Strings of Fate: Core Series

by Dissoriented

Strings of Fate: Exodus (δ)

“I’m sorry Fluttershy, but for your own safety I have to leave for a while.” Vance painfully stated the next morning.

“But why? What happened? Don’t you trust me?” Fluttershy cunningly quipped.

“Look, I… I messed up bad. I found out stuff I shouldn’t have and ended up on the wrong end of some very powerful ponies’ wrath. If they find Ponyville, if they find you… They’ll use anything they can get to get their revenge on me.” Vance said.

“Oh, I… I see…” Fluttershy replied, looking down sorrowfully. “How long do you think you’ll be gone for?”

“I’m willing to bet my hunters have very long memories and don’t easily forgive. I’m going to leave Equestria. See other lands, nations, and stuff like that. If I can, I’ll try to get in contact with you, but your safety comes first. I don’t want you to wake up to a pair of green goggles.” Vance said, shuddering.

Vance was filling his pack with a multitude of survival gear. He had gathered as many books on wilderness survival and geographical information on Equestria’s neighbors as he could. He was in this for the long haul. The sun was now fully visible to the east. Vance was straggling. He knew how quickly the black ops were able to track down their train and every second wasted put someone innocent at risk. He loaded his pack onto himself and made for the door. He turned to give Fluttershy a farewell.

“I’ll be back, I promise you.” he said, hugging her tightly.

“O… Okay.” she replied, stifling tears.

For the second time, Vance departed Fluttershy’s cottage, this time unsure if he could keep his promise. He took the old path he and Fluttershy used to walk back when they were younger. It was now overgrown and weeds puckered the dirt. Vance couldn’t help but scold himself. For all that Fluttershy had done for him, THIS was how he was treating her? Running off on a foal’s errand in some glory-seeking career as a soldier? Equestria hadn’t been at war for a good long time! The army had grown soft and lazy, a consequence for having a stable nation. Vance stopped for a bit to check his map. He charted a course for Baltimare. From there he could hitch a ride on a ship to somewhere far away. With relatively little money on him, Vance had also needed to prepare himself to eat wild flora, a first for his conscious life. Then again, what could be so different between wild grass and cultured grass? They were the same thing, biologically speaking. Well as it turns out, aged natural grass had a… dirty taste to it. The little seed pods at the end of the stalk didn’t help the situation, either. This was going to be a long journey.

Strings of Fate: Exodus

After an exhausting (and thankfully trouble-free) walk to Baltimare, Vance looked onto the glow of the city lights and sighed with relief. Descending into the city’s cobblestone streets, Vance found out the hard way that city life wasn’t as sunshine and butterflies as rural life was like in Ponyville. He found himself being shoved by a mob of ponies who apparently really needed to be somewhere else immediately. Vance had cursed himself for isolating himself in his own little world while growing up with Fluttershy. He had no idea how to proceed. Glancing at the many shops from the main square, he decided to check out a tavern, whatever that was. ‘The Sole Regret’ was its name, and this was where Vance learned about alcohol. Entering the noisy and crowded bar, he looked around for anyone who might know information. He saw ponies that looked like they were about to pass out, ponies that probably wanted to hurt him, and a peculiar-looking, lime green unicorn in the back, sitting in an awkward position all by himself. Figuring he hadn’t much to lose, Vance approached him.

“You got my respect for walking up to a pirate captain like he’s a secretary, colt.” said the peculiar pony. “Name’s Swash. Captain Swash Buckler.”

“Vance. … Just Vance.” Vance clumsily blurted out.

“Well ‘Just Vance,’ what brings you to this… ‘fine’ establishment?” Swash asked.

“I’ve got my reasons. You said you were a captain, right?” Vance cautiously continued.

“You forgot the ‘pirate’ part, but I’ll let it slide this time. Yes, I got a ship, and yes, you can flee the country aboard it… provided you can carry your own weight.” the clever unicorn deduced. “I may be a pirate, but I didn’t survive this long on just my devilish good looks and barrels upon barrels of cider, though they did help. Got to be smart if you want to stay competitive in a pirate’s market these days. Hire selectively and back check your supplies’ sources, and other fancy economic terms. Yee har.” *drinks from mug*

Vance had become utterly befuddled at the pony he had just met.

“You look like tartarus! Pull up a seat and let’s talk business. Waiter! Another Cinderbrick Stout and one Balti-malt!” Swash shouted.

The waiter returned with two more wooden mugs filled with foamy brown drink. Vance noticed Swash’s was significantly darker in color than his was.

“When you’re out at sea for months on end, you need drink that can last that long. Pretty soon, you acquire a taste for it and the sweeter stuff just won’t cut it anymore.” he continued, swirling his mug and spilling a bit on the table.

“So where’s your ship going?” Vance asked, apprehensive on drinking whatever was brought to him.

“I don’t do business with weak stomachs. Swig that and we’ll talk.” Swash demanded.

Vance looked into the mug, seeing the reddish-brown drink still fizzling. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took a drink. It was the worst thing he ever had. Still, this was Vance’s best chance to leave Equestria, so he summoned all his will to force the drink down his throat, coughing viciously afterward.

“Eh, you’ll learn.” Swash said unsympathetically. “Dock 4. It’s the sauciest ship in sight. See you then.”

Without another word, the lime green unicorn seemingly vanished.

~

After stumbling his way out of the tavern reeking of sweat and fear, Vance walked towards the ocean. The logical place to look for a dock would indeed be the ocean, and find one he did. After glancing both ways, looking for a ‘saucy’ ship (whatever that meant), Vance just said to hay with it and started walking up and down the docks, hoping to find this sauce ship.

“‘The Saucy Mare?’ Are you joking me here?” Vance said to himself, noting the suggestive mare carved out of wood bolted ingloriously to the ship’s nose.

Thank Celestia for elegant flowing hair.

“Well, ‘bout time you got here!” Swash called, hanging from some netting. “Was starting to think you got shanked in that bar!”

Vance, unsure of what to do, simply stood and listened.

“Well don’t just simply stand there listening, come on up!” Swash invited.

Somewhat hesitantly, Vance boarded ‘The Saucy Mare.’ Swash was on the floor to greet him faster than seemingly possible.

“Great to have ya aboard! Lemme introduce you to the crew, so they don’t accidentally think you’re from the Thieves’ Guild and cut out your innards you while you sleep. Alright, colts! Line up! 1, 2!” Swash shouted.

After Vance dispelled the disturbing image Swash planted in his head, he followed him on down the line of pirates of varying appearance. For the most part, they seemed unremarkable and not worthy of mention, save for several unique faces.

“Here’s Bilge Rat. He’s our cook. Don’t let the name fool ya. He keeps his station clean… mostly. This here’s Bynn. He’s our top archer. That bow’s misleading. He can bust up a lot of things with one good shot, boxes and bones alike.” Swash explained.

“He’s a breaker all right!” said a random pirate.

“Here’s Polaris. He’s in charge of making sure we don’t end up stranded at sea. And this *voice becomes smoother* lovely mare is our courtesan, Minerva. She’s in charge of… entertainment for our long sojourns at sea.”

Vance looked directly at Minerva, who flashed him a suggestive wink. Vance had no visible reaction, slightly surprising both Minerva and Swash.

“Well maybe Minerva’s style of entertainment isn’t the variety you prefer…” Swash said, slightly distraught.

Vance made no mention of Fluttershy.

“Well with this crappy introduction ceremony out of the way, let’s get outta here ‘fore the port authority figures out I wrote on their walls.” Swash said nonchalantly.

As if leaning on Swash’s beck and call, the crew immediately made the appropriate preparations to leave. As they were sailing off, Vance saw what Swash meant by ‘wrote on their walls.’ He had painted several rude gestures and provocative words onto the outer walls of the port authority building. Vance became bug-eyed as he began to think what he had gotten himself into.

