Spectrum

by Sledge115

Act I ~ Chapter Eight ~ The Heart Goes Last

Spectrum

The Team

TheIdiot

Thinks contortedly.

DoctorFluffy

VoxAdam

Sledge115

RoyalPsycho

TB3

Kizuna Tallis

Fires Freely.

ProudToBe

Chapter Eight

The Heart Goes Last

* * * * *

“We crushed ourselves down over the centuries. Buried ourselves under greed and hate and whatever other sins we could find until our souls finally hit the rock bottom of the universe. And then they scraped a hole through it, into some… dark place. We released it. We poked through the seabed and the oil erupted, painted us black, pulled our inner sickness out for everyone to see. Now here we are in this dry corpse of a world, rotting on our feet till there’s nothing left but bones and the buzz of flies.”
— Julie, from Warm Bodies, by Isaac Marion

~ Ponyville, Equestria ~ Second Day of the Month of Rophon, Year 3 of the Era Harmoniae ~

In the comfort of her palatial cloud-home, Rainbow Dash’s thoughts were far from leaving her bed. For the past two hours, she’d lain reclined, only moving to turn another page on her book. Daring Do & The Volcano of Destiny was proving a different sort of read from what she’d expected. Less action-packed than the rest of the series, with lots of ink spent on wordy passages slowly uncovering the stakes, like the narrative was afraid of getting to the action. A.K. Yearling seemed to have developed a taste for making things mysterious, with characters not being who they seemed, but never quite explaining what they were. Even the quest for the central artefact felt a little out-of-focus.

Still, she’d kept reading. Which meant it must be doing something to make her want to see the end.

That being said, Dash had picked up, by now, that the chapter she was currently on had an odd under-current about the demands of relationships, and building family. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. In many respects, what she liked about Daring was how she could relate to her. Although Daring wasn’t an only child like Dash was, she lived fine without a special somepony in her life, just like she’d grown up without a mother. Both had fathers who were supportive while trusting their little girls to pick themselves up on their own. Dash found this suitable. She may have loved adulation, but it needed to feel earned. Parents who praised every little mediocrity, those were her worst nightmare.

No, Dash’s true family, apart from Dad, were her friends. With plans for the Wonderbolts, too.

So it was surprising that Daring wasn’t like her in this regard. It had never occurred to her before. Daring was a lone brave soul, and that made her a special kind of awesome. But Yearling must have been going through a mid-life crisis, because the number of young couples and parents Daring kept bumping into here was off-the-charts. Slowly, Dash had to admit a creeping dread that each time she turned the page, Daring would abruptly need a love interest to show her the way.

She’d read too many stories in fanzines who did this sort of thing, and she hated it.

‘Oh, Celestia, no,’ she thought. ‘Don’t let her just… Uuuugh. A boyfriend, then suddenly everything revolves around him, and there’s a pair of foals and Daring barely spends half the time as the mane character…’

It made her want to take a turn at Applebucking Season just thinking about it.

‘You’re probably still just wound-up over having met this human soldier-guy. It was tough, but you don’t have to let it sour you on everything.’

Yet her excitement at starting a new book had been cooling down, and she was feeling a few unpleasant memories seeping back into her mind. Sensing this and unsure of what to do, it was then that Dash recalled an old piece of advice from Twilight – pace yourself.

Twilight Sparkle, whose freakouts were so massive she sang whole arias about them, sometimes had the best teachings, for somepony not always good at the ‘do as I do’ thing.

Maybe, Dash thought, she could stop reading, if only for a minute, to skim through her letters. Yeah. That was a good idea. So Dash closed her book, determined to continue it very soon. She picked the top letter off the pile. Whether it was a bill or an ad, Dash felt confident that boredom would quickly chase away any black thoughts, and put her right back in the mood for Daring.

* * * * *

“Indefinite watch duty,” Selene said with a yawn, turning to look at Gibbous. “Don’tcha just hate it?”

Her partner shrugged, leaning against the door to the human’s bedroom with, frankly, insolent casualness for a Lunar Guard.

“Eh,” Gibbous said. “It’s not so bad, this town. Something’s always going on in Ponyville.”

“Please,” Selene scolded him. “You know you’re only saying so because you’ve got that silly crush on the local zebra.”

“Hm, not an evening person, are we?” Gibbous teased her. “You should learn to live a little, Selene.”

“Slow and steady wins the race, that’s the motto,” Selene said. “That’s how you get on in life. Mayhap I’m a bit tired now, but if you don’t work on your blood circulation, mate, you’re gonna be sliding to the floor before Sun’s up. Rather like that over-energetic green mare who kept popping in and out.”

“Yeah, where’d she go to?” Gibbous said curiously. “Haven’t seen her in a bit. Last we saw her, looked like she was rushing out the hospital without a backwards glance.”

“We’re mere Guards. Ours is not to wonder,” Selene shrugged. Stifling another yawn, she began shaking her head, then stopped, as her eyes refocused upon something past his shoulder, further up the corridor. “Well, will you look at that, Gibbous,” she told him, “seems you’re not the only Guard with romantic delusions I’m gonna be playing sitter for tonight.” She frowned. “Wait a minute. That makes two Guards. Did I forg–” Her eyes shot open. “Oh. Oh, tarnation. I forgot about Winter.”

But Gibbous wasn’t listening, having turned to see who was approaching. “Icewind?” he muttered, low enough for only her to hear him, as he noticed the Solar Guard approaching them, divested of armour. “Shouldn’t he and Winter be off-duty? What could he be after?”

* * * * *

“Redheart.”

Her name, a whisper in the dark.

“Redheart, talk to me.”

A voice, off the edge of consciousness.

