//------------------------------// // 40 - Twisted // Story: The master and the windigo // by stupidswampdragon //------------------------------// "What is Master in jail for anyway?" Blankly staring at the ceiling, the pony had no idea how to answer that one. She couldn't even fathom. She recalled bits and pieces, but the fragmented pictures didn't align. She was struggling with the leftover puzzle-pieces - after somepony had thrown most of the puzzle out the window. "Why don't you stop the useless questions?" she rolled her eyes. A fat droplet landed on her forehead the next moment, and she cursed loudly. The quality of her cell was borderline torture. She faintly recalled a Guard wishing her 'much fun' in her 'top-notch apartment' as she was escorted inside - and while distant and faded, the memory still made her blood boil. That kind of humour didn't sit well with her. Not when her coat was damp and smelly from the all-permeating moist. Focusing her thoughts elsewhere, she turned to the windigo and raised her eyebrows. "Why don't you tell me something that I should know?" "Oh, I certainly would! ...but I seem to draw blanks only," Snowy lowered her head with an awkward smile, her ears plopping down to complete the image of defeat. "I'm afraid I may have overdone Master's order." "Master's order... haha. My order," the unicorn made a face, shaking her head with a faint grin. "Master... master, master. Master. You know, it's weird to hear that title. Still, I'm quite glad you recall at least that much." She didn't specify outright, but she was most thankful that she wasn't locked up with a windigo that didn't recognize her as some sort of authority. Stuck in a three-by-three metre cell with a deadly ice-demon, she wouldn't have lasted very long. Smirking wryly, the unicorn pushed that stubborn worry away. She recalled Snowy; that windigo was more akin to an old dog than a dangerous ghost. She remembered the misadventure in the northern hills- I've never been to those hills. It must have been the tale somepony else, the pony blinked with glassy eyes. Or... or maybe I simply don't remember? "Once again, I am terribly sorry," Snowy bowed, lowering her head until her jaw sunk into the hay covering the floor. "Should I remember anything, I will immediately let Master know." The unicorn stared at the brief display with a dejected face. Then she closed her eyes and put a hoof to her temple. "Alrighty... stop taking it that hard. Master's order," she mumbled, stressing the word almost comically. "That reminds me. Could you stop calling me Master?" "What else should I call you, then?" Snowy raised her eyebrows, the ruby-red eyes giving off an aura of expectation. The sentence sending a jolt down her back, the pony yanked her head towards the ghost. This conversation... I've had this conversation before! she stared silently, then shook her head wildly. Ah c'mon. What the heck do I know about the things I should know... "I have no idea what you should call me," she said curtly, glancing away and burying her face into her hooves. Being so completely ignorant about her own self - that was what made her feel the most wretched. No matter how ugly her cell was, physical discomfort simply couldn't compare to that internal disarray. "Then please bear with 'Master' for a while," Snowy made an apologetic grin, her translucent blue figure rising back to an upright stance. "So what do we do now?" "Wait, I suppose?" the unicorn chuckled dryly, openly running her gaze down the walls of the cell. "What else could we do here?" "Wait for... what, exactly?" Snowy cocked her head to the side. The answer came on its own. Something on the other side of the thick iron door began making a racket, clanging and banging, complemented after a while by indiscernible shouting. The Guard, the pony realised and shifted forward, standing up. The door opened with a loud creak. The harsh light assaulted the pony's eyes, but she forgot about the pain for that moment. She simply cocked her head to the side, staring dumbly, her mouth hanging wide open. How did I know who would come? she mused - and indeed, an armoured soldier walked through the open doorway. "Let us get clear on this," Princess Luna rubbed her forehead. She managed to come up with a fairly remarkable expression, appearing absolutely annoyed and perplexed at the same time. "This pony snuck into our prison, freed a prisoner... and then took her place?" "S- something like that, your Highness," a trooper nodded, his forcibly calm tone mixed with a burst of nervous giggle. "I... I mean, that was the only conclusion we could reach. Records indicate that Lyra Heartstrings should have been in that cell... but we only found this mentally challenged pony