//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: Bad Future Crusaders // by TonicPlotter //------------------------------//         Silver Spoon felt absolutely sick to her stomach. The tunnel she slithered down was barely wide enough to accommodate her frame, and consisted of wet clay that slurped and sucked at her sides as she pulled herself through it. She felt like she was being pushed down the gullet of some horrible massive monster that had been dead long enough to make its innards cool and smell repugnant. Silver Spoon held her breath as best as she could, only taking in small puffs of air as sporadically as possible half out of fear of suffocation, and half to keep the foul odor out of her lungs.         Almost wish I do get caught for this. I deserve notoriety for enduring this.         The tunnel continued on seemingly into infinity, greedily swallowing her deeper and deeper into the bowels of Canterlot and Silver Spoon could only pray she was getting close. She had a vague idea of how close she was to the palace before she entered the tunnel, but by now it was like the pitch-black maw had devoured her concept of time and distance along with her. She had no clue if the tunnel was even straight, of how big these ‘long and forgotten’ caves were, which left her with absolutely no idea how long she would have to endure this. Her hoof slipped and her face fell directly into the cold wet clay, and her loud curse was consumed by the walls of the tunnel that seemed to grow tighter with each passing second. She stared at the imprint she had left in the clay, realizing she could somehow see the vague mold of her face in it, and looked ahead. From what appeared to be a gentle bend was a faint ray of light trickling into the tunnel.         About. Time.         She fought her way to the end to find rotten wood between her and freedom from the awful gullet she had spent too long squirming through. She gave it a solid punch with the sole of her hoof and managed to buckle it a good two inches despite the lack of room to rear up a proper strike. Twice and thrice she hit it, and on the fourth it collapsed and released a flood of dull blue light over her that seemed to cleanse her. She crawled out into freedom and took a quick glance at the barricade: it had been very carefully covered up and disguised to keep anypony from realizing there was a tunnel there.         An odd thing to do in a ‘long and forgotten’ cave.         After giving the crumpled barricade one final kick for good measure, she turned to have a look at this alleged shortcut into the palace and her jaw fell. She had expected a dilapidated tunnel, or perhaps an old waterway or underground river that fed one of the countless waterfalls that flowed from the lower parts of Canterlot and down into the valley below. Instead she found herself in a massive yawning cavern with numerous sprawling tunnels that travelled every which way and into the darkness that lingered in the distance. The area she was in was bathed in blue shimmering light reflected from some unseen source by the solid crystal that lined the walls that appeared to dance with faint flickers of white and purple as she turned her head and caught the glow from different angles. Looking straight up she couldn’t even see the ceiling; it was lost into darkness that lingered high above like black smoke.         For the first time in her life Silver Spoon was speechless. All she could muster was a genuinely astonished whistle which was thrown all around her by the towering cave walls before returning in an almost haunting echo. It wasn’t real; it was something out of a Daring Do novel. She half-heartedly expected to see torches burning in sconces on the walls, but at this point would not be at all surprised to encounter a pit of snakes or to find the crown on a pedestal and be chased by a massive rolling boulder for taking it.         Alright. Enough apprehension. You’re up to your withers in danger so get in and get out.         Silver Spoon flipped through her journal, rifling past old photos and notes until she came across the cloaked freak’s map. It was crudely and vaguely drawn to the point of being incomprehensible, with a single line marked ‘route’ leading to a crosshatched line labeled ‘M.C.T.’ She took a few steps and looked for the route to take, making no effort to keep quiet. Her hooves clacked loudly on the crystalline floor, making a sound reminiscent of pool balls ricocheting off of each other, and echoed loudly through the cavern. Nopony would ever hear her this deep underground especially with the acoustics of the cave reverberating her hoofsteps. Despite the size of the cave she quickly spotted an obvious route: the decayed ruins of what was probably a mine cart track that followed a tunnel that gently curved upward.         Pay dirt.         She jogged lightly up the tunnel, almost slipping twice on the slick glass-like crystal, and slowed to a stop after the second near-slip to marvel once more at the underground world she had discovered. She kicked the wall to dislodge a particularly bright red gem and pocketed it, knowing it would be a nice bonus to supplement the fortune the freak was going to give her, and briefly considered just ditching the job and instead making off with as many of these clearly valuable crystals as she could carry. The thought was quickly shrugged away; she knew nopony would simply abandon and forget a goldmine like this without a good reason.         