The darkness does not make a clean break into light, when one finds one’s way back to the surface. At the threshold, a kaleidoscope of different colours twists and swirls before one’s eyes. As though, in that moment, one is made aware of the invisible spectrum linking the conscious and unconscious worlds.

Hesitation. Then a command. “Get up, soldier! You’re not down yet!”

Feeling came back into her body. Stiffness. Grogginess. But she was no longer gone. Groaning, Nurse Redheart forced her eyes open. The swirls became one great blur, the blur coalesced into real shapes.

She saw a creamy-white, blue-eyed face staring down at her. “Oh, thank Celestia,” the face’s owner breathed, clutching Redheart’s forehoof tightly.

“Bon… Bonbon?” Redheart’s voice came out in a croak. “What are you doing here… in my room?”

Because it was her room. She could tell that now.

“Rescuing you, of course!” Bonbon said, easing her grip slightly. In her other forehoof she clutched, of all things, an empty syringe. “You were out cold.”

“How did... you get in here?” Redheart said weakly. She then felt stupid. The answer was staring her in the face, almost literally. She tried shuffling herself up, but could not. Her muscles still felt too feeble. “No… how… why did you come for me? How did you... know.”

“I didn’t,” said Bonbon, laying down the syringe. “I mean, you’re a nurse. Work long shifts, what’s so unusual about you being asleep before nine? Except I just spoke to–”

Redheart didn’t get to hear more, as her body was wracked by a hoarse, gasping cough.

“Oh, sweet heavens…” Her throat felt dry. “Bonbon,” Redheart said, her free hoof reaching out. “I… I need some water. I...”

Bonbon nodded, letting go to draw out a flask from her saddlebags.

“Here,” she said, gingerly pressing the nozzle to Redheart’s lips. “You’ll get over it quick. I don’t think you were out for more than a day. But that was some strong sedative.” She removed the flask, and gestured towards the syringe. “I had to shoot you with a full dose of plasma to snap you out of it.”

“S… sedative?” Redheart whispered, too befuddled to say anything else.

“Yeah, sedative.” Bonbon held up a small bottle of hairwash. “When I got up here and found you like this, I immediately knew something didn’t feel right. For one thing, I really didn’t expect to find you here at all. Then I took a closer look at you. And I did a quick search.” Cautiously, she sniffed the bottle. “Someone tricked you into knocking yourself out, Redheart. Whoever it was, they still bothered to put you to bed...”

“Bonbon,” Redheart cut her off. “Why are you here? How’d you get in?”

Bonbon’s wordless reply was to put down bottle and flask alike, so she could pick another thing from off the floor. Metal glinted in the light of the bedside lamp, and Redheart recognised it as a grappling-hook.

“Hey,” Bonbon said lightly, tapping a utility belt around her waist. “Pinkie’s not the only one who makes rock candy in this town, you know. Job requires me to hone my abseiling skills. Then I saw you and...” She hesitated. “I had to pick the lock on your window.”

Redheart gave her a bleary stare. “But… what business would you have at my window?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Bonbon said, opting for half-truths. “You’ve been missing. Or rather, I heard something weird from the last pony who saw you, and I got a sneaking suspicion… I decided the next place to look was in your home. I’m sorry. Good thing I did, though…”

“Ugh…” Redheart scrunched her eyes shut. “I can’t think straight. None of this making sense. And I thought Lyra was the weird one of you two…”

“That’s the thing. Lyra.”

A surprisingly urgent note lay in Bonbon’s voice. Redheart reopened her eyes, to find Bonbon looking at her with deep concern.

“She hasn’t come home in two days,” Bonbon explained. “Rarity told me about the strange creature she found in the Forest, and it being at the hospital, but that’s it. I know these cases usually fall into your lap. I was hoping to ask you about everything.”

“You sure don’t do things by half.” Redheart glanced at the open window, which had its curtains fluttering in the breeze. “Barging into my bedroom while I’m sleeping, when you could’ve just gone talk to Lyra at the hospital.”

Bonbon gave a weak snicker. “Again, let’s be glad I did. You might need a hospital check-up yourself. And whatever the strange creature is… someone didn’t want you around it.” Her gaze hardened. “Whatever’s going on, I’m not gonna let Lyra be hurt. Not after the Wedding Invasion.”

“That’s… great,” Redheart said, unable to think of anything better. She again tried raising herself, with a little more success. “Bwuh… but who do you think did this to… me?”

“I really don’t know,” Bonbon replied. “But since the Invasion, there’s only one true suspect, isn’t there?”

Her words made Redheart go stiff once more, for reasons that had nothing to do with the sedative’s effects on her body. Even now, not everything about Bonbon’s presence made sense to her. Yet her mind had found its focus.

“Yes,” she said, her jaw set tight. “Excuse me. Will you help me up?”

* * * * *

It took three goes of insistent knocking, before the door opened to the Whooves household.

“Hi there, Rainbow Dash.” Derpy’s expression, which had gone even more off-kilter than usual, relaxed when she saw who it was. “Dear me. I felt so sure I hadn’t miscounted Dinky’s friends leaving. I’d… just hoped Sparkler might be back already. Still. Fancy joining us for dinner? I ended up making enough for eight ponies…”

Dash thrust out an open envelope at the wall-eyed mailmare. “No time for that, Derpy,” she said, pointing to the envelope. “You know what this is?”

Derpy peered at it, as best she could. “Um, it’s a letter, isn’t it? I mean, I may get a lot of things mixed up, but I’ve never mistaken a letter for something else.”

“That’s right, it’s a letter,” Dash informed her, brow furrowing. “A letter I shoulda got yesterday, same as the order for my new Daring Do book.”

She saw Derpy do some quick thinking. “But you didn’t order any books through the post office,” Derpy pointed out. “If you went through the A-Mare’s-OWN guild, they’re the ones responsible for their carriers dropping off your stuff.”