~

The life of an Equestrian sailor is one of extreme repetition, mitigated by infrequent bursts of life-threatening occasions. Most days Vance worked alongside the grumbling cleaning crews, ensuring the deck was habitable. Most nights Vance merely lay outside, looking at the stars. Most of the crew was in the dining hall, taking part in the ritualistic activities of getting smashed like a ripe pumpkin and hitting on Minerva, which only worked when a few stray bits were showing out of your pocket. Vance found himself frequently visiting the paranoid Polaris who was often too preoccupied with scanning multitudes of stellar maps to even notice Vance’s presence. He never conversed with him, but he liked to feel the presence of another living thing, erratic and tireless as it may be.

“Is this really a pirate’s life?” Vance asked in disappointment to Swash on one of the odd days where they had time to speak.

“As I recall, you weren’t looking for the life of a pirate. You wanted to come aboard my ship, so I put ya to work.” Swash said with a pipe in his mouth, leaning over the ship’s railing and watching the coast of whichever country they were passing by.

“I was under the impression the journey wouldn’t last more than a week.” Vance grumbled.

“We’ll have plenty of opportunities for you to get off if you so choose, but until then, you need to make rent. I’m buying your food and not selling you to the Seljuk slave market, so count your blessings.” Swash said while blowing out tufts of smoke, his eyes never leaving the coast. “There’s an old song I remember. It covers my life pretty well. I’ve forgotten how it goes, but I can still hear the beat. Ah, memories…”

Without getting any satisfying answers, Vance walked around the ship to see if any of the crew could be more enlightening. He found Bynn casually shooting at a flock of overhead birds. Each shot fired found a mark, and each mark thumped onto the deck several moments later.

“Hey there. Bynn, was it? You mind if I ask you some questions about this whole gig?” Vance asked.

Bynn turned to face Vance, a worn scarlet scarf covering his face. Given how hot the days were, Vance was puzzled as to why he wore it. Bynn said nothing.

“Uh, can you tell me anything about the ship?” Vance tried again.

Without a word, Bynn beckoned Vance to follow him down to Bynn’s personal quarters. Going to the far end of the room, he reached far back into a desk drawer and pulled out a small, glossy wooden box. Inside it was a knife crusted with dried blood.

“I… don’t understand…” Vance said, starting to become on-edge, thinking Bynn might try to harm him.

Bynn then went over to a bookcase, shifted several away, and pulled out a small jar. In it was a tongue, floating in brine. Vance was somewhat mortified by this, but what really got him was the note sealed onto the case with a red wax stamp of a crown. It read:

I win. You work for me.

- Swash

Bynn gave Vance a look of loss and boiling vengeance.

“So he owns you…” Vance deduced.

Bynn nodded somberly, his eyes becoming tired and hopeless.

“I… I don’t know what to say, I…” Vance started.

Bynn slowly nodded his head once, indicating he knew what Vance was trying to say. With nothing left to be said, Vance nodded back and began exploring the bowels of the ship. Wandering through the various nooks of various purpose, Vance spied Polaris scurrying about a miniaturized observatory, rolls of paper erratically jutting out from shelving. They were apparently stellar maps, as Polaris kept muttering on about constellations and solstices.

“So Polaris, do you ever talk to anypony else?” Vance asked.

“Canis Major, not Minor… 33 degrees… north by northwest…” Polaris was muttering to himself.

“Do you even do anything besides this? Do you even eat?” Vance said mostly to amuse himself.

“Got to earn my keep. Captain’s orders. Got to earn my keep. Need to repay debt.” Polaris said, stopping in his tracks and looking down to the floor. “Need to pay…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Polaris went back to his clockwork routine. Getting a tad nervous about what he’d been seeing so far, Vance moved on. Continuing further into the bowels of the ship, Vance finally saw for the first time the dining hall. It was smaller than he expected. Much opposed to how it was in the cold hours of night, it was completely barren, save for one mare carelessly sprawled out on the table.

“Ah, if it isn’t our latest acquisition…” Minerva said, obviously intoxicated.

“Minerva, right? You mind if I ask you about what goes on around here?” Vance inquired innocently enough.

“Boss doesn’t like his possessions consorting when he’s not around to keep us under his hoof.” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Everypony here owes their life to Swash. Either he bought them off the black market, sliced off a piece of them, or in the case of his favorite filly toy, took her from an orphanage when freedom was ‘almost’ within her grasp.” Minerva said, reaching for the ceiling. “He just HAAAD to have me. Pretty sure he threatened the director. Bought me and whisked me away to this floating prison. Never mind I had some of the best grades in my class, my body was too precious a commodity to be wasted in more productive ventures. *long, drawn-out breath* So here I am, a broken shadow of the mare I could’ve been. Stabsinthe helps dull the pain, though. Thank… who was it again? Celestia? Yeah. Thank Celestia for imported drink.”

“Oooo… kay then…” Vance said, creeping over to the kitchen.

“He owns us, hot stuff. He owns us aaaaaall.”

Deciding he’d had enough psychological scarring from an exotic dancer, Vance went to talk to Bilge Rat. The name really didn’t make him trust the food any more.

“From the look on your face, I take it you’ve seen Bynn’s prized possessions?” Bilge asked.

“Seems everypony on this ship isn’t here of their own will. PLEASE tell me you can explain what goes on around here.” Vance begged.

“Well colt, I was ‘ere on the Mare’s maiden voyage, an’ I can tell ya that things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

“You’re going to have a tough time convincing me that slavery is a preferable alternative to anything else.”

“You know what Bynn did before joining? ‘E was ‘ead of Las Pegasus’ Thieves’ Guild. The Guilds aren’t as professional in the southern provinces. Bynn ‘eld the city in a grip o’ terror. Best archer Equestria’s seen since ‘Deadeye’ Fletcher. ‘E ordered assassinations on anypony who threatened ‘is rule, an’ ‘e carried out a good number of ‘em ‘imself.”

Vance’s day just went from bad to worse. Not only was he on a pirate ship with nothing important to do, but he was also on it with the lowest elements of society.

“Wasn’t ‘til Swash challenged ‘im 1-on-1 that the city could be retaken by Celestia’s colts. Swash took ‘is tongue an’ bound Bynn to a code o’ ‘onor.”

“Still, it’s a pretty gruesome contract.”

“Better ‘ere than out there. Minerva’s an even sadder tale. Good prospects in life, even for an orphan, but ‘er director… ‘er director was more into turnin’ a profit than ‘elpin’ the needy. You think what Swash ‘as ‘er doin’ now is bad? Multiply that by 4 an’ that’s what she COULD’VE been in.”

“That doesn’t seem to justify what Swash is doing, though.”

“‘Who said anything about justice? Swash does the things that ‘ave to be done for the good of everyday society. It’s a grim outlook, but it’s for the best.”

“Wait, what about Polaris?”

“Look at ‘im! You think ‘e could fit in with normal society? Swash found ‘im after ‘e ‘ad a nervous breakdown. Swash cut ‘im a deal to bury ‘is past in exchange for ‘is loyalty.”

“I think I’m starting to see it how you do. It’s still horrid to see them living like this, though. So how’d you end up with Swash?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

Vance decided to take Bilge’s word for it.

“Swash ain’t no saint, an’ ‘e’d be the first to admit it, but trust me, ‘e’s doing the world a favor keeping us out ‘ere and outta trouble. That answer your questions?”

“Er… kind of. Thanks, Bilge.”

Having his ethics class for today over, Vance took his leave, his mind conflicted. He’d have a lot of nights ahead to contemplate Bilge’s words.

~

Vance had expected this day to be like any other. However, unbeknownst to him, an ancient evil was stirring from its slumber back in Canterlot. And it likes chocolate rain. Vance awoke to immediately find something was off about today, as his bed was attached to the wall instead of the floor. When he questioned this, gravity wasted no time on humiliating Vance. As he recuperated, he could hear heavy hoofsteps above. Something bad was happening.

“What the hay is trying to kill us today?” Vance asked Swash while covering his eyes from the fresh sun.