inside." Lyra Heartstrings, the words echoed inside the amnesiac unicorn's head. She was in a fairly generic room, one that resembled a storage area rather than a court room. Pieces of furniture were arranged at the walls, piled up in a random fashion, some of them covered by white cloths. A ring of three Royal Guards surrounded her; and the Princess of the Night of course, separated from the small group by about eight steps' distance. Lyra... why that name sounds so odd. Almost like... deja-vu. Huh. "Lyra Heartstrings. Heart... strings," Luna repeated the name slowly, savouring it. Then she gave up on trying to remember, the exact moment marked by her head turning to the unimportant-looking grey pony behind her. The grey mare behind the princess quickly snapped to attention. She didn't overstrain herself, though; she remained unmoved, adjusting her reading glasses with a blank expression on her face. Most interestingly, such lack of distinct features made her very recognizable: few were as boring as her. Even the nameless prisoner could recognize Paradox, though she failed to recall where they got to knew each other. Though on a second thought, she was pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to know that servant. Somewhere, deep inside her conscious, she was absolutely certain that Princess Luna wasn't involved in the Game. Yet, at the same time... she saw the princess giving the servant a definite nod, a direct contradiction to her belief. Well, I could be going crazy I suppose, the pony smiled wryly at her own plight. I swear, this friggin' amnesia... "I can affirm I have no knowledge of this pony." Paradox spoke. Her speech was just like her whole being: slow, uninteresting and without a shred of emotion. "What about me?" Snowy paced forward, eyeing the grey mare. "You wouldn't happen to remember me either, huh?" "Look, Nix... or Snowy... or whatever you call yourself nowadays. Drop the act - it won't help you. At all." Paradox chastised the other ghost. Bereft of fire and passion however, the tirade sounded more like a recap. "I see you got a new host, though. That may matter." "Master isn't new," Snowy sneaked a glance at the unicorn behind. "Interesting that you would say that." Paradox shrugged and turned to the Princess. "At the same time: I know I don't recall that pony from before. She is important for obvious reasons, but..." Luna hummed at the statement, holding a hoof to her chin as she dived into her thoughts. "Uh... Princess?" one of the Guards barged into the conversation he couldn't sense taking place. "What do we do with this pony now?" "She sneaked into the cell of Lyra Heartstrings," Luna sighed, dragging the hoof from her chin to the side of her head. She didn't seem very enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Holding tribunal during the day was probably quite bothersome when one had to work through the nights as well. "Such a strange case... what was the original prisoner accused of?" "Assault against a figure of high authority, murdering Ponyville's librarian, conspiring against Princess Celestia..." the Guard read from the paper that floated in front of him. "Oh! And being late on tax forms." Staring as overtly as she could, the accused unicorn wrinkled her eyebrows at the charges. They didn't seem correct for some reason. She didn't believe herself to be capable of such heinous acts, for one. But even beyond that, there was something else... It was that strange sense of deja-vu again. She could have sworn the trooper misread that list! She recalled this very scene, but with the charges being slightly different. She looked away and scratched her head. What's going on here? She must have sunk quite deep in those thoughts, because Luna was asking questions by the time she returned to her senses. "Was that Lyra pony ever convicted on any of those charges?" "Not according to the records, your Highness. The case was still ongoing," the Guard eyed the paper. "Actually, you were the one presiding over the caseeEEK!" The soldier jumped away as the paper was torn from his magic, the white sheet zipping to Luna like an arrow. The magic of the Princess held the parchment in the air a few inches from her face, her teal eyes working through the barrage of text as if she was on a speed-reading contest. "We do not recall anything such!" she finally thundered, slamming the paper to the floor and giving the unicorn a stern glare. "Just who ARE you, commoner?! What is this forgery?!" "I- I have no idea!" the unicorn stammered. The furious gaze of the princess may have been technically harmless, but it was more than enough to make her legs quiver. "Is this some misguided joke? Are you making fun of our justice system?!" Luna growled and turned