• Published 12th Oct 2014
  • 3,852 Views, 518 Comments

DayBreak - MyHobby



After an attempt is made on Celestia's life, Twilight Sparkle must assemble a team to track down the assassin and bring her to justice. Danger awaits as they delve into the origins of both the attacker and alicorns.

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Awaken

Centurion Stonewall hovered over the hospital bed. The prisoner had been strapped to it, both to prevent her escape and to prevent her from hurting herself. The unicorn mare’s third-degree burns were severe enough that she was unable to move without extreme pain.

A nurse brushed past to change the patient’s medicinal drip. “Excuse me, Captain.”

“Centurion, please. Captain of the Guard is my title, not my rank.” Stonewall flicked an ear. “Can she talk?”

“Well, she can.” The nurse shrugged. “Whether she’ll tell you anything depends on her.”

The prisoner groaned. She opened her eyes and met Stonewall’s steely gaze. She smirked. “Hey. Looks like I’m a popular gal.”

Stonewall waved a wing. “It gets better.”

Princess Luna stepped out of the shadows. Her horn glowed, drawing the prisoner’s bonds tighter. “Miss Teacup. We need to talk.”

Teacup’s eyes jumped between the centurion and the princess. “I want an attorney.”

“You have that right.” Luna cinched the straps another notch. “I also have the right to protect the lives of my little ponies. Who are you working for?”

“Didn’t you read the docket?” Teacup sneered. “I work for Locksmith Security, on a contract operation for the Blueblood estate.”

“We are well aware of what you put on your résumé,” Luna said. “I want to know who contracted your criminal operations.”

Teacup noticed that her straps were especially tight around her forelegs. “Can I get a little wiggle-room here—Augh!

Sweat broke out over the mare’s brow as her burns were squeezed under the cloth wraps. She turned pleading eyes to the princess. “What are you—?”

“I am not here to play games, Teacup.” Luna scuffed a hoof. “I am here to help my friends, and if I must speak your language to do it, then consider me multilingual!”

“You can’t hurt me worse than I already am.” Teacup turned her head away. “I don’t have to tell you a single thing.”

Stonewall took a step forward, but Luna stopped her with a wing. “She’s right, you know,” the princess said. “We can’t make her talk if she doesn’t want to.”

Luna walked through the door with the soldier close behind. “But we can make her wish she had talked.”

Teacup laid her ears against her scalp. She rolled her eyes and settled back against her pillow, letting the quiet of the room lull her.

A shadow shifted. Teacup eyed it warily. She tried to reach for the light switch, but found herself restrained. She craned her neck to bite the strap, ignoring the swelling pain in her chest. Frustration built up as her attempts to get loose failed. “Come on you big, stupid, ugly—”

Talons slashed the straps with a single swipe. A mighty beak opened wide and roared with the ferocity of a maddened bear. Wings stretched out to every corner of the room, filling Teacup’s vision. She tumble from the hospital bed and crawled backwards, doing everything she could to get away. Her back thumped against the wall. There was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to hide.

Who are you working for?” Andean bellowed.

Teacup could only shriek in response.

Talons formed into a fist and crashed down beside the mare. “Speak or I will throw you from this mountain!”

“I work for Viscount Dulcimer!” Teacup covered her face. “I work for Hammer Dulcimer! He sent us to steal the Grimoire Alicorn!”

Andean’s brow furrowed. He glanced at the window, where Luna’s face could be seen. She shook her head. “What of the mirror?” he growled. “What of the magic mirror one of my own griffons stole? What does Dulcimer want with that?”

Teacup shook. She seethed as her bandages grew damp. “I can’t… I can’t… They’ll kill me.”

Luna unfolded from the shadows, her body morphing into a solid form. Her starry mane twinkled in the darkness. “Who will kill you, Teacup? Who do you fear?”

The prisoner coughed. Her sweat plastered her mane to her forehead. “Oh no. No, no, no. I‘ve failed them.”

Andean folded his wings across his back. He tapped his beak, then scraped a talon along the ground. The screeching noise made Teacup shudder. “You will tell us exactly who you refer to. You will tell us now.

She turned to them with wide eyes. An uneven smile crossed her face. “There are some things much scarier than death.”

She scrambled to her feet and jumped headfirst at the window. Luna caught her in a bubble of magic before she could connect. Teacup’s hooves pedaled in midair. “You can’t protect me! You can’t protect yourselves! You can’t even protect your stupid little diarchy! Equestria will return to the old days! We ponies will finally know freedom! Freedom!

