Rarity frowned at the arrangement of the fruit on the platter. Apples and walnuts were thrown together recklessly, their colors clashing without regard for presentation. And a week ago, such an effortless attempt would have bothered her.
Such problems seemed trivial now. Who gave a damn how neat the plate looked? It wasn't like Pinkamena would care. Or even notice, in all likelihood.
Her nihilism would have surprised her if she’d noticed it. An uncomfortable stillness had descended over the farm; nopony wanted to acknowledge it, but they all did, accidentally with every sufferance that went unspoken. The hole they left behind by their withheld feelings showed.
Rarity levitated the plate beside her and wondered when she had become the farm's designated waitress. She echoed the Wayfarer's Creed in her head as she carried the meal out the door.
Never do by horn what can be done by hoof. Patience, endurance, and the value of work can't be taught with magic.
And look what it had done to them. What she had insisted was character-building had turned out to be blind stupidity. If her magic had been stronger...
Rarity wouldn't make that mistake again.
She let herself into Pinkamena’s house. It was almost routine to her: carry the food to the back of the house, set the bowl down next to all the others, leave, and hope that eventually she would get hungry enough to emerge.
But this time, when Rarity went to leave her friend's dinner, the bowls from the previous nights were gone. She hoped that this was good news. She hesitated only briefly before knocking on the door with telekinesis. "Pinkie?"
There was no spoken response, but Rarity could hear a shuffling about beyond the door, which was more than she had heard any of the other times.
"I'm coming in," she announced, offering the mare on the other side of the door ample time to raise any objections. Wwhen none came, she pushed the door open and entered.
Sealed off from the rest of the world, Pinkamena Diane Pie had wasted no time in transforming her bedroom into a swamp of strewn dishes, clothes, and heaven knew what else. Rarity gingerly advanced, taking care to avoid stepping on anything hazardous.
The pink earth pony looked to be in even worse condition than usual. Her formerly straight mane was now bent and frazzled, and her eyes were hidden behind dark holes. Whatever she had been doing in this room, it hadn't been sleeping. sShe was carrying a thick sack, filling it with some leftover vegetables and bread.
"Packing, are we?" asked Rarity, not sure how concerned to be about her friend's behavior.
"I can't stay here," answered Pinkamena. "I can't. Nothing’s going to change here. This farm is the past. Too many memories. Too many broken promises. I need the future."
Her tone gave Rarity pause, but she figured that this new energy was better than nothing. Encouragement was going to be needed.
"I'm just glad to see you up and about. I was really worried."
"How long?" Pinkamena didn't even look up from throwing a notebook into the bag.
"Pardon?"
"How long was I out of it? It's a bit of a blur, really."
"A couple days.” It had been nearly a week. “But you seem to be doing better now."
"As well as I can be. I must have been in a sorry state."
This was quite a fast recovery, thought Rarity. Perhaps too fast. But Pinkamena was unbothered by reservations and wasted no time in trying to get caught up. "Where's Applejack?"
"She left." Then, a bit too late, Rarity remembered that Applejack's identity was a secret. "I mean..."
"Don't worry. It was kind of obvious, all things considered. Especially after Twilight. I believed her story, but this was the evidence. So she left, huh? Disappointing. You know where to?"
Rarity shook her head.
"Question. Did she leave on her own, or did you kick her out?"
Something about Pinkamena's speech pattern struck Rarity as off. Not necessarily stilted, but... succinct. Micromanaged. Purposeful. Whether this was for better or for worse, she had no idea.
"Kick her out? Pinkie, you should know that I..."
"Care a lot about other ponies? Yeah. I know. And Applejack brought a heap of trouble upon us. Too much trouble. For the good of the farm, you did what you had to do. I bet you even got her to agree with you."
Rarity stared, dumbfounded. "That's remarkably perceptive of you," she commented.
Pinkamena was unaffected by the compliment. "It's not like I've been able to do much else these past few days," she commented. "Sit and think, mostly. Plan out possible futures. Where I go from here. The problem is, most of them don't make a difference to me."
"Pardon?"
Pinkamena looked up from trying to stuff a blouse into the bag, her eyebrows sagging in boredom. "Like the sun. I could care less if it comes back or not, not like I'll have a choice. We play the hand we're dealt and try to make the biggest change we can, which is never much. And the world spins on. It doesn't even notice. So why I should I care about it?"
"But what about all the ponies that are starving?"
"Good for them. But my goals are personal ones. I don't want to change things for the world anymore. I want to change things for me."
Rarity noticed the bag again. If she hadn't come up when she did, she wondered, would Pinkamena have just slipped away unnoticed?
"Where are you going?" She asked, unable to even begin to fathom the answer.
"I need to finish things. Remember that pegasus mare from the forest?"
Rarity felt an involuntary shiver pass through her. "How could I forget?" The Shadowbolts. The traitors to their own homeland. There was little more terrifying, thought Rarity, than a pony who had long since abandoned any loyalties to the old world. And the uniforms didn't help, either.
"I'm going to find her," said Pinkamena. "And then I'm going to kill her."
"What? No." Rarity scrambled to compose a better response, but she had been thrown. She didn't know how to respond to the claim, and she wasn't sure if she believed it. Pinkamena was the most passive and subdued pony she knew. Rarity couldn't remember the last time she had shown initiative. And now...
"Look, Pinkamena. Please, I know you're angry..."
"I'm not angry," interrupted Pinkamena. "Don't jump to conclusions; I'm not angry. That's the problem." She faltered, and a spasm passed through her as she recomposed herself. "I wish I was angry. I wish I was furious at her, and I know I should be. But I'm not, because there's no point in getting angry. I'm not angry, or frightened of her, or remorseful, or anything! And that terrifies me. Because without those feelings, I don't have any reason to hold back. And what does that make me?"
She stumbled into Rarity's arms, and she held her delicately, as if she could break if she wasn't too careful. Pinkamena continued to sob and rant. "The stallion tried to hurt our family, so I punished him. It was justice. He deserved it. But it wasn't enough. But there was the other one, the mare. She got away. I want to... I want to find her, Rarity. I want to find her and tear off her wings and feed them to her. I want to break her legs and then... and then throw her in a freezing lake to see how she feels. Oh!" Pinkamena buried her face into Rarity's neck. "I don't know what to do, Rarity, and I'm terrified. Because I really do want it. I want to kill her. I want to kill that monster. And I'm scared I won’t be able to stop myself."
Rarity tried her best not to betray her rising horror as she soothed the earth pony. "Take a breath," she murmured. "Just calm down..."
Pinkamena broke off from the embrace. "You don't care, do you?" she screamed, catching Rarity off guard. "Those ponies are murderers, and you don't even care!"
"Of course I care!" cried Rarity, and her shock was quickly overcome by anger. "Sweetie Belle was everything to me. You want to know why I worked so hard to manage this farm? So that even if I couldn't fix the world, I could at least make it into something bearable for her when I'm gone. I'm not going to be in this world forever, and when I go, I wanted my little sister and whatever family she might have formed to be proud of what I had done."
"And none of that's going to happen anymore, is it?" asked Pinkamena. "Everything you've done is meaningless because of them. Everything you've cared about is hopeless. And you're just going to let them get away."
"I never said that..."
"You might as well have. Why don't you see that we have to stop them? You saw what they can do. What's to stop them from hurting more ponies? Revenge isn't evil, Rarity. It's restoring balance. Those pegasi need to pay."
"They have paid, Pinkamena," said Rarity, a word at a time. "I remember what you did to the stallion."
Pinkamena stopped, her entire composure breaking as she struggled to ignore the images and compose a response.
"He didn't have it..." she finally managed to say, unable to do anything but echo the thought that had been echoing constantly since the incident. "I couldn't back down, but he didn't have it. I thought if I just pushed a little harder, then he would give it up, but..."
"And you kept pushing harder," finished Rarity. "And harder and harder until you broke him. Don't accuse me of not caring, Pinkamena. I'm just as hurt and heartbroken as you are. But I'm trying to come to terms with this in a way that doesn't involve blood. Because if we pursue this to its end, whatever we end up creating won't be worth it."
Pinkamena's only response was to bury herself even deeper into Rarity's coat. "I... I understand," she finally said. "But I don't want to just sit here. Doing nothing is worse than anything. Can't we do something for them?" She began to choke up. "I never got to say goodbye. I had my chance, and I blew it. How am I supposed to live with that?"
Rarity tried her hardest to smile. "If you need to talk, then talk. Get closure. Say what you need to say."
Pinkamena hung her head. "It doesn't make a difference anymore. She can't hear me now."
"You don't know that. I don't think you even believe that. You want justice. You want to make her proud of you, and you can't do that unless you believe she's out there, somewhere. If she's gone, then there isn't anything left to do but move on. But if part of her is still around, as a spirit or from the afterlife or wherever, if she can see you offer vengeance, she can hear you tell her whatever it is you never got the chance to."
Pinkamena broke off the embrace and stumbled away. "I need to be alone."
Rarity nodded in understanding and prepared to give Pinkamena her space. When the pink pony beat her to the door, Rarity paused, and began following at a distance. She tried to get inside Pinkamena's head, to predict her thoughts, but the task was impossible. The troubled mare had abandoned logic, instead seeking whatever would give her peace of mind. Peace of mind was probably what she needed. What they all needed.
But her confusion heightened when she followed Pinkamena into the kitchen and watched her rummage through the drawers.
"Are you still hungry?" Rarity asked. "I think we have some..." but the words froze on her lips as Pinkamena drew a cleaver from the drawer and explored different ways of holding it in her hoof.
"Pinkie," warned Rarity. She ran scenarios in her head. "What are you doing?"
"Exactly what I said I would do." Pinkamena made some experimental swings of the cleaver, getting used to its weight. "I'm going to go into the forest. I'm going to find the mare that killed my daughter. And I'm going to ruin her." She pointed the weapon at Rarity, warning her unicorn friend away. "And you are going to let me go."
"Maybe you should go back to bed," offered Rarity, her voice cracking. "We should discuss this. Think before we make any rash decisions."
"No!" Pinkamena took a step toward Rarity. "I am done thinking. All I have done for the past week is think. This is the time for action."
"Please..." Rarity begged, putting her hoof over top of the one Pinkamena was using to hold the weapon.