“Well, Bynn can now speak fluent Arabic, even though he’s only been there twice and he has no tongue, Minerva’s tail is now made of cotton candy, so even more of the crew are trying to *puts on sunglasses* git sum o’ dat flank, *removes sunglasses* and Polaris is calm.” Swash reported with an expressionless face. “It’s an apocalypse.”

The crew was in complete chaos. Flaming lobsters were crawling onto the ship, spreading misery and writing crappy poetry on the ship’s hull. The ocean turned a bright red. Swash lowered himself over the side railing with his grappling hook, dropped down, and popped back up a few seconds later.

“Aaaaand the seas are now made of fruit punch. Well that certainly doesn’t happen every day.” Swash remarked. “And that is a walrus flying a scooter across the sky.” noting the walrus flying a scooter across the sky.

“Woah! Double rain*BANG*

“NONE OF THAT ON MY SHIP!!!” Swash screamed at a random (and now dead) pirate, holding a small, smoking cannon in his hoof.

“What the hay is going on?!” Vance said, starting to panic.

“Whatever it is, you’ll probably want to hold onto something.” Swash remarked.

In an almost prophet level of convenience, a giant whirlpool began churning a short ways away. The oddest part was that it was pulling… up. Wasting no time, Vance and Swash went back indoors, trying their best to herd as much of the other crew with them, though some nameless and unimportant characters were lost to strings of licorice jutting out from the ocean, acting similarly to the tall tales of giant squid attacks.

“SWEET CELESTIA!” Vance exclaimed as ‘The Saucy Mare’ was now being pulled rather violently towards the reverse-whirlpool.

Before anypony knew it, the entire ship was being shot straight up at speeds nopony before them could even fathom. The force was so great that they had broken through the planet’s gravitational pull and soon found themselves soaring through space. Despite the lack of oxygen or life-sustaining conditions, everypony that remained on the ship was perfectly safe. A large *thud* signaled that the ship’s nose was now grinding out a new trench for the Lunar Front. Their entire sojourn into space took a good couple of hours, and despite the atrocious casualties they received, had a reasonably entertaining time. Plus, they got some sweet moon rocks as souvenirs, being able to capture them with either magic or by snagging a stray that got kicked up by the ship. Finally, the time came to return home. Everypony held on tightly as the ship left the moon’s surface, followed the gravitational arc back around, and right for their home planet.

“THIS DOESN’T MAKE ANY SEEEEENSE!!!” Vance screamed as the ship reentered the atmosphere, somehow retaining its integrity.

With a loud (and painful) splash, ‘The Saucy Mare’ was once again in her natural environment, and for a short period, under it. The surviving ponies recuperated as quickly as they could, the deck coated in fruit punch and animate marshmallows, which apparently had replaced the fish. Swash was barking out orders to the scrambling crew as he tried to reestablish some sense of order, when a vibrant wall of the color spectrum appeared on the horizon. In but a moment’s time the wave of color washed over them all, restoring everything to its original status. The ocean was deep blue, the marshmallows turned back into fish (much to a horrified Bilge’s surprise, in the middle of eating one raw), and the licorice giant squid was now just a regular giant squid, which Swash promptly shot in the face with his miniature cannon, killing it.

“Is… is it over?” Minerva asked, panting heavily, a pirate nibbling on her tail, now not made of sugary goodness.

All the pirates glanced around at each other.

“Yeeeeah let’s just take today off.” Swash said.

They threw out the anchor and went to bed early that day.

~

The shrouded six shuffled into the meeting room and began their procession.

“Hermes’ trail has grown cold. Scouts last report seeing a similar figure in Baltimare, speaking with Keter.” - Selene

“We should have just terminated him when we had the chance! Now we have 2 ponies loose, both of whom show great potential to unravel our magnificent plan.” - Pony 3

“Silence, Iapetus. Regardless of their capabilities, they are but two ponies, and they are still unaware of our intentions.” - Hyperion

“We dare not risk an intervention into Hasu’s affairs. If any group is capable of combating us, it’s them. We must do all we can to evade the eyes and ears of the Webwork.” - Pony 5

“Agreed, Phoebe. For the time being, Hermes is a non-threat while he is outside Equestria’s borders. He has no hopes of amassing enough forces, and Saddle Arabia is ill-prepared to attempt an invasion. Shift focus over to finding and eliminating Krínos. Protogenoi watch over us.” - Hyperion

“Protogenoi watch over us.” - Selene, Iapetus, Pony 4, Phoebe, Pony 6

~

For a pirate outfit, Swash’s current assignment was seemingly legitimate. Despite being a marauder of the high seas, Swash was also a successful merchant vessel. He managed his ragtag band of misfits like a company, just with even more corrupted authority. And just like any merchant vessel, it was a constant target of… pirates. It was the break of dawn when the crack of a massive ballista bolt impaled ‘The Saucy Mare,’ startling Vance awake by destroying his room. Before he even realized what was happening, the crew had already begun setting up countermeasures. The incoming enemy vessel had a mast of cyan with a white lotus symbol emblazoned upon it. Swash recognized this enemy. They were not pirates.

“Hasu…” Swash muttered angrily upon seeing his foe’s standard.

“Friends of yours?” Vance teased.

Swash shot a dead-serious look right at him.

“The Keter line’s been fighting the Hasu line for generations. Before the Webwork, before Celestia, even before Equestria was settled. The firstborn colt of my line fights the firstborn filly of theirs. Centuries of battle…” Swash said, seeming to fade into a trance.

As Swash regaled the epic saga of his dynasty’s war, grappling hooks began to snare onto the ship, and many obscured ponies, all unicorn, engaged Swash’s colts. The attackers certainly seemed to have the advantage, with magic and finely crafted, exotic-looking weapons. Given the current stream of casualties, it certainly seemed like a losing battle, but Swash didn’t break a sweat or unfurl a brow. He brought out his cutlass and grappling hook and began effortlessly hacking his way through the boarding party. This wasn’t the first time he had done this. Minerva was also seen, holding her own with 2 daggers, as was Bilge using his trusty frying pan as a mauling pan. Bynn was doing well with his trade, unloading arrows at a remarkably fast rate and cutting down a good number of enemies.

“What, your ‘fearless’ leader couldn’t come to face me herself, eh?” Swash asked the few bleeding survivors once the fighting subsided and the enemy ship disengaged. “Typical Hasu! Cower behind your puppets!”

Vance gave Swash a bit of time to vent before pressing the subject.

“Who were those ponies?” he asked.

“Lackeys of the Hasu family. They’re pretty selective in their recruitment process, and any one of theirs can outmatch my run-of-the-mill pirate easily. They’re got the skill and equipment, but I’ve got the numbers and stubbornness.” Swash replied with a vicious wink.

“Care to tell the tale?” Vance inquired.

“To the dining hall!” Swash ordered.

Swash very much enjoyed putting on a show. With the surviving crew assembled, Swash recited his family’s legacy.

“Before Equestria, two families coexisted until their ideologies drove them apart. One was for progression, expansion, and diplomacy. The other was for tradition, consolidation, and security. The Keter family, my family, struggled against the Hasu family for dominance. Our war reached such epic proportions that, to limit the bloodshed, our ancestors agreed that only the firstborns may lead their family’s armies into battle. The first colt of the Keter and the first filly of the Hasu would battle against each other either until one family would finally be doomed or until time itself had ended. To this day, neither family has yielded. I tell you sorry lot this, because you’re on the forefront against the Hasu family’s army. Now, let’s crack open a few kegs and forget this entire speech!” Swash said to a mass of cheering pirates.

