Inside a very, very dark place, full of dust and scattered metal furnishings, a light scuffling could be heard. This scuffling turned into a rhythmic knocking sound, until a panel was discovered on the outside. Steambolts latched and unlatched. A dial turned, clicked into place, and sank into an echoing metal sheath within the building’s framework. Immediately afterwards, crystal stones glowed to life, shining dull beacons on an atrium covered in fine sediment.
Then, running vertically from the ceiling to the grand floor, a thin sliver of light pierced the darkness, expanding, widening. It was a pair of doors, groaning as they widened and widened to a sunlit marshland outside. Trees swayed in the wind as two figures trotted through the opening passage, one tiny and the other adult.
Nightshade trotted into the center of the room, squinting as the light from the widening doors illuminated shelves full of steam machinery parts, rows upon rows of crystal mana conduits, and--at last--a complex energy console on the far end of the place, laced with spiderwebs. As the doors grinded to a halt, the mana coursing through the building from Nightshade’s password entry finally spread to the communication array, causing the thing to hum to live with the twirl of twin fans. Dust rose, then settled, causing a translucent haze to float about the abandoned place.
“It’s good to know that everything is in one piece, at least.” Nightshade muttered as she shuffled forward. “For a while there, I was concerned that some miscreants had attempted to break into this place and pilfer all the valuables. Thankfully, my security system was money well spent, though I can’t imagine a sky pirate desperate enough to search the foliage for a remote building such as this.”
Kera could barely pay attention. Her robes had become tattered, threadbare things at this point, and the tome hanging against her side weighed a ton. She trotted up a series of low steps and utterly collapsed onto a platform. A cloud of dust flew from her figure as she slumped down, panting, fighting the veil of sleep.
Nightshade turned and gazed calmly at her. “You can get some shuteye, child. There’s no shame in being tired.”
Instantly, Kera frowned. She crawled forward and pulled herself into a sitting position against a bass railing along the platform. “I’m fine.”
The mare’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been trotting through swamplands for two days straight. It would be unnatural to not need rest--”
“Like I’m gonna close my eyes shut around you!” Kera finally growled.
“Oh, please. I think we both know that I stand a far greater risk of having my throat slit in the middle of the night than you. Your telekinesis gives you an edge in any circumstance. We both know that.”
“We also both know you’re full of grasshopper poop!”
“Then why didn’t you take your anger and distrust out on me when you had the opportunity?” Nightshade gestured as she spoke. “I’ve slept at least three times since we joined each other’s side.”
Kera clamped her mouth shut. She shivered, saying nothing.
“Hmmph…” Nightshade turned and trotted up to the communications array. “It’s just as I thought. Even though you’re not willing to admit it, you need me just as much as I need you.”
“I could ditch you in a second, lady!” Kera spat. “Don’t try and sound so smug!”
Nightshade paused in operating the array. She turned and raised an eyebrow at the distant foal. “Then perhaps you would desire to contact your friends in the air?”
Kera opened her mouth, but hesitated.
“Do you even know how to, child?”
Kera sighed heavily through her nostrils. “Y’know, just because I don’t know how to do something doesn’t mean I have to owe you diddly squat!”
“And yet, I’m providing us means of escape from this humid purgatory,” Nightshade said while hijacking a frequency and sending a coded message out. “If you’d rather make allies with the mosquitoes, then be my guest.”
Kera stood up weakly but regained her balance in time to hiss, “Just who are you contacting, anyways?! It’d better not be the enforcers!”
“Don’t be silly,” Nightshade retorted. “The last thing I want to do is call in the same stallions who had me locked up for weeks on end, rotting away in that horrible hellhole in the sky.” She sighed heavily, her eyes staring out a thousand miles beyond the console directly in front of her. “I’d want nothing to do with the ponies who stripped me of my resources, threatened my brother, and further spun this world into despair.” She gulped, shook her head, and said, “No. I have friends to the east, situated near the front. They should get the both of us further away from Ledomaritan Territory, and from there we can go about salvaging this situation.”
“Screw your situation! I wanna get back to Bellesmith and Rainbow Dash!”
“But of course you do,” Nightshade droned. “And I shall facilitate that. But first thing’s first--we are useless here on the ground. My friends have been charged with awaiting a signal that only I can send, and once they receive it, they’ll give us the means to contact anyone by air, including your so-called friends.” She pivoted around from the buzzing array. “Though why you would want to associate with them is beyond my understanding.”
“Face it, all you care about is your stupid business!” Kera grunted.
