//------------------------------//
// Crocodile Chicken [History Overwritten] 
// Story: Split Second: An Eternity Divided 
// by wille179 
//------------------------------//

	The sun was setting swiftly, and ponies all throughout the town were heading back towards their homes. It was a nice night, most of them figured. The stars were coming out and there were few clouds in the sky.
“AHHHH!”
The filly's scream drew the attention of several ponies, who spotted the distressed and bleeding filly running into town. A nearby pony intercepted the distraught filly. “What is it, filly? What’s wrong?”
“M-mom! timberwolves! Help!”
“Wolves?” The stallion asked. “When? Where?”
Sparkle pointed a shaky hoof back the way she had come. “Th-that way.”
“Stay here, filly,” the pegasus replied. “I’ll go save your mom.”
He flared his wings. The stallion yelled, “Timberwolf attack! Help!” With a downthrust, he took to the skies, followed swiftly by other nearby ponies.
A mare ran up to Sparkle and pulled her into a hug. “Shhh... I’ll be alright. They’ll save yer mommy. Don’t worry.”
Sparkle nodded and sobbed. The emotions behind those tears might have been very real, but at that moment, they were absolutely crocodile tears.
The mare comforting her eventually calmed Sparkle down with soft, soothing promises that everything would be alright, and that her mom would be fine. However, it was not to be. The stallion that she had first alerted to the timberwolves landed next to them, and shook his head grimly. The mare’s grip around Sparkle’s body tightened, and the necromancer knew the bait had been taken. “Is mom gonna be ok?”
“I... I’m sorry. Your mom... she... she’s not coming back. She escaped to the great green pasture of Elysium.”
Sparkle’s wailing renewed itself. Oh, how she wished that was true, but she knew better. She knew the horrible truth, and it ate at her soul.
“Sugarcube,” the motherly mare holding her asked, “where’s yer dad?”
“I-I don’t know... I never knew my daddy. Mommy told me he got really sick when I was a baby,” she explained between sobs.
“Is there anypony who could look after ya here?” she asked.
Sparkle shook her head. “Mom and I haven’t been here before. I... I don’t know...”
“Oh dear. Thunderlane, do ya know where Soft Spot lives?” The mare asked.
“Soft Spot? The mare who takes care of the orpha-Oh. Her. Yes, I know where she lives,” Thunderlane replied.
The mare gave Sparkle a significant look, and then looked back at Thunderlane, who nodded in understanding. “My name is Peachy Sweet,” she told Sparkle. “What’s your name?”
“R-Rhodium,” Sparkle lied, giving the name she had made up for her fake persona. The name itself was the element directly below cobalt on the periodic table, and it was for that reason that she had chosen it. “B-but my mom calls me Rody.”
“It’s nice to meet ya, Rody. Ah tell you what, why don’t ya come with Thunderlane and ah, and we’ll get ya somewhere safe for the night. Does that sound alright?” Peachy asked.
Sparkle nodded. She knew exactly where they were taking her, having followed along with the conversation to a degree that no real child her age and in her “situation” would ever be able to. In fact, she was counting on it.
Thunderlane led them to a house, only distinguishable from the other houses nearby by the sign above the door, which was adorned with the figures of a colt and a filly surrounded by a heart. The pegasus knocked on the door rather urgently. When the door opened, an earth pony with a mulberry coat and a pale, sea green mane emerged. “Hello?”
“Soft Spot, this is Rhodium. Rody’s mom... got into a bit of trouble. Could she stay here with ya for the night?” Peachy Sweet asked, giving Soft Spot a look that implored don’t ask; I’ll tell later.
Soft Spot smiled. “Sure! Come on in. We’ll get that cut of yours all bandaged up, won’t we, Rody?”
“Rhodium” shuffled inside and let Soft Spot lead her to the bathroom, where the mare doctored up the facial cut.  At this point, Sparkle had stopped crying and had gone quiet. The combined stress of her act and her unbottled emotions had now left her numb and unfeeling, much as one would expect from a little filly in shock.
“Come here, Rody,” Soft Spot led her to a small bedroom with two beds in it. One had clearly been slept in recently, while the other looked slightly dusty from lack of use. On the side of the room with the used bed sat a small, wooden scooter. “Here we are. You can sleep here tonight, but that can wait for now. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
Sparkle shook her head. She was actually very thirsty, but she wanted to be left alone more than anything.
