Chapter Thirteen: Frost
Chapter Thirteen: Frost
Oh come on, people. I'm sure some of you already guessed. It really wasn't that hard. He left a lot of hints.
Now, how're we doing for time...? Two minutes. The wonders of telepathy...
Well, your time is valuable, and so is mine. Let's not get to wasting it. I'll just let this go on until nine or so...
Join me.
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<====ooO Ooo====>
“I-I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right.” Rig shook her head. “You said you sold that knife thing-”
“Balisong,” Grimm corrected.
“-balisong to him?”
He nodded, still sitting with his forelegs crossed. “YYYYYYep.”
“And... this was before the Great War?”
“YYYYYYep.”
“The Great War that was over one-hundred-fifty years ago?”
“YYYYYYep.”
Rig stared at me. “Uh, Frost?” She shook her head wildly before exclaiming. “What?!”
“What what?” Grimm, still flaming, raised an patch of skin where I think his eyebrow used to be.
“What?” She looked at him now.
“Yeah, what what?” He nodded, looking down at her.
“Um... what?” The cybermare stared at him incredulously.
“Rah...” The ghoul facepalmed. Ah, helmetpalmed. “What do you mean by 'what?'”
“I mean... what the hay, Frost!” She turned back to me now. “You're that old?”
It occurred to me just how easily I could have lied my way out of it. But...
“There are ties that bind, Frost. There are also lies that bind.”
“Give me something to believe in.”
“Wait, he never told you?” Grimm squawked. “Really? I mean, I'm surprised myself that he's still alive, but he never told you he's that old?”
“I had my suspicions,” Azrael spoke, seating herself as well. “So. Explain, Frost.”
I sighed softly, a weight upon my heart and a gnawing at my gut. The spotlight was on me now. I never felt stage fright before, but I imagined it felt like something akin to what I was feeling now. It was like I was plummeting straight down into an unseen abyss. Yet I was still standing upright, standing firm. It made me sick.
Well... here goes.
“I'm not just fifty-two years old, Azrael,” I told them. “I'm two-hundred-seventeen.”
“What else have you lied to us about?” she inquired further. She was unshakably calm, and somehow that scared me more than if she had been outraged. Rig just stayed quiet, eying me. Her photoreceptor bore into me. The world grew hazy. Vertigo knocked on my door.
“Quite a few things,” I spoke, trying to maintain as even a tone as I could. It wasn't easy.
“Such as?”
The dropping, the dizziness, the weight- it was unbearable. Find a way out. Escape. Evade. Dodge. Avoid. “Look, I... I have my reasons for lying to you.”
“And everyone else,” Azrael added. “I'm quite aware, Frost. Otherwise, you wouldn't have lied in the first place. Answer the question.”
“Quite a few things,” I answered bitterly. My heart was fluttering worryingly in my breast. “I-”
“Ooh, confession time!” Grimm squealed, shaking his fists in front of him giddily. “I want in on this!”
I glared hoof-and-a-half swords at him. My voice simmered with the force of the heat on me. “You're not making this any easier.”
“I know!” he giggled. “Now go on.”
I maintained my glare, drew in my breath. “No.”
“Um... what?” The ghoul blinked.
“What what?” Rig snorted.
“Don't start with me,” he growled. “I'm on fire.”
“Must you really do this now of all times?” Azrael snapped. “You're making it harder for me to resist killing you.”
“Well hey, I can't help it.” Grimm shrugged simply, holding his claws up defensively. “They call me Javahl for a reason.”
“Why not, Frost?” Rig asked me. “That bad?”
I bit my lip, the flesh so dry and cracked from the heat that my razor-sharp teeth made them bleed. I licked at the blood, focusing on the coppery taste as the memories started surging back. I fought them down, beat them back, made them submit to my will.
“Frost?” she called out to me again.
“Rig,” Azrael spoke. “He's wearing Lunar Guard armor.”
“I don't see how that has to do with...” Rig paused, her eye and photoreceptor widening. “Oh...”
I breathed deeply, my jaw quivering. I was the master of my own mind. It would do as I commanded it. I swallowed hard. Weight, so much weight on my heart. Turning, so much turning in my guts.
“Yeah,” I said simply. “It's that bad, Rig.” The cyber looked away. She was having mixed feelings about me, I could see it. “I don't wish to talk about it.”
“And denied,” Grimm laughed. “How do the robopony and giant black griffin... pony... thing reply?” Azrael glared at him, reaching for Valkyrie. “Hey, don't mind me. I'm just making commentary. “Plus,” He jerked his head in my direction, “he has on you on a leash like a good, little-”
“Grimm,” I spoke, voice deadly low.
“Mm-hm?”
“I have you on a leash, too. You're still alive only because I will it. Don't test me.”
“Oooh... touchy.” He dipped his head, grinning devilishly behind his helmet. “Oh, and I'm still on fire. You don't test me.”
