“What in the name of Discord’s goat leg is going on here?”
Gravel Presser clutched the axe in his hooves a little tighter. Perhaps addressing the group of ponies before him was not the best of ideas, considering that from the short glimpse he had gotten, the lot of them would outnumber the ponies in Evergreen by a factor of seven. He did not step out, opting to stay behind the thick trunk of the tree for protection.
The sound of the moving herd suddenly shifted, ultimately dying out within seconds. The woods were completely still once again, save for the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves overhead and the metallic ring of swords being drawn.
Not good.
“Who goes there?” a stallion shouted, his voice gruff with age.
“I should be saying the same thing!” Gravel Presser retorted, pushing himself up against the tree trunk tighter, gripping his axe to his chest.
“State your business!”
“Trying to figure out what the hay you all are doing here!”
A number of incomprehensible murmurs came from the crowd, along with the sound of numerous unicorns lighting their horns.
Not good at all.
“Show yourself!” shouted the stallion, the frustration in his tone growing.
“I’ll come out if you’ll make your guard stand down!” Gravel Presser shouted.
“Come out first!”
“Call them off first!”
“Come out first or we will come get you, and I don’t think either of us would like the outcome of that scenario!”
Gravel Presser sighed and bumped his head against the tree. How bad could this group of ponies really be?
“Alright, I’ll come out!” A murmur of unrest came from the group as Gravel Presser steeled his resolve. With one final deep breath he stepped out from behind the tree to face the crowd of ponies.
He had never seen ponies that shined in the sunlight before. And three were sprinting towards him, crashing through the undergrowth with alarming speed and even more alarming swords drawn.
“Drop your weapon! Drop it!” Shouted one of the guard ponies, pointing his sword at Gravel Presser’s head as he approached. Faced with either surrender or certain death, Gravel tossed his axe to the side. The guards spread out, encircling him with weapons menacingly pointed.
Thwack!
Stars filled Gravel’s vision as he was bludgeoned in the back of his head. He fell forward, his snout digging into the soft earth.
“Bind his hooves.” One of the guards produced a bundle of cord and passed it to his comrade, who began tying Gravel’s front hooves to his hind ones. Still dazed from the hefty blow to his head, Gravel didn’t put up much resistance as he was bound.
“What is it?” the same stallion that he had conversed with seconds before asked, his heavy hoofsteps approaching from the left.
“It appears to be a pony, sir. Earth stallion, late twenties, heavily muscled,” answered one of the guards.
“Have you checked to see if he’s a bug?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Get a unicorn up here to do a species analysis.”
“Yes, sir!”
The pony behind the voice appeared overhead. It was a green Earth pony, looking to be in his later middle ages. He looked down upon his prisoner with a predatory glint in his eyes, like a wolf about to feast on his prey.
“Got anything to say to me, son?” His tone was so casual that it was icy.
“Who- who are you?” Gravel Presser asked quietly, his now powerful headache dampening his voice.
“I am Commander Falcon Nest of the Crystal Empire detachment of the Equestrian Royal Army. And you would be?”
“Gravel Presser. Lumberjack. Pleasure to meet you,” Gravel choked out, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
Nest chuckled, “We’ll see about that.”
“What are you talking about?” Gravel tugged at his restraints. The crowd of ponies nearby was beginning to become restless. Nest chuckled again, stepping back with an almost foreboding casualness to his movements.
Definitely not good at all.
“Hey! Where are you going? Come back here and answer me!” Gravel shouted. His pulse began to skyrocket, which only made his head throb with more intense vigor. “Hey!”
“Shut up, bug!’ commanded one of the guard ponies, kicking Gravel in the back. He gasped for breath, coughing in earnest as he tried to force air into his already-burning lungs.
“Private, knock it off. You’ll get to have at it once we make sure that it’s a bug.”
“W-what?!” Gravel choked out, pulling at his bindings with everything he had.
“Quit squirming!” Another kick connected with Gravel’s rump. He kept yanking at the cord around his hooves that had him hogtied in spite of the guard’s order and the kick. He could feel the rope starting to slacken, perhaps he could get free in a few more seconds—
A blade appeared in front of his nose, halting his writhing immediately.
“Move one more time and I will not hesitate to gut you like a fish. Got it, you damn Changeling piece of filth?” The blade was so close that he could smell the metal, and the faint hint of blood intermingled with it.
Gravel nodded slowly, forcing himself to remain silent and not ask the burning question on his mind. The “species analysis” would vindicate him of whatever they suspected him of in due time.
