//------------------------------//
// In Captivity Of The Umbra Fuga 
// Story: Diprosopus 
// by WritingSpirit 
//------------------------------//

	Somehow, the walls of Cloudsdale Hospital were soundproof.

Despite her experience with cloud engineering and weather necessary for her position, Spitfire never knew how the architects designed it, or what the structure and style of the cloud it was made from. Nevertheless, it doesn't matter now.
She was on a waiting chair, named specifically for her current purpose. The last of her patience was wearing off, as it was for not only the mare behind those flapping doors, but also for a stray stallion, whose attendance was required as much as it was expected. The small green light above them, powered by charges of electricity between the friction of the clouds; a subject she had learned back in school (she considered herself to be a dork back then), was on, only making her more nervous than ever.
"Soarin', where the heck are you..."

Half an hour had past, and both Rainbow Dash and Soarin' were nowhere to be seen. Spitfire felt like she was in prison: enclosed and barred from any knowledge of both sides. The cruel anticipation of waiting was nearly unbearable, and prison became asylum as she nervously gripped the clouds that make up the chair, wanting to just tear them off, bang her hooves at the door and yell whatever words that can rid her rage.
Labor... her thoughts wandered back to the days of old, not that she'd been through it. Shutting her eyes, she tried to repress the cries of not a newborn, but a pair, one male, one female, both filled with devastation and pain. Spitfire placed a hoof on her stomach, biting her lips while wiping leaking tears away, mind trying to find its way back into the present.

"How long has it been..." she muttered softly.

The doors flapped open suddenly, revealing a nurse frantically galloping out of the room. A loud shrill of pain, no doubt Rainbow's, burst through the hallways in that small interval it was wide open, which only worried her even more.
"What the hay's happening in there?" she asked the nurse. An answer never came, however, as she hurriedly rushed back in, pushing in a cart with what seems to be an oxygen mask, similar to the ones the Wonderbolts would use when traveling at high altitudes.

"An oxygen mask?" she murmured, before gasping quietly.
"Oh no... no, no, no, no--"

Another pair of doors opened, this time from the other end of the hallway, where bursting out from them was not another doctor or nurse, but none other than Soarin' himself. Spitfire rose from her seat, wanting to question what took him so much time, yet his frantic expression of shock proved otherwise.
"How is she?" he almost shouted his question, sweat pouring like waterfalls from his head. Something in her heart told Spitfire he somehow saw the nurse with the oxygen mask, and that itself cleared the fog covering the source of his staggering anxiety.
"Spitfire! Tell me!"

"I... I don't know..."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW?!!"

Spitfire nearly fell back onto her seat, blinking a few times at her best friend, now seething with rage. Soarin' beat her to it, however, gritting his teeth and forcing a hoof into his head.
"Should've seen this coming," he murmured, almost sobbing.
"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!"

"Soarin', you didn't know it would be coming so soon--"

"But it did!" he shouted, shunning his best friend to silence and making way for his cries.
"I don't want her to die... p-please, Celestia, please... I don't want any of them to die..."

It would be embarassing; a male Wonderbolt breaking down into his best friend's lap, yet it was understandable. Spitfire just held his hoof tight, clenching her eyes shut as both started to pray: for the safety of Rainbow Dash and her foal.
Fear came back to haunt her again, as images of her grieving in Soarin's hooves; their current roles reversed, basically, played back in her mind. It was Soarin', and not him. He wasn't there. He didn't know... until an hour later. Screams came along, and screech after screech of voices in anger followed, and then he was gone.

From the rest of her life.

She lived through it. It was painful, but at least he was alive the last they saw each other with cold glares. For Soarin' to not have that privilege... a tragedy such as that would fracture one's mind completely.
"Please, please, please..." she chanted that single word, already letting out a few tears. Spitfire could already feel her colleague convulsing violently, his chest wracking with despairing regret, his eyes erupting with tears. He was still cursing at himself, although she couldn't bother figuring it out. All that mattered now was the outcome, be it on whichever extreme ends of the spectrum it would be.

Suddenly, the light went out.

The doors - the ones they were anticipating - opened a second time, and both Wonderbolts rose from their seats as a white-suited stallion marched out, carrying a small clipboard with spectacles perched onto his snout. He trotted slowly (not to mention agonizingly) towards them, nose slightly twitching with eyes staring at them like cold steel.
Spitfire felt her hoof crunch from Soarin's vise grip, the two pegasi biting their lips and awaiting for an answer. The latter pony quickly wiped his gathered tears away, the only visible proof of his breakdown being the popping red in his eyes. Both their breaths stuck in their throats, the moment surging through them as the doctor's mouth opened.

"Congratulations."

Both pegasi stared at each other with wide eyes, utterly confused.
"But..." Soarin' began with a gulp, "the oxygen mask..."