Luna placed her forehead against Teacup’s, sending the unicorn into a deep sleep. She returned the prisoner to the bed and secured her tighter than ever. “That does not bode well. We shall double the guard on her and continue squeezing for information when we can.”

“What little she’ll give up,” Andean said. “She’s a fanatic. She is certain that her employers will murder her, yet she refuses to give them up. There is something far deeper and deadlier at work here than mere political power plays.”

Luna opened the door and ushered Stonewall in. “Please speak with Dr. Do about the Grimoire Alicorn. Ask her what it is, what it’s used for, and whatever else might come up. I’d like to have some idea of what Dulcimer intends for it.”

Stonewall saluted. “Should we send a squad to arrest him, Your Majesty?”

“You think he will still be at Blueblood Manor after the events of last night?” Luna breathed deep. “Have the police obtain a warrant to comb the mansion over. If Dulcimer left any trails, they shall find them. You are dismissed.”

Stonewall bowed her head. “Your Majesty. Your Grace.”

Andean tapped his talons on the floor. He turned away from the prisoner and hunched his way through the door. Two Blitzwings waited for him, their volleyguns held at the ready. He squawked in the griffon tongue. “Are the guards in place at the hospital?

Yes, Your Grace,” the one on the left replied. “Princess Stella’s room is heavily guarded, and will remain so throughout her surgery.

Andean rested his palm on his broadsword’s pommel stone. “Be sure of it, Captain Barbary. It will be your head if something were to happen to her.

I understand, Your Grace.” Crested Barbary gripped his volleygun tighter. “We have most of our forces concentrated on the hospital, with ten Blitzwings keeping watch over the Thunderhead. I trust you and Princess Luna will be headed there soon?

Aye,” Andean said. “It’s time to put any doubts about the assassin’s wingblades to rest. Have Grenadier Lanner report to the lab.

I’ll send him your way once I see him.” With that, Crested Barbary flapped into the air, headed for the hospital.

Andean breathed a sigh through his nose. He stared into the twilit east sky, where stars peered out of the purple horizon. He turned his bearded head to acknowledge Luna. “Princess. Our next step is to finally discover exactly what the blades are made of. What then?”

“Then we regroup.” Luna spread her wings and let the wind blow through her feathers. “If the team heals, they shall return to action and take down the commander once and for all.”

Andean shuffled his bear claws. “And if they do not heal?”

“Then… perhaps we shall hope for a miracle,” Luna said.

***

Commander Hurricane peered over the side of the commercial airship’s deck. She could spot a few pinpricks of lamplight below, but otherwise the landscape was made of flowing shadows. The whoosh of trees in the bitter cold wind of late autumn reached her ears as a hush fell over the ship’s engines.

Her hooves shook as she pressed against the railing. Her scar itched, but she pushed it from her mind. The Grove of Golden Apples lay somewhere below. She hadn’t been allowed to see where they’d gone, but she knew they were far from most city-states.

Poison struck deep, but if an antidote was administered…

“Do you feel it, Commander?”

Hurricane turned her head. She held a hoof to her forehead to keep her feathery bangs out of her cold, gray eyes. Merry Mare stood beside her, a yellow gemstone hanging from a gold chain around her neck. She had shucked her cloak in favor of a soft, fuzzy overcoat.

The former Mayor of Ponyville smiled. “The week after Nightmare Night is always… the most invigorating. It’s the time when the Unseelie Court operates at the peak of its power. It’s the time when those allied with the Unseelie Fae are most apt to reap the benefits of the alliance.”

Hurricane felt her stomach tingle as the airship dropped altitude. The landing lights revealed the flowing shadows to be a few trees that hadn’t lost all their leaves. A mountain appeared to be growing from the ground as they approached its side. She could pick out ponies waiting for them, ready to tie the ship fast to a series of waiting anchors.

A hitch snagged Merry’s voice as she said her next words, “This is a good day for the both of us.”

Hurricane frowned. She regarded the mare she knew as the Mother carefully. “You lost someone as well?”

Merry shrugged. “Haven’t we all? Haven’t we all wished for just one more minute?”

“More times than I can count,” Hurricane said. She braced her hooves as the deck shuddered. They’d come to a stop. “Far more than I care to admit.”

