration party!” Pinkie burst out after a few moments, startling both Spike and Twilight. “Hey, that’s a good one!” Spike heartily agreed with her after recovering from a skipped heartbeat. They bumped hoof and claw, Pinkie winking to Spike. “What’d you think Twilight?” “It makes sense,” Twilight pondered slowly. “I just worry that it’s a bit too obvious and that she’ll see it’s a trap.” “Not if I mention there’ll be cider!” Pinkie piped up. “The cider was flowing pretty freely last night,” Spike said, despite his personal annoyance at the midnight ruckus. “Cider makes a Device party sound pretty convincing if you ask me.” “Well, I’m not sure if a bunch of drunk ponies is exactly what Aurora wants in supporters...” Twilight trailed off. “We’ve been to parties with hard cider,” Spike said. “Those weren’t drink fests.” “It’s how you cater to a party for the young crowd,” Pinkie elaborated seriously, like she was giving a lecture. “And those are the ponies the meanie-Device-allicorn wants on her side.” “Fine,” Twilight relented. “It’s not like we’ve come up with anything better. Write it.” “Ready Spike, here we go,” Pinkie said, her voice tingling with energy. He nodded, and she began to recite, “Dear Assistant Pony Inky Jay. There were a lot of ponies that were super impressed by the Devices, so we’re throwing a party to celebrate how awesome they are! We all thought it would be neat for you to come and mingle with us so you can tell us about all the kinds of neato Devices you’ve seen. There will be food and drinks, and house-made cupcakes and good ol’ hard cider! Hope to see you at SugarCube Corner! Um... Twilight, should I sign it with my name?” “By Celestia’s mane no!” Twilight stood from where she had been reading. “Aurora already knows more than she should for a pony that only got here a few days ago. We can’t risk putting any of our names on it. Leave it anonymous.” “Okie dokie lokie,” Pinkie smiled, taking the folded invitation from Spike. “I’ll go ahead and find Derpy and—” She was cut off as the door to the library was smashed in, her whole body plastered and splayed on it. Pinkie dizzily slid off, mumbling incomprehensibly as her eyes swirled around randomly. “Ooh, sorry Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said without a note of an apology in her voice. Turning rapidly to Twilight, her tone became increasingly earnest. “Twilight, we’ve gotta move. I just saw Inky Jay go into Thunderlane’s pawn shop. He’s got some new unicorn I’ve never seen before with him.” “Wait, slow down Rainbow Dash,” Twilight shook her head, trying to keep up with the speed of the sky-blue pegasus’s speech. “Inky Jay is back in Ponyville?” “I already said that!” Rainbow exclaimed, now becoming even more intense. “Don’t ask me when. I don’t know and it isn’t important. I didn’t grab him ‘cause of the unicorn. I don’t know who she is, and she—” “Okay, calm down Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said, her mind already jumping to conclusions on the unicorn’s identity. “It’s probably a Changeling, so it’s a good thing you came here first. Pinkie Pie, are you okay?” “Just a little bump on the head!” Pinkie grinned. “Good,” Twilight replied, not bothering on whether or not Pinkie’s response was entirely true. “Act like nothing’s wrong and get Derpy to deliver that letter. The party is now Plan B.” Pinkie smiled and shook her head enthusiastically before bounding away. “Rainbow, lead me and Spike to Thunderlane’s shop, I’ve never been there before.” “I get to come?!” Spike asked incredulously, pointing to himself. “They’ll underestimate you, my Number One Assistant,” Twilight said eyes scowling in focus. She threw him atop her back and galloped out the door behind a speeding Rainbow Dash. ______________________________________________________________________________ Inky Jay subtly watched the faces of all the ponies in the streets as he and the disguised Chrysalis walked side by side toward the fake suspect’s store. Many of the ponies recognized him from Aurora’s demonstration, and he could easily discern their sentiment toward him and his Lady from their not-so-hidden expressions. This much he had expected, Aurora and historical texts having taught him that in every great revolution, there were always two sides. And as he expected it, he did not let it linger in his thoughts. No, his fascination with these Celestia-inundated ponies was their looks at the pair of him and ‘Serena’. “They find my tastes in mares odd,” Inky smirked, speaking aside to Chrysalis. “And why should they not,” the Changeling queen snapped back. “By their measure of physical beauty, this form is far above your station.” “You misunderstand, as usual,” Inky inserted his jab at her. “Your beauty is not why they see our coupling as strange. I think they are wondering how I managed to attract a female in the first place.” “Hardly. There are tramps the world over willing to walk hoof-in-hoof with any stallion,” Chrysalis replied, tilting her head up ever so slightly as she looked down on