"Just precautionary measures," the doctor replied.
"Let's just say her labor is dehydrating as it was suffocating. And for a very good reason."

A humongous sigh of relief came from both of them, and before they knew it, the hallways echoed with the laughter of two veteran Wonderbolts, mostly at their own - and each other's - paranoia. There wasn't a reprimand from the doctor; instead he reached out his hooves, beckoning their entry through where he came from.
"Your wife's ready to see you now, Mr. Glorytail. I must say, she has a wonderful surprise for you."

They would've rushed in if they wanted to lose their dignity to their excitement, and instead they slowly stepped forward. Giddy with eagerness, Spitfire nudged her friend's shoulder, letting out a hearty laugh with wings fluttering a beat.
"Soarin' Glorytail, you numbskull of a worrywart!" she teased.

"Hey, I had every right to be worried!" he exclaimed in self defense.
"I'm her rightful husband, after all. Plus, you were extremely worried as well. I could hear you praying, y'know."

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!"

Both blew raspberries. Both punched each other's shoulders. Both do whatever mischief best friends do to tease each other; they are the best of friends, after all. In the end, it was all congratulatory, passing the time until they eventually reached another door.
"Alright," Spitfire said suddenly with a grin, mocking a salute.
"Man up, daddy! Be brave in front of your new kid!"

"Yes, ma'am Spitfire!" he said, returning the salute with an extra wink.
Soarin' gulped in a huge breath of air, letting it all out in an instant. With that they stepped inside, the mellow warmth welcoming them in. Their eyes soon settled to the mare beneath the green sheets, immediately widening in disbelief when they saw the sight that behold them.
"I... I don't.... even... but how...!"

Spitfire's jaw dropped, unable to perceive what she was seeing as well. She rubbed, believing it to be the result of beer goggles, yet it was still there: the unexpected surprise the doctor mentioned earlier. Surprise soon made way for warmth, and she covered her open mouth, shaking her head just as her lips broadened into a smile, and a very large smile it was.
"I couldn't believe it as well..." Rainbow replied, chest still heaving with small beads of sweat lingering about the corners of her forehead. She brought Soarin' closer, her husband still in shock, yet she nuzzled his snout despite that, eyes brimmed with tears of joy that soon prompted his pair to produce some as well. They gave each other a quick, deep kiss on the lips, never short of joy at the pair of sleeping faces cradled in the mare's hoof.
"So, Soarin' Glorytail..." she muttered the expected question softly.

"What should we name her twin sister?"




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"I... I'm not sure if I'm ready for this..."

"Every performer would think of that, Sweetie dear," Rarity assured.
"You will be incredible on stage. Crimson knows that, Spike knows that and I know that. I'm certain you would know about it too. Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and I have seen your preparations, dear, and I must admit, I myself was absolutely enthralled by your rehearsal."

"But.. b-b-but... what if I mess up? What... what if I forgot the... but--"
Sweetie Belle's stuttering was interrupted by the resounding echo of an applause from thousands, reverberating through plaster walls where behind them was the sight of the previous fellow contestant bowing with dignified integrity underneath a shower of varicolored petals and a cone of white light. Much to her older sister's pained irritation, she started to back away from stage, teeth chattering, hooves wobbling and sweat worming down her neck; any minute longer, she would've been dancing frenziedly in a circle!
"I'm not ready! I'm not ready! Tell them I'm withdrawing-- no, that'll be too late. Can I change a song? But there's no time! THERE'S NO TIME!! Uh... uh... oh, what do I do, what do I do, WHAT DO I--!!"

A gentle hoof was placed on her lips, skidding her hysteria to a halt as her green eyes stared into the dilated yet calming sapphire pupils of her elder sister, whom gave her a smile replete with hope.
"Stage fright is normal, Sweetie Belle. It's a choice - your choice - on whether you muster up the courage to face it or not, because you have an exceptional talent, Sweetie; it would be shameful for those eager to see you if you give up now. Especially your friends."

"But I... I don't think I'm ready..."

"You're more than ready, darling," Rarity replied with a wink, nuzzling her sister affectionately and making her giggle.
"Now, are you ready to blow Canterlot's socks off? You have a show to put on!"

Sweetie Belle gulped, horn glowing emerald like her eyes as she raised a microphone. The merry voice of the show's host soon died down, and she felt her hooves earnestly, if not nervously, guiding herself onward to the stage, welcomed by an applause. Alone. In the view of a thousand pair of eyes, not to mention the cyclops-lens of cameras that allowed for probably tens of thousands more. Plain lovely.
"One chance," her thoughts advised.
"Don't mess it up."