“That’s him, right there.” As if on cue, a unicorn mare in similar crystal armor appeared overhead. She knelt down next to him, staring into his eyes with a icy, probing gaze. She did not say a word, instead letting her actions speak for her. She had a bag with her, and from it, she levitated…
Oh no.
The mare had procured a saw from her bag. Whatever that meant, it couldn’t have been good.
“Okay, I need something to place the sample in once we’ve removed it. And get something to shove in its mouth so it doesn’t blow our eardrums out when I start working.” The mare spoke to another guard, her words as cold as her stare.
“Wait, what are you going to do with that saw?”
“Nothing you need to worry about if you’re a bug. It’ll grow back if you survive.”
“What?! No! No! I’m not a Changeling, what can I do to prove that to you?” Gravel Presser tugged once more at his restraints.
“Just hold still and this will all be over before you know it.” The mare tapped the saw blade, knocking off a few bits of debris. Before Gravel could protest more, his head was jerked back and a dirty rag that tasted strongly of mud was stuffed into his mouth. The mare levitated the saw closer to his hind legs, and the restrained stallion finally broke . He screamed against the gag, trying to sound out his distress as best he could. It seemed hopeless, for the rag was going nowhere fast and the mare was just about ready to begin slicing at whatever part of him she was going after.
“Hey! What’s going on over here?”
A new voice brought silence as all of the commotion came to a sudden halt.
“Show yourself!” Nest called out, in a fashion strikingly similar to how he had addressed Gravel.
“I can see that you have a friend of ours taken prisoner. Why are you ponies attacking your own ponies?” That was Rivulet, her slightly-off grasp of the Equestrian language standing her out from the rest.
What is she doing out here?
“We have reason to believe that this creature is a Changeling, working to scout our location and let his army know where to find us. He is a prisoner of the Equestrian Army,” barked Nest. Gravel’s stomach dropped a little further at that statement.
“Well I think you’re mistaken! We work for a logging company, and we heard the ruckus and came to see what’s goin’ on here!” A third voice, this one belonging to a stallion named Pinecone, answered. Nest was silent for a few moments. He had seemed so sure of himself just seconds before.
“Can you prove this?”
A new voice from the strange crowd of ponies. This one was much deeper, more well-spoken and, in a way, more intimidating.
“If you will let Gravel Presser go free, we will show you town.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, sweetheart, Gravel thought as he watched Nest’s hooves come stalking over closer.
“Get a Pegasus in the air.” Nest pointed at one of the ponies gathered around Gravel. “Fly up above the trees and see if you can see a settlement nearby.” The soldier nodded and took to the air, skirting in between the branches of the forest canopy with such precision that he barely disturbed a single branch. He disappeared for a short moment before dropping back through the trees with much less care, snapping several smaller limbs in his descent.
“They’re telling the truth. There’s a little settlement about three quarters of a mile east of here. Lots of timber cleared out too, so I assume it’s a logging operation.”
Nest didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a few steps away from the group.
“Cut him loose.”
“This looks like as good a place as any,” Cochylis muttered to himself, letting the door swing closed of its own accord. With the door shut, the room was pitch black. He lit his horn and produced a simple light spell, bathing the tiny room in soft green light.
“I’m going to take the gag out of your mouth now. If you so much as raise your voice at me, I will kill you and don’t think for a second that I won’t. Understand?”
“Mmmhmm,” the stallion on the bed grunted against the cotton stuck in his mouth.
Cochylis lit his horn and pulled the cotton out of the stallion’s mouth. The stallion took a deep breath now that his mouth was unplugged, and he spat a few times before he relaxed, though his gritted teeth didn’t make him appear calm.
“Water,” he whispered. “Water, please.”
Cochylis stepped back from the bed, scanning around the little closet in search of some form of water. A few bottles on a shelf behind the bed were filled with some sort of liquid, but it didn’t appear to be anything intended for consumption. Maybe he could find some water in a nearby room.
Cochylis scooted around the bed in the cramped space. He pressed an ear to the door, waiting patiently for any kind of sound. He could hear a changeling walking past in the hallway, and he held his breath. The steps were close to the closet, slowly working their way nearer. The changeling in the hall didn’t seem to take interest in the unmarked door, and the steps passed on down the hallway. Once the sound faded away, he ventured to crack the door open.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Cochylis opened the door just wide enough to squeeze himself through the crack, and he shut it behind himself as quickly as he could.
There is no way I can keep this hidden for long.