"I have to do this. This is all I have left of Pumpkin, and I won't let you take what's left of her away from me. I need to do this. For her."
"I doubt this is for her. I don't think Pumpkin would want you to become a killer."
"Don't tell me about my daughter," said Pinkamena, transforming from the fierce containable rage to cold certainty. "You didn't know her. I'll avenge her, and nopony is going to stop me."
To her surprise, Rarity didn't scream or cry when the knife pierced her side. She could still feel it but it didn't hurt; the shock came on far too quickly. She grasp slackened and she released her grip on Pinkamena. The pink pony stand over her, and Rarity was struck by the fire smoldering behind her eyes.
"Pinkie?" said another voice.
Pinkamena turned, more irritated than surprised when she noticed that the pony at the door at already set off on a gallop toward her. She barely had time to raise her knife when the gray stallion collided with her and knocked her to the ground, pinning her limbs.
"Custard! Love!" she said as cheerfully and as innocently as possible given the situation. "I wasn't expecting you." When her husband's grip didn't slacken, her smile faltered as she tried to get out from underneath him.
"Clearly not. What in blazes do you think you're trying to pull?"
"This isn't what it looks like. If anything, you should be helping me. Rarity said that she..."
"I heard what she said, Pinkie."
Pinkamena grinned. "Good!" she said nervously. "Then you can help me." She beamed at Custard, trying to look hopeful. "Well?" she asked when he didn't move. "Get off of me so we can stop her!" When her husband continued to only glare at her, the realization set in. "Not you too..." she murmured. She struggled harder, beginning to flail wildly with the knife, cutting into his back once. He didn't seem to notice.
"You can't do this!" she screamed. "Think about Pumpkin. She needs us."
Custard grabbed her hoof and forced the knife out of her grip. “She doesn't need help. You do. Talk to me." P
"Talk to you?" Pinkamena asked, and she giggled a little.
"Yes. I married you for a reason. Full disclosure."
The words tasted bitter to Pinkamena. "You sure you can handle that? Full disclosure is I married you for exactly one reason, and now she's gone. I can't stand you, Custard. You're a rough brute, and a self-absorbed pig. I put up with so my daughter could have a father."
"Our daughter..." said Custard.
"My daughter. She may have been made from your seed, but she is not yours." Pinkamena sighed, an overemphasized wistful tone. "I really wanted your help," she said. "I thought maybe you would be good for something after all. But if you won't help me the one time I really need it, you're useless." She raised her head and bit Custard in the neck. He flinched just enough for her to pull one of her hind legs from beneath his and bring it up into his groin. She pulled out from beneath him and dove for the knife. When her hooves came up empty, she howled, gnashing her teeth.
Behind Custard, Rarity levitated the knife above their heads. Pinkamena looked back and forth between her friend and her husband, weighing her options.
"I put up with you for her," Pinkamena hissed at Custard. "My life was hers before she was even alive. And if you're not going to be here for her when she needs you, then I don't owe you a thing."
Custard stumbled backwards as his legs lost their steadiness. When Rarity rushed to help him, Pinkamena ran to the door and fled into the night.
"Let her go," said Rarity as she examined the cut on Custard's back. "We can help her any more than we have."
"I know," he said, the fight gone from his voice. "I want to be there for her, I want to help her through this, but I can't, can I?"
"Your back doesn't look bad, although I expect we'll have to bandage it. Let me see your neck."
"You don't think I'm responsible for this, do you?" he asked as he bent his head backwards.
Rarity hesitated. "Perish the thought," she said, a bit too late. "You weren't one of the vagabonds that... that..."
"But I still am responsible, aren't I? She wouldn't have snapped like that if I'd been more... understanding of her. More willing to listen to her."
It was the segue into everything Rarity had been wanting to say since Custard’s wedding, but for now she needed wounds to heal. "We can't know that. There's no point in worrying about the past, only use it better ourselves. If you find fault in the pony you used to be, then figure out how to do better in the future.”
He pushed himself away from Rarity and rested his head in his hooves. "I loved them both, more than anything. I always thought that there's supposed to be this shock after an accident, when the real impact hasn't come yet. So how am I going to feel later?"
Rarity tried to hold him again, and this time he didn't fight. She put her front hooves around his shoulders. "And I miss Sweetie Belle." She didn't know what else to say, so she didn't.
"You still have Big Macintosh."
"And you still have me. And I still have you. I know it's not the same. But we are family, so we're stuck. I've got to stick up for you, regardless of how much of an intolerable bully you happen to be."
Custard tried his best to smile. "And I'll look after you, no matter how much of a self-righteous snake you turn out to be."
"Prick."
"Whore."
Rarity chuckled, and Custard chuckled with her. Rarity tried to adjust her grip and winced as she rubbed against the knife wound. The mood broke, and Custard pulled out of her embrace. "Come on," he said. " Let's make sure you're alright. Then we figure out what to do next, as a family."
"As a family," echoed Rarity.
###
"Let her go."
"It's terrifying, isn't it?" mused Pinkamena, using the same songful voice of her counterpart, but with malevolence and condescension in place of optimism. She nodded toward the knife that was pressed gingerly against sleeping Apple Bloom's neck. "It's frightening when the ponies we care most about are in danger. What a tragedy this could be, if I slipped. I wouldn't take another step if I were you."
"You're bluffing,” said Applejack. “If you hurt her, then nothing's going to stop me from leaping across the room and kicking your jaw right up into your brain."
Pinkamena rolled her eyes, and Applejack got the feeling she was being silently scorned. "You really want to risk calling my bluff?" she asked. "I have literally nothing to lose. All my life I've wondered whether or not there's a heaven, and now I hope there isn't one. Because if there is, then she's there hating me, and she'll always hate me for the rest of time."
"Yer daughter doesn't hate you, Pinkie," said Applejack. "I'm sure of it."
"Rarity didn't tell you, did she?" asked Pinkie. "About those final moments by the river. All I wanted was to save Pumpkin. And every story we read and hear tells us that if we put one hundred percent of our effort into one thing, we'll get it. Call it conviction, or denial, but I knew that if I just pushed hard enough, I'd find a way to save her.
"And I did push. I'd pushed harder than I thought I had in me. And there was nothing left in me to realize that my baby was right there, twenty feet away from me. I could have spent her last moments counseling her, saying goodbye. But I didn't. And I never will, because I spent the last minute of her life killing some pony neither of us knew right in front of her. And when I finished, when he was gone and couldn't help us anymore, I turned around and I saw her. I don't know when she had woken up or how much she saw, but she was looking at me with the this fear, this total terror, that I knew she didn't even recognize me anymore. I had been given one last chance to make peace, and I threw it away.
"I gave her my life. The only reason I lived was for her. The only way I could feel anything was through her. And now she's gone, and my entire purpose in life has gone with her. I don't want anything anymore. I'm gone, just like she is. But I have to keep on living, even though I don't have anything left to live for. I want to feel. I don't care if I'm happy or sad or furious. Anything other than this. And I figured out how to do it. I can still understand justice."
"What did you do to her?"
"Relax. Sleeping medicine for anxiety. It used to be mine. Don't worry, I measured out the right dose for her. Slept all the way from home to here. I won't hurt her; she's innocent." She put her hoof to her chin in mock thought, the blade cutting into her neck and drawing blood, but she didn't react. "Then again, my daughter was innocent too, and she died because of you. So maybe I will kill her.”
“Don’t you dare,” said Applejack. “She looked into Pinkamena's eyes, looking for any sign of her friend.”
"Then how about you don't make me angry, and I won't have to?" She returned the blade so that it was threatening the unconscious Apple Bloom. "Your choice, of course."
The standoff lasted several terse seconds, and then Applejack deflated. "What do you want?" she asked. A glimmer of hope told her she wasn't giving in, just waiting for the right opportunity, but she wasn't sure if she believed it.
"The Shadowbolt. She's here, isn't she? Bring her. We have some unfinished business."
###
Fluttershy didn't slow her pace until she was safely within her burrow. She dreaded restocking days. The way the ponies in the streets looked at her, she could tell they were just waiting to follow her back to her little home and take it from her. They would take away her food and her animals, cook them up and cave in the burrow behind her. She had heard rumors about ponies that were resorting to eating meat, and the thought brought her to an even greater frenzy. "Those monsters," she cursed aloud. "I'll never let them get in here. They won't." She would protect her animal friends with her life. Even if meat was pretty delicious.
She halted and tried to figure out where that errant thought had come from. "I've never..." she said, once again slipping into speaking her thoughts where nopony could hear. "I wouldn't."
They were already corrupting her, then. "Maybe I'll just stop going into town," she decided firmly. She could do it, she figured. She was already mostly self-reliant. She could scavenge the Everfree Forest for all the food she might need. And that was all she really needed, right?
But she also needed medical supplies for her and her animals, bandages and alcohol for disinfecting. And she couldn't find those in the Forest.
She set her bags down on a small green rug she had pilfered from an abandoned cottage at the edge of town. Ponyville was a dying town. And those who stayed behind were the ones willing to fight each other over the scant remains.
Hiding in her hole didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.
A buzzing white noise, low in volume and in pitch, tickled the back of her mind. She winced,winced; the noise always seemed to aggravate her headaches. She followed the sound into the adjacent room, where Angel and Chestnut were watching a crystal radio. When Angel heard her enter, the rabbit grabbed her hoof and pointed to the magical instrument.
"That's okay, Angel," insisted Fluttershy. "We don't need to listen to scary messages from outside. We can just stay nice and safe in here." But Angel shook his head and pulled roughly and despite their size difference roped her in, sitting her down between him and Chestnut. "Okay, this works too." Fluttershy was not in the mood to argue. "What are you listening to? There's nothing on."
They sat in silence for several minutes, until with a crack of static, a tinny yet excited voice came forth from the speaker:
"Twilight, Twilight, if either of you are hearing this, I'm hiding out in Appleloosa."
Fluttershy knew what Angel was asking her to do immediately. The pony in her head, the one that lit up into a brilliant spark whenever she saw a suffering animal, was urging her to take action as well. "Do I have to?" she asked her inner Kindness as much as she asked Angel. But she already knew the answer. She would. Even if not for Angel's urging, if not for the voice in her head, she knew she still had a debt to repay.