“Well, they’ve sure dropped me off their list of clients,” Dash said impatiently. “Doesn’t matter. I got the book anyway.”

“Who is it?” called a male voice from the dining room.

Derpy turned and called back. “It’s Rainbow Dash! I think she’s filing a complaint.”

From the dining room, Derpy’s husband gave a reply Dash couldn’t make out, but which caused Derpy to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Dash.

“Heh, something he said,” Derpy tittered. “What was it? ‘A-Mare’s-OWN. Order tomorrow, get yesterday’. Very true. They really want you to buy stuff before you know you want it.”

“And you know what?” Dash said slowly. “I really wanted this letter. Even more than I wanted my book.” All of a sudden, she couldn't hold back. Dash burst into a big, cheesy grin. “Because it’s the Wonderbolts who’ve written to say I passed the Academy! Full marks!” she exclaimed, swooping the bewildered Derpy into a twirling hug. “How totally awesome is that!”

She halted, and released Derpy from her hug.

“Thank you so much for delivering it a day late,” Dash beamed. “I really, really needed good news today. And not even Daring Do was cutting it. But this does! Couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“Uh, well, you’re welcome, Rainbow Dash,” Derpy smiled awkwardly, dusting herself off. “We know a thing or two about time, in this family.”

“Yeah…” piped a small voice.

Dash looked down, to see Dinky had joined her mother’s side at the door. She detected something off. The normally bright, cheery filly seemed preoccupied.

“Would’ve been nice for Sparkler to be back on time to eat,” Dinky sighed. “But that thing Miss Heartstrings wanted her for did look super important.”

An alarm bell went off in Dash’s head. “‘Miss Heartstrings’?” she said, stooping to be at Dinky’s eye level. “When was this, Dinky?”

“Oh, Momma knows, it’s not a secret.” Dinky let Dash have a small smile, more typical of her features. “Not like Miss Sugarbean. She’s a spy, y’know. Though I don’t think Miss Heartstrings does.”

At this, Dash frowned. She felt ready to turn away, dismiss this as just kiddie stuff, when Derpy said, “It’s true, about Lyra. I mean, um, that she came by earlier,” she added hastily. “Not half-an-hour ago. Dinky’s friends were leaving, and she turned up.”

“Why?” Dash said, feeling her insides knotting. “What was Lyra after?”

Perhaps Derpy hesitated before replying. But she did reply. “Sparkler,” she said. “They went into the Forest together. Lyra said Sparkler could help her find some precious gem. Weirdly… she didn’t say it, but weirdly, I think Lyra was afraid someone else’d be looking for it.”

~ The Everfree Forest ~

Someone had found the locket.

Not some beast. Someone. An equine. A person.

‘Why,’ Redheart reflected acidly as she stooped to cut another stem, ‘did that someone have to be Zecora?’

Any other creature in the Forest, she could have easily dealt with, employing trickery where brute force failed. But the zebra exile and witch-doctor of the Everfree would be ready for either, holed up in the hut she called home while surrounded by treacherous Nature on all sides. If only nightfall were not approaching! At this stage in Ponyville’s history, the recent friendship between the village and its neighbouring zebra would have made a pony travelling the Everfree less suspicious… during the daytime.

No doubt of it, however. Whichever angle she’d circled it around from, her tracker fixated on the hut. More and more, the locket having a say in being found seemed evident.

‘It can’t just… hide itself away, can it?’ The image was so bizarre it almost made Redheart giggle. ‘A little locket with legs, running away and hiding behind a tree…’

As her surge of mirth died down, Redheart wondered if the blue plants she was cutting up were affecting her mind, despite her protective cloak. Possibly. While midday was long past, this was still Summer, where the heat could have caused fumes to rise.

Nonetheless, it was the kind of bizarre occurrence she missed from Ponyville. Nevermind why a locket would sprout legs and run away, this sort of thing could just happen in the village. Bunny stampedes, rude griffon visitors, marauding dragons, Nightmare Moon…

It made Ponyville chaotic, but it also made it feel fun, unpredictable, made it feel like…

Home.

‘But this isn’t home,’ Redheart told herself. ‘This is another world, another place, another time that hasn’t suffered borne the weight of the Changeling Purges. I’m further from home than I’ve ever been.’

Whatever devious tricks the locket held, whoever it sought to hide with, Redheart would find it. And then, she thought, as she gave one last swipe of her knife through the patch of poison-joke, whatever threat the locket posed would be nipped in the bud.

~ Ponyville, Equestria ~

“Gently does it. We’re almost there. Almost there.”

Bonbon had whispered such reassurances all the way to the hospital. The Redheart she was carrying on her back was flitting in- and out of consciousness, her rush of energy having diminished once she’d tried walking herself.

But she hadn’t fainted. Every injunction, she responded to with an affirmative grunt. Bonbon knew that, with proper treatment, the nurse would spring back to life in a blink.

And at last, her reassurances were no longer a lie.

“Here we are, Redheart.”

They were in the lobby. The nurse, here in the role of a prospective patient, let out a small groan, her eyes still closed, as Bonbon carefully sat her onto a wall-mounted seat, a few seats away from a pegasus languidly reading a magazine.

“I’ll get Doctor Stable,” Bonbon said, well-aware of the looks they were already drawing from the few ponies milling about. “Excuse me,” she called to the receptionist, “I’ve got someone here, she’s been doped to the eyeballs on sedative!”

“On it,” called the receptionist, as she disappeared behind the desk. She’d obviously recognised her colleague.

“It’s gonna be okay, Red,” Bonbon whispered. “It’s gonna be okay…”

She had never liked hospitals, least of all at night. While it wasn’t completely dark yet, the Sun had disappeared below the horizon as she carried Redheart across town. So the hospital lobby was lit by the cool, pale glare typical of such places. Bonbon hoped this was what made Redheart look whiter than usual.

