She flew high in the endless sky, nothing but a sea of blue and the occasional cloud in sight. The perfect breeze allowed her to soar effortlessly as the gentle rays of the sun caressed her coat.
"This is so awesome!" she attempted to say, although no sound would escape her muzzle. A mild panic overpowered her as she attempted to speak. Some unseen, oppressive force crushed her lungs. She attempted to scream, to no avail. The air felt heavy. It crushed her lungs and weighed her down.
She first saw a shadow from the corner of her eye. Soon, the vague silhouette of a pony towered over her, envelopping the entire sky. She flapped harder, but her muscles felt sore. The harder she tried to fly away, the more it felt like she was drawn toward the looming shadow.
She fell within the darkness, into the opened beak of a griffon, blood pouring out of its eyes. Its features almost seemed familiar. "I'm so sorry," she managed to say.
Her lips trembled as she awoke on the cold, damp floor of her cell. The same dream again, the same shadow looming over her. She attempted to get up, her left hind leg making her wince in pain as she accidentally put weight on it. In another life, she had been in a battle. She had fallen and crushed her leg, and it never healed properly.
Droplets of water fell from the ceiling. She blinked her remaining eye a few times, but couldn't make out anything in the darkness of her cell. Day and night had lost meaning in this place. Sometimes, she would be left alone for days, wondering if they would remember to feed her. Her tormentors could come at any moment though. Sometimes they would ask questions. Other times, they would beat her for no reason other than she was their prisoner. Every noise coming from outside the stone wall caused her to shake in her corner, fearing whatever torture they had planned for her.
They can't break me, I'm awesome.
She slowly crawled to the corner of the room where she usually hid her food - under a loose stone on the floor. This was at least her fourth hiding place. She would sometimes find her hidden cache of damp oats empty; presumably her captors took everything while she slept. They hadn't found them all, though. She was too clever for them. She was in the middle of removing the stone when she heard the door being unlocked and creak open behind her.
"So, that's where you've been hiding the good stuff," a gruff voice mocked from behind her.
Not now, please not now. She curled up in a ball. They can't touch me, I'm awesome.
"Let's see what you have here," the voice continued as a strong claw easily pushed her away. She dared not open her eye, but recognized Crackbeak's voice. She didn't know any of the guards' names, so she invented her own.
"Look at that," he said with a laugh. "Four miserable pieces of oats. You eat when we tell you to eat, pony." She braced for the kick she knew would follow.
"Leave her alone," a female voice calmly ordered. This one was familiar: it was the liar. The liar would act nice, but she couldn't be trusted. It was all her fault.
"Why'd you always have to ruin my fun, Gilda?" Crackbeak said.
"Just empty her chamber pot and leave her food," the liar said.
The loud sound of a bucket being dropped made the prisoner jump. Her eye opened for a moment, and she saw Crackbeak's vicious yellow orbs staring at her. Faint illumination from the torch in the hallway burned her eye. How long had it been since she had seen something other than darkness?
"Look who's coming out to say hi," the griffon teased as he grabbed her head with his claw.
The liar stayed back. The prisoner saw her silhouette, silently observing from the shadows.
Tears welled up in the prisoner's eye. "They can't harm me, I'm awesome," she weakly mumbled, too low for her tormentors to hear.
"You have something you want to tell me, pony?" Crackbeak asked. He ran down the length of her face with a sharpened claw.
"Leave the questioning to the interrogators," the liar said as she moved out of the shadows and motioned for Crackbeak to follow her. "We have other prisoners to feed."
Crackbeak glared into the prisoner's eye for a moment before shoving her unceremoniously to the cold floor. "Fine. I'll be back for you later, pony."
With that, she was left alone. The door was slammed shut, leaving her in darkness once more. The blackness was her only friend. In the dark, none of them would hurt her. She had once enjoyed the light, back when she knew the sky. No! That was another pony. That was the pony who resisted. That pony got beaten every day for talking back.
