//------------------------------// // 1: Preparations // Story: Frequencies: To End The Signal // by Lord Destrustor //------------------------------// 110 “No.” “Applejack! You can’t be serious!” The farm mare took her hind hooves off of the large desk they’d been resting on, shifting to an upright sitting position on the tall chair of the Ponyville mayor’s office. Her expression made her reply obvious, as she stared at the small dragon standing in the middle of the room: “Ah can, an’ ah am. Mayor Mare, how many ponies are left livin’ in Ponyville?” The gray-maned mare standing by the nearest window adjusted her glasses while thinking over her answer. “I believe the latest census counted about… one-hundred-and-eighty-eight, including the seventeen afflicted unicorns we have in captivity.” The orange mare huffed approvingly, turning her attention back to Spike. “There. A hundred an’ seventy ponies left in town. This ain’t a city anymore. It’s a refugee camp. We ain’t got ponies to spare.” “But I found The Signal!” he said, raising a section of graph paper as proof. “We can end this! We can put a stop to all of this madness! We have to-“ “Ah said ah ain’t gonna send a bunch of ponies t’ their deaths out there, just ‘cause you wave a squiggly line in front o’ mah face! Y’can go along with yer little suicidal goose chase all ya want, but ah’ll be damned if ah let anypony follow you! We. Ain’t. Got. Ponies. T’spare.” Applejack was now standing up, both her forelegs stretched out above the desk making her tower over both Spike and the mayor. The little dragon looked at the beige mare by the window for support, but she quickly averted her eyes, head hung low. He looked back at Applejack, who held his gaze unflinchingly. Spike crumpled up the paper in his hands and threw it at the rich carpet on the ground with all his might before storming out of the office without another word. 114 “Spike, no!” “But I have to.” “This is a ridiculously dangerous idea and I don’t want you to do it! What if you get Ngh hurt or worse? What if you NNnnrgh get lost?” “Yeah? And what if I don’t? What if there’s no other way? What if I don’t go, and you get stuck like this for the rest of your life? What if I’m the only one in the whole world who can even try to stop this?” “But it’s much too dangerous! You can’t go alone! Aarggkkh I don’t want you to go! I won’t allow it!” “Humf, well Applejack certainly doesn’t want me to go with anyone.” “Well just let me talk to her! I’ll-“ “I’m not letting her anywhere near you ever again! Don’t you remember what she tried to do?” “Don’t think I’ve forrRRR-R-rrgotten! She had her reasons! And don't change the subject! You just can’t do this! I don’t want you to do this!” “I can, and I will! I’m not just a baby! I can do this, I will do this, and I’m sorry, but you’re not really in any position to stop me!” “…” “ … Please don’t leave me, spiKILL YOU YOU LITTLE VERMIN I’LL EVISCERATE YOU AND STOMP ON YOUR STOMACH UNTIL YOU DIE AND BLEED FROM EVERYWHERE AND I’LL CRUSH YOUR EYES AND EAT THEM” The stopwatch clicked, stopping at six minutes, eighteen seconds. Five seconds less than last time, but still squarely within the average. Still no sign of a definite trend developing. Absence of visual contact delayed the onset of aggression, but not by that much. Spike got up from where he was sitting in the stairway, out of Twilight’s sight, and poked his head in view. The lavender unicorn immediately began straining against the bars of her cell and growling, as usual. Tears had begun dripping from her eyes. “I’m doing this for you, Twilight. I have to go. I can’t stand waiting here anymore. I have to do something about it.” He turned and headed back downstairs. He had a new point of data to add somewhere in his charts. 117 Fluttershy trotted hurriedly through the light rain. She should have thought to bring an umbrella to the clinic this morning. Despite never working on the weather teams, her pegasus instincts had alerted her of the imminent downpour, yet she had ignored it. If only there were still ponies to control the weather. Like Rainbow Dash. She stopped for a moment, stunned by the mere thought of her late friend. She missed her so much. If only she’d stayed here, in the relative safety of Ponyville. If only… She shook her head and resumed her walk. Rainbow Dash was gone, just like Pinkie Pie, and moping about it wouldn’t change a thing. It certainly wouldn’t bring them back, and she still had obligations for those who were left, those who still needed her to care for them. She needed to be decisive and active. It was what Rainbow Dash would have wanted. The yellow pegasus made her way through the empty streets, passing collapsed buildings and piles of months-old rubble that nopony had bothered