Bad Mondays

by Handyman

Chapter 48 - Sleight of Hand

Chrysalis fell out of the air and let out a startled yelp just before she splashed down on the inch or so of standing water. She flailed and spluttered before coming to her senses, suddenly soaking wet, cold, and no longer bound by chains.

"Who— What!? Handy? Where am I? What's going on!?" she demanded, twisting and turning about, alarmed at her sudden transportation. She appeared to be in the ruined bazaar, a long way away from the palace. Handy, however, was nowhere to be found. A few brief hoofsteps splashing through the water caught her attention, and she turned to see a blood-red pony in a dark cowl walk out of one of the empty storefronts. A book levitated before her, along with the broken remains of what looked like the amulet Handy had owned. That crumbled to dust in her magical grip as she appeared to read over her book, mouthing words to herself. She looked up and spied Chrysalis with the most contemptuous glare she had ever seen from a pony, coupled with the iciest heart she had ever sensed. The unicorn's eyes wandered up and down the empty bazaar before settling accusingly on Chrysalis.

"Where. Is. He?" she snarled through clenched teeth.

"Wha—?" Chrysalis was slammed against a wall as the unicorn's powerful magic turned from red to sickly green, and her eyes glowed a threatening white.

"Where is he!?"

--=--

Perhaps some explanation was in order.

Handy could certainly use one for his current predicament. Then again, the only person nearby with both the ability and the inclination to answer him was currently halfway across the city from where he now found himself. As you might imagine, he was most displeased with this state of affairs.

You see, Handy's plan, such as it was, took action precisely two hours after he had gathered his would-be jail-breakers together. Long enough for the near countless soldiers to do a sweep or two of the city while they hid, yet not long enough for even the most impatient of city dwellers hiding with their families to stick their heads out and look around. Long enough that it was reasonable to assume Chrysalis was out of her cell and right where the leaders of the changelings could see her… and each other.

This was crucial for several reasons, but primarily it was so that Handy did not have to worry about whatever magical wards, enchantments—or infusions, as Thorax and the changelings insisted on calling them—preventing him from doing his little snatch and grab. Of course, they could have those same wards on the entirety of the palace, but that was something Handy would have to risk. Wouldn't be the first thing old magic managed to bulldoze through. Speaking of which...

After drilling Jacques and Thorax for all the information he could get out of them, he gave each of them their missions. Thorax's one made sense, Jacques was sceptical of his, and the remaining changelings got split between the two to be as helpful as they could be. Only then did he turn to Crimson for her part and informed her of what had to be done.

It was a gamble, but once upon a time Crimson had revealed to him that the Mistress had used her to study and research old magic for her (under her supervision of course) and that she was the foremost scryer out of all the Mistress' underlings using the vile art. Hell, she even managed to snatch him, someone without any connection to this world whatsoever, using her own gumption and an assload of magical force to punch through the void and yank him here. It wasn't quite teleportation, but it was close enough for Handy's intentions.

He offered her his amulet; the connection he had to Chrysalis' mind, however tentative, as a means of connecting to her. Crimson was extremely doubtful, especially given Handy's mental resistance, but it was possible if, as Chrysalis claimed, it allowed her to see through his eyes when he wore it. Handy pointed out she had brought him to this world with less connection. Crimson pointed out the extreme requirements of that ritual. Handy responded by pointing out that half a mile's distance was nothing compared to extra-veiler translocation.

Crimson had been extremely unsure of herself given the unorthodox nature of what Handy was asking, but given that was what old magic was, as far as Handy could discern, this should be nothing to her. Besides, it would prove her growth beyond the shadow of the Mistress that she should innovate and create new spells in old magic beyond her mistress' auspices. Crimson still squirmed and murmured something about it being dangerous. Having witnessed her come all this way out of nothing more than concern for him, Handy told her he trusted her implicitly. He didn't, not that much, but she didn't need to know that.

It did the trick anyway.

Handy was not fond of teleportation of whatever kind. Be it the hexes of the changelings that felt like being squeezed through a particularly fiery hose nozzle, their more ‘ordinary’ mage-assisted teleportation that felt like being hit everywhere on the body with a snowball simultaneously, the weird reality-shifting form of the warp shards that transported his armour despite its magic resistance, or the strange translocation that happened whenever he crossed certain thresholds in the abandoned city in the Greenwoods. Or hell, anything that happened in those damnable woods. Instantly transporting yourself from one place to another was all well and good, but it was immensely disconcerting and uncomfortable.

That was why he was so surprised when he felt virtually nothing at all when Crimson finally went through with the little experiment. It had worked nearly flawlessly after a half hour or so of Crimson preparing the ritual. The most disconcerting thing about it was watching the water break apart as Crimson's hoof traced an intricate, if somewhat broke-looking, arcane circle on the floor of the broken bazaar. The water split apart where her hoof touched it, leaving the wet but otherwise untouched and bare ground beneath with walls of water an inch or so high to either side of the lines that made the circle. It was completed by the strange, squiggly writing he recognised as old magic ‘carved’ into the water.

He had been standing in the centre of the water circle one moment, with Crimson whispering under her breath in a strange language he didn't recognise, just before a flash of light obscured his vision. He briefly thought it strange that he seemed to recall hearing different-sounding languages from both Crimson and others when they cast old magic. That was quickly replaced by alarm when his sight returned and he was standing before the senate of changeling rulers.

He blurted out an accusation at an important-looking changeling, grabbed Chrysalis, and they were both teleported out of there before anyone could so much as say boo to them. Handy hoped to God his assumption was right based on what he overheard in the dungeons and that Chrysalis' chains did not prevent magic being used on her. It was a hilarious security oversight looking back on it. It would be no matter so long as both of them were in the safety of the bazaar while the rest of the plan went down everything would go off without a hitch…

So of course something went wrong.

Handy rather dizzily pulled himself to his feet, but not before the high-backed chair he was gripping onto for balance fell over, and he went crashing back to the ground with it. He groaned and pulled himself upright, his vision swimming and his feet struggling to co-ordinate with his disorientation.

He shook himself awake. He was in a bedroom of some kind. It was a mess: furnishings strewn everywhere, broken tables, and the bed torn up. It was unnecessarily large and dark, and the only light came from that strange crystal sphere behind him.

"Where the hell…?" he managed with a whisper. He drew out his hammer on reflex and cautiously stepped forward. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

He still did not know where he was but it definitely wasn't where he was supposed to be. He got his first clue when he drew near a wall that felt velvety, as if covered in felt. He grabbed the hem of what turned out to be the drapes of a window leading to a balcony and found himself looking over Lepidopolis in all is dark glory. Only then did he realise he was still in the palace.

'Fuck!' he cursed inwardly, alarmed that he was stuck here. He really didn't want to be here when the rest of the plan came to fruition. He wasn't like Jacques. He needed to get out of here now! Moving to the door of the room, his sight finally grew accustomed to the dark. He didn't hear anything beyond the wooden doors. That was surprising. This must be new—nearly all of the doors he'd encountered down here had been made out of some kind of slate.

He paid it no mind and pushed open the door, eager to take advantage of an opportunity to sneak out of this death trap of a room and find his way out of the palace before someone cornered him. He opened the door and strode confidently into the empty apartments beyond.

Except they weren't empty.

The apartments were occupied by at least a dozen changelings in various states of battle readiness. Some wore armour, some had their hooves near their spears, and more than a couple were apparently eating sandwiches and drinking while playing cards. One guy in the back near an active oven had a brightly lit magical staff, robe, and wizard hat. He even had a beard, the first one he ever saw on a changeling.

All of them looked at him dumbfounded, mouths agape. Apparently the doors to the bedroom Handy had just emerged from were warded to be soundproofed from both sides.

"…Bollocks."

--=--

"I don't know where he is! Release me at once!" Chrysalis shouted. Crimson let out a frustrated noise and allowed the changeling queen to drop once more into the water at their hooves. Keeping her spell books levitated above the water, Crimson then made her way past Chrysalis deeper into the bazaar. Chrysalis caught her breath from where the magic had been pressing against her throat and eyed the red pony suspiciously.

"How… did you get here?" she managed after a time.

"It doesn't matter. Come on."

"I am not going anywhere with you," Chrysalis said sternly as she got to her hooves. Crimson looked over her shoulder at her with a raised brow. "I am Queen Chrysalis of the—PBBLTBBLTLTPLBTLT!"

Crimson lifted her hoof from the floor, her horn aglow with old magic as Chrysalis recovered from the high pressured blast of water she got straight to the face when Crimson pressed her hoof to the water just so.

"HOW DARE YOU—PPPBBBBLLLTLTTRGERTGRTGRST!"

"What was that?" Crimson asked, lifting her hoof again. "I couldn't quite make it out."

"I said—PPPBBBLLLT!" Crimson lifted her hoof and let the magic dissipate from her horn.

"Are you done yet?" Crimson asked the panting and thoroughly drenched queen. Chrysalis didn't respond. "Good. Now shake yourself off and come with me. We are not done yet.” Chrysalis flat out growled at the warlock but said nothing, looking around her. The bazaar's roof was broken in places, with the biggest gap being where… where it lay. Tentatively, and having nowhere else to go, she followed after Crimson, turning a corner after the dark mage.

And then she came face-to-tooth with the one thing she never wanted to be near ever again.

Chrysalis stared at the very dead dragon for a few moments, watching the water coruscate over the bone of its massive scowl that had not all that long ago very nearly reduced her to cinders and ash with unnatural fire. She had only kept it where it lay for the proof of her accomplishments. Well, the human's accomplishments, but it furthered her ends when the other changelings inevitably started coming. It was her trophy no matter how much it set her ill at ease to look out from her balcony and see it spread over her city. They had recovered the statue at least.

"Get in." Chrysalis blinked herself aware once more.

"What?"

"I said get in," Crimson said from atop the dragon skull. Chrysalis looked down from her to the skull and back again.

"You mean… in there?"

"Yes."

There was no sound apart from the crash of the water upon the skeleton's mighty back for a few interminable seconds.

"You can't be serious."

"I am deathly serious. Hurry up, you can sit in the mouth."

"…How about no?"

--=--

Handy greeted the sudden audience of changelings enthusiastically.

A gleam of silver, a loud crack, a changeling sent careening off of his seat as the room filled with panic.

Very enthusiastically.

A spear thrust, yells in multiple languages, miscommunication between the various groups represented by this squadron, another changeling sent to the floor by Handy’s hammer blows.

But alas, numbers were numbers, and there was only so much one could do when all one had was but a simple warhammer.

Handy withdrew into the bedroom once again, having only managed to take out one of the changelings for certain… he thought. He gave another one a tremendous whack with his hammer, but that guy wore a breastplate, so he'd be fine. The mage in the back of the room gripped his staff in his forehooves, and Handy opted to not find out what kind of magic he used it for.

He slammed the door shut just in time to feel a tremendous force explode against it, nearly forcing him to the floor. Guess the mage's magic was on the siege warfare side of things.

"God damn it, you have got to be joking me…" He looked out to the window to his left. Crimson hadn't enacted the distraction yet. What the hell could be keeping her!?"

--=--

"Just get in the stupid dragon!"

"I am not getting in the stupid dragon!"

"It's dead; what is your problem!?"

"My problem is that it tried to eat me!"

"It's hardly going to eat you now, is it!?"

"That doesn't make me feel any better about riding in a cage made of dragon's teeth!"

"Look, you either get in the dragon right this instant, or I will make the skeleton eat you!"

--=--

Whatever it was, Handy was sure it had to be a good reason. Hopefully the delay wasn't due to Chrysalis ending up somewhere entirely unexpected like he did. In that case, everything had just gone to hell.

The door shook again, and this time Handy actually saw magical sparks dance along the enchan—infused wood. Handy briefly wondered why Thorax was so insistent on the terminology. What was the difference? A magic object was the same as a magic object, right?

The door he was pressing his shoulder against exploded, and Handy let out a roar of pain that he could not hear through the ringing in his ears. He clasped his right shoulder and upper arm which was now peppered with wood splinters that his clothes failed to block. He rolled back onto his side and pushed himself away from the door, hearing the chittering laughter of the changelings in the apartments outside. The dust cleared and he saw several of the changelings gathered beyond the ruined doorway.

In the confusion, the lazy guards, who ought to have been patrolling the palace ever since Crimson assaulted the front steps of the ziggurat, had gathered their weapons and armour. These were not the mismatched plate and steel weapons he had seen in the guards of the city below. These weapons were sable. Dark, and rough, the texture of the hard substance that coated the city, their weapons were the only things that gleamed in the low light, sharp and deadly.

Surprisingly for quadrupeds, they had shields. Those closest to him stood with their left most forelegs forward, and he could just make out a hint of an armoured hoof touching the floor beneath the oval shields. That meant they were attached to their legs somehow and angled away from their faces while their short spears were held in the crook of their right legs and levelled at him. Handy managed to pull himself to his feet and really began missing his armour. He felt naked and exposed without it at the best of times, but now he was facing down an angry gaggle of fae horses and their many sharp implements of death.

Yay.

They didn't move, however, for what little good that did Handy. The gathered shield wall parted at an angry bark from behind them, and Handy saw the approach of the mage changeling. He could see him better now, his eye plates a deep crimson and his mane a sick green, as was his elongated beard and ridiculous Fu Manchu moustache. The changeling barked something at him in an unfamiliar language, and a couple of the changelings behind him snickered.

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak wanker," Handy said sweetly in Irish, his tone at odds with his intent. Judging by the scowls, his audience had picked up on the mocking subtext.

"You die, intruder!" the wizard spat in broken Equestrian. He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. There was a crystal entwined in the staff's tip, held in place with what looked like rope that had been dipped in tar and blackened. The gem was colourless but grew bright, blue, and luminous as lightning crackled about it. Handy looked to dive out of the way, but there was nowhere to hide. The nearest cover would be the far side of the bed, but the magic would strike him before he crossed it. Curse him for a fool for not finding a way to bring his armour!

The wizard murmured something, and Handy saw his horn light up and change colour as magic flowed between it and his staff. Why a creature with a horn needed a magical staff for their wizardry was beyond Handy.

