An Equestrian Freedom

by FullMetalFurbee

Chapter 17: Day 12: The Final Day

It was after midnight. Few troops remained awake except the poor souls assigned guard duty. Cian tossed restlessly in his sleeping bag. The volcano of premonition inside him was beginning to stir once more. His eyes felt like sandpaper, yet they refused to stay closed. The evening's events looped over and over again in his mind. Without waking his grandfather, he got up and unzipped the tent. He stepped out into the cold, stretched briefly, and took a seat in front of the smoldering remains of the night's campfire. The embers nipped at the shadows and crackled softly. The mint colored colt drew a deep breath.

What the hell am I doing here?

His head was spinning. He thought of Princess Luna. She was secure. Her life had meaning and direction of utmost importance. There was no question about which path she must take in order to achieve a meaningful existence. He thought of Twilight. She was pretty and young and had a future. She didn't have to fret over stagnancy or boredom anywhere within her life. Adventure seemed to stalk her at every corner. She was interesting. Then, he thought about himself. A wanderer, far from resolute.

He heard the sound of fabric flapping in the bitter cold. King Salvator slowly walked by him and sat on the other side of the fire. He had a tattered Halcyonic flag draped around his shoulders.

Cian bowed slightly. “Your Majesty,” he spoke in his native tongue.

The reflection of the fire shimmered in Salvator's gray eyes. “Ya haven't said very much tonight, Cian. They say a pony of few words is a wise one indeed.”

“Oh, I ain't any smarter than your typical workin' class colt.”

“What are ya doin' out here? Can't sleep?”

Cian shook his head.

“Neither can I,” said Salvator. “Rarely sleep much these days. Drama and antagonism mixed together makes for one nasty case of insomnia.”

“Not to sound rude,” said Cian, “but don't ya think that after all these years, it's time to lose the hate and understand your fears?”

Salvator thought for a few moments. “I envy your hope, Cian. I wish I had the capacity to hope like you do. I'm just an angry, dying soul. I've been around for longer than an entire ancestry of ponies. If the bitterness I feel hasn't gone away by now, what makes ya think it ever will?”

“I dunno. I guess I figure hate must be somethin' ya choose. Choose to keep it, choose to let it go.”

“You're partially right,” said Salvator. “I choose to hate.” He tapped his forehead. “I wear my grudges like a crown.”

“But why?”

“Why? Because a great injustice can't simply be forgotten. If that were the case, maybe this wretched world would work like it's supposed to.”

Cian warmed his hooves over the ashes. “Ya sure got a lotta' demons. I never knew ya always kept this much turmoil bottled up. Back home ya always just seemed sorta emotionless. Like ya built up some kind of solitary shell or somethin'.”

“As long as my people are free, I don't care what they think of me.”

Cian couldn't help but snort. “Ya don't gotta worry about that much. Trust me, your people love ya.”

Salvator smiled slightly. “Judgin' by your reaction, ya seem to have a dissenting opinion. If ya have anythin' to say, now would be an opportune time.”

“I thought ya didn't care what others think of ya.”

“I don't, but that doesn't mean I can't handle criticism.”

Cian sighed. “I can't really criticize ya. It's just that, well, it's your fault my Granddad and I are here. If it weren't for your personal conquest against Celestia, we'd be drinkin' beer back in Wintershore without our lives being directly threatened.”

“Oh yeah? How is it my fault?”

“Your draft,” he explained. “My Granddad didn't want to deal with the strife of a city divided by war. He hopped on a boat full of refugees that he thought were headed somewhere else, but it ended up dumpin' him here in Equestria. As soon as I heard where the boat was going, I snuck onto a ship full of troops gettin' ready to depart. It took me forever to find him here, but eventually I prevailed. The rest is history.”

Salvator stoked the ashes with a stick. “What do you want, boy? An apology?”

His response caught Cian off guard. “Well, yeah. I suppose I do. I want you to apologize for ruinin' any chance I had to have a normal life.”