###
"She's not getting better." Fluttershy's prognosis was grim, but she had a commitment to tell Applejack the truth. "She's asleep or delirious most of the day, and when she's not she's too anxious or distracted to talk to me. I can't seem to get her comfortable."
Applejack watched Twilight's labored breathing, and each breath drove another little pinprick of empathy into her chest. "The burns are that bad, huh?"
Fluttershy shook her head. "We got clear of the blast. Twilight... our Twilight, got me far enough away I barely felt it. The other Twilight... this Twilight... she didn't get far enough in time. She got hit by the fire, but... but it still wasn't that bad. Not bad enough for this. She should have healed by now. She has healed by now. As far as I can tell, there's nothing physically wrong with her anymore."
"But something's wrong. Otherwise you just know she'd be up there fighting with the rest of us."
Fluttershy was silent for a moment as she looked at the unicorn in the bed with a critical eye. "Maybe not," she confessed. "This isn't the Twilight we know, Applejack. She's not friendly. Not brave. Maybe she's drawing out her injuries so she can stay in bed."
"You really think she would do that? Pretend to be hurt just so she could lie about while you take care of her?"
"Absolutely," she said, bitter. "She's not our Twilight. She's an impostor. And we can't forget that, not ever."
"Technically, I am."
Fluttershy's ears pressed against her head, and Applejack smiled nervously. Twilight's eyes weren't open. She still looked like she was sleeping. But she continued to speak. "The other Twilight, the one from this world. Gilda attacked her, remember? Left a scar on her face. I don't have that scar. I came from your world."
"Now hold on an apple-pickin' minute. That body might be property of my best friend, but that don't mean you’re her. Your little mind-switchy-dohickey made sure of that. It swapped you."
"But not completely." Twilight grimaced and groaned as she tried to get the words out. "When we came over here, the only things I could remember were the things the me from this world knew. But every time I fell asleep I saw..." she choked up a little. "I saw all of you. I saw how you and Rainbow Dash bonded during the running of the leaves. I saw how we came together to fight Nightmare Moon. And I didn't just see it. I felt it, like I was there. I remembered it. Fluttershy, please. It's not about whether I'm your Twilight or not. I don't know if there's even a difference anymore. I had two lives, and I remember them both." She tried to sit up but winced, clutching her head in her hooves. "I swear to you, I'm just as much Twilight Sparkle as she was."
"You're not," said Fluttershy, but she stumbled over her words.
"I am. Remember when that dragon was threatening to cover Equestria in smoke? I couldn't stop it. None of us could. But you, you saved us. You saved the world." She hesitated. "You saved me." She tried to reach out to Fluttershy, but the pegasus mare drew back.
"No. You aren't. If you were really her, you wouldn't be here right now. If you were really her, you wouldn't have let her die so you could escape from that ship. If you were really her, you wouldn't be lying here in bed; you'd be up and fighting. Because she's a leader. She's strong. She's the one with the plan. You? You're none of that. You're not going to fool me again."
"Fluttershy..." But Twilight couldn't pursue the matter any further; her strength left her and she fell back to the mattress.
Fluttershy got up and went to leave, but she stopped when the door opened and Pinkie Pie stepped in.
"Is it Trixie?" asked Applejack. "Is she here?"
Pinkie shook her head. "Nope! We got a new friend."
Fluttershy and Applejack exchanged silent confusion and concern. And then Pinkie opened the door wide and another pony entered.
Fluttershy wasn't quite sure what to make of what she was seeing. The mare before her struck her as intimately familiar. She had a ragged coat and mane, and in the lighting it was difficult to make the colors out. She had what looked like a large metal plate strapped to her back. The mare also seemed taken off guard by Fluttershy and avoided making eye contact.
"Is that... me, Pinkie?" Fluttershy asked. Of course there would be another Fluttershy. She just hadn't expected to meet her. She also expected the mare to have wings.
"I met her before," said Applejack. "She saved me when I was lost out in the mountains. It's okay, everypony. We can trust her. What brings you here, sugarcube?"
The other Fluttershy ignored the questions and stepped over to Twilight. "I think this is yours," she said quietly, and she pulled the plate off her back and set it on the floor. Twilight struggled to get into a position where she could get a good look at it.
"What is that?" asked Applejack. "Something ain't right here."
"It's the mirror," answered Twilight, puzzled. "I don't know where she found it or how she knew it was mine, but that's the mirror I made. The one for seeing into your world."
"I heard you were hurt," said the other Fluttershy. "It was on the radio, and I knew I had to help you. I still owe you."
Twilight tried to make sense of what the Fluttershy was telling her. Either she wasn't being reasonable, or Twilight's headache made it hard for her to understand what she really meant. "You don't owe me, Fluttershy."
"Yeah. If anything, we owe you," added Pinkie. "You saved Applejack. And Twilight when she was lost in the woods. So we owe you double!"
Fluttershy smiled lightly. "Twilight saved my life," she said. "I can’t repay her, but I'm going to try. Anything I can do to help her, or a friend of hers... I have to, no matter how frightening it is. I owe her."
Twilight searched through both sets of memories to figure out what Fluttershy was talking about. "I never saved you, Fluttershy. I've never even met you before."
"You did," insisted Fluttershy. "Long ago. I was just a filly. I fell. I was going to die. You saved me."
"But I never..."
"Please." Fluttershy seemed desperate, so Twilight stopped talking. "Please, let me help you."
Twilight nodded weakly and closed her eyes, hoping it would make the room stop spinning. "Anything you can do you would be great," she muttered. "Thank you."
The more familiar Fluttershy stepped forward. "She's been having these really bad headaches. Is there anything you can do about it?"
"Don't worry," said the other Fluttershy. "I have a lot of experience dealing with headaches."
Twilight didn't hear much of what came after that, as she was already under.
###
"So what's the plan?"
Spike needed the conversation. Sitting in the quiet Appleloosa jailhouse, Spike was bored. They had ignored his suggestions and tied him up anyway. He couldn't really feel it through his rough scales, and he could think of several ways to escape off the top of his head: shrink and slip out, grow and bust out, cut the rope on his scales, or raise his body temperature and burn it, a new trick he and Trixie had been practicing the last couple weeks. (Dragon physiology was full of surprises.) These heroes seemed to be lacking experience. They definitely didn't have the training Nightmare had made sure to give him and Trixie. So why were they so hard for Nightmare to eliminate?
He was tied to a chair in the jail's lobby, next to Spitfire, Pinkie Pie and one of the Fluttershys. (He had known about the other world for a while now, thanks to Madame Orange's debriefing. But after Trixie was captured, the sight of the two twin mares was enough for the bizarreness to finally sink in.)
Pinkie was the only one to answer him; the other ponies in the room all looked elsewhere. "So this is the part where the villains give away the entire plan because the hero is tied up and can't do anything, only he's not tied up and he's only pretending and he's going to escape and save the world and get the girl? Nice try bub, but it's not going to work because you're the villain here, not us. And everyone knows that the heroes can't reveal their plan until they do it, not even to their friends who could help or point out flaws or anything, just to make it even cooler when they pull it off. And we are cool, mister!" She jabbed a hoof at Spike. "We. Are. Cool."
"Pinkie's right. I think," added Spitfire. "How do we know we can trust you? You work for Nightmare."
Spike hissed. "I don't work for Nightmare. I belong to Trixie, and sending her back to Nightmare is the last thing she needs. That job... it drained her." He tried to lay back and look nonchalant, but the being tied up made it difficult. "All I'm saying is you need a plan if you want even a chance of beating Nightmare. She's not stupid. And now that she knows you have her most important pony, she'll be coming after you."
"But she doesn't know we have Trixie," countered Spitfire. "We have time."
"I said she's not stupid," said Spike. "You're underestimating her. Don't do that."
"But how..."
"Have you never taken a close look at that cloak Trixie wears?"
Spitfire saw her own confusion mirrored on the faces of her allies. "Why?"
"Because it's not a cloak at all."
###
Applejack's outlook was grim when she hobbled into the jailhouse, not quite trusting her legs to carry her.
Spike was busying himself by blowing smoke rings and trying to shoot darts of flame through them. He was surprised the ponies hadn't reprimanded him for using his flame breath. The Fluttershy was watching each of Spike's movements like he was an exhibit.
Spitfire looked up from a set of horseshoes she had found in storage and was experimentally swinging about. "I thought you went to bed?"
Applejack shook her head. She started to explain but caught herself. Explain what? That a deranged caricature of one of her best friends had just visited her demanding blood? That she had to turn in Spitfire if she wanted to save her sister? What if Spitfire refused to go quietly? Or worse, what if she insisted on a rescue and somepony ended up dead?
"Tried," mumbled Applejack. "Couldn't sleep."
"You should try harder," said Fluttershy. Applejack made a quick check. No wings. That and the hollow, distant voice told her this was not her Fluttershy. "We can keep an eye on Trixie and Spike. It's the least we can do."
"That's not the issue," stammered Applejack. “How's Trixie?"
Spitfitre whinnied. "Uncooperative. You want to take a shot with her?"
"Sure." The situation with Trixie didn't even seem real anymore; the image of the crazed and armed Pinkamena somehow felt more present than what was unfolding right in front of her. She marched back toward the row of cells.
"Wait!" shouted Spike. Applejack turned and saw he was pleading with her. "Promise me you won't hurt her."
Applejack knew better than to lie. "We need to figure out where the elements are. Where Rarity and Rainbow Dash are. I'm not making any promises I can't keep, Spike."
Spike tried his best to stare her down, but his trembling and quick breath betrayed him. "You can't!" he cried. "You're supposed to be the good guys, right? You help ponies. And Trixie needs help. She's a good pony too!"
Applejack tread carefully to avoid breaking the dragon's heart. "Spike... you see the best in ponies, but you know what she did as well as I did. Heck, you've probably seen her do worse things than we know of. She took our friends. She pretended to be Twilight so she could take us too. She's loyal to Nightmare Moon, through and through."
"She can change!"
Spike was getting desperate. Applejack had to put this to rest. "Spike, I've been around ponies like her long enough to know that they don't change. Once a villain, always a villain."
"But, but," he began, but then he hung his head. "Please don't hurt her," he begged.