“That reminds me,” Rig spoke up, her horn flaring brightly. A bright, gray flash went off and the griffin ghoul widened his eyes as his cosmonaut suit teleported away, leaving him bare. His claws grasped at his not-flaming chest in disbelief.
She did have a lovely smirk.
And he did have an uneasy smile.
“... how come you didn’t do that before?” I blinked at her. At the very least, it was a distraction.
“Because it’s a lot, lot harder to teleport moving object,” Rig answered. “Especially big ones. Trust me.”
“So is this a matter of resolution?” Azrael finally asked. Looks like she hadn't forgotten the matter at hoof after all...
“Few would hope to understand,” I exhaled. This was going to be another day of sighs. I could just tell.
“Frost, I've come to understand thousands upon thousands of living things in the time I've been alive,” the ebony griffin spoke, maintaining her calm. “Try me.”
“You haven't come to understand somepony from before the Great War,” I rebutted firmly.
“So you really are that old...” Rig whispered.
“Well you're rather slow on the uptake, aren't you?” Grimm snickered. I stared blankly at him. “Hey, is it too much to ask to enjoy a little humor at the expense of others?”
Azrael eyed me. “Are you going to tell either of us eventually?”
I sighed dryly, closing my eyes. I remembered my promise. I opened my mouth to-
I could break it. Everything was still salvageable. They only knew my true age and the possibility that came with my armor. Nobody else had to know. Nobody else could know. I closed my mouth. Then I-
Then I remembered Her, how She looked so, so sad. Those eyes full of everything were sullen and hopeless.
“Give me something to believe in.”
My heart pounded as I opened my mouth once more. “Yes.”
“When?” Azrael inquired without missing a beat.
I kept my eyes closed. “After this. After we get the water talismans for Stable Three.”
“May I at least ask a few things...?” Rig asked.
I opened my eyes to look at her. One eye- brilliant, indigo. The other- a glaring aperture ringed by smooth metal. Flattening my lips, I answered, “You may,” She started to open her mouth, “but I may not answer them.”
“Ouch, burned,” Grimm chuckled.
“Are you a Lunar Guard?” Rig inquired, ignoring him.
Our eyes remained locked. “No.”
The earth-coated unicorn's eye narrowed in confusion. Her photoreceptor even contracted in mimicry.
“Were you a Lunar Guard?” she questioned further.
I rolled my jaw around tensely. “Yes.”
“The plot thickens...” Grimm whispered, waving his claws. “Ooooo...”
“So you knew Princess Luna?” Rig asked. “Personally?”
My jaw tightened as I felt my gut drop lower. “Y...” I paused, sighing. “Yes.”
“And Princess Celestia?”
“Yes.” Easier.
Rig regarded me for a few seconds. “What were they like?”
“I don't want to talk about it,” I spoke quickly, firmly, almost in a growl. My mouth felt dry. Then, I relented. “Just... not yet. Not yet.” The weight on my heart grew heavier.
“So your... eyes, your teeth... they weren't biologically inherited, were they?”
“No.” Easier again. For now.
“Are they natural?”
And there it was. “No.” Before she could move on, I held up a hoof to stop her. Then, I pressed it against the eye-shaped gem on my breastplate. “In moon’s shadow.” The deep-blue iris slowly drained of color, shifting to a duller tone as I let my hoof fall. I knew what they would see. My coat would lengthen and turn an ashen gray before their eyes. Tufts of fur would pop up on my ears as they tapered over ever so slightly. My amber eyes would only gleam brighter. I knew this because every sense grew all the more acute. My ears twitched with the slightest noise. My vision grew sharper, the dull world brighter. My nostrils burned, overloaded by the dead heat around us. The lingering, smoky taste in my mouth intensified. I felt the dull, throbbing warmth of the smoldering earth around me through my horseshoes. Lastly, I felt powerful- so, so powerful. “And yes.”
“Dude,” Grimm pointed, “that's creepy.”
“I... gotta say I'm with you on this one,” Rig agreed, staring. “Um... yeah, that's all I got, I think...”
“How did you and Grimm meet?” Azrael inquired suddenly.
And there I was, thinking it was over. “I was in Aldorna before the Great War,” I told her, my eyes and voice hardening “Back then, I was an... an equinpologist researching the effects of the Age of Industry on the sociocultural level. I happened to see a griffin child playing with a balisong while I was there. Intrigued, I asked my guide what it was and decided to purchase one for myself.” My gaze fell to Grimm. “I'm sure you can figure out the rest.”
“You... were in our homeland before the megaspells fell?” Azrael widened her eyes, rising from her seated position.
“Yes. Before it was ravaged by the Great Schism even...”
She cocked an eyebrow. “The Great-”
I cut her off. “I don't. Want. To talk about it. Just... later. Later.” The giant seated herself once more. “Will that be all?”