Strings hummed a sinister melody behind, and as the light fades back towards her and the microphone, she closed her eyes, letting the flourishing music flow within her. It was like a trail, bendy but smooth enough to skate on, like a frozen river, ironically lush with a life in the form of a harmonious melody. The notes flashed like luminous blocks, lighting up every time its presence is needed; a technicolor signal light, if she were to describe it.
Sure enough, the patient audience became an unnecessary sight to see, and as Sweetie Belle closed her eyes, so were the thoughts of them as well. Her ears resonated, her heart thumping to each flit of the beat, and soon came the time for the first few phrases to be uttered.

"L'amour est un oiseau rebelle..."

"Love is a rebellious bird," came Rarity's inner voice, the mare having strode back to her seat from behind the stage. Frankly speaking, Sweetie Belle's song choice was unexpected, if not complicated. To take the aria from Georges Bizet's famous opera Carmen was seriously something for a fourteen year old teenage mare, especially when the language requires articulation of extraordinary boundaries (at least, for her) was nothing short of astonishing.
Applause was quick to return as it was to depart, yet Sweetie Belle remained unhindered. It wasn't a duty about satisfying them, or finishing the song anymore; it was a duty to enrapture them. Herself included, albeit unwittingly.

All Rarity could do was watch with leaking emotions from the seats with the highest of pride, hoof curled underneath Spike's claw and lips broadening. Sweetie Belle had a powerful gift, she thought to herself; music carried her problems away in that moment, namely the daring attack in the bedroom days ago that still freshly scarred her and the dragon.
Spike himself was in a moment of silence, and oh, did he relish it! His swaying head and supple smile would've been a strange sight in Canterlotian standards. For a dragon to enjoy the Equestrian opera? Very unheard of indeed!

The rest of her friends just wore looks of awe. Twilight had already dropped her research book, her jaw soon following along with Radiance, whom the scholarly mare had to take care of for now, jolting up from his seat. Same goes for Scootaloo and the Apple family, consisting of Applejack, Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh with Amber Rose perching excitedly on her father's hooves, her fledgling wings already flapping rapidly.
Fluttershy wasn't present, however: a pegasus sent by Spitfire told them something came up with Rainbow Dash, and she volunteered to head to Cloudsdale with the prayers of the rest to see whatever happened. Dread soon came after, though the beast was tamed when the song begun, yet the idea of their friend and mother-to-be in danger was still distressing.

"She sings beautifully, your sister."

Rarity turned to her left, stifling a smile when she saw Fancypants and Fleur seating down next to them: the couple she didn't expect to attend a contest for teenagers. It was the mare that gave the compliment, and that meant a lot, a compliment from a pony experienced in performances such as these.
"I must say, I am utterly surprised somepony so young knew of an opera almost obsolete," she continued.
"She truly is gifted. What's her name, if I may ask?"

"Sweetie Belle."

"Forgive my innuendo," Fancypants chirped, "but she surely has a sweet tinkle of a bell in her voice."
The three ponies laughed quietly, turning their attention back to the teenager on stage. It wasn't long before Spike noticed their presence, extending a greeting warm as the flames in his heart. Fancypants was more hesitant to accept it; having seen the dragon's anger back at the palace, Rarity wouldn't blame him.
Suffice to say, Twilight and her had a small talk about it. Both unicorns agreed there was something unnatural about Spike's anger. The fury of dragons were already conventional to them, having faced a few in their past, but their fellow dragon seemed to possess, as Twilight had assumed it to be from the tingle in their horns, a touch of magic. Spike himself didn't seem to have notice the oddity, and so did the Princess, unless the alicorns had insight of it from the beginning.

"Do you know this opera? As in its storyline?" Fleur asked Rarity, to which the mare shook her head.
"It's the norm these days, for ponies to remember the rhapsodies and arias from them and not the story. At most they would remember, like many ponies I know, were the names of the operas they came from. Slightly disheartening for the composers, really."

With a sigh, Fleur tucked her hooves in, fashion designer listening attentively as she began:
"The name derives from a gypsy mare, Carmen, who had earned the infatuation of a stallion named Don José. At first, José pays no attention, but soon enough Carmen starts to woo him and win his affection, resulting in turning him from an honest and pure soldier into deserter, vagabond and finally, murderer. In the end, José killed Carmen in some sort of fight. It's a tragic tale, really, of how love can twist a colt's heart, and how Carmen orchestrated it only for her own desires."

"So who was supposed to sing Sweetie Belle's line?" Rarity asked.

"Carmen herself."

The mare shuddered at the answer, turning back to the grandeur performance of her younger sister. To sing the lines of a deceptive, callous witch who tugs the strings of love like a demented puppet show, it was profoundly unsettling as much as it was admittedly glorious.
"However dramatic it may be, it's all true," Fleur whispered.
"I know a few mares who fell into this unfortunate situation. Colts as well. Soarin', for example..."

"Soarin'?" Rarity asked, completely taken aback.
"As in the Wonderbolts Soarin'? The same stallion that married Rainbow Dash?"

