Lyra directed a curious glance up, staring at the ringing doorbell. She then peeked behind her, catching one final glimpse of the windigo that remained on the street.
Hate to leave you out here like a bad dog, but Axiom doesn't get along with you, so...
"Welcome to the Sugarcube!"
"Haha, thanks. I-" Lyra giggled. She then returned her eyes to the front - and forgot what she had been wanting to say.
She had been greeted by Twilight Sparkle of all ponies. That didn't do much good for Lyra's mental balance - not to mention her focus.
Wha- uh- what-
Standing some six steps away from the pony she had personally made disappear, Lyra's brain completely seized up. It just didn't seem possible, having Twilight greet her in the Sugarcube of all places. It was like a bad dream. No - it had to be a bad dream.
There's no way this isn't a bad dream! Lyra grinned wildly and broke into a loud cackle.
"Ardent! Are you weirding out customers again?!"
Both Twilight and Lyra turned to the counter, where Pinkie was emerging behind the pastry-packed display.
"You'll never make a good entrepreneur if you make all the clients run away screaming," Pinkie pointed a hoof at the purple ex-student.
"But I'm not an entrepreneur - I'm an adventurer!" Twilight whined and collapsed, throwing her back against a table. "I'm not even sure how I wound up as a janitor in the first place!"
Still in the doorway, Lyra observed the exchange with her mouth hanging wide open.
What the heck is going on here?!
"Ardent Dawn." Lyra echoed the name in a hushed tone. Truth be told, it was a pretty nice name. She liked the sound of it. She cocked her head to the side, staring at the purple unicorn who was sweeping the floor.
"Has a ring to it, doesn't it? All sorts of poetic and stuff." Pinkie giggled, her gaze also on the same pony. "You know, with dawn being the counterpart to twilight and all that."
Pulling her mouth to an aloof grin, Lyra nodded lightly. She could have given Pinkie the praise the baker obviously longed for - were she in the same jubilant mood.
She wasn't.
"Why is she here?" she wrinkled her eyebrows.
Pinkie lifted her head from the counter - only barely, just enough so she could turn her eyes to Lyra.
"Well, where else could she be?" she asked with honest curiosity on her face.
Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and hummed. She had never given that aspect much thought. She had only agreed with Pinkie in the most generic outlines - basically that she'd send the amnesiac Twilight to the Sugarcube. Anything after that point was up to the crazy baker.
Truth be told, Lyra had never once considered just where Twilight could go after she stopped being Twilight.
What an epic screw-up, Lyra chuckled darkly and buried her face in her hooves. Here she was, the self-appointed saviour of Equestria, already making plans to seize Canterlot and all the servants within! ...and yet, she still kept failing to get all the basic details right.
No matter what she was doing, she was still ruining lives at every turn.
"Anyway, I figured that if Twi' were to live under somepony else's roof, then she might as well live under mine." Pinkie got off the counter, then lowered her head to the line of pastries behind the glass. "I mean, this roof is quality work! Guaranteed to last a few generations... unless the monster of the week blows it up, heh."
Lyra reflexively cast a glance upwards. Indeed, the ceiling looked pretty sturdy, with waist-thick crossbeams running from wall to wall.
"So you just wanted to keep her close?" she mused out loud. "Didn't that strike you as... uh..."
"Generous?" Pinkie wiggled her eyebrows. "Entertaining?!"
"Stupid." Lyra shook her head. "Dangerously stupid, I mean."
"Well, how about complaining before you dumped this responsibility on me?" Pinkie muttered. She didn't seem very upset - certainly not upset enough to even pause doing her work. She was righting a price tag even as she spoke. "I mean - I'm just a silly baker, cluelessly assuming that nopony could recognise Twi' anymore!"
"Yeah, okay, I did erase Twilight Sparkle." Lyra looked away with frown. "But that doesn't mean that you HAVE to push your luck. What if somepony recognised her?!"
Pinkie finally gave the counter a rest. She pulled her hoof out of the display and turned to Lyra, a completely shocked expression on her face.
"Wait. You say there's a pony who could still recognise her?" Pinkie cocked her head to the side. She started looking a little creepy - she was staring so intently that she didn't even blink.
Her mouth twisting in anger, Lyra rose her hoof passionately.
"Everypony knew Twilight Sparkle! Every- uh-"
She faltered, her uncertainty signified by how her hoof dropped towards the ground. Indeed - nopony could have remembered Twilight. Not even the servant, two exceptions aside.
"Teehee, thought so!" Pinkie rubbed her hooves together with a giggle. "You are the silly one! Ardent Dawn could parade straight into Canterlot and nopony but us could tell the trick."
Laying limp against the wooden base of the counter, Lyra rubbed her numb face and wondered if it was normal to be outsmarted by a baker of all ponies.
"But why the fake persona?" she asked aloofly, her glassy stare resting on the floor. "I... kind of assumed that you'd just return her to normal and tell her to lie low."
She didn't say, but she had always assumed that's what a friend would have done. Which made the surprise of the new Twilight all the more shocking.