The remainder of the evening dissolved into their average night, so Vance took his leave. Aside from the occasionally pirate attack, in which the opposing ship was usually obliterated in some comical or improbable manner, the following weeks were quiet. Swash ran shipments from port to port. Vance had considered leaving the ship permanently several times, but they were usually in strange lands he knew nothing about. Instead, he hid away in Swash’s uncharacteristically large personal library. Vance did not expect a pirate to own books on Theology and engineering, particularly involving experimental steam technology. And so it became regular for a while that Vance would hide away in Swash’s library, expanding his knowledge into subjects that held little relevance to him at the moment. Whenever ‘The Saucy Mare’ made a stop in an Equestrian, Cattleonian, or Confederate port, Vance made sure to send Fluttershy a letter. They usually set sail in a day or two, so the chance of being caught by his hunters was slim. Still, the threat was troubling…

~

Feeling his time at sea was complete and seeing that ‘The Saucy Mare’ was passing by Equestria’s coast soon, Vance requested to be let off at the earliest convenience. The crewmates whom Vance had come to know well looked around nervously, each knowing what Swash would interpret that as. Swash got a creepy grin on his face upon hearing Vance’s wish.

“Take care of yourself out there, sweetie. And if you ever change sides, you know where to find me…” Minerva said, seductively.

“I have a fillyfriend, you idiots!” Vance blurted out, finally sick of the misinterpretation.

A look of sudden realization and embarrassment came upon the crew’s faces. Everypony looked mildly relieved. As Vance was turning to Swash again, Bynn tapped Vance on the shoulder and forwarded his signature scarlet scarf.

“Really? You sure about this?” Vance asked.

With a simple nod from Bynn, Vance accepted the gift, flinging it around his neck.

“Take care o’ yourself out there, mate.” Bilge said. “It sure ain’t gonna be as fun without you ‘round here.”

“Thanks again, Bilge, for everything.” Vance replied. “And Polaris? Keep at it, pal.”

Polaris twitched and murmured something, which Vance equated to a farewell.

*ahem* *aherm* *AGHBLGRBLAGHIBGRB* Swash cleared his throat in many loud, attention-getting manners.

“Thanks for everything, Swash. You’re one crazy old salt, and I wouldn’t want you any other way!” Vance complimented.

“AW C’MERE, BUDDY!” Swash exclaimed, rushing Vance with a hug of epic proportions. “Don’t go dying a horrible, painful death out there while I’m not around, y’hear?”

After exchanging formal goodbyes, Swash telekinetically launched Vance over the side of the ship, shortly followed by a gondola (where Swash was hiding it, nopony could say) and all of Vance’s possessions. Vance quickly struggled to get in the little boat. At least Swash had the kindness to pack Vance’s things for him. Now secure in his transport, Vance took one final look back at the galley.

“That crazy old salt.” he said, chuckling to himself as ‘The Saucy Mare’ sailed off, the entire crew waving goodbye to Vance.

Vance picked up a small oar stashed on the gondola and paddled his way back to land. He washed up on the shores of Cattleonia, near Taurcelona, which was separated from the Equestrian city of Albuckerque by Boca del Rio Bay. Despite not knowing a lick of Cattlean, most Taurcelonans understood Equine, and Vance managed to survive for the time he spent there. He took this opportunity to send Fluttershy a letter. He would need to leave Cattleonia immediately, as there was a pretty good chance his hunters would find the letter and see where it originated.

~

Some time later, after another near-death encounter with those *squee*ing flesh-eating parasprites in those forsaken jungles, Vance had decided on a whim that he wanted to make a visit to Canterlot. Maybe he was hoping to uncover something that could answer the deaths of his comrades, or possibly it was some unseen Force tugging him towards what would transpire there. Getting there was much easier than Vance had anticipated. Despite his bedraggled look, he had little issue getting into the city itself; though to be honest he did go in through the more decrepit section of Canterlot, the Undercity. Vance was abhorred at what these proles were living with, and disturbed to know a utopia was sitting atop it. The locals didn’t pay any attention to him, which was just how Vance wanted it. Much to his displeasure, a day after his arrival a large magical bubble shield was erected and the number of Royal Guards out on patrol increased greatly.

“Looks like I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Vance told himself.

Vance began integrating into Undercity life, at least until a means of escape arose.

~

Over the next several days in captivity, Vance had done his best to evade detection. He ate at a soup kitchen and dressed accordingly to the role he was playing. Eventually he found out the reason for the tightened security. There was a high-profile wedding between a princess and the captain of the Royal Guard. While out surveying the city on the day of the wedding, a blue unicorn mare randomly joined him.

“Nice view, huh?” she asked.

“All I can see is the cogs that turn beneath it.” Vance replied.

“Uhh… ok? So what’s your name?” she pressed.

“…”

Vance was apprehensive about giving away any information. Was she hunting him? Against his better judgment, Vance decided to take a risk.

“Vance.” he said, extending his hoof towards her. “And yours?”

“Min… Colgate.” she replied, shaking his hoof. “So what’re you doing in Canterlot, Vance? Invited to the wedding?”

“Anything but. I doubt they’d let me onto the palace grounds.”

“What, you some criminal or something?”

Vance started getting nervous.

“I never got an invitation, and I doubt they’d let a prole crash the party.” he said.

“A ‘prole?’ What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s from an old book. It’s a… oh nevermind what it is. The point is I’m stuck in this city for who knows how long.”

They stood silent there for a while.

“So did you not get invited either?” Vance asked.

“Ugh… I was supposed to be a mare of honor for the bride, but then out of nowhere I suddenly get told I’ve been replaced! So here I am, no formal invite, and not able to leave until the wedding’s over.” Colgate lamented.

Colgate started letting her woes fly free, when Vance noticed that the sky outside the shield was blotted with little black patches. He focused to try to get a better look.

“Hey, what’s going on outside the shield?” he asked, interrupting Colgate’s tirade.

Colgate glanced out to the shield, noticing the blots in the sky as well.

“I don’t know… but it can’t be good.” she said.

Colgate walked away from Vance, placed her hoof on her ear, and started talking to herself. Vance tried to imagine what these things could be outside the shield, when Colgate suddenly appeared beside him.

“We have to move. NOW.” she barked.

“Why? What’s going on?” Vance asked.

“No time to explain, just follow me!”

Colgate began running to some unknown destination. Vance figured she may have a better idea about what was going on than he did, so he tagged along for good measure. Colgate led him through the upper levels of the very vertical-oriented Undercity, where sunlight still permeated through, to a nondescript shack. She rummaged through it, throwing out a perfectly good pie, a set of golf clubs, and an unfinished robotic replica of Colgate before emerging with a set of keys.

“What’re those for?” Vance asked.

“Keys to an airship. We need to leave Canterlot as soon as we can. And to do that, we need to get to the drydocks and commission a ship.” Colgate replied.

The two began heading for the docks. Now was when they were noticed by the overhead changeling drones, who wasted no time zeroing in on them and attempting to stop them from whatever it was they were doing. Vance discovered much to his displeasure that they could use their magical abilities to crash into the ground with minimal physical damage.

“Living artillery! Every day, something new!” Vance quipped, quite annoyed.

He and Colgate made their way to an abandoned intersection. Looking behind them, some drones were in hot pursuit. Vance looked around to try to find a means of escape.

“Vance!” called a voice Vance had nearly forgotten from a dilapidated storefront. “In here!”

Vance and Colgate wasted no time bolting it indoors, Colgate occasionally blasting a few drones away. The two got inside the makeshift fortification made of brass instruments and a grand piano.

“Good to see you again, Vance, even under these… circumstances.” the voice said.

*panting heavily* “Good to… see you… too… Octavia.” Vance mustered.

“You two… know each other?” Colgate managed.

“Somewhat.” Octavia said defensively.

“Story… for another day… Colgate.” Vance said.

“I saw the swarm conglomerating outside the shield several hours before it shattered. It was clear the Captain wouldn’t be able to sustain it for much longer, so I made a few preparations.” Octavia explained.

Vance and Colgate were finally able to catch their breaths.

“A few? It looks like you prepared for an apocalypse!” Vance noted.

“Well it seemed appropriate, given the situation.” Octavia said, glancing out a small window.

“Fair enough. Alright, we need to get to the south end of town.” Vance asked.

“What do you hope to find there?” Octavia asked.

Rummaging through the various containers, he tossed Octavia an artisan crossbow that had been left lying around in a random crate.

