//------------------------------// // The Secret // Story: Duskfall // by Celestial Swordsman //------------------------------// Chapter 10 A subliminal insistence roused Dusk from a fitful sleep. She raised her head and looked instinctively to the arc of sky that stood framed by the tarp at the back of the wagon. A ribbon of green vapor was pooling into a neat orb just inside the enclosure. It disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a small piece of parchment. She blinked and shook her head. “A message for me? How could this happen?” she thought anxiously. She wished she had been awake to see what direction it had come from. Her heart beat faster as she reached out and gingerly touched it, to angle it toward her. It read only: “Come back.” Dusk debated her response for a moment. In rising frustration, she narrowed her eyes at the paper. Her face took on an almost imperceptible radiance. She gritted her teeth and concentrated harder. A bright flicker on her forehead triggered an answering flicker on the parchment. A small flame stood up off the paper, and grew steadily until the message was reduced to ashes. As both lights died down, she rubbed the spot on her forehead and whispered, “What Trixie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Probably.” She cast a sideways glance to where Trixie lay behind her. She gasped; the unicorn was staring with wide open, violet eyes. Dusk turned away reflexively and hid her face behind a corner of the gray blanket she rested on. She almost held her breath as she waited for Trixie to say something. After receiving only a tense silence, she looked back to the blue one. Dusk met her vacuous stare until Trixie gave a small snore; the traveling magician had learned how to sleep with her eyes open. Dusk calmed a little and was able to focus on the implications of the message. “They’re trying to find me,” she mused. “It’s a good thing Derpy didn’t go back to her house.” Carrying this train of thought down the line to Trixie, she realized, “Trixie should be watching me. I’m putting her in danger too.” She thought about all the ponies that were in danger and dying. “Why am I still here? How did I let hunger and a bad cough keep me from doing what I need to do already?” Regret began to pile up into a panic. If she wasn’t guilty enough already, her negligence was doing more damage every minute. She took a deep breath. “No sense doing this in crazy mode.” Dusk rose and approached the sleeper. She needed to know something before she left. Trixie’s somnolent stare was fixed on the bottle of hard cider by her hat on the nightstand. Dusk put her hoof out to reach for the liquor. As she touched it, Trixie growled, “No.” Dusk quickly withdrew her hoof and waited. Trixie didn’t move or make another sound. Dusk picked up the cider and put it down, urging, “Wake up.” Trixie raised her head and snatched the bottle, holding it to her chest defensively. Peering over the bags in her eyes, she gave the intruder a surly look. Before the groggy unicorn could find words to protest, Dusk asked, “Where are the guns?” Tired and mildly hung over, Trixie stumbled to catch up to the question, “You little thief, don’t touch Trixie’s—guns?” She squinted in confusion and rambled, “Trixie doesn’t have guns. She wouldn’t give you any if she did. Why do you need guns?” “Not your guns,” Dusk clarified, “Where is the Ponyville battery? Crescent Fastness? Luna’s long guns?” Trixie was speechless at being assaulted with such inane questions. She heaved herself up and across the wagon and yanked back one end of the purple covering. “Did you check the giant castle thing with the glowing moon banners?!” she quipped incredulously. Sure enough, off the other side of the hill from Ponyville stood a massive stone and concrete fortification. Looking slightly down on the sprawling complex, they could make out its eponymous shape. It was not a thematic indulgence; the castle-battery guarded the whole stretch of sky known as the Ponyville corridor, framed by mountain ranges to the north and south. The guns were spread in a near-semicircle so that the deadly weapons faced every mile of the mouth of this channel. “I, uh, hadn’t looked that way yet,” Dusk confessed sheepishly. “What is this about?” Trixie demanded. “I need to find out where Luna is,” the strange pegasus replied. “The Princess? Trixie already found her,” the unicorn boasted. “They usually have only three banners. Yesterday they added that big extra-shiny crescent. Somepony big is home.” “Excellent, I need to meet her,” Dusk blurted. “It’s really important, and the less you know the better for you.” “Oh really?” Trixie replied, unimpressed. She looked