"Normal..." Pinkie raised an eyebrow, then motioned at the purple unicorn in the distant end of the Sugarcube. "Do you mean there's something off about Ardent?"
"Uh... yeah?" Lyra rubbed her head. For a split-second, she wondered whether this was a trick question - but she only had the same answer even if it was. "She's not Ardent Dawn, for example. Because Ardent Dawn... well, that pony has never existed. Not until you invented her."
Pinkie hummed at the complaint, then folded her front legs on her chest.
"Well, show me the rule that the fake can't beat the original!" she groaned and rubbed her forehead. "I mean, those Daring Do novels are a big thing for good reasons, right?"
"You made Twilight think that she's a bucking Daring Do?!" Lyra sprang to her hooves, shrieking so loudly that even the purple unicorn stared in her direction. "WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! That's- that's wrong on so many levels-!"
"Pfuh-lease. I could have done worse." Pinkie waved a hoof in utter dismissal. "I could have made her think that she's the student of Celestia... or that she's the sister of Shining Armour! Or that she had lived here for years, becoming a close friend of ours. You know, really outlandish fantasies like those."
Standing like a pony who had been doused with boiling water, Lyra drooped her ears and took a faltering step backwards. That thrice-darned baker was right, of course; even worse yet, everything she said was so blindingly obvious that Lyra felt dumbstruck that she hadn't realised earlier.
"Only a raving lunatic would claim such things," Pinkie winked at Lyra, her hoof circling next to her head. "So I don't see the problem in substituting that mumbo-jumbo with something that makes sense!"
Shocked into silence, Lyra simply gave a numb nod for an answer.
"Master looks as if she's seen a ghost," Snowy hopped to Lyra's side the moment she set hoof on the street outside.
Lyra simply paced forward with a vacant expression. She made a cloud of dust as she walked, kicking her hoof whenever a loose-looking pile of dust wound up in her way.
"Master didn't find the pastries Master was intending to get, I take it?" Snowy tried again. They have crossed a few streets without either of them speaking; the silence seemed to embolden the windigo. "I mean, I can understand how going hungry would upset Master. Ponies need to-"
"What the heck have I been doing!" Lyra kicked a larger pebble away. The rock spun around on the uneven road, finally bouncing high and knocking loudly against a house.
Both master and windigo stopped for a moment, staring at the hoof-sized spot where the paint flaked off - right next to a window.
"Uhh... to me, Master seems to have almost broken a window." Snowy cocked her head to the side.
"Even when I'm trying my darnest, I'm still leaps and bounds behind everypony else!" Lyra shook her head wildly, seething in a subdued tone. It was a strange combination. Her rage sought a way to escape - but the more self-conscious part of her didn't want anypony else to overhear. Even when there were none nearby. "Why, why, why am I the only one stumbling around?! Why is everypony else so... so... so..."
Competent was what she couldn't bring herself to say.
The thoughts in her mind felt heavy; even though she fought - to the point where she clenched her teeth - she only found comfort once her head was hanging low.
Damn it all.
There was no point in admitting shortcomings. She had done things already - horrible, irrecoverable things. Discord, Twilight... there was no going back on those.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Lyra wondered if this was how the warlords of the old ages must have felt - knowing they are about to commit to a losing battle, yet having no choice but to rush forward anyway.
How did the gryphon commander lament in that opera, again?
God sometimes deals a hand of misfortune... you can also feel it in your bones, don't you? Moments like these... when God looks the other way.
Struggling with so much weight on her back, Lyra could already see herself failing. It was inevitable. How could she, a mere pony who had only ever known the peaceful high society life, now take on the whole world and win?
Of course it was impossible. It was a completely unreasonable premise.
I'm stumbling because I'm way over my head... I was never meant to do this, she cringed and gave in, collapsing in the dust in silence. Why did I let myself get strung along so easily? Why, why, why...
"Stumbling around - that may be because the heart is blind." Snowy spoke up all of a sudden, the windigo's calm voice breaking the spell that Lyra forced upon herself.
"The heart...?" Lyra squinted at the windigo, unfocused and a little lost.
"Master has done what Master felt just. Kind of... wishing well, in a way." Snowy giggled and gave her master a warm grin. "Some complications did happen along the way, that's true. But I think it's alright - because at least we've tried! And because we have always meant well. I believe that's what really matters."
Blinking dazedly from the dust, Lyra wasn't sure what to think at first. She was being comforted by a fearsome ice demon, for Equestria's sake!
She decided that the only possible choice was to snicker, and then laugh a little a bit.
"As if trying ever mattered...!" she chuckled, once she reigned her laughter in. "Snowy... do you know the saying, 'even the road to Tartarus is paved with good intentions'?"
"Mmm, no, I don't." Snowy rubbed her chin. "But it sounds proper! Even the sinners should enjoy a comfortable walk."
A faint crack rang out - Lyra's forehead acquired an imprint of her own left hoof.
"That's an idiom, you idiot." She rolled her eyes. "It means that intentions don't matter... only how things actually turn out."
