//------------------------------// // 10. Family Reunion // Story: Dysphoria, Arc 3: Canterlot // by thedarkprep //------------------------------// 10. Family Reunion The first thing Evening Rose noticed when she woke up the next day was that the sky was dark. It was her first conscious thought as she struggled to understand what was going on, for she had woken inside a warzone. She still was not sure what had roused her from her sleep. Maybe it had been the low rumbling from the ground, a subtle stampede which shook the buildings and compounds with their pressure. Maybe it had been the screams of terror, sifting through the window much like the dissonant notes of a broken symphony. Or maybe, it had been the guard yelling at her to get up. “PRISONER ROSE! YOU NEED TO GET UP NOW!” “What?” asked Rose. The room was shaded and fuzzy as her eyes adjusted to the waking world. The screams and rumbling were incessant, even as they were muffled as her ears adjusted to the frequencies of reality. The solider in front of her was yelling but she could not understand the words. The thumping grew louder as the buildings creaked under the pressure. Looking out the window she noticed the sky above the shield was dark. Then she saw the darkness move. Immediately her brain awoke as she simultaneously arrived at a few conclusions. The invasion was happening, there was chaos in the streets, the shield would not hold, and she needed more information. She turned to the guard at the door. “What happened?” “Under the direct orders of Captain Shining Armor, you are to be released from this prison in the event of a changeling attack. His orders state that in such a scenario you are pardoned from all crimes and should head to find shelter since the changelings will no doubt make you a target. The plan was to move you to the castle but it has been compromised. As such you can go wherever you want but are free to hide in the armory. Wherever you decide you need to go, WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!” Rose looked out the window again, seeing parts of the shield show the strain of the attacks. “It won’t be long now,” Rose thought to herself. “Ok, think. Where do you need to be right now?” She thought of Octavia, with her first impulse being that of going to her side. And yet, Octavia could take care of herself. She was strong, brash, and smart, not to mention that Rose had gone through a lot of trouble to ensure she would not be singled out. “Ok, that’s not the best place to be useful. Where else?” She thought of what the guard had said: ‘the castle’s been compromised’. She could go there to help fight. However, the princesses were there and so was Shining Armor. If the castle had fallen there was nothing Rose could do to sway the battle. “What else?” she asked herself, stopping in her tracks as a thought struck her. “Slant is still with my family, if we somehow fight them off they would still be used as bargaining chips,” she thought. “They’re not afraid to kill.” Having made her choice, she turned to the guard who had refused to leave her side until she was safely out of the soon-to-be-attacked compound. “Thank you,” she said. “Stay safe.” The guard nodded as he gave her back her bag, grabbed a spear, and headed outside. Rose followed after him. Then came a sound. Rose had only just exited the compound as it occurred, a screeching type of rumble followed by the sound of cracking glass. Rose was very familiar with this sound, but was still ill-prepared for the echoing bolt of noise that occurred as the shield shattered. For a second there was silence, allowing the sound of shattering glass to dance in the air, as undisturbed as a passing cloud, until it rang into nonexistence. The world was mute, staring as if hypnotized, allowing the spell of quiet to drown out all sound waves. No pony spoke, no pony breathed, and for a single moment, not a single heart beat. Then the first segment of the protective dome hit the ground, shattering in a colossal explosion of sound that in turn shattered all sense of order, harmony, and peace. If there had been chaos before the defenses fell, it had been nothing compared to this. Ponies ran for cover, trying desperately to keep the groups of families and friends together. They ran, as if herded by invisible shepherds, trying to avoid the falling pieces of the spell meant to ensure their safety. The swarm attacked, littering the street with darkness as the giant mass of insectoid beings hovered over the ground, picking their prey. As it often happens, the groups were unable to stay together. Groups of friends got separated in the scuffles, families were torn apart by crowds running in different directions, and the solitary ponies left behind ran without a destination. In the world of ponies there was panic, fear, and horror. What was lacking was hope. Not a pony rose to fight, not a pony stood their ground. Their hope and will to resist had been shattered along with the protection the magical