at Dusk who sat looking at the fortress. They continued sitting. Something had clearly stolen the early-riser’s eager energy. “Well if it’s so important, go on.” “Yeah,” Dusk moaned and looked down. “You’re still here. What gives?” Trixie questioned. Dusk sighed and admitted, “I’m scared. I’m not sure I can face her. What will they say? Will they kill me?” Trixie finally collected some concern and said, “Look here.” Dusk met her gaze with troubled black eyes. The unicorn studied her intensely, and lit up as she found what she was searching for. The performer donned her pointed cap and bluntly diagnosed, “So… you need this like Trixie needs the big stage, but you’re afraid of what ponies will think or do, so you’re just going to sit here and feel awful?” Dusk was surprised that Trixie could be so understanding, and let her guard down. She nodded sorrowfully. The magician hammered a hoof on the floor and declared, “That’s a shitty plan. You better get your sorry ass ready to meet your destiny.” Powered by internal frustrations, she leapt out onto the ground. “Follow Trixie—or does she have to drag you?” Dusk’s jaw hung open as she reeled from the outburst. “Trixie’s house, Trixie’s rules. You’re not going to waste your life in her wagon.” Dusk collected herself and obediently disembarked. “Let Trixie do you a favor and show you how we do things. No pony’s gonna give you what you want, you’ve gotta get out there and take it.” They started the hike to the NLR base down a path through light forest. Trixie set the pace and kept Dusk from reluctantly slowing down. “Come on, we’ll just get it over with.” “I’m thinking about what I should say,” Dusk excused. “If you came to Ponyville just to talk to her, you probably know what you need to say,” Trixie pointed out. “Yeah, I guess I do,” Dusk realized, “I guess I’m just worried about presentation.” “Mm-hm,” Trixie understood. “Will they let you see the top pony?” “Aw, shit,” the not-so-street-smart pegasus replied, “I didn’t think of that.” “In Trixie’s day, she could get you in, but now that she’s banished…” the performer almost offered. “If Trixie knows some pony in the camp she might be able to arrange something. If all else fails, she could put on a little show and draw some attention. She could draw attention to you or away from you, your pick, just don’t get yourself shot.” “Yeah, that’s a last resort,” Dusk agreed. Given a choice to try to enter from the front or the back of Crescent Fastness, they would have decided to come to the Lunar side. The front was particularly menacing, but given Trixie’s current status, they were obliged to approach there. As they drew closer they came upon a network of trenches, bunkers, and barricades that stretched out from either point of the crescent to prevent it from being flanked. The path left the new edge of the forest; the trees closer to the defenses were cut down to provide a clear line of fire on anyone nearby. The soldiers that occupied the positions paid little attention to the passers-by besides a few casual glances at the odd pair. They were busy moving supplies, cleaning their weapons, and resting. They came to the trench line next to the fortress itself to see if they could gain entry. A blond head with a wide-brimmed hat popped up out of the trench and called out, “Trixie? What are you doing here?” in a country drawl. “Oh, you know this pony?” Dusk piped up hopefully. Trixie whispered in her ear, “Yeah. Not good,” and loudly replied, “Hey, Applejack.” “That’s Major Applejack,” the major touted. “I’m surprised you came back to Ponyville, but if I heard right you got banished from everywhere else. I guess the rest of the world wouldn’t put up with your great and powerful schmocus either.” “How bad could it be?” Dusk tried to put Trixie at ease. “Ponyville bad,” Trixie replied under her breath. Applejack asked, “What are you up to this time?” “Just helping a friend,” the performer answered, and jabbed sarcastically, “Friendship is magic, isn’t it?” The major gave a deep scowl. “I bet you want me to let you in here, so you can bring some Solar goon with you again.” She eyed Dusk suspiciously. “That was not Trixie’s fault,” the storied traveler griped. “You’re already banished, anyway. To be particular, you’re on Republic soil right this very minute. You’d be in trouble if I didn’t have more important things to do,” the major half-threatened. Trixie turned to Dusk and stated, “You’re on your own.” The little gray pegasus gulped as the frustrated magician left her side and rested a short ways off. “Maybe it’s just as well,” Dusk thought. She trotted meekly up to the barbed wire, which stretched around the whole position a few