The lightning flashed out, numerous bolts striking areas all around the room, leaving blackened charred marks where they struck. The continuous blasts ensured Handy was going nowhere while the centre remained free of lightning strikes. The bed actually caught fire, and Handy let out an involuntary, inhuman shriek as he whirled around to face it. He backed up as much as he could without walking into a wall of lightning.

All the while, the centre of the gem-tipped staff grew brighter and brighter and crackled with raw power. The room was filled with the scent of burnt ozone, burning wood, and silk, and Handy could taste iron in his mouth and feel the warm touch of blood running from his nose. His eyes widened at the wizard as he threw his arms defensively before him.

A deafening thunderclap rebounded about the room, and the last thing Handy knew before his world turned white for the umpteenth time that day was the raw feeling of power coruscating through him and what felt like his soul leaving his body.

Well, that was what it felt like to him—he had no experience with being struck by lightning. Gingerly, he flexed the suddenly stiff muscles of his hand. His entire body thrilled with energy and, wonder of wonders, he could actually feel his left arm again! For the time anyway, for he could already feel it begin to tingle and numb once more. Everything felt stiff as though he had been sleeping on a hard surface, but none of his joints cracked. He pulled himself up from where he lay, heaped into a pile by the wall. Blinking his eyes back into focus, he saw the room blackened and torn asunder, worse than it had been before. The fire that had been on the bed had petered out. His alarm and fear tempered somewhat with this knowledge.

Something bright kept flashing nearby, but his scrambled mind couldn't focus on it. It wasn't until his hearing finally returned, as if emerging from a body of water and hearing the world come alive, did he finally look down. There, clasped in a dead man's grip, humming with power and glowing like an incandescent star, was his hammer. He could barely make out any of the details on its surface. Indeed, he could barely make out its shape, such was the brightness that hurt his eyes.

Arcs of magical lightning leapt from it and struck nearby objects. He jerked his foot away as it struck the floor, flinching once more when it struck some fine pot on a set of drawers next to him. However, it never struck him.

He shakily got to his feet, staring at the object in his grip in silent awe, and admittedly, some amount of fear. It had been struck in Manehatten with lightning and granted him a powerful hammer blow. This wizard had struck it with, apparently, everything he had.

Now the energy crackled happily about Handy's closed fist. If he had any doubts that the witch had done something to his war hammer, they were dispelled now and for good. The only question remained was what other kind of magic could it absorb and contain if it was struck. He heard coughing and looked out the ruined door to see the gathered changelings, themselves knocked back and discombobulated by the force of the blast, come to their senses. None of their shocked faces came close to the look of sheer fear on the mage himself when he pulled himself to his hooves. Handy looked to the hammer.

"Oh…" He looked back at the changelings gravely, barely able to hide his victorious smirk. "Oh, son."

--=--

Now you may be wondering, had Handy's plan gone right and he wasn't now re-enacting something from the prophecy of the Ragnarök on some poor bastards, what was next?

Well, in truth, the answer was 'another distraction'. Handy's plan didn't end just by getting Chrysalis out of harm's way—that was just the beginning. Once he got the senate hall of leaders nice and riled up, word would trickle back to the guards outside, who had grown tired and unfocused after hours of not finding the threat to the palace.

Then one of two things would occur: confusion and infighting, or all of them would hurry back to defend the palace, depending on the nature of the word that came forth. Either was good as far as Handy was concerned. In one they were already divided and likely to scatter, and in the other, they were all in one place and would scatter even more confusedly.

What could Handy do to sow confusion and division in their ranks? If your thoughts didn't automatically go to Crimson, you bring shame upon yourself and your family and your cow. Go sit in the corner.

But what could Crimson do? She was powerful, true, but was Handy really willing to risk her against an army that could outnumber, outmanoeuvre, and overpower a rogue wizard? Of course not.

So the plan involved throwing a dragon at them instead.

Yes. Really.

With a terrible, ominous groan that made the very earth rumble, buildings shook and reverberated across the entire city, and the great cadaver of the terrible wyrm appeared to come alive once more. Enraptured in fell green magicks, the shambling skeletal corpse emerged from the ruins that had been its final resting place. Its shattered ribcage and ruined spine proved no inconvenience as it rose on its rear legs, broken fragments of bones hovering in the air, lifted by currents of aetheric violence. Two massive claws clamped down on the ceiling of the ruined and abandoned bazaar, and its depthless eyes surveyed its old haunt with all the sovereignty of Death itself.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the whole world had stopped. That was before a booming, commanding voice echoed across the cityscape, unnaturally amplified by magic.

"I, Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings, command you to cease!" The voice emanated from atop the skull of the dragon, whereupon the changeling queen rode. Her horn lit up with incandescent light so that all could see her, whether they hung in air, skulked the streets below, or hid amidst the luminous flora of the cavern ceiling. All saw the queen riding atop a nightmare that should not be.

They didn't happen to see the unicorn warlock riding in its mouth, sweating from the effort of her magic as the interior of the skull lit up with arcane circles and runes drawn into them with chalk. Her eyes were aglow and trailing mist, her horn incandescent, her mouth pouting as she snorted in indignation. She wanted to be the one riding the dragon's skull and instilling fear and terror into all of the changelings, but somehow Chrysalis had talked her into swapping places. The idea was for Chrysalis' voice to come from the dragon's mouth, but this worked too. She guessed.

The various parchments and pages of the spell book she needed to perform this intricate and taxing rite flurried about her. She needed to repeat them again and again, and that meant memorizing them again and again after each spell. It was exhausting work, and she could feel the strain getting to her. However, if her master was right, this shouldn't be necessary for too long.

"Foolish lings who dare challenge my power! You stand before me and my home!? Be gone before I crush you like the worthless vermin you are!" The dragon's maw opened, and Crimson's horn flared in brightness, revealing nothing but the horrendous visage of a tremendous ball of green fire held in the great skeleton's jaws. An unearthly roar shook the very cavern walls in challenge.

They had accounted for everything. They had accounted for a number of the changelings to attack the dragon while others flew to the palace to protect their lieges. They had accounted for the changelings to take up formations and seek to make an impenetrable wall between the palace and the great undead dragon. They had even, at worst, expected them to charge the dragon en masse, which would require a rather large degree of effort on the part of Chrysalis and Crimson to defend themselves. Between the dragon as an animate shield and Crimson's powerful magic, however, they might do enough damage to dissuade the majority of them.

They had not expected the entire swarm that hung in the air above the city like a living mass of blackness to break and route.

To a ling, they all had fucking booked it.

"…Huh," Chrysalis murmured.

"What happened!? What’s going on?" Crimson called out.

"They uh…" Chrysalis looked around her, wide-eyed and surprised to see the swarms of changelings dissipate, flying to the respective districts where their colonial kindred were housed. Some swarms, she noticed, flew into the darkness, towards the entrances to the lower cities. "They just… left."

"What!?"

"I said they all ran away!" Chrysalis shouted down, her voice no longer amplified.

"All of them!?"

"Yes!"

"So I can let this vision drop!?"

"If you feel you must." Chrysalis sighed, then stumbled as she steadied herself, the dragon having moved expectantly. The obscene, ossified husk steadied itself on four claws, and tremendous cracks could be heard as the bones locked in place through the power of the old magic coruscating through it. "What are you doing!?"

"Keeping… up… appearances!" Crimson managed as the head fixed upon the palace itself before locking in place with a jarring movement that threw Chrysalis from the skull. Her wings shot out and buzzed in the air as she caught herself from falling.

"Be careful, pony, you almost… Pony?" Chrysalis hovered near the now stationary dragon skull. Once again she looked up at it and had to suppress a shudder. Had she really managed to ride atop this thing? She flew towards the closed mouth, uncomfortably noting how some of the teeth were as long as she was tall. "Crimson?"

Nothing.

She flew underneath the skull's mighty jaw, feeling the coruscating magical aftereffects of the pony's sorcery lingering around its tremendous bulk. She emerged into the skull through a space beneath the jaw and looked around the eerily lit interior. The various strange runes and markings the pony had drawn still thrummed with eldritch power. The unicorn herself was located towards the front of the jaw, near the dragon's incisors… or its equivalent.

Nestled in her cloak, resting upon where the jaw bones drew together, the pony lay upon her tomes and parchments, keeping them safe. She was sleeping fitfully, passed out from the exertion of her endeavours. Chrysalis looked down upon her, noting curiously the smaller creature was in the grasp of tremendous fear. Whatever dreams assailing her were unpleasant in the extreme, yet not once did she hear Crimson whimper.

Several things tempted Chrysalis then: fear wasn't the most filling emotion to feed from, but it had a curious and intoxicating taste and power to it. Another was taking some of the magic parchments from under her. That was truly powerful magic, far more powerful than a mage as young as this had any right to be wielding with such little consequence. A smile touched upon her muzzle at the thought.

Alas, common sense overcame her greed as she left well enough alone. Whatever old magic was, it brought tremendous trouble with it, not least of which was Handy himself. The sooner she was rid of it, the sooner her changelings were safe from it. She also got the distinct impression that if she fed from Crimson and even the tiniest evidence of such was noticed, Handy would be markedly upset with her. That would be unhealthy.

For once, she elected not to antagonise the human any further. Withdrawing from the sleeping Crimson, her horn glowed. Illusion magic was not her speciality—well, at least when it was casted upon other people, and anyling who bothered to so much as give a cursory scan would uncover it. The vision of Crimson asleep in the dragon's maw shimmered and wavered until nothing was there than what one expected to see: bone, empty of any unwary pony.

"Sleep tight, young warlock," she said before departing the skull.

She hovered in the air, at a loss of what to do. The sky over the city was empty, the streets deserted. Changelings everywhere cowering in fear of her while her enemies were all in one location. The only ones who she could consult for further elements of the plan were missing or passed out from exhaustion respectively.

A flash of light caught her eye, and she looked up to towards the top of the ziggurat. More flashes came from the windows; something was happening up there. She also briefly noted that it was roughly where the location her dwellings within the palace were located.

She flew towards it.

--=--

Jacques, Thorax, and the other changelings had moved the second they saw the skeleton move.

They parted after a certain junction. Thorax's job would be easier now with the distraction, being as it was to take Façade and Glimmer with her. Their job was to find where the disaffected of Chrysalis’ loyalists were being held—her generals, her soldiers and those Sidhes deemed too dangerous. Jacques briefly caught her glancing back before the three of them disappeared down a darkened street which descended downwards.

He could only hope, after seeing the practical army of changelings above him disperse to the four winds, whatever guards that would impede her way would be similarly shaken by what occurred and abandon their posts. Briefly, he felt a flicker of concern before he chided himself and doubled down on his emotions. It was imperative he kept that iron ball in his heart right where every single changeling could see it.

However, his brief lapse had not gone unnoticed.

"I never agreed to this…" Quartz muttered beside them as the two galloped through the deserted streets. Jacques glanced at him for a moment, the changeling glaring back at him.

"Just keep your mouth shut and follow my lead." Jacques’ magic tightened the clasp on his pack that contained little party favours from Thorax. "You won't have to do anything."

"Then why am I even here!?"

"Plausibility. Just enough to get a hoof in the door. That's all we need.”

Getting up the unguarded front of the palace was a hassle because somepony had blown up the first hundred or so steps, but after some effort, they managed the exhausting climb. They had almost reached the entrance before they were finally accosted.

"Halt! Seize that pony!" a voice called from ahead of them. Jacques couldn't make out exactly how many of the palace guards lurked in the darkness of the palace entrance, but if he pulled this off, there could be a million and he wouldn't need to worry about a thing.

Handy didn't give him this task for his fighting ability.

"Oh cease your blathering. There is a dragon on the loose and you're fretting over an infiltrator!?" Jacques barked back at the guards. The changelings slowed as they advanced, surrounding him and Quartz. Several snarled at the blue-shelled changeling, who hissed in return. "Now out of my way; I need to reach the senate. I have important information."

The one in charge pushed forward. Unlike the others, his helmet shone a dull blue in the pale light.

"Who are you!? And what is this Chrysalis-loving filth doing here!?" the changeling challenged. Quartz bristling visibly. Jacques glanced back. So far so good. It seemed like knowledge of the Black Guard's little secret project was not terribly widespread amongst the changelings. Another little secret the Archon was hiding from his peers.

"Calm down, we're all 'Chrysalis loving filth now’," Jacques teased with a cruel smile.

"Watch your words!"

"Watch yours," Jacques challenged. "You're not the one commanding a dragon." As if to emphasise his point, the looming shape of the dragon in the midst of the city turned, and terrible, cracking noises could be heard echoing across the now silent city. "I don't think you need to worry about who my liege is, but rather I assume yours might like to hear what I have to say. I just came back from the surface."

"I'm not taking any chances. Seize them!" he shouted, keeping his eyes on the dragon in the distance. Jacques sighed and reached for his rapier.

"Wait!" a dry, cracking voice commanded. The captain froze before turning to face the newcomer. "We would like to hear what he has to say."

"Your Majesty, you shouldn't be out here. It isn't safe."

"Oh stand aside, child. Nowhere's safe, especially not in there with that lot." The voice drew nearer, and Jacques could make out the advancing forms of four changelings and something large in-between them.

The four changelings were larger than average and completely covered in stark white armour that neither shone nor glimmered, but was dull like that of the palace guards around him. Each plate was shaped, their legs looked whole, and their armour exaggerated an idealised changeling physique. At least he assumed that was what it was supposed to look like—it didn't stop their full-faced helms from looking like death masks. The four marched silently at the corners of the palanquin between them, consisting of a four poster with drawn sheets, obscuring whoever lay within. Whoever it was, it wasn't the Archon, which meant this might just go off without a hitch after all.

The guards backed off, and Jacques found himself uncomfortably the focus of the four larger changeling death guards whose expressionless masks turned to look down at him. A wracking cough shook the palanquin before the figure within continued.

"Speak. If it's important enough for the whole senate, I will judge it so. Be warned, if you waste my time, infiltrator, I will throw you to the guards. I care not if your liege controls a dead dragon!" Jacques smiled and bowed his head.

"Fair enough, your Highness," he said obsequiously, though he had not even the foggiest which Changeling potentate he was addressing. It hardly mattered. "I bring word of the Archon's treachery."

"I am bored already. What do I care if the Archon betrayed his word on this or that changeling, much less your own liege?"