Snowy pursed her mouth. She then turned away, her red eyes focused on the flaking paint near the window.
Lyra wasn't sure what to make of that response. She massaged the spot where she hit herself on the head, biding her time - but she couldn't decipher the ghost's expression, no matter how long she tried.
"Then perhaps saving this village was the wrong thing to do?" Snowy finally pulled her head back. While the windigo's eyes were solid red, Lyra could somehow tell that Snowy was focusing on her.
"Wha- of course it wasn't!" she blurted out, confused by the odd stare and the even odder question. "But c'me on, Snowy! That was the only unequivocal good deed of ours! Why would you question it now?"
Snowy continued doing the unexpected - she grinned.
"Because since then we have learnt that it wasn't just bad fortune that brought the changelings here... it was part of somepony else's plan." The windigo cracked her eye open and raised her translucent eyebrows. "I was the prize, wasn't I? Master and the village... were nothing but bystanders getting in the way. Collateral."
Rapidly blinking, Lyra backed off a step. Not because of what the windigo had said, no; that was her very own explanation being retold to her. The mere fact that Snowy opposed her took her by surprise - the windigo had always readily kowtowed before.
"Had Master not beat the changelings off, I would likely be masterless... or in Canterlot already. The whole ploy was for the Princess to acquire one more servant... and who knows? With me on her side, she may have won already." Snowy carried on, her mouth widening to a grin that showed all her sharp, see-through teeth. "And after that victory, there'd be no more squabbling over servants anymore. That should be something to celebrate, am I right?"
Lyra turned her head sideways and looked at the windigo questioningly.
"Are you... not happy with me, or...?"
"Oh no! I am really proud to serve Master." Snowy lowered herself to the ground. "This is exactly why I would rather not have Master say things like the end justifying the means. Such talk leads to villages getting torched... throwing away a hundred so that a thousand may celebrate."
Towering above the windigo in the deserted street, Lyra couldn't get herself to answer that plea. She wasn't even sure what to think. How could somepony who had racked failure upon failure not be dissatisfied with the results?
...which was what she had thought until now.
"Huh," Lyra mumbled, propping her chin up with her hoof. "I hadn't thought of that."
Indeed, she could have been a lot more successful had she abused Snowy. Alas, the thought simply never occurred to her. Even now, when she was finally willing to make sacrifices for a greater good, she still wasn't feeling good about those necessities. She wasn't expecting to come out ahead of the deal either, and that also helped to calm her conscience.
"The heart is blind," Snowy glanced up from the dust. "Master listening to her heart has lead to mistakes, yes... but it's a quality to be treasured. I don't think anypony else had tried what Master is doing now. Surely that's no less important than some setbacks!"
Moving her hoof to her temple, Lyra shook her head sombrely.
"Stop the empty praises, you doof. I doubt I would be the first to have tried stopping this game," she motioned to the windigo to get up. "With this much power, it's ridiculously easy to break things. It's like living in a house of cards. One wrong push..."
"Hmm. Master may think so, but to me, the rest seemed rather content with their share." Snowy frowned. "Miss Trixie happily abused Origin, for example. Remember the time Master offered my services to her! She didn't even hesitate. Master barely finished the sentence... and Miss Trixie had already agreed."
Biting onto her lip, Lyra had to acknowledge that fact; Trixie had been suspiciously eager indeed. But even discounting that odd wizard, she was still yet to meet a player who wanted the game to be gone.
Twisting her head and giggling to herself, Lyra couldn't help but feel a bit weird. To think that she, the pony who had brought nothing but misfortune, was still ahead of the pack somehow.
"Hahaha... what can I say? I always have been kind of a nutty pony," she broke into a loud cackle. "A hopeless, dreaming dunce, that's what I am!"
"Seems that title is not without perks," Snowy winked at her.
"Soldiers, all of them in shiny armour... the Royal Guard, I reckon." Snowy narrowed her eyes as she tried to get the details right. "Four of them, one bearing fancier headgear than the rest. Probably an officer."
Not more than ten steps away, Lyra was hiding behind the corner, listening to her invisible scout and going through the contingency plans she had in mind.
She didn't have a plan for this exact situation, though. She wasn't expecting to see soldiers guarding the door to her house.
Why are they here? she grimaced, squeezing herself against the cold wall. Did they figure out that I released Discord?
She rejected the idea almost immediately.
Discord is a national emergency... would they know I was the instigator, I would be The Public Enemy. I bet there would be a lot more than four soldiers to arrest me then!
The number of troopers puzzled her. Four was too few for a real threat, but also too many for just checking on a troublemaking pony.
Maybe I'm just over-thinking this, Lyra massaged her forehead with two hooves. So what if they search my house? They couldn't pin anything on me.
She had nothing illicit at home. The collection of Canterlot's high-detail maps could have been the most suspicious, but maps weren't prohibited items. She could have been planning her vacation for all the Guard knew.
The diary held all the details to her plans of sneaking into the Palace - to face Celestia, finally snatching the servants from her.