“A way out of here, hopefully.” Vance said.

“There might be an airship we can use. The only problem is getting there.” Colgate said nervously.

“You’re going to flee? What happened to the Equestrian commando I met?” Octavia demanded.

“Have you seen what’s going on outside? We need to get the word out as quick as possible before this spreads beyond Canterlot, which it will unless we get a deus ex machina or something else equally unlikely.” Vance explained.

“Woah, wait. Equestrian commando?” Colgate asked.

“So how do we get there? And why’d you even give me this thing? I’m a cellist, not an archer!” Octavia complained.

“Well I was thinking we just make a run for it.” Vance said.

“HellOOooo?” Colgate whined.

“And I hope you can learn well under pressure. I doubt you can shoot lightning out of your face or crack spines with a single kick, so you’re the crossbow. Besides, you’re good with string instruments, right?” Vance continued.

“That’s not the point!” Octavia persisted.

Colgate slammed her head against the wall in surrender.

“Something on your mind?” Octavia asked impatiently.

“… Nothing.” Colgate said grumpily.

With no time to spare, Vance plucked every crossbow bolt he could find and loaded them onto Octavia, still trying to pull back the string.

“Of course, the ONE time I come back, it just HAD to be in the middle of an invasion! Canterlot despises me, and the feeling’s becoming mutual.” Vance bemoaned. “Flesh-eating parasprites were bad enough back then, but now it’s a sentient swarm!”

“Alright, I finally got this *angry grumbling* thing prepared. Shall we proceed?” Octavia asked, visibly ticked off.

“We don’t have to go the whole way above ground, y’know. I know the sewer system pretty well. We can use that to make it to the drydocks!” Colgate chimed.

“You can’t expect me to wade through sewage!” Octavia complained.

Vance shot her a look that brought her into compliance. The three waited for a time when it seemed the swarm wasn’t paying much attention, then rushed over to a manhole… whatever a ‘man’ was. From there, it would be a long and poor-smelling walk to the drydocks.

~

The sewers seemed to be changeling-free for the time being, so the three took the opportunity to slow their pace and gather their strength for when they would next need to surface.

“Alright, this is as far as it’ll take us. We’ve got to hoof it the rest of the way to the airship.” Colgate said, surprisingly very much in control of the situation.

“Are you sure this plan will even work? And where are we to go?” Octavia asked.

“I know a place…” Colgate said ominously.

Colgate peeked out through a storm drain. Unfortunately, there were a decent number of drones scavenging the area.

“Here’s the plan. We see the airship… and then we run to it.” Colgate said.

“Or how about you give me the keys to jumpstart the ship while you provide a distraction and make an opening for Octavia to use her crossbow with minimal chance of drawing attention?” Vance postulated.

“… Or we could go with that.” Colgate said, a bit flustered and giving Vance the keys.

“I’m not so sure I like this idea anymore. Is there any chance we could turn back and attempt to secure a living space to ride this out?” Octavia asked.

“Nope! LET’S DO THIS!!!” Vance shouted, shoving the 2 mares out into the open.

Vance dumped his companions on the street and shot straight for the airship, occasionally sucker punching an unfortunate changeling that was standing too close to his path. Things did not go so well for Colgate and Octavia. The changelings did their whole deal, copying the trio with little effort. While Colgate gladly leapt into battle, Octavia became paralyzed with fear, unable to get a single bolt off. Evil Vance clones spammed Octavia, knocking her weapon away. They tried to pull her out into the open air to permanently take her out of the fight, but Vance, seeing her predicament, flew back to help her. He had managed to get a firm grip on her back legs just in time, and began pumping his wings backwards to keep in place.

“Oh… no you… don’t!” Vance strained. “Colgate, can you lend me a hoof?”

“A little busy at the moment!” Colgate said amongst a pile of Vances, Octavias, and Colgates.

Vance could feel his strength getting sapped from him. Colgate was preoccupied and Octavia was incapacitated.

“I could sure use that deus ex machina now!” Vance shouted to Anyone who could hear him.

As if on cue, a massive surge of energy emanated from the Royal Palace, sending the swarm back to whatever lands they came from. Vance felt it as Octavia fell, the changelings no longer keeping her aloft. Vance lost his grip on one leg, so he redoubled his efforts to hold on to the other one.

“Don’t worry, Octavia! I got’cha!” Vance exclaimed.

“Vance.”

“Just hold on! Colgate will be here to help soon!”

“Vance!”

“I’ll hold on for as long as I can!”

“VANCE!”

Vance finally opened his eyes and looked down to see Octavia had two hooves firmly planted on a section of pavement below.

“Oh.” he said, letting go of her leg. “Hehe… sorry about that.” *awkward grin*

Colgate, having finally recuperated from being mobbed, rushed over to see that her two comrades were ok.

“Oh, good! I was starting to get worried there for a second!” Colgate said, relieved.

“Yes, this has been a most… interesting day.” Octavia said, retrieving her crossbow.

Colgate walked a short distance away from the other two, putting her hoof to her ear and muttering to herself.

“Another day, another apocalypse, eh?” Vance said, trying his luck at dry humor.

Octavia merely sighed and rolled her eyes. She was utterly exhausted. Colgate returned.

“Well I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m needed back at the palace. You two can take care of yourselves from this point, right?” Colgate asked.

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for all your help, Colgate.” Vance said.

“Yes, you both have made fabulous, if a bit unorthodox, company.” Octavia added.

“Ok. Take care!” Colgate said before leaving.

After watching Colgate rush down to join the party, Vance’s eyes caught on some peculiar cargo.

“Hey, you said this whole ordeal was over a wedding, right?” Vance asked.

“Yes. Why?” Octavia inquired.

“I’ve got an idea…”

~

As dusk began to settle, Vance glanced down towards the festivities. Apparently a near-apocalypse isn’t enough to stop a celebration.

“So what is it we’re waiting for, exactly?” Octavia asked anxiously.

“Figured I should give the bride and groom a proper sendoff. And since I can’t do so personally, this is the next best thing.” Vance replied.

Finally the moment arrived. The newlyweds loaded into their cart, and after the bride tossed her bouquet to a deranged unicorn mare standing near Colgate, the carriage took off.

“All right! Fire the mortars!” Vance ordered.

Octavia lit a bundle of fuses, watching the fires snake along to their payloads. The shells leapt into the sky and set it ablaze. It was a spectacular fireworks show for being cobbled together by two exhausted ponies that had little idea what they were doing. Vance even found one of those fancy ones that exploded into a giant heart shape.

“Congratulations, ponies I’ll probably never meet!” Vance said, waving at the shrinking carriage exiting the city.

Finally with all the day’s activities at an end, Vance and Octavia relaxed.

“So where are you vanishing off to now?” Octavia asked.

“Well now the shield’s down, so I think I’ll get out as soon as I can to avoid suspicious eyes. Not sure if my former employers have forgotten about me yet.” Vance said.

“Wait, so you’re not working for the military anymore? Then what happ-”

“We never were working for the army. Turns out its some shadow group that was manipulating us the whole time. When we found out, we fled. *deep inhale* They chased after us.”

Vance took out Cameroon’s emerald necklace and presented it to Octavia.

“Oh… oh my…” Octavia said, her voice starting to quiver. “So she’s…”

Vance nodded painfully. Octavia was now on the edge of tears.

“She told me to give this to you before sacrificing herself to save me. She died a hero.” Vance lamented.

Octavia choked back her sorrow and recomposed herself. You could still hear the pain in her voice, however.

“Keep it. Keep it as a reminder of who you’re fighting for. If you ever need anything, I’ll do my best to assist you. Merely promise me you’ll find and eradicate the monsters responsible for this.” Octavia said, seething with anger.

“I promise. She shall be avenged.”

“Good…”

Vance turned and began to make his way out of the city. Security would be focused on the party, so he shouldn’t have too hard a time escaping.

“And Vance?” Octavia called.

Vance turned his head back to the broken cellist.