"I think you'll find he betrayed much more than just Chrysalis..." He took the pack off from his side and opened it, revealing the spoils of Thorax's raid on the hideouts of the Archon's changelings in Blackport. "How much do you really know about his involvement with the Black Isles?"

--=--

You know, all things considered, it was funny.

BANG BANG, MAXWELL'S SILVER HAMMER CAME DOWN UPON HER HEAD~

Handy had always disliked the Beatles' music and had been certain nothing of theirs had polluted the sanctity of his phone, as he hated this song in particular.

BANG BANG, MAXWELL'S SILVER HAMMER MADE SURE SHE WAS DEAD~

Really, come on now. It was a song about some sociopath going to his girlfriend's house and murdering her in cold blood with a silver hammer. Then a school teacher, and then a judge because reasons.

Right now, he couldn't care less.

Thunder wracked the interior of the palace as music mingled in the air over the panicked screaming of many terrified changelings and the sound of the building shaking as if it was under siege. All the while, Handy was grinning like a loon.

"Don't run! Don't run! Come back! I just want to say hello!" He swung the hammer around and struck a wall, lightning coruscating from it like a living thing, tearing through the wall and causing the corridor to collapse as terrified changeling guards on the other end scrambled to get away, making it through a doorway before the roof fell down on them.

The unfortunate ones had made the mistake of standing up to him, with only one swing of his hammer wrecking enough destruction to sunder armour and send changelings flying in every direction, and the ones in the immediate vicinity were left stunned and writhing on the floor with electric shocks running through their bodies.

It was cathartic.

The raw power running through him was like nothing he had ever felt. He wielded lightning in his hands yet stood unharmed. He could feel the power surging through his arms and body, and from time to time his teeth chattered. Everywhere he struck, a destructive release of magical energy followed.

Months of bullshit, months of horror and suffering and pain, and right now at this moment he had the power to bring down buildings.

Of course he was going to use it.

He deliberately sought out any more changeling mages but only found two. One was obliging enough to strike at him with magic and gave his hammer a nice little recharge. Handy thanked him by knocking him into next week. The other one he found had skedaddled, abandoning his fellow when it became apparent Handy was targeting him specifically. After that, if there were any more, Handy didn’t see them. Word must have gotten around as he didn't run into any more guards either, unfortunately. Hell, he wasn't even sure where he was. He had gotten so caught up in the sheer rush of it all that he had lost track.

He couldn't see any windows, which meant he was somewhere on the interior, so he kept walking on. He made his way to a cloistered hall. The ceiling was high and arched, but the room was otherwise empty, with more doors off to the sides and large ones at either end.

The only thing occupying the room was a large statue in the centre of the wall on the far side of the room. It was tall and proud and stood up on two legs with its forelimbs held out before it. It was a changeling, sort of. It looked off somehow, though Handy wasn't sure why. He was too busy darting this way and that, twitchy and looking for enemies he could unleash his frustrations on.

Finding none, his focused turned back to the changeling statue, noticing it had a cocky grin. Handy found this unacceptable. With a manic smile, he approached the statue and struck its base with his war hammer. The magic all but emptied into the carved stone, and the base split apart with a tremendous crack. The lightning split the statue as bolts of magical energy shot up through it, exploding the legs and shattering the body and sending pieces flying everywhere. The head crashed onto the floor almost whole and intact, landing at his feet.

His hammer sparked and shimmered, though reduced in its brilliance from so much of the energy being spent. Handy found he was breathing heavily. Strange, he didn't feel exhausted. He felt alive!

Then he noticed his entire body was shaking, and slowly, painfully slowly, he came to his senses. He dropped the hammer and the weapon struck the floor with a spark as he stumbled back from it. He shook himself aware.

"W-W-What…" he managed through chattering teeth. Only now did he realise the potential dangers of constantly holding onto his hammer while it was brimming with God only knew how many volts of electricity… or magic electricity, or whatever the hell that stuff was. He could barely move any of the muscles in his right arm, and he was lucky he could pry his fingers off of the hammer's haft. They were taut like bowstrings. "What… What did I…?"

He looked at the destruction he had wrought on the statue for no other reason than the whim that had struck him. Only now did hints of memories come back to him, and he realised he recognised the face that had been on the statue. He looked at the now severed statue head. This had been the same statue from where he had taken the war hammer from in the first place. Chrysalis must have had it brought into the palace for some reason, and in his blindness he had destroyed it. He had thought back over the past few minutes of wreaking destruction along the palace. Not that he regretted it—that was immensely fun.

It was just… He suddenly realised how little control he had over himself while he did so. It reminded him very much of his first night as a vampire. He was intoxicated, high on power without the experience to wield it properly. Whatever had been done to his hammer, and whatever power it held when charged, it had gone to his head in a similar fashion. He stared at the weapon contemplatively.

"What the hell did that witch do to it?" he wondered aloud.

He didn't have long to think however, because that was roughly when something else shook the entire building to its foundations.

--=--

To say the Archon was having a bad day would be putting it mildly. Everything had been going so well...

One by one, the various potentates and rulers of the changelings left the senate chambers. The halls were awash with shouted orders, condemnations, and insults as the place was flooded with guards. He was shouting himself hoarse trying to maintain order, but noling would listen to him after the human’s accusations. Several had descended the forum and burst through the doors, themselves and their entourages spilling into the grand hallway leading to a central rotunda from where the palace split off in several directions. Several of them had already left and were beyond his ability to recall. Somehow that damnable lich in her palanquin had already fled the scene without anyling seeing her leave!

The only ones not raising their voices were the Hierophant and the anti-Hierophant, who had taken to conversing quietly in one corner. He snarled, for now the conspiracies would begin. He needed to reassert his authority now.

Before he could say anything, a voice cut across the noise.

"Archon Salintorix!" the voice cried. It was the ruler of the Stormlings with her death guard entourage. They advanced steadily across the rotunda towards the gaggle of rulers and their far more numerous courtiers and servants. "Answer for your crimes!"

The call was chorused by many in the gathered assembly, some genuinely angry, others quietly sneering, grateful for an opportunity to see the tall and proud Archon brought low. Salintorix gazed this way and that, staring into the defiant eyes of even lowly independent heads of sidhes.

"I will not answer for the empty accusations of an abomination!" the Archon cried. "Chrysalis is a known scoundrel and waste of flesh who employs monsters that should not be, and I should defend myself before whatever such a thing says at the behest of such a person?!"

"It is known you traffic with the Black Isles ponies!" a voice accused from somewhere in the crowd.

"And who to a ling here can tell me in all honesty, with their hearts open so that we all may see and taste their sincerity, that they have not had truck with those not of our kindred? For the good of their changelings? For their own gain? Who here has such integrity!?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought!" the Archon shouted. "I have committed no treason. Rather, there is an intruder in this palace who cuts through our defences and shudders the entire ziggurat with its force! There is an unknown terror at the behest of a fallen queen who should not exist, and even the rotten corpse of that dead dragon that lay outside has risen again! You accuse me of treachery!? What foul pacts must Chrysalis have made to control such fell powers!?"

"I am more interested in what fell pacts you have made with Princess Galaxia," the voice within the palanquin said smoothly. She lacked the two-toned voices of most changelings, but her voice was no less eerie for its lack. She coughed. "Perhaps you can explain why you had sold out the invasion of six years past?"

"Chrysalis' little ploy?" Salintorix laughed. "And let her rule us as the Triumphant? I think not." He cast his disdainful, imperious gaze across the gathered assembly. His eyes burning into each of their own, framed as his face was by the wrought iron that wrapped around it like a cage. "Who here who had the strength to rule for more than a decade does not remember agreeing with me in my plot to abandon her to her fate?" Again, silence.

"Indeed." Salintorix turned back as the Stormling ruler spoke again. "Pity it was not your concern for changeling kind, or even your petty ambitions that sowed the seeds of your desire to see Chrysalis' downfall."

"What are you implying?" Salintorix snarled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, monsieur Archon, surely you can guess?" Jacques slinked out from behind the palanquin, the tell-tale Chrysalis loyalist slinking behind him. Rare were the blue-backs amongst the ranks of the other colonies.

That was not what caused the Archon to seethe with rage.

"You dare accuse me of treachery Stormling… YET YOU BRING A PONY HERE INTO OUR MIDST!" he bellowed, pointing an accusatory hoof at Jacques. For once, Jacques did not wear his cocky smile as predatory eyes up and down the halls leading to the senate forum locked on him. There was rather a lot of changelings here, and whether or not he could hide his emotions wouldn't do him all that good if he was to be overcome and captured.

"You flatter me, monsieur Archon," Jacques said smoothly, but kept his face expressionless. If the changeling in the palanquin had known he was actually a pony rather than just an infiltrator who didn't bother to drop his disguise, she said nothing. Clever girl. "I would have been delighted to accept such an invitation. Alas, I let myself in, I am afraid. With help of course." He nodded to Quartz, who tried his best not to flinch when every eye in the room locked on him simultaneously. Jacques powered on.

"No, my good stallion—"

"What are you all waiting for? Remove him!" Salintorix demanded.

"I rather think we should hear what he has to say," the queen of the Stormlings interceded. Had there been any amidst the mumbling audience likely to follow the Archon's direction, they now hesitated. It was one thing to gang up on one political enemy; it was another thing to take sides between two major players.

"Thank you, bon madame," Jacques continued quickly before anything else happened. He withdrew several papers from the satchel on his side. "The Archon here, in return for favouritism with Princess Galaxia of the Black Isles, perverted the course of pretty much any and every major plot or machination the major changeling powers engaged in. Something tells me you all already knew that," Jacques said, grateful for the little ball of iron keeping his true feelings a secret. He only hoped nopony could hear his heart hammering away inside his chest. Before meeting Thorax, he had no idea changelings weren't all united in purpose. Now, thanks to Handy, he was in the thick of a hornet's nest of sneering emotivores with daggers behind their backs.

Apparently Handy believed Jacques' guile would help him get the needed points across, and he'd be able to extract himself with wit alone if necessary. If not, he'd figure something out. He had spent two hours convincing him to agree to this, and Jacques still wasn't sure how he got talked into it. Well… nothing for it now.

"You probably knew nothing about teaching her mageocracy pretty much every secret of the lore of changeling magicks," he continued, before raising a hoof and tapping his chest pointedly, "including this little trick right here. Isn't that right, Archon?"

"Apostasy!" the hierophants yelled in unison. The high priests, both the orthodox and the heretic, snarled. To see the pair come to agree condemnation on anything was a shock. The significance was lost on Jacques, for he just saw two dourly dressed changelings spit fury at the Archon.

"The secrets of the Outer Rings are not for anyling not of the kindred!" cried the one with the hat.

"What else have you betrayed? Hmm? Have you shared secrets that are not meant for your lesser, let alone foreigners!?" cried the one with the blindfold.

"I have done no such thing! The pony lies!"

"Oh do I now?" Jacques said. He opened his heart.

"What are you doing, you mad pony!?" Quartz hissed at him.

"Showing my hoof. Roll with it," Jacques replied quietly before raising his voice. "I am Jacques of Blackport, swordsstallion for hire and, for more years than I care to recount, an agent of the Viceroy of the Black Isles Enclave. And yes, that means I am… was an agent in the service of the very princess Archon Salintorix shared so many wonderful secrets with in return for favours." He tossed the sheaf of papers, treaties, and other missives amongst them to the floor where they scattered. Royal insignias could be seen, along with seals and signatures, and those nearby cried foul when they saw them. "Oh, and there's far more where that comes from, isn't there, Salintorix? Oh, what fun it was all those many, many, many times I had to interact with your changelings on my former government's behalf. And what fun it was dodging the occasional assassin. I do miss the regular Saturday night transactions. Particularly those oh so interesting-looking relics you sold off to the viceroyalty."

"What relics? What is he talking about?" Queen Amethyst spoke up at last, the young queen having held her word until now. She had been leaning close to the Archon's camp as she was an old blood, but her following was comparatively tiny compared to most others. She felt it in her best interests to align with someling powerful, and seeing as the Archon had successfully stolen the city out from under Chrysalis, he made the most sense. But now…

"Oh, I couldn't possibly speculate…" Jacques said, inspecting a hoof. "Ancient artefacts humming with magic are not my speciality, you see, but there was one that caught my eye… Strange, it was a parchment, you see. Old, yet no age ever seemed to wear away at it. It was incomplete with many parts torn from its sides and corners."

He looked up. Most of the changelings were looking at him curiously. Some were whispering conspiratorially, while a few, notably the most impressive-looking, were looking at him with a blankness he was more than familiar with. That meant they were dreading his next words, fearing what he could be referring to. Good.

He opened his mouth and described what he saw upon the parchment, and the entire hall erupted in outrage.

The Archon was forced out into the centre of the hall, looking around as the changelings hurled abuse and condemnations. Others threw harder things: stones, shoes, and in a few cases, literal daggers that clanked uselessly against the floor. Jacques had to blink at that. Anywhere else, throwing daggers at political enemies usually resulted in the guards flooding the hall and dragging the offenders away from each other. Changelings apparently looked at things differently.

"Traitor!"

"You sold out our salvation!"

"How can we ever find home now!?"

"Gods damn you, Salintorix the Pitiable!"

"Silence!" Salintorix demanded, turning this way and that, his horn aglow, tossing the things thrown at him back into the crowds, regardless of from whence they originated. Amethyst quietly slunk back into the crowd. Like the Archon, she had not taken servants or guards in with her. Now that seemed foolish, so she distanced herself from him now in his hour of disgrace. "That worthless Key had never saved us in over seven centuries of effort, even when it was whole! You blind fools still hope to survive the Wither with its tattered remains!? "

"Hope is all we have left!" Everyone in the room turned to the new voice. The halls that led from the senate hall graced the summit of the ziggurat, the tall walls coming to an end were the great windows began. The windows soared and connected the stone of the palace to the cavern ceiling. Upon an opening, near the base of the windows, towering above the gathered assembly stood Chrysalis, framed in the multihued light of the forest of luminescent moss and flora that covered the cavern above. "Why do you think I took this city back in the first place?"

--=--

Thorax barrelled bodily into the armoured changeling. The bright green backed warrior grunted in pain before she backed up, turned, and bucked, sending both rear hooves squarely into his jaw and knocking him out. Façade and Glimmer fell upon the last two remaining guards. The three reconvened near Thorax as she rummaged through the bodies, searching for the infused key to open the great doors to the prison vault.

