The Life and Times of Caughlin Mare

by Casca


17: Enter The Hunt

As with any large organization, the Order's needs were many. Even though it was for only eight days, Caughlin was spoilt for choice for potential projects begging for more draftsponies and designers: piping systems, agricultural spells, even bedding production. She had been sedentary long enough, but returning to work - especially work where she wasn't the head of the team - was as much of a shock as she hadn't expected. This wasn't the R&D - this was limited budget, cramped work spaces - and coming from her, a captive underground all her life, that was saying something - griping about aforementioned budget and spaces. Her new colleagues were jaded and old, and whatever enthusiasm they once had was absent. Hours went by scribbling on wide sheets, sharpening pencils, asking for suggestions and getting grunts in reply. There was no love, though it was science, and it occured to Caughlin one day that this was work.

Not all ponies are lucky enough to find the one true thing they're meant to do...

It wasn't terrible, of course. This wasn't the R&D. There was no Discord, soon would be no Discord, and the work she was doing was undoubtedly important. The systems at work in the refugee camps were rudimentary at best, and it seemed that magitechnicians were not as plentiful as they seemed during the alicorn development days. Some didn't even know how runes worked.

These are the ponies that need the most help, Caughlin had repeated to herself. That's why you're here.

But why isn't anypony else?

Her old colleagues had been reintegrated into the upper echelons of the Order's Department of Development very early on, she realized - snapped up, at it were, to work on infrastructure and power supply. Still important, of course, but much more glamorous than freshwater delivery -

No, no. Stop it.

She sighed and returned to the task at hoof - drawing up a rune set that acted as a pressure control. The completed set would be stenciled on to a sticker, and that sticker would be placed on whichever point that required it, functioning as a valve. As with all rune sets, it was triggered by unicorn magic, and Caughlin was going for a design that was easy to use - left rune for tight, and right rune for loose, with a bunch of complicated crossings in the middle to make it work. What she was unsure of her trusty guidebook supplied, and she was pretty sure that she spent as much time skimming through the pages as she did actually drawing - her memory was not the best lately.

"Um..." she started, waving a hoof at the pale yellow stallion on the left.

"Tracker," replied the stallion, in a tone that was amazingly neutral.

"Sorry," said Caughlin, smiling a bit. "Just wanted to ask if the surface of the valve would be large enough to hold these."

She knew the answer to that - it was, else she would've broken the set into two a long time ago. But conversation was vital to foster team relationships, and even if it was temporary, she wanted to help the team gel as well.

Tracker glanced at the runes. "I haven't the slightest clue."

"Ah," replied Caughlin. "Thanks anyways."

She looked at the other pony in the room - a dark blue stallion named Tassel Lock - who was chewing absent-mindedly on his pencil as he stared at the flow diagram of the pipes running through the west field of the refugee camp. He was the head of the team, which meant he did the most talking and the least writing. "Leave asking for the budget to me" was his mantra, and her biggest bane. What good was a system if he couldn't win the wages for its operators?

If only... She tried to stop the words before they formed. If only I still had my magic.

Would that have changed anything? Perhaps. Perhaps she'd have more influencing power, be more of an inspiration. Carry the team, and all. Or perhaps she would have been snapped up by other, more enthusiastic team leaders, who actually wanted to see their work come to fruition -

Nothing good ever came out of that path of thought, but neither did anything bad. So she drifted down it, and found Celestia there. It was the only time she could find her. How long had it been since they had last spoken? "Be a mother to them" indeed...

It's not that you haven't tried, Caughlin told herself. You did make an effort to go down and look for her. She was just... too busy, and it looks like she will always be.

It was odd, now that she thought of it. She had never had to wait to spend time with Celestia, though then again they had spent a good chunk of their lives less than a hundred metres away from each other. The idea of her foal being too occupied to talk with her was unsavoury, and it was becoming a problem. It distracted her, and the worst part was that she had no idea where to start. In a rare turn of mood, Caughlin had decided to simply ignore it. Maybe it was just a matter of bad coincidence.

I'll go and check on her again after my shift. Maybe I can catch her for lunch together this time.

Caughlin looked up across the worktables. She remembered when she visited the R&D, whose office was three times larger than the room she was in now. Amidst the rest of the ponies, Luna, who towered readily above them, had been scribbling something, body crouching over the low table uncomfortably, hooves on the surface even though she was using her magic.