But the very diary wasn't in Lyra's house; it had been left in Pinkie's safekeeping. As a sort of safety net, Lyra had left the book at the Sugarcube, occasionally visiting the crazy baker to make the required few updates. And to buy some sweets, of course.
"So what do we do?" Snowy motioned at the soldiers. "Should I make them forget about Master?"
Lyra firmly shook her head. There was no telling if those soldiers meant harm to her in the first place. General ethics aside, four confused troopers may have been more dangerous than four idling ones; and in case they did have standing orders to take her in, those were likely made in writing. Mind-wipe these four, and more would come tomorrow. Most likely angrier ones, too.
No, she needed a different way to handle the situation.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes... then stepped out from cover, walking towards her home with firm steps.
Here goes nothing.
"Oh - okay," Snowy nodded with some delay, then fell into her place at her Master's side.
The soldiers didn't notice Lyra approaching for a rather long while. They seemed pretty busy chatting among themselves, giggling and occasionally bumping each other on the helmet. Then one of them glanced at Lyra. It was clear that she was recognised right away, but the soldier still hesitated.... and finally broke into a loud yell, wildly pointing at her with a hoof.
And the fun begins, Lyra grimaced at the sight of all four troopers turning towards her in unison.
The way they began marching, it didn't seem like they came to have a conversation. Helmets lowered to the point of brims covering the stern eyebrows, hooves pounding on the ground, the two unicorns in the back holding their spears perfectly upright - Lyra knew where she had seen that choreography before.
Aww. They look like they're marching on parade.
Lyra wasn't alone with that thought, apparently. The unusual scene drew the attention of many bystanders; there were almost two dozen ponies staring by the time the soldiers reached Lyra.
"Why hello," she forced a weak smile. She addressed the yellow pony in the front; she recognised the Sarge from her time in custody. "Forgot to ask me a question back in the barracks?"
The sergeant didn't appreciate the joke. He stopped right in Lyra's face - he was so close that Lyra could feel his breath ruffling the fur on her nose - his expression so forced and static that he could have been carved from stone for all intents and purposes.
"Lyra Heartstrings, you are hereby under arrest."
Even the fake grin faded from Lyra's face.
"What for?" she gasped.
"For the foalnapping of the Golden Oak's librarian," the sergeant growled, then motioned with his head. "Colts, you know the plan."
One surprise followed another. Lyra was expecting to be taken back to the cell she had 'visited' the last time - but she was put on a train instead.
It didn't seem like a well-planned operation. The wagon was already full of passengers when her captors arrived to the station; it took the sergeant more than a quarter hour to order everypony off. Then she was pushed up the stairs; those pikes could be wonderfully convincing, once they began poking her in the rear. She was made sit in the middle of the empty car, surrounded by the four Royal Guard troopers, Snowy idly observing by her side.
It was a rather surreal scene; Lyra's only frame of reference came from cheap thriller novels. She never assumed that real ponies could be whisked away by the Guard. It went so easily, too. They had passed countless ponies on their way to the station, but not a single one of them asked just why she was being dragged away. All they did was move out of the way and stare.
They didn't say a thing, but Lyra had no trouble understanding them.
I'm glad this isn't my problem, their faces read. You're under arrest, so you must have done something. Serves you right!
It was somewhat disheartening to think that she had tossed her life away for that ungrateful lot.
A loud horn blared outside and the whole car shifted. The troopers had it easy; they were sitting on the designated seats, backs to the separator walls. Lyra had no such luck. She was sitting in the spot where all four colts could see her - the middle of the corridor. She had nothing to brace against; so she swayed back and forth when the train began moving, finally stumbling forward.
Three Guards yelled at her in the very same instant.
"DON'T MOVE!"
The fourth trooper let his actions do the talking instead of his mouth. He grabbed his spear, the shiny tip of the weapon almost scraping against Lyra's side.
Whoooaa, Lyra gulped, her gaze on the pointy piece of metal. It took her a lot of willpower to obey the instructions and stay still, so close to danger.
"That wasn't very smart, Mister soldier!" Snowy paced between Lyra and the colt, walking right across the spear. "You shouldn't handle dangerous tools like that... especially not a moving platform."
It took Lyra a few seconds to get what the windigo was talking about. Then, once she finally understood, she began sweating cold.
One bump, and that spear could easily wind up between her ribs.
Gulping loudly and staring at the weapon with wide eyes, she weighed her choices. She very much wanted to protest, or at least point the danger out... but on the other hoof, these Guards looked really edgy. Whatever they had been told, they clearly regarded her as a serious threat. She had to take that into account; surrounded by armed and nervous colts, anything she did or said could have carried dire consequences.
Unfriendly weapons being flung at her, for example.
"Hey! Hey, you! Put that away!" the sergeant barked loudly. "What are you thinking, holding that spear like that?! You're gonna stab her if this train as much as bumps!"
Watching the spear inch away from her proximity, Lyra closed her eyes and gave a trembling sigh.
That was... preeetty close.