“Do you want somepony to talk to?” Soft Spot asked.
Again, Sparkle shook her head negatively.
“Alright. Well, the bathroom’s down the hall to the left if you need it, and I’ll be nearby if you need anything from me. If you want to be alone for now, that’s fine. My room’s down the hall to the right if you’d rather sleep with me. Or you can stay here, but you’ll have to share the room with another little filly.”
“M’fine,” Sparkle mumbled. “I want mommy.”
Soft Spot did her best to hide her frown. “I’m sure you do. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to have a quick chat with the kind ponies who brought you in. Wait here for just a minute.”
The caretaker hurriedly trotted out the room and down the stairs. As soon as she was out of sight, Sparkle quietly followed down the stairs, stopping as soon as she could make out Soft’s voice. “What happened?”
“Her mother got attacked by timberwolves. She died quickly.” That was Thunderlane, judging by the sound of the voice.
Soft gasped. “Oh no...”
“I asked Rody about her dad; from what I got, her father died when she was very young.” That was Peachy talking.
“Any relatives? Friends?” Soft asked.
“They were moving to Ponyville, but Rody didn’t name anypony,” Peachy replied.
“The mom had saddlebags with her,” Thunderlane said. “We found their papers inside.”
“That’s one thing at least.” Soft sighed. “Well, I’ll take care of her for now. I hope we can find somepony to take care of her, but I’ll gladly care for her for now. The other foals are sweet; I’m sure we can make her feel better.”
“What about the mother?” Peachy asked.
Thunderlane groaned sickly. “It was bad. I’ll spare you the details, but we’re probably not going to want an open casket funeral before we bury her.”
Sparkle’s eyes widened. They were going to bury Ruby? That wasn’t good. Sparkle needed any potential evidence gone. Luckily, between Canterlot tradition and rumors about her own past, she had an answer handy. “No! Don’t bury mommy!” Sparkle cried out as she rounded the corner.
“Rody!” Soft Spot exclaimed.
“Don’t bury her! She won’t sleep if you bury her! She’ll be stuck and get mad and the bone mare will make her crawl out!”
“The bone mare? Rhodium, who is the bone mare?”
Sparkle sniffed. “She’s the bad mare who turns dead ponies into monsters! You have to burn them to keep them safe from the bone mare!”
The three adults’ eyes widened. Peachy gasped. “The necromancer?”
Sparkle nodded and then lifted her special glasses slightly to wipe the tears away.
“On second thought, maybe the unicorns were on to something with their funeral pyres,” Thunderlane muttered. Soft Spot nodded in total agreement.
The caretaker walked up to Sparkle. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Rody. We’ll make sure the bone mare doesn’t get your mother. Now come on, you’ve had a rough day. Why don’t we get you all cleaned up and put you to bed. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”
“Thanks.”



Sparkle had a plan. The plan was straightforward enough, and the most complex parts were now finished. That didn't mean it would be any easier. Academically, she knew that this would be a difficult plan to follow, and possibly a commitment years in the running. She had been planning this for months now, even while she was still being reborn. She was ready for it.
Or so she thought. Up until that moment, she had only comprehended her plan logically, not emotionally. And yet, it only took one little thing for her to realize just how out of her depth she was in.
She had no toothbrush.
It was a trivial little problem. She would have just put off her morning tooth brushing until she could run to the store, except now that she was a foal in an orphanage, "running to the store" wasn't much of an option.
It dawned on her then just how much of her independence she had sacrificed in order to craft the identity of Rhodium and separate it from "Sparkle." She shuddered.
It was worth it, Sparkle told herself. It was completely worth it.
Her body disagreed, letting out a quiet sob. She tried to turn away from the bathroom mirror, but her hooves refused to move. Without her glasses on, her reflection glared back at her as if it were angry at her weakness. You raped Ruby; that's what your spell did to her, the reflection seemed to say. You sacrificed an unborn child and mutilated its body for your selfish desires. You caused her pain. You kidnapped her. You imprisoned her. You used dark magic on her against her will. You killed her. You destroyed her soul.