She had time to visit, thank heavens - while the older alicorn attended training sessions too, they were nowhere as frequent nor long as Celestia's. She had initially spent her free time roaming the area called "Central", but the scrutinizing looks and hushed whispers behind her back grew unbearable. She had also spent a short while helping out in the refugee camps, distributing things and testing the healing aspects of alicorn magic on those desperate for a quick fix. Thankfully, nopony had left for the worse, but the Order administration had asked her to cease in case of side effects. Caughlin suspected it was more than that, but she could not say she wasn't glad Luna was around.

At least there's a foal of mine who isn't too caught up in work to spend time with me, she sniffed, more bitterly than she expected. No, no. It isn't like that. Celestia's just determined, disciplined, lost in the moment, even. It's not like she doesn't want you or anything, not like that at all. She's just... busy. Hard at work.

Caughlin stifled a yawn, dropping the pencil that she had been holding, and caught Tracker staring.

"Can I help you?" she asked, keeping the impulsive terseness out of her voice.

"No," replied Tracker, looking away.

She picked up the pencil again, careful to keep herself from frowning visibly as she went back to where she had left off. She could have sworn that she had drawn the secondary links up right, but the lines did not match up. No matter. Nothing a little erasing could not fix.

"Could you pass me the eraser, please?"

It arrived without so much as a nod. Caughlin was about to say her thanks when her lips pursed together, and she gave him a nod instead.

A few more tries later, she managed to finish it off. She let herself relax. Gently, she dusted off the eraser bits and gave it a final glance before handing it to Tassel Lock. He looked at it and nodded happily.

"Great work, Caughlin. Looks good. I'll submit this first thing come the team leader's meeting. Just leave the budgeting for this to me."


"Oh, hello, Mommy," Luna said, looking up, as Caughlin entered the office and stepped next to her. Today was the big day - work had ended early, and Caughlin found herself with plenty of time to look up her foals before things went crazy. Already the hallways, the ponies at the water cooler were buzzing - with apprehension, excitement, and tangible annoyance at the massive jams that would occur.

Luna shrugged and motioned to the paper in front of her. "Just working on the weekly report. You're done on your end? How did it go?"

"The usual. Same old, same old. Just dropped by to ask: would you like to have lunch with me and your sister?" asked Caughlin.

"I thought the big move was today," frowned Luna.

"Isn't the move after lunch?"

"The administration suggested that I help with coordination, so I'm supposed to be at a station somewhere for briefing," Luna explained. "Then again, I don't think I like the idea of yelling to crowds on an empty stomach..." Her grin said it all. "But won't Celly be busy as usual?"

"We can at least try," shrugged Caughlin. "It's not like alicorns don't need to eat." She gave Luna a quick hug as they left the room. "If we move fast enough, we can make it before rush hour."

"You sound as if it makes any difference. Don't we all break for lunch at the same time?" asked Luna, keeping up effortlessly with Caughlin's brisk trot.

"You're the first alicorn in history, and I'm, well, here," laughed Caughlin. "I think we've got enough leeway to make it."

The office was part of the Order's own R&D building, which housed all the project rooms and work spaces. The building, in turn, was placed close to the centre of Central - magitech was power, after all. Merely a short walk and a lift ride later, the two stepped into the bustling streets of what was possibly the only city in Equestria.

The first thing that struck Caughlin when she first saw the city view was the crowd of ponies walking about at any time of the day. She had tried to stop one to ask about it, but was roughly brushed aside. A bystander had turned by and proceeded to tell her that half of them were "couriers", carrying packages and messages from one building to another, and upon observation she found this to be true. To save on magical energy, he explained, the Order placed a limit on the amount of magic a certain building could use, measured by thaumic radiation, so the first thing to revert to manual labour was logistics. The other half were probably office ponies changing shifts. In his humble opinion, he continued, it was good - it created jobs primarily for the refugees, "the poor sods". He then went on to invite Caughlin for a drink, which she refused very firmly.

The second thing was the perpetual shadow everypony lived under. Caughlin had always walked around with her shoulders straight and her head high, as a result of her leadership role; now that she was no longer in one and surrounded by skyscrapers, she found it harder and harder to do so. It felt pretentious, when everypony else's necks were bent low - be it from cubicle work or otherwise.

The sidewalk was dusty but mostly litter-free, thanks to the many sweepers that plodded along, picking up the occasional eyesore with tongs and throwing them in the trash bags they carried. Vehicles were a luxury and mostly in service of the Order administration, so the roads themselves were never very busy. Yet the swarm rarely overflowed - the few vehicles that travelled across the white-dashed asphalt moved very fast, very indiscriminately.