Braided Twist smiled weakly, anticipating what was coming with bated breath. She eased herself down and winced at the pain, but sighed in relief as her rump met the ground. For the first time in nearly a day, she was finally able to sit down.
Slowly, she lost the strength to stay upright. She flopped over on the ground, grunting as she came to rest a bit harder than she intended to. Relief flooded through her, even though her legs hurt more now that she had let them rest.
Despite the pain of the night on the move and the bright sunlight of the early afternoon, sleep began to overtake her mere moments after the collapsed. She wasn’t alone, as plenty of other ponies around her were laying down to rest. She looked around one more time before she closed her eyes, ready to let herself fall into sleep’s gentle embrace.
“Hey.”
Her eyes shot open, and her heart pounded against her ribs. She jumped up in a frenzy, lashing her hooves out randomly in a desperate attempt to fend off her assailant. She screamed, hoping that it was enough to let other ponies know of the danger she was in. A stout foreleg was suddenly wrapped around her barrel, picking her up and bringing her to the ground. Her hooves were pinned against the attacker’s leg. She was caught, and she prepared to scream again.
“Braid! Braid, get ahold of yourself!”
She cracked her eyes open, revealing the shimmering colors of the stallion’s coat. She looked up to see that Coal Dust had her restrained from behind, wrapping her in a bearhug. Several ponies around her were staring. A fierce blush colored her cheeks.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shuddering slightly as she exhaled. “Okay. I’m calm. Can you let me up, please?”
“Alright,” Coal Dust said. He released his grip, and Braid quickly scrambled up to her hooves. He wasn’t quite as quick to rise, but by the time he stood up, she was already galloping away from him.
Braid lowered her head and ran as fast as her hooves could carry her. She didn’t care about the tears that were streaming down her cheeks or her heavily fatigued mind. All she cared about was getting away from those ponies who saw her outburst.
She weaved in and out of the stumps and ponies lying amongst them, pushing towards the distant treeline in a desperate effort to get away from everypony else. As she drew nearer to the forest, she began to notice that there were fewer and fewer ponies around. Before long, she was clear of the field of refugees, and after running just a bit further, she was finally clear of all of the probing gazes.
She slowed herself to a stop, dropping behind the closest tree stump. Her lungs burned, and she sucked air down in an effort to quell the pain in her chest. Save for the gentle breeze, it was quiet and serene. A few birds sang in the distant trees, and she closed her eyes.
It wasn’t more than a few seconds before the peace was broken by hoofsteps coming up behind her. She cracked her eyes open, turning her head to see who was coming.
Coal Dust had followed her, his armor and coat shimmering in the sun as he approached. She turned her head back towards the tree line, opting not to watch him come up. Why can’t he just leave me alone right now?
“Braid?” he asked, and she crouched down into the soft earth below her rump. There’s going to be a lot of dirt in my tail now. Great.
“Coal, please just leave me alone.” Her tone alone was plenty to stop him in his tracks.
“But—”
“I said leave me alone!” She didn’t look at him, but he seemed to get the message. She heard him turn around start back the other direction, and she listened to his hoofbeats fade into the background noise from the camp.
Cochylis touched down in the road with a heavy thunk, having slightly miscalculated his approach. Dull pain ran up his forelegs as he skidded to a halt in front of the hospital doors. A couple of seconds after him, another set of hooves touched down.
“That was sloppy,” said Ips. Cochylis shook his forelegs to dissipate some of the pain.
“It happens,” he dismissed.
“Be more careful next time. You could chip your carapace.” Ips stepped forward, around the body of a stallion lying face down in the street. “Tell me again. Why did you choose to take quarters in a hospital, of all places?”
“Believe it or not, pony hospitals are much nicer than ours.” He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. And there’s still a pony in this hospital.
“Really? How so?” asked Ips.
“It’s got lots of space, it’s clean, and it has a lot of spare pony beds that we can make use of.”
Ips perked up at the third point. “Pony beds?”
“Yes. I got in one earlier, and it’s probably the softest thing I’ve ever laid on.”
“Excellent.” Ips pushed the front door open, and the pair stepped into the hospital lobby.
“I’ll lead the way,” Cochylis said. He stepped forward, despite the fact that his knees seemed ready to give out.
I could just find a new place. Let that pony rot in the closet until someone else finds him and takes care of him. He spared a glance back at Ips, the other drone’s expressionless blue eyes greeting him. He didn’t let his gaze linger, and snapped his head back forwards.
