His jaw went slack, and he stepped back from his Master—and her order. “What?”
“I know your ears work,” Chrysalis snapped, stepping forward and killing the distance he had created. “Your training is over. The Hive has given you your first mission. Kill me.”
The words echoed in the empty cavern, inescapable and unmistakable in their brevity.
He trembled under them. Their authority demanded his obedience, but they were impossible to follow, regardless of the consequences of his success. Not once in all his training had he been able to so much as scratch her hide with a strike or a bolt. He looked into her eyes and spoke the truth. “I can’t.”
A wave of green fire threw him to the ground before he even noticed her horn glow. “I did not train a coward! Get up! You will not fail me!”
Cherry Blossom’s reflection stared back at him from the sliding door mirror. He smiled, and the muscles in his face took the new positions he had drilled into them over the afternoon. The untouched bed behind him faded away in his mind, replaced by tables of seated and chatting unicorns and potted plants hanging underneath an awning, and the face in the mirror did not look out of place.
He could almost smell it again, the cheese and onion soup they had shared there in the cafe.
He dropped the smile, biting down on his lower lip. With a tilt of his head, strands of his new white mane covered his face. He held back a laugh and brushed them away with his hoof. It felt just as soft as he remembered in the alley.
Pacing the length of the room, his body felt lighter than it had when he first took Cherry’s form, but the flow of magic under his skin still brushed against his mind, pushing for the return to his usual size. The aches had faded over the hours, however, and he barely felt them as he strolled by the mirror once more.
Satisfied, he gave in at last, and both muscles and magic stretched out, shifting Cherry’s image to Dawnbreaker. Dawnbreaker shifted to the guard, the guard to Cherry, until one final flash of green left his true form looking back at him.
He studied his reflection carefully. No sweat dripped from his brow, nor did his breath fog the mirror. His backplate remained straight in its proper place, and his gleaming fangs bared in a grin.
Briefly, he wondered what Celestia would think of him in her final moments, when she saw his glowing eyes staring into hers, and her cry for help bled from the wounds in her throat. A monster, most likely, or simply an enemy, at best. She would never see him as he did: a proud changeling serving the duty he had been assigned by his Queen and family.
Dawnbreaker returned, and he surveyed the room behind him. A few scraps of food remained in the wicker baskets by the nightstand, but he had eaten his fill. Bits were still strewn about the nightstand, offering a few more comforts on his way out of Equestria. He left them behind.
Canterlot’s skyline glowed in the setting sunlight outside, but he looked away from it. The flow of ponies on the street had trickled down to a stream, and he walked alongside them, ready to taste the fresh water of a true river on his tongue, something no pony or amount of bits had been able to give him in this city.
He slipped into an alley, ducked out of sight behind a corner, and flew up to the rooftops. The alleys and backroads had been his hope the last two weeks, and even as he looked down on them now his mind played out the most efficient ways to run through them, his imaginary self dashing around corners and under cover to escape the guards.
Patchwork patterns in the stone stood out to him, his guides for his early days here, but now he let himself look to the sky, opening up to him behind the castle towers in the distance. After tonight, there would be no reason to dip and duck in Canterlot’s alleys. He could vanish into the starlight beyond Canterlot, and the wilderness it promised, with all the forests and mountains and pathways he had traveled with the Hive.
He was going home.
The grocery store on Ninth Street passed by, and he stopped, chuckling and brushing a hoof by his muzzle, her phantom touch ghosting through his memory.
Focus.
Living among the ponies did nothing to teach him a distinction between history and legend, but both claimed Celestia had lived for over a thousand years. Wishing and wanting her death accomplished nothing.
He looked again at the castle towers getting closer and closer with each roof he crossed. Even now, he could see one jutting up just a bit higher than the others, one that was a bit wider as well. For so long, he had seen the castle as one giant thing, but now he saw the one place he needed to be. He had all the tools and information he needed. It was time to bring it together.
Before that, he had to slip by the guards one last time. He scanned the sky again, but he was still too far away to make out any golden shines in the waxing moonlight.
More importantly, he had to wait for his signal to enter. His eyes dropped to the streets below. The sun had set, and it was time for her to leave, yet he reached the edge of the city against the castle walls before he saw her.