"What was I supposed to do?" Sparkle shouted in despair at her reflection. "I didn't have a choice!"
Her reflection didn't say anything, but her eyes held the truth she knew deep down, and yet didn't want to admit it. You did have a choice, foolish mare. You could have died. And you still have a choice: stop and get caught, and let Celestia banish you to Tartarus, or get a grip and move on.
"Is everything alright in here?"
Sparkle jumped and spun. Her eyes settled on Soft Spot, who was standing in the open bathroom doorway and looking at Sparkle with worry evident in her expression.
"I'm fine," Sparkle lied, her own eyes quickly darting to the floor. "But I don't have a toothbrush."
"In the drawer to your left, there's a bunch of clean spares; pick one you like," the caretaker replied.
Sparkle mumbled her thanks.
"Come downstairs when you're ready; breakfast will be ready soon and I'm sure you want to meet the other little colts and fillies."
Soon enough, Sparkle had prepared herself for the day, both physically and mentally. She quickly trotted down the stairs, which seemed really big compared to her small frame, and headed into the kitchen. The scent of hot muffins and fresh fruit greeted her nose. The next greeting she got came from a pony; specifically, it was from an orange pegasus filly. "Hey, it's the new filly," she said, drawing the attention of the other colts and fillies in the room.
The filly hopped off her stool and walked towards Sparkle. "Hi. I'm Scootaloo. What's your name?"
"It's..." The fake name took a second to come to her. "...Rhodium."
"Rhodium? Cool. Do you want to sit next to me?" Scootaloo asked.
Sparkle shrugged and hopped up on the seat next to Scootaloo's place, Scootaloo climbed back into her own seat. "Let me introduce everypony."
What followed was a flurry of names that Sparkle honestly didn't put much effort into remembering, though Sparkle noted to herself to try and learn their names at some point. What she did notice was that she was by far the youngest pony in the group, if you only went by biological age. She also noted that she looked a good year or two younger than Scootaloo, and was the only unicorn in the room.
"So, what are ya in for?" One of the other colts asked, before being promptly kicked in the shin.
"You don't ask that kind of thing!" The filly next to him said.
“Sorry."
The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of activity. Ponies came and went, some being shuffled off to school, others running off to play, and the orphanage staff doing whatever needed to be done. Through it all, Sparkle watched them from behind her shaded glasses. 
When the final dishes were put away, Soft Spot came up to Sparkle. "Rody, I know it must be hard for you right now. I just wanted to let you know that things will get better, I'm sure of it. Everypony in this house has gone through something like what you're going through, myself included, and we all know your pain.
"Your mom's funeral is going to be this afternoon. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I think it would make you feel better if you did. And don't worry, we won't bury her if you don't want us to."
Sparkle nodded.
"Good," Soft replied, smiling. "Now, is there anything you want to do before this afternoon?"
"Can I go to the library? Books always make me feel better," Sparkle said.
"We have some books here you might like," Soft Spot said. Sparkle's eyes narrowed in annoyance behind her glasses, her plan temporarily thwarted. "But if you don't see any you like, then we can go and get you some tomorrow. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Mmmhmm," Sparkle hummed appreciatively. It wasn't a total loss then, just a one-day delay until she could meet her sister again. On the bright side, it gave her an opportunity to get the final, major piece of her plan into action.
"Would you like me to read to you?" Soft Spot asked.
Sparkle scowled. Somewhere deep down inside her, Sparkle knew that it wasn't a slight against her reading abilities, but it still felt like it. "I can read on my own. I want to be alone."
"Oh, alright then," Soft replied. She then led Sparkle to the orphanage's small collection of books. Sparkle needed only a second to observe that most of the books were fiction and tailored for a young audience. She grabbed a book of the shelf at random - a Daring Do book - and trotted back to her room with the book held in her mouth.
Sparkle shut the door to her room and slid the lock into place. She may have slammed it in Soft's face, but at the moment, she didn't care. She could always apologize later. Double checking that the room was clear, she opened the portal to her pocket dimension.
Out stepped a Specter like no other before it. It had twenty five times the raw magic fueling it, rendering a full quarter of Thorn and her magic inaccessible for as long as it existed. The magical structure shaping it was almost six times as complex as normal, and it took her nearly an hour to cast it, rather than a few seconds. Its behavior was more complex than any specter she had made before, and its abilities were more numerous.