“Why the hell would ya want a normal life?” Salvator snapped back. “Sounds to me like you're havin' a grand ole' adventure. Ya got an all-expense-paid trip to a foreign country, you're witnessin' history as it's bein' made, and ya get to meet your own King face to face.”

Cian glared at him. “If that's your half-assed attempt at lookin' on the bright side of things, it ain't helpin' very much.”

Salvator laughed. “You're sharp, boy. Hang onto that. Don't ever let life chip away at your intuition.”

Neither spoke for a minute or so. Cian kicked at the ground, not knowing what to say. His mood was bleak. “So, what went wrong?” he finally asked. “How did you end up Salvator instead of Gaius?”

“Life didn't happen like it was supposed to. From the moment I was born, my destiny was broken.”

Cian stroked his goatee. “Broken, huh? That's an interestin' way of puttin' things.”

“Well, something obviously went haywire somewhere down the line. Most ponies aren't banished from their homes. Most ponies aren't forced to watch their lives crumble around them. Most ponies don't wake up every morning with nothing in their heart except a searing desire to see their sister dead.”

“That's heavy,” said Cian, trying to offer a feeble understanding.

“Yeah well, it's my struggle. Not yours,” Salvator reminded him. “I ain't too good at showin' emotions, but believe me when I say that I am sorry for thrustin' ya into all this. I'd rather be back home too.”

“In all honesty,” Cian revealed, “I ain't missin' much. We'd only just moved to Wintershore before all this happened. I hadn't had a chance to get to know anypony or even find work for myself.”

“What about before you moved?”

“Not much of a life to brag about. I worked, went home, slept. Then did it all again the next day. Couldn't even afford school because I'd been savin' up for the move for at least six years. My life is the standard definition of boring. Ain't got one achievement worth talkin' about.”

“No shame in a workin' life. Means you're dependable.”

“It means I'm borin', which I despise. There's nothin' I hate more than bein' a bore. It almost makes me feel, I dunno, useless.”

Salvator shifted around in his flag blanket. “Ya don't seem useless to me. I bet ya don't seem useless to your granddad either. Who knows where he'd be if it weren't for you? Give yourself some credit.”

Cian felt the familiar doubt come blacking in his mind. “Credit for what? Anypony would have done the same thing. It's not like I could have just stayed behind.”

“Not everypony would have gone,” Salvator pointed out. “You're underestimatin' the power of hesitation.”

Cian was having trouble taking his words to heart. “I guess. I just, I tend to feel useless a lot. I don't have a lot of friends back home, and nothin' too great really happens to me. Hell, I'm old enough to drink and I ain't even had a marefriend.”

Salvator slapped his knee. “You're kiddin'!”

Cian shook his head. “See what I mean? I can't even get that right.”

“Hmm. What about that little purple cutie, Twilight?” Salvator smiled coyly. “No tellin' what kinda benefits gettin' with a princess might bring.”

Such implications made Cian blush. “No. She ain't my type, I don't think. I dunno. She ain't interested in that kinda stuff.”

“How would you know?”

“She almost died. I doubt romance is among her top priorities.”

“Hey, suit yourself,” said Salvator. “If ya want to completely disregard everything I say, go ahead. No skin off my back.”

Cian smiled. “Why are ya bein' so friendly anyway?”

Salvator looked around like he needed a posse to back him up. “What do ya mean, then? Can't a couple of stallions engage in casual banter without anythin' weird?”

Cian said, “Sure. I've just never seen this side of ya. Sometimes I forget you're not always so fire-and-brimstone about everythin'.”

“I've been around for quite a while, kid. I know a thing or two.” He smiled coyly again. “Especially about the ladies.”

Cian waved off his claim. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Say, we got any beer around?”

Salvator got up and walked back past him to retrieve one. “'Got any beer', he says. What kinda question is that? Hah!” He handed Cian a bottle. “Damn it's gettin' cold. Pretty much winter.”

