I wake in a cold sweat. Something's wrong.
I hold my breath and listen—a habit I picked up in the war. I hear nothing but the crickets outside my window. Still, there's a quiet, nagging sense of dread that doesn't seem to want to leave. I climb out of bed and set off through the castle at a brisk trot. I wish I could say it's to stretch my legs, but the truth is I feel like something horrible is following me.
The dream was a memory, as clear as if I were living it. As I pace the silent halls, I remember more of that night. While my parents and I walked home from the theatre, Dad talked about what the hero saw in his hallucinations. Moloch was a god of the ancient Canaanites, who could only be appeased by sacrifices of great value.
Well, why not? If we humans... I mean, if humans knew about unicorns, pegasi, gryphons and so on, why wouldn't they be right about old gods too?
Had Moloch visited my home world thousands of years ago?
I head for the balcony of the castle's tallest tower. I need some air.
A few minutes later, as I step out into the clear, moonlit night, I'm struck by the vividness of everything around me: Ponyville, the forests, the fields stretching on for miles, the distant lights of Canterlot. I remember them, but somehow feel like I'm seeing them for the first time.
Tomorrow, this might all be gone.
My thoughts are interrupted by a hissing voice that makes my flesh crawl: "It seems my master will be appeased."
I turn to see a familiar creature hovering above the parapet. It's man-shaped, but vaguely. Its four broad wings waft a smell of rotting meat all around it as it hovers in midair. The overly large head is something like a lion, a man, and a dog all in one. Its feet are eagles' talons, and it has scales instead of skin. Behind it trails a long segmented tail with a curved barb at the end. Nearly ten days ago, I met this thing in Celestia's court.
"Pazu. Harbinger of Moloch." I'm barely able to keep my voice calm.
"So they have told you of me," Pazu says. "It is good. You understand what must be done."
I set my teeth, trying to channel my fear into an expression of defiance. "Yes, if you mean destroying anything that threatens Equestria."
"Surely you jest," Pazu says. "The immortals wisely agreed to Moloch's terms when I brought them."
What?
"I was there," I say. "I think I would remember that."
"What foolishness is this?" Pazu bares its teeth, clearly annoyed. "We have never met. If this is some deception, it is a poor one."
"I was thinking the same thing," I say.
Pazu hisses and leans forward. "If you were present, you would know the truth I bring."
"I remember what you said, if that's what you mean."
"Tell me, then—what did I say about my master?"
I put on a face that's half smile, half sneer. "That he destroys whole worlds..."
"He can unmake them with his power. Yes."
"But he can be 'appeased'..."
"How?" Pazu must hear the contempt in my voice, because it hovers closer and stares directly into my eyes. It must be hoping I'll flinch. If I do, it will be more from its festering breath than anything else.
"With sacrifices," I manage to say.
"And what sacrifices are these?"
"You know damn well." I want to turn away and leave, but this might be taken as a sign of weakness.
"Had I forgotten, what would you say?" Pazu's tone grows more insistent by the second.
"A sacrifice of ten thousand children." At this point, I can't keep a disgusted expression from creeping onto my face.
"Yes. Or, failing that?"
"One hundred thousand adults."
"And failing that?"
I can't help blinking in surprise at this. Damn it—Pazu's thrown me off. "There was nothing after that," I say, hoping my blunt tone will show it that I'm not beaten.
To my surprise, Pazu throws itself back through the air, its fists and head raised in triumph. The monster's peal of laughter is like broken glass between two millstones. "Fool! You were not there! You would surely have remembered!"
The feeling of unease returns. Something is wrong here, besides the company. "Remembered what?" I say, though part of me is afraid to know.
"Five immortals! With a sacrifice of five immortals, my master allows this world to live!"
It must be lying—playing games with my head. "Then why did you just kill Discord," I say, "instead of taking him as one of the sacrifices?"
"A god may destroy a god, but he may not be sacrificed to one. This too you would have learned, had we met before. The smallest of your immortals asked the same question. But enough of this." Pazu beats its wings harder, rising into the air. "There is a fifth sacrifice. Tell the others to prepare themselves, for the time draws near." It turns to one side, and appears to fold in on itself as it bends the space around itself, moving from one reality to another. In an instant, the putrid smell is all that remains.
I stare into the space the monster left behind, and though the night is mild, I feel cold. Pazu's version of events, and my own, can't both be right. And yet, whether it has its sacrifices or not, what reason could Pazu have to lie to me?
I dreamed about the past last night and tonight. Is my own soul trying to tell me something?
If Pazu were right, wouldn't there be evidence?
Something occurs to me. It starts as a quiet, nagging murmur in the back of my mind, slowly growing louder. It's horrible, and I unsuccessfully try to push it away. If there's even the least possibility that it's right...
I have to know. I turn and hurry back down the tower stairs.
We all keep our Elements close at hand. Mine is in a safe behind a painting in my bedroom. Taking it out, I bring it to my bedside table and examine it under the small reading lamp there. The gem is clear and flawless, but looks no different from any other stones Rarity finds in the dirt.