Redheart managed to force her eyes back open. “Don’t worry… about me… Find… Lyra…”

“Heh,” Bonbon said wryly, “I think Lyra’s as safe here as she’s gonna be…”

“Redheart… My goodness, what happened to her?”

Bonbon’s head turned sharply to meet the speaker. It wasn’t Doctor Stable. It was the pegasus who’d been reading. His magazine lay dropped on the floor, forgotten.

“I’m not sure. I just… found her like this,” she said summarily. No need to cause a panic.

But the pegasus, a sleet-grey stallion, didn’t seem ready to let the matter rest. “Is she injured?”

“No… no, I don’t think so,” Bonbon said. Her forehooves were still on Redheart’s. “But she’s had a shock. I wouldn’t rattle her, sir.”

“Who…” Redheart forced out, swivelling her eyes towards the stallion.

He knelt down, next to Bonbon, to look at Redheart. “It’s me, Redheart,” he said softly. “It’s Icewind. Of the Royal Guard. We had a date. Don’t you remember?”

There was no recognition in Redheart’s eyes. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know you.”

The stallion closed his eyes. His head bowed, and stayed that way for a long moment, until he reopened his eyes, raising his gaze to face Bonbon.

“She didn’t show up,” he whispered. “I looked all over town for her. Asked where she lived. But when I got there, the lights were off and the curtains drawn. Then it got too dark outside, and I still didn’t know where she was, but I couldn’t find her on my own.” He swallowed. “I know, I should’ve alerted the Town Watch. But I knew there’d be thestrals here, doing the night shift. I came and asked for help. Then I didn’t know what else to do.”

Two words, technically three, stuck out to Bonbon. ‘Royal Guard’ and ‘thestrals’.

“Pardon me,” she said. “You’re a Royal Guard, you said?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Corporal Icewind, recently deployed to Canterlot from Vanhoover. Our motto, ‘one with the wind and sky’, Miss…”

“Sugarbean,” said Bonbon. “Sir, can I take you aside for a sec?””

Surprise crossed Icewind’s face. He gave Redheart another look, hesitating. “Uh, sure? But what about her?”

“The doctor’s just arriving,” Bonbon said, directing Icewind’s gaze towards the corridor. It was true. Doctor Stable was marching up, flanked by the receptionist and a nurse Bonbon didn’t know. “And Redheart’s in a good enough state to talk to the doctor. Right, Redheart?”

Once more, Redheart groaned. Yet she nodded.

“Alright,” Icewind nodded grimly. Once they’d moved a couple of paces from the chairs, he spoke again. “So. What happened? Did she slip and fall?” His voice trembled. “Is she… amnesiac?”

Bonbon shook her head. “No. I found her…” She dithered. “All wrapped up and warm, nothing broken. But she’d been put into a deep, unnatural sleep. She’s lucky I had a medkit at hoof. My partner’s a walking disaster area.”

“What…” Icewind said. “I saw her just three, four hours ago. You saying someone knocked her out on her way to the bakery, and stuffed her away?”

“It might be worse than that,” Bonbon said quietly. “I think Nurse Redheart’s been gone for a whole day. Something a lot like this happened to my partner, a few months ago. She was one of the bridesmaids at the Royal Wedding.”

Silence fell.

In this silence, however, the change her words wrought on Icewind was tremendous. Where before, his eyes had been full of concern and boyish spirit, that spirit went out of them. What was left in their stead was too cold to be called anger – or rather, the kind of anger that felt right in such a stallion, despite his frosty name. No passion, only a granite hardness. His lips thinned.

“I see…” he said in a low, flat voice. “Thanks for informing me, Miss Sugarbean.” He turned his back on her. “Please, excuse me. I need to report we may have a Changeling situation.”

Bonbon watched him go, feeling sorry. She glanced at Redheart, who was being fussed over by Doctor Stable. Redheart was known to be a flirt. This must by why the Changeling had chosen her to impersonate. And this poor Guard, by the look of things, had been hoodwinked.

Yet, as Bonbon stood in the lobby, vague unease crawled up her spine.

Something here didn’t match the profile. If it was a Changeling who had caught and replaced Redheart, why hadn’t she been enveloped in a cocoon? Not even Princess Celestia had been spared that, during the Wedding Invasion. Didn’t Changelings operate as a Hive? Sending one single drone to feed seemed… unambitious. And with all of that, she realised, she still had no idea how the ‘human’ creature linked any of this together.

As Bonbon waited, unable to will herself to go find Lyra, she hoped she hadn’t inadvertently supplied false intel.

~ The Everfree Forest ~

The locket contained something true.

Whatever ‘true’ thing, Zecora did not quite know, as she reflected whilst making the evening rounds of her hut. Still, until such time as it was relinquished, hanging the locket by the mouth of her welcoming-mask did complement the decor. Admittedly, Zecora had considered wearing the locket herself. Keeping it close by, acting as additional finery for her golden neck-rings, would have felt like a double gain. But this somehow had not seemed right. Some fine-tuned shamanic instinct told her this trinket was meant to be worn solely by its owner… Such a shame. It’d have looked good on her.

Zecora heard her cauldron sizzle and spit, and glanced at it anxiously. To her relief, none of the broth had splashed upon the precious keepsake, a sure distance away. Nevertheless, she needed to be careful. While she awaited its rightful owner to reclaim it, she had a duty to keep it safe.

The apple soup was bubbling and frothing away, another hour from being good and ready. Nodding in satisfaction, Zecora went to contemplate the more exotic array of concoctions she kept on her shelf. Her gaze fell upon a tiny bottle of violet liquid. Since she’d returned from the chasm with the heart-shaped treasure, the bottle had ceased to glow, gone dark once more.