him. “Their true curiosity lies in my presence alone.” “Where you found that feeling of self-importance is beyond me,” Inky scoffed, directing their walk right. “At least Aurora and I earned ours.” “I earned mine rising up to lead the greatest Changeling assault on Equestria in history,” Chrysalis growled low. “And what have you done to earn your imagined authority? Aurora at least has accomplished much in her studies.” “I survived,” Inky said sharply and coldly, sending a clear message that the direction of the conversation was not to be pursued. “Touchy about our past are we?” Chrysalis teased, enjoying having finally found something to hold over Aurora’s pesky servant. “And you aren’t? You needle me about it any more, and I will give you the truth of your past that you don’t want to hear,” Inky Jay countered. Chrysalis scowled heavily, but chose to hold back any more words; instead, she tossed her head, throwing her bushy mane out of her face. Their brisk pace brought the antagonistic pair to the pegasus’s business front earlier than Inky Jay would have liked. There were still customers leaving and congregating around the modest bagel shop, and its owner was happily popping in and out to check on the satisfaction of his patrons. “How do you propose we deal with all of the patrons,” Chrysalis asked in barely a whisper, staring much like Inky from a dark alley directly across the road. “You tell me. You’re the one who wanted to be in charge, remember?” Inky replied. “We wait,” Chrysalis decided. “As easy as it would be for me to teleport them all away, it would cause—as you say—a scene. No doubt they would all simply come running back here as well.” “The morning rush will be over soon,” Inky added, “so the other employees will probably return home until the lunch hour. We can’t move until we are sure they have all gone.” “Does Aurora know how many other ponies work for this pegasus as well?” Chrysalis asked indignantly. “Three exactly,” Inky replied without even acknowledging her offense. At least ten minutes passed in silence between the two as they watched customers come and go, waiting for any uniformed pony to depart. “There,” Inky said purposefully, nodding his head to a side entrance. A red Earth pony with a sky-blue mane was exiting the building, a formal white shirt casually unbuttoned after a morning of hard work. He was followed in short order by two mares and the dark gray pegasus owner. Their mouths moved jovially before their quarry bumped hooves with his three employees, bidding them a good day. He returned inside, but quickly reappeared outside the store-front, politely speaking to customers still eating outside. He was met with nods all around, and the ponies picked up their bagels to leave for their morning tasks. Inky felt Chrysalis move closer to his side, but she stopped when the pink sphere above them flickered momentarily. “Has that ever happened in any of her tests?” the queen asked warily, looking directly up at the dome of energy. “On occasion,” Inky answered, following her gaze, “but only when she is working with it while it is active. You see, it takes two Devices to run a defensive field. One provides the energy to regulate the field’s effects, while the other provides the raw power necessary to generate and maintain it. That flicker means Lady Aurora was siphoning power directly from one of the Devices in one of the spires.” “What would be the purpose?” Chrysalis asked forcefully, never taking her eyes from the dome. “To activate another, smaller field before it had its own power source,” Inky replied rotely. In a more annoyed tone, he added, “She’s just performing a new experiment. Stop being so paranoid.” “The last time I ignored my instincts,” Chrysalis hissed, finally bringing her eyes to Inky, “the great invasion of my devising was foiled. Something did not feel right just now, and I will not pass it by.” “Fine, but do it on your own time. Faust knows we give you enough of it,” Inky Jay replied. “Get us inside.” Chrysalis huffed, but grabbed Inky around the chest and said, “If you value living, do not breathe, open your eyes, or move during the teleportation. If you do anything, there is a real possibility of the both of us combining in increasingly gruesome ways on the other side.” “Feathers wouldn’t suit you,” Inky managed before a ring of heatless green fire erupted around them and they were drawn down into a netherworld. The feeling of teleportation was not one Inky had ever experienced before, and it was not one he was keen to try more than once. It was like being underwater—or at least what he imagined being submerged would feel like—but without the resistance. There was a weight to his body yes, but it was minimal, and was contrasted sharply by a second sensation of being completely ethereal. The magic was over before all of these effects compounded upon Inky’s mind, but he could not help but blink pointedly and breathe in large, controlled breaths. “Not all ponies have the mental fortitude for teleportation,” Chrysalis said