Fleur responded with a small, somber nod.
"Supposedly, back in the University of Canterlot, Soarin' was in love with this mare after Spitfire denied his request at them being together. You know how Spitfire is, being hard-headed and all. She wanted their relationship to stay as best friends, and it has been like that since then."

"Anyways, this mare reputedly had earned his affections somehow, and the two were frequently seen with each other. They were a cute couple back then, always wooing each other with flowers and gifts until they went on a date to celebrate the anniversary of their relationship, I think. It was really unclear what happened, but Spitfire told me one night she found him on the verge of suicide in the middle of the road, covered in few splatters of blood and shouting about how much he loathed her and how much he wanted to strangle and rip her apart."

"And?" Rarity couldn't help but ask.
"What happened to the mare?"

"Died of a mandrake overdose a few days later," was the answer, making the fashion designer gasp.
"Unbelievable really. Nopony deserves to have their emotions manipulated, and she certainly got what was coming. Spitfire even told me Soarin' laughed when he heard of it, but he soon holed up in his dorm, demanding to be alone for a few days even. Whatever happened that night stabbed him deep, and every time Spitfire tried to ask, he would just shout back, asking her not to care about it."

"But surely something must've happened, right?" Rarity asked, just as the crowd gave a standing ovation to the now bowing Sweetie Belle and prompting her and Fleur to join along amid their conversation.
"You couldn't possibly say those blood splatters came out of nowhere, right?"

"That was the problem. Soarin' wasn't hurt in any way, and even if he was, he had faced worse before. That night really broke his spirit somehow, and he didn't want to tell us."

It was an intricate mystery, but one that she decided to save for later when her sister trotted up to her side, excitedly squealing in joy at her success.
"I can't believe I did it! I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it--"

"You sure did, Sweetie Belle," Rarity cut in. Any second more, her mind would've screamed in agony and send herself down to Tartarus. Fleur and Fancypants smiled warmly as they hugged, the sight of the sisterly bond ever fulfilling the passion of love; one they were certain would treasure.

"Who's my number one singer?"

"Spike!!" she cried out in gleeful joy, giving the dragon a tight hug as well. Spike himself chuckled warmly, raising her high up with his arms like a father would to his child, the teenager happily laughing at her free ride. Rarity couldn't help but laugh quietly as well, shaking her head at her drakefriend's mischievous ardor.
Although obviously not related by blood, Sweetie Belle had always seen him as an older brother, much like how she was her older sister. The fact that he was a growing dragon didn't seem to intimidate her view of him as a good friend ever since they were young, and to say that she wasn't any happier than she was before he moved in seemed like the greatest lie of the century. After all, it was great for somepony, or dragon, to replace her when Sweetie wanted to play in the rain, but that was a long time ago.

Rarity sighed. How life passes on so quickly.

"Umm...... Rarity...?"

The unicorn turned around, her surprise evident to the pegasus before her. For it was a nervous Fluttershy, teeth sinking into lips. It was disappointing for her to entirely miss Sweetie Belle's performance, but now's not the time.
"You're back, darling!" she exclaimed.
"So how's Rainbow Dash? Did anything happen to her?"

"Y-Yes..." the pegasus stuttered, though not before letting out a smile.
"But, oh, it's just the most wonderful news!"

Fluttershy beckoned her closer, just enough for a whisper to reach her ears. And so she did, the news of their absent friend's condition trailing through the air and planting itself into Rarity's head. It took a while for the message to slip through its rickety gears, the unicorn's beryl eyes widening immediately when it finally struck her clean with disbelief.

"WHAT?!!"




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"Good. And what of the guards?"

"All on duty and on the lookout, your Highness," Shining Armor replied.
"Every division is accounted for, and nopony would slip through our gates without identification. I've made sure the best of the best that the Royal Guard can offer are available.

It was undeniably frightening to face the three alicorns before him, two superiors of Equestria and the other being his wife, with all three sharing the single expectation: that Canterlot would be heavily fortified and watched, where no guard will be off the hook unless for reasons deemed viable by the Captain of the Royal Guard, which is none other than he and he himself. Nevertheless, he trusts their judgement and choices as they trust him with his duties as the captain; Celestia and Luna were his aunt-in-laws, after all.
"And we shall presume that these precautions would be applied in other towns?" Princess Luna asked.

"No doubt about it, your Highness."

Already the straining pressure was starting to get into his head, and for a very good reason: it's been awhile since the Changeling attacks and the dragon transgression last year that the Royal Guard had to fortify the capital to such an extent. Then again, the alicorns weren't so much as demanding back then, and there weren't any bomb attacks as well. Clearly, this... Janus pony had already influenced a stir of fear in regions around Equestria, particularly the regions around Trottingham, and Princess Celestia had made every available attempt to calm them down.
Other than that, there were the usual ruffians and scallywags he has to deal with. Canterlot, despite being the home for the aristocracy, also had what some would say a city below. Behind its decorated buildings, there were ponies homeless and jobless, wandering to look for easy money and test their luck. Some would say the Canterlotian suburbs, more affectionately known to the high society as the 'slums', were homes to all sorts of criminals, but like how they would respect the Princess, the ponies have a star of their own as well.