Whereas Zecora could only concoct most potions a few days before they were required, there were a few she’d held onto for a lifetime, never knowing if they’d be used. Of those rare tinctures, a rarer number yet had properties still not fully known to her. The violet tincture, this memory-of-the-alicorns potion, must be imbued with a deeper magic, in resonance with the Tree of Harmony’s song. All those times Zecora had visited the Tree, seeking to better know it, she’d only seen her own reflection staring back at her, from the crystal...

What made this locket special, for the Tree to finally ‘speak’ to her, asking she retrieve the jewel?

‘A token that provides us protection, taken from a precious collection…’

Indeed, that which caused the Zebra of the Everfree an uneasy reflection was that in this world, there were many such unique and valuable items. In her associations, which she still preferred to keep to herself when she could, the tincture of the memory-of-the-alicorns was but one; the heart-shaped locket, merely the latest.

When last year, the magician Trixie Lulamoon had cast her spell upon the village, using the powers of that Amulet, Zecora had felt tempted to bring out a rare possible counter to its power, before deeming it wiser to school young Twilight in the arts of smoke and mirrors herself.

Nevertheless, the properties of one specific relic had been entrusted to Zecora, not so long ago, by one daring, enterprising adventurer whom many believed simply a storybook hero.

‘This precious relic of a golden hue, which resembles a horse’s shoe…’

She glanced at where she kept the Half-Gilded Horseshoe of Sunflare. Key to unseen realms such as the Spirit Circle and the Hidden City of Cirrostrata, it rested in its tiny cabinet upon the shelf, unassuming, for all the world merely an elegant horseshoe that had, alas, sustained rust and beating on one side.

Perhaps Twilight could help her solve these mysteries, once the studious unicorn returned from wherever she’d gone. Zecora had to smile at the irony. Merely two years back, visiting Ponyville had always meant entering an empty village, where the outsider from Canterlot was the only one prepared to greet her. Now, when she had vital news to deliver, it seemed she’d encountered the whole village when visiting earlier, except for Twilight. She would try again tomorrow.

The memory of how the villagers used to shun her unfamiliar appearance made her think. Casually, Zecora strolled over to her bed, reaching underneath to extract her travelling-case. After a prudent glance through the open window, she opened it up.

As usual, the frameless mirror, although tall, needed to be stood on the bed for her to get the best view. She had indeed grown, since that long-ago trip to Saddle Mareabia. That was good, of course, especially as she’d grown in more than height.

Smiling, Zecora admired herself, from the front, then the back, and the front again. No question, she’d filled out where it mattered, she thought as she traced a forehoof along her reflection. Giggling softly, she leaned forward, her lips forming a kissy-face…

A knock at the door rudely snatched her from her reverie.

Nerves set aflame, Zecora leapt back from the mirror. Upon coming to her senses, she rushedly stuffed it back into the case, slamming the lid so hard, she might have broken the glass. Luckily, nothing did break. But who would come visit her at this hour?

Her staff stood leaning against the wall by the door. As she marched up, Zecora seized it, before opening to find–

No-one, and nothing. Other than a small, knotted-up paper-bag on her doorstep. Confused, Zecora stared at the unexplained package. From somewhere within, faintly, she heard a hiss.

She had no time to react before the bag exploded into a cloud of blue smoke.

~ Ponyville, Equestria ~

When the door burst open, Winter was startled out of his slumber, finding himself jolting away from the locker he’d been leaning his head against. His first thought went to how doors slamming near him had become a habit, today. His second thought was a rush of anxiety. He’d overslept. But, before he could think this through–

“Icewind?” he mumbled, surprised when he saw who it was. “Weren’t you off on your date?”

Yet the look on his friend’s face, when Icewind strode into the locker-room, broke off all further questions.

“You’re still here,” Icewind said tonelessly, without looking at Winter as he went for his locker. “Didn’t expect that. Still, good. You’re still in uniform. Where’s the key?”

Then, before Winter could reply, Icewind saw the key on the table and seized it.

“Icewind, what’s the matter?” Winter said, rubbing his eye and standing up while Icewind unlocked the compartment. He hadn’t seen Icewind like this since… since the Wedding Invasion. “Did the date not go well? Wait… date… my da-!”

“There never was a date,” Icewind said, still toneless. “Not for me. I just spoke to Selene. She agrees this emergency trumps her orders to watch over the human’s bedroom. She’s gonna use her night-sight to scout the area.”

“Selene,” Winter whispered, the name coming back to him. “Darnit! I told her I’d be taking a nap once I finished my report! Why didn’t she come and wake me? She forgot! That darn sleepyhead–”

“Don’t worry about Chamomile,” Icewind cut in. “You can tell her you missed her this evening because you got called back. At least you can still spend time with her afterwards.” He slammed his helmet on. “Someone’s gotta watch over the creature. And with Gibbous still out in town, that now leaves you.”

“Wait, what?” Winter had never felt so taken aback. “Gibbous left his post? And where’d Selene go? Did you–”

“Selene already asked me to apologise on her behalf, Winter. Said she forgot to wake you cos’ she was tired. And Gibbous, in her words, had his head in the clouds. But that’s not important now. It’s night-time, Selene’s out hunting and when she finds Gibbous he’ll be too, and I’m joining them. We need you here.”

“Where are you– Why do I–”

“You really don’t pay much attention to people, do you?” Icewind said lowly. “I asked Gibbous earlier to help me, when I thought she’d got lost… my ‘date’,” he hissed as he fastened his barding. “When I should’ve been asking him to help capture her.”

Then Winter began to understand.

“We’ve got a Changeling on the loose,” Icewind growled. “And we must catch it before it hurts anyone else.”