Applejack felt like a monster. Even if this wasn't the same Spike, she felt like she was torturing the Spike she knew. "How about this?" she offered. "Convince Trixie to help us, and we'll be nice to her, I swear."
###
Trixie felt numb all over. Her rump was numb from sitting in the same position for hours, her horn was numb from the poison joke, and her legs were numb from the rope. But she had removed all those concerns from her mind.
"The child of an alchemist
Who sought to use forbidden art
To orchestrate a royal tryst
And steal the Crystal Maiden's heart.
He fathomed up enchanted brews
To mix an acrid smelling potion
That glowed with vile murky hues
Whose consumption brought devotion."
"What in the name of Harmony is she doing?" asked Applejack.
"We were hoping you could tell us," said Spitfire. "She's just been muttering to herself all day. I think she's gone crazy."
"No, it's to keep her from going crazy," said Spike. His gaze was averted, not looking directly at her. "She keeps her mind on something else, something she knows well, so she doesn't have to think about what's really happening. Nightmare taught her to do that. It's The Kingdom Out of Time. You know, the poem about the Heart and Hooves day story? She thinks she's going to be rescued soon, she just needs to outlast you."
Trixie ignored them all, unheeded.
"He offered up his denouement
The draught of love and lust entwined
Which from her heart drove fear of harm
And reason from her mind"
Applejack tried to tune out the chanting. The resigned inflectionless voice seemed unearthly. "Trixie," she commanded. Nothing changed. The unicorn continued unperturbed. Applejack tried calling her name again, louder this time, to no effect. She grabbed Trixie's muzzle, holding it closed. "No more creepy poetry, Trixie. Do you understand me?"
Trixie's features sharpened. She followed the hoof with her eyes, ending by looking into Applejack's face. She made no acknowledgment of her situation. Unsettled and realizing she was getting nowhere, Applejack released her.
"He watched his work with muffled sighs.
And from the draught he too partook
So she would see with lover's eyes
His hungry form when she awoke."
Applejack noticed the clasp around Trixie's neck and followed it to the cloak behind her. It flapped slowly, even without a breeze. "Give me that," she said and grabbed the cloak with her other foreleg. It was warm, and it tickled her, as if each thread were moving on its own.
At the moment of contact, Trixie screeched and pulled away. Her sudden strength startled Applejack, and she let go. Trixie cradled the cloak in her hooves. "Don't touch us," she begged of Applejack.
"Ain't you a little old for the royal 'we', sugarcube?"
Trixie was shaking. "Don't touch us," she repeated.
"Applejack..." warned Spike.
Applejack advanced and cornered Trixie against the wall. "Now that your little nonsense babble is over with, I have some questions for you. Where are Rarity and Rainbow Dash?"
Trixie whimpered as she tried to straighten out the cloak. Applejack swung a leg beneath her neck, pushing her up against the wall. "Where are they?" she shouted, and Trixie winced and turned away from her assaulter.
"Stop it!" cried Spike. "You promised!"
"Come on, Spike! Do you really think that Nightmare Moon's giving our friends anywhere near the kindness we're giving Trixie? She's probably got them locked up someplace and has 'em hurting real bad, if she ain't got rid of them already. We got the high ground, not them, and so Trixie here is going to tell us how to save them before I show her exactly how much they mean to-" and Applejack was knocked into the ground by a claw larger than her body. She squirmed, trying to turn around onto her back and stare the now-enormous dragon in its eyes. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and it had a vacant gaze that made Applejack worry about how good she might taste.
"You have Trixie because I agreed to help you,” said Spike, his voice octaves lower and resonating off the narrow walls. “You are still alive because I agreed to help you. We do this on my terms."
Applejack nodded, and Spike removed his claw. "Be civil. Trixie will answer anything you ask her."
Trixie shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but Spike's angry eyes silenced her.
Applejack climbed to her hooves, checking her body for bruises. "Thank ye, Spike." She was feeling extremely conscious of the pair of unearthly eyes judging her. The dragon had shrunk again; he was now about Celestia's size, small enough to no longer be terrifying, but Applejack still was in no mood to test him. "Trixie.” She punctuated the name. “Where are my friends? Are they safe?"
Trixie's breath was labored; she almost seemed to be choking. "Please," she begged. "Don't do this."
"It's okay," said Spike, his comforting words ill-fitting with his deep voice. "She can't hurt you. We're making you do this. You don't have a choice."
The words sounded sour to Applejack, but they calmed Trixie. Her shoulders slumped and her head lowered. "Your allies are alive,” she said, sounding a little calmer, but not much. “Not unharmed, but alive. Nightmare knows that Rainbow Dash can open a gate between our world and yours. She wants to study that power and find another way across. A way that makes your Rainbow Dash disposable."
Applejack straightened her posture and stood over Trixie. "That ain't gonna happen. She won't lay a hoof on our friends if we can help it."
Trixie looked at up Applejack with pursed lips. "There are greater things at stake than Rainbow Dash. No one on your side knows you're here, or they would have tried to rescue you by now. Without Rainbow Dash, you're stranded. You have no way to warn your world that Nightmare Moon is trying to break through. She'll bring an army and catch the world by surprise."
"That ain’t gonna matter once we have Rainbow safe," said Applejack, barked like an order.
"Saving Rainbow Dash isn't going to stop her. You didn't see her when Orange said she’d been defeated in your world. She wants Celestia to suffer, and if she can hold a grudge for a thousand years, she can find another way through. What about Rainbow Dash’s twin?"
“Hey, Meanie Junior!” said Pinkie, who leapt up to her feet and pointed a hoof at Trixie. “Don’t bring Other-Dashie into this! She tried to stop Big Meanie at that school-place and so you guys got rid of her!”
Trixie mulled over this in a moment of silence, and then her lips curled upward. "You really think that Rainbow Dash is dead because she stood up to Nightmare?" The idea seemed to ignite a new fire in her. "You really have no clue what you're up against, do you? Ponies are always more useful to her alive than dead. After all, I tried to kill her once, and look at me."
Applejack's next question sputtered and died on her lips. "What was that? You tried to kill Nightmare Moon?"
Trixie forced a chuckle. "Oh dear. You really don't know anything, do you? When Nightmare returned, she came looking for followers. As your pink friend already told you, she visited the Buraq Flight Academy, Luna's old school for pegasi and recruited her Shadowbolts. But she also came knocking at the other two old schools, the Sleipnir School for Remarkable Earth Ponies and Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. None of them went quietly. She came to the unicorn school last, using the army she'd already amassed to take us down, but several of the students fought back. I was their leader. During the battle, I attempted to take her out but was captured instead. Instead of killing me, she put on a big show of promoting me to her second-in-command."
"Why on earth would she do that?" Spitfire interrupted.
Trixie paused long enough to glare at her. "Because death would be too quickly. So she gave me a title that looked like power but tasted like slavery. And she made me love it." Trixie pawed at the clasp of her cloak without looking at it. "I hated her for it, at first. I tried to fight it. I tried to fight her. But it kept getting harder, and then I realized that my heart just wasn't in it. And that... isn't that nice of her?" Her lips curled up in what might have passed for a smile. "It was so easy to just help her. It kept things level. I liked it level. Why did you take that from me?" Her voice softened, and she sounded pained.
"You oughta know we ain't just gonna keel over and let Nightmare Moon have her way with us," said Applejack.
"Why not?” Trixie’s question seemed genuine. She was too busy holding herself together to lie. “Why do you have to fight her?"
"You did once. You know why," said Spitfire.
Spike stepped between them and put his arm on Trixie's shoulder, but she glowered and shoved him away.
"It don't matter why we fight, Trixie. We're gonna bring back Celestia or die trying. If you don't want to help us, fine. But at least tell us what you know and give us a fighting chance. What about the Elements of Harmony? Where are they?" Applejack pulled the lone Element from her saddlebags and cradled it her hooves. "We found one of them, but the others were missing."
Trixie focused on the stone sphere, and she calmed a little. "You think we found the hiding place of the Elements and only took some of them? Do you think us fools?"
It was a decent question, thought Applejack, and one she hadn't considered. "Then what happened?" she asked. "Someone took the Elements and left this one. Who else could it be?"
Trixie glowered. "You are asking the wrong ponies. Had Nightmare's connection to the Elements not been severed, had she been able to sense them as she had planned, we would have already taken all of them."
"You took them," insisted Applejack. "There's no other explanation."
"Isn't there? Nightmare isn't the only one who would stand to gain from the Elements of Harmony." Trixie shrugged and refused to elaborate, but whether this was because she didn't know anything more or didn't care to share, Applejack wasn't sure. But she knew she wasn't going to learn much more of value.
They had just left Trixie behind in her cell and were minutes into discussing their next move when Trixie screamed, an anguished wail of pent-up frustration and loathing that bounced off the walls and rebounded on her.
Spike winced and tried to keep his breath steady. "Let me back in," he ordered. "I need to talk to her."
"That ain't happening," said Applejack. "We're keepin' her tied up and powerless, remember? We ain't waitin' on her hand and hoof."
Spike snorted, and Applejack watched the smoke trailing from his nostrils with a sickening curiosity. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because I know that if Trixie were in her right mind, she'd want me to. So if I'm going to hold the mare I love against her will, the least I can do is make her comfortable."
"Love?" asked Fluttershy.
Applejack balked as she realized that Spitfire, Pinkie, and Fluttershy were looking to her for direction. She wondered when she had become the leader of the group. "Was it true what she said in there? That she tried to kill Nightmare Moon?"
Spike nodded.
"There's a story there, ain't it? Somethin' real useful this time."
"Let me help her," repeated Spike. "Let me help her and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Try and stop me and the surrender's off." He leaned forward and grew, the front of him lunging without his feet ever leaving the floor. His face twisted from a plump youthfulness to one of weariness. "And you don't want that. Trust me."
Applejack swallowed hard. "Alright. Fluttershy? Keep an eye on Spike and Trixie. Make sure they don't try anything."
"Actually, I was thinking I should go meet, um, other-Fluttershy and check on, you know, our project?"
"Fair 'nuff. Pinkie, can you look after Spike? As for Spitfire, we kind of need to talk."
Time was up. Come clean or die.