back to her incorporeal accountant. Paradox gave her a silent nod in return, and focused her grey eyes on the prisoner. While Princess' stare was bad, the gaze of Paradox elevated uneasiness to whole new dimensions. The unicorn shuddered under the weight of those grey pupils. She could feel her head ache and stomach turn. She held out as long as she could, but finally her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. The Guards around her didn't really comprehend what had happened to her. They must have assumed she simply felt sick, because they all looked away, their spears at the ready nevertheless. The unicorn regarded that as an act of kindness. She wasn't certain why, but she was worried that they might stab her right on the spot. "In my professional opinion: she's clean," Paradox announced without the slightest ounce of care for the ailing pony. "I found nothing relating to any of those charges. Though given that she parades around with this wretched windigo... I reckon she may have been rightly accused. Right now, however, she no longer can be kept in that cell. Not legally." "This paper says we presided over the case... but we have no recollection of anypony by Lyra, nor Heartstrings," Luna exclaimed aloud, tearing the paper in half. "This is either a joke, a bad prank or a conspiracy against our public image." "I told you I don't know anything!" the unicorn reiterated, pushing herself back on her hooves. "I don't even know who I am, for Celes-!" She faltered. That phrase - for Celestia's sake - was pretty common in Equestria. She had used it countless times in her life, too; it rolled off her tongue quite readily. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. Something in her had refused to make use of that name. "If you wish to ask favours from us, you must pick a better approach than wasting our precious sleep-time," Luna growled and tossed the torn pieces of paper away. "Guards! Throw her out of the palace and make sure she does not come back for... let us say a month. Use that time to learn the proper etiquette for inquiries, commoner." "...and stay OUT!" the Guard yelled before slamming the door shut. The unicorn could not reply to that, for she was busy performing a landing with her face. Throw her out, was the order of the Princess; but in all honesty, the pony didn't expect the Guard to take the words so literally. ...at least on any other occasion, that is. This time? This time she'd had a hunch, and was more or less prepared for the outcome. It was as if she had seen how this scene would play out - the kick that sent her flying, the cobblestones of the street coming closer and closer to her face, the dull thud of the impact... The landing didn't even hurt so much. It was practically nothing compared to her utter confusion. "Ow..." she rubbed her face, moaning more out of habit than anything else. The strange precognitions weighed heavier on her mind, bugged her badly enough to make her burst into a loud shout. "What the heck is happening around here?!" "Master, if I may..." Snowy interrupted her, the blue windigo lowering its head to the pony's level; to the very ground, in effect. "Is it really wise to make a scene just after being let out of prison?" "There won't be a scene," the pony muttered. She jumped up, completely ignoring both the gathering crownd and the shuddering ghost as she yanked her head around wildly. "These ponies around don't matter. There will be a foal, looking for us... he's going to matter." "Uh... what?" Snowy balked, her face twisted by bewildered. "Master, that's one highly unusual prophecy." "That way," the pony mumbled and shot out, darting through the crowd, driven by a force even she couldn't explain. She already knew what was bound to happen - because she had already been to that plaza once. She had suffered through this humiliation before already. But while comforted by her strange ability to see the rough outlines of the future, this weird gift kept pushing the same question to the pony's mind with more and more urgency. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?! It didn't take long to find the young foal who was looking for her. "You!" the unicorn declared sternly, her raspy voice making a few bystanders back off in haste. By all looks, she was a way too unrefined for the fair folks of Canterlot. How the heck do I even know what Canterlot is like! the pony seethed, venting her anger by glaring at the cowardly bunch retreating from her proximity. Did I use to live here or something? Among these spineless cowards? Her anger wasn't long lasting, thankfully. She worked the disappointment out of her system on a short order, closing the topic with a wild roll of her eyes; then she returned her gaze to the foal, who was... taken aback by having a fully grown mare appear out of the blue and blare at him. "You have a letter you need to deliver," the pony narrowed her eyes, pointing a hoof at the foal. "Give it to me." "Whoa," Snowy gulped as she watched the foal cower to the ground. "I envy Master. Fresh out of prison, and such confidence already!" Briefly glancing at the windigo, the unicorn scoffed at the notion. Her confidence was based on cold facts. She knew this pony was to deliver a mail to her; what was the harm in hurrying the issue along? The outcome was the same. She would be lead through Canterlot and wind up in a shady inn, where she would meet- Buckling as pain rushed through her head, the unicorn gritted her teeth. No wonder her brain hurt! She had to endure the madness, make use of it... and doubt it, thinking on the matter at the same time. She couldn't simply brush off the discord between her thoughts and reality as if nothing strange was going on. How could she know what she was to do, when the envelope was only floating in front of her face, still sealed and waiting to be opened..? I didn't use to be a psychic, the unicorn furrowed her forehead. Something's not right... was I in prison for this? Am I an amnesiac because of this? Grimacing to herself, she was fairly sure in her aim. I need to get to the bottom of this. She grabbed the letter greedily, tearing the wax yellow seal and pulling the letter into the open. The content and the material were at odds - the letter was made of the finest rice paper, yet the words looked hastily scribbled, as if made by a grade-schooler. To our most likely unknowing ally, If you are reading this letter, then know: we have succeeded. Twilight Sparkle is no more and the Great and Powerful took the position that was truly destined for her. Of course, sacrifices were needed for righting fate on such scale. You must be confused right now. That much is expected; as far as the world is concerned, you did nothing and nothing was changed either. Only this letter proves otherwise. Thusly, only the Great and Powerful knows what you did and what it cost you. Lucky for you, the greatest magician also knows how this damage can be undone. Follow Snips. He was instructed to lead you to your salvation. PS: know that the Great and Powerful never wrote such a letter. She never met you either. To anypony else, it must have looked as if the unicorn broke the world record in speed-reading. She only took a passing glance and set the letter aside, staring with her mouth hanging wide-open. She knew the message just by looking. No, that wasn't right - she had known the message already. She was merely refreshing the memory. This is mandess, the unicorn crunched the expensive letter and threw it away. Mad ponies don't imagine letters into reality, though. So this isn't just all in my head, right? "Astounding," the foal mumbled in utter reverence. "The Great and Powerful told me to deliver the letter to a pony like you, precisely here and today. And 'lo, you came! Truly almighty she is, the chosen student of Celestia!" Snorting with thinly veiled disdain, the unicorn wondered about that. She could have broken into a tirade about how Trixie employed a no-name hitpony to get Twilight Sparkle out of the way, weaselling herself into a position she could never reach - and, frankly, was never meant to have. She kept her feelings bottled up and her mouth shut, however. Something told her that she wasn't supposed to be rash; that her fate was to nod and play along, following the foal into the thinner, darker, grittier streets of the capital. She had to walk to the inn - she had to meet somepony there. An important pony. "Yeah, yeah. All hail the Great and Powerful," the unicorn rolled her eyes, then turned her eyes to the foal. "Let's skip the rest of the pleasantries, m'kay? Just take me to where I need to be." The shady alleys felt familiar. They were still oppressive and reeked of failed lives, of course. Thousands of sad tales; dreams that had run off their rails, winding up in deep ditches that nopony cared about. Her hooves kicking up dirty water as she paced through the thin street, the unicorn made a face at the flaking walls. She wasn't irritated by the environment itself; she already knew what to expect, so seeing the 'other' face of Canterlot wasn't such a surprise to her. It was this knowledge itself that bothered her. As far as she could tell, she had never strayed from the glittery parts of the city. She had always kept a safe distance from the 'bad neighbourhoods'... so logically thinking, it was impossible for her to have first-hoof experiences about the unsavoury streets. That didn't stop her from recognizing the more distinct