The two stood in silence over her for a moment before she slowed her work, sighing.

"What is it?" she asked at last, without looking up.

"…It's good to see you again, Thorax," Façade said at last.

"Listen, about last time, we parted… on somewhat bad terms," Glimmer continued.

"It's fine," Thorax said before continuing her search. "I didn't think things would turn out like this either." She finally smiled when she successfully managed to find the key. The small stone cylinder bore three strangely shaped protrusions and was laced with straight, angular, glowing lines of alternating red and green light. "If it's all the same, nectar is on me when we get back to our sidhes."

Façade and Glimmer looked at each other for a moment with uncertainty.

"Y-Yeah…"

"About that…" Thorax paused.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Façade continued. "It's just… we kinda swore… We'll tell you about it later. Let's… Let's just free the others."

Thorax eyed both of them for a moment before narrowing her gaze.

"Sure. We'll talk later," she murmured before turning back to the door. She slid the key in and turned, hearing the groaning rumble of stone on stone as the mechanisms began to work to open the vault and free her colony.

Whatever was worrying them could wait.

She was too busy enjoying the feelings of gratitude and relief that practically flooded out of the doors towards her.

--=--

The Archon landed hard on the stone floor, having been blasted across the hall and landing in the centre of the forum through the great senate hall doors. Chrysalis landed lightly on the ground in front of the Stormling contingent. She glanced back at Jacques with a raised eyebrow, then looked at the palanquin before turning back to face the gathered changelings.

"My friends…" she said sweetly, "my… kindred. How good of you to finally see the error of your ways!" She was not addressed in response from any quarter, though the gathered factions regarded her warily. "I'm so glad I could finally persuade you away from the good Archon's… games." She smirked and strode confidently amongst them. Not a single changeling said a word against her, knowing the power balance had been so radically upset in little over the space of a few hours, more than a few were reconsidering their alliances and schemes. That and a goodly number of them knew Chrysalis now had very good reasons to come down hard on them. It did not do to poke the lioness in her den.

Salintorix struggled to pull himself up off of the ground. Chrysalis lit her horn and fired another blast of magic at the fallen Archon, sending him back to the floor.

"No no, don't get up," Chrysalis smiled. "I'll come to you~"

"Do not come near me, you worm…" Salintorix snarled, bleeding from the parts where his iron cage mask met his flesh. "You are unworthy…"

"Oh, I am unworthy, am I? Hmhmhm, I don't think you've got quite as firm a grasp on the situation as you think, dear Salintorix. Look around." Chrysalis waved a hoof. "Yesterday you ruled this city, with all these others bickering away under you, for you to manipulate as you saw fit, with me as your captive. Now? Noling will stand with you. Not even if I am here all on my lonesome~"

The Archon looked up, now alone and empty in the senate hall, with all of the changelings on the far side of the great double doors lining the hallway, watching him, some laughing. The judgement and glee in their eyes was too much.

He slammed his hoof down, and the ground cracked at his touch. Dust and small stones that had broken away lifted upwards as energy coursed through the very air itself.

"I tried… to include all of you. I tried… doing it the peaceful way, with as little sacrifices as possible. I worked… with the princess so that with her arcane secrets, we could all survive in comfort and security until the very inevitable end of our time. But if you will not have peace under me…" Salintorix fumed, his words carrying a strange power. A white circle of fire came to life, bursting into flames and slowly drawing a circle around him. The customary green of changeling magic that coursed through his horn turned a ghostly, fiery white. When he opened his eyes there was such a piercing look of utter hate that Chrysalis halted in her steps. "Then you shall have war."

The ground exploded, torrents of fire erupting upwards all over the forum, magical sigils and symbols materialising in the air around the Archon. The brilliance was near blinding, and Chrysalis took to the air as she felt the ground rumble beneath her. The sigils launched from Salintorix and sped across the air in blinding trails of dazzling light. Where they struck, walls exploded and changelings died in blinding flashes of light. They left nothing behind but the metal of their armours and ornaments and the ashes of their remains.

Chaos ensued. Magic spells by loyal mages shielded their masters as they took flight from the halls. Brave soldiers put themselves between the furious Archon and their leaders, and all the while, pulsing walls of magic erupted from the Archon, knocking changelings off their hooves and out of the air, making their escape twice as difficult. Chrysalis saw all this and let out a wailing cry of anger.

"So! The hermit alicorn taught you her magic in return for your chicanery, did she!?" Chrysalis bellowed, creating a shield over herself and firing arrows of magical changeling sorcery to the ground, intercepting the arcane missiles of the Archon. He looked up, the distraction buying the others time. "How many of our secrets did you trade away for that, I wonder?"

Salintorix didn't respond, merely standing there. The torrents of fire that erupted from the floors of the senate hall settled, and all the finery that hung from the ceiling was set ablaze. He ceased his magical assaults, and the changelings took the opportunity to scatter. All except for the young queen Amethyst, who separated from the stampeding herd of changelings, taking to the air and hanging around a corner, watching.

The Archon's horn continued to glow luminously as he stared up at her.

And then all at once, an eruption of magical force thundered from his horn. Chrysalis' eyes widened as she fired everything she had in response. The beams crashed into each other with tremendous force, the building shaking and the air crackling with eldritch energy as the arcane power of pony magic clashed with all the learned sorceries of changeling arts.

The contest caused walls to break apart, columns to tumble, and masonry to linger in the air, gravitating around the central mass of conflicting magic. The Archon was at the top of his power, rested, well fed, and brimming to the tip of his horn with the emotional energy that all changeling fed from. Not an ounce of that was being used to fuel the magic he now wielded. The same could not be said for Chrysalis. Her magic was weakened, her horn strained. Her face was held in a desperate grimace of pain and effort, but in the end, the conclusion was inevitable.

Chrysalis' magic broke, and the Archon's blast tore her beam aside and collided with her horn.

A flash of light, a thunderous explosion, and a shockwave rocked the entire palace and broke the windows far above them. Broken shards of glass showered outwards, covering the ziggurat as Chrysalis was sent flying out into the darkness. The Archon stood with a mere wince for all the trouble it had caused him. White fire caroused along the stonework in little patches here and there, and the senate was all but destroyed in the contest. That hardly mattered.

"Heh… hehehe!" He threw his head back in laughter. "You thought to challenge me!?" he shouted with incredulity to the empty halls as he strode to the central rotunda, passing the ash and discarded weapons. “Even with all of this, even with revealing all my secrets and treacheries, did you honestly think you had a chance? Did any of you truly think you could subjugate me? I am Archon Salintorix and I will not be the lesser of any changeling! Who could think to challenge me and live!?”

That was roughly when a thunderbolt's worth of 'fuck you' danced across the ground and slammed into the Archon's side, knocking him from his feet for a brief moment as his body spasmed uncontrollably. He recovered with a start, drawing in breath rapidly as he scrambled back to his feet, his mane wild and his expression manic as he cast his maddened gaze towards who would dare to interlope.

Calmly walking down the central hall towards the rotunda came the abomination. His robes were cut to ribbons and practically hung from his limbs, his face obscured beneath dirt, dust, and rivulets of blood falling from his nose, covering his mouth and jaw in a bright red at odds with the pale colouration of his dust covered hair and skin. He carried in both hands a silver war hammer that crackled with magical power as he strode along the cracked ground where the arc of lightning had torn it up before striking Salintorix.

"Evenin’," the Pale One simply said.

--=--

Amethyst recovered groggily, covered as she was in parts of rubble and ash. She winced as she moved her shoulders, hurt but not badly so, she tried to get her bearings.

She saw the Archon by the central rotunda, facing away from her. His horn was glowing and his expression was furious. She did not see who he was yelling at, being around a corner. She could barely even hear him over the ringing of her ears. It didn't matter. She stretched her wings and tested them. Wincing, she took to the air and rose to the windows. The Archon didn't notice her. At this point, she was just fine with that. She reached the windows and cast a look back. The senate building was in utter ruins and the city looked empty, absent of anyling in the streets far below. The only changelings she could see were those of the various would-be rulers of changelings flee to the winds to their own strongholds within the city. And there, like a horrifying sentinel, stood Chrysalis' dead dragon. It had indeed risen from where it lay.

She clenched her teeth. She didn't like the Archon, noling did, but it would have been so much easier if Chrysalis just accepted her fate. Hell, if she'd just accept her offer, she could have avoided all of this! They all could! But no, Chrysalis had to summon her pet monsters and turn the entire world upside down.

Amethyst looked down, and could make out the form of Chrysalis in a lower courtyard on one of the ziggurat’s many surfaces. She was still moving. Amethyst looked back one more time before taking to the air and flying down.

--=--

Handy immediately regretted all of the things.

He was now running full tilt towards the Archon after the creature started yelling inarticulately and his horn began to glow. Handy had just enough time to close half of the distance before he was forced to jump to the side, landing hard on the stone ground as the Archon fired magical blasts at him. Handy just about made out the strange floating shapes and symbols of light before they were launched at him like tracer fire. A series of small explosions of stone followed in his wake where he ran.

Handy swung his hammer into the ground and another lightning bolt erupted across the ground before striking at the Archon. The Archon stood where he was, the lightning dissipating uselessly as it thrashed against his protective circle of magical fire. Handy cursed loudly as he pulled himself up and ran on.

The Archon's eyes glowed as he fired a magical blast from his horn. Handy stopped and drew his hammer up, bracing under the impact of the magic which caused his tattered robes to billow and snap in the air. He was forced back a step from the blast, but by the end of it, the Archon was left shouting inarticulate curses while Handy's hammer glowed anew. This time it was no longer crackling with lightning, the magic instead more steady and calm. It hummed gently, and Handy felt a subtle warmth creep up his arms from the new magic the hammer absorbed.

He swung down, but he needn't have bothered, for the swing itself was enough to launch the magic. A diagonal beam of light coursed through the air and crashed against the Archon's shield explosively. Salintorix shouted some spell and again the symbols came to life in the air. They sped off after Handy. Handy panicked and swung rapidly in the air, sending several arcs of light in response.

Strangely, rather than exploding, the symbols were launched back when they connected with the arcs of light, and the Archon yelped in surprise as his own explosive runes crashed into the ground around him and his magical aegis.

Handy wasn't entirely unscathed either. While dissuading the worst of the symbols, a few exploded in the ground next to him, and he was peppered with small stones. More than a few pierced his skin, and he roared in pain as he fell to his knees, his left leg giving out. He winced as he tested it. Yep, he could still move it and bear his weight on it, but God damn did it hurt. He pushed himself up with a limp and looked to where the Archon was, hidden behind the cloud of dust. Handy breathed heavily at this unexpected respite, looking down at his hammer. It still sparked, as some of the lightning magic was still contained within, but whatever this light magic was still glowed the brightest. He looked down, the ground covered with dust, ash, and pieces of changeling armour and weaponry. Did they all just abandon their stuff when the Archon went columbine on them?

He stooped down with some effort and picked up what looked like a clunky crossbow. Its handle was longer than it needed to be, even if the overall device was too small for a human to use comfortably, and the trigger guard was large and looping. He looked it over carefully before looking back up. He could hear the crackle of the magical fire now. He looked to the right and saw the senate hall over a dozen or so metres away alight with flames. His skin crawled.

"I don't know what you think you are, Terror." Handy faced the now exhausted and raspy voice of the Archon. The dust had finally settled to reveal the Archon surrounded by craters, a fiery wall of magic just beyond where he stood. He was completely unharmed, if a little tired.

"Oh come on, give me a fucking chance…" Handy breathed. He eyed the wall of fire which was growing taller. Magic hammer or no magic hammer, Handy wasn't going to go near that.

"But your magic cannot touch me," he preened as Handy looked at him in exasperation. "I studied this from Galaxia herself! No magical weapon can pierce these flames. I am utterly immune from your damned hammer!"

Handy took a few breaths before swallowing the build-up of saliva in his mouth. He glanced down as he reset his footing, favouring his right leg. He looked back up at the Archon and saw the utter confidence in his eyes. He had meant every word.

Handy only hoped he did so literally.

"Fine," he said, lifting the crossbow and balancing it with his hammer hand. He fired.

Being unschooled in the use of the crossbow, the recoil of the device nearly knocked the unprepared Handy off his already unsteady footing.

Alas, the distance was short enough, the target profile large enough, and the Archon caught unawares enough that it mattered not. The bolt of iron sailed through the air and passed through the wall of magical flame nearly unmolested.

The Archon blinked several times after stumbling backwards several steps as the flames died around him, wobbling and looking down, seeing the bolt stick out of his chest. He breathed heavily as the crimson fluid ran down his obsidian dermis. Salintorix looked up at Handy one last time, took a step forward, and collapsed.

Handy let his arm fall down. He stood there for a moment, focusing on his breathing. God, he was tired. Coughing and wiping his face, he looked down in surprise at the blood on his arm. Staring down at his hammer, he resolved to be more careful in the future. Even if that lightning never struck him, being that close to so much raw electrical currents could not have been good for him. He needed to get some blood, and soon. Just in case that did some damage to him internally that—

Handy tumbled to the ground and dropped his weapons as something collided with him from behind. He had turned his back on the Archon. He tried to roll over as something hard slammed into his side, and something cracked. Handy screamed in pain.

"Wretch! Abomination!" the Archon yelled as he tried to trample Handy, the iron bolt still sticking out of his chest, "Do you think I could be felled by something so small!? I will end you!"

Have you ever fought a horse? If so, you had my sympathies. Even a cursory thought experiment would help you realise that the absolute worst thing to happen if you did was being caught under their hooves. This was the position Handy now found himself.

Now, fortunately for Handy, the Archon, while larger than ordinary changelings and indeed slightly larger than Chrysalis, was nowhere near the size of an Earth horse. Well, that and changelings were lighter than they appeared anyway. Handy had a fighting chance. The last time he was knocked over in a fight with a quadruped happened in his early days in Equestria, he ended up with a broken leg. Nobody had time for that shit.

Time for science.

Handy kicked upwards, and the Archon roared in pain as his boot connected with a sensitive portion of his anatomy. Good news—they actually weren't Barbie doll people after all! He just couldn't see them for some reason. In the future, he'd consider that a blessing. Right now, he just needed a moment's breather to turn this around in his favour.