###
Applejack needed a good reason to get Spitfire to stop watching Trixie and come back to the abandoned home they had purloined for sleeping in, and she figured that "a mirror image of one of my best friends wants to kill you" probably wasn't going to cut it. And there was an easy way to do that if Applejack didn’t mind playing with a vulnerable mare’s emotions.
She wasn’t much of a liar, but for Apple Bloom she’d try anything. So once the interrogation was over she took Spitfire outside and propositioned her. Spitfire had been surprisingly receptive to her advances. Applejack had more trouble convincing the surprisingly pent-up mare into moving somewhere more private.
"I'm sorry," said Spitfire between gasps for breath as the pair meandered back toward the home. "I really need this." Applejack chose to interpret that as a testament to Spitfire's shallowness.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Applejack stumbled over her words as she led Spitfire into the crumbling building. Given how bad of a liar she was, she wanted to keep words to a minimum. But she needed to keep her distracted and talking so that she didn't realize that her heart really wasn't in it. "You didn't have to do any of this. Risk your life, throw away your good standing with Nightmare Moon, all that for me."
"It wasn't for you, I promise," said Spitfire. "It's for Soarin. I'm not going to let him die as a powerless pawn of the Nightmare. He spent all his time, up to his dying breath, trying to convince me that I needed to fight back, so that's what I'm going to do. For him. And when we save the world I'm going to make sure the whole world knows it wouldn't have been possible without him.”
This glimpse into Spitfire's psyche made Applejack uncertain. Spitfire wasn't alone. She had the weight of a nation on her back, with the posthumous approval of one pony meaning more to her than all the rest of them combined. "You loved him?" asked Applejack. It was a lot to be admired, but Spitfire wasn't the only one fighting in the name of a pony she loved.
"Not that way," answered Spitfire. "I don't bend that way. And Soarin knew that, and he didn't care. He knew we were better than that. Is there a word for that sort of relationship? 'Love' gets watered down too easy."
Spitfire threw her life away for Soarin. Applejack was about to throw a whole world away for Apple Bloom. Could she really do that? Without Spitfire, their odds of finding the other Elements and their bearers were slim to none. But it was her fault that Applejack had to make the trade in the first place.
Besides, was this world really worth it? It wasn't going to get any better, and it couldn't get much worse. Could she throw away this Equestria's only hope of salvation to save her sister's life? Yes. Yes she could.
They were just through the door when Spitfire started nuzzling her again. "Not here," said Applejack quickly. "Upstairs."
Spitfire's eyes widened into marbles. Applejack pulled her up the stairs and into her bedroom, counting down the seconds until Spitfire figured out that this wasn't going to turn into alone time for them.
"Applejack?" the voice was of concern, confusion, but not betrayal. Not yet. That was sure to come later. "Applejack? What's going on?" It was more insistent now, and she turned to look at what was bothering her. There was a single shape in the bed, unmoving. She shoved Spitfire trying to get to the bed. "Is that..." began Spitfire.
"My sister. Yeah." Now that Applejack was closer, she could make out the rise and fall of Apple Bloom's chest. "She's breathing. Thank Celestia."
"Thank Celestia? Why are you relieved? Why would you think she... what is she doing here?"
"It's not right," murmured Applejack. "This isn't right. Where's Pinkie?"
Spitfire took a step away from Applejack. "What are you talking about, I thought you and I…"
"Where's Pinkie?" roared Applejack. "Find her."
"She's back with Trixie, we left her behind, we..."
"Not her. The other Pinkie,” Applejack barked as she pulled all the sheets off the bed and checked underneath the frame. “She was here. She was just here! Find her!" Applejack paced, scanning the room for something, anything, that would help her make sense of things. Pinkie had to be somewhere, she was somewhere and she was planning something...
The door slammed shut behind them.
Applejack turned on her heels, dashing back to the door. She tried to push it open, but something was blocking it from the other side. "Pinkie!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"
"An eye for an eye.” The voice from the other side of the door was flat, resigned. “I didn't get to say goodbye. Neither will you." Applejack felt her heart twist up. She motioned to Spitfire to stay still and silent as she looked over the doors hinges, trying to find the best place to buck it to break it down. Something itched at the back of her throat.
"You don't have to do this, Pinkie," said Applejack.
"My story's over, Applejack. So is yours. You and the Shadowbolt need to learn that other ponies don't give a damn about your problems. That's why we call them your. Fucking. Problems. So if you're going to have your hero complexes and your cowardice, you either keep it to yourself or you take responsibility for the people you hurt when you make them involved. You owed me your boyfriend, Shadowbolt, so I took him. Applejack owes me her sister, so I'm going to take that too. And then all three of us will have nothing left, our stories will end."
Applejack caught the pained look on Spirfire’s face. "Maybe," she said. "Or maybe you can still find something worth fighting for. What happened to Pumpkin wasn't fair. But she ain’t the only good person caught in all this. Ponies have starved. Appleloosa's abandoned. Cousin Braeburn's missing. Did you know that, Pinkie? Apparently he was hanging with some crowd that Nightmare didn't like, and he was dragged from his home and never seen again. Everywhere you go, ponies are hurting. We can't save Pumpkin, but we can save the other ponies like Pumpkin, the ones who have bright futures and don't deserve to have everything crushed in the name of some petty war. We're doing this for them, because one more pony that gets hurt because we couldn't stop it is another one on us. And you can help us. You know what they've been through. You know how they hurt. You know, more than anypony else, that they need our help because they can't do it alone."
Silence from behind the door. Applejack kicked out just below the hinges, trying to knock the door off of them. The door groaned and shook, but despite its age it stayed in place and didn't splinter. She tried again, and the thinnest of cracks formed along the direction of the grain. A third kick and the crack spread, the door rocking.
"Applejack," warned Spitfire. The sturdy earth pony ignored her, but she already felt her energy fading. She was out of breath, much sooner than she would have thought. Her throat burned. An acrid smell was gradually more noticeable. And then Applejack saw the smoke filtering in through the cracks around the door-frame. With a renewed vigor, she took once again to breaking the door down.
Spitifre dropped to the ground and crawled toward the window. The glass was thick enough to be nearly opaque, and a thin layer of black and yellow soot was beginning to form along the edges. She scanned the room for anything that could smash the window, but the room was spotless. She was starting to feel the heat now. She didn’t know how large the fire was, but the smoke coming from the cracks was only growing thicker. "Applejack!" she hissed. "Save your breath."
"I can do it," promised Applejack. "This place is a garbage heap." She threw another kick but staggered as it landed. Spitfire watched the cracks spread some more. Maybe Applejack could get the door down before she collapsed. But then what? If Pinkamena was really on the other side, just waiting for them all to die, they'd still need to get past her, down the stairs, and outside before the heat and smoke killed them.
"Your sister," she whispered. "What about your sister?"
Applejack hesitated, and then her legs hit the door weakly and slid back down. She climbed onto the bed, her legs feeling heavier than normal. She watched Apple Bloom sleep, curled up in a ball and oblivious to the danger going on around them. "Let her sleep," she decided. "She doesn't need to see this." But inside, Applejack's resolve hardened. "I'm not going to let her die, Spitfire," she announced. "We're going to find a way out of here." She rolled off her bed, but her legs gave out when she tried to land. Spitfire crawled to her side to help her get up, but she pushed her away. "Get Apple Bloom out of the bed. Away from the smoke." She hadn't faced too many fires before, but she was familiar with the common safety tips. Stay low. Don't breathe the smoke. Stay calm.
The door was still jammed. Whatever was blocking it, be it furniture or even just a death grip by Pinkamena, it wasn't budging. Applejack hadn't heard any sounds other sounds for a good while now, but she couldn't tell if Pinkamena had left or had succumbed to the smoke.
Spitfire pulled Apple Bloom out of the bed, cradled the unconscious filly, and watched Applejack crawl toward the window. She grabbed the window frame with her front legs and struggled to push herself up, raising her head up into the smoke. Her legs spasmed and she fell back down. Precious seconds passed, and Spitfire's expression soured with each moment that Applejack didn't pick herself back up. Just when she was ready to give up and close her eyes, when the seconds blurred together so that Spitfire could no longer tell them apart, she saw Applejack rise. With a single motion, carried forward more on momentum than any remaining fortitude, Applejack reared up and smashed the window with her front hooves.
The backdraft consumed Spitfire's world. As the oxygen surged into the room, the fire was finally visible, pouring through the cracks in the door to meet the fresh air halfway. Spitfire only had time to wrap herself protectively around Apple Bloom before everything was angry and bright. The flames surrounded her, and the heat didn't hurt as bad as she had imagined. She felt her skin blistering, and the smell of singed costcoat assaulted her like someone had jammed a screwdriver up her nose, but the pain was strangely different, like it was happening to someone else.
And then she was free. The flames faded away behind the veil of smoke that had descended over everything. Spitfire couldn't even see Apple Bloom beside her, but she could still feel the filly in her hooves. Applejack was gone, or maybe just hidden by the smoke.
What lingering consciousness she had warned her that she had probably had seconds to live. This was her punishment, she thought. Just like Soarin, she was paying the price for her obedience to the Nightmare Queen. She deserved this. At least maybe now she could finally apologize to him.
The filly in her arms coughed, wet dirty and ragged, and Spitfire mourned. Just like the other fillies. Right in front of her. Because of her. Her fault.
But it didn't have to be. If she was going to move on and meet her maker, maybe she could settle her score on earth first. She tried to stand, but her legs protested, sending icicles up her nerves and refusing to move. Grunting from the pain and exertion, she dragged Apple Bloom and her own useless legs in the direction she hoped the window was in. Every muscle she had was begging for her to give up, including several she didn't know could even hurt. She could feel her heart straining in her chest, and she wondered if it was on the verge of giving out.
She bumped against the wall. Taking one last deep breath and then instantly regretting it, she focused everything on lifting Apple Bloom and climbing out the window. Her hoof caught on the broken glass around the edges, cutting deeply into her wrist. Another leg gave out entirely, and she couldn't even feel it anymore. None of that really mattered as much as redemption. Forgiveness. She wasn't long for this world anyways.
The pair tumbled out of the window, landing on an awning and rolling down the side. Spitfire thought to open her wings, and the drag tore at them unbearably, but their descent slowed before they tumbled off the side and collapsed onto the ground.