smoothly. “Mental fortitude my flank,” Inky cursed. “I could feel my magic and my body being turned inside out. The mind can’t exactly defend against something so unnatural. Where is that pegasus?” “I can’t be sure,” Chrysalis replied, though still obviously amused at Inky’s previous discomfort as she inspected the dining area. “Stay here while I go check the back. Lower all of the blinds and turn the sign to ‘Closed’. We will ward off interference as much as possible.” “That won’t stop the determined,” Inky muttered as he and Chrysalis split up for the duties she had given. The blinds were easy enough to bring down, as was flipping the sign, but the space still felt far too vulnerable for an interrogation. Perhaps it was the simple fact that they were pursuing a false lead; that he was effectively stalling to give Aurora more time. Interrogations were supposed to go as quickly as possible, but in this instance, he was violating that cardinal rule on purpose rather than as part of a ruse. It was no help that the lowered blinds cast shafts of dull morning light across the otherwise darkened wood of the shop, and that the cheerful greetings of ponies in the streets outside could be heard through the glass panes. There was a sense of dark urgency in the room, and Inky Jay was denying it its purpose. He was jolted from these thoughts when a clattering of cookware sounded from somewhere in the back of the shop. These were followed by angry shouts that turned to muffled cries of pain. Only a moment later did Chrysalis return with a severely dazed pegasus floating within the grasp of her green magic. “Get a chair and tie him to it with this,” she ordered, shrugging a bundle of rope from her back. Inky said nothing, swinging a chair before Chrysalis where she unceremoniously dropped the stallion. The backs of the chair were perfect for restraint, being constructed of stylistic vertical poles. Inky strapped the stallion to them by his neck, chest, and forelegs along with tying his hind legs to the legs of the chair. “You dazed him,” Inky said stiffly when he was finished, “so you can wake him up.” Chrysalis obliged with a thin bolt of energy from her horn onto the captive pegasus’s muzzle. “Wha—! Ow!” he exclaimed, trying to shake his head, but ceasing from the rough touch of the rope. “Shut up!” Inky said brutally. “You speak only when spoken to, am I understood?” “Ah, ow, nnggg,” he moaned, the ropes still bothering him. “Yes.” “What is your name?” Chrysalis asked imperiously. “Who are you ponies?” the stallion asked, eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the low level of light. “Answer the question,” Inky demanded scratchily. “You are in no position to ask questions.” “Name’s Thunderlane,” the pegasus said, his face turning in the direction of Inky’s voice. “I recognize your voice, even though it’s quieter now. What does the Aurora mare want with me?” “Silence fool!” Chrysalis growled, the plurality of her voice coming out, stronger in her mounting anticipation than even in her normal speaking tone. “What she wants is not why we are here!” “That’s what you think,” Inky said forcefully to her. “Need I remind you again that this holds implications far beyond the satisfaction of your vengeance.” “Vengeance?” Thunderlane’s voice rightfully trembled at the word. “The end result is the same,” Chrysalis snapped back, “so we shall agree to disagree on what is most important here.” “I am not required to agree with you on anything,” Inky replied flatly. “Get on with it. The longer we stay here, the more we chance discovery.” “Get on point,” she said, the malice in her body language and voice reaching a peak. As Inky positioned his eyes at a crack in the blinds, Chrysalis turned her murderous attention to Thunderlane. “What do you know about the House of a Thousand Fangs?” “The what?” Thunderlane asked, confused and fearful. There was a creaking of strained wood, and Inky turned to see the pegasus leaning as far back in the chair as was possible, as Chrysalis’s pearly face was uncomfortably close to his. “The ship of Lady Aurora,” Inky inserted impatiently. “I don’t know anything for sure, except that it runs on magic,” Thunderlane replied as Inky turned back to blinds. A deep but hollow tone escaped into the room: the result of Chrysalis’s horn lighting. “Try again,” she hissed. “What do you know about the ship?” “I swear I don’t know!” Thunderlane shouted out, now in true fear of what magic Chrysalis might decide to use against his body. How long can he withstand this I wonder, Inky thought as a strangled cry escaped a newly wounded Thunderlane. How long can you and I shield the Elements from the wrath of a vengeful queen? ______________________________________________________________________________ Twilight Sparkle dug her hooves into the stone and dirt street of Ponyville, skidding around a corner. She could hear Spike breathing nervously as he struggled to keep a hold on her mane, tugging on whenever she sped up or slowed down significantly. Above her, Rainbow