Handy roared in pain as he reached up and grabbed onto the face cage of the Archon's iron crown. Salintorix pressed his hoof against Handy's face to push him away and tried to get off. His horn began to glow. Handy roared with effort and slammed Salintorix’s head against the wall. The horn flickered, he slammed again, and the horn died. Handy slammed again and Salintorix relaxed the pressure he had placed on the human’s skull. Handy threw him off and groaned as he rolled over to try and get back to his feet. He only got to his knees before Salintorix was already once again standing, his face bloodied and furious. He lowered his head and gave a battle cry as he lunged at Handy.

The horn pierced Handy's torso in the side. Handy coughed in surprise, spitting blood up as he was knocked to the ground, while Salintorix struggled to keep on his hooves. Handy was in shock, his hand clamped down on his side. The wound was shallow and the blood was not pouring out, but the pain was immense. Handy frowned at the wound, confused. He should be left dying on the ground right now. He saw the hammer on the ground and reached for it. The Archon charged, but Handy swung around with a roar of effort, and the hammer, in an arc of brilliant light, clashed with Salintorix's head. The changeling crashed into the ground next to Handy, lightning coruscating across his body.

Handy tried to get back to his feet, but a sudden bolt of pain in his side brought him to his knees again. The light faded from the hammer; all that remained was the crackle of lightning. Salintorix recovered once more. God damn it, why wouldn't he just stay down!? Was that crossbow bolt not worrying him at all!? He stumbled over to Handy and raised his hooves to stomp down. Handy fell and rolled over just as he did so. The Archon tried to stomp again but Handy rolled back and leapt, grabbing onto Salintorix's crown and pulling him down, both of them crashing hard against the stone floor.

His fist clasped about the hammer just below its head, and he slammed it into the Archon's face. Again and again and again the blows came, and Salintorix could do nothing but attempt to flail and push Handy away. Handy pushed down against the struggling Archon, forcing himself to his knees. Again and again, he brought his hammer down, snapping and mangling the iron face cage. That thing about his head was protecting him, but not enough. Blow after blow after blow, Handy worked himself into a fury until finally he stopped.

The Archon was still alive.

Handy roared in frustration at the changeling and raised his hammer again, the weapon crackling. He held it there for a moment and looked around. The halls were quiet, the only sound the distant crackling of still burning flames. A gust blew through from the open windows above, and eddies of dust and ash stirred about them. The Archon lay before him, spent, bloodied, and broken. His chest rose and fell weakly, his eyes fluttering, and his legs occasionally spasmed as the remnants of the lightning wracked his body.

The fight was over.

Handy thought about it for a minute, his hand going to his side again. It was still bleeding. He looked at the Archon's horn, most of it covered in his blood.

"What the hell…?" He looked down at his hammer. That magic he had absorbed that the Archon was using… what was it? What the hell did it do to him? More importantly, how long would it last? He elected to stop worrying and do something, lest the answer to that question be ‘not very long.’ He eyed the Archon with contempt for a moment longer, thinking. He then spat on his face and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

"You know what? You're good as dead now anyway," he said, uncaring if the Archon could even hear him as he limped out of the hall. "Have fun with the changelings."

--=--

"Did you think you could get away so easily?" Amethyst snarled as she advanced on Chrysalis, head lowered dangerously and horn aglow. Chrysalis merely grunted in response, her hoof raised to her forehead, and she winced as it brushed where her horn has snapped off. The terrible force of the Archon's magic had sundered it from her brow.

Behind them, both the palace's senate hall burned, and the various leaders of the changelings spilled from the great ziggurat with their entourages. Queen Chrysalis and her younger antagonist were left unnoticed.

"I could have saved your changelings, kept them safe, made them a part of my following. It would have been a better fate than any of the others would have given them after what you did," Amethyst hissed, her magic slamming Chrysalis to the ground. "Everyling knows it was you who foolishly fell prey to your own desires, bringing our entire race another step closer to the Wither!"

She battered the tired queen twice more with magical blasts.

"More holes in our bodies, more love needed in order for foals to survive long enough to replace their parents." She was upon Chrysalis now and gave her a swift kick with her foreleg. "And now? I'll be lucky if I live long enough to see the turn of the next century. They scorned my mother for having me, rightly so, and I knew the same scorn would be turned upon you. I wanted to help you!"

"You… wanted to control them…"

"Them!?" Amethyst laughed. "You had more than one? Oh that is just fantastic. Where are they, Chrysalis!? Tell me, and I can at least promise you I'll keep them safe, unlike the rest of your changelings!"

"You'll not get anything from me… whelp…" Chrysalis sneered, "and I don't need your help!"

"Oh that’s right, you've got that abomination of yours. A fine job it's done, getting you this far, but that won't be enough to help you now!" Just as she said that, a tremendous bang could be heard on the heavy stone doors leading to the courtyard, coming from the inside of the palace. A second blow to the doors, this one resounding with a thunderclap, shaking the heavy stone doors and cracking them. Amethyst whirled back around to stare wide-eyed at the injured Chrysalis. She smirked as she struggled to regain her hooves.

"As… you were saying… child?" Chrysalis teased. Another tremendous boom and the doors looked as if they would collapse. Amethyst's horn glowed green and slowly, changeling fire washed over her body as it grew slightly taller, lither. The soft, gentle purples of her mane and tail elongated, turning teal. Her wings thinned and extended and the gird about her back and waist turned green as her blue eyes changed to match Chrysalis'. As a finishing touch, her very horn seemed to disappear, matching the broken one on Chrysalis' own forehead.

"We'll see…" she said in Chrysalis' voice. The queen was shocked with the audacity of being impersonated. Had she the strength to, she would have beaten the impersonator senseless for the insult. As it was, she barely had time to stammer before the doors burst forward, sending scattered intricately carved rock and wood fragments all over the courtyard and a cloud of dust billowing forth from the entrance.

Handy walked forward, his ramshackle robes of cloth torn and bloodied, his face dirtied and pale from where the dust stuck to his skin and discoloured his hair. In one hand was the hammer that might as well be a part of him. It seemed to be crackling with energy. In the other he held a cumbersome crossbow, looted from some unfortunate changeling. Its grip was obviously ill-suited for his hands.

"Quick, kill her!" Amethyst ordered. Chrysalis smirked at her then looked towards Handy again in full confidence that he would not fall for such a ploy.

Then her smirk fell.

Handy had stopped ten feet from the two of them, looking between them both, as if he wasn't sure which one was which. But that was ridiculous, he couldn't harm her—he had to know that. The geas should be able to let him know which was the real Chrysalis by just thinking abo— Then she gasped.

"Oh no— Heartless! Don't shoot, it’s me! She's the imposter!" Handy looked towards Chrysalis.

"This wretch is a pathetic queen of a lesser kindred impersonating me!" Amethyst proclaimed. Handy looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't listen to her, she's the imposter!"

"Shoot her now, human!"

"Handy, don't you dare—!"

"What are you waiting for!?"

Handy just looked back and forth between the two of them, blinking. That was the problem with not having the geas; he had no easy way to tell which was which. They were both bleeding from various cuts, which was useful, but Handy had never tasted Chrysalis' blood specifically, so he had no clue which was which by smell alone. His foot kicked against something and, looking down, he spotted a long, curved black spike that looked suspiciously like Chrysalis' horn. He looked up. Both the Chrysalises were missing their horns.

"Fucking changelings…" he breathed as he knelt down, putting the spent crossbow to the side and picking up the broken horn, studying it before looking up at the two injured changelings. The fire of the senate hall was burning furiously enough that its light illuminated the courtyard entirely and, thankfully, was far enough away from Handy that he didn't feel the need to run in fear, no matter how much his skin was crawling at even this remote proximity. Both the Chrysalises looked bedraggled, hurt, tired, and both of them were staring at him with desperate eyes. Only one of them was the actual Chrysalis he was here for, and the other likely had some troops of their own out looking for her. He didn't have much time to get things sorted before they had company.

He pocketed the horn and came to a decision.

"Right, there is one way to settle this," Handy began. "You recall the night in the forest, right?"

"Wha— oh, of course!" Chrysalis began, catching on.

"How could I forget?" Amethyst echoed.

"Do you remember what we did?"

"Vividly," Chrysalis said, glaring at Amethyst, who smiled.

"It was a night to remember," Amethyst said, matching her tone with Chrysalis' own. Handy turned to her. He held the war hammer in both hands as he calmly walked towards them.

"That night, you said I was like you changelings, that we have so much in common."

"I remember," Chrysalis said evenly.

"But we do!" Amethyst replied. Handy smiled lightly at her before turning and frowning at Chrysalis. The queen backed up slightly, fearing she had made some kind of mistake.

"And you remember what we did together of course," he said, having reached them and turning to Chrysalis with his back to Amethyst, his hammer slightly raised. "The secret we shared?"

"I-I—" Chrysalis stammered, her eyes searching the Heartless' face. This had to be a trick.

"I hope to share it again~" Amethyst cooed softly, walking closer, eager to see him finish Chrysalis on his own. Such delicious irony! Handy's grin revealed his fangs to Chrysalis.

"I'm glad to hear it."

Amethyst barely had time to register her mistake before the human had rounded on her and his fangs had sunk deep into her neck. The twin explosions of pain flared from the dermis of her neck before slowly dulling. She stuttered and shouted, trying to yank herself away but found herself trapped as the human's arms clasped about her like a vice. She flailed at him with her forehooves to no avail. She tried to use her magic but had to change back to allow her to use her horn. As she desperately tried to shift back, the changeling magic washing across her skin, she felt her sense dull. Her vision swam as the pain lessened. She felt the tug as the blood in her veins was forcibly drained from her with each heartbeat, but it did not alarm her. A pleasant sensation rippled through her consciousness, letting her feel as if she were wrapped in warm clouds and floating upon air. It left her weak limbed and listless, with hardly the strength to hold her body up. Her rear legs collapsed from under her until only her upper body remained held up in the human's grasp.

And as suddenly as it had began, it stopped. Her neck suddenly felt cold as the fangs left it. She was barely aware of the blurred reality around her and her laboured breathing as her head was gently laid onto the hard ground. It was strange—she could barely keep her heavy eyelids open, and for all the hardness of the stone beneath her, it felt strangely comfortable.

Chrysalis wasn't so fortunate as to have been left unaware of their condition. She had a front row seat to the full splendour of a vampiric feeding… and the strange effect it had on both its victims and upon the human who fed on them. The human seemed more vital, more alive somehow as his victim grew less, and she was struck by the sudden power and intensity behind his gaze when he finally turned away from Amethyst and looked at her. He paused for a moment before slowly casting his gaze about the palace courtyard, to the burning senate hall far above near its summit, to the chaos of the various changeling entourages disappearing to various sections of the city with their fleeing leaders. His gaze lingered on the briefly reanimated draconic skeleton, which stood tall, its bones fused together by Crimson's old magic. Had it had the remains of its wings, no doubt its wingspan would've stretched nearly the breadth of the entire upper city.

Chrysalis wasn't concerned about that. She was concerned with how his eyes appeared to be glowing and leaving a trail of light in the air as he moved. He turned back to her.

"Is this it?" he asked, gesturing out to the city, his voice sounding odd, as if resonating with a strange authority. A faint buzz could be heard as changelings began flying towards the palatial ziggurat. Handy did not seem disturbed by it, so Chrysalis could only hope that it meant it was her changelings that were approaching. "Are we done here?"

Chrysalis looked down at the unconscious Amethyst and pondered for a moment. She didn't say anything but merely nodded to Handy.

"Fine," Handy replied levelly and without emotion, before turning and walking off back towards the entrance he had knocked down, the hammer crackling in his grip. "Get your affairs in order. I will exact my fair recompense before I take my leave of this city.”

He paused long enough to say:

“And God help you if you try to cross me on this."

--=--

A lot of things happened pretty much all at once, though Handy was not privy to the details of most of it.

Turned out the downfall of the Archon wasn't the only major upset that happened in Lepidopolis that day. Chrysalis' little revolution had inspired some of the smaller, independent sidhes to swear allegiance directly. That only caused alarm in the other independent families, who had been counting on the raw numbers of unaffiliated sidhes as security for each one individually from the bigger players. This in turn caused them to swear allegiance to this potentate or another, swelling ranks.

While some were strengthened, others were weakened. The Commune, for example, was the single largest colony present in the city. The downside of breaking down familial loyalties was that the second the single leader showed weakness, defection was very likely. After all, what loyalty do they have to you beyond your own charisma? Individuals fled the Commune in droves after the embarrassment of its petty ruler who fled the palace in a hurry and humiliated himself in his craven antics, reducing the colony by over half of its changelings.

Alliances shifted, conspiracies were shattered and made anew, treason, surprise, and defection ruled the city for the next coming days in a riot of paranoia and suspicion. The changelings loved every minute of it. While Chrysalis controlled the palace, her power was not absolute. Oh, she certainly was now the power to be reckoned with, but she was far from undisputed. The other potentates, while they bickered and politicked, controlled entire districts of the city, and the lower cities were almost entirely beyond Chrysalis' personal control.

The changelings were a long way away from the near centralized and co-operating power bloc they had been under the Archon's machinations. With Chrysalis' efforts to mitigate the ensuing chaos, by virtue of her changelings being the first ones on the scene after the fact, they had avoided war in the streets.

Handy coughed into his fist as he looked out the window of one of the innumerable rooms in the palatial ziggurat. He had seen his eyes. They were his own but… He shook his head. No matter how often he saw it, it still disturbed him how his eyes glowed like that. Hopefully it would stop soon.

"Master?" He turned to see Crimson enter the room. "Master, you should be resting."

"I'm fine," Handy insisted. Crimson eyed the patch covering the scar in his side. Handy brought his ruined robes tighter about him to hide it. "It's fine, Crimson, it'll only leave a scar."

"Master, you should really—"

"I said it’s fine," he said, more forcefully than he intended. Crimson's ears splayed back on her head.

"Leave him be, Crimson," Jacques said gently from the corner where he sat at a table, studying his hat. He smiled at her when she turned to give him a harsh glare but then immediately turned to give a look of concern as Handy coughed again. "He'll be alright, won't you, Handy?"

He didn't reply. Crimson looked unsure, and there was an awkward moment’s silence.