She crawled to the bucket the guards had left, carefully sniffing its content. Stale oats were mixed with blood left over from whatever else had been in there before. She forced herself to take a bite, knowing full well the griffons might come and take the food away at any time. She cringed at the metallic aftertaste. Her stomach churned, but she managed to keep it under control. On countless occasions before, she had puked when this stench assaulted her nostrils. Sometimes, remains of dead animals were left in the bottom of the barrel. She had once been forced to nibble on a rat's bones when they had forgotten to feed her for what felt like days.
A few bites were all she could stomach. She carried a hoofful of oats and hid it next to the door. When they opened it, it would hide her food. The guards never closed the door when they came in. They weren't used to the darkness like she was. They can't trick me, I'm awesome. She made sure not to hide too much. It would get suspicious if she did, and they would search the room.
She went to a different corner and curled up to sleep. She tried to hug her tail, but as usual, only found a shaved, skin-covered tailbone. She drifted back into unconsciousness.
A spider crawled across her body, climbing between two ribs. Its tiny legs tickled her skin. "Hey there," she whispered. She once had a friend who could talk to animals. No! Don't remember her. If you remember her you might betray her. She breathed in and out. Such flashes from her old life would often come. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn't stay away.
She shook her head and placed her hoof on her body, prompting the spider to climb onto it. She brought it in front of her face. If she looked really hard, she could make out its features, even in the pitch blackness of her cell.
The sound of steps coming toward the door prompted her to gasp. "Quick, hide," she whispered. The last time Crackbeak found her talking to a bug, he crushed it and threw it in her food. The spider crawled away into a crack on the floor.
The door opened and the liar walked in, a torch in one of her claws. "Come on, Dash," she said.
The prisoner slowly got up. This was another trick. The liar would act nice, but Crackbeak would hide, waiting to beat her. She had learned, and wouldn't be tricked anymore.
"This is your chance to get out of this," the liar continued, again pretending to be her friend. "Just please, tell them what they want to know."
The prisoner kept her head bowed as the liar bound her wings with a leather strap. A gentle push prompted her to limp forward. She wobbled every time she had to put weight on her crushed leg.
She was taken out of her cell and through a stone hallway illuminated by torches on the walls. The flames burned her eye as she attempted to shield it.
"I'm really sorry for this, Dash," the liar said as she led the prisoner to the end of the path. "If only you hadn't gotten involved."
Liar! Liar! Liar! She flinched, but remained silent.
"I have my orders," the liar continued. "Just please, tell them what they want, and all of this can end."
The prisoner stopped. "Will you kill me?" she asked in a raspy voice.
Her whole body twitched as the liar placed a claw on her shoulder. "I want to get you out of here, Dash. If you tell them what they want, maybe I can at least get you a more comfortable cell, better food. Please, you have to trust me."
The prisoner looked away as her entire body trembled. It's a trick. It has to be a trick. Don't say anything.
"Have it your way," the liar said with a sigh.
She was led to a room at the end of the hall. A large table was inside, with a griffon sitting behind it. This one was new; the prisoner hadn't seen her before. She sported well-trimmed gray feathers and small glasses covering her green eyes. She didn't quite fit with the room, like the one fresh apple in a bucket of rotting fruit. She opened a file folder in front of her and started reading. The liar stood in a corner, next to Crackbeak.
The strange, well-preened griffon kept reading the file. The prisoner shivered, but could not avert her eye. The sound of pages being turned echoed within the room, accompanied by her own racing heartbeat.
A large mirror at the end of the room captured the prisoner's attention. She didn't speak or move. The figure that looked back at her was a pitiful bag of skin stretched over bare bones. Its coat was graying and filthy. Where once a vibrant mane might have been, rough patches of hair were struggling to grow. The entire right half of the creature's face was covered in scars, from a pierced eyeball to a shredded ear. "That isn't me," she whispered. "That isn't me! That isn't me! That isn't me!" She cried as she begged her own reflection.