“No more, Commander.” Merry nodded towards the crew members. They lowered a gangplank for the mares. “Tonight, we are reunited.”

As they stepped from the ship to the rocky ground, a stallion bowed before them. “My lady, the Crone is already waiting for you inside. The Maid expresses her regrets that she is unable to attend the ceremony.”

“Thank you,” Merry said. “The Maid and I have already discussed her absence. You are excused.”

Hurricane flicked her eyes towards a movement on her right. She saw nothing but bare rock in the lamplight. Another flash in her peripheral vision drew her to the left, which revealed a similar emptiness. “Do you see—?”

“You’ll get used to it.” Merry waved her off with a limp hoof. “The fae folk are fond of mind games. Just ignore them.”

This time, Hurricane got a glimpse of two glowing eyes and a mist-like body before the being vanished. She swallowed what little saliva she was able to conjure. “As you say.”

A wooden archway led into the rock of the mountainside. Merry stood beside the entrance and held up a foreleg. “Shall we continue deeper?”

Hair stood up on Hurricane’s back. She brushed it down with a flap of her good wing. “That’s why we’re here.”

Her sore bones and torn flesh niggled at the back of her mind, unpleasant despite the painkillers deadening her injured limbs. The white light from the lanterns turned orange as they passed torches stuck fast to the wall. Water had naturally eroded the stone walls over several centuries, leaving them cool, damp, and smooth. Her ear stood erect at a faint skitter.

“These caverns were originally the location of a deep underground lake,” Merry said as they walked. “Rain would deposit water in the depression at the mountain’s peak, and several cracks would lead into its interior. Before you journeyed into Equestria, early diamond dog packs called it the Weeping Mountain because of the constant, small trickles of water that ran down its face.”

The end of the tunnel came into sight, flanked by two imposing guards wearing black masks. They tightened their stance at the Mother’s arrival. “But when the tears dry,” she said, “they leave behind something much stronger.”

Hurricane stuck her head through the opening and beheld a forest.

The cavern ceiling rose high into the air, and arched downward into mossy soil. Tightly-packed trees stood tall, their branches intertwining. Glowing threads ran through the rock face, tangled and spliced like roots. Dots of light flickered from within the canopy. Golden flashes caught her eye.

In the middle of the mountain, rising high above the other trees, was a massive apple tree. Its trunk was as thick as a house, and its branches were as sturdy as a suspension bridge. It towered all the way to the cavern’s roof. Its uppermost branches clawed at the solid stone as if in desperation, years of steady growth gradually tearing bits of the ceiling away.

“Centuries of erosion broke the stone into minerals, which all collected in the lake.” Merry gave the room a proud smile. “After a little care from the sirens, it became some of the most fertile soil in all of Equestria.”

Hurricane carefully walked down the stairs carved from the wall. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the monumental tree. “That… that has to be a thousand years old.”

“Roughly. Far before my time, at the least.” Merry’s hooves made a steady patter as she passed Hurricane. She reached the tree line a full minute before the commander caught up. “I think the most spectacular thing about it is that this all started from a single seed. A single golden apple.”

She reached up and plucked a shimmering fruit from a low branch. She tossed it to Hurricane. “Have a taste.”

Hurricane polished the apple on her coat. Her reflection appeared in the metallic skin. “It’s… safe to eat?”

“It’s not golden so much as it’s golden.” Merry snickered. “Go on. Eat it.”

Hurricane studied the Mother’s face. She glanced back at the fruit. With a deep breath, she opened her mouth and took a large bite.

Pain seared its way through her body.

Her muscles seized, causing her to tumble onto her side. The apple juice bubbled at her lips. It felt as though fire was burning its way through her fairy strings, turning her bones to ash. Her scar blistered, flaring red against her blue coat.

And then it was over. Hurricane took a breath and let out a hacking cough. “What the—?”

“Easy. On your feet.” Merry grasped Hurricane’s hoof and dragged her upwards. “The first apple is always a doozey.”

“What the blazes was that?” Hurricane snapped. She tossed the golden apple into the grove. “I felt like I was coming apart!”

“Hurricane.” Merry Mare grinned. “Look at yourself.”

Hurricane glared at her. She lowered her ears to her scalp and retrieved the thrown apple. She polished the juice away from the skin and examined herself. Her jaw dropped. “What—?”

Merry appeared over her reflection’s shoulder. “What do you see?”

“I see a mare…” Hurricane touched her face. “T-twenty years younger.”