landmarks, oddly enough. I know that house, the unicorn squinted at a three-story building, then twisted her head around, just in time to see an aqua-blue house appear down the intersecting road. I've seen that one too. It must have looked wonderful when it was new! Heck, I bet all it'd need is a lick of paint and- The pony shook her head and hastened her steps. She was running before she knew - but no matter how hard she pressed her hooves, she couldn't outrun the familiar streets or the troubling thoughts. Stop thinking about houses, you idiot. You've got bigger problems than to be distracted by the scenery! You must get to the Four Happy Cadavers or else you'll never know- She stopped so abruptly that not even her windigo could follow her motion. Snowy zipped past her, only realizing her mistake some ten steps later - and then backtracked with haste, getting back to the pony's side. "Is there something wrong, Master?" the windigo asked with a curious gaze, her head cocked to the side. "Master was running down so fast, so to stop this suddenly... did Master hurt her legs? These cobblestones look hazardous. They are so dirty that Master could easily slip and sprain something." The pony rejected the worry with a numb shake of her head. She did feel a bit light-headed, racing down the abandoned-looking streets... but no, physical issues had little to do with her condition. She was shocked that she knew the name of her destination. The Inn to the Four Happy Cadavers - a run-down shack, situated in a house that seemed to teeter on the brink of collapse. It wasn't very far either - a further five minutes of walk or so. But how do I know all that? the unicorn slammed a hoof against her temple. And if I knew that, why did I even need Snips to guide me there in the first place?! I could have walked there on my own. I could- Raising her unsteady gaze back to the distant buildings from the grime-covered cobblestones, the pony realised what was amiss. She was alone. In her blind rush through the streets, she had left Snips behind at some point. Considering everything logically, it didn't seem like a serious loss. She knew the way; she could get to the Four Happy Cadavers quite easily on her own. It just didn't seem right, arriving without her guide. For some reason, she wanted to follow Snips there... because it seemed like the proper thing to do. I'm really going nuts, the pony cringed, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. Hahaha, I'm totally going nuts! I bet that something went wrong while messing with my head... and now I've gone bonkers. Be that as it may, she had little choice but to push onwards. She had nowhere else to go but to the inn. "This way," she motioned to her servant and marched on. "I've been wondering... Master seems to know this path rather well," Snowy scratched her head before following the pony. "Did Master frequent this place, or...?" "Never been here!" the pony chuckled dryly, flashing a dry smirk as another familiar building appeared down the next corner. "I just have some wicked good intuition, that's all." The sign looked about as worn as the building itself; they probably had their heyday about forty years ago. Probably under a different name as well: the paint on the sign looked garishly different in places. Whoever had made the repair had either no talent for the job or was running on a seriously short budget; the paint was of a completely different shade. At least the newer, more wordy title covered a lot of the beleaguered sign. The unicorn acknowledged the words with a small grimace; that title should have worked better for scaring customers away instead of attracting them. Seriously, who names a place the Inn of the Four Happy Cadavers? Rubbing her grimy-dirty hoof against her face, the pony wondered how could have that name bugged her for a half an hour already. It was melting her brain, knowing she had never been there... and yet remembered the way she had argued with Snips, staring at that very sign. The same Snips who was nowhere near at the very moment. I wonder if this what it's like to see multiple realities, she chuckled grimly. Guess I'd make one pretty poor God, huh? "I sure hope I never turn omniscient," she snickered and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought - and also the sensation of her sticky, dirt-covered face. "As things are standing, Master is more likely to turn unscient," Snowy sighed, then motioned at the door. "I suppose that we go inside now?" "After this walk? You bet!" the unicorn said and kicked the door open. The unicorn knew the inn from the inside as well. She blazed through the door, shoving it to the side with the force of a hurricane. Neither the dark interior, nor the disgusting, thick