“Oh, wait!” Rig exclaimed. “I remembered one! Right, uh, what's your cutie-mark?”
I exhaled slowly. “I... really... really don't wish to talk about it.”
“Are you sure it’s that much of a big-” I cut her off with an intense glare. “Ugh... well that's all I got,” she sighed.
“Uh, hello!” Grimm waved. “What happens to me now?”
“That's a very good question,” I said, training my intense gaze on him. “Do you know how far you are from me?”
“Uh, well, let's see...” He looked down.
He never saw it coming. I closed the distance in the blink of an eye, my hoof flatly striking him in the chest with a solid crack. As he started to stagger back, I propelled myself up onto my hindlegs and kicked at his own, aiming for the knee. Another solid crack. Advancing as he began falling forward, I cuffed him in the chest once more, this time with a wet squelch. I knocked him clear off his hindlegs and flat onto his back.
“Not far enough,” I finished.
“Aah!” Grimm whooped. “Aaaahahahahahahahaaa! Wow! That actually hurts! Aaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahaaa!”
“Yeah, um, Frost?” Rig stared. “What the hell did you do that for?!”
“Is there a problem?” I glanced down at her, still on my hindlegs. Yes... standing like this was much easier now.
“Well...” She hesitated, eying the hysterical ghoul.
“I see nothing wrong with this,” Azrael said with a shrug.
“Hooo!” Grimm writhed. “Hooo! Now... hahaha... what did you do that for, ol' buddy ol' pal?”
“Ol' buddies ol' pals we may be,” I responded, looming over him, “but you burned down a good town, and you killed many innocent people.”
“So did Soraya over there!” the ghoul squawked. “Wah! Waaaahahahahahahahaha! And, and, and 'innocent?' Haaaahahaha! I'd tell you not to make me laugh, but you- you already did! Haaaaahhhh!” I crushed his other hindleg, the age-brittled bone snapping easily. “Wooo! Woohoohoohoohoohoooooo! 'We're all victims,' they say! But you know what we say, huh?” His voice grew hoarse as he shrieked. “We're all villains, Frostie! We're all villains, mmmmeeeeeeeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeeeeeee!” Grimm licked and smacked his beak. “Besides, I didn't kill everyone here! Ohhhhohoho!”
“Your raiders did,” I growled, slamming down on his gut as he squirmed beneath me.
His eyes bulged, and he sputtered black ichor as he snickered, “Does... heheheh... does... oh, this is good, this is good, hahahah... does that make you a raider too?!”
I blanched. How did he know? How did he know?!
“Move,” Azrael snapped, shoving me aside. Valkyrie sparked to life, and she swept the blade across him.
“Aaaaaaaahahahahahahahaaaaa!” he cackled as the green flames consumed him. “Priceless! Just pricless! Aaaaaaahahahahahahahaaaaaa! Aaaaaaaahahahahahahahaaaaa!” He continued to laugh that horrible, vile, whooping laugh until the ghostfire claimed him, leaving a blackened corpse behind.
* * *
Night fell shortly after. We were in a cave again, not that I minded. We couldn't stay in the Alhambronco ruins. If Grimm... if Javahl didn't return, The Dead Boys would know to trace us there.
We ate in silence. Azrael scarfed down a pack of Cram, a box of Sugar Apple Bombs, and a Fancy Colt Snack Cake- that was what it took to get the taste of ghoul tongue out, apparently. Despite what happened earlier, she still showed a most peculiar level of glee and delight in wolfing down the sweets. Rig had canned cream of broccoli. I had biscuits; I couldn't enjoy their taste. At the very least, Rig still met my glance. I think she found some solace in that I didn't shrink away at the sight of what laid beneath her earthy coat. I wanted to, though.
I still didn't have my magic back. There wasn't as much heat in the air, but I just couldn't concentrate. I just felt drained, drained like the night before.
“I'll take first watch,” I said, breaking the silence only for a moment. In an instant, it was back and I walked out without another word.
I had excellent vision already without disengaging the enchantment. Now, the night turned to day. Without ice tendrils, I would need my enhanced senses to properly keep watch.
I could already hear Her soft breath. “You told them. Why?”
I glanced at Her. “Because of you,” I whispered in reply. With my hearing, I very well may have been talking. “And because I'm sorry.”
“Is it only because they found out about you in the end anyways?” She asked.
I winced, the words stinging. “It's because I felt nothing when I killed Miranda, and I felt nothing when I killed her daughter. And it scares me.” I glanced down at the dull blue eye on my breastplate, sighing softly. “I've... changed, haven't I?” I raised my hooves. I could count every individual strand of long, ash-gray fur if I wanted to. “More than I thought...” I pried my breastplate away enough to remove the two photographs I hid inside, piecing the split one together. Such a long time has passed since they were taken. The first, I still had some semblance of myself. But the second... even beside Her, I couldn't make the connection between my two selves. “Far more than I thought.” I looked up at her, into those eyes full of everything. “Yet here you are, just the same as when we met.”