"Go on, Crimson, I'll be alright," he said at last. Crimson reluctantly left the room, and the two remained in silence for some time. Handy finally broke it. "So…"

"Yeah." Jacques left the hat on the table alone and tapped a hoof on the table awkwardly. Silence reigned once more.

Eventually it was broken by a snort.

"How uh… How was the water?" Handy asked. Jacques slunk back down in his chair further. "Have uh… Have a nice dip? Refreshing?" Jacques rubbed his face with his hooves, groaning. "I mean, I only noticed you on the way out, but I've got to say, never thought about diving into a fountain like that."

"Oh bugger off…" Jacques said as Handy began chuckling. The stampede out of the senate building had been a disorderly affair to put it mildly. In the chaos, Jacques’ tail had been set alight. In his panic, he had tried to head towards the nearest source of water, which happened to be a fountain. He leapt into it headfirst, however, and basically brained himself on the stonework. He got the fire out, though, which was why he wasn't wearing his hat. The unsightly bump was sensitive enough that he could barely stand his grey mane hair touching it.

Handy coughed from his laughter and made his way over to a nearby chair and sat himself down.

"…You okay?" Jacques asked, concerned. Handy looked over at him.

"Are you sure you care enough to hear the answer?" Handy challenged. Jacques looked away, chided. He took in a breath.

"Look, Handy. I know what I said, and I won't lie, I meant every word… at the time."

"At the time?" Handy asked without looking around.

"…Look, you came back, alright? Do you even realise what you've done?"

"Not yet, but I am sure I'll figure it out later," Handy said cryptically before adding, "I always do one way or another…"

"Without you, I had no idea how I was going to help Thorax."

"…But you were going to try anyway?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"…After what you said to me back then, I'm not sure any explanation I could give you would be satisfactory."

"No it wouldn't, but it'd still be a reason."

"Well… I just." Jacques tapped his hoof again. "I… think I love her."

"Jacques, you love every woman you come across."

"I'm serious, Handy."

"I'm sure," Handy remained unconvinced. "Remember what I said about her having her fangs in you? Have you given any consideration to that? She is a changeling, and you are not that stupid, no matter how you've been acting lately. Do not lie to me and say you have not thought about it."

"…I have given it some consideration."

"And?" Jacques did not reply, but he stared off into a space in the wall contemplatively. Handy left him in silence as he continued to rest. His rib hurt from where the Archon had broken it. His newest scar in his side still burned and ached when he moved. His arm still stung from the wooden splinters that had pierced it when the door had exploded back in the bedroom. His leg still stung from the stones that had pelted and torn at his skin in the senate hall. He was healed but he was still hurting.

"I'm sorry," Jacques voiced at last. It wasn't an answer to his question, though he knew what it was for. Handy eyed him out of the corner of his eye, thinking, pondering if the gesture was worth it. He then sighed.

"Yeah. Me too."

The door opened, and both looked up. Who should enter but the woman of the hour herself, flanked by two loyalist guards of course. Chrysalis strode through the tall doorway, regal and proud, even if she had more than a few gashes that had been bandaged. And the effect was mitigated by the terribly obvious missing horn, but she seemed undeterred. She smiled warmly and her eyes had their typical, calculating cast about them. Handy had seen through that confident façade enough times to not be taken in by it, however.

"Heartless~" Chrysalis all but cooed. She cast a disparaging look to Jacques in the corner, who merely waved in response, his own annoying cocky smile about his face. Chrysalis narrowed her eyes before looking back at Handy. That was part of the reason why he let Jacques stay in the room with him, precisely because he reasoned it irked the queen to no end to have several non-changelings running around, other than Handy, that weren't on the menu. "Perhaps we could negotiate alone?"

"I am quite comfortable with my company as it is, Chrysalis," Handy said, looking at her levelly. Chrysalis maintained her smile.

"Leave us," she ordered. The two guards hesitated, and Handy turned his glowing eyes on them. Chrysalis turned her head and raised an eyebrow. The pair left. "Now, Heartless, can you not do me the same courtesy and have your… friend leave us for but a moment?"

"No," Handy said, sitting right where he was. Chrysalis stood silently for a moment before continuing on, not letting her smile fade.

"Very well, I have come to give you my thanks personally. Words cannot express how grateful I am."

"You're welcome. I'll take payment in gold and the means to transport them, if you'd be so kind." Chrysalis started and frowned.

"Now Handy—"

"Now nothing, queen," Handy cut her off. "I owed you nothing, suffered more than I have warranted, and have given you far more than you ever deserved out of my own choosing. I warned you out on the courtyard when the top of your palace burned and your people hid in their beds that you had better not cross me. I will brook no deception, nor honeyed words, nor shirking of your debt. Pay unto me my due recompense or I will inflict such a horror upon you that your descendants will shudder and wince from a pain and a fear they know not the name of. You have seen what I am capable of. Do not test me, Chrysalis."

That he had said this in a calm and level voice was, perhaps, the most shocking thing. But he had spoken loudly and clearly. Jacques sat there and turned to look at the silenced queen of the changelings. Her mouth was slightly agape, as if she could never imagine being spoken to like that. Perhaps she never had been.

It took him some time to notice the door behind her was still open and those outside had heard what was said, and doubtless they would note their queen's long silence.

"Very well," Chrysalis said at last, taking time to regain her composure. She glanced behind her, and whatever changelings had been lingering in the hall made themselves scarce. She noted with concern that she didn't recognise some of the servants. Word would spread of this. "I will send for you once the arrangements have been made. At that, I would request one last talk with you. In private, if you would."

Handy stared at her levelly for a time, then he waved his hand to give his assent and turned away. Chrysalis retreated from the room, and Jacques managed to catch the look on her face. It was not one of fury as one might expect. The door closed shut with the grating sound of stone on stone.

"Was… Was that wise?"

"Was what wise?" Handy asked, his gaze lingering on his half-reflection in the glass. The glow of his eyes did not distort them entirely, and curiously enough it only seemed that the dull colours of his irises were illuminated alone.

"Threatening her like that? Here, in your condition?"

"Chrysalis has made a habit of thinking little of me and paying for it. She'll take me at my word."

"And, just for the sake of argument, if she did turn against you and you had to, you know, make good upon your word?"

"…Then yes, it would have been very unwise of me to say what I just did. But she won't."

"How can you be sure?"

"After what I've done for her? What this city and all these changelings must think of me?" Handy snorted. "You've known me long enough to know I revel in the image I project, however much it is misinterpreted by others. Chrysalis is a smart girl when she wants to be. She won't waste such a useful image as being a queen that can call upon the Heartless to overturn the entire city."

"I assume she can't, in fact, do just that?"

"No. But no one else needs to know that now, do they?"

"And if she is overthrown again?"

"Tough shit."

"Hmm," Jacques hummed thoughtfully. "You know, Handy, I don't think your approach is that wise. Seems your little mythmaking has got you into more trouble that way."

"Perhaps," Handy conceded, before mumbling to himself, "but it’s the only thing keeping me safe."

--=--

Thorax ambled after her liege, carefully eyeing the passing servants as they gazed upon the damage of the palace's interior and the removal of the chitin plate from where it was not needed. She withheld a snort at the thought. Her queen had a point that noling would ever need to armour the interior of their home, but then again, no one really intended to account for a teleporting human with a war hammer and a chip on his withers destroying the palace from the inside.

Seeing as her ruler was in no mood for such frivolities, she kept such a note to herself. She had seen that dark mood before; the one she used when calculating a suitable revenge or punishment. What was different had been the slow transformation from a look of shocked silence into this familiar façade. She thought of what might happen if she did nothing to intercede before whatever her queen was thinking could come to fruition. Especially since Thorax was certain more than a few of these servants weren't entirely of Chrysalis' kindred, and already whispers would be circulating from the exchange she had with Handy not too long ago.

"Highness, I know he is a threat, but you cannot be seen by your peers—"

"Peers!?" Chrysalis snapped. Thorax abased herself and bowed, membranes closing over her eyes.

"The other rulers," she corrected, "cannot be thought to have seen you weak before the human. I know I appeal for clemency for… admittedly selfish reasons, but—"

"Oh, I won't be seen as weak before the Heartless, my little changeling," Chrysalis said, smiling down at her agent before continuing on with Thorax at her heels. "They'll see things for what they really are. Before this night is through, the Terror of Lepidopolis will be seen running in terror from me!"

--=--

Chrysalis strode into her chambers, closing the newly fashioned doors behind herself and Handy with her magic with an unnecessary amount of force. A subtle wave of greenish magic washed over the walls and ceiling of the room before it came to a point on the far wall and disappeared. The room was a mess, and not entirely the fault of Chrysalis' assailants. She didn't speak, didn't look at him, merely striding around the room to where the crystal sphere was held in its antique, wooden cradle.

She placed a hoof on the sphere, letting a gentle smile cross her face before frowning slightly as she traced a hairline crack that split its surface. The price of sacrificing the amulet had been hard on the arcane creation, and yet the interior of the device pulsed and swirled, a cloudy miasma contained within.

Handy did not know what secrets it held, but he was certain he did not want to know. He just wanted the queen to say her piece and be done with it. However, she just stood there in the darkness, framed in the white light of the sphere before her, casting a long, lithe shadow on the room behind her.

"I do not understand you," she said at last. Handy looked at her, but she did not turn around. "I offered you riches but you turned me down. You come back, and not only do you free me, you put me back on my throne. Then you ask for riches in return. Why?"

"I like money," Handy said simply.

"But not enough to take me up on my offer the first time?" Chrysalis asked slyly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I couldn't have gotten you out of that cell if I wanted to," Handy covered. "I had to wait until you were already out."

"And how could you be sure?"

"I couldn't."

"So you gambled?"

"I've been doing a lot of that lately." She harrumphed at that and looked back down at the viewing sphere, pregnant with arcane secrets.

"I suppose that makes two of us." She moved away from the sphere in the corner of the room. She took her crown off and laid it on one of the few stands that had not been thrown aside in whatever turmoil had happened in this room when she was captured. Miraculously, that stand had survived the onslaught when Handy had invoked the ire of a changeling battlemage too. She then turned and gave Handy a stern glare, which Handy met stalwartly. She bore her teeth.

"By all rights, I should have you strung up," she proclaimed, taking a step forwards before passing Handy by on his left.

"For saving you?" Handy asked, his voice level, giving nothing away.

"For violating me!" she hissed.

"I haven't so much as touched you… Well, not counting the horn." Chrysalis paused briefly and touched where her once magnificent horn had been broken off, hissing at the painful memory.

"It'll grow back."

"I'll be keeping the broken one then," Handy said, causing the queen to round on him, her face trembling with restrained outrage. To her credit, she held her outburst and continued pacing around him. Handy was getting amused by this point, having clearly offset the vaunted queen.

"I meant… the forest," she admitted with a tone in her voice Handy couldn't quite discern.

"You brought that upon yourself," Handy said without sympathy.

"And my alternatives?" she countered. "You were beyond convenient when my gambit at that griffon festival failed."

"You know, I am willing to work for money. You could've at least tried offering me fair recompense."

"That would've never worked!"

"It worked out for you now, didn't it?" Chrysalis paused and pointed her raised hoof at Handy, ready to rebuke him. She caught herself, then looked down and brought the hoof to her chin thoughtfully. She shook her head and made a frustrated noise and continued her pacing. Handy followed her with his eyes until she passed behind him and came back into sight again.

"You… dared…" she managed.

"I did."

"You dared, you… you bit me!"

"I bit Thorax."

"You have insulted and assaulted me, humiliated me, tossed me around as I was some petty doll! I should have you swarmed and carried off to be dumped into the deepest pit!" she stormed, building up her indignation. Handy let her fume without comment. She held no threat over him at this moment, otherwise she would've made good on it, not taken him into a room and rebuked him privately. What was she going to do? Shapeshift into a scary form and make faces at him? He was shaking in his boots.

"And yet…"

--=--

The two guards who stood at either side of the entrance to their queen's chambers had been elated to have been released from their captivity and had joyfully returned to their rightful positions outside their queen's apartments.

After five minutes, the novelty wore off, and they suddenly realised they were back to the monotonous humdrum of guard duty once more. Yay.

The pair, with only one of them having recovered something resembling piecemeal armour, stared blankly ahead. The only remotely entertaining thing to pay attention to was whatever the hell was being argued about in the drawing room down the hall where Chrysalis had summoned several mages and the Heartless' companions were located.

And then the Expensive brick sang the song of its people.

The pair yelped and jumped, levelling their spears at the pile of belongings that the Heartless left on a nearby table, along with his weapons before entering the chambers.

The two changelings blinked at the shining magical brick. They looked at each other and shrugged.

--=--

"And yet I find myself in your debt," Chrysalis said, her face appearing confused. "I owe you my life once more."

"And I plan on receiving recompense again." She chuckled dryly and gave him a sideways glance as she stood in front of him. She smiled lightly before continuing circling him, this time at a more sedate pace.

"Oh I know you will~"

'Here it comes,' Handy thought. 'I recognise that tone of voice. She's up to something. Whatever it is, woman, you're not getting it out of me. I am done being manipulated.'

"I did promise to give you whatever you wanted didn't I? Mmmm, yes I suppose thrice your weight in gold and gems are a fair trade for life and liberty. Oh, and I suppose a little extra. I do recall promising to pay you after you honoured your end of the geas, so why not add a little bit more to your little pile of treasure?"

"And the means to transport them," Handy said warningly. She chuckled.

"Oh of course, of course. Where would be the fun otherwise? No more amulet after all—you'd hardly accept another one. And you broke my favourite toy~" she pouted, casting a hoof dramatically to the orb in the corner. "There's no fun in making you trek across the Badlands if I can't see a show after all."

Now that made Handy scowl, and she laughed airily in response. She continued her pace and swatted him on the chest with her tail as she passed.

"Oh, you know it is in jest. I think we can put all that behind us now, can't we?"

"No."

"So serious~" she said silkily, slowing her pace, taking more deliberate steps, "and yet I thought you said you keep your word."

"I generally do."

"Generally," she purred as she paused behind him, bending over and whispering into his ear. "So why did you back on your word to help me then, hmm?"

"Enough of this!" Handy shouted, stepping away. "Look, Chrysalis, you want something, we both know it. Out with it so I can deny it and finally be rid of this place and you. What more do you want?"