feet from the trench. Applejack turned from hostile to curious with Trixie out of the equation. Dusk mustered an assertive attitude and stated plainly, “I need to speak with Princess Luna.” Applejack gave her a surprised and quizzical expression. “How do ya figure that?” “I know where Celestia is,” Dusk divulged. It was quite a claim, but at least it couldn’t be ignored. “Oh really?” the major reacted doubtfully. “And where might that be?” “I can’t tell you,” the little pony refused the question. “I’ll only tell Luna.” “That might be a problem,” Applejack warned. “We’ve had enough assassins. Not just any pony can talk to the Princess. How about ya tell me and I’ll tell her.” “I’ll only tell Luna,” Dusk repeated with finality. “Well if that’s the way it’s gonna be—“ she interrupted her own line of thought. A clever smile crossed her face. “Actually, there’s a way to settle this.” She climbed out of the trench and stood just behind the wire. “Come here.” Dusk didn’t know what to think of this new change of pace, but stepped up to the other side of the spiky barrier. “Ya know, in Canterlot, they have fancy gizmos that can tell if you’re lyin’.” Dusk muttered, “Yeah…” and wondered if she would have to go through another round of mind games. “Well they ain’t worth nothin’,” the major declared with conviction, and took a revolver out of her belt. “Why don’t you look Applejack in the eye and tell her if you’re an assassin?” “This is quaint,” the city pony thought, but realized she was nervous. “No, of course I’m not an assassin.” After staring deep into her eyes, Applejack conceded, “Alright,” and holstered her weapon. “Can’t be too careful.” She asked pleasantly, “What do you need to tell Luna?” “I know where Celestia is,” Dusk repeated. The major soured and spit on the ground. “Nope. It’s a damn lie. I don’t trust you.” “That’s not fair!” Dusk exclaimed, “All you did was look at me.” “I can tell when a pony’s honest,” Applejack avowed, “and I don’t trust you.” Dusk sat down and huffed in frustration. All this way, and she was stopped by quibbles over a half-truth. Her mind spun; could she get the major to reconsider without telling her too much? It didn’t seem likely. It also wasn’t plausible to give up at this point. Just then, she was astonished to catch sight of Luna herself. The Princess had been on a stone platform that stood in the middle of the Lunar camp between points of the crescent. She had been obscured from view by camouflage-netting screens, but now she stepped down into the open. The moonlight twinkled in her mane and tail as the royal blue-purple alicorn strode majestically towards the battery. Past the beauty of the night Princess, her silver armor bespoke a grim intent. Its style and outline were arranged carefully to avoid a similar appearance to that worn by Nightmare Moon, but parallels were inevitable. Several unicorns followed her off of the platform. The sun finally gave up its tenuous grip on the horizon and its orange light receded. The Princess and her magical entourage must have been holding it up, but now they moved on to other matters. Applejack also saw what was happening. “Uh oh. Imperial Army must be close.” She turned to Dusk and cautioned, “It’s not safe for you here,” before realizing in shock that she was talking to empty air. Dusk had seized on the distraction provided by the sudden nightfall. She jumped and beat her wings, clearing the barbed wire and an incensed Applejack. She scurried along trenches, dodged through a bunker, and flung herself to the ground in front of Luna. The Princess’s guards drew guns on the intruder and one unicorn shielded her highness with a shimmering wall of magic. They froze for tense seconds. Major Applejack caught up and wanted to drag Dusk away by the tail, but stopped to consider the Princess’s demeanor. Although a larger-than-life figure, the founding Premier of the Republic was not so large as her older sister; but beside her, Dusk seemed smaller than a filly. Luna took a deep breath and allowed compassion for the pitiful pegasus to overrule her busy thoughts. She wondered that this little pony would face such dangers to see her. She took on a glow as the moonlight collected around her gentler side. At her sign the magic barrier was dropped. “What is it, little one?” she said softly. Dusk was suddenly overwrought, less from the threatening weapons than from Luna’s presence. She moved her mouth but failed to make a sound. Luna leaned her head down close to the frightened pony, and commanded “Speak,” but with a soothing calm. Her starry blue mane rippled placidly between them. Dusk took in the courage the great one offered, and took a deep breath. In a