"Sorry Sir," the colt mumbled, his magic sliding the spear to the ground next to him. "I was just worried she'd try somethin', 's all."
Lyra wasn't really placated by the half-hearted apology. She was scared to death, for Equestria's sake! From the corner of her eye, she saw the sergeant give a hearty nod though; he, on the other hoof, looked quite satisfied.
"Can't be careful enough," the sergeant returned to the more comfortable position of leaning against the wooden wall. "But try to be more careful the next time, m'kay? Orders are that we need to bring this witch to Canterlot - in one piece."
Witch! Lyra grimaced at her designation. She turned to the sergeant, ready to protest against that nonsense - but she didn't get further than opening her mouth.
Canterlot, her mind caught onto the word, and that word cancelled all the other thoughts she had. I'm being taken to Canterlot. These colts were ordered to take me to Canterlot.
She carried her gaze around, slowly and carefully. The soldiers, who had so calmly paraded her around town, now appeared shaken. No matter where Lyra looked, she only saw glassy stares focusing on her. It was as if those colts were ordered to escort Discord himself to Canterlot.
Lyra almost pitied them. Almost. After the episode with the spear, she was much more ready to be wary of them instead.
Soldiers! Pffft. More like pitiful mules. They seem so tough but only while there are other ponies also staring me down; they cower like scared kittens once they are all alone with me. As if the townsfolk would could have helped them! Those ponies would have simply ran for their lives... just like back then, with the changelings. Bah.
A wry grimace on her face, Lyra decided on doing something brave: she sat down. All the soldiers winced at the move, their armours creaking. Then they saw that Lyra wasn't up to anything, and the tension in the air dropped back to normal levels. Loud sighs rang out, and the four Guards leaned against the wooden walls like four sacks of ground wheat, their heads bobbing to the rhythm of the train rocking around.
"I don't think this is how their plan was supposed to work out," Snowy scratched the back of her neck.
"Yeah, it's a bit... surprising." Lyra frowned with a tiny shake of her head. "It does explain why it was up to us to stop the changelings, though."
She didn't need to whisper. Her voice was drowned out by the loud snoring; barely more than eight hours into the journey, and all the four soldiers were already fast asleep. The spears, now without supervision, rolled back and forth in the open cabins as the train moved, occasionally bumping against the wooden walls with light knocks.
It's really scary to think these folks were... eh, 'guarding' Ponyville all this time, Lyra pressed a hoof against her temple. And the rest of Equestria, too. Oh my sweet merciful everything.
The more she learnt of them, the Guard seemed more of a bad joke than a military, if she were honest. Though then again - none of those colts had ever seen a real fight, much less been in one. Even if armed and armoured, those ponies were closer to errand-ponies than actual warriors.
Watching a spear roll around freely, Lyra wondered if that colt would have really stabbed her earlier. He looked very much afraid, and nervous ponies could always do unexpected things... but looking back with a calm head, Lyra felt fairly certain that she was in no real danger. These ponies couldn't bring themselves to fight changelings after all - so there was no way they would harm a fellow pony, no matter what lies Celestia had told them.
Assuming they wouldn't get a spear through side out of sheer ineptitude, that is.
"Me, a witch...!" Lyra hissed absent-mindedly, shaking her head in disbelief.
The nerve!
"Technically, that description may have merits." Snowy hummed - and backed off when her master turned around, giving her a stern glare. "Ah, ah - let me explain! By Equestrian standards, I'm a pretty powerful being, right? And I'm also invisible to most ponies. Master also commands my powers freely. Sooo... to anypony else, it would appear that those powerful abilities were Master's own, right? To any ordinary pony, Master would look supernatural. Kind of like a... witch."
Lyra made a sour face. That explanation made a lot of sense - she could see Celestia going by that description simply to save herself the effort of explaining servants and whatnot to ordinary soldiers.
"Frickin' Sunbutt!" she moaned, rubbing her neck with fury. "She's always so clever! Gahhh, I'm really afraid to meet her now."
"Sunbutt...?" Snowy squinted, cocking her head to the side.
"Celestia," Lyra waved her hoof dismissively, then paused to stare at the strands of mane sticking to said hoof. "Dis- uh- Mister D called her that, remember?"
Giving the torn strands of hair a pass, Lyra stretched her neck and sighed in relief. That was close. No matter how deep those soldiers were sleeping, she shouldn't have mentioned Discord out loud - not even in a whisper. Nopony knew of her connection to his release yet - and it was best left that way for as long as possible.
"Oh... how informal." Snowy giggled in obvious awkwardness. She then cleared her throat, returning to a her usual tone. "Anyhow, why does Master think that Cel... uh, Princess Sunbutt is behind this?"
Why does it take only one misstep for you to learn all my bad habits? Lyra glared briefly at the windigo.
"It's obvious," she sighed and lowered herself to the floor. She had been standing and sitting for so long, her front legs were demanding a rest. "C'me on, work that tiny brain of yours!"