He’s going to do something. That’s a guarantee. The question was what? Would he just kill the pony and shrug it off? Would he try to kill Cochylis on the grounds of treason? Would he simply run to report the straggler?
Can I take him?
If Cochylis had learned one thing about his partner in the week that he’d been assigned to him, he’d learned that the other drone was a violent type. The cruel efficiency he’d used to take out guard ponies was one thing, but when he’d executed the shield unicorns?
He could kill me faster than I could blink. A pit began to form deep in Cochylis’ abdomen. He was in for it. He was in deep.
Me and my soft exoskeleton. Now I’m gonna get it for sure. He rounded a corner. Only two more turns remained before they arrived at the storage closet.
Surely there’s still open beds somewhere around here. I’ll lead him somewhere else. I’ll just keep this as my little secret. They rounded yet another bend in the hallway. The doors to the recovery ward he’d found the pony in loomed ahead. Four changelings rounded the corner up ahead, coming from the direction of the storage closet.
Who am I kidding? This place is already swarming with drones! They probably already found the pony and took him away, anyhow. This was a terrib—
“How much further?” Ips’ voice cut his thought short, and he nearly jumped in surprise.
“It’s just a little bit further. Don’t worry. I found us a place.”
“Okay?” Ips furrowed his brow.
I’m letting it show, aren’t I?
Cochylis steeled his nerves as they approached the final turn. He remembered a water fixture on the wall next to the closet door, and there it was, about fifty feet away.
I can do this. Just work some magic with words and I can make him see my side!
The fountain drew ever nearer, and Cochylis was sure his legs were going to give out before he even closed the gap. He was so focused that he barely noticed two more drones pass by in the opposite direction.
I can do it. And if he can’t be persuaded, then I still have my knife. The fixture was mere steps away. The time of reckoning had come.
And he kept walking right past it.
I can’t do it! Cochylis broke out into a quick trot, racing down the long hallway.
“What are you doing?” Ips yelled.
“We have to hurry! It might not still be there if we keep walking!”
The hallway quickly ran out, its end marked by a big set of double doors nearly identical to the those of the recovery ward.
“In there?” Ips asked as he caught back up.
“Yes, that’s right!” Cochylis confirmed, though he wasn’t quite sure that the smile he gave Ips with the statement was appropriate. He reached up and pushed on the door with a forehoof.
It didn’t budge.
“We’re locked out?” Ips was noticeably peeved.
“I could swear these doors were open just a few minutes ago!” Cochylis pushed again, harder. The doors merely rattled a bit. He took a step back, looking at the doors in a wider frame. As he did, he noticed a big silver button on the wall.
Operation Ward door control. Push to open.
“That’s because it was already opened for me by someone else. No problem though!” He pushed the button, and a quiet motor whirred to life on the opposite side. The door swung open slowly, clacking against the wall as it reached the end of its operation. “In we go!” Cochylis announced. A wave of relief washed over him as he stepped into the next hall. These rooms were likely untouched by the other drones. He was out of danger for the time being.
I just left a pony to die alone in the dark.
Shadows grew ever longer as the sun continued along its slow trek towards the horizon. On a normal day, the town of Evergreen would be quiet. The loggers would be out in the field working, and the few ponies whose jobs were based in the town itself would usually be busying themselves in preparation for the workers to return for the night. Aside from a dog or a pony milling about, the town should have been still.
Except, today was no normal day.
The usually empty street was filled to the brim with ponies, barely any of them actually from the town. The refugees from the Crystal Empire had flooded into the logging camp, and it was doing a poor job of supporting the sudden influx of new arrivals. Nopony had anywhere to go besides claiming a place on the bare ground. Every building was jammed full of dirty, tired ponies. unrest was already brewing.
Headstrong galloped down the muddy thoroughfare that served as the camp’s main street alongside two other soldiers. Their swords were drawn, and nopony dared stand in their way as they sped through the crowded street.
“Where are we headed again, Sergeant?” asked Headstrong.
“Looters are at the town store, apparently,” answered Corundum, the sergeant mare who had sought him out to help just a few minutes before.
“Great.” Headstrong shook his head to better seat his helmet down on his head. The general store was just ahead, and it was already apparent that there was an incident going on. A large crowd of ponies was gathered around the front entrance, and they were riled up.
A few ponies noticed the guards approaching and bolted as Headstrong took the lead into the crowd, using his size to knock his way through the wall of equines. A mare and a smaller stallion were knocked over as he plowed into the group, as he cleared a path for the other two soldiers to follow, forcing their way up onto the porch.