~ The Everfree Forest ~

“How much further, Sparkler?” Lyra asked tiredly. “That’s the fifth nettle I stepped on. I’m itching all over.”

Sparker paused, quietly, eyes shut below her glowing horn. Under the forest canopy, with the stars out of sight, her horn provided the only light. Despite all of her discomforts, Lyra still didn’t dare light her own horn. It’d be so very stupid, to risk throwing Sparkler’s magical luminescence off-track, when they were perhaps inches away from their goal...

“It feels very close now.”

“Thank goodness,” Lyra grunted, scratching herself. “There I thought I had the Everfree sussed out… Nurse Cross was right, the Forest at night isn’t my idea of a fun safari. How’re you so… unblemished?”

“Experience?” Sparkler shrugged. “Here, let’s go see what’s behind those trees.”

She went ahead, took a peek, then stepped back, giving Lyra room to look at what she’d found.

“Lyra,” Sparkler said softly, dimming her horn. “I think we’ve found it.”

And Lyra, when she saw where they were, laughed with relief.

“Zecora…” she whispered. “Good old Zecora. Of course she’d be the one to save a mystical locket.” She pointed towards the steam, coming out of the crevice in the branch which served as the tree-hut’s makeshift chimney. “Look, she’s home. I bet you she’s waiting for us, with apple-soup on the fire, or a lovely hot stew.”

“Yeah, but…” Sparkler frowned. “Does she usually leave her front door open?”

Now she mentioned it, Lyra noticed. Not only was Zecora’s door open, but pieces of unidentifiable papery stuff covered the entrance. And unless her eyes deceived her, a faint, wispy blue mist lay in the air...

“Looks like someone set off a firework,” Lyra commented nervously.

But Sparkler, who knew all about fireworks, shook her head. “Don’t think that was a firework,” she said. “And not even Rainbow Dash would go to this trouble to prank Zecora.”

The thick knot of dread reappeared in Lyra’s stomach.

“Zecora’s in trouble,” she whispered, “we gotta help her.”

“No, Lyra– wait!”

She dimly heard Sparkler shouting after her, but Lyra didn’t look back. She was speeding off towards the hut, intent on doing the right thing, before the knot in her stomach grew too much for her to ignore.

What she found inside, brushing past the blue smoke, was nothing she’d have expected.

The heat within the hut was at the level of a sauna. She’d been wrong about the steam from the chimney. The cauldron wasn’t just cooking, it was boiling – scorching, even. Bubbles emerged from the froth and burst in less time than it took to breathe in life. Streaks of runny, acidic green liquid flowed over the rim and sizzled against the metal.

An equine figure lay, groaning, on the floor at the far end of the hut. It took Lyra a blink to recognise her as Zecora. But this was not Zecora as she normally looked. Something had changed about her. Instead of her regular grey hues, she was nothing but one dark mass, patched with whitish-grey welts.

For a horrible moment, Lyra thought Zecora was flayed to within an inch of her coat. Then she noticed Zecora’s mohawk and glyph-mark,, and it came to her – Zecora had been inverted. Those welts were not welts, they were her stripes. Only, the black-and-grey patterns had utterly switched places.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” someone sighed. Lyra jumped. A figure stood at the cauldron, face hidden by the thick steam which rose throughout the whole hut. “I hoped the poison-joke would do something more... debilitating, to her. So, this is how I learn, that her biggest weak spot is her vanity.” The figure spat into the cauldron. “Still, it did end up giving me the upper hoof. Too distraught over her looks getting spoilt to fight back properly, she was.”

Lyra recognised that voice. It couldn’t be…

“Nurse Redheart? Is that you?” she gasped. “What… what are you doing?”

“What do you think?” said the figure, stepping out from behind the cauldron. “The same as you, Miss Heartstrings. I was after Reiner’s locket. It just happens I got there first.”

She was wearing a muddy-scarlet cloak with insignia Lyra thought she knew from somewhere. And in her hoof, the nurse held a heart-shaped locket, dangling by a chain.

“That’s Alex’s…” Lyra said, stunned. “Give it back.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss Heartstrings,” Redheart said sadly.

“But… why? Why?”

“Surely you’ve guessed.”

The scarlet cloak. The insignia. Royal Guard insignia. Redheart hadn’t been in the Royal Guard for five years… not in this Equestria, where life, though never entirely peaceful, was usually lovely and unthreatening…

“You’re one of them.” Lyra’s mouth fell upon. “A pony of the Solar Empire.”

The cloaked Redheart did not deny it. “Then you know what this makes you. The Empire’s greatest enemy.” She paused, her face a mask, where only her eyes told of her thoughts. As Lyra read it, they were not at consensus… “My oath pledges me to do no harm,” Redheart said suddenly. “And it is against our principles to shed blood, when we can avoid it. Least of all equine blood.” She nodded towards the groaning Zecora. “She’ll live. I merely…” Redheart raised her spare forehoof. “Gave her a pinch. Doubt she saw me using her own people’s martial arts against her...”

Lyra felt herself go cold all over. If Zecora, with her prowess, couldn’t beat Redheart, what chance did she have?

“It’s not too late to step away,” Redheart said, holding up the locket. “Lyra. Forget you ever heard any of this. I haven’t come to hurt you. I haven’t even come to hurt Captain Reiner, or to take him away. Humans are tenacious, but I’d never believe a single human could bring doom to all of Equestria. He can live his life out here, if he wishes, and perhaps find some measure of peace…”

“Why?” Lyra whispered anew. “What about that locket? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to destroy it,” Redheart said simply. She lifted it above the acid boiling in the cauldron.

“No!” Lyra screamed. “No, you mustn’t!”