“Not like after, though,” She sighed, placing a hoof on my shoulder. “I... don't think I can forgive you, given that I can't exactly blame you for what you did. But... I can at least say you're starting to redeem yourself for what you've done in my eyes.” I perked my ears upon hearing that. “Starting to. Barely. Don't get your hopes up.”
I nodded slowly, murmuring, “Father... always told me that the truth sets you free. I guess it's about time to put it to the test.”
My ears twitched from the sound of footsteps. She couldn't sneak up on me this time. I swept up the photographs in my hoof and tucked them safely behind my breastplate once more. Azrael joined me shortly after.
We were silent, seated side-by-side. After minute, I whispered, “You came out here for a reason.”
The griffin regarded me for a moment, then asked, “Are you still Frostbane Hokkaido Windchill? Or is that even your real name?”
“I am him as much as you are Soraya Razorwing,” I replied. A pause. “Do you wish to...?”
Sensing where I was headed, she answered, “Azrael. Not Soraya. You know my reasons.”
“I see.” Too bad. Soraya was a lovely name...
“It wasn't worth it, was it?” she asked, facing me.
“Lying all this time?” I sighed.
“No.” She shook her head lightly. “Killing Miranda and Wendy.”
My heart seized, was tugged downward with that sudden weight. I could only stammer pathetically, “H-How did...”
“All it takes is a hint of suspicion for investigation to follow,” Azrael spoke, her tone even. “I learned from The Dead Boys that conscience can overrule contract. I flew closer with Rig after you left.”
I bit my lip. “What do you plan to do?”
“Nothing different,” the giant responded. I widened my eyes in surprise. “I haven't informed Rig, and I have no intention to. I'll leave it to you to decide if you wish and when to inform her.”
I could only ask, “Why?”
“Because I believe in second chances no matter how far one has fallen, Frost. So do my father and Silas, and so did... my mother. I intend to atone for my sins, and you and Rig are the ones setting me on that path. It is only fair that I extend that luxury to you.” She paused. “Understand, Frost, that both Rig and I are vesting a great deal of trust in you. Don't squander it.” Another pause. “And I do hope that the reason behind the lies is a good one to justify- no, to come close to justifying what you've done.”
“... I believe they might,” I spoke, “but... in the grand scheme of things, they do not.”
“'They?'”
“I have more reasons than you can fathom, Azrael,” I said all too easily, “and they continue to haunt me.”
“The nightmares,” she stated, not asked.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes.”
Azrael regarded me for a few seconds. “There's a reason I can't read you, isn't there?”
“It's because I don't want you to. After everything is said and done, you can read me all you want. Just bear in mind that you won't like what you find.”
The hybrid gave a stout nod. “I wish to ask some more questions.”
Well, she was forward with it, wasn't she? “I'm not going to stop you,” I replied. “Just know I may not answer.”
“... I would say that's fair enough, but given the circumstances, I rescind that. Nevertheless, is this what you really look like?”
“Somehow, I knew you'd ask the harder question,” I huffed. “Yes and no. Yes because this is what I look like after... well, this is what I look like now, and it's also what I'd look like if you completely removed my armor. No because I... used to have green fur like you knew me before this. Give me normal teeth and normal, dark-blue eyes on top of that, and that's what I... that’s my original form.”
“'Original form,'” Azrael murmured. “You said that your appearance is both natural and unnatural. Clarify.”
I sighed before replying, “I... suppose I can do that. There is something that separates us- the Lunar Guard- from the Solar Guard and even the lower Night Guard. Their uniform appearance is the result of armor enchantment. Ours is the result of... bio-magical augmentation.”
“Clarify further.”
“You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?” I sighed. “Very well. After intense training, Lunar Guard recruits still able to make the cut and still have the determination to guard Her Majesty of the Moon must endure the Transfusion. You see, the blood flowing through my veins is not my own.”
“Clarify. Further.”
My gaze hardened. “It's dragon blood, magically activated to augment our bodies. The process is... the most painful thing one can experience. But that is why the Lunar Guard is a force never to be reckoned with.”
“That seems a bit presumptuous,” the ebony griffin remarked.
“I'm not the best example at the moment, I'll admit. I'm long out of my prime. Turn back the clock, and you'll see why.”
Azrael raised a nearly-invisible eyebrow for a moment. “Very well then. So is that the reason behind your age, then?”
“Unlikely,” I huffed. “The Transfusion does result in a longer lifespan, but not this long, no. Maybe fifty years longer. Maybe. But not this long, especially since...” I trailed off with a bitter sigh. “Let's not go there. I don't know how I'm still alive. It's a question I try not to think about.”