The door was closed, and he could see a stallion with a knife through the window. He stopped, turned around, and delivered a thunderous buck to the door, which cracked and squeaked under the stress. He reared back once more and let his rear hooves fly. The door’s hinges gave way with an earsplitting crack, and it fell backwards with another sharp smash and the sound of breaking glass. Corundum and the other guard moved in first, followed by Headstrong a second later. When he stepped into the room, he saw the tail end of a rapid succession of events.
The shopkeeper was already ducking down behind the counter as Corundum tackled a mare brandishing a knife. A stallion and a mare came bolting out from the rows of shelves, each carrying a load of items on their backs. The stallion didn’t have time to react before he was bodychecked, his bundle of loot crashing to the floor and spilling its contents. The mare started towards the doorway but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the hulking stallion blocking her path. They locked eyes for a brief moment, each frozen in place as they stared each other down.
Headstrong moved first. He charged forward, shouting at her to surrender. She sidestepped his charge and shot back into the shelves, making her way to the back of the store. Headstrong adjusted his course and charged down the next row, aiming to catch her at the back corner.
“Backup! I need help!”
Corundum’s voice rang out behind him, and he whipped around to see that the other mare was taking the upper hand in the struggle. He skid to a halt, knocking boxes of dried apples from the shelves as he flailed to stop himself. In a second, he was back on his hooves and thundering back towards his comrade.
The mare looked up just in time to see a large white shoulder rushing towards her face. Her head snapped back under the force of the collision, and she fell like a stone. Corundum grabbed a rope from her saddlebag and set about hogtying the now unconscious mare after she confiscated the knife. With the lead pony taken care of, Headstrong turned his attention back to the mare he had been chasing, only she was long gone The crowd out front had quickly dispersed with the arrival of the guard, and the third looter had managed to slip out with the rest of the ponies.
“We lost a crook,” Headstrong announced.
“We got two of them though, that’s what matters,” said Corundum as she pulled the rope tight around the mare’s hooves.
“I got a look at her. I could go out there and find her.”
“No, Corporal, you’re not.” Corundum’s stern voice stopped him dead in his tracks. “Now help us get these two dealt with.”
Headstrong laid his ears back flat on his head. Is she really pulling rank on me right now?
“Yes, ma’am.” He returned to her side and picked up the unconscious mare on his back. The other soldier was already walking the stallion out of the store at swordpoint.
“What exactly are we going to do with these two, Sergeant?”
Corundum scoffed. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea.”
“Great.”
A large crowd had formed around the logging company’s food line, as with nearly every other amenity in the town. Though things seemed to be progressing peacefully, it was a conglomeration of chaos around the small cooking station.
Braid watched the unfolding situation from afar, perched atop stump, the smell of sawdust from the freshly cut wood mixing with the cool air around her. From what she could tell from her vantage point, the kitchenwas painfully understaffed. A single mare was shouting at the crowd, veins visible on her forehead, though her efforts seemed useless amidst the whirlwind of ponies descending upon her. She couldn’t see anypony else in the kitchen.
I really should get in there and do something.
Braid had dealt with plenty of hectic days on the job, but this easily trumped anything she’d ever had to deal with back—
She needs help, so who am I to sit here and watch?
She felt the pang in her chest starting to burn, and she scooted herself off of the stump with haste. She worked her way around the edge of the crowd, taking care not to get caught up in the mob. The shouts of unrest were getting more insistent by the moment.
Not a moment too soon. Braid skirted around the outer edge of the group until she was at the back of the shack, which was clear of any of the ponies looking for food.
The back door of the metal outbuilding was shut tight—probably locked—but still worth a try. She reached up and pressed the lever. To her surprise, it turned.
“Hello?” she called as she cracked the door open.
“Ah!” shouted the mare inside. She was a unicorn, and her horn flew into action on reflex, floating a knife into the air near the door. Braid jumped back a little, putting the door between herself and the knife.
“No, don’t worry! I saw that you were a little overwhelmed and wanted to help.”
“Help, you say?” asked the mare.
That’s quite the accent she has. “I can help you with cooking or cleaning, anything that needs to be done.”
It took the mare on the other side a few seconds to reply. “Alright, you may come in.”
“Great!” Braid opened the door and stepped up into the kitchen. The mare inside, a violet unicorn with her golden mane tied up in a bun, eyed her carefully as she entered.