“I'll drink to that,” said Cian. They both raised their bottles and took a swig.

“So Cian, what are ya gonna do after this?” asked Salvator as he re-wrapped himself in the flag.

“Dunno,” Cian said. “I'll probably just take Granddad back home and go back to scroungin' out a life any way I can. Who knows. Maybe things won't suck so bad now that I've met ya personally. I bet a lotta' ponies would love a chance to meet ya.”

“Not only that,” explained Salvator, “but throwin' my name around is bound to get ya some attention with the ladies.”

“What is it with you and mares?”

The King held his arms out. “What can I say? It falls under the whole 'live life to the fullest' philosophy.”

Cian shot him a scornful glance. “Bet your wife wouldn't appreciate that too much if she was still here. That's none of my business though. Anyway, what are ya gonna do after this? I assume you'll go back home and everythin' will be normal again, eh?”

He didn't respond for a few seconds.

“Your Majesty.”

“Huh?”

“What are ya gonna do after ya kill Celestia? I mean, are ya just gonna leave Equestria to deal with the repercussions? Luna will probably take on all the responsibility, right? I really like Luna. She gets things done.”

Salvator's tone had shifted dramatically. He spoke softly as if more to himself. “I dunno what I'll do. It's dangerous to think that far ahead.”

Cian was lost. “What are ya talkin' about?”

Salvator sighed. “Fantasizin' about the future clouds your judgment. I can't afford to do that. I, I'm really...”

“What?” Cian pressed.

“I don't got a lotta' time left, Cian. I ain't plannin' on makin' it too far after I finish my job.”

This sent a wave of dread through him. “What the hell are ya talkin' about? That doesn't make any sense!”

Salvator thought carefully. “Cian, you're young. There's a lot ya don't understand. I ain't exactly the picture of health. I'm old and I don't sleep well and I'll never become an alicorn as long as I live. Look at my ass. I ain't even got a cutie mark for god's sake.”

“Neither do I,” said Cian as he looked at his own blank flank.

“You're not a damn king, though. Are ya?”

“No, but-”

“Look, kid. All I'm sayin' is that if I live through this, I'm gonna step down from the throne. I wanna live my final years in tranquility. Maybe I'll move to an island somewhere. I don't know.”

Cian was ready to berate him now. “How can you possibly tell these are your 'final years?' Celestia and Luna are just as old as you and they're not goin' anywhere soon!”

“I've lived my entire life in fear. Tormented and paranoid. The kinda hurt and rage I got, it burns the soul. My entire life's purpose is right before my eyes. In a couple days, I will be without meaning. Obsolete.”

“What about your citizens?” Cian protested angrily. “What about your country and your duties as King? Ya can't just throw it all away because you're tired! That's irresponsible! Ya just got done tellin' me not to give up! Can ya even see how hypocritical you're bein'?”

Salvator downed his drink. “I ain't perfect. I never claimed I was responsible. If that makes you angry, make a change. Don't let my hypocrisy bog ya down.”

“How the hell can I possibly make a change? I'm just a blank flank earth pony like you!”

Salvator spat. “That's no excuse! Look what I did! I'm just a blank flank earth pony, yet I somehow managed to settle a nation and build an army! When my enemy cut me down, I rose right back up. Now I will bury her in her own blood!”

“I don't have an army, King Salvator,” said Cian quietly. “I can't rise against my enemies. I have no enemies, just my own uselessness.”

“I could still use your help. You're not useless to me.”

“I don't see what I can do, but thanks.”

Salvator made sure no one was eavesdropping and hunkered down low. “Okay. Look. Are ya willin' to bet your life to make an important change today?”

“I guess so. I've done it once. What's one more time going to matter?”

Salvator rubbed his tired eyes and thought deeply. “This is more than a long shot. In fact, this is probably nothing more than a distant memory. I probably shouldn't even mention it.”

Cian stood up. “No, tell me.”