“... very well. Now, your armor. I understand that it possesses a gem-powered spell matrix of sorts, as it can alter your voice and visage. Explain.”
“I... I can do that, yes.” I nodded slowly. “First, what do you know about starmetal?”
“Only what your zebra friend Xamuros knows,” she replied. “It is an otherwordly metal with properties not fully understood. It was used by Nightmare Moon in the form of a suit of armor that was only completely destroyed after two uses of the Elements of Harmony. The zebras are terrified of its power.”
“That much is true,” She said.
I gaped in shock, looking from Her to Azrael.
“What is it, Frost?” the griffin asked, bringing Harbinger to bear. “Hunters?”
I looked from one to the other. “Wait... you mean you can't see Her?”
“See who?” she glanced at me.
I stared at Her for a few seconds. “Can you detect anyone else here? More specifically right beside me?”
“No,” Azrael replied, relaxing, “only animals around us.”
“I...” I looked at Her. She smiled sadly. “I see.”
“You're seeing your love, aren't you?” the hybrid inquired.
“... I am. How...?”
“I'm blind, Frost, not deaf. I heard you talking to Her before, and so did Rig before you arrived in Stalliongrad.”
“Ah...”
“You were going somewhere with the mention of starmetal?”
“Oh, yes,” I stammered, glancing at Her one last time. At least Azrael knew better than to delve further into that matter. “This,” I tapped my breastplate, “is not the original Lunar Guard armor. The original was about a dozen times heavier and far more cumbersome, to the point that fins and tail sheaths were incorporated into the pegasus variant to aid with steering in flight. The Transfusion was... actually necessary for even earth ponies to use the armor, to say nothing of a unicorn such as myself.
“What I wear is actually the second iteration, introduced shortly after... Princess Luna's return. It offers much more coverage... and is made completely out of starsteel. Not just starmetal, no- refined starsteel. We never found out exactly what could punch through it, but most apparent is its dramatically increased strength-to-weight ratio. Unfortunately, the forgers never could form enough to cover the belly or neck on the base model... we didn't have a limitless supply of starmetal after all.
“Now... to... to answer your question, the armor has a gem-powered spell matrix built into the breastplate. It was the first of its kind, and it served as the template for subsequent pony, zebra, and griffin arcanotechnology for power armor. Within this gem,” I indicated the draconic eye on my breast, “are three enchantments. The first is the Canterlot Augmented Pony Speech spell. That should be... self-explanatory since you witnessed it firsthand. The second is the transmorgrative spell. After all... Princess Luna sometimes missed how her loyal guards originally... appeared. The enchantment could never work on the eyes or teeth, however. For the reason, the gem's iris was enchanted so that when the spell was activated, it would change to match the original eye color. The third...
I shuddered, gulping and tightening my jaw. My tone grew flat and hard. “The third is something I hope I never have to use again.”
“What is it?” Azrael questioned.
I shared a glance with Her for a moment. We averted our gazes quickly.
“A megaspell.”
Azrael widened her eyes and slumped her shoulders.
“Like I said, I hope I never have to use it again.”
“A-Again?” she stared.
“I don't wish to talk about it,” I spoke, almost growled. “But the least I can tell you is that it's not a balefire bomb like you're thinking.”
“I... I see.” Azrael nodded slowly. “No further questions. I... do think I'll share this with Rig though.”
“Do as you wish,” I told her. “I will wake her shortly for watch. You rest. That's an order.”
“... understood.” And then she left.
As soon as she was out of earshot: “You were there the whole time, weren't you?”
“I was testing to see if she could detect me,” She answered, eyes downcast. “She can't, clearly.”
I sighed, placing my hoof on Her shoulder. I could still feel Her. “Remember, I said you're still real to me, no matter what.”
“Especially when I hit you, hm?”
I winced. “Yes...” I pulled my hoof away and started back into the cave.
“What are you planning?” She asked.
“You'll see,” I responded. Azrael was already asleep. I had to admit, even with her massive Kord 6P50 exposed, she looked... nice without her cloak and cowl. Rig was still snoozing along, her photoreceptor clinched shut. The synthetic coat was only starting to grow back.
I tapped her on her good foreleg, causing her eye to shoot open and her lens to cycle apart, the red dot widening to focus. “My watch?” she asked in a whisper.
I bobbed my head in confirmation and nodded outside. “Come with me,” I beckoned quietly.
The cloud-maned mare followed after me in that slight limp of hers. “Azrael told me,” she sighed. “Or... whatever the telepathic equivalent of the word is.” She seemed at a loss of how to reply to all of that. She just shook her head and asked, “So, uh... why did you want me?”
My heart went into a frenzy, jaw working in circles. I was about to do this. The feeling along made me want to turn away and just leave it all behind, but... I made a promise to Her. Not one step back.