“Вернитесь!” Rivulet shouted, swatting at a stallion reaching in the window with her wooden spoon. She turned back towards the window and her work. “What is it that you know about cooking?” she asked, not affording Braid eye contact.
“I used to run a bakery—” she paused as a hitch caught in her throat. “—excuse me, so I know my way around a kitchen, if that’s what you’re asking. What needs done?”
“The soup needs tending,” the violet mare said, pointing towards two large steaming pots on the stove on the back wall.
“Alright, that works!” Braid grabbed a spare apron hanging next to the door and hastily tied it on before walking over to the two vats. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”
“I am Rivulet. You are?”
“Braided Twist, but that can be a little bit of a mouthful, so just call me Braid.”
“Miss Braid, I thank you for your help. Now, there is much to be done.” Rivulet nodded and returned to the unruly crowd before her.
“Happy to do it,” acknowledged Braid. She reared back onto her hind legs so she could get a look down into the pot, and she was greeted by a lightly simmering pot filled with red broth and little else. The smell wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t impressive, even to her own empty stomach. She stirred it a bit, bringing a few bits of corn, carrots, and potatoes to the surface, but those did little to spice things up.
“What do you have in the way of spices?” Braid asked.
“Whatever is in the drawer to your left,” Rivulet answered, dropping some cornbread onto a platter with a dull think.
“Gotcha.” Braid pulled the drawer open, and to her dismay, she was greeted by only a few little jars of spice. Onion powder, cumin, cinnamon, and oregano were the entirety of Rivulet’s available assortment of seasonings aside from salt and pepper.
Oregano would work to give the stew a little more flavor. That and a dash of salt would work. Braid retrieved the seasonings from the drawer, popped the caps off of them, and added just a light touch of them to both pots.
“Miss Braid, please check the bread in the oven!”
“On it!” She flipped on the oven light, and she could clearly see the four loaves of bread stuffed in there were done, perhaps a little too much so. “Where do you keep the hot pads?”
“Switch me places!” Rivulet shouted, ducking back to the rear of the kitchen as Braid was pushed up to the front serving line by a little burst of magic against her rump.
“Hello!” Braid greeted the stallion standing at the front of the line in her usual way. “How are you today?”
He didn’t respond, merely shaking his head at the food she had yet to dish up. She took the hint, pouring the soup out and dropping a square of cornbread next to it. She passed it off to him, and he disappeared instantly, replaced by a crystal pony mare who looked even less willing to make small talk.
As she served yet another tray, she looked back at Rivulet, who was bustling over the bread and still trying to mind the cooking soup. Her neat bun was quickly fraying, nearly to the point of unraveling, and her eyes were gaunt, like she hadn’t rested in a long time.
The crowd grew louder by the second, and none of them were interested in anything besides the food. They were cold, tired, and hungry, just like her. Braid looked down at the bland, hastily-made soup she was serving; soup that there was simply no time to properly care for.
I really miss my shop.
“Well that’s a tiny knife.”
Cochylis looked up to see Ips fumbling around in a cabinet on the far side of the room. A few tools rattled before one loud clank pierced the air.
“մինետ!” Ips shouted, reverting back to his native language.
“What’d you do to yourself?”
“That little knife is really sharp.” Ips buzzed across the room, a few drips of teal blood running down his foreleg. “Do you know where they keep the bandages around here?”
“Try the drawers over there,” Cochylis said, only half paying attention. He dropped his head back on the bed, staring up at the extremely bright lights in the ceiling directly over him.
Compared to the “Recovery Ward”, this room was much less comfortable. A single, narrower bed sat directly in the center of the room, which was ringed with numerous cabinets and other storage units around the walls. The room reeked of disinfectants, and based on the various other assorted tools, this must have been where surgeries were performed back when the hospital was in operation.
The pony in the closet was probably lying here. Cochylis stared up into the light fixture overhead, not even noticing that it was burning his eyes. He didn’t really care, all things considered.
I’m going down when someone else finds that pony. They’ll find out I hid him and then I’m finished.
Cochylis looked over at Ips, who was struggling with a roll of bandages. He’d probably be the first in line to kill me. Cochylis jumped up from the bed, shaking himself down as he hit the floor.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go look around some more.”
Ips didn't even look up. “Don’t get lost.”
“Sure.” Cochylis pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. They had been the first to enter the operating wing, but they were only the first of many. The hallway was already filling with other changelings looking for a place to bed down, though most of the other rooms in the hall had been taken. He turned left, walking out of the ward doors and back into the long hallway.