“You can’t stop me!” Redheart snapped. “Whatever this is, it’s obviously magical. Humans with magic… I’ve seen what they can do. I cannot think of anything more dangerous. That’s why I must do this.”

“You’re… you’re killing them…”

“What?” The incredulity in Redheart’s voice was genuine. Such that she pulled back the locket. “Surely that’s not what Reiner told you! If we wanted to kill them, we could just let the Barrier consume them and be done with it. Didn’t he tell you we give them a way out?”

“A way out? You’re… you’re stealing their world, and their souls…”

“The human’s only shown you one side of the story,” Redheart said. “He wants you to feel sorry for him. You’ve no idea what they’re capable of. What, did he tell you the Barrier was destroying his planet?” She took a deep breath. “No. The Barrier’s cleansing his world. That is no lie. What it does to the humans it touches... is a regrettable side-effect... but it solves all the harm they have done to their planet. The air and the ground, filled with poison… the oceans, so full of tiny pieces of plastic, no clean-up effort could ever get rid of it all. Not without magic. The Barrier works. It takes it all away.”

Lyra stared at her. Her jaw had gone slack.

Behind Redheart, the window above Zecora’s bed swung open, noiselessly. It was pushed by a purple forehoof, followed by a violet-and-purple-maned head, well-known to Lyra, peeping through. Sparkler saw everything. But Lyra didn’t look her way. She kept her eyes on Redheart.

Sparkler pulled herself through the window and landed on Zecora’s bed, the noise muffled by the duvet.

“And no harm the Barrier does, can match what they do to themselves…” Redheart said morosely. “They hate and they kill each other. It is their way. Don’t believe me? They elect leaders who despise them, who rob them of their freedom and dignity... they think only being a philistine is honest, they let themselves get distracted by shiny things and gunpowder... And they always, always, find someone to blame for their shortcomings.”

She met Lyra’s gaze.

A sweating Lyra, for her part, struggled desperately not to break it. Sparkler was creeping up behind Redheart. Here, what Lyra did notice was that Zecora’s staff had been left lying next to Zecora. Sparkler must have seen it too, because she picked it up in her mouth, with an apologetic glance at the zebra. She then continued on tippy-hoof, one side of the staff tilting to level with Redheart’s nape...

“We did seek peace in the early days, Miss Heartstrings. The ponification serum was our olive-branch, a means to welcome lost souls into Equestria. But that wasn’t enough for them... They began trying to steal magic from us… a few, then more, and more... Perhaps we should’ve fled, yet that ship had sailed. Once they knew of Equestria, there was no stopping them. Even if we sealed all the portals, they’d have found us. Because they are cunning. Cunning enough to trick ponies like you, who’d have sold our secrets… You dreamt you could help them. You know what they did? Men like Alexander Reiner took that dream and weaponised it.”

Somewhere inside her, Lyra worked up the courage to retaliate.

“And what you do is better?” Lyra yelled. “I saw Alex’s mind. I know what he told me. You turn them into twisted little half-ponies, you destroy cities and homes, you’ve erased thousands of years of culture and history! And I know you’ve done worse even than that! I don’t know what he meant when he said ‘recycled into useful biomass’, and I don’t want to!”

Rage surged in Lyra.

“Don’t you dare pretend you’re the hero here!”

“Have it your way, Lyra,” Redheart shrugged. “I’ve been at war too long to believe there’s such a thing as a perfect hero. You made the mistake of believing in the perfect victim. And if I’m no hero, the human’s kind are no blameless innocents. Does that make me worse than him?”

“It sure as Tartarus doesn’t make you better!” Lyra retorted.

Sparkler swung the staff.

But Redheart, without warning, turned on the spot and caught it clean between her forehooves. One mistake, however – she dropped what she’d been holding.

“The locket!” Lyra shouted. “Sparkler, grab the locket!”

Even as Sparkler turned on her horn, Lyra did the same, both their auras embracing the locket. Yet, with a cry, Sparkler’s focus died when Redheart struck a spot between her shoulder-blades, and–

Lyra couldn’t believe what she saw. With the swiftness of a preying mantis, Redheart’s forehooves darted all over the pressure points on Sparkler’s body – poll, hock, point-of-hip, all.

Sparkler fell to the ground, her body a rigid board, paralysed as Zecora was.

In her shock, Lyra failed to rush forward...

“It’s no use,” Redheart said, seizing the locket. She dangled it above the white-hot cauldron. “This ends now.”

The locket dropped into the boiling liquid.

“No!”

But even as Lyra reached out with magic, it hit the surface.

For a second, nothing happened. Then–

“What…”

A burst of rainbow colours filled the room, blowing back both mares.

Dazed, Lyra struggled to get her vision back into focus. The room was packed with colour. But these weren’t just the colours of spots in front of her eyes, she saw, mesmerised. These colours were there, all around her. Coming from the cauldron.

The locket emerged, hovering, from the boiling broth, shining all the colours of the rainbow in quick succession.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

Lyra had almost forgotten Redheart. The imposter-nurse lay splayed on her hooves, gawping at the locket.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Redheart screeched. “What’ll it take to destroy this thing!?”

This time, Lyra didn’t miss her chance. In one flick of magic, she pulled the locket out of the air, looping the chain three times around her horn, until it was wrapped down to the base.

“Yoink!” she yelled, turning and fleeing. Lyra hated herself for it. But she had no better choice. This locket was the heart of everything.

‘If I get through the door, I can run all the way to Ponyville and get help!’

“Get back here!”

With an uncanny burst of speed, Redheart rushed towards Lyra, biting down on her tail. Lyra yelped, all momentum gone as she collapsed to the floor.

“No!” Lyra yelled.

A blast of kinetic force shot out her horn, knocking Redheart slam-dunk off of her. The wood of Zecora’s hut cracked and splintered as the nurse impacted against the wood.