“I... haven't been truthful to you. Now it's... now it's time to set things straight.” I swallowed hard. “Grimm was right... Grimm was right. Before you two came in, I killed a donkey jenny named Miranda. Her daughter saw me do it... I had to kill her too.” Her eye was already starting to slant, and she began to gape her mouth. I spoke quickly, trying to justify myself in a panic. “I met her many years ago, and I lied about myself to her, alright? What I told Azrael would differ too much from what she learned from Beat Blaze and what she would have learned from Miranda! You both would have suspected if I had simply lead them away, or you would have spotted me! Even then, there was no guarantee she wouldn't just enter Azrael's radius! I...” I was such a coward. Such a coward, trying to do that. Rig was biting her lip now, shutting her eyes tight. “I... so I killed them. I'm... I'm so sorry, Rig.”
She tore her eye open and punched me hard in the face, looking as if she could burst into tears at any moment- but couldn't. I took it, but I barely felt it. I was back in Miranda's store now, heading down the stairs. I was back there, where She pulled me around and beat me down. But as Rig struck me again and again, I barely felt it. Wetness flowed down my nose- that much I felt. I took it again and again and again. I made no effort to stop her. I took it all without so much as a cry. I took it because I knew that in the end, I deserved more. I took it because I knew I could endure.
It went on for five minutes, five minutes that seemed to stretch into oblivion. Finally, she pulled back. Her bitter expression hurt far more than the sum of all her blows.
“How much of that did you feel?” she finally asked.
I found I couldn't reply. As I felt my face, it was because my jaw was broken in several places along with my nose. Rig scowled and levitated a super restoration potion to... toward... me...
<====ooo*cityofbloodandiron*OOO*bloodanddarkness*ooo====>
“Hy drink dit nie, meneer!”
“Dan maak hy drink dit!”
I felt my shattered jaw stretch open, my eyes tearing up from the agony as all those bottles flowed down. My insides warped, my flesh crept, and my bones lurched back together while I writhed in agony. Finally, it was over. The potions were all gone. I was whole again.
But yet my heart thudded as I knew what would come next as it had come so many times.
“One another time, pony,” the second voice hissed in broken Equestrian, spitting out the last word. “How works the necklace?” His ripper was only inches away from my face, covered in viscera.
My viscera.
I spat, no, I only managed to cough in his face.
He wiped the bloody saliva away, expression hardening. “Haal meer, Doboro. Hy sal dit nodig.”
“Ja, meneer...”
The ripper started up again with an angry buzz. “Now your belly, pony!”
I tensed in anticipation, knowing I'd never be prepared enough.
I wasn't disappointed.
<====ooo*darkestd[oom]ays*OOO*bl1g47MM3effpnd*ooo====>
I don't know how long I stared at that bottle. I shakily took it and drank it down as fast as I could, throwing the bottle away as far as I could with a soft whimper. I held my face together in what I hoped would be the right way. Flesh crept, bones lurched, and I was whole again.
“So how much did you feel?” Rig repeated, seething.
I whispered grimly, “Not much.”
She collapsed, gritting her teeth. “Fuck, neither did I...” She just laid there and exhaled sharply.
I sat down beside her. “I'll understand if you want me to leave. Just take Azrael with you.”
“Well, I don't!” the earth-coated cyber growled. “I need you to get me to your Stable, dammit!” She growled again. “Great. I practically caved in the face of the buck who saved me. And he's the one still helping me. Now I feel like a bitch.”
“I deserved it,” I pointed out with a sigh. “Probably more.”
“Yeah,” she grumbled. “Yeah, but dammit, I just did it! I didn't think, I just did it! Fuck... I'm turning into a fucking robot...”
That resonated deep within me, my heart clenching up again. “No, Rig. You're not. You're not.” The last came out firmly.
“Oh yeah?” She glared at me. “I killed that first griffin back in Stalliongrad without thinking! I killed all those raiders in Manehattan and Alhambronco without thinking! All those Dead Boys! Now I just beat the shit out of you without thinking! If that's not being a fucking machine, I don't know what-”
I hugged her. I didn't know what else to do- I hugged her. I was half expecting her to shrug me off, maybe even punch me again. She made no such move to resist. She just shut her eye tight, shuddering as if wanting to cry.
“I've been down that path, Rig,” I whispered to her. “I'm still living with the consequences. You still have a good soul, a bright mind, and a warm heart.” I spoke the last without thinking, and she winced. “J-Just... hold onto those. I didn't. Now look what I've become.”
Rig finally pushed away, glancing at me one last time. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be,” I told her.
“Don't be like that,” she seethed. “Don't fucking be like that.”
I sighed softly, “Then I'm sorry, too.”
“Tell it to them. They’re the ones who need it more.”
“I will be,” I sighed again. “I know I will be.”