to clear. She soon saw her destination looming above the wreckage of the once-thriving village: the lush foliage of the treehouse library casting both a shadow over the entrance, and a large, dry circle where the drizzle failed to reach the earth around the trunk. She came up to the door and knocked gently. After about a minute, she knocked a little harder; Spike mustn’t have heard the first time. She finally decided to try the knob, as it was unlikely to be locked. The door swung open quietly and she carefully stepped inside. “Um, Hello? Is anypony home?” The main room of the library was as empty as it was perfectly clean. Everything was as neat and ordered as usual, perhaps even more so; Spike’s worktable had been cleared of everything but the research compendium and a strange grey steel cube. Before the yellow mare could take a closer look at the unusual object, she saw Spike walking in from the kitchen area, carrying a tea set on a tray. He paused for a moment as he spotted her, quickly resuming his walk towards the tables in the center of the room. “Oh hi Fluttershy! I didn’t even hear you come in! And you’re right on time too.” He set the tray on his worktable, climbing on his usual chair after everything was in place. “Have a seat, I just made some tea if you want some.” She watched him pour two cups as she sat down, noting how much livelier he seemed. He wasn’t as depressed as he had been for quite a while. Maybe he had some good news about Twilight? “So,” she asked, carefully taking the cup she was offered, “How’s Twilight doing? Any good news?” She paused for an instant as her expression shifted to grave concern. “Oh, no, I hope it’s not b-bad news, is it? D-did something happen to her? Is she doin-“ “Whoa, whoa! Relax! It’s fine! She’s fine! She’s, uh, well as bad as usual, actually. But nothing bad happened to her, okay?” “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, her posture deflating in relief. “I just get so worried sometimes…” A few moments of silence followed. Spike usually didn’t have a lot to discuss with Fluttershy, and she certainly wasn’t known to be the talkative sort. Their only point of conversation for the last few months had just been brushed aside, leaving a gaping hole where idle banter should have been found. They both fidgeted with their cups for a minute. “So,” he began, only to be interrupted by the yellow mare, much to his surprise. “What did you want to see me for, Spike?” Active and decisive. “Well, actually, uh, …you know what? I think I’ll just show you.” He set his cup on the table and slid the grey cube closer, clawing for a second at a small latch on one side. Once he flipped it, the cube split open with minimal effort, the top half coming to rest flush on the table. Linked to it by small copper hinges, the lower half was a simple full block upon which three wooden pegs stood straight up in an equilateral triangle. In the center of it all, a compass was embedded in the steel. The needle was very slowly turning, eventually coming to a rest in a seemingly random direction. As Fluttershy observed the point swaying back and forth somewhere between two scratched-off letters of the compass, with no more than a degree of variation, Spike spoke up. “I found The Signal. That compass is pointing straight at it. Or rather at the nearest source of it at least.” The yellow pegasus paled visibly, instinctively hiding behind her mane and scooting her chair just a few inches away from the direction indicated by the compass. “Oh, um, that’s great news, Spike, but, w-what does this have to do with me?” The young dragon sighed softly. “Nothing,” he said. “Not directly. But I have a huge favor to ask, though.” He gently closed the steel box and secured the latch, waiting for some sort of answer. Seeing that the mare was simply staring at him with an expression of anxious attention, he decided to assume she was at least going to hear him out. “I’d really appreciate it if you could look after Twilight while I’m gone.” “Gone? What, where? What do you mean, gone?” The pegasus looked around the room, fearfully looking for some kind of threat upon which to base her apprehension for the worst meaning of “gone” she could, and immediately did, imagine. The little dragon simply raised his arm, instantly drawing back Fluttershy’s attention as he pointed his claw in the same direction as the needle did mere moments before. “I’m going to go out there, find The Signal or whatever is causing it, and put a stop to it.” 119 “So I had the mayor prepare a special cell for her, with full opaque walls; she can sorta control herself for about five minutes when she can’t directly see anyone. Like, hearing ponies’ voices tells her they’re there, but she needs visual confirmation to, you