Cherry Blossom stepped onto the street, looking back as one of the guards spoke. She smiled and spoke in return, something that made both guards laugh, and her as well. Her cheer lingered as she trotted away.
He smiled in kind as he watched her slender body cut through the crowded way. She kept her head up to see, and she danced around every pony in her way, flicking her hair away from her eyes when it fell too close. Her steps were light and unencumbered by any burden he could perceive, and nothing slowed her stride as it carried her farther and farther away from him.
Two guards remained at the gate, and the sky patrols—
He turned away from the castle and searched the ponies below, watching her until she was swallowed up by the flow of carts along the street. “Be safe.”
Keeping watch on the sky, he made his way along the roof. Though he couldn’t see it over the wall, he reached a point directly across from Cherry’s shack. A flight of pegasi swooped down, and a pair of unicorns on the ramparts waved up to them. The two squads moved apart from each other, and he glided down between them, dipping inside the shack.
A sliver of moonlight followed him, far too little to hide his transformation. After his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the clutter to reach the workbench, and the blanket hanging over its side. He slung it over himself and huddled down, shifting forms as quickly as he could.
His body groaned in protest for a brief moment, but it quickly faded. He stood up and pulled the blanket off with a pink hoof. A quick look back confirmed his white tail and the five petals on his flank.
He rummaged through the shack and found a watering can, and he filled it from the hose. Taking it in his mouth, he stepped back into the night and turned around the corner to the gardens.
The faint calls of an owl accompanied him along the way to the ballroom—and towards the guards that would be waiting at the end of the promenade. He stopped and took a breath before stepping off the path, and he charged through the cool grass of the Party Grounds at a reckless gallop.
Two guard stood at the purple doors, and he skidded to a halt in front of them, spilling water to the ground and over his chest. He turned his head back and forth between the guards over and over again, wrapping his lips around the can’s handle as he chewed on it.
One of them hid a smile behind his hoof. “You forgot again? This is the third time this week! What’s gotten into you lately?”
He let a low whine escape his throat.
The second pushed the door open with a chuckle. “Now, now. There’s no need for that. Go on through.”
He sighed, drooping his shoulders, and tried to flash them both a smile past the handle. He darted through.
Torches lined the hallway, and the whispers of their flames were the only sound he could hear in the stillness as he strolled along the carpet. The Grand Hall lay ahead, bathed in moonlight alone, and a pair of shapes made their way through it, heading for the far hallway.
One stopped and turned to face him, the gleaming gold of his armor catching the light as he did so.
He couldn’t make out a face, but he flapped his tail overhead as he continued toward the Hall.
The guard waved a hoof and followed his partner.
Celestia’s tower rose from the heart of the castle. He elected to follow the guards deeper into the halls rather than climb to the second floor. With luck, no other patrols would follow in their wake, and their inspection—coupled with his sense of direction—would lead him to the foot of his goal. He quickened his pace.
One last door lay on his left before he entered the Hall, and it swung open just as he passed by.
He glanced over, smiling at whoever opened it.
Cherry Blossom stepped out with a relieved sigh, carrying a bag of vegetables in her mouth.
They stopped.
Her eyes widened.
His narrowed.
Cherry took a breath.
He charged her, dropping the mask, and her scream choked off into a gasp. He tackled her back into the room, dropped the water can out of his fangs, and thrust a black hoof into her mouth, glaring down. “What—”
She bit deep into the soft underside of her impromptu gag, and the fire in her eyes matched his. Her head jerked, tearing at his hoof.
Growling, he bit down on his lip and vented the pain. “Stop—”
Her hoof smacked against his jaw.
He hooked his free foreleg around hers and twisted her around, pinning her other leg under her body. A muffled yip relieved the pain of her teeth, and he seized the distraction by straddling her hind legs with his own.
She frantically shook her head, writhing in his grip, but her eyes betrayed her. They flicked over his shoulder.
The door!
He glanced back, seeing it still open, and seeing one of her hooves lift as high as it could go over the cold tile floor. He risked another green flash, and smiled down at her with Dawnbreaker’s mask.