"Name and rank," the well-coiffed griffon asked, her voice calm and impersonal.
The reflection in the mirror kept the prisoner's attention. Her remaining teeth were yellow and rotten. Two had been removed by her captors.
"Name and rank," the interrogator's voice asked again, her voice as unflinching as before.
Crackbeak stepped forward and forcefully brought her to a wooden chair in front of a large bucket of water. He hit her hard behind the head. "Answer the question."
"Rainbow Dash," she weakly uttered. "Wing Commander Rainbow Dash." The name felt strange on her lips. Familiar, yet alien.
"Incorrect," the interrogator said, her eyes still glued to the file.
The prisoner screamed as Crackbeak grabbed her without warning and pushed her head under the water. Her wings strained against their bonds as water entered her lungs. Finally, she was released. She coughed up dirty water and gasped for breath.
"Name and rank," the interrogator repeated.
"Prisoner." It was as good a name as any. An apt description of her existence.
"What is your purpose, prisoner?" the interrogator continued.
The prisoner gazed at the creature in the mirror again. Such a pitiful bag of bones could not have a purpose. She apparently waited too long, as her head was violently forced into the water again. She pushed back with what little force she had left, attempting to get out. It was no use. Crackbeak was too strong. She coughed water out of her lungs as her head was pulled out.
"What is your purpose?" the interrogator asked again, her voice flat and unchanging.
She struggled to breathe as she leaned over the bucket. "To answer your questions," she mumbled between sobs. "My purpose is to answer your questions."
"To speak the truth," the interrogator corrected as she finally raised her eyes from the file and looked at the prisoner. This time, she knew what to expect and held her breath before her head was pushed into the bucket.
She was held in longer this time. Her body struggled, fighting for breath until she couldn't fight anymore. Her vision blackened. She had all but given up when Crackbeak pulled her out. I just have to tell them what they want. It isn't hard. It's just words. It doesn't mean they broke me if I just speak words, does it?
The interrogator closed the file. "How did Twilight Sparkle become an alicorn?" she asked.
"She completed Starswirl's unfinished spell," the prisoner replied. They had to know this already. It couldn't be betrayal; this was all a test. That's from another life. It happened to another mare.
"Where did she find the elements of harmony?"
They want to trick me, but I won't let them. "In the Everfree forest. In the Castle of the Two Sisters."
"Where is she now?"
"Gone, gone, gone," the prisoner mumbled. "She's gone."
"How can her shield be broken?"
"There is no shield. She's gone! Gone, gone, gone!" She held her head with her hooves. This is all a trick! Maybe the other pony knew, but not me. She's not me.
She almost vomited as her head was violently shoved inside the bucket again. She barely had the strength to struggle this time. The moment she was dragged out, she expulsed the contents of her stomach. A mix of dirty water, yellow bile, and half-digested oats spewed into the bucket.
"How can Twilight Sparkle's shield be broken?"
"I don't know." She softly cried. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." The question makes no sense. How can I answer a question that makes no sense?
Only a hit to the back of her head came this time. It took her by surprise, making her bite her own tongue. She spat some blood. The metallic taste still lingered in her mouth.
"How can Twilight Sparkle's shield be broken?"
"She never said." Twilight is dead. Why do they keep asking about a dead pony?
The interrogator took a few notes in the file. She nodded at the guards, who got the prisoner back on her hooves.
She was taken out of the room by Crackbeak and through the hallway again. Surely she would be sent back to the darkness of her cell. She dragged her hooves as she felt like puking again, prompting Crackbeak to hit her. "Move, pony. I don't have all day."
She was taken past her cell to an area she had never seen. All the hallways looked the same, but she remembered the twists and turns of this stone labyrinth. Finally, they arrived in front of another stone door, which Crackbeak opened. Inside was another table, with another mirror, and another bucket. No, no no! They can't hurt me, I'm awesome.