“Back before I was banished, the castle had just built a wing hidden deep inside the mountain. It was a laboratory. As I remember, they were plannin' on using it for unorthodox sciences. Like alchemy, magic infusions, stuff like that. I'll bet that if the lab is still there today, there's no tellin' what's waiting inside. Nopony knows about its existence other than the workers and members of the Royal Family. Ya might be able to sneak inside and somehow persuade the workers to help ya out. I don't know how, but it's the only opportunity I can think of. They might be able to amp up your physical strength or somethin'.”

“Are you being serious?” asked Cian incredulously.

“Yes. It might be a suicide mission, but if ya truly need somethin' tangible to give your life meaning, go. Do it for me. Consider it a royal decree.”

“There's no guarantee it still exists?”

“No,” said Salvator.

“-and if I get caught, nopony is comin' to save me?”

“No.”

Cian looked back at the tents. “What about Granddad? I can't just leave him on his own.”

“This is your decision, Cian. Take your life into your own hands. If you want meaning, I'm telling you where to find it. I ain't gonna think any less of ya if ya choose not to go.”

“What would I do afterward? Say 'thank ya' and just waltz back out of the Castle?”

“It's your choice. I can do anything I want, and so can you.”

“So to put this in perspective,” Cian thought aloud, “I'm going to sneak through highly volatile enemy territory into a secret laboratory that may or may not exist in order to persuade enemy scientists to genetically alter me so I can help destroy their army and kill their ruler?”

Salvator smiled. “Simple.”

Cian thought long and hard. His gaze remained on the tent where Neeson slept. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“Excellent! Now listen,” said Salvator. “There used to be an auxiliary entrance dug into the mountain beside the castle. If it's still there, it'll be covered by Celestia's shield. I'll give you a device to temporarily disrupt her magic. I assume they'll ask you for a password or identity as well. Obviously ya won't be recognized, so tell em' 'Flugrekorder nicht öffnen.' Hopefully it'll still work.”

“What the hell does that mean? What language is that?” Cian questioned. It sounded hilarious.

Salvator scratched his head and took a drink. “It's nonsense. I don't even remember what language it is - I'm just surprised I remember it after all these years.”

“So if it doesn't work, I'm outta luck.”

“Essentially.”

Cian stretched once more. “Alright then. I'll do it. Tell Twilight I'm sorry I couldn't be here for the funeral.”

“Do you want me to tell everypony where ya are?”

“No. I probably won't make it anyway, so no use gettin' the others involved.”

“Ya don't have to do this, Cian.”

“I know that, but if I'm gonna die, it'll be on my terms.”

Salvator stood. “Ya remind me of myself. I dunno what to think about that.”

“Thanks, King Salvator. If that's it, I suppose I'll get goin' then.” He got up and to trotted into the darkness.

“Wait!” shouted Salvator with his hoof out.

Cian turned around. “Your Majesty?”

He handed him a pistol and holster. “Any guards give ya trouble, use this.”

“Thank you again,” Cian said. “If I don't see ya again, it's been a pleasure bein' your subject.”

“It's been a pleasure bein' your king.”

Cian equipped the weapon, took one last view of the camp, and vanished into the freezing night.

---

Below Canterlot Castle, a team of engineers eagerly waited to clock out. They were already on overtime and were blowing through their budget at a breakneck pace. Celestia wouldn't be too pleased if they kept having such late nights. As the last stallion punched out, they all heard hoofsteps and a click. To their horror, an intruder stood before them with a loaded revolver pointed their way.

“Make any sudden moves and I'll shoot each and every one of ya,” he warned.

The terrified ponies backed away in surrender. “Please, we're just workers. We don't have anything of value,” one of them said.

“Oh I doubt that very much,” said the gunman. “Sit down. I need to talk to ya.”

They looked at each other in puzzlement.

“I said sit down. That way I know ya aren't gonna try anythin'.”

They complied.

“My name is Cian,” said the armed intruder. “I'm here for a very specific reason. I don't want to hurt any of ya. I've never killed anypony, nor have I ever shot a firearm. Don't force me to change that.”