voice just above a whisper, she pleaded, “Luna, little sis. It’s Celestia. I don’t know how, but it’s me, and I need you.” Luna flung her head back as a nighttime thunderstorm burst within the dark of her eyes. A flood of memory was unleashed by the unexpected utterance. Emotions visibly crashed against each other. The gentle light around her disappeared. A thousand years of bitterness, another thousand of wasted tenderness and longing, an age of a groaning nation, and a future of eternal loneliness pressed themselves on her heart. Her beautiful face twisted in anger and then went slack. In her deep royal voice, she let out a tremendous and trailing sigh. The exhalation almost blew “Dusk” away and swept off Applejack’s prized hat. Soldiers around the camp and up on the walls of the stronghold stood up, worried for their leader. Luna lowered her voice back to the normal range and rebuked, “You do not know what you are saying.” “But I do,” the little one weakly protested. “Did someone send her?” Luna asked firmly. Major Applejack reported, “Yeah, some no good trickster brought her here.” The Princess scolded Dusk, “You should leave her and all who lead you to foolish plans.” She declared to the guards, “They are not to enter my sight again.” Desperation overcoming her temerity, Dusk shouted, “No!” Applejack pounced to cover her mouth and roughly dragged her away. “Of course, your majesty, won’t happen again,” the major apologized. Dusk struggled and managed to yell, “Wait! Don’t go!” despite Applejack’s best efforts. Luna and her guards turned away and marched into the gate of the Fastness. The irate cowgirl shoved her inside the bunker and up against the earthen wall. “What the hell did you do to the Princess?” she demanded. “I told the truth,” Dusk retorted. Applejack’s eyes went wild. “Don’t you talk to me about truth,” she growled. “Why?” Dusk snapped, “Because honesty is your element?” “Who do you think you are?” the major fumed, pressing harder. “Who am I? I’m Celestia!” the grey pegasus ranted. “Well okay, you’re insane,” Applejack conceded and released her. “If you were Celestia I would have put a bullet in your brain already.” “Look.” The little freak brushed aside the start of her white mane to reveal a stubby protrusion of bone on her forehead. “I’m fucking an alicorn!” That didn’t come out right. “I don’t care who ya do, get outta my bunker!” Applejack finally commanded, forcing her back down the trench and bucking her over the barbed wire where she had come in. The misfit alicorn slowed her fall a little with her wings, but still came down hard. She picked herself up, took a few steps, and fell back down. “Get back up, ya faker,” Applejack snorted, “Scram.” The little lump out on the dirt in the moonlight only twitched and groaned. Trixie had lounged non-chalantly, but now approached the scene to see what was wrong. “Don’t you come any closer, shyster. Y’all have done enough damage, get outta here.” Trixie’s temper rose, but she didn’t know what was going on, so she stopped. When Dusk began coughing violently, Trixie pressed on, feeling at least slightly responsible. “Hey, stop,” the major challenged. “What are you gonna do, shoot Trixie?” the brash unicorn dared and cocked her eyebrow provocatively. “Fine! Just get her outta here,” Applejack relented. Trixie gently levitated her partner-in-exile and brought her back to the start of the forest path. The unicorn set Dusk down but kept her horn aglow to see what was wrong. The stricken alicorn let out more grating and un-equestrian coughs before spitting up a mouthful of damp ash. All the washed-up entertainer could do was hold her until she recovered. An orange flicker from Dusk’s foreleg caught Trixie’s attention. What looked like an ember emerged on the surface of the skin. “Shit!” Trixie reeled in surprise. She gave it a couple quick spits before it sizzled and extinguished. At last Dusk pulled through and whimpered her thanks to Trixie. The experienced outcast asked, “What did they do to you?” “Not too much,” Dusk mumbled, “This happened to me once before. I must have some kind of condition.” “Trixie’s sorry if she made you do something crazy,” the performer gave a rare apology. Dusk shook her head. “No, I had to. I had to try, but now I’ve failed every pony.” “You’re as good at getting kicked out as Trixie,” Trixie lamented. She pulled something out from under her cloak. It was a flask of cider. “Drink up. You need it more than Trixie.” Dusk took it gratefully. Trixie squinted at the eastern horizon and warned, “There’s a storm coming. We better leave this place.” Dusk slumped over in despair, muttered, “We’re all toast,” and guzzled the intoxicating juice.