“Now go the fuck to sleep, foal killer,” Rig grumbled.
I nodded before heading back. “In moon’s light.” My senses dulled, and my strength ebbed away. I looked back down at my forelegs as I strode away. Green again. Back again.
Azrael was awake like I expected her to be. She only gave me a look I couldn't read. Did she approve? Did she scorn me? She drifted off before I could ascertain. I walked past her to the very back of the cave and slid down.
Father knew best after all. I didn't feel free, though. Neigh, not free. But I felt and odd peace, an odd serenity as I lied there waiting for sleep to claim me. I was waiting for the big, empty bastard- the Wasteland- to take me up into its womb of blood and darkness.
I felt a pair of forelegs wrap around me from behind, my eyes flashing open in surprise as I found Her holding me tight.
“You're getting there,” She whispered. “You're getting there.”
“I still got off with a slap on the fetlock,” I sighed softly. Day of sighs indeed.
“So did I.”
“Love...” I waited.
“You can call me that, yes.”
I smiled, just a little. It was gone fast. “Love, did you... take the pain?”
“Not that time, no,” She answered. “I knew you wanted to feel it.”
“So much for that,” I sighed.
“Love,” She whispered.
“You should try to cool your burnout. You'll need your magic.”
“Already tried,” I huffed. “I just can't focus.”
“Turn around.” I did, and so I looked deep into those soulful, doleful, wholesome eyes full of everything. “Now try again.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. It was a losing battle between Miranda's desperate plea, Wendy's fearful gaze, Grimm's dying howl of mad laughter, Rig's fury, Her lips pressed against mine-
W-Wait. Oh... my...
No, She didn't add a hint of tongue. No, it didn't get any deeper than the lips. We never did it that way. But I'll be damned if a halo of ice didn't form right then and there around my horn and collapse. Coolness flowed through me as I opened my eyes in astonishment while She pulled away. I experimentally formed an ice arm, flexing the fingers.
I looked back at Her. “That's... one way to do it.”
“And quite a way, isn't it?” She smiled only for a moment. “Just don’t think it’ll be a regular occurrence. You know what to expect after you close your eyes. Good night, Frost.”
I hugged Her tightly, nodding. “Good night, my little Nightingale.”
And then She was gone.
~ ~ ~
I was in the void once more. One shadow floated over me, lined with multiple black, bleeding streaks. Her- for I knew the shadow to be her- eyes were blank and pleading. A second shadow, smaller and lined with the same streaks, floated beside her. Her eyes were wide and fearful. Their manes and tails flowed freely, waving as if caught in an eternal, ethereal breeze.
“I'm sorry, Miranda...” I whispered to them, knowing I would never truly atone. “I'm sorry, Wendy... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”
~ ~ ~
||
|--------|
<-------->
<========>
<====ooO Ooo====>
Footnote: Frost- Maximum Level
Quest perk added: Damned in Blood- Your atrocities are many, but now you’ve crossed the line. Your Karma level can never rise above Neutral.
Rig- Level Up! Level 9 Reached!
Azrael- Maximum Level
Unlockable added: Soundtrack- Theme of the Shamed, Frost
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It's only been two minutes? That was the longest two minutes I've ever seen.
Psychotic laughter is the best kind, or at least the funnest to copy. And then he went bye bye.
It's a start at least and dayum what a way to recharge.
I wonder who "Her" is. I have a suspicion, buuuuut it's probably wrong.
Nice stuff Adder.
480697 *stares*
I just uploaded this! How did you get done so... well, shorter chapter than normal, okay. 
Only two minutes for Roanoke to transmit a few hours' worth of narrative, yus. :3
Grimm/Javahl is a blast to write, yeah. Though I did use up a lot of ink writing this while on vacation...
Yes, it's a start. But hey, if love can do what it does in the season 2 finale, then it can easily cool off a magical burnout.
We'll see. Answers may come sooner than you think. Maybe. We'll see how long these upcoming chapters take. XD
Thank you kindly.
480790
Also doesn't hurt that I was bored and caught it just after you posted it.
Eeyup shorter chapter means a quicker read. (Duh!)
A shame that that two minutes doesn't transfer to the real world.
And as always the inevitable sadness that is the wait for a new chapter is setting in. Maybe I'll go back and read ch. 10 or check the others for their gun porn again. I have been missing it.
480914 What?! Somepony is sad because there's nothing more of it to read?!
480979 "Don't start with me. I'm on fire."
How so? *knows zip about Warhammer... that's Warhammer, right?*
Hugs always make everything better.
Except for robots, cacti, porcupines, blowfish... 
Thank you kindly.
496161 Thank you kindly. It's a shorter chapter than usual, but I'm glad you still enjoyed it.
"Party forth and conquer, this is the will of your Caesar, and his will shalt be done"
Party on.
604830 ... I dun't get it.