Dash performed acrobatics in the interim between waiting for Twilight and scouting out Thunderlane’s place. As it was, Twilight was mildly surprised when Rainbow dove down and began flying at pace with her. “Thunderlane just closed up shop for the morning,” Rainbow informed her seriously. “If they’re going to do anything, they’ll do it now before he goes back home.” “How much time do we have?” Twilight asked, not taking her eyes off the road before her. “No clue,” Rainbow said unhelpfully. “All I know is that he stays after to clean up.” The pair continued with Spike still clinging desperately to Twilight until Rainbow threw out a leg and did her best to avoid shouting, “Stop!” Twilight scuffed up the stone beneath her hooves as she slowed to a stand. “What?” she asked, finally looking to Rainbow and following her friend’s gaze. They were standing about three buildings down from the bagel shop co-owned by Thunderlane and his uncle, but Rainbow was not paying it any mind. Twilight barely caught a glimpse of sickly green light inside an alley on the other side of the street as she scanned for whatever had drawn Rainbow’s attention. “Did you see that?” the pegasus asked apprehensively. “I know I did,” Spike answered first, his claws pulling on Twilight’s mane in stress. “Was that what I really think it was?” “I hope not,” Rainbow replied. “One was enough. You did see it, right Twilight?” “Did it look like that?” Twilight asked them gravely, pointing to a flickering green glow flashing from the windows of the bagel shop. Rainbow Dash swore vehemently, but Spike could only stare transfixed while tapping on Twilight’s shoulder. “Yes?” she asked him. “Can all of them do that?” he asked, voice hollow with all of his attention focused on the now fading light. “It doesn’t matter,” Rainbow inserted defiantly. “We have to help Thunderlane or they’ll... bite him.” “It does matter Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said cautiously, “but I can’t argue against having to help him. Why she would target Thunderlane is beyond me though.” “Okay then,” Rainbow said, her adrenaline already seeping into her tone. “I know this back door to the kitchens that Thunderlane always leaves unlocked. I’ve always told him it’s stupid for him to let it go like that, but it looks like it was a good idea after all.” “Lead the way,” Twilight said, allowing Dash to drop onto her hooves and take the front. There were still a few ponies passing through, prompting Dash to dart down into the alley behind the shop at the first possible moment. “The blinds were all down,” Spike mentioned when they were surrounded by the enclosing brick walls of two buildings. “That can’t be a good sign.” “You don’t have to tell me of all ponies to hurry up,” Rainbow whispered, “but I don’t wanna get caught. Here it is Twilight.” They were standing at the foot of a shabby set of iron steps leading to a heavily scratched and dented metal door. “Go first Spike,” Twilight said, levitating him to the front of the door. “Why me?!” he asked incredulously. “Because you’re smaller than we are,” Rainbow hissed at him, scowling for good measure. “Go, we’ll be right behind you once you give the all clear,” Twilight encouraged him. Although sighing heavily, Spike reached up and swung the heavy door open. To their benefit of their trio, it was well-oiled and slid open silently. Spike hesitantly stuck his head inside the kitchen, snapping it right and left repeatedly before moving his whole body inside. Twilight nervously tapped her hooves as they waited with only Spike’s scaly feet ticking on the tiled floor. Both she and Rainbow jumped in jittery surprise when he reappeared, frowning and motioning silently with a single finger for them to follow. “What’s wrong?” Rainbow bent down to Spike’s ear whilst Twilight ever so carefully closed the door. The purple dragon drew two clamped talons across his lips significantly, and motioned for them to follow him again. He led them not into the dining area, but farther back into the kitchen where a smattering of pots and other cooking utensils were strewn about. Spike pointed at the mess, and mimed a struggle with an invisible opponent. Both Twilight and Rainbow Dash took his meaning with a solid but still nervous nod. They were all standing there, wondering how best to approach entering the dining area; as it was the only place Thunderlane, Inky Jay, and his accomplice could be. Without warning, a scream of pain blasted through the door to the front. It was that of a stallion, and even with ears flat to block the sound, both mares knew who it had to be. Rainbow Dash was naturally the first to overcome her instincts to flee, and motioned her head at her two companions to follow her. As deftly as was possible on hooves, she crept to the door that led behind the cashier desk. Shutting eyes tight in anticipation of being seen, Rainbow eased the door open just enough for her to crawl through. Nothing happened save the voices in the room coming to her ears. “That was not true pain,” an