Waiting for the answer, Lyra rolled on her side and stretched her legs in the air. It felt painful for a passing moment - and very, very comfortable afterwards. She almost enjoyed that rushing sensation when the sore muscles stopped aching.
A blue figure crept into her view shortly afterwards, the ruby eyes staring at her expectantly.
"Pretty please," Snowy purred.
Lyra rolled her eyes and dropped her legs on the floor.
"These soldiers got orders to take me to Canterlot," she explained in a hushed tone and very slowly. "Snowy, how many ponies could give such orders?"
"Hmmm," Snowy looked away and hummed.
Oh come on! This should be really obvious.
Laying completely limp, Lyra hoped the windigo would be able to recall something of the last few days - which they spent hunched over the various maps of Canterlot and the Palace, going through what seemed like strategic locations, studying the layout of the known Guard units.
"Fourteen," Snowy coughed up an answer - one that made Lyra give a disbelieving stare, prompting the windigo to elaborate. "The Princesses, the acting Captain of the Guard, all eight generals, and three divisional commanders... this assuming that the lower ranked ponies have no way of knowing of the game."
"Ah-kaaaay," Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Somehow, she found herself wishing that Snowy didn't recall all the trivial details that well. It would have made explaining all the lot easier. "Set the bar higher. I don't think anypony but those two know of this game, you know."
"That still leaves two," Snowy shook her head. "That's the same chance as tossing a coin."
"True," Lyra smirked dryly. "But when I talked to the viscount in the Dancing Lights... remember that? He talked of the crowned white hag. There's only one white princess, right?"
"White hag?" Snowy squinted and cocked her head to the side. "That's... a pretty peculiar way to talk of one's master."
"Guess they had a good relationship," Lyra waved her hoof in the air. "But seriously, why would FF mention Sunbutt if he had ties to Luna instead? Nah, I'm pretty sure-"
The conversation was interrupted by loud clattering. The train crossed an uneven part of the track and the wagon shook, bouncing Lyra into the air and then against the floor. Worse yet, all the noise and the wild battering woke the guards up; the two colts on her left stirred, shifting around and mumbling.
Lyra saw it better to pretend she was asleep. Rather that than deal with the awkwardness of staring at those colts in complete silence for hours.
The protracted silence had its benefits; it allowed Lyra to distance herself from her situation, and to prepare for her eventual arrival to the capital.
In a way, this might even be useful, she mused to herself. I do need to the servants from Canterlot... and now I'll be taken straight to that white witch. Almost sounds convenient, now that I think about it.
The tips of her lips curled a tiny bit.
This means I'll only need to worry about getting out, right?
She wriggled the skin on her nose. The car must have been freshly renovated, as the floor smelled of lacquer.
Heh... 'only'. It's going to be as easy as evading all the hornets after you've poked at their nest.
She twitched a little, trying to shift the weight to a different part of her side. She had never noticed during sleep, but her side would get incredibly sore after a good ten minutes of constant pressure. And then, after she had moved, the relief arrived in the form of a thousand pins pricking her.
It took Lyra a lot of willpower not to make a face.
This is easily the most uncomfortable train ride I ever had, she cringed internally. Which still didn't sound that bad once she considered that alternatives; even if not so fancy, she still preferred this train ride to a small and smelly prison cell.
"You think she's asleep?"
Her teeth grinding against each other, Lyra kept her ears from turning towards the voice.
"Well, she ain't been movin' for a while now," came a different voice from the opposite direction. "Fast asleep, I reckon."
You know nothing, Lyra chuckled silently, suppressing her desire to make a smug grin. It was a victory of the most minuscule scale, but she was taking them as they came.
"She's so creepy, even when she's asleep."
A shudder raced down Lyra's back.
Oi, that's like, really insulting! Are you saying I'm disfigured or something? You're saying I'm ugly, isn't that what you're saying?!
"Eh, looks pretty ordinary to me. Just a sleepin' mare. Yer' just bein' nervous... loosen up, dude. Chillax."
Lyra imagined turning to that other Guard and patting him on the head.
Why thank you!
"But that's exactly that freaks me out! She isn't ordinary... didn't you hear about her?"
Lyra couldn't help herself. Her ear moved a little, tuning in to the news. She was pretty curious to what the rumours were saying about her.
"Think I saw 'er on posters... somethin' 'bout the Opera," the other trooper hummed. A lengthy silence followed; whatever the colt remembered about the poster, it didn't come easily to him.
Lying on the floor, Lyra was rooting the for the fellow. C'me on! You can do it! I'm lying right in front of you - just look at my cutie mark!
"Think she was a singer or somethin'."
Whoosh - with that remark, all the positive thoughts had left Lyra's mind. She was biting her tongue to keep herself from jumping up and screaming, in fact.
"No - not that! And just who gives a hoot about the Opera anyway? All they do there is scream weird lyrics all day... nobility and their weird hobbies, blah."
The wagon jumped a little, filling the air with loud racket for a few moments. Which was all and well, as it hid the sounds of Lyra grinding her teeth.