"Oh, just a little something I am curious about…" She walked past him and sauntered towards the magical seeing sphere, "and something you might be curious about as well."

"What are you getting at?"

"That night when you… well, ceased to be whatever humans were and became what you are," she began, lovingly wiping her hoof upon the surface of her sphere. She looked back at Handy. "How well do you remember it?"

"Vividly," Handy said, his patience strained.

"Truly? Every detail?"

"I find it distinctly hard to forget the night when the thestrals ruined my life." She stayed silent at that, merely looking down at the cradled sphere and letting out a contemplative 'hmm'.

"I could let you see it, you know, through your own eyes. The sphere stores what is seen by the amulet and those that wear it. You would not believe the secrets that are held here."

"Is that it? You want to show me the worst night of my life!?"

"Only if you want to, Heartless~"

"Why on earth would I ever want that!?"

"Why indeed…" she said, sighing and relenting. She spun the sphere idly with her hoof and walked back over to Handy. "I will not force you to do anything you do not wish to, Heartless."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You have my word. Never again will I attempt to coerce you into anything." She chuckled lightly. Once more she began circling him, playfully swatting him once on the arm with her tail. This was getting tiresome. "The question is: what do you want to do?"

"I don't understand; what do you mean? I want to leave."

"Oh, THAT is well understood." Handy suddenly began to notice she was circling disturbingly close to him now, and that he had been unconsciously stepping back to avoid her brushing against him. "But I mean right now."

"Right now?"

"Yes. I said I was curious, Handy," she said, stopping in front of him. "How could I not be after all this?"

"Curious about… what?" Handy asked, his face betraying his confusion. What the hell was she curious about? Old magic? Like hell was he going to be giving her anything about that! "I can't tell you if I don't know what you want."

"You will~" she said cryptically, her voice sing-song. She moved closer, and Handy backed up a step...

...And promptly bumped up against a dresser. He looked down in surprise, his brain whirling.

"Chrysalis, I—"

"Shhh…" she cooed, lifting her forelegs and placing them either side of him on the dresser he was leaning against.

Handy looked to where her hooves were and the closeness of her face, and the look in her eyes as they peered deep into his with a frightening intensity. He was so taken aback that he actually stuttered for a moment. As he realised he was staring her in the eyes for a second too long, a thought came to him. Handy's mind raced, and only now did it dredge up a terrifying possibility he had not considered remotely possible. With dawning horror, the comprehension crept across his face, and a wide, triumphant smile spread across her own, clearly revelling that she had got through to him, all without having to use an ounce of magic to boot!

'Oh God,' the thought echoed in his panicking mind which had just processed the subtext. 'Oh God, I completely misread the situation. This can not be happening, oh God, oh God!'

"W-Wait…"

"Why?" she asked, leaning closer, Handy respectively leaning back.

"I-I can't, this is not, I mean, how can you—"

"You can worry about that later~"

"I-I should g-go."

"Plenty of time for that. What's the rush?"

"This isn't right."

"I am a changeling."

'Fuck.' He placed both hands on her withers to push her off. She merely pushed forward harder. He couldn't risk hurting her without bringing hell down upon his head, but this was… Fuck all of this! He needed an excuse; he needed to scare her off; he needed to end this before- God, no. His mind raced, and he thought up the one thing that might defuse this situation before it escalated into—'No, no, no brain, you are NOT going there.'

"I…" he swallowed. "I'll bite."

To his horror, she laughed merrily, raising a hoof to her muzzle to hold it. She held it folded before her demurely as she looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as she fluttered her lashes. And then she spoke two words that sent chills down his spine.

"I know~"

--=--

The two guards had gathered around the table with the human's things upon it, with another having joined them, pausing on his patrols. One of them lifted the brick and bounced it against the table, trying to make it sing again.

"So is it pony-made or… or what?" one asked. Another opened its mouth as if to reply when the grand doors to their queen's apartments burst open, and the Heartless one himself barrelled out, wide-eyed and in a hurry to be somewhere. The guards watched the human almost slip as it skidded to a halt and scrambled over towards them. They scattered with a shout of alarm.

"OUTOFMYWAYYOUBASTARDSGOTTAGETTHINGSOUTHERENOWMOVE!" the human shouted all at once, all but grabbing the entire table in one arm and sweeping it into the mouth of his largest pack without care. He threw it over his shoulders and lifted the hammer and the smaller bags. Handy paused to spare half a glance at the darkened apartments from which he had just emerged. The terror on his face was unmistakable to the changelings who saw it. Then he booked it, disappearing down the hallway and into the room being prepared by the changeling mages at their queen's instructions.

Now one might be wondering why the guards took no action when they saw a living nightmare charge forth from their liege's private quarters like a bat out of Hell, and ordinarily you would be right.

Ordinarily, most people's lieges weren't Chrysalis.

Whose peals of cackling laughter could be heard resonating throughout the palace.

They thought better than to question it.

--=--

Crimson watched the changeling mages work in fascination. She had never studied or learned anything about changeling arcanomancy, though she supposed she was hardly alone in that. It was still fascinating to watch them work. It seemed to be a strange, archaic fusion of ancient wild magical practices before the dawn of the crystalline method and the Zebrican ‘magic of the form and of movement'. Though that wasn't right either; nothing about how the mages moved as they circled the growing runic contraption between them bore the remotest similarity to the gentle, graceful movements of the zebras.

It was too mechanical, halting, and they all moved in unison, as if with one mind. It was eerie to behold, even for her. The dutiful scholar in her wished to ask pointed questions, but she knew this was neither the place nor the time. Changelings placed an almost religious reverence on secrets. She doubted they'd appreciate her querying into the mysteries of their craft.

She'd certainly reciprocate had their roles reversed.

"Ahem." Crimson turned and found Thorax had approached from behind. She regarded her one-time doppelganger coolly.

"Yes?" she said tersely. Thorax looked at her for a moment, retracted the membranes covering her eyes, and sucked in a breath.

"Sorry."

Crimson blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I… feel the need to… apologise," Thorax managed, casting a glance back to Jacques who was quietly waiting beside one of the hefty little bags of treasure by the wall. He was sat on his haunches with hat drawn over his face as if dozing. Thorax knew better—she could feel him snickering. She growled under her breath and pushed on. "And… I understand that everything I… we… my queen put you both through was harrowing."

"Yes, that is certainly an adjective."

“...Look, I’m only here because he,” she pointed to Jacques, “is making me do this.”

“And I am only here because you brought my m— Handy here,” Crimson replied. “We all do things we don’t want to do.”

Thorax gritted her teeth.

“I am trying. To be nice.”

“I’m not.” Thorax and Crimson stared at each other for a long moment before Thorax turned away.

"Glad we could come to an understanding," she muttered before making her way over to Jacques. He lifted his head and asked her something, to which she replied with a cuff over the ear and a yelp of protest from the stallion. Crimson turned away and watched the mages do their work, occasionally eyeing the strange, iron-bound contraption that took up most of the space in the room. It was like a cart made with stone slates, like everything else in this city, held together by simple iron bindings, hiding the treasures beneath.

Its top was covered by a tarp and fastened to the stone sides with what looked like nails. The entire thing rested upon a hardened metal axis that supported its weight across four wheels made from a wood she was unfamiliar with. She felt the same strange thrum of magic flowing through it that seemed characteristic of changeling magic.

There had to be a reason why changelings used emotional energy to fuel their magic, why they needed to draw on other sources of magic for their more intricate spells, such as the mages before her. It was a question that would have to wait for another time, because right as the thoughts came to her, Handy had barged into the room.

"Okay, time to go!" he said, his eyes wild and breathing heavily. "Crimson? Good. Is that the payment? Excellent! No time like the present! Where's the talking baguette?"

"Que?" Handy rounded on the swordsstallion. His hands clasped about his shoulders. "W-Wha—?"

"Baguette acquired!" He yanked the pony from where he had been sitting and, whirling around, he threw the bamboozled Jacquesto where he just skirted before entering the magic circle with the glowing, convulsing vortex of white-bluish energy in its centre. "Is that thing ready yet?"

"Uhm…" One of the changeling mages paused, eyeing the portal and looking to his fellows. "Y-YYeesss?" he said hopefully to the tall, living embodiment of nothingness before him.

"Excellent! Jacques, move it. You first."

"Wait, I didn't get to say goodbye!"

"Jacques says goodbye," Handy said.

"I heard," Thorax replied, amused by all accounts. "I doubt this is the last ti—"

"Crying shame. Move it, Jacques!"

"Wait! My pa-ACK!" Jacques had the entire sack of gold tossed at him. He just grabbed hold of it before he was thrown bodily into the vortex and disappeared in a flash of light. Handy tossed his gathered belongings into the portal after him.

"Master, what’s wrong? Why are you—"

"No time to explain. The faster we move, the faster we leave this place behind, and the world becomes a more glorious place free of things I'd rather not think about, haha! Is this thing on wheels? Yes? Okay, good." And with that, Handy put his weight behind the stone cart. To Crimson's surprise, it moved rather easily despite the weight bearing it down. It seemed Chrysalis had been good on her word when it came to being able to transport it, so long as they kept to the hardened ground of the Badlands and avoided sand. She looked back into the corridor from which Handy had emerged and considered his alarmed state.

"You go ahead, Master. I'll be right there."

"Wh-What?" Handy asked. Just as he did so, the cart's foremost wheel crossed the threshold of the magical circle and its foremost edge touched the vortex. The entire contraption disappeared in a flash. Handy stumbled forth, with nothing left holding up his weight he was thrown off balance, and soon, he too disappeared in a flash of light. Crimson turned and walked through the door.

"And where do you think you're going?" Thorax challenged. Crimson stopped and looked at her, before smiling brightly.

"Oh, just to have a chat. I need to tell your queen something about that dragon I enchanted."

--=--

Chrysalis was pouring herself a glass. A glass of what, Crimson wasn't sure, but it certainly smelled inviting.

She sniffed it before swirling it with her hooves while facing the window looking out upon the city below. The ruins of her apartment did not seem to bother her all that much, given the amused look on her face and the occasionally suppressed chuckle. Crimson looked back. The door was closed after the guards had stepped aside to let her in. They likely heard what she did to the last guards who tried to block her way, and Thorax had assured them she would not harm the queen.

Well, she wouldn't now, considering the trouble her master had went to keep her alive and hale. It was certainly possible those good graces wouldn't last.

Crimson intended to remind the good queen of that.

"Dragon bones are exceedingly rare," she said easily, levitating one of the stolen pieces of broken bone she had under her cloak. Chrysalis turned around, evidently amused by the pony's presence.

"Ah, Crimson Shade I believe it was? Have you not yet followed your master off to the ends of the earth?"

"So valued for their unprecedented worth to magical inquiry, in potion magic, medicine, alchemy, rune-crafting, artefact-casting, enchantment and ninety three other disciplines. Yet dragons are so incredibly rare outside of their lands, and nopony has ever had access to their remains for long," Crimson continued unabated, whipping the chunk of bone held before her with a hoof before looking up.

"What are you getting at, little pony? And I don't believe I gave permission for you to confiscate any of that dragon's corpse."

"In fact, dragons are so innately magical that questions arise as to whether they count as physical creatures at all. A foolish notion, but one that reappears in the more esoteric circles of academic study… such as mine." Crimson’s gaze never once left the changeling queen

"What are you—?"

"In fact, it was amazing to discover that, in my own humble field, the laws of sympathetic magic may apply in ways as yet unforeseen. All that is needed is one highly magical artefact that has an intricate, implicit connection with another being, and one can create a bridge between the two." She placed the bone beneath her cloak again. The magic encapsulating her horn did not diminish and instead changed from a scarlet red to a vile green. Her eyes began glowing softly until their distinguishing features could no longer be seen. "I can return here whenever I want, Chrysalis. You cannot remove every fragment or particle of bone dust from this city. Not everywhere—I have seen to that. Threaten my master in any way again, and I will do far worse than simply scare your people.

“Am I understood?"

--=--

They waited patiently until Crimson had materialised in the air before them. She walked sedately over to the waiting pair who were apparently discussing where to go.

"The mages said we're near the western border."

"Which western border?"

"I assume the Badlands."

"So we're close to the eastern border of Equestria?"

"We're close to the eastern border of Eastern Equestria."

"Then what's to the north?"

"…The southern border of Equestria."

"Give me that map!"

"What’s wrong?" Crimson asked as she approached them.

"Nothing, Crimson, we're just trying to figure out where we are," Handy said, studying the map, which wasn't particularly helpful. The sun was low in the sky, which had the benefit of not being as hot, but it meant the ungodly cold night was on its way. Winter in a desert was not a fun experience. "We have absolutely no idea where we are."

"Actually, we're about two miles from the Buckingshire trading post." Both of them looked up at her.

"How do you know?" Jacques asked. Crimson pointed. There was a crossroads that went in three directions just on the far side of the stone cart, made of hard packed earth worn white from travel. It had clearly been frequented often from other settlements. At the crossroads stood a signpost, bleached white from the sun and, comically, had the skull of some four-eyed badlander animal perched on its summit. One of the signs indeed pointed to the road going off to their left, indicating the direction of the trading post.

"…Well I'll be damned," Handy breathed, "she actually kept her word. Looks like we won't be needing even half of the water we brought."

"Speak for yourself, mon ami," Jacques said, opening a canteen and downing half of its contents, releasing it from his muzzle with a satisfied 'aah'. "I am parched."

"You? I would've thought you had your fill of water today." Jacques shot him a look at his teasing.

"So, what was that back there? You seemed more than a little perturbed when you got back." Handy's smile dropped as he turned to pack away his things onto the cart.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh, I am sure," Jacques said, smiling teasingly, sensing he had something to needle Handy back with, "but it is such a long way to Griffonia, and traveling with Whirlwind has made me fond of stories. Perhaps you'll share that later, no?"

"Hmph," Handy grunted, finally placing his packs securely on top of the tarp along with Jacques’ sack. He tossed a harness at the stallion.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

"Put it on. You're pulling." Jacques let out a moan.

"You cannot be serious."

"Deadly. Now quit complaining, I'll be pushing. I'd rather have a solid roof over my head for the night, wouldn't you? Let’s get moving."