unfamiliar but empowered mare’s voice growled. “That was only my magic infusing you with a safety measure. But if you are eager to experience true torture at my hooves, the continue to lie. What do you know of Aurora Streak’s vessel!?” “I swear... I already told you...” Thunderlane’s voice followed, sporadic and drained. “I don’t... I don’t... know...” The mare from before roared out in frustration. “You are being to direct,” Inky Jay’s voice said, although it was rather distant. “Remember, we cannot have this experience show any evidence of our presence. If you maim him in any way, he will have proof of our meddling.” “Do you have any better ideas to extract the truth from him?” the mare lashed out. “Maybe he isn’t lying,” Inky said, his voice becoming louder as his hooves could be heard walking around the dining area. “Perhaps he is telling the truth and we are missing the true culprit.” His tone becoming less detached and gaining its usual mockery, he added, “Surely you understood the odds of success at the first interrogation.” “You are content with his answer because nothing precious to you has been taken,” the mare’s voice heightened. “I am not yet convinced.” “Everything precious to me rides on this,” Inky shot back. “Don’t pretend to be the only victim, especially since your harm was only immediate.” “I am still not satisfied,” the mare’s voice reiterated and the sound of a prepared spell flowed through the room. “And there are many spells that can induce pain in the mind alone.” Her statement was followed by the sounds of struggle, no doubt from Thunderlane. Behind the counter, Rainbow Dash could take no more. She nodded purposefully to Twilight, who tensed her muscles in preparation. Rainbow extended out three feathers to one of her wings. Two were now out, and Spike was massaging his throat nervously. A single feather left, and Rainbow confirmed that they all were ready. She slashed her wing down, opening the other and leaping into the air above the counter. Twilight and Spike followed a moment later: the unicorn teleporting with a crack and flash in a fighting stance to the front of the desk and Spike leaping to stand on the booking machine, mouth ready to spew green flames. “Back away!” Rainbow belted out before having really taken a measure of the situation. The reaction to their reveal was completely mixed. Thunderlane cried out in joy before being silenced by a forceful buck to the head by the mystery mare, whose horn was lit with threatening green magic and whose eyes darted swiftly between the three of them. Inky Jay stood slightly behind and to the right of the tied Thunderlane, and his expression was impossible to read. He was both shocked and angry like his fellow, but there was as well a hollow, calculating stiffness to his body. “And why we should we?” the pearl mare hissed at Rainbow. Turning her attention to the unicorn, she replied, “Three against two isn’t exactly good odds, and Twilight can whoop any unicorn in Equestria in a magic fight. The two of you wouldn’t stand a chance.” “You actually count the infantile dragon as an asset?” Inky asked, condescending but without much passion, like it was direct someplace else. “Yes I do,” Twilight said defiantly, her horn beginning to spark dangerously, “and you should as well.” “We don’t,” the mare said flatly. “You are the ones who should back away. You are dealing with powers far beyond you.” “I’ll be the measure of that,” Twilight grimaced, before loosing a spell at the mare. The room exploded into action and noise. The mare growled in frustration, leaping behind a table as Twilight pelted bolts of magic in her direction. Wood splintered and flew through the air as the two fought, and Rainbow Dash dodged through the mess toward Inky Jay. Spike leapt down from the counter, rushing over to Thunderlane and breathing in to burn away the ropes holding him down. Everything would have gone perfectly if Inky had not thrown off his jacket. Beneath it was a skeletal brass contraction attached to his ribs that he activated with two simple jerks of either foreleg. High powered springs released with a click inaudible over the battling unicorns, sending two objects flying to either side of the room to embed themselves in the walls with a small whump. Rainbow was bewildered just long enough for Inky to jump into the air and grab her around the chest, shoving the wind out of her lungs. Only his grip on her was shielding rather than aggressive. Before she had truly registered what was happening, Inky Jay burst through one of the glass windows with her, losing his grip and sending them both rolling injuriously over the stone. Glass shards clattered around them, and Rainbow as leaning up to attack the other pegasus when a whine inside the shop caught her attention. She had barely registered it when she was flung back onto the road, two explosions ripping through the restaurant. The glass was blasted outward, a gurgling, all-consuming roar accompanying the shock-wave and fire that cut through wood and brick