Together Caughlin and Luna made their way to the closest teleporter hub, a comparatively diminutive one-storey building with polished walls and floor. Above through the speakers, a mare's voice read in ingratiating tones assorted tidbits of information: the weather, traffic delays, the countdown to the next teleport. Already a queue was forming; they got in line before it could build up further.

"Where to?" asked the attendant at the counter when they finally reached..

"The training centre," replied Luna.

"The military one, right?" The attendant's eyes flickered involuntarily from her horn to her wings. "Gotcha. Okay, snouts up." The two obeyed as the attendant's horn flared. The recognition device in front of her beeped twice, and she nodded. "Gate six, though you probably know that already."

"You know," said Luna as they walked down the wide aisle, past the lined throngs, "you'd think they'd remember us after the number of times we've been down here."

"They see hundreds, maybe thousands of ponies every day," said Caughlin. "It's not part of their job to remember faces. To them, we might all just be clones or recolourings of one another. Ha, wouldn't that be interesting."

"But we're dead ringers, one-of-a-kind," snorted Luna. "I'm an alicorn - that says it all - and your eyes..." She suddenly stopped, biting her lip. "Nevermind."

"I don't think that's how you use the term 'dead ringer'," said Caughlin gently, "and it's okay." She giggled a little. "Shall I wear my eyepatch next time?"

"Mommy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't, Luna. It's okay. Really."

The teleporter circle was a lot wider than that of the hospital's, and a lot brighter, though the runes along the side were the same. The hum of magic was a good deal louder, too. Mother and daughter took their places in boxes chalked within the borders and waited. When the circle was adequately filled - and as rush hour was dawning, that meant crammed up shoulder to shoulder - the guards activated the teleporter, and they zoomed off as streams of energy through the ground.


"I'm sorry, miss Mare, but Special Unit Celestia is occupied at the moment."

"That's okay then. When will she be free?"

"Um." The receptionist drew out a file with the air of somepony who could guess the contents accurately, but was doing it anyway for protocol's sake. "Let's put it this way: not in the foreseeable future, what with the big move and re-settlement."

"Would it help if I told you that I'm her mother?"

"It wouldn't if not for the fact that I'm one myself." The receptionist's gaze softened. "The other girl told me about you. You're the one that's been trying all week, right? The one with the eye - er, I heard, right. The one with the foals, ahaha."

Caughlin let it slip and allowed herself a thin smile. "You have no idea."

"If somepony important asks, tell them you broke in," said the receptionist before handing over a pair of visitor's tags. She cleared her throat and recited: "As usual, you are to to wear these for identification at all times, and any act against you as a result of failure to comply is your responsibility. You have access to Atrium 3 where Special Unit Celestia is, but nowhere else, and failure to comply, so on, so forth." Lastly, she handed over a brochure. "The map should be all you need to find your way."

"Thank you, madam," said Caughlin.

The corridor beyond the receptionist's desk was carpeted, air-conditioned, and not wide enough to fit three ponies side by side. The intense quiet did not help Caughlin's uneasiness - she had discovered that small spaces bothered her, in some weird turn of mental compensation. It was the way her wings itched, and her hooves weren't long enough to scratch, and without her magic...

Either the facility was deserted, or the walls were very well-soundproofed, because the only sounds she could hear was Luna's hoofsteps.

"Do you think Celestia might be someplace else?" she asked in a half-whisper. "Shouldn't there be explosions and, er, things of the sort?"

"The training atria are specially sealed deep in the building, and the walls are soundproofed with recessive spells," said Luna, her wings flittering a little, agitating tiny gusts of air in their wake. "It's so that they don't disrupt the lives of the other ponies living around here, especially if something goes wrong."

"That sounds ominous. Like what?"

"Anything involving high-powered magic. A lot, really."

"Oh."

The rest of the journey was silent, punctuated only by the flapping of the map. They went down stairs and past nondescript, locked doors, turning corners and breathing recycled air in the dead quiet. How much time they had spent walking was something Caughlin could not pinpoint anymore. Time and even action lost meaning in the bowels of this strange, neat place.

"This can't be right," said Luna at last, giving the map a shake much harder than needed. "Where are we again?"

Caughlin read off the sign of the nearest door. "3-G."

"Hmm. Doesn't say where that is, on the map. We didn't pass by the atrium by accident, did we?"

"I was listening for it more than looking," admitted Caughlin. "I mean, you know how small the letters are, and the sessions are loud, so I thought..."