In fact, it looks exactly like them.
The Elements' physical forms are too hard to break for most things short of alicorn magic. I put the Element of Courage on the floor and press down on it with a forehoof—tentatively at first, then with more and more weight, until I'm balancing with one foreleg on the gem and one hind leg on the floor.
Under my weight, the Element cracks and splinters into a dozen shards.
For a long moment, I stare at the remains, dumbfounded. At last, I hear a voice: my own, thinking out loud. "But I used this Element... when I helped the others defeat Tirek."
No. I didn't.
I leave the broken remains where they lay, and head back to the library, stepping quietly and moving in shadows as much I can.
I find the Encyclopedia of Magic, and open it to "M." I know there's no entry for "Moloch."
I'm looking for "Memory Spells."
* * *
It takes only a few seconds for Celestia to answer when I hammer on the door to the guest room, but it seems a damnably longer time. I leave her no time to speak. With a snort, I throw the Encyclopedia—open to a certain page—down at her hooves.
Her eyes skim over the entry for a moment before meeting my gaze. "What, may I ask, brings you to this?" She speaks a little more delicately than usual.
"How long have I really been in Equestria, Princess?"
She stands silent for a moment, and I wonder if she'll deny everything. But she closes her eyes, bows her head a little, and says, "five days."
"So it was all a lie." I'm not sure if the quiver in my voice is from anger or sadness. "I haven't started a new life here. Rarity isn't my fiancee. You've all just been pretending to be my friends. I suppose even the Elements of Harmony were fictional."
“They are real,” Celestia says, “but there can never be more than six.” Somehow, she is able to look me in the face again. "Please understand, it hurt all of us to do this. But believe me when I say we had no choice." There seems to be genuine sorrow in her expression. Not that it matters now.
"But why, damn it? Why go to all this trouble? Why trick me into thinking I've been here for years? Was it... was it so I would be ready to give my life?"
"Partially," Celestia says. "It is true that Moloch may be appeased by a sacrifice of five immortals..."
"If you had told me the truth," I say, interrupting, "I would have volunteered to help you when you brought me here."
"It wouldn't have worked." Her tone is insistent now. "When Pazu appeared in our court, it said something else. Regardless of the types of sacrifices Moloch is given, each one must involve someone giving up a very dear thing. The other alicorns and I are ready to give our lives for this world, should it come to that. But your life in your home world was already over, and you had nothing left. Even if you sacrificed the new body we gave you, it would not be accepted."
"What could be worth more than a second chance at life?" I say.
"Many things. Innocence. Happiness. Memories of better times."
At last, the final pieces fit together in my mind. "You gave me false memories, so when I gave my life..."
"...You would be giving up something truly dear to you. Though it makes little difference now, know that I am truly sorry."
Little difference? It makes no difference at all. "And now that I know the truth..." I say, "your plan won't work."
Celestia nods—slowly, with every movement seeming to drain her strength a little more.
"You know, in a way, it serves you right for deceiving me." Deep down, I know it's heartless of me to say this, but I feel it needs to be said. "And you didn't even do a good job. It would have made more sense for me to be engaged to Fluttershy, since she spent more time with me than anyone else when I was being turned into this." I flex my wings and gesture at myself with a forehoof. "Not to mention, I’m not even shell-shocked from the war. That should have been my first clue."
"Please understand," Celestia says, "what we have done is against everything the royal family has always stood for. But we had no choice."
No choice? Of course, she would say that even if they did have one.
"There is something more important," she says. "Though the things you remember did not happen, they hold many truths. The Equestria you remember living in was as real as we could make. It is as beautiful and full of love as you know. This I swear.
"But time is short, and now we have only one chance. There is no sacrifice, so we must fight. It is unlikely we will prevail, but there is still a slight chance. Will you help us—please?"
Even after all that's just happened, I'm shocked by the audacity of the question. Help the people who did this to me? Who worked together to deceive me, so I could be the last piece of an offering? And... God! Is it even true that Celestia and the other alicorns are ready to sacrifice themselves, or is there more she hasn't told me? Are there four other hapless dupes somewhere, who haven't found out the truth?
She's looking at me steadily—expectantly. She thinks she already knows my answer. But I still have a choice.
"No." The word is spoken quietly, but seems to echo in the spartan castle hall. In any memories, real or otherwise, I've never seen Celestia flinch or be struck silent, but I see it now.
"Why?" she says at last. I hear pain in her voice, but I don't trust it to be real.
"As I said, I might have helped before." With each word, I find my resolve gathering strength. "But now, I can't trust anything. For all I know, everything you've just said is a lie. I've had enough. Goodbye, Celestia." I turn away, and head for the nearest window.
"Wait!" She takes a few steps after me, and her voice cracks with desperation. "If Moloch is not stopped, every living thing will die, including you!"
By now, I've climbed onto the windowsill and braced for takeoff. I don't care to look back at her as I answer. "I died in the war."
With that, I launch myself into the darkness.