“What do you want with us?”

“I was getting to that,” he went on. “Is it true that Celestia has ya all workin' on genetic engineering down here?”

They were reluctant to respond.

“I asked ya a question.”

“Yes,” said a dark blue mare. “That would indeed be us. But how did you find this place? We're not even allowed to talk about our jobs with our families.”

Cian sat down across from them. “That ain't important. Right now, what matters is that I desperately need your help. I'll just get right to it. I want your help becomin' stronger. I want ya to change me, give me strength.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” an angry stallion demanded.

Cian trained the gun on him. “Do I look like I'm jokin'?”

“What you're saying is crazy! You want us to – to give you super strength?”

“Anything. Doesn't have to be strength. Just make me better than I am now.”

Another one of them said, “Even if we decided to help you, genetic engineering is a highly experimental field of study. We haven't even come close to fully understanding DNA!”

“I don't care. I'll take any risks involved.”

The mare from before spoke up. “Why should we help you do anything? You're one of them, aren't you? You're one of the invaders!”

“Yes I'm from Halcyon, but I'm not in the army,” Cian said. “I'm here because of my own free will. Use me as your test subject. I'm at your disposal. I don't care if I live or not, just try.”

“Why in the name of Celestia would we listen to you?” spoke another stallion. “Just because you have a gun doesn't make your word law!”

“Oh really now?” challenged Cian, pointing the gun at the resister.

“Wait!” cried another. “Don't shoot!”

One said, “How do you know that we won't just put you under and then leave? If you're in surgery, there's nothing stopping us from just leaving you for dead.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” Cian admitted. He lowered the gun.

“Please, just leave us alone. Don't drag us into your agenda. We're just average ponies trying to make a living.”

An idea popped into Cian's head. “How's that been workin' out for ya so far?”

“What?”

“Each one of ya works down here in the labs. Is this really the job you want? Surely there must be something better out there.”

“Not for us,” said the blue mare. “We're geneticists by fate. We've all received advanced degrees in various scientific fields. All of us down here chose this job. Most of us have had scientific cutie marks from a very young age.”

“Right,” said Cian, “but, it can't be easy. Don't ya want an end to all the stress and the secrecy? Ya said that not even your families are allowed to know what goes on down here.”

“That comes with the job. We all chose this. The research is demanding, but the pay is good and it's what we do best.”

Cian kept searching for a chink in their armor. “Don't ya want to be free of Celestia? It's unethical to keep you down here for so many hours, shut away from the rest of the world.”

“Celestia is a wonderful boss! You don't know what you're talking about!”

There it was. He had it. “She is? Do ya know what she did?”

The six looked at him suspiciously.

“Do ya all know what Princess Celestia did in this very lab not three days ago?”

“Sure,” said a stallion. “She was down here overseeing the last stages of bot development.”

Cian wore a somber expression. “Have any of ya heard of a pegasus named Fluttershy? She lived at the edge of the Everfree Forest.”

None had heard of her.

“She was bein' held here at the Castle for safety. She didn't deserve what happened. Princess Celestia...”

“She what?” asked the mare.

“She murdered Fluttershy in cold blood. With chemicals...”

A collective gasp arose from the geneticists. “You're lying!”

The mare shifted her spectacles. “He might be telling the truth. That must be why Pendragon left... Two days ago he quit unexpectedly... He was a hardy. Couldn't easily be phased...”

“You can't be serious. Princess Celestia wouldn't do that...”

“It's true,” Cian said. He set the gun on the cool tile floor and looked the mare. Her hair was a lighter shade of blue than her coat, but her eyes surprised him. Her irises. One blue as her coat, one red as a jewel. “What's your name?” he asked her.

“Mari,” she replied, dodging his stare. “Don't worry about my eyes. It's heterochromia.”