The Masque of Canterlot.

The thief of the night, stealing from the rich as if they deserved it. Shining knew three things about him: that he was from the suburbs and well respected by the ponies there; that he was a pegasus, from eyewitness reports, wearing a mask and has a flair for roses, and that he always chooses the big heists.
The latter proved right again when a pony reported of his entire vault stash being stolen. Supposedly, the vault contained five gold-gilded statues of ponies and eighteen chests containing gold bars, but what was the most valuable is an eight-hundred carat emerald, mined from the border between Equestria and the Badlands. Time and time again, Shining was always late to the scene, and time and time again, the Masque left his telltale rose, teasing him almost to the brink of hatred, as if a strong rivalry was formed between them.

"Major cities have implemented them already," he continued, ignoring self-conjured taunts by the Masque himself.
"We're trying to split the guards towards the smaller towns nearby Canterlot, like Appleloosa, Cloudsdale and Ponyville, for example. Manehatten, Seaddle, Stalliongrad and Fillydelphia have already had guards placed in response to the bomb threats."

"Trottingham was struck before them, however," Cadance suddenly spoke.
"It would be faster to tend to the other major cities first. Ponies from the southern regions like Canterbury and Trotterdam are already reporting of strange activity."

"And of the progress of the negotiations bureau?"

"Cervinus emissaries from the east regions of the Darkhat Valley told us that their Emperor Ōshika and Lord of the Kingdom of the Panda Ju Xiong had agreed to send help. Saddle Arabia, along with the Kingdoms of Zebrabwe and Camelroon had already prepared an army to meet the battalion down south. Negotiations with Elephantine are still underway, along with the plutocratic gryphon, hircus and minotaur states of the Highlands Mhór Aontacht Cónaidhm: the Highlands Grand Unity Federation. Same results for the pegasi nations of Grande Aurora and the thestral-controlled Von Umbra. The Sovereign Federation of Draconis, however, rejected requests immediately. Other kingdoms have yet to respond."

"So we have our Eastern and Southern borders secure, the Northern territories still underway and the dragon kingdoms still declining to help."
Princess Celestia bit her lip. Janus's forces included most, if not all species of their allies. Already the minotaur clans of Windrelhyme have attacked and razed a few northeastern villages, forcing them to push their forces upwards while ponies still resumed their daily lives. It was a sort of cold war to the citizens, but in reality the conflict had already begun, swept underneath the rug from even her faithful student, Twilight to prevent panic in the streets.
"Resume the negotiations with the dragons, and hasten the remaining others. We have no idea the size of our enemy's armies, but it's best we prepare for the worst."

"My fellow princesses~!!"

Celestia and Luna flinched at the voice booming throughout the room, the palace walls shuddering at its inexplicably farcical, if not mischievous accent and its exceptionally profound volume. The cackle that followed was mirth, and with a roll of their eyes and a groan, both alicorns turned to a stained glass window.
The glass impression of a snakelike figure within it soon pranced about its small, fragile dominion, before bouncing out and bursting into a purple, sparkling cloud of smoke that left Shining Armor coughing for air. His odd pair of legs: one reptilian, the other of a goat, strutted forward in a foxtrot, the white fan of hairs on the end of his draconic tail flapping with false obedience. His yellow eyes happily grinned back at the somber ones of the princesses, and meekly he gave a bow, extending his right paw as he knelt on his goat knee.
"Surprised?" he snickered.

"Never will be," the older alicorn deadpanned.
"What brings you here, Discord?"

"Oh, fun and alicorns never seem to go together, do they?" the draconequus proclaimed, obviously never hearing her question. At least, not bothering to. He nudged Shining Armor at that, who hesitantly stepped to the side, making him bemoan in rejection.
"What is with these ponies? Of all that Discord asks to have a little fun, all of you just treat me like an ignorant rampant beast! Oh, the equestrian horror!"

"Save your laments for later," Luna spoke up, obviously not amused.
"We have responsibilities to tend to."

"Responsibilities. Shmishponsibilities. Pah, I say!"
With a snap of his talons, a relaxer skidded up right behind him, prompting him to kick back his odd pair of legs and, much to the ponies' displeasure, lie back in the middle of the throne room. The cerulean mare rose to protest, though her sister's hoof stopped her short, beckoning her to sit back down.
"It's one thing to tend to responsibilities," Discord continued.
"It's another to sit back on your throne and idle about, watching as your days," he pointed at Princess Celestia, "and your nights," then to Luna, "just linger by while the lives of your subjects are at stake. Take me, for example, having sent towards the Changeling Nests for negotiations by a certain almighty somepony isn't an all-pleasing experience."