She gasped, and her jaw went limp. The tension—the fight—left her muscles, and her body let his sink closer, pinning her further. No air passed over his leg from her nose or mouth.
Dawnbreaker kept his smile, and he tilted his head back to the door. “Don’t. Scream.”
She nodded slowly.
He got up and peeked into the hallway, perking his ears up. Nothing. He shut the door and turned back to Cherry. “What are you doing here?”
Her tail tucked between her hind legs, and they pulled tight against her body—completely exposed under the hanging bulb in the center of the pantry. One of her fores lifted, pointing a shaking hoof at the scattered vegetables next to the shelves.
“Right. Dinner.” He groaned and rubbed his head, dropping Dawnbreaker to take his true form again.
Cherry pulled her legs tighter in. “Where’s Dawn?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Wh-where’s Dawn?”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes!” She pushed herself halfway up, two tracks of tears tears glistening down her cheeks. “Tell me he’s okay. Tell me you didn’t hurt him! Please!”
He cocked his head. “I am Dawn. I was always Dawn.”
“No.” Her eyes searched his, and he stared back until she sank down, gaping at him in a wide-eyed stupor. “Y-you’re a changeling. You kidnap ponies. It can’t... you’re not Dawn.”
“We met at your favorite diner, and you slipped your peach pie on my check.” The memory played briefly as he said it, and he shoved it aside, continuing on. “I helped you carry a delivery to the gate, and you told me about working here along the way. You told me it would be my turn to talk the next time we met, and I did, when I told you about serving my Queen.”
She shook her head. “No...”
He nodded. “I walked beside you in the gardens, and you showed me the roses. I walked with you into the alley after I found you again. I even walked you home, like a gentlecolt through and through.”
A word failed to pass her lips, and she pressed a hoof to them. “I kissed you.”
He tapped his cheek. “You did.”
Her lip quivered. “I trusted you...”
“You helped me, and you can help me again.” He crouched down to her eye level. “I need to see Princess Celestia. What’s the fastest way to her tower?”
She crept away from him. “Who are you? Really?”
“I am a servant of the Hive. That’s all that matters.”
She shook her head. “You—”
“Celestia,” he said, taking a step forward. “How do I find her?”
“Why? Why are you here?”
He stood, studying her for a long moment, preparing his story. “Because you were right. My Queen sent me here because of the invasion. We lost, badly, and I’m here to deliver a message for her.”
“Why me?” Her eyes glistened. “Why did you use me?”
“You were here after the battle was over, just like I was.” He pointed towards the gate, and to the city. “I didn’t exactly have the option of showing myself out there. I would have been slaughtered.”
She retreated behind her mane. “You know the guards hate you, too. You looked like me. You came here at night, asking where the Princess sleeps. I—” She gulped, and whispered, “I don’t believe you. You aren’t a messenger.”
“Well, I never called you an idiot.” He reached out and pulled her hair away. “Believe what you want, but I am going to see Princess Celestia tonight. Will you tell me where she is?”
Cherry’s gaze lingered on his hoof. “I can’t let you go.”
He laughed. “You really are loyal to her, aren’t you? Another point you were right about—we’re too similar in that regard.” He bent down, but she didn’t move a hair. “I came here tonight because I thought you would be out of the way. Leave.”
She looked at him—eyes clear and focused—and made to stand up. “Only if you come with me.”
He snapped his jaws inches from her face, smirking as Cherry clenched her eyes and lowered herself back down. “You’re not in much of a position to make demands.”
“Neither are you,” she shot back. “Something else we have in common, Dawn.”
“Don’t call me that!”
She tried to stammer out a word, swallowed, and met his eyes. “You held me. When I cried in the alley. A-after you brushed my hair away. Why?”
“Because...” I had to. You needed me to. I needed you— He shook his head clear. “You helped my mission. It was a small price to pay.”
“Well, don’t stop there.” She let out a chuckle. “What about last night? You were there for me. Tell me that was a lie.”
What is she playing at? “No. It wasn’t.”
Her lips curved up into a small smile. “You said you’d let me go. You’re still worried about me. If you wanted to hurt me now or anytime this week, I couldn’t stop you. But you never tried. I know you won’t.” She touched his hoof, and began to push herself up—slowly. “I know you.”