Its appearance was also vastly different than any specter she had ever made before. Gone was the swirling ink-in-water, vaguely pony-shaped figure. In its place stood a near exact copy of what Sparkle had looked like before she died, with two significant differences. First, her missing leg had reappeared, and second, the spectral Sparkle looked as if she were drawn with pencil and charcoal by a master artist. The specter was a grayscale copy of her. Only the horn on its head was in color, as it was Sparkle's original horn that Thorn had recovered.
Its presence even felt like her. Sparkle had designed the specter to fool every sense, including soul sight, to convince observers that it was the real Sparkle, just in wraith form. And, since she could control it remotely or let it work independently and knew what it knew, it could fill in for her in every way that mattered.
Well, almost every way. Specters couldn't initiate the time distortions that let her see Twilight; only her real soul could do that. That meant that she had to be close to it in order for Twilight to see it. But, since it could work in every other situation without her immediate presence, it was the perfect decoy,
She silently passed on her instructions to the fake wraith. Disappear for awhile. When I signal, be seen coming into town. Head to the library. Pretend to bend time by flaring magic.
Yes, Mistress, it replied.
The specter dismissed itself, fading into black smoke which rapidly vanished. Meanwhile, Sparkle unlocked the door to her room and then hopped up onto her bed. She had a few hours to kill at least before the funeral. Setting the book aside, she took up a relaxed pose and focused inward toward her magic, which she was still actively suppressing.
Slowly, she relaxed the suppression, careful to not let her magic escape her small body. Gripping it tightly with her mind, she began to slow down its spin and decompress it in an attempt to change its fundamental type. As it slowed down, it became more nebulous, more wobbly, and less potent. However, she had to fight it down, as it wanted to stay spinning.
Eventually, it came to a stop. Sparkle cheered quietly; she'd never gotten this far before! She focused even harder and started spinning her magic again, this time in a different direction. But before she could get it up to a useable speed, her magic collapsed, swirling in a great big mess as her dark magic reasserted itself.
Her eyes opened - she hadn't even remembered closing them - and she looked at the clock on the wall. Almost an hour and a half had passed. Sparkle groaned in frustration. Yet again, she'd failed at transforming her magic into a normal type. Cobalt and Sombra did the same thing in reverse every time they wanted to cast a spell, and they could do it in a second or two and hold it while casting. Even her old mentor, Black Hammer, could transform his dark magic into masculine type on demand, so why couldn't she make it feminine?
Still, there was no motivation like desperation, for she knew that so long as she was holding this identity, she could never use even the smallest amounts of dark magic where another pony could see her. Since her magic was naturally dark, that included things as simple as levitation and magic sharing.
If she slipped up, she'd be shipped back to Canterlot and she'd be ostracized again and she'd be forced to see the princesses again who would surely see through her disguise and ship her and Thorn off to Tartarus for a thousand years and-
Sparkle shook her head to clear the runaway thoughts. "Here and now, girl. Here. And. Now."
Her attention once more turned toward her magic. She'd taught Cobalt how to do this without being able to do it herself; she wouldn't bucking give up now. She had her pride, damnit.



The time of the funeral had come at last. Sparkle was actually amazed to see the turnout for a mare that nopony knew. The ponies who had searched for Ruby came, as well as the children and staff of the orphanage. Where Scootaloo went, so did her friends, and where they went, their sisters and sister figures weren't far behind.
Rarity walked up to Sparkle, who was sitting next to the unlit pyre with her head bowed. The white mare, who was wearing a black funeral veil, said, "I'm dreadfully sorry for your loss. My name is Rarity. I know that you don't know me, but I just wanted to say that if you ever need anything, you're free to come to me. I always have an open door for ponies in need."
Sparkle thanked her. Rarity replied, "Any time, darling. I mean it." And with that, Rarity took her leave, moving back into the rest of the crowd.
There was a service for Ruby. It was really nice, although it ate at Sparkle like acid. The lighting of the pyre couldn't come fast enough for her, and as the blaze burned higher and the sun started to set, Sparkle turned away and left. The light of the fire and the light of the setting sun made Sparkle cast two shadows. To her left, the shadow from the sun grew longer and darker, and ahead, her shadow writhed with the movement of the fire, as if taunting her.