"Of course, Discord," Princess Celestia replied.
"And? Did Chrysalis agree on our terms?"

"Takes a little... wooing. One does not simply earn the queen's affections in a changeling community, it seems. Stereotypical as it may be, she certainly has an uncanny habit of being the ambitious queen she entitled herself as. Stereotypical as it may be as well, I emerged successful. Again."
Discord raised an eyebrow when Cadance let out a cough, the young alicorn looking away when he struck his gaze to her. Clearing his throat, a small martini popped up in his talons, complete with a curled straw, an orange umbrella and a microscopic rubber duck swimming around its colored bowels.
"So I suppose I can return to my... preferences now?" he asked, wearing a smirk.
"I have to say, my spine is really acting up! Would never be fitting in this ill, cold palace. Surely, relaxation is a salvation you would bother to tend to?"

A mild shake of the older alicorn's head just made the draconequus shrug his shoulders.
"I really would never consider the fact being you then," he replied with a chortle.
"I bid thee farewell, my fellow Princesses. And Shining Armor, is it?"

"Y-Yeah?" the stallion replied, his ears perking when Discord let out his queer response that left everyone else, especially him and Cadance if not a little confused:

"Let's say one's indulgence in another's sweet nothings might not seem tolerable in your standards."




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"Wake up..."

A voice, sweet as buttered honey syrup from a mare of caramel. Pinkie could scarcely remember her face, yet her matching yellow eyes... it gave a sense of familiarity somehow, even though she couldn't figure out where she had seen them before. They were like fireflies, or burning candles, or even a hobby-lantern. That's it... two hobby-lanterns guiding her in a diminishing world.

"Pinkie..."

Her presence felt foreboding, as if she was never supposed to be there, but conclusively it was comforting and pacified a fear in her heart. What fear it was, she had no knowledge of, and Pinkie couldn't help but feel somehow she was entangled in this, yet those two yellow eyes... it was a nirvana in chaos.

"Wake up..."

Her head jolted to a halt. Wake up? From what? Isn't she awake already?
She could solemnly swear her eyes were open, and that there was a mare, covered in shade and fog with body translucent smiling back at her. There was no doubt about it: she was clearly awake, and was... what was she doing anyway?

"...wake up... WAKE UP ALREADY!!"

Black shattered within its frames, caused by a splash of freezing water that would've substituted for ice if not for its liquidity. Within seconds, Pinkie was flung back, away from the ethereal pony that gave her solace, away from the totality of the world that is peace itself, and soon found herself staring straight into a pair of brutal green eyes.
"Miss Pie," he chuckled grimly.
"Did my colleague really... jerk you that far into unconsciousness? I might need to have a talk with him later; we're supposed to keep our guests comfortable."

"Wh-where am..." she began muttering.
"You...! You were... no! No!"

Her hoof jerked and tugged frantically, yet the tight ropes suspending her to some sort of large tombstone rendered her struggles useless. Pinkie opened her mouth to scream, yet the pony clamped a hoof over her mouth before she could. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, violently coughing when the hoof departed from her mouth, leaving behind a gagging taste of desolation and burnt scab.
"I must say, Miss Pie, your fruitless struggles did amuse me," her captor continued with a laugh, drawing a scalpel across her heaving chest and leaving behind a small slash of blood; one that made her cringe.
"That's for the amusement. On the contrary, you also annoyed me..."

Before Pinkie could respond, the pony swung a hoof across her face, forcing out a yelp of pain as the first trickles of blood flew from her mouth and leaving behind a purple bruise on her cheek. She quivered, gritting her teeth and turning back to face those pair of green eyes; once the subject of her fear, now a topic of loathing.
"Is that all you can do..." she taunted.

"Pinkie!" another squeakier voice shrilled, the pink mare peering over her shoulder to see a faint glimpse of light zipping about in a glass flask.
"Don't! Just don't!"

"L-Luster...?"

"Pahaha~!!" her captor let out an undeniably strange laugh.
"Already making some new, local friends now, are we, Miss Pie? Have you already forgotten those that stuck with you? The one that called themselves... the caravan?"

With a clack of his hooves, a group of minotaurs soon came into view, pushing giant wooden racks around her in a circle. Pinkie gasped in horror at the stunned faces of her fellow prisoners, all bruised and battered with the least serious being a small slash mark down a hoof.
The one before her coughed, barely raising his head as splatters of blood ran down from his lips. His tail was strained; forcefully strapped down like his four hooves and paper-wrapped as if it was the bristles of a broom.
"P-Pinkie...?" he managed to stutter.

"Phoenix...!"