To his surprise, this hall was empty. He walked through it in a hurry, only pausing to look down an adjoining passage that boasted a large hole in the ceiling further down. His heart rate rose sharply as he approached the water fixture, and he checked behind himself to make sure that no other changelings had come up behind him.
He was still alone. He pushed the door open as far as it could go, which wasn’t very much considering the stretcher on the other side. He slipped through the opening, closing the door carefully behind himself.
The pony in the bed shifted a bit as he entered. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” Cochylis took a seat at the bedside on a small stool.
“Can you give me more water, please?”
“Sure,” agreed Cochylis, floating a can of water down from the shelf to the stallion’s mouth, who gulped it greedily.
“Thank you,” the stallion said, taking a deep breath once the can was lifted from his mouth.
“You’re welcome.” Silence tried to take over for a moment.
“What’s your name?”
Cochylis froze. Ponies were never supposed to be able to sympathize with Changelings. They were mortal enemies by default.
And yet this pony wanted to know his name?
“You there?”
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“Well, what’s your name? Or do Changelings not have names?”
He paused for another moment. “I am Drone number one-three-three-nine-three-seven.”
“Is that what you go by?”
“No. I shouldn’t tell you my name.”
“Alright then, my name is Gust Rainstorm, but you can just call me Gust.”
Again, the room went quiet. Cochylis sat there, looking at Gust. The stallion was unreadable due to the bandages, the only available indicator of his demeanor in his voice. And it sounded like he was being sincere.
“Cochylis.”
“What was that?” Gust asked.
“My name is Cochylis.”
“Well, Cochylis, it’s nice to meet you.”
The shutter over the serving window rattled as Rivulet pulled it closed. It was almost quitting time for Braid.
It had taken hours of constant work to get everypony through the line. Two others had come by to volunteer just as Braid did, but they both left long before the end of the day. Not that she blamed them, of course. Her hooves had been numb for the last couple of hours, worked to the bone by the constant stirring, scrubbing, lifting, and serving that she was doing. Her hind hooves and her back were crying for rest, and tempting as it was, she chose to ignore the pain and continue working.
Not that she was complaining, though. Working in the kitchen was exactly what she needed, though it was considerably more stressful than working in her old shop—
Back to work. She focused her attention on the greasy, burned pot that she was tasked to clean. It must have seen at least ten separate uses throughout the course of the afternoon, as the soups they were preparing seemed to disappear just in time to be immediately replaced. There was still a formidable stack of dirty dishes left to contend with, but she wasn’t going to think about that. If I focus on one thing, I won’t get overwhelmed.
“Miss Braid?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you not call it a day? You have not had a break since you started.”
Braid chuckled. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. I like to keep busy.” Rivulet’s hoof took hold of her shoulder, and she turned to face the other mare.
“Look at me.” Rivulet locked eyes with Braid. “Your eyes, they are bloodshot. Look at your hooves.”
Braid lifted a forehoof up, and only when she took a look at it did she finally feel the full extent of the pain. Her hoof was swollen, saturated with water, and rubbed raw to the point that it was about ready to bleed.
“You need a rest, Miss Braid. Even I have took a few breaks, but you have not,” said Rivulet, her voice stern and unflinching.
“I’m fine,” Braid said, looking away from the violet mare. Magic wrapped around her chin and pulled her head back to making eye contact.
Rivulet’s eyes met Braid’s, and she almost melted under the steely glare.
“I have been meaning to ask you. What made all of these ponies come here in the first place?”
The question cut at Braid like a hot knife. Tears welled up in her eyes almost instantly as a torrent of memories threatened to come loose. She wrestled herself away from Rivulet’s hold just in time for a stream of tears to run down her cheek.
“Okay, I’ll take a b-break.”
Rivulet must have sensed just how tender the subject matter was. She didn’t press the issue. “Good. Why not go and have a good sleep?”
“That sounds nice, actually.” Braid pulled her apron over her head and replaced it on the rack.
“Can I expect you back tomorrow?” Rivulet asked.
“I’ll be back, definitely. Maybe I’ll get a few of my friends to come and help us…” she sniffed, the tears returning to her eyes as it dawned on her. “If they’re still—if they’re still alive.”
Braid collapsed to her haunches. She closed her eyes tight, trying to shut out what she knew was coming, but it was hopeless. Memories began surfacing, memories of bright green fireballs streaking across the sky filling her mind. She remembered the burning, ozone smell that filled the air, the sound of the explosions from when the spellfire hit the ground. The thump she could feel in her forehead with every pressure wave from the blasts.