The faint wrinkles and hard lines on her face had softened. Her eyes were that much brighter. Her forelimbs, already strong from years of care, had lost the subtle aches and pains brought on by age. Her bad wing still hung uselessly, and her scar still blazed, but there was definitely something… better.

“My Creator…” Hurricane whispered. “These apples… they provide youth.

“The Grove of Golden Apples is thus far the greatest gift we have received from the Unseelie Court.” Merry waved a hoof for Hurricane to follow her. “It keeps the wise young, and the young strong.”

They picked their way through the trees. Hurricane could see a number of other golden apples in the boughs; not enough for an army, no, but just enough to keep a few individuals alive indefinitely. With a steady supply, she reasoned, a pony could live for as long as any alicorn.

Hurricane blinked. Alicorn? Alicorn. “Sombra had a golden apple, didn’t he?”

Merry Mare raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“That had to have been an ingredient,” Hurricane mumbled. “He had a golden apple elixir, at the least. Why else would he have had dealings with the Unseelie Court?”

“What Sombra did or did not do is of little consequence all these years after his death.” Merry curled her lips. “Unless you have something new to add?”

“I suppose not,” Hurricane said slowly. She met the Mother’s eyes with a smirk. “I am merely connecting a few of my own dots.”

Merry shrugged, her gray mane bobbing against her forehead. She paused, holding up a hoof. “Hear that?”

Hurricane strained her ears. She could hear it just fine. All around were sounds of clicking nails, shuffling feet, muffled giggles, and hissing leaves. Shadows defied the torchlight, moving of their own volition. A bitter chill ran down her spine. “Aye.”

“It’s the fae. They know something’s happening.” Merry laughed quietly. “And they want a front-row seat.”

Hurricane tapped her teeth together. “That ‘something’ being…?”

“It’s why we’re here, Commander,” Merry said. “We’re here to speak with our departed loved ones.”

She pushed aside a curtain of branches and let Hurricane through. The commander stepped into a clearing right before the largest tree. It was a patch of pleasantly-soft grass, around which several ponies sat, hoods pulled low over their faces. They each appeared to have several shadows which danced and wiggled, though the ponies held still. In the middle was a wide, shallow basin, empty save for a little puddle of water. The pony that stood beside it lifted her hood, revealing a pale orange, wrinkled face. “Sister, it is good to see you.”

“You as well, sister,” Merry said. “Are we ready to begin the ceremony?”

“Almost,” the wizened mare said. “We’re still waiting on an appearance from the Master.”

Hurricane looked behind the mare, at the giant elder tree. Most of the bark was dark and healthy, save for one spot near the bottom of the trunk. A mirror had been embedded into the healthy wood, around which the bark died and peeled away, and the wood decayed to worm food. The mirror was a work of art, with a swirling golden frame and carefully-etched reliefs of various creatures.

She looked straight at the mirror, but saw no reflection at all; just an empty void. “That is where he is trapped, is it not?”

Several hooded faced turned to her at the sound of her voice. She refused to be intimidated. “This is the very portal we seek to unlock, is it not?”

The wrinkled mare pressed prune-ish lips together, but Merry placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Relax,” Merry said. “Yes, this is the mirror itself. On the far side lies a dead and empty universe, a prison fit for no one. Not unlike the one you were banished to, I suppose.”

Hurricane sneered.

Merry maintained an appearance of calm. She patted the older mare beside her. “You may refer to the elder sister as the Crone. She is the oldest and wisest of anybody here.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I believe she even predates the Founders. Is that right?”

“After a fashion,” the Crone said. “Kinda depends on how you wanna look at it.”

Hurricane narrowed her eyes. “And what do you mean by that?”

“It means that when I say ‘Starswirl the Bearded was a complete idiot,’ I’m speaking from personal experience.” The Crone patted her curly mane. “That good enough for you?”

Hurricane glanced at the mirror. “How long must we await his arrival? Must we summon him, or do we wait for his convenience?”

The Crone rolled her eyes. “Is she new at this, or is she just a dipstick?”

“Chill.” Merry stared into the void, then moved to the edge of the clearing. “The Master knows what we plan, Hurricane. He will come at the precise moment when it is prudent for him to do so.”

Hurricane’s wispy white mane fluttered around her face in the presence of a slight breeze. She looked up to see two yellow eyes shining out of the darkness. She yelped and reared up, flinging the creature from her back. It skittered back into the grove, leaving her with a heaving chest.