shield had garnered. It was amongst this madness in which Rose ran. She ran towards a destination, with a purpose, and with the will to fight. As she ran, she could not help but feel impressed, and sickened, by the precision with which the attack was being carried out. There was a large cloud of changelings attacking the general populous, but Rose could clearly pick out small groups heading towards the key points of the city, securing more noble blood to barter with and taking down the main transportation routes. They were making sure there would be no escape from Canterlot, and it was all thanks to her. A few changelings appeared in Rose’s line of sight, but they were of very little concern to her. She avoided most of them by simply running past them, as it would take more effort to chase her than to pick another prey. Those who attacked her were not as lucky, as she quickly dispersed of the offensive changelings with a well place kick or tackle, all without breaking her stride. At least until she encountered a wall of changelings attempting to blockade the street. “I don’t have time for this,” yelled Rose as she took flight, kicking at the roof of a house and forcing for the roofing to collapse onto the awaiting changelings below. She landed and kept running, knowing that she would attract less attention on the ground. And so, Rose galloped past the chaos, avoiding the still falling pieces of the shield and dispersing the changelings in her path as she rushed to her destination. “There it is,” she commented as she reached her old home. Rose quickly and quietly went through the secret passage to the side of the house that had been crafted for Octavia’s use, leading to Rose’s old room. She swiftly opened the window to her room, finding it empty. She quietly listened, catching a conversation in another room. She followed the voices. “I think we should evacuate while we still have the chance,” said Rich Rhyme. “We’re pegasi - it would prove much harder to catch us; we can simply jump off the mountain and fly away.” “No,” said Slant Rhyme. “We need to remain hidden. We’ll be fine in here; it’s more important that they don’t find us. We don’t know if we can outrun them or how many of them there are!” Then Rose kicked the door down. They were inside the living room. Ilene Rhyme was holding Perfect Rhyme in the safety of the corner, away from the now closed curtains and from the two arguing stallions. Rich Rhyme was standing near the front door, which had been barricaded with a couch and a tipped bookshelf; his face one of utter confusion and disbelief. Next to him was Slant, who had nothing but anger on his face. “You,” he had begun to say, but Rose would not let him speak. With a powerful beat of her wings she charged him, tackling him into a table. Slant recovered quickly from the impact and began punching Rose, who simply kicked him onto the other side of the room. They both stood and readied for the next round. Rose charged again, but this time Slant side stepped her, bucking her as she passed by and making her land on the floor. Rose got up again, feinting a charge to catch Slant in his reaction. Slant, however, did not flinch, sending a powerful kick at Rose’s head which she barely managed to avoid. She rolled away from his reach before charging him. He side-stepped but she bounced off the wall to catch him from behind. Slant was prepared for this, using his wings to roll out of the way, smirking at Rose as she landed on the floor. “How are you doing this?” she asked. “It’s actually quite simple with ponies like you,” Slant laughed. “You think you’re so noble carrying your emotions on your sleeve, but it makes you predictable.” “You couldn’t do this before,” Rose replied. “What changed?” “Before, your emotions were clouded,” Slant mocked. “But now they’re clear and easy to interpret. The good thing is that you don’t have enough emotional control to make it so I can’t read them. You can mask how visible they are, but not how they make you feel.” Rose glared, unsure of how to proceed. “He can tell when I’m going to attack or feint,” she thought to herself. “The only way to stop him is outmaneuver him, but the room’s too small to gather speed. I can’t control my emotions enough to fool him. How did I do it last time?” Rose thought back to their last encounter, looking for anything that might help. Slant noticed the distraction and charged her, pinning her to the floor, hoof against her neck. It was becoming harder to breathe but still Rose thought in desperation for any detail that might help. “It’s no use,” she thought. “All I can remember is him insulting me about my father and brother.” Remembering the incident caused a great pain to resurface in her mind. Slant’s attack lessened in intensity. “Really?” Rose muttered. Rose used a well place hoof hit and a throw to launch Slant a far away enough distance from her. She got to her hooves with a smile on her face. “Really? Pain?” she asked, “That’s what you can’t read?” She