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See you in like, twelve hours or so.
Grumble grumble... there goes my cryogenics theory... And I was so thinking of him as a Mr. Freeze analogue too.
Le sigh.
Remember when I said it would be two or three days? I LIED!
Chapter 11 - It was interesting to see that Rig was actually quite a popular pony, and that the multi-racial stable actually worked out with a reasonable degree of success, especially considering the distrust of zebras during wartime. I’m reminded of a certain experiment wherein monkeys are sprayed with water for trying to climb a ladder to get a banana before they all learn not to bother, only for one monkey to be swapped out and have the rest beat the shit out of the new monkey for trying. You’d think that even though the ponies had no clue why, hate for the zebras wouldn’t be bred out after multiple generations just through conditioning alone.
Rig’s origins… sweet Cygnus, that poor kid. Damn if that isn’t one of the saddest things ever. So many feels during that part. It takes a very special hand to get me to feel sympathy for a character, so great job there- you nailed it. Hell, at this point, I’m trying to figure out who had less of their original body leftover before cybernetics, Blackjack or Rig.
‘The Transfusion?’ REVEAL YOUR SECRETS TO ME, SECRET-KEEPER!
So the Dead Boys purposefully destroyed a vital maneframe that would have helped Frost acquire data to help in his quest, and quite possibly contained other things that may have compromised them to some degree. Hm.
Another (not so surprising anymore) bit of tenderness from Azrael as she helps Frost through his grief. A short little scene, but powerful nonetheless, I thought.
And… holy shit. Frost plugs a mule and her kid just to keep them quiet? Okay, uh… wow. It doesn’t really turn me away in disgust because I hate protagonists that are too high on their moral horse to get down and dirty once in a while, but he must be unreasonably paranoid, or have a damn good reason if he’s willing to go that far to keep his past a secret. A lot of people don’t realize that when you’re desperate, no matter how far over your moral compass points to good, you don’t always care about doing the right thing, you only care about what will protect you from harm, physical or otherwise.
Chapter 12 – Aha, so Frost wasn’t such a cool customer about what he did after all. I had a feeling he’d be beating himself up about it, because as you say, he tries to do the right thing, even if he doesn’t go about it in the most stereotypically heroic way possible. Rough as hell around the edges, but clearly he’s a good guy at heart, so naturally he wouldn’t be able to just shrug off an atrocity like that.
Watching Azrael cut a swath through a bunch of raiders was fun times. Finally that badass scythe gets to see some real action!
The bodies are gone and Frost’s mystery mare thinks he’s been punished severely enough by this point… hmm…
Sheesh, Frost is a real picky-pants about his weapons. There was a buffet of good guns in that list! DMR? I believe I c wut u did thar :3
And lastly a big ‘ol fight with one of the Dead Boys’ leaders. Entertaining, and for more than one reason, you sly referential dog, you.
Huh. Wow, I thought I’d have more to say here, but I guess not.
Finally. Finally, Frost is cornered into answering some questions! I like to think that in this one instance I am lucky, as instead of waiting for the next chapter like people who were following you from the beginning, I get to go on immediately! Which… I will actually take full advantage of right now.
Chapter 13 – Damn it, I’ve been swindled! Bamboozled! Frost, you clammed-up bastard, REVEAL YOUR SECRETS TO ME! Harrumph!
That aside, it’s nice to at least get some clarification as to what Frost’s deal is. Pretty neat that he actually was a legit Lunar Guard all along, though I feel like you intentionally wrote it so that we’d reach that conclusion on our own.
Cool to see what ‘The Transfusion’ actually is, and although I could get a decent estimate from context clues, what it turned out to be was pretty brutal. The whole process sounds… less than scrupulous. But in a somewhat similar vein, the MAS was experimenting with I.M.P., so I suppose it’s not really all that shocking that they’d shoot Lunar Guard recruits full of dragon blood.
I feel like Frost really needed the beating Rig gave him, but at the same time the poor kid didn’t need the distress it caused her. Not only is she physically mostly-robot, the last thing she needs is to feel like she’s thinking like a robot too. Hey, which hoof did she use to beat the shit out of Frost, the real one or the cyborg one? I feel like if she used her real leg to cause him that much damage, it would’ve made it all that more personal and really would’ve sent the lesson home to Frost.
But now that I think on it, the opposite could be true as well. Something like: ‘You’re not worth using my real leg on; I’ll just do twice as much damage with my robot-strength leg to make this as impersonal as equinely possible, because you know what? You don’t deserve it.’
Eh, I sort of got away from myself there. Anywho, I’ll pick it back up in a couple days fo’ realz this time, yo. Toodles!
I'mma go with "oh hell yes."
This is sort of contradicted by the last sentence.
I have some guesses, but I'm not going to type them out yet.
*breastplate. Unless that's some obscure armor term I haven't heard about.