Nightshade calmly shook her head. “All I want is the proper salvation of this world, dear.”
“Through what? Capturing innocent little foals?”
“No…” Nightshade trotted slowly towards her. “And you would do well not to insult the family I had established in Blue Nova.”
“Well, your ‘family’ were way happier off with their Moms and Dads from Deep Ridge!”
“A triviality,” Nightshade stated. “As soon as they realize all of the luxuries, resources, and knowledge that they’ve been deprived of, they’ll regret ever having given into Dr. Bellesmith’s deception.”
“Heh…” Kera smirked. “Fat chance.”
“Tell me…” Nightshade knelt on the other side of the railing, looking up at the filly atop the platform. The shiny brass bars reflected her face in three fragmented places. “Where will your friends take you?”
“To some place far away from here!” Kera’s voice cracked. “Where there’s no Queen Ledo, no military, and no stuffy spinsters wanting to chop my horn off!”
Nightshade’s eyes narrowed. “And where would this place be, by chance?”
“I dunno. East of here!”
“How far east?” Nightshade leaned her head to the side, her eyes constantly trained on the foal. “Past how many rivers? Oceans? Deserts? Battlegrounds? To what extent will your new ‘family’ have to bribe, fight, maim, or kill to get to a place that they can deem as ‘safe?’”
Kera’s brow furrowed as she briefly avoided Nightshade’s gaze. “I… I…” She gulped. “That’s not up to me.”
“Blind trust is the surest way to self-destruction,” Nightshade said. “Your friends are vagabonds, child. They live off of luck and happenstance, and at some point that is going to run out. And just how loyal do you think they will be to you then?”
“They love me…” Kera frowned, glaring back at the mare. “Pilate and Belle. They love me.”
“A love based on convenience is a hollow thing,” Nightshade said. “I’m not entirely ignorant of how my empire crumbled, child. You were an elemental part in stealing the flame from my Tower, were you not?”
Kera fidgeted, keeping the weight of the book close to her. “Yeah, well…”
“And abducting my children? And helping Doctor Bellesmith locate Deep Ridge?” Kera stood back from the railings. “You were an instrument of their agenda. And for several weeks, you’ve helped supply them with what they needed to make their trip as far as they have. But now that you’re gone, do you think they will actually… truly spend the resources needed to bring you back into their fold? Especially now after so much progress has been done?”
“They… they need me!” Kera exclaimed with a bright expression. “I can be useful to them!”
“In what way? Do you power up their ship? Do you provide them with navigation?”
“I… I…”
“I’m a businesspony above all else, and I know a thing or two about having to cut losses. Now, I have it within my power to salvage the mission I set into motion years ago, but to do it… I will have to make sacrifices.” She lingered, her lip quivering for a moment. Clearing her throat, Nightshade stood up straight and said, “Novus is the last link I have to family, and yet I cannot afford to go back for him, not until my work is done. I can fool myself into believing that he is alive and well, and that he will remain so throughout the course of my endeavors, but that is a blatant lie. He’s quite likely dead as we speak, but that cannot stop me from doing what is most important.”
“Just what’s so special that you gotta ditch your own flesh and blood?”
“The eternal livelihood of my flesh and blood,” Nightshade replied. “If I do not do something to stop this war, if I do not activate the power of the machine world, then this war will go on and on, consuming the entire future of this continent. This cannot be.”
“And just how do you expect to do anything about it now?” Kera squinted. “You’ve lost everything.”
“Not quite.” Nightshade trotted back towards the communications array. “I have a backup plan.”
“Oh do you?”
“Yes…” She nodded without looking back. “Which is something I seriously doubt your so-called ‘friends’ possess. You know, you can still join my side. I am not beyond forgiveness, and even if I don’t succeed, I can find allies in remote places who can keep you safe and secure. It’s only because I stand to make such slight deviations to my plan, which is the least I can say about your companions.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I do believe they’ve already cut their losses; they’ve cut off you.”
“They won’t stop for nothing until they find me!” Kera stammered.
“Then why haven’t they yet?”
“Because… Because…” Kera slumped back on her hooves, hugging her robes to herself. She merely bit her lip.
Nightshade sighed, tweaking with the controls again. “I do reiterate what I said earlier. You should get some sleep. If not for your body’s sake, then at least for your spirit. I do suspect it will suffer quite a severe blow once it finally wakes up…”
As the mare typed away at the apparatus, Kera stifled a whimper. She snuck a peek under her robe, squinting into the lavender glow of the book. The flame was bright and strong… but suddenly it did not warm her.