"Loud is definitely the word, and you're right." Luna grinned wryly. "Oh well. Not all hope is lost. All we have to do is re-trace our steps, and worse come to worst, I blow us out of here."

"Don't you think that's a bit too drastic?" snorted Caughlin.

"It's not like anypony actually uses these rooms anymore," reasoned Luna. "In fact, me testing my detonations is more training usage than these rooms will ever see, by the looks of it."

"That doesn't give you the right to smash them open! Besides," said Caughlin, voice softer, "didn't you say they were soundproofed?"

"Doesn't mean they aren't magicproof, nor hoofproof if it calls for it. Why, you can kick just as well as I can, Mommy! I won't have to do all of the work myself then."

The effect was creepy in the absence of all other sounds, but Caughlin giggled anyway. "Come on now. We have to get your sister out of this place before she wears herself to the bone."

"Right. My sister," muttered Luna.

Before they could continue, the crackling of static filled the air, followed by a pleasant jingle. Their heads swung defensively; the source of the sound was nowhere in sight, but the muffle suggested that this was because it was hidden in the ceiling.

"To the citizens of the Order, and to all of Equestria, wherever you may be; to all who are hearing this, greetings. I humbly request your attention. This is a special announcement."

The voice was the sort of calm that came by practice and a few days of fret and preparation. Caughlin knew, because it was the calm she used herself, back when Discord was an inevitable part of her week. The hint of hesitation, the uncertainty between solemn and pompous... and above all, familiar.

"Wait a moment," she blurted. "That voice..."

"I am Special Unit Celestia of the Order of Order, here to announce on our leader Furhich's behalf, a notice regarding today's scheduled move."

The two exchanged looks. The map was unfurled, and a gray hoof poked at the uppermost area labelled "8F: Broadcasting", moments before they broke into full gallop.

"Today's move will be the last of its kind, because today, the Order disbands."

It was all that Caughlin could do to resist stopping in shock and keep going. They took to the stairs unsteadily; neither of them had experience with running up stairs, only the experience of falling down them. Floors - that had taken time to get used to as well.

"For from today onwards, we will march out to hunt Discord down. We will find him wherever he is hiding, we will challenge him, and we will return victorious. The reign of order is at hand, and with our mission complete, we have no further need to move under the guise of a mere rebel group. Our purpose is as good as served. It would be meaningless to maintain this form any longer."

Fear mixed in with the adrenaline rush as she found herself flapping her legs helplessly in mid-air, dragged against her will. Luna's horn was aglow and her wings were making cramped half-flaps, brushing against the walls, chortling up the steps in extended jumps. Amidst her grunts and shouts there had been something resembling an apology. But Caughlin's ears were straining to listen to the announcement, after they had blanked out after the word hunt:

"Today, citizens of Equestria, we run free. Pack up your items, your goods and your household. Plan your journey ahead. Turn toward new horizons, and think of the lands you have always dreamed of. Today, you go forth as free ponies."

"Three more floors to go!" yelled Caughlin.

"Wait, why are we rushing?" retorted Luna. "I don't get-"

"Because we need to! Just trust me, go on!"

"No longer are you bound to curfews and boundaries, set for safety. No longer will you have to line up for rations, due to lack thereof. We have our lives back in our own hooves, and surely only good can come out of the harmony that will ensue."

Caughlin's face swung dangerously close to the corner as they made yet another turn. She tried to propel herself as close to Luna as possible, to no avail. No matter; they were almost there.

"Celestia!" she exclaimed, moments before white barreled into her snout.

"What? Wait, Lun-"

"Perhaps, good comrades, we shall cross paths once more. We can only pray that you will remember us as we will remember you, and on this note, I, on behalf of the Order of Order, wish you this: May your endeavours be fruitful, may your crops grow tall and proud, and may the rest of your lives be peaceful. Goodbye, and may we meet again."

Caughlin untangled herself from the faceful of white feathers and backed up hard against the nearest wall. There was a furious flapping of wings as the alicorns straightened themselves out as dignified as they could.

"Sister," said Luna quietly.

"Luna! And Mother, you're here too!" Celestia sounded genuinely happy to see them, or relieved at least. "Did you hear the announcement?"

"Yes," began Caughlin. "About that-"

"I was so nervous, Mother," exclaimed Celestia. "My first time making a speech! Of course Uncle Furhich wrote that, so I didn't have a say on what to say, excuse my little-" She actually giggled- "play on words. Oh, Mother, did it go well? I hope it did, this is so exciting!"

"I..."