Perhaps it was.



“Hey, Rody, you're rooming with me?” Scootaloo asked as she walked into the room, spotting the disguised necromancer lying on her bed.
“I guess so,” Sparkle replied.
“I was sleeping over at Applebloom’s house last night,” Scootaloo said, as if Sparkle cared about an explanation. The name Applebloom was vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place it. Was she the red maned filly that had been sitting next to Scootaloo at the funeral? “Hey, you don’t have your cutie mark yet!” Scootaloo realized. “You should join the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We’re on a quest to get our cutie marks together!”
Sparkle opened her mouth to decline, but then stopped. It could be fun to just play like a foal. Her first foalhood had been squandered up until she was eight because she was only interested in books, and then it was cut short by the bad mark on her flank, which was currently hidden by fur dye. Plus, if she acted like a foal, it would be one more thing to help hide her true nature until the right time came. “Sure.”
“Awesome! There’s so many things we’ll have to help you try! Like kayaking and hang-gliding and shoe tossing and..” Scootaloo continued to ramble on, listing out ideas that, while silly, sounded like fun anyway. Sparkle knew there was no point in her trying, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun.
“Hey, Scootaloo, I think you’re going about it wrong,” the little teacher inside Sparkle couldn’t help but voice. “I mean... a friend of mine who already had his cutie mark once told me that you always get cutie marks for things you’re good at and already do a lot. He had a magic shield cutie mark, and had been practicing shield magic for a long time before then because his father taught it to him. Another friend got a knife-throwing cutie mark because his family did a lot of knife throwing and he picked it up from them. Both of them realized that their marks were a perfect fit for them and neither had to try really hard to earn them.”
“So you're saying we get our cutie marks from our family? Because, if you haven’t noticed, we don’t exactly have a lot of that around here...” the pegasus pointed out.
Sparkle shook her head. “No. You get your mark by doing something that gives you purpose or makes you feel good. And I’ve heard that if you focus on one thing you really love, even if you aren’t that good at it, you can make yourself get a cutie mark for it.”
“Something that makes me feel good...”
“You’ll figure it out eventually,” Sparkle replied. “Everypony does.”
“Haha, you’re pretty smart.”



There was a knock on the door which drew Sparkle’s attention away from her magic, which caused it to collapse back into dark magic after yet another vain attempt to change her magic type. She groaned and suppressed it once more. “Yes?”
The door to her room creaked open. “Good afternoon, Rhodium,” Soft Spot said as she looked in.
“Afternoon, Ms. Soft Spot,” Sparkle replied. “What can I do for you?”
“We need to head on down to the schoolhouse to get you set up with Ms. Cheerilee. I won’t have misfortune interrupting the education of our precious children,” the earth pony caretaker declared.
Sparkle scowled. Yet another thing she wasn’t looking forwards to. At that moment, she regretted not making herself a few years older before starting her false identity plan.
“Hey, don’t give me that look! School isn’t that bad.”
Sparkle wiped the scowl off her face. “Sorry. I was thinking of something else.”
“I see. Well, come along then.”
One fifteen minute trot later, Sparkle caught sight of the red schoolhouse. A bemused expression crossed her face when she regarded the size. It was tiny; there was likely no more than one classroom in the building, and yet it was enough for an entire town? Canterlot would need one of these for every few neighborhoods. 
Sparkle could also see that school was still in session, seeing as several foals were running out the door and heading to the playground. A pink earth pony walked out the door behind them, and when Soft Spot saw her, the caretaker called out. "Ms. Cheerilee! Hello!"
"Oh, Ms. Soft Spot, how lovely to see you! And who might this be?"
The caretaker looked down towards Sparkle. "This is Rhodium. She'll be joining your class for now."
"Hello, Rhodium. How are you?" the teacher asked, lowering her head to look at Sparkle at eye level.
"Fine," Sparkle replied.
"And how old are you?" Cheerilee asked.
"Nine," she replied, giving the age her fake birth certificate implied.
"Have you ever been to school before, or were you home schooled?" Cheerilee asked.