And the stallion who completely disappeared when he was hit by one of the fireballs.
She had been trying so hard to hold it back, to keep herself composed amidst the chaos, but she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She hitched once, then twice more, and finally the dam broke. She cried out, breaking into a fit of shoulder-shaking sobs that she had no control over. Rivulet appeared in front of her, and Braid grabbed the other mare on pure reflex, burying her muzzle into her shoulder and crying with abandon.
“Miss Braid?” Rivulet asked. She got no response beyond the frantic weeping. She didn’t ask again, allowing Braid to vent her anguish into her shoulder. They sat there for a long while, the only sounds in the kitchen being that of the still-running sink and Braid’s whimpers.
“Miss Braid, are you alright?” Rivulet finally asked once more. Braid caught herself, lifting her head from Rivulet’s shoulder. She didn’t know how long she’d been sobbing, but it must have been for a while. She looked around with bleary eyes, noticing that the light outside had faded substantially while she was crying.
“I think I’ll be okay,” said Braid. She sniffed and wiped at her nose.
“Please, go rest.” Rivulet stood up, offering a hoof to Braid. “You are in need of it.”
“I will.”
“I thank you for all of your help today. Will I see you tomorrow?”
“You can count on it.” Braid walked over to the door, wiping at her eyes one more time. She paused before she pushed it open. “Oh, and Rivulet?”
“Yes, Miss Braid?”
Braid crossed the distance between them and wrapped Rivulet in a tight hug. “Thank you.”
“Always.” Braid released the embrace, and she waved goodbye once more before she left the kitchen.
Braid walked through the vast field of tree stumps and ponies that now lined the little logging camp. She knew who she was looking for, but it was proving difficult to find him in the massive group.
Come on, Braid. Think. Where would I be if I was him?
She looked at the ponies lying all around her, and she didn’t see any of the soldiers nearby. She was near the middle of the field—
Of course! He’ll be on the outside edge somewhere! It made perfect sense. The soldiers had been ordered to stay on the outside edge of the group while they fled the Empire, and they were still doing the same thing. She adjusted her course for the outside edge of the town, and after several minutes of working her way around countless ponies and stumps in the low light, she made it to the very edge of the field, near the tree line.
It took a bit of searching once she made it there, but it was fairly easy to pick him out from the crowd; after all, he was one of the few crystal ponies to sport a pair of wings. He was sitting up ramrod straight, his back facing her as he seemed to be watching the trees with what little bit of light was left in the day.
“Dusty?”
He turned to face her, and his eyes seemed to light up just a bit. “Braid?”
She didn’t reply with words, instead wrapping him in a tight hug. After a few moments, she noticed that he hadn’t returned the embrace.
Maybe I should try this another way. She released him, and as she expected, he was looking at her with a stupefied expression.
“Look, Dusty, I’m sorry about earlier.”
“No, I’m sorry about what happened! I shouldn’t have—”
Braid frowned. “Let me talk,” she interrupted, and to her surprise, he didn’t need a second reminder to shut up. She sidled over and took a seat next to him, looking into the forest beyond.
“I really don’t know what came over me back there. Maybe I was still on-edge about the attack last night, or maybe I was just tired and you startled me.”
“Probably both?” Coal offered.
“Yeah, that’s probably it. But anyway, I just wanted to apologize for it. You didn’t do anything wrong besides walking up to me at a bad moment.”
Braid paused. “You know, I still haven’t seen any of my friends since the attack.” The crying had taken some of the pressure away, but it still hurt to bring up the subject.
“Tell me about it,” said Coal.
Braid couldn’t help the tear that escaped. “I don’t know if they made it or not. I hope they did, but there’s always that chance.” She stopped to wipe her eyes. “You know, Dusty, right now I think you’re the only friend I have left.
“Braid—”
“I’ve always been afraid of the dark. After those timberwolves attacked last night, I don’t think I could manage to spend the night on my own. Dusty, is it okay if I spend the night here with you?”
Coal Dust wrapped a hoof around her shoulder and pulled her up against himself. “Of course you can.”
“Oh, thank you, Dusty!” Braid squeezed him around the chest with her own quick hug. She released him and lowered herself to the ground. “Are you going to sleep soon?”
“Not for another hour. I’m supposed to be on watch. Somepony else will take over my spot when time’s up though.” He looked down at Braid, and couldn’t help smiling. She was already dozed off.
“Sleep well, Braid.”