Realization struck fast. She had made a speech to possibly hundreds of thousands of ponies, and was evidently excited - who wouldn't be? Even if she was projected to have the mentality of a middle-aged pony, she didn't have the experience to jade her. She was still so foal-like...

"It was good," replied Caughlin lamely. "You didn't stutter or anything."

"Oh, I'm so jittery now! I'm really glad you two came though." Caughlin found herself swept up in a quick hug. "I was wondering whether I might manage to see you one last time before we left."

"About that," said Caughlin again quickly, when the rest of her brain had caught up, "forgive my language, but what the hell?" Celestia looked rather taken aback. She steeled herself as she continued. "I didn't know about this hunt business. Nopony did. I mean, I know you're busy, and this explains a lot, but you could at least leave a line, couldn't you? I mean, Discord! And you're going after him! And I" - she shouted at the corridor behind them - "I didn't know!"

"I wanted you to come," said Celestia, lower lip curling. "Uncle Furhich didn't. He said that it was putting you unnecessarily at risk, what with..."

"Because I don't have a horn?" snorted Caughlin. She turned away, squeezed her eyes shut and gave the wall a good kick. "Where is he? And you thought that I couldn't, either?"

"Mother! I wouldn't, but... What if, you know... he's right?"

She gazed up into Celestia's eyes, and briefly saw the trembling figure of a filly from what seemed like so long ago. Then the image faded, and it was left with the eyes of today - golden, wide. Hardened.

"Listen, Celestia," said Caughlin, drawing the alicorn into a stiff embrace, "it doesn't matter. I raised you two. This is, well, your destiny, to bring peace to the world. I have to be there for you, to see it through." She felt her wings twitch and goosebumps travelled across her back. She fought off the welling of weight in her throat. "It's what a mother does." She stroked her flowing pink mane, keeping her eyes locked on the ground. "I have full faith that you can do this. I just want to be there, that's all... don't you see..."

"Oh, Mother," answered Celestia, burying her head deep into Caughlin's mane. She felt the alicorn tremble, the steel in her tone vanished. "I'm glad you came."

"You said that already," chipped Luna.

"I did, didn't I?" Celestia withdrew herself and gave her wings a rustle. "Oh, I wanted to stay a bit longer, maybe catch up with you two, but I... have to rush off now. Final preparations and everything. The council's expecting me in five." She began to accelerate to the stairs, only to stop and turn back. "By the way, Luna, uncle Furhich said to tell you that he wanted to make an appointment with you. Before we leave at sundown, if possible. I'll see you then. And Mother..."

"Yes, Celly?"

"Uncle Furhich... he'll be prancing all over the grounds to check up on things, but I think he'll be up on the observational tower just before we set off." She smiled weakly. "Maybe you could convince him that you'd be fine. I tried to, but... I gotta go. Hope to see you!"

With that, she was gone, leaving only the thumping of distant hooves to echo.

"Well," Caughlin said at last.

"Well indeed," replied Luna, her face as blank as the walls.


The door did not swing open. It did, however, burst with a solid bang that ripped it off its hinges. It gave a final screech as it was kicked to one side.

"Furhich!" yelled Caughlin, storming into the setting sun, keeping her eyes as fixed on the dark brown figure as possible. She never thought that she would be back on the rooftop like this; the scenery behind him, if not for the situation, looked amazing - hues of red and orange and even deep purple dressing the horizon... "Explain yourself!"

"All in good time," laughed Furhich, not even turning. It was a strange laugh; it was full of life, possibly even youth, the sort that rang across deserts in a midnight stampede or such brazen activities. Nothing that she had ever heard from him before. "Come, enjoy the scenery."

"You'll be seeing a lot less scenery if I have my way," growled Caughlin, stomping small cracks in the cement.

"Looks like somepony's discovered their potential - literally," said Furhich, nodding to himself. "Good. Good." He finally turned, his eyes full of an air - but of what? "This is about the expedition, yes?"

"What else, you lying cretin? And expedition is a funny way to put it, isn't it?"

"Miss Caughlin, do calm down." The grin on his face taunted her as it moved. "I have my reasons for leaving you behind today. I'm surprised that you don't recall." He stepped forward, deliberately, theatrically. "Celestia is the weapon on which our hopes rest upon. Not only a weapon, but a leader, a figure to rally behind. She is not the only participant; the plan involves a team, and this team needs something to believe in." Accusing glares met. "In turn, her hopes rest on you."

"So?"