Spitfire had done it. She'd done it, right? She checked on Apple Bloom, who to her utter amazement was still breathing. Not very well, as her breaths were short, labored, and separated by hacking fits, but that was better than nothing. She lifted the filly onto her back again and crawled away from the flames, trying to put as much distance between her and the burning building as she could.
Ahead of her, through a thin layer of smoke, Applejack had already beaten her outside. She had no idea how the farmpony was even conscious. She was missing her coat entirely in a large patch that ran down her neck and right side, and what remained didn't look like any skin Spitfire had ever seen. One of her front hooves was twisted at an impossible angle. And she was staring down a filthy bloody pony whose coat was streaked with so many colors Spitifre couldn't even begin to guess which ones it was supposed to be. The other pony seemed just as worse for wear, but moved without a limp, without even a hint of exhaustion. She had something sharp and reflective in her mouth, and Spitfire didn't have to make many guesses to figure out that it was a knife. The two ponies were shouting something, but it didn't even sound like language to her ears.
#
Silver Shield stepped out of the prison and watched the sky. He had told the others that he needed a breather. In actuality, he had decided that now was the perfect time to put a niggling feeling to rest by going stargazing.
The Ponyville Light hung nearly directly overhead. "And here you are," he muttered. "Aren't you supposed to be a day's ride east of here?"
The Light didn't respond, not that he expected it to. He wondered if it could even hear him.
"I know you can think," he told the Light. "You helped Twilight Sparkle get away from me. Would you have done that if you knew what she took from me?" He watched the light bob above him; it couldn't be more than ten yards above his head. “Maybe you do know what's she's done. It wasn't enough for you to save her out in Ponyville, so you're still trying to protect her from me here. And I can't begin to understand why."
"Silver?" The earth pony turned around and saw Spitfire watching him from a cloud. "Is there something you need to talk about? Talk to a real pony, I mean, and not just the stars?"
Silver Shield fixed her with a glare. "There was one thing that's been bugging me," he told her. "You knew that Trixie was an impostor, right from the start. Why was that? What would you have done if the real Twilight showed up instead, given my opinion of her? "
Spitfire felt frozen in place by Silver Shield's interrogation. As long as she was on the cloud, the earth pony wouldn't be able to reach her, but this didn't calm her much. "I don't know," she said. "Ask Applejack. It was her plan."
"Would you like to know my theory?" said Silver Shield. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I concluded there were only two possibilities. Either you had definite evidence that Twilight was dead, or you knew her to be alive. And then you told Trixie you knew she was dead, but you also told her you hadn't heard from her at all. One of those was a lie." He pointed a hoof at the Ponyville Light. "See this thing? It follows her. I don't know why, or how, but it does. It came to Ponyville when she did and protected her from me. Now it's in Appleloosa, and I think it's because she’s here too.”
Spitfire looked at the house where they were keeping Twilight and then at the prison, deciding who to warn first. He caught her gaze and followed her line of sight down the road. "Let me make myself crystal clear," he ordered. "Where is Twilight Sparkle? You can tell me now and save us a lot of trouble, or I can go kick down every door in this town until I find her, your choice. But tell me, Spitfire. When I find her, which choice is going to put me in a more amicable mood?"
#
"I’ve waited two years for this," Silver Shield told Twilight Sparkle,” and I don't want to wait a moment longer." He pulled a longsword from the scabbard on his back, and Twilight was hit by a rush of terror. "But I will." He balanced the sword in his mouth, but he made no move to use it.
Twilight's brain was sluggish from panic and a generous helping of sedatives. Either he was talking nonsense or she was just too slow to catch on.
"I want you to die," he explained. "But not like this. You're a wounded animal at worst and a martyr at best, and I'm not about to slaughter either. I’m not a killer like you. I want you to feel shame for what you’ve done, to understand that you deserve death."
Twilight tried to sit up, but the effort proved to be too much for her, and she fell back panting for breath. And for the first time in a good while, Twilight was afraid. Her fear perhaps even eclipsed any fear she felt when she had fought Nightmare Moon. Because against her, Twilight had been the hero.
She had never quite thought about it that way before. Fighting Nightmare Moon gave her a purpose and a destiny. It gave her a sense of control in an otherwise uncontrollable situation. Now she was a victim, dragged into the fight against her will. Fighting Nightmare Moon was a meaningful battle, but Silver Shield? In some twisted way, he was the hero, the one with a quest. She was just along for the ride.
Except that wasn't true at all, chided the voice in her head, the voice of bitter and inconvenient truths. After all, he's not wrong. You killed Stone Wall. This is your fault.
And if Silver Shield knew that she was already thinking that way, he would kill her.
The ride she was on was beyond her power to stop, but it hadn't always been. She remembered the encounter in the cave. Stone Wall had forced her hand with every emotional appeal she could muster. But all Twilight had to do was say no. Explain that she wasn't going to use a stranger as a guinea pig. She could have managed that, right?
She had been thrown by her determination, her odd sort of desperate devotion. Yet, she hadn't sensed much weakness from Stone Wall. Vulnerability, yes, but a self-acknowledged vulnerability. It was a trait of strength.
Which meant if she was running, then it was truly necessary. It was about something greater than her own safety. Her child, then. She was trying to protect her child, and the risks of an experimental journey were still less dangerous than whatever was waiting for her here. Something had terrified her so much she had feared for the life of her unborn foal. And she had risked both her own life and the life of her child to escape, because this world was not a safe place to be born into. And an inkling in her suggested that maybe, just maybe Stone Wall wasn't running from Nightmare Moon, but something even more dangerous.
She remembered the mural Silver Shield had painted in the library. The first time, she had seen it as a memorial driven by love and fond remembrances. Now she recognized it as ruthless obsession. And when the first target of his obsession fled, Silver Shield had found a second one in Twilight.
She wondered if she had the strength to pull off magic. She was exhausted, and she worried that whatever drugs she had been administered could interfere with her attempts. If she tried to pull a trick and succeeded, she could gain the upper hand, assuming that Silver Shield didn't disrupt the attempt with a painful kick to the horn.
"I've learned from our last encounter." He was relaxed now, speaking as if he were among friends. "I underestimated you. Just like Stone Wall underestimated you. She was too trusting. I was too lenient. And you used that against us." He scoffed. "She insisted on going unarmed. She turned her back to you because you had fooled her into believing you could stop the Nightmare Queen. She gave you every chance a pony could give. But she knew where you were hiding, and that made her a threat to your miserable little schemes. So you won her over, and once you figured out no one else knew where you were, you trapped her and used her as a guinea pig for your criminal experiments."
Twilight's mind conjured the image of Stone Wall going up in flames in front of her. A hot sweat broke out on Twilight as she felt the heat of an imaginary fire.
"You seem bothered," observed Silver Shield. "Feeling guilty?"
"I didn't use her," said Twilight with little conviction, almost a plea to Celestia that what she was saying was true. "I never wanted to hurt her."
She felt a blow to her ribcage as Silver Shield struck her, and she rolled away from the attack, almost falling out of the bed. "Pathetic," he said. "Still trying to play the victim. At least you're finally admitting it even happened."
"I swear," said Twilight, gasping for breath. "I was researching other worlds," she told him. There wasn’t much use in keeping secrets anymore. "Other places, far away from Equestria, where the sun still shines. Like none of it ever happened. Stone Wall asked me to take her there."
"Liar," spat Silver Shield. "I already heard this mirror-world hogwash. And even if it weren't something out of a foal's fantasy, I still wouldn't believe a word you say, because I know Stone Wall. We loved each other. She was my everything. We were going to raise a child together. And you're saying she left all that behind, left me behind, because my Stone Wall, my brave little soldier decided to be a coward. She would have come back for me, but you killed her."
Twilight tried to figure out the best way to reason with Silver Shield, but he seemed to have already made up his mind.
"Confess," came the order from the stallion.
"What?"
Another kick to the leg told her that this wasn't the right answer.
"Confess."
Twilight tried to pull her wits together. She was better than this. She was trained in magic that could bend the world in ways Silver Shield could only dream of, so why wasn't she using it? She needed to focus and pull something together. A shield. A teleport. Chains. Anything that could protect her. She had the knowledge and the power, but her headache (and ache in general) made it difficult to find. She wondered if this was somehow karma, payback for kidnapping the other her. For killing Stone Wall.
Still, even without magic, she could try and play by his rules. "Isn't coercion..." A jab at her windpipe interrupted her and she sputtered for a while before she could speak again. "Isn't a confession achieved by coercion not admissible in a court of Equestrian law?"
She hadn't taken just magic classes at the Academy.
Silver Shield hesitated, but then rained down another blow anyway. "Cheeky bastard," he swore to himself. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I am suggesting that you confess. I am also seconds away from sitting on your windpipe. The power's in your hooves, really."
Twilight was fairly certain that Silver's response wouldn't hold legal water, but she didn't know which precedent would prove that. So she switched to Plan B: screw the headache and magic her way to freedom. Her horn lit up, much duller than she was used to, and she ignored the pain that was now splitting her skull and focused on gathering strength into her horn.
Silver Shield huffed. "You can't fool me the same way twice," he said through clenched teeth. "That isn't going to work." He raised his front hoof and swung it down.
The sound of thunder echoed within the room, and it made Twilight want to hide her head somewhere far, far away from any sound, or light, or pressure. But as her vision slowly swam back into focus, she saw Silver Shield get knocked backward into the opposite wall.
Twilight struggled to climb out of bed. Staying in one place certainly wasn't going to do her any good. "You can't fool me the same way twice," she echoed. "After I got away from you last time I did some research. Violent responses to magical disruption are generally something unicorns learn to prevent. But wouldn't you know it, it's possible to induce them, too."
Still, Silver Shield was in better shape than she was. As soon as he was back up, she'd be in danger again. Her time was short. She needed to get out of here. She put her weight on the bed to carry herself past it to the door, and that's when she noticed the metal plate resting on the floor. The mirror she had left in the Everfree Forest when she had first crossed over, a month and a half ago. The mirror that Fluttershy had found and carried all the way to its current location, where she could reunite with it.