Snarling, he lunged forward, and Cherry fell back to the floor. “You know what I wanted you to know! The only reason you’re still alive is because Chrysalis told the world we exist! You don’t know how many I’ve killed to keep that secret.” He snapped his fangs at her again. “I killed my own brother!”
Cherry threw a leg over her face.
“Every second I’ve spent in this city has lead to this, Cherry! I’m sick of it. Set me free. Tell me where she is!”
She shook her head. “They’ll kill you!”
He pounded his hoof. “I am a killer!”
“I don’t want you to get hurt!”
“Stop pretending you care, pony!” He opened his magic to her, ready to feel the truth of his words, and a hot coal burrowed through his flesh and bone to settle in his heart. He sprang away from her, clutching at his chest.
Cherry reached for him, but her leg curled back to her chest. Her others braced themselves on the floor, and she worried at her lip.
Impossible. He was a changeling. She was a pony. Yet the coal still seared his veins. “What are you?”
“I... I’m a friend.” She stood and took a tentative step forward. “I’m your friend, Dawn.”
Dawn. A pony. A friend. A mask. “Don’t call me that.”
She sat down. “Then what should I call you?”
Brother. That was all he was. He sat, trying to hear it in her voice. It sounded strange. “I don’t have a name.”
She studied him, her eyes flicking between his, and looking him over. “Okay.” Her hoof ran through her mane. “Okay.” It fiddled on the floor. “Okay, you need to get out of here. Where are the others?”
The Hive. But she was a pony. “I don’t know.”
Her hoof returned to her hair. “Okay. How many are here? Can we get out before the guards find them?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen any others since they were launched from the city. I’m alone.”
“But... there were so many...” She covered her face. “This doesn’t make any sense! Why would they send you alone?”
“I was supposed to protect us. Keep us secret. Now the world knows we exist.” He sighed. “We’ll never be safe again, but I still have my role. Chrysalis trained me to be her weapon. I have to strike.”
Cherry grabbed his hoof. “Don’t sit there and tell me you’re a weapon! A weapon can’t feel like you can! You’re more than that! I felt it! Surely you can feel it, too.”
He saw the blue glow of his eyes reflected in hers—unflinching and unafraid, pulling him in to take the full measure of him. He leaned away, averting his gaze.
Her face drifted back into view. “I can get you out of the city. If we hurry, we can catch a late train to Ponyville. I’ll pay your way. I’ll even give you a letter for my parents. You can spend a few days there and leave whenever you’re ready. No one has to know you were here.”
News of the death of a goddess would ring from all corners of the world. If he returned with silence... “My family would know. I can’t go home a coward.”
“Then start over! If they don’t care if you live or die, you need to find a new home!”
He twisted the hoof that held his, pulling her closer and baring his fangs with a low growl. His breath blew against her mane, but the blue reflections in her eyes remained stubbornly fixed and steady. “Celestia. Now.”
She blinked and looked away. “Third floor. Down the hall from the tree I showed you. There’s... there’s a stairwell that goes up to a museum. You want the doors across from it.”
He eased away, letting go of her hoof. “Go home, Cherry. Go home, and let the guards see you leave. I promise not to use your face anymore. Whatever happens tonight, you won’t be affected.”
She shook her head and choked off a sound that might have been a laugh. “You know that isn’t true.”
“Then stay. Just don’t interfere.” He turned away, raising a hoof to the door.
“You didn’t hurt me, you know.”
He froze, and his hoof rested on the door, his muscles tense. “You’re right.” But she was also loyal to Celestia. She owed Celestia more than he could give her. Leaving her was a risk.
She touched his shoulder, and he acted, pivoting and lashing out with his hoof.
Cherry fell, sprawled out on the floor, her rising and falling chest her only sign of life. He turned away, closing his eyes to her and pushing lightly on the door, stopping just before it opened.
It would only take a moment. He pulled out a sack of flour and rested her head on it. He brushed her mane behind her ear, and whispered into it: “Don’t follow me.”
The halls were clear, and he ascended to the second floor.