and oily smell deterred her; she knew the place and expected that sort of a welcome. There was no reason to take offence or to feel afraid. That oppressive atmosphere was all that the inn had to offer. She turned her head and gave a tiny nod to the gryphon behind the counter. The barkeep seemed confused, but didn't act on his suspicions even if he had any; he shrugged and returned to his work, polishing the shoddily washed drinking-glasses. "That barkeep doesn't look happy to see us," Snowy mumbled as she hopped onto a table, doing everything to keep her place on her master's side. "Maybe we should go and say hello... before he mistakes us for ruffians." "Yeah, good idea. Sure hope my language skills are up to scratch," the pony muttered under her breath, flashing a dark grin. The grin was immediately replaced by a pondering frown, though; she had no idea how she knew that the barkeep didn't speak equestrian. Stop getting confused, she grit her teeth and stepped towards the counter. I just need to tell him that I'm here to go down the trapdoor, and... Sneaking a glance to the distant part of the shady inn, she instinctively recognised the small wooden panel. She had no idea how she knew it was there, but she shrugged the oddity off. The bizarre had finally reached such levels that she stopped fighting against it. "Hola," she said dryly, setting a hoof onto the counter as if she were a regular. The gryphon behind the counter wasn't impressed. He finished cleaning the glass first. "Hola." He finally feigned a bored smirk, putting the glass down. "¿Qué quieres?" The unicorn returned a similarly fake smile and cocked her head to the side. "Entiendo," she glanced towards the trapdoor. "There's a pony waiting for me down there. Waiting? Waiting... er... esperar. Esperar! Invitada esperar, see? She's down there. Down there! Uhhh... abajo! Abajo allí." The words, punctuated by some heavy gesticulation, seemed to make it across. The barkeep nodded slowly, his beak moving as if he was chewing on something. "No hay problema," he mumbled, the feathers shifting on his forehead. "No dude en ir. Senoríta be waiting." "Ohh - so you're actually a decent guy!" Snowy purred contently. "I mean, I have no idea what you're saying... but the tone sounds good, so I guess you check out. Right, Master?" "Muchas gracias," the unicorn grinned to the gryphon and turned away from the counter. "Hop to it, Snowy. Let's not keep our guest waiting." The space between two tables too narrow to let two walk side-by-side, the windigo hopped onto a table to keep her pace next to her master, her legs shifting among the half-empty bottles. The two of them cut through the rest of the inn without any fuss; the pony ignored the patrons, making small deviations from her straight path whenever she came too close to an occupied table. The patrons had no perception of the windigo, so they weren't bothered by the ghostly being waltzing across their tables - not even when the ghostly hooves occasionally trampled over their drinks. The only issue they had on the way to the trapdoor was the sticky grease the unicorn's hoof had acquired. I wonder when was that counter was last cleaned, she pondered as she forced her hoof to come off from the ground. She had put that very hoof on the counter; the horseshoe, stained by the same sticky goo had also covered the counter, seemed to stick to the floor like the finest super-glue on each and every step now. Even with the odd walk that a sticky hoof forced, the trapdoor wasn't that far away. The unicorn used her magic and pulled on the heavy, cast-iron ring, bringing the door up; then she hopped into the dark hole before the door slammed back in place, her cyan figure accompanied by a dark-blue ghost. Even though the cellar wasn't too deep, the door still managed to close before the pony could land. The heavy wooden construct slammed shut with a resounding bang. The unicorn wasn't bothered by the extremely loud noise; she was preoccupied with making a splendid landing - on her back. Her sole luck was being soft enough to not rebound off the floor. "Oh my sweet everything..." she gasped, winded and counting the green dots dancing in her vision. "You should be more careful, Master!" Snowy landed next to her. Her incorporeal form weighing exactly nothing, the soft landing came easy to the windigo. "There was no need to jump - there were stairs available." Squinting to her extreme left, the unicorn noticed the old and weathered stairs. "Tell me earlier the next time," she coughed faintly and rolled to her side. Coughing and wheezing, she rose back to her wobbly hooves... and froze up as she saw her own self sitting five steps away from her, accompanied by a spider and a pink pony in a