"Seems you do remember this bunch."
The dark purple pegasus shrugged, and as he trotted away Pinkie strained her head, unable to restrain her tears at the sight of a bruised and battered caravan around her. Velvet's head was bruised, with one single, thick line of blood flowing down from head to hoof, the stallion still unconscious from it. Ollivander's left talon almost seemed dislocated, as if somepony forcefully bent it past its limit. Selena and Dapple were battered and abused, thrown around like morsels of meat for violence to spare. Ganger was limp from his injuries, and Pinkie would've thought he was dead if not for his hefty gasps of air.
Brutus... the minotaur looked like he was punched a dozen times in the face, slammed in the groin and thrown off a cliff leading down into a field of jagged rocks, and hung up again as a punching bag! It was as if every hit he took was blooming with hatred and fury, and she couldn't help but wonder if something happened between him and the minotaurs under this crazed pony's command that caused this.

"Oh, silly me!" their captor exclaimed gleefully.
"I really forgot to introduce ourselves! The name's Commander Hellion, in charge of leading my own band called the Umbra Fuga. We're basically called dastardly names by those with no idea of our profession, so I'll make it clear and simple for all of you: we do what we want. And our choice to join forces with the Taurian clan of Ferrafell for this capture seemed inevitable, as we both serve under one lord. One king for our future."

"R-Really?" Ollivander snorted.
"He doesn't have a name?"

"He does, in fact," Hellion, as he called himself, said, trotting up to the gryphon's side and gripping his injured talon.
"He's known in this world by many names," he forcefully jerked it, pausing as Ollivander screech in pain, "and he has seen many things in time," he paused again for another tug and screech, "but we prefer to call him..."

"Janus..."

One more tug sent the gryphon doubling over in pain, his screams breaking throughout the shrine. Pinkie turned away, fresh tears falling from her eyes as every agonizing tug and shriek froze into her head, and before she could protest, somepony else beat her to it.
"LET HIM GO!!" Selena screamed, twisting and yanking at her leather bonds.
"LET HIM GO, YOU DISGUSTING MONSTER!!"

"Frankly speaking, he shall be arriving soon," the pegasus continued, eyes glinting triumphantly at the looks of fear adorned on every single face there is to see. With cold mercy, he released his tight grip on Ollivander's hoof, leaving the gryphon gasping and his marefriend sobbing with a mix of relief and helpless despair.
"In fact, his summoning should be beginning now. I'm sure he would be glad to know that all of you would be honored in his presence. However, he has his sights set on clearly only one pony; one I'm sure he wouldn't have the slightest bit of mercy for."

All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, who silently gasped herself. They want her? Of all the ponies in the world, her? But why? Why in the world would they want her for? What did she do wrong?
"No..." she whimpered.
"There has to be a mistake... I don't even know him! I don't even know what I did wrong!!"

"You don't have to, Miss Pie. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Hellion soon trotted away from her, heading across up to a hexagonal vessel with a pyramid of wood already arranged onto it. With his nod, the minotaurs held up large pitchers of liquid, grunting as a reeking smell of oil soon filled the shrine, making all of them cough lightly.
The commander himself struck a match, and threw it inside, setting the timbers alight into a grand bonfire. Already giant plumes of smoke billowed from it, blotting out the starless sky with marring clouds and desecrate the holy shrine with its raging nature, so much that Pinkie could hear Luster's gloomy twinkle as the spirit started to sniffle, and all for naught. Without a second thought, Hellion struck two hooves up into the sky, wings flapping diligently with his booming voice echoing into a decrepit chant:

"Cælum respondere nobis; vestra sanctos servos..."

"Pink... Pinkie?"

The said mare just glanced up at the voice, staring straight into the battered visage of Phoenix Mellow. The stallion wore a look of fear (a first, she surmised) and vexation, watching earnestly as the heat from the flames raged behind him.
"Did they hurt you...?"

"A little..." she replied quietly.
"But what they did to you... why did they..."

"It's nothing compared to what I've faced."
There's the usual Phoenix Mellow again, she thought to herself with a chuckle. Always trying to act brave in front of his friends. He returned her laugh with one of his own, albeit a more sheepish one at that.
"But seriously, I've faced a bear before. Their bites are horrendous. This ain't nothing compared to bears."

"Misit rex noster Omnipotens!! Misit deus, salus ex!!"

"Are you scared, Pinkie?"

"What?"

"Are you scared?" he repeated his question.

"A little," Pinkie replied hesitantly with a tremble. She was downright terrified, to be honest.
"What about you?"

"Beginning to," was the unexpected answer, making her giggle.
"Think about it: being captured by ponies that we first met about only a week ago; being tied up like some blasted dolls, and now they're summoning some almighty lord to... to..."

"Ipsius autem festum ades! Et ipse primordiis, actionem!!"

"P-Phoenix?"