"I wasn't lying about the other world," she told Silver Shield, whom she noticed was already climbing back up onto his feet. "I can show you." She clambered over to the mirror and tapped the panel on its base. The column of light sprang up, and through it they saw the wall, the paint no longer faded or torn. A picture frame hung on the wall, depicting a family, a mother and father and their three young children, smiling brightly at the camera.
Silver Shield looked back and forth between Twilight and the shimmering screen, and he checked for any glow from her horn. "This is just another illusion, isn't it?" he demanded.
"I swear it's not." Twilight figured he wouldn't take that on faith alone. "You can move it, if you like. Look around. I swear to you, everything you're seeing is real."
The stallion approached the device carefully, and examined it from every angle while still remaining an entire body's length away from it. Satisfied, he reached out to touch it, and when it didn't explode or burn him, he finally lifted it up in a single hoof and moved around the room with it. He swung it slowly, exploring the image beyond. Twilight watched him for any signs of anger for frustration, but she still jumped when he dropped the mirror, which rang dully when it hit the floor. "Shit!" he cried, as if the device had suddenly become unbearably hot. "There are ponies there! Turn it off!"
Twilight rushed forward and pressed the panel, and the light disappeared, leaving them alone once again in the dark and worn house.
"Can they see us?" asked Silver Shield. "I swear the mare was looking right at me."
Twilight was inspecting the mirror for damage, but it appeared to be unharmed. "The spell creates a four-dimensional magnetic transform matrix that acts on the photons that pass through." She saw the blank stare on Silver Shield and remembered his lack of patience. "Yes, they could see us. It works both ways."
Silver Shield no longer looked angry. Just pensive. "And what did we look like to them? Just a floating window in midair?"
"Basically. But it's just an image. We can't climb through, and neither can they. I wish it were that easy."
"Are there any of these things over there?"
Twilight blinked. "Sorry?"
"These window things. Did you make any of them over there?"
"I don't think so." Twilight thought back on everything she had done during her brief stay in the sunlit world. " I turned a lake into one temporarily, but that would have worn off by now. So no, there aren't any mirrors sunside."
"Sunside?"
"I had to call it something." Twilight couldn't believe the stallion that had tried to kill her twice was now embarrassing her about what she chose to name the parallel universes she discovered.
"But no mirrors sunside? You're sure of it?"
"I'm sure now. Why do you ask?"
Silver Shield was silent. "No reason," he said at last. "Just a hunch. But if you're absolutely sure, then I guess that seals it." He pulled the mirror back toward him. "Do you mind if I keep this?" Given that the stallion was quite possibly currently making up his mind about whether he would kill Twilight, she didn't mind in the least, and she told him so. Satisfied, Silver Shield loaded it onto his back, but then he froze and looked behind Twilight at something she couldn't see. As she tried to turn to figure out what he was looking at, he leaped at her, drawing his sword in midair. He landed on top of her, the blade at her neck. "No movements," he told someone. "Stay back, right now."
Twilight tried to look up from the floor without moving her head. Eight yellow legs. The Fluttershys were getting along quite well. (Which wasn't that surprising.)
"Do as he says," she told them, and they obeyed her, each taking a couple extra steps back, just in case.
"Well, this complicates things," muttered Silver Shield through the sword handle, and Twilight was surprised he could enunciate clearly.
"Who is he, Twilight?" asked one of the Fluttershys. Twilight was too conscious of the sharp metal pressed against her neck to answer.
"We heard a loud noise, and we thought you fell," added the other. "What's going on?"
"Get out of the way," barked Silver Shield. "Get out of my way or I kill your friend."
"Do what he says," repeated Twilight. "Do whatever he says." She figured she didn't even need to tell them. Fluttershy must be scared out of her wits, frightened of the sword and frightened of the stallion who could easily overpower her.
"No."
What?
"Didn't you hear me?" roared Silver Shield. "Get out of my way!"
"And then you'll let her go?" asked one of the Fluttershys.
The other was less amicable. "Do you really think you can just use one of my best friends as a hostage? You really need to rethink some things, mister! I think you're going to let her go right now!"
Twilight really wished she could see more than just hooves.
Silver Shield was furious. "Don't meddle with things that have nothing to do with you. This is greater than any of you and has been a long time coming! Do you know who I am? I'm Silver Shield, Royal Private! My will is the will of Celestia! You will not interfere."
"I don't care who you are!" shouted one of the Fluttershys. But the other one seemed transfixed.
Did you say Silver Shield?"
Now it was Silver's turn to be confused. "You've heard of me?"
There was a rustling sound, which Twilight suspected was one of the Fluttershys digging through her saddlebags. "I have a letter for you."
Twilight officially lost track of what was going on. Silver Shield seemed to have finally run out of words to say. "Zecora gave it to me," explained a Fluttershy. "I had no idea who you were, but she made me promise to deliver it. I really didn't think you would be such a bad guy though."
"Who in blazes is Zecora? Give it to me," said Silver Shield, in a voice that tried to make absolutely clear he was done playing games.
"Let her go." There was absolutely no hesitance or fear in Fluttershy.
Twilight still couldn't see anything. For all she knew, Silver was about to take them all out in a blaze of glory. But after a few seconds of torturous silence, Twilight dropped to the floor. She rolled over and saw Silver taking a plain envelope from Fluttershy, the winged Fluttershy that despite the disparate memories at war in her mind, seemed to be "hers."
This was her chance. Silver was distracted, and the adrenaline rush had come full force, giving her the strength and focus to push past her pain. Twilight knew off the top of her head at least a dozen ways to kill Silver Shield on the spot, and at least as many to incapacitate him, should her two identical friends not approve. Her horn lit up with magical potential, but she felt a gentle hoof on her shoulder, and when she turned to look the wingless Fluttershy was shaking her head, her eyes warm and gentle but still condemning. The magic on her horn sputtered and died.
Silver opened the letter and read it in silence. When he finished, he glared at Twilight. "This isn't over," he warned her. "When I come back, we're going to finish this."
"You are not going to touch Twilight ever again," insisted Fluttershy.
"I wouldn't dream of it. After all, we need each other now. She needs me to not kill her. And I need her to take me to the other side. Stone Wall had the right idea. An escape, a get out of Nightmare free card, who wouldn't want it? And if this world is real, then I want it too. And for your sakes, you're going to help me." He back stepped toward the door, and they let him. Once he was a silhouette in the door-frame, he turned and vanished into the eternal night.
The relief of safety was bliss to Twilight. But as she became aware of the Fluttershys watching her with some mix of concern and pity, she found the strength to stand.
Both Fluttershys grinned and produced an adorable squeaking sound. They bumped their hooves together, celebrating their success. Their enthusiasm rubbed off on Twilight, who felt her strength return and the headache ebb, if only slightly.
Twilight felt humbled in front of her rescuers. "You were right, Fluttershy. I'm not your Twilight. But I'm not this world's Twilight either. I'm something new, I guess, a clean slate. But I want to prove to you that I'm everything your Twilight was and more, that new memories can only make me stronger. And that means no more lying around letting you fight my fight. I got us into this. I broke into your world and dragged you into my problems. But no more. It's time for me to take charge of my own destiny."
The house shook from the shockwaves of an explosion outside. Twilight braced herself and managed to not fall over.
The two Fluttershys skitted nervously, exchanging their various "Oh my"s.
"Come on, girls. Let's go." Refreshed and renewed, Twilight galloped off.
The winged Fluttershy watched her charge into the fray, and she smiled softly. This was the Twilight she remembered.
###
Twilight met Pinkie first. She had to bank to avoid the bouncing ball of pink, and she still clipped her, sending the pair tumbling.
Pinkie gasped, her face filling with unbridled joy, and she hugged her tightly. "You're alive!" she shouted. "Twilight's alive!"
"You already knew that, Pinkie! We planned this together!"
"I know that, silly. But this way I get to be super duper happy every time I see you!"
Twilight muttered something incomprehensible and pushed Pinkie off of her. "What happened? There was a bang, and some shaking and..." Twilight followed Pinkie's pointing hoof to the burning building. Silhouetted by the wavering flames, two ponies were exchanging blows. One of them glowed a dull pink in the firelight.
"That's me!" shouted Pinkie. "I always wanted to meet other me!" She stopped when her twin saw her and snarled. "I don't like other me. She's scary."
###
Trixie could hear the cries and the explosions. Something was happening, far away from her. Her captors were distracted.
But it didn’t matter. Without her magic there wasn't anything she could do. She had always prided herself on her magic, but without it, she was useless.
A glint of green and purple slipped through the crack under the door, expanding back to about pony height. Spike grabbed the ropes binding Trixie with one clawed hand and sliced through them with the other.
"Come on," he told her. "We're getting out of here before they come back."
Trixie didn’t move. "You betrayed me," she murmured.
Spike staggered backwards. "Oh, no," he said. "Not you. Never you."
"We had them and you sold me out to the enemy! You said you would always have my back, and you betrayed me!"
Spike motioned with his hands for her to quiet down. "I didn't betray you," he told her. "Do you remember, when this all started? You were afraid you were losing yourself to her orders, to her voices, to that thing she makes you wear around your neck. And you made me promise that no matter what, I wouldn't let her kill your spirit.” His voice softened as regret crept in. “I couldn't keep that promise. But you also made me promise to remember the pony you used to be. So brave and selfless. And how could I ever forget? You were a hero once, remember?"
Trixie shook her head, trying to blink away the tears. Thinking too hard about before was never worth it. It reminded her that she was supposed to hate Nightmare. "I don't remember," she said. She grabbed his shoulders and buried her head between them. "I want things to be level again. I want them to be easy."
"The things worth fighting for are never easy." He held her as long as he dared, but the clock was running out. He focused and let a calmness surround them. He breathed in, and then exhaled a green flame that wreathed them. Trixie felt it cover her, but it didn't hurt.
"We're going back to the castle?" she asked as the fire ate them away to nearly nothing.
"No. We're not going back there ever again."
The fire was back in Trixie's eyes. "Traitor!"
"We're going someplace where Nightmare won't find us. We're done."
The flames swallowed them, then turned in and consumed themselves. Nothing remained but a thin layer of ash on the floor.
###
"What are you doing?" Pinkie's voice was squeaky and weak, as if some pony had let all the air out of a balloon.