swivelling chair. Though utterly surreal, she was certain that she was seeing her own self from the outside. The cyan coat, the lyra-shaped cutie mark... there was no mistake about it. There was no other pony like that. And yet, there she was, watching that very unique existence from the outside. "What the buck!" she muttered and crept closer. "Okay... somepony finally tell me what's going on here!" No help came from the sources she had expected. The pink pony in the chair remained silent; her duplicate self kept staring with a vacant gaze; even her trusty - and babble-prone - windigo couldn't do more than gulp in surprise. "Nothing special. Ya've simply caught up to the present," the spider turned to her, four of his eight yellow eyes still remaining on the other, similar unicorn. "Take yer seat where ya've taken yer' seat... guess 'am the first to welcome ya' to back to yer' own self, Lyra Heartstrings." Silence followed. Only the fireplace crackled, the flames trying to fill the old cellar with a sense of warmth - and lots of smoke. Sitting firmly on her rear, Lyra stared numbly out of her skull, utterly dumbstruck. She was in a different place - or rather, in the place she had originally occupied. She was sitting right next to spider, in the place where she had earlier seen herself to sit. I'll never doubt out-of-body experiences ever again, she groaned and placed a hoof against her temple. Her mind was coping with bizarre experience at a snail's pace. It couldn't be helped. It was strange, suddenly remembering so much about herself; doubly so because she still had her old memories too. She remembered being stuck in a smelly prison, completely unaware of herself or the machinations that had brought her there. The incredibly - almost mockingly - fast trial she had with Luna, where she was deemed an impostor taking the place of Lyra Heartstrings of all ponies. Then came her walk through the unsavoury part of Canterlot, one which ended at a run-down inn... She made a sour grimace. She had duplicate memories of the events after Pinkie had left; that much was obvious. Only, those memories seemed to play out slightly differently. Some of the deviations were subtle, but she found others irreconcilable. Right... I erased all traces of myself to escape prison. And then Pinkie asked Discord to extend that forgetfulness to every servant, Lyra frowned, her skull tingling with all the fresh memories that had been crammed in there. The plan was freshly back, too. It was funny - to think she could forget about a plan she had accepted in such desperation. Then finally Axiom made me remember every memory I should have had. Guess he couldn't know if I forgot about the bits after he left me... so he made me remember everything that I remembered already. She rubbed her hoof against her face. Ugh... no wonder I feel like a wet rag. "Can't believe that actually worked out..." she sighed out loud - once she had managed to find her voice. It didn't feel long to her, but it could have taken several minutes for all she knew. "Is Master all right?" Snowy crept to her side, the windigo eyeing the pony with a worried expression. "Master sat down so suddenly, it was as if she collapsed!" Squinting at the blue ghost, Lyra gave a numb nod for an answer. That's right. Servants can't affect each other, she rubbed the side of her head. You didn't get any of these memories back... It was hard to tell who got the shorter end of the stick, though. The one who had no recollection - or the one left with a bunch of conflicting ideas about all recent events. So memories remade by Axiom are not that accurate, Lyra realised and chuckled sombrely. So much for returning to my old self, huh? "Well, that concludes ZE PLAN," Pinkie placed her hooves together, still rolling around in the swivel-chair. "Hope you're satisfied, 'cause I ain't giving refunds!" Lyra abandoned her musing about her own memories so she could give the pink pony a dry, humourless grin. "Of course I'm happy. I am out of that cell," she cackled, faintly and wryly. She couldn't let one bothersome worry unaddressed, though. "But it's not like I could be anything but happy either way, right? Since it was you planting my memories back in place, I mean." The swivel chair came to a stop. Pinkie sat parallel to Lyra, turning only her eyes so she was staring at the former musician. "Well, what could I say?" she snickered. "Everypony bases their assumptions on their own selves." Rearing her head back, Lyra made another dry cackle. Even if that remark was meant to be a joke, it was still spot-on. "Touché!" she curled her lips to a toothy grin. "You do know you're awfully complicit now, though? You're practically an enemy of Equestria now... along with me." The