After some grumbling, they got underway, and the cart trundled along in silence with Crimson trailing near the back.

"Say, Crimson..."

"Master?"

"I don't suppose you can detect magic on things that… ordinarily aren't supposed to be magical, right?"

"I can try. Depends on what I am looking for. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Do you think this will be the same trading post we came from?" Jacques asked.

"I hope so. Thorax arranged it," Handy said. There was another moment's silence before Jacques broke it, his voice oddly strained as if a sudden realization hit him.

"Mes amis, I just had a thought."

"What is it, Jacques?"

"Equestria and Griffonia… they are having border difficulties, oui?"

"Yes. It wasn't easy getting across, even when I had a group as small as I did," Crimson confessed.

"So what are we going to say when we're stopped and your treasure cart is searched?"

They all trundled to a stop for a minute as they considered the predicament they had been left in.

All that trouble and still Handy couldn't catch a break. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Bollocks."

Comments

[DevourMistress]

Well, you just made my day turn happy. I though this was going to be a crappy day, but thanks to you, it's happy day. Thanks, and great work with this story so far.

[wlam]

Wow, you really are pulling out all the stops recently, aren't you? 22k words. That'll take a while to get through. Actually, you haven't posted a regular chapter under ten thousand words since June, looking at it. I'm kind of amazed you manage to keep up the quality at that rate of output.

[Handyman]

6500938 I can't help it.
But I will admit it is exhausting.

[Krazyfan1]

Brilliant as always
...poor Chrysalis...
and that part near the end

[wlam]

6500948
I'm hardly about to complain over getting more to read, but still, be sure you don't overexert yourself, in your own interest. Burning yourself out isn't something anyone wants, I think.

[Asheram]

Hehe. Oh, Handy. Scared of a little intimacy, are you?

[CommandoDude]

Oh shit, Chrysalis has managed to find Handy's one weakness (well, second weakness, fire and all being #1).

Wait a second though Handyman...can you hear that?

I...I think I can here it coming...

SHIPPING INTENSIFIES

[Lupus]

One guy in the back near an active oven had a brightly lit magical staff, robe, and wizard hat. He even had a beard,

Anyone up for a game of D&D?

"I said get in," Crimson said from atop the dragon skull. Chrysalis looked down from her to the skull and back again.
 
"You mean… in there?"
 
"Yes."

*excited gasp in anticipation*

With a terrible, ominous groan that made the very earth rumble, buildings shook and reverberated across the entire city, and the great cadaver of the terrible wyrm appeared to come alive once more.

Close enough that I'm confident when I say I called it!

Wonder what Chrysalis would have done had Handy reciprocated. Now there's an alternate universe I'd like to see...

And so ends the changeling arc, though I hope it's not the last we'll see of them. I will so miss Thorax and Jacques banter.

[DenyTheWitch]

Wait? Does Handy still not have his armour?

[Slayerseba]

Yay.

[Danger Noodle]

I miss Thorax already...

[RC2101_Copey]

6501062 ;That's why he hoped to have been sent back where they entered from, and is asking Crimson about finding magic to help him track down his armour.

And damn, Chrysalis could put Trolestia to shame with those moves.

[Scarheart]

Chrysalis was written brilliantly.

As much as I enjoy Handy, she wins this round...again.

Our favorite vampire is a force to be reckoned with, but he simply can't keep up with that queen's mind.

[Majk]

Oh man, so much swag and nowhere safe to go.

[AzureShade]

Ah Handy, Lord of war, Master Vampyre, Exemplar of Subterfuge . . . and screaming fleeing filly when a female bats her eyelashes at him.

I bet his thought processes the entire trip to the portal were "run away run away run away run away!" hehehe

[MrMwagf]

"Handy looked to where her hooves were and the closeness of her face, and the look in her eyes as they peered deep into his with a frightening intensity. He was so taken aback that he actually stuttered for a moment. As he realised he was staring her in the eyes for a second too long, a thought came to him. Handy's mind raced, and only now did it dredge up a terrifying possibility he had not considered remotely possible. With dawning horror, the comprehension crept across his face, and a wide, triumphant smile spread across her own, clearly revelling that she had got through to him, all without having to use an ounce of magic to boot!

'Oh God,' the thought echoed in his panicking mind which had just processed the subtext. 'Oh God, I completely misread the situation. This can not be happening, oh God, oh God!'

"W-Wait…"

"Why?" she asked, leaning closer, Handy respectively leaning back.

"I-I can't, this is not, I mean, how can you—"

"You can worry about that later~"

"I-I should g-go."

"Plenty of time for that. What's the rush?"

"This isn't right."

"I am a changeling."

'Fuck.' He placed both hands on her withers to push her off. She merely pushed forward harder. He couldn't risk hurting her without bringing hell down upon his head, but this was… Fuck all of this! He needed an excuse; he needed to scare her off; he needed to end this before. God, no. His mind raced, and he thought up the one thing that might defuse this situation before it escalated into—'No, no, no brain, you are NOT going there.'

"I…" he swallowed. "I'll bite.""

To his horror, she laughed merrily, raising a hoof to her muzzle to hold it. She held it folded before her demurely as she looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as she fluttered her lashes. And then she spoke two words that sent chills down his spine.

"I know~"

i.imgur.com/XJYSdmT.jpg

[Handyman]

My only regret is that the bedroom scene seems to have stolen the thunder from the rest of the chapter.

Ah well.

[Dogstar_DogOfWar]

Oh this has updated? Well, fuck sleep i guess.

[Shocks]

Should have followed the golden rule Handy, Mo' money, Mo' problems.

[Booster Spice]

Handy really needs a new cloak, and possibly lift a Wizzards hat. After all, he probably considers Crimson as psychopathic luggage.

All lies and deception, all that destruction, and the hive sees the Heartless, Destroyer of Worlds, running screaming from she who would claim to be their ruler.

Things to ponder, They are in the Badlands, does the trading post have any communication with Canerlot and Fancy Pants Secret Service, where is his armor, where is his airship?

Will this be the place where Crimson and Jaques manage to work out how the Heartless Armor was origionally created, so Jaques can start up a small mining buisiness tied in with Fancy extracting Byzanium Ore?

Who thought that any good would come out of (EDIT:Oops) Southby Quarry.

[The Serpent Mage]

That fight scene... You make good fight scenes. Better than most I've read or watched.

'Oh God,' the thought echoed in his panicking mind which had just processed the subtext. 'Oh God, I completely misread the situation. This can not be happening, oh God, oh God!'

Handyman no, stahp

"Crimson? Good. Is that the payment? Excellent! No time like the present! Where's the talking baguette?"

"Que?" Handy rounded on the swordsstallion. His hands clasped about his shoulders. "W-Wha—?"

"Baguette acquired!"

Handyman, stahp. You're going to kill me with laughter.

[HumansRuleOK]

Wait I forget, how did they know about the Archon's betrayal? Was it from interrogating the lings at Whatchacallitville?

[Queuefka Palazzo]

Well at least we're finally coming close to the conclusion of the mess that started with the tournament. How long has Handy been away from Gethrenia now because of those shenanigans?

[The Orthodox Priesthood]

"Yes, that is certainly an adjective."

Fuck. I lost it so hard at this.

A wonderful chapter that I daresay is amongst the best so far.

I can only imagine our favorite band of griffins overcome with boredom at the normalcy of life with Handy's absence.

[Pyro The Reader]

Yup I'd say this is the best chapter so far, humor, great fight scenes, political intrigue and ROMANCE (Sarcasm Mode) great chapter.

[willybot]

Bravo, Chrysalis dear, bravo.

You have a gift for writing even over-the-top action sequences without making them absurd. I love it.

Only face-palming moment:

"You know what? You're good as dead now anyway," he said, uncaring if the Archon could even hear him as he limped out of the hall. "Have fun with the changelings."

No Handy, you fool! You're genre-savvy enough to know leaving the villain alive and unattended is a silly, silly move.

[More Dakka]

The second she claimed she would have him running from her I knew what the bug queen would do. Well played Crissy. Well played.

Good god that was worth the wait.

I think I'm almost going to miss Thorax...

[wlam]

"...Bollocks."

I concur.

"I am Queen Chrysalis of the—PBBLTBBLTLTPLBTLT!"
"PPPBBBBLLLTLTTRGERTGRTGRST!"
"PPPBBBLLLT!"

Crimson: Best Unicorn. Seriously, you just made me like her more than the rest of the story did put together. Fuck that was hilarious.

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak wanker," Handy said sweetly in Irish

How do you say that? Just for future reference, you know.

It was cathartic.

No shit. Seriously, I want one of those.

And then the Expensive brick sang the song of its people.

She wouldn't.

Oh fuck me sideways. She did!

[Handyman]

6502643 "Tá mé leithscéal, ach ní féidir liom labhairt féintruailleathóir/féintruaillitheoir/féinthruaillítear."

The last word literally means self polluter, just spelled slightly differently depending on which dialect you're using (yes there's different ones) as the word for wanker or masturbator does not exist in the language, so Irish swearing tends to be needlessly complicated when it comes to actually insulting someone with the intention to offend, with notable exceptions of course, resulting in the strange tradition of insulting your enemies through poetry as a matter of norm for many centuries. The Irish language can be weird like that, similarly there is no Irish equivalent for bastard, neither in the insulting term nor in the actual technical term as being unacknowledged by their father. The equivalent is a phrase that effectively means 'of Illegitimate birth.', there IS an Irish word for bastard now, Bastaird, but its a loanword from English.

[wlam]

6502688
...forget I asked.
Bloody Irish, I bet not one word of that is pronounced the way it's spelled either.
Inventing your language while drunk, who does that even?
Rassin' frassin', grumble grumble.

[Bob the ODST]

All the while, Handy was grinning like a loon.

"Don't run! Don't run! Come back! I just want to say hello!"

I'm completely shocked that Handy would easily and so willingly turn to the ways of the Psycho.
Wink, wink, nudge, nudge,see what I did there?

[Handyman]

6502733 As you should be.

Strange how the brick played a song Handy hated for reasons that make sense for his character to hate it as he does so.

[More Dakka]

6502742 Reminded me of this

[The Orthodox Priesthood]

6502718

It still makes more sense than Welsh, mate.

[wlam]

6502817
Some distinction that is.

[Handyman]

6502861 anamorfosis.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/welsh-road-sign.jpg

Speaking as a wizard Welsh is some Chtonic bullshit

[wlam]

6502888
That's the "sorry, I'm not in my office right now" sign, isn't it? Still have to giggle every time I think of that.

[The Tyrannical]

Handy kicking ass? Changeling rebellions? SASSY CRIMSON?

This chapter was WELL worth the wait.

But wow with that last scene between Handy and Chrysalis, Handyman. It's like you want the shippers to lose their minds.

(More sassy Crimson pls.)

[ClosetKnight]

6500948

Handy greeted the sudden audience of changelings enthusiastically.

A gleam of silver, a loud crack, a changeling sent careening off of his seat as the room filled with panic.

Very enthusiastically

Does Handy take enthusiastic walks through the woods?

[ClosetKnight]

6500948

"Oh…" He looked back at the changelings gravely, barely able to hide his victorious smirk. "Oh, son."

[Tofty]

So Handy had the Moonlight Greathammer, excellent. Nice chapter, the next few chapters I have a good feeling about.

[Warman1138]

Great chapter, Handy ROCKS! :yay:

[D48]

Ah, that was great. Lots of fun shenanigans, the fight scene was very well done, and I absolutely loved the way Chrysalis dealt with Handy at the end. Also, I was very happy to see that you didn't do the stupid green changeling blood thing because that makes no biological sense.

"So what are we going to say when we're stopped and your treasure cart is searched?"

Well, the first thing you say is that you are a baron and the king's sword, and if that doesn't convince them to fuck off then you hand over negotiations to Crimson.

Now, time to start taking bets on how long it will take Thorax to realize she actually loves The Baguette and come after them.

...I just gave Jacques a new permanent nickname, didn't I?

6501056

Wonder what Chrysalis would have done had Handy reciprocated. Now there's an alternate universe I'd like to see...

My god, that would be amazing. Especially because that kind of thing would probably have some kind of magical two-way binding given the fae connections changelings have in this story.

[FourthWallAfroBrony]

I can't. Not even.

(Nice to see that Handy may or may not be getting that tracker on him off soon)

P.S.
If he WAS tracked this entire time, wouldn't Equestria now know where the Changeling sanctuary is now? And the fact that the star tracks Handy, if he teleported at night, would that mean everyone saw a shooting star, or would the star blink out and blink back on at his location?

[Chrys]

...Is Handy's real name Sean Devlin?

[JarOfHearts]

I love these chapters, they're so much fun and they are a great romp.

But you know what I also love, handy Baron-ing. And I'm so exited that we're going to see that soon.
I know that it's usually meant as a break in the action, a breather episode if you will. But come on, he's basically count Dracula now. Everyone seems to forget that count Dracula was well, a Count! I can't be the only one to find the concept of a supernatural creature holding a position of authority doing the day to day drudgery that comes with his title interesting.

"Your malevolence! there are a plague of rats accosting the fields of south town. What should we do?"

"Chill out, I got this." *Dissolves into a swarm of giant bats.*

*Giant bats eat the rats in a manner of hours*

*reforms*"Ok, draw up predictions for crop loss and set aside an appropriate compensation. If that's all I will take my leave, I'm late for Jenga night with the wolfman."

[Auxiliary Nexus]

Handy has leveled up and got a Thor hammer. Nice.

[Dj7291993]

And this is why this is one of my favorite stories. I liked the brick making it back into the story, but Crimson has passed it up for best character. The whole chapter was great, but I actually had to stop and catch my breath at the baguette comment. That was great! Also, I blame you for my lack of sleep.

One thing though...

Others threw harder things: stones, shoes, and in a few cases, literal dangers that clanked uselessly against the floor.

How does one throw dangers? Are literal ones different than figurative ones? Or... are they daggers, cleverly disguised with an n?

[Aerial]

This was a very cathartic chapter. And then Crimson's friendly chat with Chrysalis brought a big shiteating grin to my face.

Also, I'm surprised that Handy didn't threaten to have a sampler of her blood when she got so close.

[Handyman]

6504525 He did.

"I... I'll bite."

To which she laughed and responded:

"I know~"

Handy was not prepared for that.