TWILIGHT’S THROAT BURNED as she charged through the Everfree forest, her hoofs screamed as they were assaulted by thorns and pitfalls. Zecora’s hut, the location of an emergency tribunal, appeared through gaps in the dark foliage. Twilight came to a slow stop, her chest rising and falling franticly. She tore the message from her bag and examined it for what she assumed must have been the hundredth time.
“Twilight, come to Zecora’s hut immediately, come alone.”
The words where scratched onto the parchment, enhancing the gravity of the situation. Twilight read the one line three times before replacing it back in her bag, she approached the dark hut. The darkness and freezing winds swallowed her. Twilight was afraid, terror held her in its firm embrace. She was no stranger to danger or harm, she had always placed the well being of her friends and Equestria before her own without question, but in those trials she knew what faced her. She knew her enemy, her knowledge of the threat was defined her strength. But this time her mind was blank, Twilight had known of the black pony that threatened Equestria, she had even spoken with him on some occasions, but she knew nothing of his strategies, his tendencies, his allies, or even the strange theory he created during his time in the castle. Twilight knew nothing, and the sudden lapses in her magical ability only added to her panic. Twilight felt as if she had already failed the task Celestia would charge her with. Twilight felt useless. She steadied her breathing, attempting to maintain some form of sense in her being, and stepped into the hut.
The air in the cramped hut was boiling, not in the sense of heat but in power, Twilight immediately felt a surge of energy. It was as if the veil that hung over ponyville had suddenly been lifted, Twilight sensed her magical potential rising, she felt lighter, and stronger, the sensation was intoxicating. Twilight, her mind still fixed upon the room’s aura, tripped over a bucket, announcing her presence to the huts two other occupants.
"Twilight, come here, I need to explain some things to you." Celestia's voice was solemnly calm, like she had just made a regretful decision. Twilight approached the princess, now noticing the hunched form of the zebra Zecora. The zebra sat at the base of a large cauldron that bubbled with an ever changing hue of colors. Zecora tossed random bones, rocks, and grasses into the container in-between incoherent mumbling in her foreign language. As Twilight approached the dark cauldron she saw Celestia casually toss a scroll into the liquid, the parchment burst into a blue colored inferno as it touched the pots contents, disappearing instantly. Celestia turned to Twilight, her eyes were devoid of the compassion and understanding they once held, instead they held only a grim determination and sorrow.
“Did you know a pony named Reik?” Celestia’s gaze was bolted to the small purple pony before her. Twilight gave a quick bow and cleared her throat. “Not really, I, err, we weren’t, uh.” Twilight’s shaking voice was cut off by Celestia’s “He was my political advisor for many years; during his time in office he created a new system of government which also included plans to overthrow me. Without my consent he was expelled from Canterlot and declared an outlaw. Now he is back to put those plans into action.” The cauldron let out a low grumble and in a flash of orange light, a small scroll was flung from the mix. The scroll drifted lazily in the air before being quickly snatched by the princess who read it quickly before letting out a long sigh. Celestia once again turned to twilight. “But tonight he not only infiltrated the castle, he escaped with documents and a magical talisman.” Celestia turned to a small desk along a wall of the hut and began writing on a piece of parchment, leaving her student to her own thoughts.
Twilight stood motionless, her mind applied her knowledge to the situation, holes where filled, questions answered, but more quickly where they replaced by more questions. “Why can’t I use my magic?” Celestia answered without breaking concentration on the parchment or the worn quill levitating over it. “Zecora tells me the talisman belonged to her kind. They locked it away in a temple but Reik must have acquired it during our visit to that land. I believe he is using the talisman to dampen any and all forms of magic in the vicinity of ponyville, luckily Zecora created this portal that counter acts the talisman and allows me to keep in contact with the outside world.” Twilight spoke as soon as the princess finished. “Do we know what Reik is planning?” Celestia finished writing the message and quickly tossed it into the cauldron. “No, we can only wait at this time.” Twilight continued her curiosity insatiable. “Why did you call me here?” Celestia didn’t face the purple pony, instead reaching for another scroll. “Because, my magic is limited outside of this hut, and even in here I don’t fully know what is going on. I will need you to return here as often as possible and keep me updated on the situation in Ponyville. Now go, warn the ponies in the village.” Twilight nodded proudly and turned to exit, eager to aid her distressing princess. She stopped in the doorway, one question remained. “Why did you stay, it’s incredibly dangerous for you to be anywhere near here.” Celestia faced Twilight, turning away from the cauldron and bringing herself to full stature. Even in such unremarkable conditions, to Twilight the sight was inspiring. “This was my mistake, I forced my kingdom into this strife, I will lead it out, I will not leave and subject my subjects to his wrath.” The words hung in the air, unopposed save for Zecora’s quiet chants.
IT IS ALWAYS easier to die, to succumb to fate and the choices of others. These where Reik’s first thoughts as he regained consciousness, he groaned loudly and tried to rise. The air, contrary to his assumption, although cold, was nowhere near the freezing winds he expected. The wooden floorboards creaked as he tried to get a decent footing.