know, ‘snap’ at them.” Fluttershy quietly nodded in assent at Spike’s words as they both walked through the town, Spike towing a cart full of books with both arms while the yellow mare pulled a small tarp-covered wagon. They were being escorted by a pair of militia ponies, both advancing with their weapons drawn; a large club and a small crossbow, held in their mouths by straps. “You’ll get to speak to her for a few minutes every four hours or so, if you stay out of sight. Also, I kept track of each dose I gave her over the months, and Zecora was right in her estimate that the magikill stays effective for just about eight days. So as long as you give her a dose every week, on the clock, she shouldn’t ever recover her magic.” The few ponies whom were out on the streets glared at them as they passed, obviously resenting the dragon, the pegasus and their cargo but too intimidated by the guards to do anything about it. Or maybe they were just squinting against the light of the sun, shining in their faces. “I guess I don’t have to explain how to uh, feed her and stuff, but FYI, she doesn’t like daffodils anymore. I think she was eating some when she… uh, when The Signal got her, you know?” “Oh my.” Said the quiet pegasus, keeping her gaze pointed forward at the towering spire of town hall slowly approaching. “I already brought a bunch of books and with these I think she’ll be set for a while, but feel free to search the library for any other she asks for. I’ll give you the key if you need it.” Silence fell on the group, broken only by the crunch of gravel under their hooves and feet, any piece of which might have once been part of a house’s walls of other such piece of the ‘before’. The large building in the center of Ponyville crept ever closer, the roughly-painted patches of repair contrasting lightly against the older portions of its walls. A half-dozen ponies wandered about around the circular plaza surrounding it. Seeing Applejack standing next to the main doors left a bitter taste in Spike’s mouth, although her presence was hardly surprising. She watched as they approached, her scarred face an emotionless mask. The two guards, a mare and a stallion, saluted when the group came to a halt before the steps. With a simple nod, the orange mare sent them off back to their usual routines. “Fluttershy!” She greeted the timid pegasus with a warm smile and a short hug. “Spike.” The greeting given to the young dragon nothing more than a passing glance and a nearly-imperceptible nod. “Oh, hello Applejack, it’s so nice seeing you. We hardly have time to speak to each other anymore…” The yellow mare trailed off, hesitantly, as if unsure of what she was getting at herself. “A darn shame too,” the farmer replied, breaking the hug to move closer to the covered wagon. With a simple flick she threw the tarp aside, revealing the bound and unconscious form of Twilight Sparkle. “But ah guess we all have our responsibilities to take care of.” She covered the unicorn once more, turning around to speak to her friend. “Y’all can go drop ‘er off; cage’s ready and ah guess ya know the way.” She simply stared ahead as she said this, watching a small orange pegasus approaching from further away. They proceeded to do so, greeting the mayor as they entered the building. She was personally manning the reception desk and nodded courteously as they passed, carefully beginning their descent to the basement. The stairs had been replaced with a rough ramp; the captured unicorns were usually wheeled in, and stairs just weren’t fit for carts and wagons. One of the basement guards came up to help them, her assistance making the incline much less dangerous. The two ponies and the dragon then made their way to the very end of the dungeon-like corridor, where Twilight would be residing for the foreseeable future. Her cell’s walls blocked the view completely, and their only features were the large steel door in the front and the many smaller sliding doors encircling the bottom. The heavy rivets seen all over the walls’ surfaces showing how the whole room was built to last, perhaps exceedingly so. The guard unlocked the door before helping Fluttershy lift and move Twilight to her new bed, while Spike hastily moved the books in his cart to the shelves of the cell. Once everything was settled, the guardsmare locked the door once more, double-checking to make sure the room was secure before heading back to the entrance with a polite nod. The raging threats from the various unicorns imprisoned on either side of the corridor followed her away. The pegasus and the young dragon stood there in silence for a moment, Fluttershy observing Twilight through the sliding peephole in the door. “You’ll take good care of her, right?” “Of course I will, Spike, don’t