Probably worthless. Or toxic. Or both, knowing my luck. All the more reason to hurry up and get this over with.         The tunnel coiled around and opened up into another oversized cavern like before, and Silver Spoon found herself with nowhere else to go. The tracks that led her up the tunnel ran clear off of a sheer drop and spiraled down into the blackness of a deep chasm, and there was no way she was attempting to descend it. Other than the tunnel she had just come from, the rest of the subterranean gallery she had found herself in seemed to have no exit. Walls of solid, window-like sheets of crystal reached upward and held up a grand ceiling of stalactites that hung down over her. The area was quite uneven, with almost unnatural cavities dug out of the crystalline floor and with large piles of shattered gems stacked into neat and very intentional piles.         And that smell…         She curled her nose up; she could smell something she didn’t like. It was a faint acrid odor in the air; an almost medicinal scent that lingered as if it belonged but was definitely not natural. Nothing in these caverns seemed ordinary, but this area was setting off alarm bells in her that told her to turn tail and run. That’s when it came, an echoing metronome that could only be the sound of hooves clapping slowly.         “I have to admit. I am genuinely impressed that somepony found their way into these caves.” Said a taunting but cheerful voice from all directions that followed the ominous clap.         Silver Spoon dropped low and twitched head around quickly in an unsuccessful attempt to locate the speaker. “Show yourself!” She yelled back in desperation, forcing her voice to sound confident to hide her unease.         “Who might you be?” Said the ponyless voice, sounding sterner than it had before, “Could that be what is left of Silver Spoon buried under those rags and that reprehensible mane?”         “Come out from behind the curtain and find out.” Said Silver Spoon, making every effort to keep her anger from getting the better of her. She knew better than to fall victim to this taunting; she could very well be in deep trouble and had to keep her composure until she knew what she was up against. Movement caught her eye and she looked: a ways above her on a small ledge stood a unicorn mare. The pony was pale violet, nearly matching the coloring of the surrounding crystals, with an almost golden mane that had been side swept over the left of her face and obscured a large round eye patch. Most of her body was covered in elegant clothing, all boasting the red-gray-black color scheme that Equestria had long-since adopted as it’s royal colors, and a number of scars only partially veiled by her clothing veined up and down her limbs and flank. On top of all this was the very regalia that Silver Spoon had been hired to steal. The crown.         Princess.         “You are quite famous lately. The real you, though, is no match for the legend if you will forgive my rudeness.”         Silver Spoon forced a chuckle. “Big talk for a pony that doesn’t even know me.”         The princess laughed warmly. “Oh, but I do. I still remember when you were Diamond Tiara’s little fawner. I remember the time I was one of the few ponies to attend your cute-ceañera because my mom forced me to.”         Silver Spoon tossed that thought around for a moment, and all of a sudden felt like she had been hit by a wall. Faded memories of a foalhood past came to her, filling her mind with images of that filly. The one that was always smiling and had that infamous nutbag for a mother. Silver Spoon rejected the idea that the princess, the one that had been mentored by the Queen and personally led the army that razed the Crystal Empire to the ground, was that pony. “Dinky Doo is the princess? I suffocated in that tunnel, didn’t I?”         The pony that claimed to be the now-grown daughter of Ponyville’s daffy old mail carrier curtseyed elegantly with a warm smile on her face.         Silver Spoon stood in near awe of the pony before her, juggling acceptance and denial that Dinky Doo was the princess she had been afraid of running into, before a cruel smile came onto her face. “You look like somepony took a cheese grater to you.” She said in a heckling tone. “What happened? Running with scissors? Lose a fight with a desk fan? Cut yourself shaving?”         Dinky’s demeanor didn’t change. Her pleasant smile widened just enough for her teeth to peek down from her lip. “Something like that.” She said with a quiet giggle. “It’s a rough road to the top, you know. No, I suppose you wouldn’t know.” She jumped blindly down in Silver Spoon’s direction, falling for what must have been close to thirty feet, before her horn glowed and slowed her descent into the gentle landing of a feather onto the spiraling mine cart track that vanished into the chasm. Fearlessly standing in the center of the abyss, she ran her hoof through her mane and smiled once more.         “Get yourself a tightrope and a clown nose, and you’ll be set for life. That’s a cute trick.”         “I am set for life, thank you very much. And I have had lots of practice. You would not believe how much time I spend down here practicing my spells. It’s the crystals; I love crystals. Their molecular arrangement makes them so… responsive… to magic.”         Her horn began to glow with a purple hue and one of the loose crystals rose upward and hung in the air before Silver Spoon’s face. It vibrated and glowed with an angry mauve, and burst in a small blast that blew Silver Spoon’s hood off of her head and overwhelmed her with that same acrid stench from before. She glared at Dinky for a moment, and pulled her hood back up.         “I found this place not long after my coronation,” Dinky continued, “and it became my little sanctuary from the pressures of everyday life. I have done everything in my power to preserve it as such…” her voice trailed off, becoming low and almost guttural with barely suppressed anger, “…so you’ll understand that it greatly irritates me that you decided it would be a convenient shortcut. I am not stupid; I know exactly why you are here. You are so full of yourself you honestly thought you could rob my palace.”         “Oh it’s your palace now? I thought you just cleaned the restrooms.”         Her voice was pleasant once more. “Funny mare.”         “Thanks. I’m here all week.”         “I hate to rain on your parade, but you will be lucky to see the dawn. You enter my sanctuary uninvited, and then have the sheer audacity to talk back to me. And yet, that thought gives me pause.”         “Ah. I had that once. There’s a special cream for it; fixes it up in less than a week. You might want to try washing down there more often.”         Dinky Doo’s lone eyebrow rose up; she was clearly unimpressed. “There are very few ponies that know of these caves, let alone of any way to enter them. Allow me to be blunt: You are not smart enough to find your way into these caves, and you are not stupid enough to try something like this on a whim. You had help getting in here. A little puppet master out there pulling your strings and making a very successful attempt at irking me. I want a name.”         “Yeah, alright.” Said Silver Spoon in a voice that dripped with sarcasm. “Said his name was Mark Mane. He’s stuck writing a book and needed a good setting for the Mysterious Stranger to reveal himself to Seppi.”         The very moment Silver Spoon finished speaking, Dinky was gone. She had moved like a ghost; vanishing silently like a blink. Before Silver Spoon could even move a silk-laden hoof rested gently on her shoulder and held her to the ground with an unexpected bolt of fear. “Please do not be like that.” Whispered a voice so close to her neck she could feel its breath. “Just tell me. For old time’s sake.”         Discomfort broke Silver Spoon’s composure and took control: she pulled free from the warm covered hoof with a loud shudder and drew a knife. In the time it took for her to turn around, Dinky was a good twenty feet away and standing casually with a smile.         “Somepony is playing games with us.” She said calmly. “If you tell me who, the revelation might just be so shocking that it would make me turn my back to ponder such things.” She turned around and looked up at the stalactite ceiling, “You just might have enough time to slip out the way you came and slink back into the gutter where you belong. Now, who told you?”         “John Swaybeck.”         “Make no mistake. Somepony is going to die for this. Slowly. Painfully. And it will be you, if you do not tell me exactly what I want to know. Last chance. Who sent you in here?”         “Your mother.”         An angry flicker sputtered from Dinky’s horn with a sound not unlike crumpling paper. “We may have had a passing relationship as foals, but do not for one second think I am a pony you can take lightly.”         Silver Spoon broke down into mocking laughter. “I’m not afraid of some pampered pansy of a princess. Here I was the entire trip down here worrying that I’d run into this infamous princess. I was actually scared of running into her. And then I do, and it’s just…” she interrupted herself to spit on the ground. “Dinky. Doo.”         Dinky ran her hoof through her mane once more with a heavy sigh. “Please do not say I did not try to be nice.”         Silver Spoon abruptly retched and gagged, and was wrenched violently off of the ground. She pawed frantically at her throat trying to rip free from the unseen force that dangled her in the air and held her windpipe shut, but there was nothing to grab onto.         “It did not have to end like this, but no matter. I would say it was nice knowing you, but quite frankly that would be a lie, which is wrong. Good-bye, Silver Spoon, and be a peach and say ‘hello’ to Diamond Tiara for me.”         Panic set in as Silver Spoon struggled fruitlessly against it, and she felt herself becoming lightheaded. She fought back the spots of black that danced in her vision, and with the last of her strength she lunged blindly at the voice with her knife—         —And she hit the ground after feeling the knife cut something with a coarse ripping sound. Gasping and heaving to fill her lungs she threw herself to her hooves, collapsed back to the ground, and was on her hooves again and running with all her might for cover. The princess, the one that had come so close to killing her, was screaming in panicked anger and covering her face where her eye patch had been.         “You sordid little dogger!!!”         Silver Spoon turned and threw her knife at the voice, which stopped abruptly and floated mere inches in front of the princess’ face. She had reacted and caught it mid-throw and she wasn’t even looking; she was busy tying her eye patch, the only thing Silver Spoon had managed to cut, back around her face.         Not good NOT GOOD.         She dove behind one of the piles of crystals and crawled as low and quickly as she could. Silver Spoon did not have an intimate understanding of magic, but she had fought with unicorns before. It was rare that a normal unicorn could even lift a full grown pony with magic alone, and even then it wasn’t difficult to break free. This unicorn, this thing, was an entirely different matter: The princess was more than capable of dangling her helplessly in the air and tearing her limb from limb if given the chance.         And I ticked her off. BIG TIME.         A loud blast roared with light that brightened the entire cavern, and the shattered remains of one of the crystal piles rained down. What followed was a haunting uneven cackle, like hooves on a noisy typewriter. “What’s wrong?! You know, I normally would never begrudge a pony for backing down from a fight. But after you made such a deliberate attempt to start one? Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! You asked for a fight, so come out and get one you will never forget for as long as you live!” Another loud blast silenced the princess for a moment and created another downpour of crystal shards, “However long that may be, mind you.”         Silver Spoon was too smart to fall for her obvious bait. She had to keep out of sight to keep from being grabbed by her magic, and had to keep the princess talking while she stuck to the shadows and escaped.         “Tell me!” echoed the princess’ voice. “Are you scared of running into me yet, or is this all in good fun? How did you know I have a weakness for hide and seek?”         Another pile of crystals erupted with a thundering echo, and Silver Spoon was hit with the realization that her escape was across the room and she was running out of cover. Still breathing heavily she rummaged through her gear, praying she had brought something that could cover her escape. Knives were no good; the princess’ reflexes were too acute. Piano wire, useless. Chloroform, yeah right. Then she found it: something that might work. It was a small vial, holding a nice little mix of oxidants and oxidizers separated from the right reagent with a thin piece of glass.         She had learned to make them years ago; throw it hard enough to crack the glass within and it makes a violently bright flash. The explosion of another pile of crystals cut of her train of thought, and Silver Spoon heard the soft sound of the princess’ covered hooves stepping on the crystalline floor and drawing uncomfortably close.         Screw escape. I’m dead no matter what I do; I’m taking that blasted crown and getting the credit for doing it!         She waited, listening to her own heart beat and the ominous sound of silk hooves moving closer. She waited, waited, until she couldn’t hold herself back and lunged out into the open. “Hey Dinky!!!” she screamed as she threw the bottle at a nearby pile of crystals, sending it ricocheting directly at the princess’s head.         FOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!         Silver Spoon shielded her eyes just in time, hoping, praying that it worked as she hoped. She expected to feel her windpipe pinch once more and braced, but instead heard the most satisfying sound she had ever experienced. Her eyes snapped open and the princess was roaring with pain and confusion, staggering unevenly with her hoof mashed against her good eye. Random fragments of crystals and stones were flying every which way at the whim of her magic, either from her attempts to balance or to blindly find the source of her agony. It was now or never: Silver Spoon ran at the princess and pounced onto her back, grasping her in a tight headlock.         “You are dead!!!” spat the princess in a blind rage, “There is nothing you can do to salvage your worthless life, do you hear me?! I’ll—”         Silver Spoon bit down on the princess’ horn, turning her threat into an agonized scream and rendering her magic useless. “Don’t bad-mouth Diamond Tiara!” she growled between her clenched teeth as she tightened her grip around the princess’ neck. “You like choking ponies?! How do you like it?! Huh?!”         The princess bucked and weaved in a failed attempt to shake Silver Spoon off of her back. She managed one final gurgling growl of pure malice and then crumpled under the weight. With a dull thud she fell to the ground unconscious.         Silver Spoon stood weakly, trembling from the adrenaline rush and the grim understanding that her victory was hollow. She was well aware that the princess was right. She was already dead. She had no other options; all she could do was pluck that stupid hunk of gold off of the royal heap on the ground and run for dear life. As she sprinted for freedom she told herself that she would pull through like always, that they would never track her down, and that she had been in worse trouble before.         She was not convinced.