chair squeaking as it turned around, Pinkie rotated until she faced Lyra. "Well, we'll see about that." she said with a triumphant smirk, the chair's momentum making her turn away. "History is written by bakers, you know." "Already thinking about making history? Somepony's sure confident," Lyra toned her grin down a notch. "I'm pretty sure I was in jail until yesterday... and only got out because of an unlikely plan that hinged on the whims of a mad demigod." "Actually... that was more like two days ago." Pinkie giggled embarrassedly, scratching the back of her neck as she rotated around. "And well.... we kinda' needed more things come together than simply asking Discord for help. But you know what? It's a sign that we could pull all of that off! A sign that we're on the right track. You were chosen to win this game!" Chuckling darkly, Lyra shook her head. Chosen, she repeated the word. It was probably a coincidence, but that sounded almost as if the baker had become the spokespony for that annoying game master. I need a break... I'm thinking some very strange things now. Lyra crashed onto the floor, also pondering if that sudden paranoia was the result of Axiom tampering with her head. Though then again, the very thought of a servant writing memories into her head was high-grade paranoia-fuel in itself. "I'm so damn confused!" Lyra cackled emptily, lying limp on the floor. "What should I do now...?" "Oh, you're asking me?" Pinkie jumped up and down, rocking the chair. "I was never asked to make plans before! Say, say... Lyra! Which would you fancy being - sailor, or mutineer?" "Sailor...?" Lyra frowned, then glanced to her equally confused servant. "Mutineer?" "Well, the Princesses have no idea that you exist, so you've got a few days of headstart before they start moving in earnest." Pinkie stood on the slowly rotating chair, holding her front her legs wide open. "The first option is that we follow Ardent Dawn and sail to the other side of the world... or whatever the safe distance of the princesses' wrath is." Rolling her eyes, Lyra immediately rejected that plan. In a world where teleporting ponies existed, the two of them had little chance of going anywhere without a princess greeting them there. And just where would they go, anyway? Neither she, nor Pinkie, knew anything about Equestria's neighbour countries. They didn't even speak any other languages. "In case we pick the mutineer route, you can simply march to Canterlot Palace and well... convince the princesses that they were wrong all along. And that we were right, of course!" Pinkie struck a theatrical pose, keeping one hoof on her back and pointing at the ceiling with the other. Snorting as she muffled a laughter, Lyra shook her head. She particularly liked how plan B involved only her marching up to Canterlot. Seems like you're running away no matter what I pick, huh? Though then again, this is my fight. Shuffling her mane with a hoof, Lyra knew that choice - wasn't. Yeah, there's no way I can simply turn tail and run. What I did to Twilight... that only has meaning if I can end this game in turn. Though then again, 'ending the game' only sounded that simple in theory. That wish could only come true through trampling both princesses - with each of them being way more powerful than Lyra could ever hope to be. Snowy couldn't offset her disadvantages either, as the princesses had their own servants themselves... with the possible exception of Luna, on whom Lyra's opinion remained divided. On the other hoof, she was already in Canterlot - and in walking distance from the palace, with none of the princesses even knowing of her existence. She could catch both of them by surprise; a chance as good as she could ever get. Yeah. Surprise can be a great boon, Lyra mused as she rose from the floor. She vividly remembered how easily she prevailed over a magician much more capable than herself. That was the power of surprise. Surprise... and ruthless efficiency. Ruthlessness, Lyra squinted at Snowy. Just like the way I did away with Twilight. I need to give this my all and ignore every consequence, huh... She didn't need to deliberate for too long; she had barely any other choice but to go all-out anyway. She had already tried doing things the subtle way, but failing to abuse her powers had simply led her to a dark cell she wasn't keen on returning to. I'm not even sure why I'm so concerned. I can undo any damage as long as I get all the servants, she flashed a devious grin, her gaze meeting Pinkie's. Right... I guess it's really settled, then. With the fireplace quietly crackling in the background, Lyra cleared her throat and put on the most confident face she could muster. "Well! I say we give that mutiny thing a shot."