“Take care of yourself out there, Vance.”

Vance complied and walked on.

~

Vance was indeed able to slip out of Canterlot without trouble, resuming his haberdasher disguise of a worn cloak coupled with Bynn’s scarf. It was excellent clothing for the freezing temperatures of the mountainous borderlands between Equestria and the Griffon Confederacy. Vance grew lax in his progress, leisurely strolling the lands, forgetting the dangers he faced on either side. This eventually proved to bite him in the flank. While walking one fresh morning in a coniferous area, Vance found himself between a rock and a hard place. Or to be more realistic, between some griffon commandos and some black ops pegasi. Vance was meandering along when an unimportant old foe dropped in one day, along with a new, not dead team.

“Well looky here! If it ain’t the same pegasus who killed off my old team!” the grizzled griffon said. “Where’re your buddies at?”

“Let’s not be rash, here. Does it look like I pose a threat to you?” Vance said, taking a step backwards.

“Hmm… nah. And that’s why you’re the perfect target.” the griffon said, his one good eye dilating with hatred.

“Wait, what happened to your eye? Last I saw it was perfectly fine.” Vance asked.

“An intense game of extreme underwater basket weaving, but that’s beside the point. Griffons! Go for the neck!”

“Kratí̱ste to!” called out a voice from behind Vance.

The black ops.

“Oh no… not you guys too!” Vance bemoaned.

“Wait, who are they?” the griffon asked.

“The ponies that did what you couldn’t…” Vance said in a hushed tone.

“Na ypanacho̱rí̱soun. Hermes échei skotó̱sei mas, grýpas apóvrasma!” shouted the black ops sergeant.

“I don’t know what you just said, but no!” retorted the griffon.

“Den epizó̱ntes!” the sergeant yelled before the black ops dove right for Vance.

Not to be outdone by some ponies again, the griffons got right into the fray. In the confusing pile-on, Vance managed to slip out and bolted for a more heavily forested area.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" the griffon called out.

"Gýrna píso̱!" shouted the sergeant.

Vance sprinted as fast as he could through the pine trees, careful to evade the prickly trees. The griffon (somewhat clumsily) pursued, matching Vance's pace, while the sergeant deftly breezed through the thickets. Vance checked behind him to see how far away his pursuers were when he suddenly found the ground beneath him no longer existed. Vance plummeted into the sinkhole a ways before gliding further inward, hoping to lose the chase in the caverns. Vance settled into a nice, dark, damp corner behind some limestone stalactites and waited patiently (and quietly).

"Xéro̱ óti eísai edó, Hermes..." the sergeant taunted.

A few moments later, the griffon, coated in tree sap and pine needles, stumbled into the room, quite dazed. The griffon tried to get out a witty one-liner, but the sergeant, having lost all patience with him, simply threw a small knife at him, which found a comfortable resting place in the griffon’s eye socket. Vance seized this opportunity to lunge at his assailant. Not expecting Vance to go on the offensive, the sergeant was quite roughly thrown up against the damp cavern wall. Vance made extra sure to secure the serrated knife before beginning his interrogation.

"Alright, who are you working for, what do they want, and why all the secresy?

"Pistév̱ete eilikriná óti tha páo̱ na sou po̱..." *chokes*

Vance pressed the serrated dagger tantalizingly close to the sergeant's throat.

"What is it you would like to know?" the sergeant said, doing his best to be cooperative.

"Who are you working for?"

"The Archaía Áloga."

"Well that doesn't help at all."

"I answered your question."

Vance pressed a bit harder.

"They're an old collection of unicorn mages. They're the descendants of those who ruled all ponydom in the Ancient Era."

"What do they want?"

"To regain control of Equestria, then reunite all pony nations and place us at our rightful position of dominant race."

"So then why all the secrecy?"

"You are not their chosen."

"And what does that mean?"

"Not even I am sure. My intel says you weren't their chosen and now you're a priority target, following Krínos."

There were still so many questions Vance wanted to ask, but he could feel the sergeant worming under the knife's edge. It was also almost guaranteed the black ops pegasi won the skirmish and would quickly and efficiently begin searching for their leader. It was time for Vance to leave.

"Sooo... can I go?" the sergeant asked.

Yank.

~

A long time later, Vance had continued winding along Equestria’s border, always keeping watch to ensure he wasn’t detected by any pegasus patrols or border stations. By this time he was hiking through the mountainous region separating Equestria from the Ancient Lands. Aside from one instance of a cloaked figure who seemed to have picked up his trail for a short while, Vance had never encountered anything dangerous. With nobody to talk to on his long road, Vance had to keep his mind occupied to prevent utter hilarious insanity from taking him. He had delved into the books Swash had let him have. They were surprisingly sophisticated tomes for a gruff pirate to have been in possession of, with subjects of experimental technology, Theology, and poetry. Despite his preparation with his maps, Vance soon found he had become dissoriented. One twilight, he looked up to the clouded sky and pleaded for help.

“Micia, if you’re up there, can you lend me a hoof?”

Whether it be divine intervention or luck of the draw, the clouds parted, revealing a brightly burning star off in the distance. With nothing to lose, Vance set off towards the star’s light, hoping it would bring him to where he would be safe.

~

A couple of nights later, Vance found himself wading through a swamp. The fog was thick and Vance soon lost his direction. He cursed himself for having trusted an entity he knew almost nothing about, thinking she was to blame. Suddenly, he heard something approach him. He became paralyzed with fear. He was in a strange land and knew nothing of it, and this time there was no Mercury Team or pirate crew to back him up. As the figure became more defined, he realized it was another pony. Finally he came into full view. He was a dull navy earth pony, with a black beret and a brown shawl.

“Qui êtes-vous?” this stranger asked.

“Uhh… Equestrian.” Vance said, pointing at himself.

*sigh* “Je vois. Venez avec moi.” the stranger replied, beckoning to Vance.

Despite not having any idea what this Prenchy said, Vance followed anyways, hoping he knew a way out of this swamp. After several minutes, they had gotten out of the murky waters and onto dry land. Glancing around, Vance could make out the figures of small towers, enveloped in fog. He began to wonder just who he had discovered as they arrived at the entrance of a cavern with a giant wooden gate and two guards.

“Regardez ce que j’ai trouvé errant dans le marais!” said his escort.

“Ha! Je n’ai pas pense que nous avons des réfugiés qui entrent en Prance!” said a cream colored guardmare.

Their jovial attitude didn’t make Vance any more comfortable. Walking through the cave, Vance finally was able to put two and two together. He had entered Prance, and was walking in the middle of a Prench Resistance camp. With a nervous gulp, he wondered just what he was being taken to. He was led through a tent flap into what looked like a command center. A serious-looking gray earth pony with a moustache was glancing over a table with a city of Prance pinned to it, surrounded by several other ponies.

“Un réfugié Equestrian, monsieur.” his escort announced.

“Merci. Laissez-nous s’il vous plait.” the gray officer replied.

When the retinue had left, the officer spoke to Vance in Equine.

“So tell me, what’s an Equestrian doing here in the middle of war-torn Prance?” he inquired.

“Well, sir, I’ve been roaming for quite some time, and I guess I just ended up here.” Vance nervously replied.

“One does not simply roam into Prance. You came here with a purpose, and I want to know what it is.” the officer demanded.

“Enough with the interrogation, Renéigh.” said a very familiar voice entering the room.

Vance spun his head around in time to see Vie enter the room. While Renéigh stood at attention, a smile spread across Vance’s face as he ran to give her a long overdue hug. A smirk appeared on Vie’s face as well, stunning Renéigh.

“It’s good to see you again, Vance.” Vie said with a sense of relief as he released her.

“You… know this stallion?” Renéigh asked, confused.

“Oui. He and I were part of the same unit when I was in the Equestrian military. Vance, this is Lieutenant Renéigh Bastille, my second-in-command.”

“So this is the famous Vance Vie’s told me so much of, or as your former comrade Stitch called you, ‘Stubbs.’” Renéigh said with a hint of disdain.