“Aw, did the big, bad boogeyman scare the legendary warrior?” The Crone chuckled. “You’ve really gotta get a grip—”

The Crone gagged as Hurricane grasped the collar of her cloak. “I’ll get a grip,” the commander hissed, “and I can start with you.

The Crone’s eyes widened. She searched Merry’s face for any hope of help.

Merry breathed on her glasses and wiped away the fog. “It isn’t wise to upset a mare who can snap you in half without breaking a sweat, sister. You’re giving the wisdom of age a bad name.”

The Crone gave them her best smile. “How about I focus on completing the ceremony, and you can put me down gently? Please.”

Hurricane let the Crone drop. She backed away slowly. “I am out of my element, Crone, not my league.”

“Proof positive,” the Crone coughed. She pulled her hood back over her face and resumed a more dignified posture.

Hurricane watched the faces of the other hooded figures. There was nopony that she recognized. No celebrities, no public officials, no soldiers of note. About all that united them was that they were ponies, unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies. Perhaps the higher members of the organization were going about their jobs, while the lower echelons acted as servants, or as students.

A low rumble came from the blank mirror. A cheer rose from the shadows.

Hurricane swallowed hard as the feeling of panic intensified. Her limbs froze and her heart raced. She tried to look away from the sealed portal, but found her eyes locked tight. A roiling mist appeared in the glass, followed by two greedy green eyes. They bored into her, laying out every mistake, every error, and every misdeed she had ever done or thought of doing. Her good wing spread for flight, but her hooves remained planted in the soft grass.

Proceed.

Some would call it the Royal Canterlot Voice. Some might say it was the sound of a mountain crumbling. Others would call it the personification of sheer terror.

Hurricane knew it as the voice of the Master.

The hooded figures bowed as one, and were joined by Merry and the Crone. Hurricane followed suit, trying to ignore the unnatural way the shadows all stretched towards the mirror.

The Crone stood first. She lifted a hoof to gesture for the others to rise. Hurricane got to her feet quickly, narrowing her gaze on the basin, where the magic would happen.

From the depths of her cloak, the Crone produced a series of jars. A pinch of this herb was thrown in, a dash of that root mixed in, a hoof full of that powder added. The water at the bottom of the bowl darkened.

Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah,” the hooded figures sang. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.

The Crone gave Hurricane a wide smirk.

“Welcome to the Grove
To greater depths we dove
In the dark of night
Where secrets come to light”

Fae danced all around, their bodies taking on freakish, grotesque shapes. Impossible amounts of limbs, jaws the size of their body, tails that doubled over, claws with split nails; always shifting and twisting and writhing.

The Crone tossed a purple jar into the concoction. The liquid flashed, releasing a cloud of shimmering rainbow.

“Making death your slave
Rising from the grave
Binding tight their soul
To yank them from Sheol”

Hurricane shielded her face from the flash. She lowered her hoof to see one of the fae hand a golden apple to the Crone. The crone lifted it into the air, her cloak and mane waving in the magic force generated from the basin.

“We will cast a spell
So they can hear our voices
We’ll hear them as well
A message straight from Hell

“Heed our command
You’ve been summoned
Take a breath once again!”

The Crone produced a knife and sliced through the golden apple. The juice fell down, down, down into the basin, where it mixed into the brew. She knelt down, took a deep breath, and looked to Hurricane. “Who would you like to speak to?”

Hurricane’s legs trembled. “P-princess—” She cleared her throat. “Queen Platinum.”

The Crone looked to Merry, who nodded. She spread her forelegs and let the cloud of magic drift around her. “By the power of our almighty Master, by the will of the Unseelie Court, and by the might of the Siren Sisters, we call to you, Platinum, come forth!”

The brew rippled. A high, bloodcurdling moan split the air. A translucent, ghostly, bony hoof rose from the center of the basin, followed soon after by a sunken, dilapidated pony face. The hollow eye sockets stared through Hurricane as the dead pony turned. “Hurricane! Hurricane!

Hurricane’s stomach churned. Her heart leapt into her throat. She fell to her rear as the rest of the ghastly creature emerged from the basin. “Platinum? Oh, Platinum, what happened?

“Hurricane!” the thing cried out, as if it hadn’t heard her. “Why did you let us die? Why didn’t you do something?”