to send a groaning roof into a collapse. Ringing lingered in Rainbow’s ears even as the sound and force of the explosions dies away, so she could not even hear herself screaming for her friends still inside. The first sound that returned the sense of hearing to her was magic. Her watering eyes snapped to the side, to see a slightly singed and battered Twilight and Spike furiously glaring at Inky Jay. The pegasus eyed the three of them—the stiffness Rainbow had noticed before was gone and the look in his eyes as that of one relieved—as Twilight’s magic shoved him sharply up against a wall. “We need to go Twilight,” Rainbow managed to say, Thunderlane’s death still fresh in her mind despite being softened by Twilight and Spike’s survival. There was an odd sense of washing serenity knowing that they were not dead. “He’s going to answer for what he did back there first,” Twilight seethed. “She’s right Twilight Sparkle,” Inky said victoriously, though he winced when Twilight pushed him against the wall harder. “We have him now,” Rainbow insisted. “We won’t be able to question him unless we’re someplace safe.” “Got any suggestions?” Spike asked Rainbow. “The library’s our best shot,” Rainbow said. “Twilight, are you listening?” Spike asked concernedly, as she had not taken her eyes from her captive. “I am,” Twilight said. “But I’m also thinking of how Princess Celestia would treat a monster like you,” she said glowering to Inky Jay. “Monster?” Inky chuckled, mildly amused. “Would it change your perspective to know that both my colleague and your fellow citizen survived that blast?” Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Rainbow’s mouth dropped open. “But the roof collapsed!” she protested. “Even Spike wouldn’t have survived that!” “We need to get him out of the public so we lose this chance,” Twilight echoed Rainbow’s earlier words, bewilderment and curiosity having taken the place of rage. “Spike and I’ll take him back to the library. Rainbow, you round up our friends and tell them to meet us there. Tell them we found Inky.” ______________________________________________________________________________ Blessed silence surrounded her on all sides. This consuming silence was not abnormal, but there was always something different between silence amongst individuals and silence in the presence of one. Aurora Streak had experienced the silence of being alone for several hundred years, and while like all ponies she had at first despised and feared it; now, she cherished it. There was always a certain clarity to both her physical and mental movements when others were not around her. There were no pestering questions, awkward pauses in conversation, or hidden feelings waiting to be discovered. It was why she preferred the company of her Devices over that of other beings. They only asked her questions that she would have asked herself in time; their speech was a soothing hum in the air to indicate their contained power; and being her creations, there was nothing about them she did not know. Of course, she was not so far gone as to consider her amalgamations of brass and magic to be alive. It just so happened that her Devices embodied those things that it seemed most living things actively sought, but paradoxically refused to obtain. They had a purpose; one that they carried out with no inhibition. So many ponies, even after discovering their special talent, still agonized over the method and place by and in which to use it. They waited for fate to show them a path; waited for life to point them in the ‘right’ direction. In short, they futilely held onto the idea of destiny. She despised the very notion of destiny. It was an insipid way of explaining away misfortune and a pathetic attempt to act humble in the face of victory. She was her own pony and had been from the moment she began to take an interest in the only magic she could grasp. She had been the sole decision maker in her life, and she had long ago accepted the consequences for those decisions. She hated the idea of destiny, for it removed any sense of responsibility a pony would have for their life. And she knew full well that all ponies understood the reality of consequence. How they managed to hold onto both a belief and an ideal was beyond her, and she was determined to make them see the light. That being said, there were two projects demanding her attention in regards to her second demonstration. The Element of Magic, Twilight Sparkle, was still restless and needed to be placated before being shown Aurora’s crowning achievement. As it were, she intended to actually employ the unicorn’s assistance for her next demonstration. She—and by extension Inky Jay—easily understood how her cutie mark research operated; but, unfortunately, this experienced understanding would prevent either of them from coming up with a satisfactory way of explaining it to the limited minds of the masses. And thus, Aurora would employ Magic for the task. She could defuse the tensions between herself and the Element, while