"They couldn't be possibly thinking of killing you..." the colt hissed suddenly.
"They might as well have my head first! It just isn't right!"

"No, Phoenix," Pinkie replied coldly, surprising him.
"You can't die for something I did. If I deserve it, then I'll have what's coming. But if I don't, then perhaps somepony would come down and save me or whatever. I just hope that it wouldn't be a pumpkin monster."

"Veni, Domine Ianus! Veni propter prædam tuam!!"

Both ponies laughed at the inside joke, though it was immediately silenced once Pinkie felt herself moving, glancing to her side to see two minotaurs pushing her cart forward. Exchanging one last look of worry with Phoenix, she turned to face the blazing flames, almost as if devouring the air around her and greedily tossing about in its bowel to reach out for her.
Hellion zipped to her side, smiling intently as he drew out his razor. She held her breath, biting her lip as he freed a single hoof, pulling it out and extending it over the flame like a barbecue, the tip of the sharp razor sinking into her skin.
"It will be quick..."

One swipe and tingles of torn nerves, along with the invasion of sweat droplets, made her elicit a whimper. The first drops of blood soon leaked out, dripping with a sizzle into the flames and taken into the ravaging inferno. Hellion soon cuffed her back, pulling her away from the flame by a little. Just by a little.
Suddenly, with a small whip, the fire suddenly erupted, turning into a deep, rampant green as venomous as the eyes of the pony who orchestrated it. Pinkie watched in awe at its entrancing dance, and however hot it may be, it couldn't stop the ice of fear freezing up the veins of her hearts.

Amid the flame emerged a shadow, pouring out the core of its fiery mouth and reaching out towards the pink mare. She trembled in fear, jerking and pulling at her bonds as she saw, rising from the depths of horror, death and hatred itself, a pony, unlike anything she had seen before, staring back with blood-red eyes forged from the cruelest pits of Tartarus, eagerly flashing at the sight of her face.
She wanted to scream, hooves frantically kicking in its bonds, to no avail as the figure crept closer. A deep, booming laugh flared through the shrine, corrupted and evil with dreadful wisdom and a fervor of insanity. Pinkie forced her eyes shut, gritting her teeth while the dark presence crept closer and closer...

"BEGONE!!!"

Suddenly, the growing flame warped and contorted, its tip disappearing into naught as it swallowed itself into the void. Pinkie soon opened her eyes, confusion and gasping relief running through her convulsing body before she glanced about, bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

"YOU FOUL DEMONS THAT DARE TAINT MY SHRINE!!"

The shrine walls trembled at the foreign voice, filled with rage and despair, yet a more reasonable one. Every one of their captors, be it pegasus or minotaur, jolted up in fear, glancing hastily about the shrine with weapons ever ready, waiting for whatever that lurks in the mist.
But Pinkie knew, with a smile that mirrored that of Luster the hobby-lantern and the caravan's, whoever that was.

The ground started to rumble, and before any of them knew it, the floor of the shrine ruptured open, revealing colossal tendrils of bark and leaf bursting from within the ground, sending minotaurs into a frenzy and Hellion and his subordinates fleeting away. The branches rose like totems, trapping all their enemies and terrifying them with the vengeful rage of flora, chasing them off with every tree breaking through the floor.
Pinkie gaped in amazement at the sight of the towering evergreens, the many giant flowers starting to blossom at the first dainty touch of sunlight. Flocks of hummingbirds, bees and butterflies swarmed like locusts over them, gathering whatever sweet nectar they could scavenge from the still-growing plants.

"Pinkie, look out!!"

Phoenix's voice was too late; in no time at all, the mare suddenly felt herself lifted, hooves still trapped onto the rack. She whimpered as she tugged and pulled again, watching in frightful horror once the branches tossed her about like a gyroscope, giving her glimpses of the receding ground below her hooves, the sheer height making her pale.
Small vines soon tied around the wooden supports of her rack, and with a snap, Pinkie screamed for dear life as gravity yanked her back down, falling and falling almost perpetually through the sky and closing her eyes for the imminent hard landing about to meet her.

*PLOMF!!*

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, surprised to see a tuft of light green fur staring back at her. She finally let in a gasp of air, almost wanting to cry out of relief at the inexplicably strange creature she was sitting on.
Her thoughts of finding out what it was, however, soon tossed itself back into the void when she saw curled locks in a mane, colored pale brown and dark green. A pair of wings aided in its owner's descent, and what surprised her was that it too possessed the horn of unicorn, at the base of it was a crown, fashioned in a golden laurel wreath with a small diamond embedded in its center.
"You're safe now, pink one," came a voice; soft, sweet and mellow as the fresh air of spring, with the harmonious chirp of a bird yet the serene quietude of a breeze. There was, no doubt, who it was that saved her, and Pinkie couldn't help but squeal with glee, replying with a cheerful grin:

"Your Highness...!"