“I am sorry!” Hurricane dove forward to kneel before the animated corpse. “I am sorry, Platinum my friend, I tried! I tried so hard, thou knowest it! Thou knowest!

The dead pony hovered over the brew on unsteady hooves. “You let us die, Hurricane. You failed us! Each of us is dead because of you!”

“I am trying to fix it!” Hurricane grasped her hooves together. “I am trying to fix my mistakes! I will make the Equestria we dreamed of! I will eliminate all traces of Sombra! I will destroy anybody who would pervert our beautiful land!”

The Crone took careful steps backward, putting as much distance between herself and the grotesque being as she could. She bumped against Merry’s chest, and sucked in a breath when the Mother wrapped her foreleg around her shoulders. “You did well,” Merry said. “It’s going just as the Master said.”

The Crone gave her a nervous smile. “I gotta say, if I never summon the dead again, it’ll be too—”

A piercing note struck the Grove. Everyone present pressed their hooves over their ears.

The corpse fell silent. It looked upward, ignoring the commander at its feet.

Blinding light shot downward and obliterated the dead pony, the brew, and the basin all in a single flash. The shockwave blew Hurricane head-over-tail as the hooded ponies tumbled to the ground. Merry Mare flew through the air to smack her head against a tree, sending her into unconsciousness. The Crone covered her eyes and skidded to a stop in the rich soil, screaming all the while.

The Master glared into the light, let out a furious bellow, and then vanished from the mirror.

Gentle song followed, filling the silence left by the scattering fae. Hurricane couldn’t make out the words, only sure that it was sung in an unfamiliar language. She brushed her mane from her eyes and gaped.

The white light remained where it was, forming a pillar that led up to the roof and beyond. Fairy dust drifted like sparks from a fire, landing lightly on the grass, the prone bodies, and the tip of the commander’s nose. She wrinkled her forehead.

“Hurricane?”

Hurricane’s ears perked at the sound of a voice she knew so very well. She looked to the pillar with her lips parted. “Platinum? Is it… is it truly thee?”

A faint shape appeared against the light. A pony’s hoof became distinct, followed by a familiar silhouette. A carefully coiffed mane danced around a brilliant white face. “Hello, Hurricane.”

The Crone staggered to her feet despite her wobbly knees. The other hooded figures kept low, looking to their leader. She gaped at the blinding light before waving her hooves in a haphazard pattern. “Uh, um, behold the power of, um, our almighty Master, Am—!”

“Silence, foal!” Platinum shouted from the pillar. “Thou and thy kind have no power here!”

The Crone ran through the trees, the other hooded ponies hot on her heels.

Platinum turned softer eyes on her old friend. “Hurricane—my dear, dear companion Hurricane—why hast thou sought to awaken me from my slumber?”

Hurricane blathered. She looked around the clearing, her eyes coming to rest on Merry. “I do not understand. It was all a trick?

“It was a false hope they had been given, Hurricane.” Platinum shook her head. “To awaken the ones who sleep is not for mortal ponies.”

Hurricane blinked tears from her eyes. She lifted her head to her friend. “Then how is it that thou art here?”

“Because thou hast been given a gift very few ponies ever receive.” Glistening dust flew from Platinum’s coat. “Use it wisely.”

Hurricane felt a soft touch on her scarred cheek. The pain went away. “Why… I want…”

“Why hast thou awakened me from my well-earned rest, friend among friends?” Platinum asked.

Hurricane lifted her foreleg to touch Platinum, but couldn’t quite reach her. “I—I wished to speak with thou. Even if… if just for one more time. I wished to say that I am sorry. I am so sorry, dear companion. It was not my wish for you to… to…” She clutched her hooves tight to her chest. “I wanted to save you.”

She drew herself up and hardened her face. “But I will not allow my failure to destroy Equestria. I shall fight for everything we sought to achieve. Freedom for ponies, justice for the downtrodden, strength for the outcast. I have…” She swallowed before continuing. “I have made many mistakes. Many. But I shall undo them as best I can. Any way I can. I swear I will make it up to thee.”

Platinum’s eyes grew tight. She shut them completely and sighed. “Friend among friends…”

“Thou… Thou rememberest the time?” Hurricane brushed her hoof against her scarred cheek. “When I was bitten by the vicious serpent. Thou fought tooth and hoof to drive the venom from my body. I cannot repay such a kindness, not in a thousand lifetimes. But I can try, can I not?”