simultaneously gaining the layman’s understanding of her cutie mark science to better regurgitate it to the Ponyville citizens. In this issue Aurora was confident she would have few, if any, problems. Her other pressing concern, however, was not so easily diminished. Chrysalis was rapidly becoming the rebellious servant she never could—or ever would—tolerate. Her interests were not tied to Aurora’s own like Inky’s were; and therefore, she was only willing to follow her creator so long as she could see some benefit for her own people. The death of one of her Changelings had only accelerated her displeasure with Aurora and it had taken all of her cunning to devise the plan of distraction to hold her at bay. But that plan was only staving off the inevitable. Chrysalis would not stay satiated forever, and she would eventually realize that Aurora’s promise of life in a new and reformed Equestria was to come at the cost of hundreds of Changeling lives. As such, Aurora was under the need to remove Chrysalis from her circle while keeping the Changelings. While a Device was the clear answer, Aurora did not have the time to craft one to her usual exactness. Were she blessed with the proper amount of time, she would study evolved Changeling magic until she had discovered the properties of the magical bond that linked Changelings to their queen. The resulting Device would generate a field that would redirect that connection to her ponysona. As it stood, such specific standards were not possible; the Device to be used instead would be drawing power and riding upon fields already in place. The effect she desired was to be accomplished by two types of Devices working in tandem. At present, she was preparing her last Device of the jerry-rigged network. The first was linked and adding its effect to the Device that alerted her to the presence of any Ascended ponies. Its sole ability was to gather stray thoughts that belonged to an insecure telepathic network. Inwardly, she was glad she had taken Chrysalis’s suggestion to wear her bangles at all times, for they made keeping the primary Device active much less strenuous. If her theory was correct, the primary Device’s link to Aurora’s own mind would send the gathered Changeling thoughts to her once their mental link to Chrysalis was disrupted. She would not be able to replace Chrysalis as the security blanket for the network, but it would give her the necessary position to command them. The second set of Devices was to disrupt the connection between the Changelings and Chrysalis. There was no way for her to sever it completely, for that would require Aurora to study its exact nature. She could, however, use Devices to generate telepathic interference of which there were many kinds. Her choice was simple in nature, but she had linked the Devices broadcasting it into all the Devices powering her protective fields. The result would heavily compound the interference until it resembled a more sophisticated form of disruption. All of her other Devices were prepared, and she stood before the back-end of the primary cone screeching and whining as it poured magic energy into the dome surrounding Ponyville. On a cart beside her rested the final Device of her modifications. Her face still impassive with concentration on the task at hoof, she deftly pressed against a pedal in the floor. A Device could be heard firing below the wood, and the clanking of heavy gearworks soon followed. The floorboards before her slid away and up rose a platform whose base appeared as a convoluted mass of brass piping. Nozzles at the surface of this mass were connected to a grand total of one hundred forty-four Devices all of the same kind. They were the ultimate power source for the pink dome. Aurora took a moment to gaze at them with intense satisfaction; it having been some time since she had last seen the purer glory of her inventions. But the moment passed, and the urgency of her work returned her focus. With a steady hoof, she slid back a lever on one of the exterior Devices, gradually shrinking its magic flow until it was deactivated. It’s complete shutdown was signaled by a quick flickering flash of the dome outside. Now sure it would not release its magic once she removed it, Aurora unlatched it from its nozzle and gently eased it into her cart. The alternate Device came into place only seconds later, looking identical to its brethren, save the difference in the etched letters. Aurora secured it with the latches to the nozzle and was just about to begin to ease its magic into the system when her concentration was interrupted by a mental warning from the Ascension detecting Device. She had been plagued by an occasional alert when she had first arrived and the pegasi had not known the detrimental effects of the field. It had been for this irritating reason she had deactivated the field up until the earlier infiltration and Changeling death. But the pegasi had quickly learned to stay well away from the ship and she had not yet had an incident. At least until