“I see my wings are in better shape than yours.” Vance returned, noting Bastille’s lack thereof. “Come to think of it, I’ve yet to see any other pegasi here.”

“That’s because there haven’t been any pegasi in Prance for generations.” Renéigh said.

“When the Prench schism occurred, very few pegasi went with them. And those that did tended to marry other variants of ponies as well. You’re the first pegasus in a very long time to set hoof on Prench soil.” Vie explained. “But enough history for now. You’ve come at a most opportune time. The Resistance is finally going to make a push to capture the city of Monacolt. If we are successful, it will greatly boost our morale and give us the resources we need to really fight back against the Oligarchs.”

“Good to see some things never change.” Vance said with sarcasm.

The three of them gathered over the map pinned to the table. It was of Monacolt and the surrounding geography. Vie had learned much of warfare since her time in Mercury Team, and Bastille had studied much as well, most of it first-hoof. Together, they formulated a plan of attack. Their target was the Governess of the city. If they could eliminate her, the remaining forces in the city would be crippled morally and easier to destroy. However, the Oligarchy’s army was simply too strong for their band of irregulars. Most of these ponies were never meant for war. Bastille himself was originally a baker!

“Okay, so how do you plan to get an untrained militia past some of the most hardened soldiers I’ve yet to see?” Vance asked, unhopeful of the situation.

“We’ll go right under their noses. The sewer system is large enough for ponies to access. The only issue we have is moving a small army through them without drawing the Noble forces’ attention beforehoof.” Vie explained.

“Another sewer. Grand…” Vance whined.

“This won’t take place for a while now. Communication is difficult between our separate strongholds, and gathering the needed soldiers will take some time.” Vie said.

“So what am I supposed to do until then?” Vance asked.

“Train the soldiers in guerilla warfare. Most ponies here are green as grass, and some have yet to see battle.” Vie said, regrettably.

“What?! It is my duty to train the stallions, not some étranger!” Bastille roared.

“Calmer, Lieutenant. You are not being replaced. Rather, you’re getting a new Major.” Vie said.

“WHAT?!” Vance and Bastille said simultaneously.

Vie was startled at their unified response. Not visually, of course, but startled nonetheless.

“I came here as a refugee, not a war asset! That, and I’ve never led anything bigger than a squad, and you well remember how loose the chain of command was!” Vance argued.

“How can you even trust this pegasus? You haven’t seen him since you were in Equestria last time! Is your romanticized imaging of him clouding your better judgment? Rappelez-vous l’etalon qui a combattu à vos côtés durant tous ces mois sur de simples promesses!” Renéigh protested, his mustache riveting from his Prenchiness.

“Don’t use languages I don’t understand! If you’ve got something to say to me, then say it!” Vance shouted, turning on Renéigh.

“Dragonnet! Vous êtes dans notre pays comme une faveur à Vie! Vous acceptez ce qu’on vous donne!” Renéigh snapped back, pressing his face against Vance’s, neither of them yielding.

“ENOUGH!” Vie shouted.

Vance and Renéigh immediately ceased, astonished at Vie’s noisy outburst.

“I don’t care your opinions on this situation! Vance, you need a place to hide, and here you can do that as well as working for a truly noble cause. Renéigh, you are beneath me in the chain of command. You will obey orders or I will have you imprisoned for treachery. We are close to a great accomplishment, and I won’t have the opportunity wasted because of a simple fight between boys!” Vie said staunchly.

What Vie wants, Vie gets.

~

Days rolled on by as preparations were made. Vance had finally encountered Vie’s enemies, the Chevaliers, while being shown the extent of Prance’s swampy marshlands and jungles where the Resistance made their home. Thinking back to Canterlot, they made Celestia’s Royal Guard look like standard fodder. The Resistance was hardly prepared to take on such intimidating foes. Oligarch earth ponies were covered in armor on their front, and in appropriate fashion were used as living battering rams that could break Resistance morale just at the sight of a charge. Their unicorns were more evenly covered and were trained in picking off single targets. Standard Resistance fighter of either subtype was unskilled and poorly armored, their numbers and fanaticism being their only strengths. This still did not make much progress, as the Oligarchy boasts their training regiments kill more Chevaliers than the Resistance does. Vance did his best to teach the Resistance all he could about stealth and sabotage, but given the language barriers, the intrigue into pegasi long absent from Prench blood, and the hot-headedness of the Resistance, progress was slow, to put it on the bright side. Bastille was more of a conventional face-to-face fighter, resulting in embarrassingly high casualty ratings, but popularity with his ponies for his bravery/foolishness. As time went on, the numbers they needed gradually trickled in, and the infiltration could commence.

~

Vance thought Canterlot’s sewers were bad. Monacolt’s sewers were a whole new level of nasty. The main garrison of the Oligarch troops were stationed at the city’s gates and a small navy protected the port, but nopony bothered to keep watch over the waste disposal, much to Vie’s pleasure and Vance’s disappointment. Vance had been tailing the main composition, being kept on a short leash by Bastille. Vie was probably already in the city, directing the soldiers around while the city was still waking up. When they finally did make it topside, Monacolt was already a warzone. The Resistance had entrenched itself in several heavily fortified and well thought-out dugouts, and with a large backing from the civilian population, it didn’t take long for the Resistance to throw the Oligarchy forces into chaos.

“Well it looks like you’ve got things pretty well handled here. You sure you needed my help?” Vance asked Vie in a café-turned-command post.

“Bien sûr! You may not know it yet, but you’re a natural leader. The troops are driven on by stories of the Equestrian who came to Prance’s aid when she needed it most. Well, I may have colored you in a favorable light when I used stories of our time in Mercury to inspire them in dark days.” Vie went on.

Bastille was checking the defensive line they had set up around their entrance point. The Oligarchs and even the Resistance had little organization going on at the moment, but everypony knew the ultimate target was the Governess. Skirmishes took place all over the city for the majority of daylight, the Oligarch forces attempting to gather and form a unified counter attack, and the Resistance picking off as many Chevaliers as they could. Vie, Vance, and Bastille slogged their way to the Governess’ palace, their speed impeded by the Resistance’s lack of discipline.

“Wow. For a high-value target, they sure didn’t seem to bother with defenses.” Vance said, noting the lack of guards on the grounds.

“Stay focused. We have no idea what could be inside. Just find the Governess, put her down, and win the day.” Renéigh said.

“Indeed, Vance. We mustn’t lose sight of our goal now. We have bigger things to be concerned with.” Vie added.

“You’ve been at this for a long time, haven’t you Vie?” Vance said, worried about Vie’s health.

“A humiliating string of defeats led up to this moment. This may be the last chance we have to make a difference. Let’s just say a lot is riding on today.” Vie said, mentally exhausted.

The trio along with a small squad of Resistance fighters entered the Governess’ Mansion. Vie and Bastille were accustomed to Oligarch frivolous spending. Vance, however, was in awe at the opulence of the mansion.

“Woah. Nice digs!” Vance said, noting the high ceilings, carefully cut stone arches, stained-glass windows, and polished marble flooring.

“‘Digs’?” Renéigh said, having never heard the phrase before.

“Fancy place.” Vance elaborated.

“Shh!” whispered Vie. “Chevaliers could be anywhere!”

“Like surrounding us?” Vance said, noticing the Chevaliers surrounding them.

“Er… oui…” Vie said, facehoofing.

“La victoire ou la mort!” Renéigh shouted, leaping into battle.

Vance and Vie quickly followed suit, and so began an epic battle of martial prowess. The Resistance fighters, as is there nature, were quickly eliminated from the equation. Vance, Vie, and Bastille carried on for a measure of time, the flow of battle being directed towards the Governess’ office. Vance kicked down one of the two grand doors using a Chevalier’s head. The Governess calmly rose to her hooves. Bastille joined Vance while Vie continued to hold off the remaining Chevaliers, a small silver dagger flying all over the hallway.