“Oh Hurricane,” Platinum breathed. “What hast thou done?”

The commander’s ear twitched. “To what dost thou refer?”

Platinum was quiet for a long moment. “I know of Celestia. I know all that hath been done to her. I know all that thou didst do to bring about her birth. I know that thou hath tried to slay her.”

Hurricane gritted her teeth. “Many years ago, when the windigos were at their strongest, Sombra came to me for the salvation of Equestria. We—Starswirl had given the prophecy of the alicorns, and we thought…” She looked away. “Celestia and Luna were the result, but they were pawns in Sombra’s plan to ascend himself. I am sorry I hid this from thou, but I wanted thou to believe. I wanted thou to believe that there was hope for Equestria.”

She bowed her head. “But it was a mistake.”

“Hurricane,” Platinum said, “stop.”

The commander jerked her head back. “What?”

“Dost thou not see what thou art doing?” Platinum’s chest shuddered. “Dost thou not see what thou hath wrought?”

Hurricane spread her good wing. “I—I have failed in the past, but—”

“No, dost thou not see it?” Platinum pressed her hoof against Hurricane’s chest. “Thou attempted to slay Celestia, Hurricane. She. Is. Thy. Child. Thou hast allied thyself with the Unseelie Fae. Thou hast slain countless soldiers of your country. Thy mistakes are not those of ancient, bygone days. They are now.

“I’m fighting for a free Euqestria!” Hurricane stomped a hoof. “Just like thee and I worked for!”

“Equestria was never about freedom!” Platinum tilted her nose downward. “It was about peace and security for our little ponies. The freedom came later, when Celestia took the throne.”

“She took thy throne! She stole it out from under the hindquarters of thine offspring!” Hurricane’s voice grew hoarse. “She spat upon all that we had worked for and set herself up as a tyrant!”

“She saved our little ponies!” Platinum reached out to take Hurricane’s hooves in her own. “She took charge when all we would have done was dissolve back into our own little tribes again. Claim if you must that she was not the prophesied alicorn, but know that she was indeed our salvation—”

“No!” Hurricane took a step back. “She’s stifling them! Controlling them! Keeping them from—”

“Thou tried to kill her! She is thy child, Hurricane! Thy child!” Tears dripped down Platinum’s shining face. “How couldst thou do that to sweet little Celestia?”

Hurricane grabbed the sides of her head. “Dost thou not realize that I do this all for thee?

“Dost thou not realize that thou hath erred far greater than if thou hadst merely lied?” Platinum wiped her face. “Hurricane, thou must not mourn for me.”

“How can I not?” Hurricane threw her forelegs out. “How can I not mourn the death of the friend I love so dearly?”

“Because thou hast destroyed thyself out of sorrow,” Platinum said. “Thou hast not fought to save Equestria, but to give it greater turmoil than in the days of the windigos.”

Heat ran to Hurricane’s cheeks, singeing her scar and causing it to itch. She forced quick, hot breaths through her teeth. “Thou speakest such evil of me? Wherefore dost thou strike such a cord?”

“I have come to give thee a gift, Hurricane.” Platinum bit her lip. “It is not so that thou may speak with me, but that thou might be given a warning.”

Hurricane’s jaw strained as she held back a growl.

“If thou travel along thy path to its conclusion,” Platinum said, “thou wilt destroy all that thou loves. Every last thing. All thy friendships, all thy country, all thy works. Nothing good shall remain after thou hast finished thy evil deeds.”

“You lie!” Hurricane shouted at the top of her lungs. “I shall demolish Celestia’s Equestria and rebuild it to our liking! I shall return it to the glory days of old! I shall rekindle the fire—”

“And burn everything to the ground.” Platinum drifted upwards, towards the light. “Hear the words I say, Hurricane. Celestia’s Equestria is our Equestria. It’s everything we ever hoped for.”

“Thou art the same as Starswirl, who let the Crystal Empire vanish into nothingness!” Hurricane shook her foreleg. “Thou art the same as Clover, who banished me to darkness for a thousand years to keep me from achieving my just vengeance! I should have had revenge then, and I shall still avenge thee now!”

“Clover was protecting the both of you.” Platinum lowered her ears. “It was an accident—”

“Lies! Thou art not Platinum! Thou art not my friend!” Hurricane tore up clumps of grass to throw at Platinum. “Thou art a false ghost sent to torment me! Thou art nothing! Nothing!”