worry.” Spike hugged Fluttershy’s leg. He did not need to thank her, they both knew that she would have done so no matter the circumstances. Besides, the gesture expressed his gratitude just as well as words could. When he broke the hug, Fluttershy began to walk away, immediately stopped by Spike calling out to her. “Wait! I… there’s something else I want to ask you, Fluttershy.” She turned around to face him, wondering what was the matter. She waited for him to continue. “Could you hold out your hoof, please?” The shy pony cocked her head, taken aback by the strange question. “Um, uh, why, exactly? …If you don’t mind me asking, that is?” “I want to uh, attune my sending fire to you, so that I’ll be able to write you about what I find out there. You’ll be the one who gets the letters I send instead of the princess.” The yellow mare took a frightened step back, obviously worried about whatever the process of tampering with magical fire would require of her. She’d seen burn victims from close enough lately that she knew she definitely did not want to play with fire. “A-are you sure about this? Won’t this be d-dangerous?” “The princess was fine when we did it last time, so I guess it doesn’t actually really burn. I mean, I use it to send paper all the time and the letters are fine, so it should be good.” Spike briefly wondered if his fire was indeed harmless or if the princess was simply resistant to fire, considering her natural bond with the hottest object in the known world. “It’ll be fine.” Fluttershy hesitated for a moment before slowly, shakily raising her left forehoof, holding it at Spike’s eye level. The little dragon took a deep breath and gently breathed a steady stream of green flames over the mare’s appendage. She winced as the flames licked her hoof, withdrawing it a few centimeters before catching herself and extending it once more once she realized she felt no pain from the magical fire. Spike kept blowing his flames out until he ran out of breath, inhaling back most of the fire when he drew his next gasping lungful. He felt the flames quieting back down in his gullet, like they had done with the princess once; an awkward sort of squirming that left him feeling nauseous and hungry at the same time, with a lingering taste in his mouth. As if he had just eaten a part of Fluttershy. The attunement was definitely still an unpleasant experience. Spike opened his eyes to see Fluttershy still frozen in place with her hoof up and her eyes closed. “Uh, it’s done.” The mare relaxed, letting out the breath she had been holding throughout the entire process. She opened her eyes as well, in time to see Spike picking up a loose piece of paper from the cart he had towed in. “Let’s test it out, okay?” “Oh, um, sure. I… I won’t have to uh, burp it out, right?” “No. It’ll kind of just appear in front of your face once I send it.” With that, the young dragon spat out a spur of flame, engulfing the scrap of paper and disintegrating it in a plume of smoke and green sparks. The diminutive cloud quickly shot towards the pegasus, collecting mere inches before her cowering face before reforming as the piece of blank paper. It silently fell to the ground. “Cool, it worked.” The silence stretched on, Fluttershy inspecting her hoof with worry, searching for signs of damage. It was pristine and definitely unharmed. She eventually put it down, looking at Spike for a moment. “Um, can I go now? …I don’t like it here.” She said, the not-too-distant growls of the unicorn prisoners making her flinch occasionally. “Sure, I guess. I’ll be over in a minute.” As she turned to leave, Spike took a moment to lay his hand on the wall of Twilight’s cell, wishing once more that he could stay by her side. He then retrieved the book cart and followed the mare out of the holding facilities. 120 Spike lay on his side, in the darkness of the silent corridor, quietly peeking through the food slot of his oldest friend’s cell at the mare in question peacefully sleeping inside. He himself couldn’t sleep, as usual, and had come here to watch her and… reminisce, perhaps? He fought the memories as fiercely as he could, pushing them back as soon as they so much as tried to surface. Reminiscing may not have been the right word, in such a context. Still, he observed the tranquil sleeping form of the unicorn, his mother-like, sister-like best friend. She had been the one single constant in his life for so long, and was now mainly the source of more chaos and heartbreak than he had ever felt. And he would leave her, perhaps never to return. “I love you Twilight.” His whisper, choked by the burgeoning tears, was no louder than the unicorn’s breathing. At the far end of the corridor, a lone figure turned away and quietly headed back upstairs.