“So you’re the Governess?” Vance said, approaching the plain-looking unicorn’s generic look.

“And you’re an Equestrian?” the Governess replied with more than a hint of snoot and disdain.

Bastille was barely able to contain his rage. Here was the Governess, his hated enemy, and for whatever reason he found himself unable to act!

“Grah… Why is it that everypony in foreign countries can speak Equine?” Vance said, noticing the convenient linguistic knowledge of nearly every foreign pony he met.

“The story wouldn’t be nearly as interesting if we all spoke only Prench, now would it?” the Governess said, glancing towards the fourth wall and smirking.

“…? Who are you talking t-… oh nevermind!” Vance said, looking behind him, trying to see the audience she was addressing.

Finally, his rage unable to be contained any longer, Bastille launched himself at the Governess, knocking them both out the giant window she used to watch over the occupied city. Vance had the massive displeasure of being dragged by the face right out the window by the panicked Governess. Bastille managed to grab onto the windowsill while Vance and the Governess began tumbling towards the courtyard below. Despite the need to start flying to avoid an untimely demise, Vance also had to deal with a hooffight with the Governess herself. Despite her docile appearance, she could throw a mean right hook. Through force of will, Vance regained control of his wings, which the Governess promptly took advantage of, shifting her weight on top of Vance and beginning to pummel his head. In desperation, Vance began grazing a building, leaning so the Governess took the brunt of the friction.

“Y’know, for a politician, you’re pretty tough!” Vance said, taking a hoof to the face.

“And for a protagonist, you’re not doing too well!” she mysteriously replied.

They continued to fight viciously for several minutes.

~

Renéigh was beginning to lose his grip trying to hold on to the windowsill. Vie was still occupied by the remaining Chevaliers, and so could offer no assistance. Finally his stamina was exhausted and he began to plummet to the ground. He felt somepony grab his back left leg.

“Wow. You are SO lucky I’m good at timing these things!” Vance said to Renéigh.

“Yes, yes! You’re the big hero! NOW GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Renéigh shouted.

Vance complied and lifted Renéigh back into the palace. The Governess now dead, the Resistance wasted no time mopping up the remaining pockets of Oligarch forces with maximum prejudice. Vance watched the Fleur-de-Lis wave proud over the conquering soldiers. He returned to Vie and Renéigh.

“Well there you have it. One dead Governess and one revolution.” Vance said with a hint of dissatisfaction.

“Something wrong, Frère?” Vie asked.

“Was all this worth it? I mean, this was a lot of bloodshed and destruction just for one city. Will the end result even be worth the cost?” Vance redirected.

“You’re friend’s starting to sound like an Oligarch.” Renéigh interjected.

“Oh shut it, Lieutenant. Vance is right. We need to watch our step to ensure we don’t become the enemy we’re fighting.” Vie said while walking to Vance’s side. “Vance, would you do us the honor of placing our flag on top of the building?”

“I’d be honored to.” Vance replied.

Vance removed the Oligarchy flag of two unicorn horns crossed in front of a shield and replaced it with a tattered standard of three gold fleurs-de-lis. Vance said his farewells to the brazen Prench freedom fighters that he had just met and helped them besiege a city in a short period of time. While he still couldn’t understand what the hay they were saying to him, their faces were full of hope and gratitude, and that was enough for Vance.

“Plan on going on any more nomadic journeys anytime soon? We sure could use your help here.” Vie said jovially. “You’ve been an inspiration to our soldiers and an invaluable ally. If you ever need assistance, don’t be afraid to contact me, Frère.”

“Thank you, Vie. These are some of the bravest ponies I’ve ever met, and it was a true honor serving with them.”

Vie prodded Bastille, prompting him to give his gratitude.

“Oh,” *ahem* “ah yes. Err… Thhhhank… you. For all your… help.” Bastille mustered.

Vie rolled her eyes and smiled while Vance laughed at poor Renéigh’s attempt to share the spotlight with somepony else for once.

“Take care, Renéigh. Try not to die.” Vance jested.

With nothing left to say, Vance took to the Prench skies heading for home.

“Much as it pains me to say this, I might actually miss him.” Renéigh quipped. “Ok, I have to know. Is he really your brother?”

Vie laughed the loudest she ever had.

“No, of course not! He just reminded me of my own brother when I first met him. He was shy, yet so headstrong. He has the makings to become a great leader one day.”

“No arguments here. There’s some kind of air about him. One of hope. We were in short supply of that before today.”

“Indeed. Our work has only just begun.”

~

Flying back over the forests signifying the Prance/Equestria border, Vance could hardly contain his joy. For the first time since he had first set out for Baltimare those many weeks ago, he was going to see Fluttershy! Looking back to Prance, he could still see the faint glow of Monacolt’s fires still raging following the Resistance’s conquest of it. Looking upwards, he could see that bright star that had led him the Prance when he had lost his way. A parting gift from Micia. Looking ahead to Equestria, the moon dominated the cloudless night, shimmering brightly. Vance had finally returned home. Unbeknownst to him, a cloaked figure waiting patiently in the woods made note of his migration. Vance spent the next several hours casually flying through Equestria’s air, lazily drifting toward Ponyville and Fluttershy’s embrace. Oh, how he had missed Fluttershy. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest ever since the one he shared with her. As he entered the skies over Ponyville, he made a slow descent onto a familiar pathway. He took a moment to enjoy the feel of Equestrian soil beneath his hooves before sauntering the rest of the way home. Vance quietly slipped through the door, though this time Fluttershy wasn’t waiting for him on the couch. Vance grabbed a blanket and settled there for the remainder of the night.

~

While still peacefully sleeping, Vance heard a shrill cry pierce the air.

“VANCE!!” Fluttershy shouted before piling on to his semi-conscious body. “Oh I missed you so much! I thought about you every day you were gone!”

“I missed you too, Fluttershy…” Vance sleepily replied as Fluttershy tried to burrow into his chest with her nose.

“Tell me everything! I want to hear what you’ve been doing!” she said eagerly.

And so Vance relived everything he had been through, from his voyage with Swash to his encounter with the griffons to his involvement with the Prench Resistance, making sure to leave out key details that might reveal why he had to go through with them in the first place, and they even cross-examined their activities during the Changeling Crisis. Fluttershy was in awe for the majority of the time. All the exotic locales and the plethora of ponies he had met came to life in her mind. Vance had spoken a picture to her. More than that, a mural. Vance spent the whole day mesmerizing Fluttershy with his stories. Before they realized it, the sun had already begun to set.

“Oh my!” said Fluttershy. “We spent all this time talking and the day’s already gone!”

“To be honest, I’m glad. I’ve yet to spend a night alongside you since I left all that time ago.” Vance said, turning the mushy factor up with a suggestive grin.

Taking the super-overly-obvious cue, Fluttershy invited him upstairs for a ‘good night’s rest…’

~

A large unicorn was reclining in a grand chair, casually swirling a glass of red wine. He was staring into his fireplace, his mind abuzz with thought. A knock was heard at the door.

“Enter.” he said.

In walked a slightly scared green unicorn. Oculus.

*gulp* “S… Sir?” Oculus said.

“What is it?”

“…” Oculus pointlessly adjusted his glasses. “We’ve found Hermes.”

==========

Bonus points to:

Keystroke: for being my pre-reader

Author’s notes:

Hello, everypony! Dissoriented here with a few post-script items to add:

The 4th in the Strings of Fate series, I liked the openness of this piece, because I could whisk up whatever I wanted, as there aren’t many official maps of Equestria detailing her borders and what neighbors she may have. This gave me the ability to experiment with a multitude of ideas, which was a ton of fun.

Your experimental, faceless writer,

Dissoriented

Disclaimer:

“My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic” and its derivatives are the intellectual property of Hasbro©. I do not, nor claim to, have the rights to any and all intellectual property this story uses and is partly based on. Those who defied this were exiled… TO SPESS!!! And in spess, no one can hear you scream for ponies.

Comments

[ElrikPiro]

paint me like one of your prench mares.