“I am thy friend!” Platinum shouted. “Every hour spent with thee wert bliss! But I had to move on!”

She thumped a hoof against her chest. “I chose to sacrifice myself to save Celestia’s life. I chose to stop my son’s spear point. It was my life to give, and I knew it was better served defending that which I love.”

A smile touched the edged of her mouth. “And now… now all is peace. Now all is joy and restful sleep. No tears, no trials, no fighting. Just friends and song.”

Tears ran down her cheeks, meeting at her chin, where they dripped to the ground. “But here… here, there will always be regrets.” She held out a hoof to her friend. “I have missed you, Hurricane. I am saddened to say that this is the last time we shall ever speak.”

Hurricane’s hoof bumped against the golden apple the Crone had sliced. She picked it up and hefted it. “If it pains thee so much to return to this world…”

She threw it with all her might. “Then go back to Hell where you belong!”

The apple thumped against a tree trunk and thudded against the soft ground. The Grove of Golden Apples was dark as night, with only the apples themselves offering any hint of light. Hurricane screamed until her lungs burned. She stormed off into the trees, seeking the exit to the mountain cavern.

***

Merry Mare came to in a comfortable bed. The world moved beneath her, rocking gently. She opened her eyes and found herself in one of the airship’s cabins. The Crone sat a few meters away.

Merry lifted her head, but settled back down due to the pain. “What happened?”

The Crone tapped her hooves together. “We were invaded by members of the Seelie Court.”

What?” Merry threw the covers from her body and staggered to her hooves. She nearly tumbled onto her face before the Crone caught her. “How? How is that possible? How could they have gotten through the fairy rings? The dream catchers? The Master himself would have been unable to break in!”

“It gets worse.” The Crone pressed Merry back onto the bed, her wrinkled legs surprisingly strong. “It’s… it’s honestly something that we should not speak of openly.”

Merry glanced around the room. She lowered her eyebrows. “You’ve removed the mirrors?”

“Yeah. We’re completely cut off up here.” The Crone rubbed her tired lavender eyes. “If I’m being honest, I’m having a slight crisis of faith. The Master’s recipe didn’t work.”

Merry picked her glasses off a nearby nightstand and set them on her muzzle. “You’re saying the apparition we summoned wasn’t Princess Platinum?”

“I’m saying I’m not sure if our ghost was the real thing…” The Crone shrugged. “Or if the Seelie Court’s was.”

She nibbled her lip. “Merry… Have you ever known the Master to lie?”

Merry pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. With impunity. But never to us. Never to his sirens.”

The Crone shuffled her hooves. “So are we just going to assume he had a good reason?”

“I assume he was attempting to coerce Hurricane into deeper cooperation.” Merry’s face darkened. “And he lied to us to make the deception all the more real.” She flicked an ear. “Where is Hurricane, currently?”

“I haven’t seen her since the Seelie Faes’ attack.” The Crone cleared her throat. “We were overwhelmed, and she disappeared after they left.”

Merry flopped onto the bedspread. “If she believes she was deceived, we may have just made a very dangerous enemy.”

“So… our options are to track her down and destroy her, or try to convince her that she was tricked by the Seelie Court, rather than our own?”

Merry pressed her hooves together and glared at the ceiling. “I think I like the second option better. Track her down, yes, but don’t use all our resources. We have to be ready to pounce the instant Nightmare Moon shows her true colors. A single miscalculation will spell disaster.”

The Crone sighed. “And a single loose thread will unravel the tapestry.”

“Ha.” Merry gave the other siren a half-hearted smile. “Lanner worked with her to steal the magic mirror. Have him search for her. He can’t exactly return to Andean in his current condition.”

“Sounds good.” The Crone placed her hoof on the door handle. “Any other pressing business?”

Merry shook her head. “Caution will finish Celestia off, Twilight Sparkle is weak and ill-fit to defend herself, Luna has gone insane, and Cadence is sure to crumple under the pressure. All we need to do is neatly slide the Master into the void left by the deposed alicorns.”

The elder mare rolled her eyes. “We’re putting an awful lot of faith in a being that we don’t really trust.”

“Trusting people got you where you are today.” Merry lifted a dubious eyebrow. “Don’t make that same mistake, sister.”

“Don’t worry,” the Crone said. “I’m even less likely to trust a fae with the power to control the sun and moon.”

“Smart girl,” Merry replied. “But I still like our chances.”