now. Whoever the pony was, their actions had to be deliberate. Those foalish idiots, she cursed angrily as she stalked over to a hidden panel at the opposite end of the room. It would not surprise me if they were indeed older foals. Fillies and colts never understood boundaries then, and it seems they still do not, no matter their Ascension or lack thereof. She forcefully slid back a wall panel, revealing not a room, but a Device mounted on an iron tripod at eye level. A quick push on its underside mounted trigger and the magic within could be heard funneling through the interior channels like the sounds of rushing fire and water. Aurora’s face remained stonily cold as a beam lanced out and struck her body before she disappeared completely. She opened her eyes and breathed again when she could see the nozzle of the second Device in a transit room just off the top deck. It was a circular expanse situated just beneath the pipes expelling the excess smoke from her fire Devices, and it was lined with well over three dozen teleportation Devices all capable of sending a pony to any important area of the ship. The one she had just exited was situated relatively close to the exit, and Aurora moved out onto the deck supremely cross and prepared to berate the ponies like the foalish, short-sighted creatures they were. What she found, however, disarmed her like nothing else ever had. A simple grey mare with a blonde mane and tail was curiously and carefully walking along the deck, mail bags hanging over her sides. Her eyes were walled, though she did not seem impaired by this, and in her mouth was a single letter. She seemed completely unperturbed that her wings were not serving as well as they ought, and the expression in her walled eyes was more one of interest than fear. “Who are you?” Aurora asked, striding up to her. The voice that had manifested in her as Luna’s favorite researcher and as a pony of strong ideals was momentarily softened by the intrigue Aurora could not help feel when she looked at this mare. The mail carrier before her jumped slightly at being addressed so suddenly and without any warning of the speaker’s approach, but she recovered rather swiftly, taking the letter from her mouth and saying cheerfully, “Derpy Hooves, mail mare. I have a letter to your assistant Inky Jay from Pinkie Pie. This is nice flying boat you have.” “I am aware of the one you call Pinkie Pie,” Aurora said, taking the letter from Derpy. “Though I know her by her proper name. And the House of a Thousand Fangs is the only one of its kind across the whole of the earth.” “I didn’t know Pinkie had another name,” Derpy confessed, though not ashamedly. “While I’m here, were there any letters you wanted carried down into Ponyville?” “If there were anything I needed to say to them, I would do it in person,” Aurora replied, her level of curiosity in this mare’s contradiction of appearance and Ascended nature fading. She had caught a brief glimpse of her cutie mark of bubbles, and while Aurora could not determine her special talent by that alone, it was evident that natural Ascension for her would be far less constrained than that of other ponies. In fact, it was completely possible that whatever ailed her eyes had been mitigated in part by her Ascension. Aurora was just about to rather flatly send Derpy away when an explosion rocked the air in Ponyville. The roar of the detonation lingered after the initial shock wave had been felt, but there were no screams to accompany it. Without a word to the mail mare, Aurora whipped around and strode back into the teleportation nexus. Those were the grenadier Devices I gave Inky Jay, this and other thoughts flew through her mind even as she was teleported back down into the cavernous room she had previously been working in. Chrysalis must have come very close to discovering the one of the Elements as the true culprit behind the Changeling death. If things are beginning to accelerate this quickly, my summons of Magic could not come at a better time. She and Ponyville will now be teetering dangerously close to being lost to me forever, and unless they can be convinced, my revolution will stand no chance. I will give Inky Jay some time to explain himself to her, or whichever Element has happened to apprehend him. In addition, I need the extra time to siphon away control of the Changelings. If Chrysalis is as resilient as she seems, that explosion will not have killed her; but instead I will now be forced to reckon with a wild card I had hoped to keep in my hand until the very end. As her plans reshaped themselves around the new development, she activated the first interference Device and lowered the apparatus back into the floor. Three more Devices awaited activation before the Changelings on board her ship were secure, and being that they were separated from the primary systems, she could not rely on her bangles to do it for her. She stood resolute before the teleporting Device once again, already organizing her mind for the task of managing the Changelings.