A short, fat griffon sat behind the table, reading a file out of a folder. "Name and rank?" he asked.
The same pattern had been repeated more times than she could count. Every time, the same questions. Sometimes, they would use a different mirror, one that distorted her features beyond her normal disfigurement. Other times, it was the bucket of water that got replaced by a soldier with a whip, or even electroshocks. The sessions sometimes lasted a few minutes, other times it seemed like hours. More questions would be asked, about Ponyville, Canterlot, Cloudsdale, about many ponies she might have known in another life.
"How many ponies live in Ponyville?"
"How did you meet Soarin?"
"How did Twilight Sparkle defeat Discord?"
"Where is the Tree of Harmony located?"
She would answer when she could. Sometimes, she didn't know the answers and would be punished, or she wouldn't even understand the questions. It seemed like she would be punished at random, sometimes even after providing the answer.
After a few sessions, she would be returned to her cell. Sometimes, they would pick her up for another session mere moments later. Other times, she would be allowed some time to rest. How many days had passed, she couldn't tell. Perhaps it had been weeks, perhaps only hours. She gave the exact same answers every time: the ones she hoped wouldn't get her drowned, electrocuted, cut, or maimed. The last question was the one she could never answer. Twilight Sparkle was dead. What did they mean by her shield? Maybe she did know, or had once known.
No! You can't remember. If you remember the other pony's life, you might betray the other pony's friends. She buried her head under her legs.
But if I remember, maybe the pain will stop. What if the liar didn't lie? My purpose is to tell the truth. The truth! The truth! It has to be somewhere in my useless prisoner head. She tried to stand, but her crooked leg forced her back to the ground. She had to get these thoughts out of her head. Prisoners don't think.
The door creaked and slowly opened. She backed away in a corner. Not again, please not again! I don't know! Two soldiers she hadn't yet seen stepped in. She curled up in a ball, prompting one of them to grab her by the nostrils and pull her up. She winced as she was forced to put some weight on her crushed leg.
She mumbled to herself as she was dragged out of her cell and toward what would surely be another painful session. "They can't hurt me, I'm awesome. They can't break me, I'm awesome."
The prisoner was brought to one of the torture rooms. She kept repeating her familiar mantra to herself as she was moved. They would often bring her back to a room she had been in before. She had counted five in total. Sometimes, they would change a few things, try to trick her, but she still knew her way around this labyrinth. She wouldn't let them trick her.
She gasped as she stepped inside the room. Her eye found itself glued to a huge purple crystal next to the adjacent wall. Inside was a mare sporting wings and a horn. Her long mane was disheveled, and her eyes closed. The prisoner eyed the familiar form of the pony trapped within the object from horn to tail. She stopped as she reached the large star on the pony's flank. It was surrounded by five smaller stars — a symbol that once might have meant something to the prisoner. She shook her head. It looks exactly like her, but it can't be. She's dead! The alicorn's face was frozen in a grimace. "This is impossible. She's dead! She's dead!"
"Name and rank?" a voice asked, barely registering to the prisoner's ears.
Could this be the shield they had meant? Had she seen this before?
"Name and rank?" the voice asked again in the now familiar flat tone.
"I don't know!" the prisoner screamed. "I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!" Something in the back of her mind told her that it was a lie. There was something about this crystal. She had heard about it before. No! That isn't you! That's the other pony. The other pony is dead.
"Name and rank?"
"Prisoner," she weakly answered as she gazed downward.
"What is your purpose?"
"To speak the truth," she quietly spoke again, tears welling up in her remaining eye.
"How did Twilight Sparkle become an alicorn?"
"She completed Starswirl's spell."
"Where did she find the elements of harmony?"
"In the Castle of the Two Sisters."
"Where is she now?"
"This can't be true," she whispered. "This can't be true."
"Where is she now?" the voice asked again.
"She's dead," the prisoner replied, looking away. She finally saw her interrogator, a male griffon with dark auburn fur and a balding head.