"All that 'best defense is strong offence' philosophy is junk when facing a spirit of chaos," Furhich said flatly. "Discord knows Celestia's weakness, and he certainly knows yours. You're but a pony, and heaven knows how strong those are. How much offence do you think Celestia will be able to put in if she has to defend you at every turn? Or do you think that you can defend yourself?" He might as well have spat in her face; his tone suggested as much. All this time, she had been baiting him to be upfront; now that he was, he was up and front all the way to her snout.

"Even better, what do you think will happen if anything happens to you? Don't give me that look, Caughlin - you may not be afraid of what happens to you, but she is. And I'm afraid of what will happen to her, because she's our only hope. She's our only hope."

She would have been surprised if not for the numbness of shock, and that growing, swelling sensation building up in her wing joints. Furhich stepped back and lowered his head, and suddenly looked tired.

"The end is here. It's what we've been waiting for. What we've been dying for. It's selfish of me to do this to you, but I'm hoping that you'll be the bigger pony this time round. Don't be selfish. Let Celestia go and fulfill her destiny," breathed the voice, faint and low.

The last rays of the blood red sun accompanied Caughlin as the stallion made his way down the tower, the echoes of his steps heavy, mocking, pouring into the void in her chest.

The swelling grew as her thoughts blanked, and raw emotion took over. Pain - but not pain, just discomfort - discomfort unlike anything she had felt before. Her insides were sloshing about. Her vision blurred and swayed. She wanted to crawl over and die -

Halfway down the stairs, she could hear the sound of frantic running, rushing up to meet her. Despite the dark, it was clear who the runner was.

"Mommy... you can fly now?" asked Luna, stunned in an awkward sprawl across the first steps before the landing.

"What?" Caughlin shook her head to see herself land roughly on the ground. The swelling had not ceased; she beat her wings again, and felt blessed relief - and surprise - as she hovered uncertainly. The joy snuffed out as fast as it came - she landed, and headed toward the doorway.

"Uhh, Mommy? What are you doing?"

"I'm going to pack," replied Caughlin.

"What? Why?" Luna began an unsteady descent after her. "You look... vacant. Hey! What did uncle Furhich say to you?"

"It's for the best," muttered Caughlin, dropping to the floor in a tumble. She rolled down a couple of steps unceremoniously, and felt the dust tickle her snout. She could see the fuzziness of the carpeting, feel the grime of a thousand hooves across her sprawled figure -

"What are you talking about? Mommy, get up!"

"What is there to get up to?" whispered Caughlin.

Luna shook her head, sending little ripples across her shimmering mane. "Uncle Furhich probably said something bad about you, didn't he? He's just stressed, that's all. He's nervous. He doesn't know what he's saying, and I can bet my left hoof that he doesn't know what we want. He gets too distracted with himself. Even I can see that." She snorted. "Look, you and I are going on that hunt. We're going to tail the party half an hour or so after they leave, and reveal ourselves when it's too late to send us back. I've got it all planned out. I was going to carry you, but since you can fly..."

"Why, Luna?" choked Caughlin. "Why do you want me to go so badly?"

"Because we need you, that's why!" shouted Luna, her shadow filling the hallway. Her tone struck Caughlin like a thump to the head, torn between disdain and exasperation. It was the second time today another pony had been outright rude to her, and it shook her up long enough to hear out the continuation. She half-got up, but didn't dare to go any further than that - Luna's visage from the bottom was terrifying.

"You say you believe in us and all that, but there are dozens of others who don't! They look at us without hope or opinion, like we're exhibits that can't do anything! Heck, even uncle Furhich doesn't trust me half as much as you do, much less the military ponies, and if you saw the hooves they point behind Celestia's back..." Luna's eyes were now a seething pit, as seething as bottomless could be. "Now she's going up with a bunch of ponies who're either scared of her, or hate her, and uncle Furhich who frankly isn't a lot of help, going up to who-knows-where to fight Discord. Alone! And you're just going to stay here? Come on, Mother, what are you thinking?"

The echoes died out spectacularly fast, leaving the sniffling exposed in the open. It was hard to say which one was more pathetic; the fallen gray mare in the dust, or the angry, choked sobs of the rejected prototype.

Caughlin raised a hoof almost dreamily. Luna plunged in at the opening, and an instant warmth spread through her chest.

"I'm sorry, Luna," murmured Caughlin gently, as the tremblings began to course against her forelegs. "I've been a silly pony. Silly, silly indeed."

"I... Celestia... I don't want her to die, Mommy, not alone, and if we were there, I thought... we could at least try..."

"And that's the most important thing, right?" murmured Caughlin through sobs. "That we at least try."