“Welcome back to the realm of the living.” The female tone was calm and positive. Reik opened his eyes for the first time but they were immediately overwhelmed by light, he shut them in agony. “Let your eyes adjust.” The voice was closer, right next to him. For the second time, Reik opened his eyes, although not completely adjusted; they brought him back into the world. The room was familiar, cloths and silks hung in tatters everywhere. Dresses and coats lay in heaps across the floor. Sewing machines rested on a desk, covered in cobwebs and dust. A flare shot up in his memory. This was the home of Iris, the seamstress. Reik shifted his gaze to the female pony before him. She stood at his side; a slight grin on her face, her mane was red, a pair of wings rested on her flank, and a golden tail rested on her rear. A gear wheel was her cutie mark and a set of brass goggles concealed her eyes. Her mane was dotted with black spots and powder burns, she reeked of coal. To Reik she was a stranger. “You are not Iris.” The red pony removed her goggles, exposing her unblemished brown eyes. “I am Iris, you’re not one for remembering ponies are you?” Her tone was playful, as if they had known each other for a lifetime. “Iris had a different cutie mark; it was a thread and needle.” The red pony turned and began walking down a hallway. Reik followed at a distance, his caution took precedence over his curiosity. “A little bit of makeup can go a long way my friend.” Reik continued to follow Iris, the hallway ended at a wooden door. Iris began clearing piles of dresses from the doorway. “I didn’t know we were friends, and while we’re on the topic of questions, why is a pony with a cog for a cutie mark the owner of one of the most successful clothing shops?” Reik didn’t bother with subtlety, paranoia had saved him numerous times in the past and he was not about to abandon it in the midst of revolution. Iris responded with mock hurt. “For one that speaks of equality for all, you’re not very friendly.” She finished clearing the debris and rounded on Reik, her tone suddenly aggressive. “I saved you and your friend’s lives so be a little bit more respectful when you speak to me in my house.” She starred Reik down, Reik remained resolute. “I apologize, but in this situation, you must understand my caution.” Iris’s expression changed again to one of friendliness. “Better, now with regards to my cutie mark, I hate my profession, dresses, sewing, I hate it.” Reik looked upon Iris with curiosity. “Then why dedicate your life to it?” Iris turned towards the door, fumbling with a complex system of locks. “My mother was a seamstress, her mother was seamstress, and her mother was a seamstress. I don’t think a pony from my family would be welcome in any other profession.” Her tone was dismissive, as if this reality no longer fazed her. Reik continued his questioning. “Then what do you like? What is your calling?” Iris finished with the assortment of locks on the door and with a hoof on the doorknob, faced Reik, a subtle grin on her features. “Machines, I have more compassion for a single locking mechanism than a newborn.” With a small chuckle, Iris opened the portal and stepped through, Reik quickly following.
“No, no, no the government owns the means of production, and since the workers are the government, it is the workers that own the means of production.” Vladimir said with an irritated voice. The farmer George sat across from him at the small table in what Reik assumed was once the living room. Iris motioned for Reik to join the others as she went to inspect a pair of broken clocks. “Well Vladimir, I see you’ve regained your hearing.” Reik said calmly as he approached the two ponies; the sight of the large grey pony arguing with the small brown farmer made Reik chuckle. “Comrade, that talisman, it cured me, I don’t know how but it works!” Reik took his place at the wooden table. “That is good news, George; I didn’t expect to see you here.” The brown farmer shrank slightly at Reik’s attention.
“T-thank you, um, I found you and Vladimir next to the crashed flyer and, well, I couldn’t just take you into town, so I went to Iris, I knew she would have a solution.” Reik nodded in appreciation, bringing a proud grin from George. “How is your wife?” Reik asked. “I told her to leave Ponyville, I didn’t want her to be here if things go bad, but don’t worry she is safe.” George said, half mumbling. Reik turned to Vladimir. ”Well my friend, we’ve escaped the clutches of death, and our stealth is still intact.” Immediately remembering the plan, Reik checked his watch, eleven-thirty one. Reik’s heart virtually stopped.
“Comrade, is something wrong?” Vladimir asked, noticing his friend’s forlorn expression. “We’re out of time, we’re out of time, the revolution is failing, how long where we unconscious, no wait, that doesn’t matter.” Reik began pacing the room, panic slowly gaining more ground in his being. “Calm down, what’s wrong?” Iris had abandoned her work on the machines and entered the conversation. “The bombs, the caches, Canterlot will be a bonfire at midnight, its thirty minutes till midnight!” Reik practically screamed. Vladimir rose. “Canterlot is quite a ways away, there’s a blizzard out there and everypony except us is asleep, control yourself.” Reik was overcome with reason, they were right, the night had just begun and they still held the advantage. He must maintain composure, his strength was his mind, without it, he was doomed. “Yes, thank you comrade.” Vladimir sat, satisfied that his friend was once again calm. “But I must ask, Reik.” Vladimir’s tone was casual. “Where are our reinforcements?” Reik looked at Vladimir with pained confusion. “Our what?” he asked. Vladimir continued. “The army of revolutionaries you where busy gathering since your exile, when will they come into play?” Reik knew this moment would come eventually; better now than later he thought. “We’re it Vladimir.” The grey pony didn’t register the reality. “What?” he murmured. Reik tried, for naught unfortunately, to keep an inspiring and uplifting tone. “The four ponies assembled here are all that exists of the Communist party of Equestria.”