Be calm, girl. Don't stand up and buck that idiot in the face. Calm thoughts. Happy thoughts.
"No, what I'm talking about is the changeling invasion of a few weeks ago. You remember that one, right?"
Lyra's ear perked. She was still seething with anger, but the topic began to rekindle her interest.
"Well, I was on leave that day, thank Celestia. But yea', I kinda' heard things. What 'bout it?"
Something shifted; the floor creaked. Judging by the noises, Lyra assumed the soldiers got off their lazy butts and walked to each other to converse.
Please talk loudly enough so I can still overhear, she squeezed her eyes in the vain attempt to focus on her ear. She was in luck; her ears were good, and the noisy train forced the soldiers to keep their voice up.
"I've heard that this... 'pony' stopped the whole invasion," an agitated voice whispered. "She grabbed a sword and went absolutely nuts. We had to cordon the whole plaza off... the cleaning crews were hauling dead bugs away for one whole day."
Oi, oi, oi... that wasn't me! Lyra wrinkled her forehead. She actually tried to keep the casualties to a minimum - it was the Source who had gone on a stabbing-spree.
It would make sense that everything would fall back on her head, though. Only she knew of the Source's involvement, after all. To anypony else, everythingthat had happened on the plaza must have been her doing.
So now I'm a psycho as well, she exhaled, her hot breath playing with her mane as it bounced back from the floor. Fan-bucking-tastic.
"Hah! S'if I believed anythin' like that. One lone pony ain't stoppin' a horde of bugs! Besides, I've heard that the garrison took care of 'em - it was a propah' charge an' everythin'. You know, the same folks who took yer'... eh, super-pony into custody."
The muscles in Lyra's leg spasmed. Her uncomfortable position had little to do with that; it was reliving the memory that hurt the most.
"Don't believe everything you hear, dude. I was part of that charge... and I can tell you: we didn't fight anything. We just watched the bugs run away."
A moment of silence set in, and Lyra could almost feel the confusion in the air. She could easily imagine the two soldiers blinking at each other.
"Yep, you heard me right. The bugs were already running for their lives by when we got there... so somepony had to beat them, right?"
"Hmm, yea'. They would'n just flee without nommin' on some yummy ponies first."
Another period of silence followed. Lying on the ground and waiting, Lyra alternated between two desires: she wanted to scream and to scratch. Badly. The pretend-sleep was easy when she could hear the soldiers converse, but the long silence left her clueless about them.
She couldn't imagine them doing anything but staring at her - and the feeling made her uneasy on so many levels.
"And you say she's been the lone pony on the plaza? As in, all alone?"
So you ARE staring at me, Lyra gulped. Her leg twitched; she needed to move, at least a very little. She would go nuts if she couldn't release the stress somehow.
"Yep, alone - and beating up somepony who looked like a big bug. I mean, I'm not a huge fan of conspiracy theories... but how else could you explain all this?"
"I see what yer' sayin'. But, if she's a bug-beater... then why are we takin' her to Canterlot, again?"
"Because she is dangerous. But... if you ask me, it's the same reason why we had a huge bug-wave rolling in after the Princess ordered most of the force to Canterlot," the soldier grunted, his last words mingling with the claps his hooves made on the floor. "Seriously, did you ever consider that the princesses are basically immortal... politicians?"
"Haha, ain't truth depressin'. Well, better hope even snails can grow backbones, rite'?" the other soldier said with a muffled giggle. "For our sakes'... and fo' this pony, too."
"Just don't let the sarge hear you saying any of that," the first soldier giggled. "One wrong word and cleaning the toilets will be your sole career."
Unable to keep herself still any longer, Lyra mimicked a yawn and lifted her head into the air.
"Umm, sorry... but I think I've heard the word toilet, aaand... any chance you folks would, err... let me go visit the one here?"
She gave her eyes a careful rub and yawned again - it was hard to stop once she got into the habit. She felt surprisingly groggy, too. Pretend sleep or not, her eyes acted as if she had slept for two days straight, her eyelids sticking together with each blink.
A few more blinks, and she could see properly; curiously enough, she found one soldier amiss. She saw the sergeant and a soldier sleeping on her right, with another soldier and Snowy being on her left. She did the count again; but one pony was still unaccounted for.
Even more curiously, the one awake soldier didn't reach for his spear. He was sticking to his spot as if his hooves were nailed to the floor; he only glanced to his sleeping superior time and again, but didn't do anything else.
What the... Lyra rubbed her head.
"Y... yea. J-j... just go an'... an' use the toilet," came a shaky voice from behind her. Turning around, Lyra didn't see anypony; the fourth soldier was likely hiding in another cabin, behind the wooden separator wall. "As... as long as ya' promise to not go berserk on us..."
What a bunch of sissies, Lyra rolled her eyes. No wonder you were so helpless against the changelings.
She rose up and stretched her legs. Her muscles protested against the sudden usage, but it was the wonderful kind of pain - after hours of lying on the floor, any kind of movement was a little piece of heaven.