Cian tried to find common ground. “Listen Mari. I can offer ya a way out. All of ya. My King is here for the sole reason of removing Celestia from power. She's a deceptive tyrant with the appearance of a saint. Make me strong, and I'll make sure each and every one of ya is safe. Our army is gonna mobilize tomorrow and they're not takin' prisoners once they get here. I know my King personally, and I'll tell him to protect ya. Just please, help me now so we can all live to see tomorrow.”

The six scientists marveled at the massive choice before them.

“Is all this true?” asked a stallion.

“I give you my word,” promised Cian. He kicked the gun over to the group. “Here. Shoot me right now if ya don't believe me. I only want ya to know that it's a small matter of time before somepony more hostile than me comes knockin' on your door. It could be the army, but it just might be your own Princess.”

One of the stallions grabbed the gun and aimed it at Cian. “I don't appreciate seditious lies!”

Cian kept calm. “Shoot me if ya want. That ain't gonna stop what's already set in motion.”

Mari reached over and tugged the stallion's arm. “Stop it! I – I think he's right. Why else would Pendragon have left so abruptly? How would this Cian pony know about this place at all? Just - what he's saying makes sense, that's all.”

“You want to help him?”

“I don't know.”

“What would we do? Put him under and start splicing up genes all willy-nilly?”

Mari paused. “Well, remember that project that never got greenlit? 'Gloriously Bright?' It was otherwise discarded since we never had a suitable test subject.”

“Not to mention the success rate is virtually zero...”

“I don't care,” said Cian. “If I was afraid to die, I wouldn't have made it this far.”

The engineers were torn. They quietly squabbled over whether or not to initiate the controversial project. Finally, they reached a verdict. Mari served as the ambassador.

“We're split down the middle. Three of us want to help, three of us don't. So, that's what we'll do. Soma, Exon, and I will do the best we can. The others agreed not to tell Celestia about this little encounter.”

“Wonderful,” Cian said. “I believe you've made a wise choice. As for you other three, run. Take your families and get as far away from Canterlot as ya can. No shame in worryin' about your safety. Best of luck to ya all.”

Three stallions climbed to their hooves and disappeared down the hall.

“Okay then,” said Mari. “Follow me.”

They made their way through a narrow maze of hallways.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? Your body might not accept the changes.” Mari asked Cian.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

“Alright then.”

They entered a large room stocked ceiling high with expensive equipment. The pony known as Soma brought in a metal cart to serve as an OR table.

“The project is called Gloriously Bright, as you may have heard,” said Mari. “Normally we'd need heaps of information before we got started, but this isn't exactly a normal circumstance. We're going to have to bypass a lot of the safety steps in order to do this by tomorrow. The thing that worries me the most is that this project is supposed to be for unicorns...”

“I don't care,” said Cian.

Mari gathered materials. “Exon, lock the door. Put up a barricade so nopony gets in or out. Tomorrow morning there will be a lot of ponies wondering what exactly is going on in here. Cian, lay down on that cart.”

He lay down as instructed, feeling like a cadaver.

“Is all the equipment ready?”

“Yeah, should be.” said Exon.

“Good. I'm taking a blood sample now.”

Mari handed Cian a mask with a tube leading to a compressed canister. She then proceeded to extract a globule of his blood and take it over to her workspace. “In a nutshell, we're going to use your blood here to map your genetic code. Once we make all the changes in here, we'll re-inject you and let your altered cells replicate. The trick is, we don't have weeks to carefully observe the process. We're going to use advanced magic, probably runes, to speed things up a bit. Any questions?

“No.”

“Cian,” she said softly, “you might not wake up from this.”

“I know! You've said that already,” he snapped. “Just do it.”

“Okay.”

Cian's vision blurred as Mari turned the canister's valve. He lay his head against the cool metal and drifted off. The last thing he caught were snippets of the geneticist's conversation.

“Each codon has to be individually spliced...”

“No, we want that base pair to be mutagenic to avoid complications with genetic drift...”

“The blood sample is ready. Ready to inject?”

“Go ahead. He's not going to make it...”