"She is not dead," the interrogator replied, breaking the usual routine. His voice almost sounded compassionate. "She's right here with us. Don't you recognize your friend Twilight Sparkle?"
"Not my friend. The other pony's friend."
"That's right," the interrogator replied, his tone remaining calm and gentle. He moved forward and placed his claw on her back. "She isn't your friend, therefore you owe her nothing. How do we get through her shield?"
"I don't know."
Yes you do. A voice inside her head resonated.
"I don't know!" She screamed.
"I believe you do," the interrogator calmly continued. He took a few steps away from her, keeping his gaze locked on her. "Don't you worry. Perhaps there is another way to help you remember." a hint of a grin formed around his beak.
The prisoner said nothing as she quietly sobbed. They can't trick me, I'm awesome.
"Guard," the interrogator called. The door opened and a claw grabbed hold of the prisoner, pulling her outside.
She kept looking down as she obediently followed. They can't hurt me, I'm awesome.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Dash," the liar's voice said. The prisoner realized which guard was escorting her.
"I don't believe you." Her own voice was barely a whisper.
"If I had known things would have gotten this bad... I would have killed you on the battlefield instead of saving you." The liar's voice sounded sincere. It had to be a trick. Was she expected to beg for death?
The prisoner remained silent as she was brought to a part of the prison she had never seen. She had to climb some stairs, a task made difficult by her crushed hind leg. She was tempted to fly, but knew better. Prisoners didn't fly. It would only result in her getting beaten again. Eventually, they reached the largest room she had yet seen.
A glass orb larger than a pony was placed on a pedestal in the middle of the room, a strange golden cloud trapped inside. One table was filled with a wide array of instruments. She recognized a pair of pliers similar to the ones they used to pull out her teeth. The dead body of a pony lay on another table. Its torso had been sliced open, and some of the organs had been taken out. Flies buzzed around the rotting carcass. The prisoner averted her eye and tried to ignore the stench.
An imposing form came from the back of the room. It had the lower body of a pony, but the upper body of a Minotaur. "Tirek," she weakly uttered, her eye opened wide in shock.
The creature chuckled. "I'm afraid not, although I would like to believe the legacy of his work still lives through me." Its feature and voice marked it as female.
"Did she recognize the alicorn?" the centaur asked as she turned toward the liar.
"You don't have to do this," the liar replied. "She's completely broken. She might not even know who she is."
"I did not ask for an opinion, Decurion, merely for information."
"She did," the liar weakly replied.
"Good," the creature said, displaying a set of yellow fangs. "Either she or her magic will help us. Place her inside the machine."
"As you command," the liar said with a sigh.
The prisoner didn't resist as she was brought to a small cage in a corner. She stepped inside, knowing full well how pointless resisting would be. The liar closed and locked the cage behind her.
"Excellent," the centaur said, her voice cold and emotionless. She turned her attention to the prisoner. "You know, we tried everything to get through the crystal shield your friend conjured up. I have to say, I'm always impressed by the capabilities of alicorn magic. Based on Twilight Sparkle's abilities, I would imagine that the key to getting her out resides within you. Well, you or another one of her associates."
The prisoner violently shook her head. Not me! That was the other pony!
"This machine will extract your magic. A process I haven't mastered quite as well as Lord Tirek, I'm afraid. Should you have the ability to break Twilight Sparkle's shield, I do suggest you use it now."
"I don't know," the prisoner said, sobbing softly. "I don't know."
"A shame," the centaur said. "Although I'm eager to find out the results."
A blinding red glow emitted from her horns and toward the cage. The prisoner screamed as she felt her body being torn apart, a part of her she didn't even know existed being stripped out. "Help me!" she begged the liar through sobs.
The pain still lingered, even as the glow dissipated. She looked down at her body. Her coat was grayer than usual, and the lightning bolt on her flank, the one part of her that had still looked alive, was gone. She curled up in a ball and cried.