took a small step forward. “I guess it makes sense; pain can combine a lot of emotions,” she continued. “A pony in pain can collapse, or attack, be angry or restrained, and the emotion is still the same one, pain, right?” She took another step. “The problem is that if pain is how I break your ability to anticipate my moves,” she glared with malice in her eyes. “You’ve picked the wrong pony to impersonate.” Rose allowed her memories to flow to her, and as she did so, she relived them. She saw herself, standing in front of the mirror, cursing at fate for her body. She turned to stare at the stallion that was her reflection. Tears welled up in Rose’s eyes as she opened them to find that same stallion standing before her. Slant could only stare in terror as the room was filled with the unreadable emotion. It masked all others and seeped through the air like a fragrance or vapor. To his emotion-sensing skill, there was no longer an Evening Rose, just a mass of pain and anguish. Rose jumped into the air, attacking Slant from overhead. She delivered a powerful kick before bouncing off the wall behind him to a safe distance. Slant readied for the next charge. Rose saw herself lying in the hospital after having relived Granite’s attack. She would now always worry about coming out to a lover. Not only that, but Granite had robbed her of the chance to be a mare in Ponyville: because of him, they all knew now that she was trans. Rose charged again, feinting a hit to the muzzle but dropping at the last second to knock Slant off his hooves. While on the floor, Rose delivered a powerful kick, sending Slant rolling away from her. Rose saw herself, standing in front of a cliff as her father landed behind her. Rose got up and delivered the strongest punch she could at Slant’s face. It was not a feint, and it connected, sending him tumbling onto a wall. Rose walked towards him as memories from her past rolled by her eyelids, an obelisk of anguish and misery. Slant could read nothing else about her other than the pain she was reliving with every step she took; he was bleeding profusely, and he was tired. And yet, Slant had a smile on his face. Slant got up and charged against Rose. Rose dropped to the floor, allowing Slant to pass over her and prepared for him to turn around, but he did not. Instead Slant charged directly towards Perfect Rhyme. The Rhyme family had been watching the fight with confusion and fear. It was as if the event was separate from reality, with them being merely spectators. As such they were not prepared for this sudden charge, and neither Rich nor Ilene were in any position to protect their son. Rose struggled to catch up to Slant, urging her wings to go past their limit in the short space of the living room. She did not notice when Slant’s wings flared. In a quick move, Slant opened his wings propelling him backwards and onto the speeding Rose. The combination of his backwards momentum and Rose’s speed ensured that when Slant’s hooves connected with her head, Rose was knocked onto the floor. Slant quickly pinned her, punching her in the face and stomach with as much force as was possible. Rose turned to watch as Slant turned his hoof into a sharp triangular point. He prepared to strike. However, as his hoof struck down, the point was embedded into the floor, rather than into Evening Rose. Rose watched in astonishment as Perfect Rhyme, having broken free from his mother’s grasp, tackled Slant Rhyme, throwing off his aim. Slant had not been hurt by the attack, and the confusion Perfect had caused lasted only for a second, but that second had saved Rose’s life. Slant in frustration used his free hoof to smack Perfect out of the air and onto the floor. Anger consumed Evening Rose. Slant sensed the anger break through the misery a split second before Rose attacked him. It was a split second too late. In one fluid motion Rose overpowered her attacker, pinning him against the ground, and once again withdrew the blade that Octavia had given her, the same blade that Chrysalis had returned to her as a sign of trust. “Trust can be a dangerous thing,” Rose thought. Slant frantically searched for the feeling of hesitation and restraint that had assured him last time that the mare that had pinned him would not kill. It was not there: instead there was only anger, bitterness, and pain. Rose lowered her blade against Slant’s neck, preparing to strike, when she heard it. She quickly got up as a burst of energy rushed through the house, eliminating Slant’s morphed form and pushing him out of Canterlot. As she stared out the window, Rose noted that the shield had been recast, and that all the changelings seemed to have been exiled from Canterlot completely. She took a deep breath, reveling on the fact that she had gotten through a fight without being rendered unconscious. Then she turned around. The sound of Octavia’s blade hitting the stone floor echoed through the house as Rose came to face her family. “Being conscious is overrated.”