"So this is Canterlot," Snowy clicked her tongue as she hopped off the train. "Pretty!"
Lyra followed the gaze of her servant once her legs were on solid ground. The sight didn't captivate her so much; she had seen the place so many times that it almost became her second home. With that having been said, the tall white spires looked quite fancy with the sunset behind them.
Too bad she didn't have more time to enjoy the scenic sight. She was shepherded along by two soldiers - into the ring of at least twenty-eight more. She had arrived to the main train station of Canterlot, but the place was oddly deserted; there weren't any civilians to be seen. Everypony around Lyra wore uniforms - either belonging to the train crew or to the Royal Guard.
Talking about uniforms, Lyra couldn't help but notice how the new soldiers wore golden armour instead of the more usual bronze.
They must be related to the Palace, she surmised, sneaking a few glances at her new company.
A stocky stallion broke off from the rest of the large group. He wore a bright-red cloak on top of his armour, and his headgear was also fancier than that of the rest. He stopped in front of Lyra's group, forcing all five of them to stop.
"Very well done, sergeant. Well done indeed," the stocky stallion declared. He had a clear but powerful voice; Lyra couldn't help but wonder if he could have become a singer with some training. "The Twenty-Sixth takes the prisoner over from here."
"Sir, yes Sir!" the sergeant saluted and took a step to the side, his subordinates also following suit.
Watching their faces, Lyra found that the four of them looked... quite relaxed, now that they didn't have to safeguard the 'witch' of theirs. She didn't have the chance for a lengthy observation, though; her former captors departed and the new - much more numerous - group formed a circle around her.
Lyra accepted that fact with wry frown. She had no choice but to bear with the change in situation.
She was still on her way to meet with the Princess, after all.
"Whoaaaa... this palace is huuuge!"
Her forehead rich with wrinkles, Lyra wished that Snowy would act less like a curious filly. The windigo had been bouncing around like a sugar-high lunatic all the way to the Palace - and lost practically all self-control once they were treading the richly decorated halls.
While normally commendable, that level of enthusiasm was quickly wearing Lyra's nerves down.
"Look at that picture! Oooh, all the detail... I can see the individual feathers on this gryphon!"
"Try not to get lost," Lyra growled under her breath. "Gawk too long, and I sure won't come back looking for you."
Nor would she be able to, but that was besides the point. The threat worked; as if dragged by a magic string, Snowy appeared at her side right away. The ghost's head was still rotating like a weathercock though, always facing the newest spectacle.
The whole group took a turn to the left, moving into a smaller corridor. It was still grossly oversized by any standards - the whole contingent fit in there without any issues, after all - but compared to the absurdly spacious hallways of earlier, it was a definite step back.
I wonder where I'm being taken to, Lyra looked around, a little worried. She was expecting to be taken straight to the throne room; that's where Celestia must have been, after all.
The smaller corridors didn't mesh well with that expectation.
I doubt the way to the throne room would so twisty-turny.
"HALT! AT-TEN-SHUN!"
The whole group froze in place, and all the troopers flung their hooves to their helmets. Lyra had no idea why they stopped all of a sudden - but she decided to blend into the group as much as she could. She also rose her hoof and held it to her forehead, just like she did when the sun shone into her eyes.
Because that's what a salute was... right?
Peeking around, she couldn't help but feel that her attempt at blending in was less than successful. The soldier closest to her even wrinkled his eyebrows in open disapproval.
Well sue me, Lyra steeled her face and kept her hoof right where it was. I'm not a soldier. Be glad that I'm even trying.
Blinking at her master in confusion, Snowy sat down - and also did something resembling a salute. It looked as if she was scratching her face, but as far as Lyra cared, it was the thought that counted.
And then she heard it.
Hoofclaps.
Once they weren't moving, it was easy to hear; somepony was approaching.
So we stopped because a high-ranking pony is here, Lyra mused. So you're finally here, princess...
The front row of the soldiers stopped saluting and quickly hurried to the side - revealing a tall, blue alicorn with a black crown on her head.
"...Luna?!" Lyra gasped.
"That's Princess Luna for you," the soldier behind her barked, the rest staring at her in open contempt.
"Y- yes. I'm sorry. Princess," Lyra sputtered, almost melting in the focus of the sixty-something eyes.
"Lyra Heartstrings, we presume." Luna spoke, drawing all the attention to herself. "We have been looking forward to this encounter."
Staring at the Princess of the Night from the distance of a mere few steps, Lyra gulped nervously.
Maybe it was just her own imagination, but there was something really unnerving in the way the princess was staring at her.
To think I’m intimidated by someone who doesn’t have any servants, Lyra mused sourly and glanced away, opting to stare at the black-themed crown instead of Luna’s face.
Then the realisation sunk in, and she looked around as overtly as she could. Indeed - apart from Snowy and Luna, only ordinary soldiers surrounded her.
So Luna doesn’t have any servants, huh? Lyra cocked her a tiny bit to the side, her mouth pulling to a dry smirk.
Well, big news. I always knew it was that white hag calling the shots.