Pinkamena drove her hoof into Applejack's gut, winding her. "Avenging my daughter. Any questions?"
Pinkie shook. Her own body and face was attacking Applejack, and even if Pinkie tried to kid herself, she could imagine all too easily that she was the one doing it, or wasn't she? This didn't seem like something any version of her might do, but there she was. "But why?" she asked.
"Why am I avenging the only pony who ever mattered to me, who was slaughtered by this discussing cretin? Or why are you talking instead of trying to help? You must not care that badly about this, one way or the other."
“But she's our friend!"
Her flat-haired counterpart turned, dragging Applejack on the ground like a life-sized rag-doll. "Of course she's your friend. Who isn't your friend? Is there any pony disgusting enough that even you won't sing praise to their tiniest glimmer of compassion?"
Pinkie took several steps back, but it failed to calm her. "You're me. What happened to you?"
"I grew up and learned to face my problems like a full-grown mare. But you wouldn't know what that's like. Twilight told me all about Pinkie the immature, Pinkie the blissfully ignorant, who doesn't understand that real ponies face consequences for their decisions and have grown up problems and things worth caring about enough to not just shut them out and pretend they don't exist. I mean, Gods, I barely understand how you do it. You're me. We have the same scars. So why did I survive them when you... what the hell are you, really?" Pinkamena drew the knife, this time pointing it at her twin. "Is this your coping mechanism or something? By acting like a child? Does this earn you sympathy from your friends for not being able to take care of yourself? Or are you just dumb?"
Pinkie winced and drew back with each accusation. Her eyes watered, and Pinkamena groaned.
“She’s not dumb, now drop the knife," said Twilight. She wasn't sure if her magic was back up to snuff yet or not, but she could still probably disarm her.
Pinkamena pouted. "Come on, Twilight. Don't I deserve to get to know how I could have turned out? Doesn't she deserve it?" Her gait was lopsided, off balance. She teetered around Pinkie, seeing her from every angle. "I read somewhere that when you die you get to meet the pony you could have been." She even sniffed her twin, for good measure. "I'm not impressed."
"Hey! Where do you get off saying things like that about me... you... myself?" Pinkie tried to act angry, but her voice wavered.
Twilight tried to pull the knife out of Pinkamena's grasp with her magic, but she tightened her grip and held on, glaring at the intruder and hissing.
"I told Twilight you sounded happy,” said Pinkamena. “But I didn't know what I was talking about. You're all hollow inside."
"You just met me!" cried Pinkie.
"And that's all I need. Look at you. You're just happy to be alive, to have ponies who won't say things you don't want to hear. You don't know what it's like to hurt. You never lost true love because you've never had it to begin with. You never had Pumpkin, did you?”
"Who?"
"See? You have no business telling me what to do with my life. Without her I'd be like you, nothing. And I'm never going to see her again, and you can't even understand what that's like."
Pinkie could feel her bitterness and anguish and sorrow, and it brought her to her knees. "I do..." she said, choking back something in her throat. “I promise I do…”
Pinkamena kicked Pinkie in the jaw, and she toppled over. Twilight rushed to her aid, and Pinkamena turned back to Applejack, who was once again standing.
Pinkamena, in her dirty coat and long clumpy mane, screamed a guttural, unintelligible cry of rage. She lunged, but Applejack leaped out of harm’s way, landing awkwardly on her hooves and stumbling. Pinkamena was quick on the rebound, charging at the still-recovering farmpony. Applejack battered away the swinging hoof as it came, managing to get up on her hooves again while Pinkamena got her balance back. Applejack was holding her own, but each dodge, parry, or counterattack was slower, less coordinated than the one before it, while Pinkamena was driven into a greater frenzy.
Applejack rushed the ghostly mirror image of her friend, swinging a right hook at the hoof with the knife. Instead, Pinkamena sidestepped the attack and tripped her, and Applejack tumbled.
"No more," commanded Pinkamena as she brought the knife to bear.
Spitfire crawled out of the shadows toward the dueling mares. Maybe bringing Apple Bloom out of the fire wasn't enough for her peace and redemption. She would just have to keep trying.
She remembered she used to be strong. She was a leader and a commander, because she could take it. Flying through a lightning storm was simple. The judging gaze of a crowd of thousands? The lived for that, or she used to. When did she become so tired? Was the old her just gone, leaving a weak and fragile shell to fend for herself? She used to be a symbol. Now she was a mare.
The years of the Nightmare had worn her down, ground her into dust. She'd allowed herself to become a spineless puppet. She wasn't going to deny responsibility for what she’d done. But she was not evil. Broken, callous, and destructive, but not evil. And this was her chnce to prove it.
The ground was torn out from beneath Pinkamena's feet she could land her killing blow. She twisted about, trying to figure out where the earth had gone. Spitfire adjusted her grip on the earth pony and flew up, leaving a bewildered Applejack behind.
They were beginning to attract a crowd. From her new vantage point, she saw both Fluttershys racing toward the commotion. And behind them, Twilight Sparkle limped in close pursuit. But they were stories above the buildings now, safely out of reach but far from safe.
Pinkamena struggled against the grip, the knife coming dangerously close to Spitfire. "Coward, cretin, murderer," the pink mare began rattling off a list of swears.
"Don't threaten me where you can't stand."
Pinkamena refused to crack. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Drop the knife. Drop it or I drop you."
She rushed to Applejack's side, ignoring the pounding in her head. This was what happened when she wasn't keeping tabs on everything. Lying in bed because of a headache wasn't helping anyone. "What happened?" She tried to stay calm while she asked, but she was breathing far too quickly for that.
"Apple Bloom. Is she okay?" said Applejack.
"Your sister's here?" She looked across the street and saw the twin yellow pegasi tending to her and Spitfire. "She's fine Applejack. She's going to be fine, and so are you. What happened?" Applejack weakly raised a hoof and pointed up in the sky.
###
Above the commotion, Pinkamena remained passive as ever.
"I said, drop the knife," ordered Spitfire.
"So you can kill me like you killed my daughter?" Pinkamena drew a little bit of satisfaction when she saw Spitfire wince.
"I never should have harmed your daughter. I made a mistake." Spitfire knew there was no way to convince her she meant it.
"Yes," agreed Pinkamena. "Yes you did." And she drove the knife into Spitfire's side, pushing the blade through her wing and twisting it into her side.
For a moment Spitfire hung, defying gravity, as she watched her own blood run down the knife.
And then the pair fell. Twilight watched them plummet back to earth. She wanted to mute out the sound of the impact, but she felt it move through her like a shockwave. She could see the knife sticking up in the air like a flag.
The knife wavered as Twilight's vision blurred, everything becoming awash in a sea of light. Her breathing steadied as a cold and calculated anger came over her.
Light streamed from her horn, shooting off in sparks and spiraling wisps. Twilight walked slowly, stopping in front of the broken pair of bodies. A glowing mist descended on all of them, so bright that Applejack had to close her eyes. When she was able to look back, Appleloosa was gone.
###
Twilight had never felt so angry before. She landed near the edge of the Everfree Forest where Rarity and Pinkamena had set up two small gravestones. How she knew where this was, she had no idea. Applejack had told her about it, but it was instinct of some unknowable nature that brought her here. She placed Spitfire and Pinkamena beside them, and at her will the ground liquefied and consumed them. Pinkamena deserved to be with her daughter, at least.
Someone, somewhere, was going to pay for this. Somepony had to be responsible. Twilight had half a mind to take the battle to Nightmare Moon's front door. Forget the alternate selves. Forget the Elements of Harmony. She didn't know why she'd been going along with that plan to begin with. This was time for a good old fashioned one on one fight. Wasn't that how epic wars were supposed to end?
She levitated off the ground, preparing to chart her way to Canterlot. She wouldn't teleport. No, she didn't want Nightmare Moon to be surprised when she arrived. She wanted to create a trail of destruction that would give that monster just enough time to wet herself in terror before she arrived to finish her. But her warpath was interrupted before it began by the unicorn that was floating in front of her, blocking her path. Violet coat. Flowing mane. Hooded cloak. Twilight recognized her, but this was the first time they had met physically.
Nightmare Moon wasn't the only one responsible for this suffering. Stargazer had her hand in it as well.
"You!" screamed Twilight. She accelerated herself into the other pony and knocked them both to the ground, where she pinned her to the ground. "Why did you do this?"
She had trouble reading Stargazer's blank expression. Remorseful? Wearied? Twilight would have to push harder. "You told Pinkie 'The sunlight can reach where the sun cannot?' Those words gave the other me the idea to fly to the poles in search of Celestia. Those words killed her! Those words ruined everything!"
Stargazer refused to make eye contact. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way," she muttered. "She wasn't supposed to die like that."
"What were they supposed to mean?" demanded Twilight, lifting the older mare with her magic. "What did the other me throw her life away for?" She didn't hear an answer, so she shook the other mare. "Well?"
"I don't know!" squealed Stargazer. Twilight nearly dropped her.
"What?"
"I see things. Futures. And I knew that if I told her those things, everything would work out."
Twilight threw her to the floor. "Does this look like working out to you? You killed everyone! We can't even ask the other world's Celestia for help because we don't have Rainbow Dash. This is not working out."
"I don't know what went wrong," moaned Stargazer. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You have to trust me!"
"Trust you? Give me one good reason why I should trust you." Twilight felt like she was going to explode. She could feel the magic sparking at the end of her horn again.
Stargazer raised her hooves to cover her face. “My cutie mark,” she said. “Look at my cutie mark. Then you'll see."
Twilight lifted the cloak off of Stargazer, who squirmed but didn't protest. The first thing she noticed was the wings. Large pegasus wings had been tucked beneath the cloak. "You're an alicorn," Twilight breathed.
Stargazer nodded. "My cutie mark," she said. "Look it at. Look at it and you'll know I'm telling the truth."
Twilight yanked on the alicorn with her magic, bringing her around so that her cutie mark was fully visible. And she froze. It was impossible. It had to be a trick. She thought back, trying to remember if she'd seen that cutie mark anywhere else before. But here it was. The six pointed star and the five stars circling it stared back at her.
"Now you have to trust me, Twilight Sparkle," repeated the mare whose name was definitely not Stargazer. "You have to trust me because I'm you."