"Mom taught me," Sparkle lied.
Cheerilee straightened back up. "Here, come inside. I'll get some things to test her with so we know where to place her." Turning towards the playground, she shouted, "Rumble!"
"Yes, Ms. Cheerilee?" The colt shouted back.
"I have to go inside for a bit; you're in charge until I get back."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Cheerilee returned her attention to Sparkle and Soft Spot. "Let's get started."



The test was grueling. Oh, the questions were easy enough; in fact, they were too easy, which was the problem. Sparkle had to consciously get some questions wrong in order to seem like she was less educated than she was. As a mare who strongly valued correct knowledge, it was torturous to intentionally fail.
And then, as Sparkle watched Cheerilee's eyes grow wider and wider as she graded the test, Sparkle realized that she may have failed to fail badly enough. At least being labeled a prodigy would be a valid justification for all the time she planned to spend in the library.
"Remarkable," the teacher said. "You did much better than I expected."
"Really?" Sparkle asked, playing the excited filly act.
"You did. I think you'd be bored if I placed you with the foals your age, so I can place you with the foals a year older, if you want. They meet on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, every week," Cheerilee explained.
"Three days a week?" Sparkle asked. In magic kindergarten, she'd had to go five days a week. Three days seemed awfully short to her.
"Yes, but we meet during the summer as well. That way, you can get all the education you need," Cheerilee replied. "So, do you want to be with the older foals, or-”
"Yes," interrupted Sparkle. "I want to be with the older foals."
"Excellent! Ms. Soft Spot, you can leave her here for the rest of the day. I'll send Rhodium home with some makeup work so she doesn't get left behind. Now, if you'll excuse me..." And with that, Cheerilee popped her head out of the one-classroom schoolhouse to call the other foals back in. Meanwhile, Soft Spot said her goodbyes and headed back to the orphanage.
The foals came back inside and Cheerilee gave Sparkle a generic-sounding introduction. When it was done, Sparkle took a seat in the back row, between the wall and a pink earth pony wearing a tiara. Said tiara-wearing pony then, in a whisper, introduced herself as Diamond Tiara. “You're young,” she added. “Let me help you make the right sort of friends.”
Sparkle listened to exactly three sentences ooze from Diamond’s mouth before she associated Diamond with the worst of the nobles up in canterlot - the same sort of nobles that had sent an assassin after her. Perhaps it was a bit unfair to the pink filly to be lumped in together with that group of ponies, especially when Sparkle had just met her, but the association stuck; you can’t un-think a thought once it’s been thought.
Sparkle lowered her head and looked at Diamond over the frame of her reflective shades. The moment they made eye contact, Diamond Tiara flinched. “No thank you.”
Diamond Tiara humphed with disdain. “Suit yourself. But remember, I did offer.”
One absolutely riveting lecture on basic math later, Sparkle found herself suddenly dragged off by Scootaloo to meet the orange pegasus’ friends. “Come on. Let me introduce you to the rest of the crusaders. This is Apple Bloom.” 
The earth pony waved. 
“And this is Sweetie Belle.”
Sweetie nodded. Sparkle recognized her from when Thorn had rescued Rarity from the Diamond Dogs. 
“And together, we’re THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!”
Sparkle rubbed her ears to clear out the ache from the impressively loud group shout. “Interesting.”
“So, Scoots says yer interested in joinin’, right, Rhodium?” Applebloom asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be lots of fun!” Sweetie Belle squeaked.
Sparkle shrugged. “Meh. Sure, I guess.”
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS: NEW MEMBER! YAY!”
“Please stop doing that right next to my ear,” Sparkle said. “It’s a bit loud.”
“Sorry,” Sweetie Belle bashfully apologized. “It’s habit.”
“So, whatcha want to do first, Rody?” the yellow filly asked.
Sparkle pretended to think on it, though she already had a destination in mind. “I want to go to the library for some books.”
“Really? That sound’s kinda lame...” Scootaloo said, muttering the second half.
“I want to be a teacher,” Sparkle replied, “but I have to be really smart for that.”
Sweetie and Applebloom shrugged. “Can’t argue with that logic,” the former replied. And with that, the trio-turned-quartet galloped off to that magical place of learning that wasn’t the school they had just left.