‘Did I kill someone?’ Lyra thought for a fraction of a second. ‘No, no n–’

“That’s not going to knock me down,” Redheart said, though her speech was slurred. She picked herself up from the rubble and dust, wobbling ever so slightly. “One little foal’s kinetic spell is nothing. Ambassador Heartstrings had years to refine her battle-magic… As have I. You know which side came out on top of that battle. So many Imperial soldiers wish they were the ones who brought you in. I wasn’t granted that privilege, though I was but one of many in the Iceland Campaign– your abortive little attempt to end Her Majesty’s crusade before its time.”

Lyra scrambled back to her hooves.

“Now I get to be,” Redheart said, curiously calm as she stalked past the paralysed Zecora and Sparkler, and the still-bubbling cauldron. “By old unicorn rules, you just fired the first shot, Lyra Heartstrings. Earthpony though I be, this means I’m within my rights to use lethal force...”

‘I’m going to die.’

There was no fear in Lyra’s mind. No burst of adrenaline. Only cold certainty. Redheart snarled, rearing up and driving a foreleg straight towards her–

Lyra rolled to the side, and felt the floor crack where her head had been.

‘That would’ve been me!’

Lyra scrambled backwards on all four legs, watching Redheart advance towards her. It was too hot to think, she couldn’t see in the steam, everything was happening too fast...

“Archtraitor,” Redheart hissed, raising her voice but not quite yelling. “Apostate, turncoat, liar!”

‘She… it’s like she doesn’t even see me…’

“Because of you, ponies turned traitor! Against Equestria. Themselves. Ponykind. Foals have grown up knowing nothing but the unceasing hell that is Earth, all because of you!”

“I didn’t–” Lyra started, before Redheart stomped down on the floor.

Lyra rolled to the right, Redheart’s hoof just barely missing her left hock. Panicked, she looked around for a weapon, her gaze finally settling on a ceramic jug.

She reached with her magic, feeling it envelop the jug–

“No,” Redheart snarled, driving a hoof down towards Lyra’s horn.

Lyra scrambled back to all fours, rolling out of the way from Redheart, keeping her gaze firmly locked on the jug. Her aura firmly locked around it…

And she hammered against Redheart’s face.

The jug didn’t break. Redheart did. She staggered back, woozily, and Lyra raised the jug again, going right to bringing it down on what she had thought was Ponyville’s kindly nurse.

Redheart growled, using the jug’s momentum to swat it aside, sending it to shatter on the ground, and knocking back Lyra.

“It’s not me!” Lyra yelled, raising her forelegs up to block Redheart and rear up, trying to remember something, anything of a fighting stance. “The Lyra that did this… wasn’t me!”

“You’re a Lyra. And that’s enough,” Redheart said, as she swung a hoof in a wide unsteady arc, the hoof impacting with Lyra’s right knee. “Your existence itself is a threat. You, Lyra, are a blight upon ponykind!”

As Lyra stumbled, her admittedly-shoddy block faltering, Redheart turned her back to Lyra… and drove both hindlegs into her ribs.

Lyra wheezed, flying back several paces. She tried and failed to breathe.

“Redheart, you don’t have to do this!” Lyra pleaded. Except, with the hit to the gut, it came out slurred, barely coherent. “You said you’d do no harm! This can’t be what your nurse’s training prepared you for!”

“But it is,” Redheart whispered. “I may not be a doctor, but I have worked in the medical profession. Sometimes, amputation is the only option.”

Lyra choked, finally feeling breath come back into her lungs.

“I won’t stop until I get that locket,” Redheart said. “Tell me, then. Would you kill me to stop me getting at it?”

‘Something,’ Lyra thought frantically, ‘have to, have to do something! Think, Lyra! Brute force hasn’t worked, so… so think of something, anything–’

“Redheart!” Lyra yelled. “Whoever you are. This… this is another universe. I’m sure we can talk it out, I… I know you. I know how happy you were outside the Guard. I know you liked this town. I’m sure that if you stopped, you could find somewhere quiet on this Equus. Calmly. Peacefully. There’s no need for us to fight.”

For a moment, Redheart stopped.

“I… I would enjoy that. It’s been so long since I was able to go to Cafe Hay,” Redheart said softly, her eyes looking elsewhere. “or the Ponyville Diner, even Sugarcube Corner. To just stop for a moment and enjoy.”

“They have a chocolate cherry coconut cupcake made by Pinkie Pie,” Lyra offered.

“I would like to try it. And it’s been so long since I’ve had something like that. So long since they had Pinkie round to bake it. I would… I would like to…”

Lyra breathed a sigh of relief, feeling air in her lungs once more.

However, Redheart’s face suddenly faded into a mute expression. “But I cannot stop now. Not at this moment. Not when Equestria depends on me.” Her eyes were hard, devoid of any warmth. “For you to almost tempt me into forsaking my oath… this is why you must die.”

‘What?’

But she had no time to think as Redheart leapt, bearing another heavy blow.

Without thinking, Lyra started to rear up. That was the wrong thing to do. Redheart’s lowered head crashed into her exposed stomach, and Lyra doubled over, wheezing, struggling to breathe.

Before she knew it, this gave Redheart the time to do to her what had been done to Zecora and Sparkler – the sharp pinch dug into her shoulder-blades and elbow joints, freezing her nerve-endings. She collapsed to the mossy floor of the hut. She could no longer move her upper muscles. Worse, something had cut off the magic inside her, as in a last shred of instinct, she tried powering her horn, and all that came out was a weak spark.

What she did feel in her horn was the pain as Redheart yanked off the locket.

Some strength remained in her legs. Dazedly, Lyra aimed a kick from the floor at Redheart, but the nurse easily dodged, almost as an afterthought, while she put the locket around her own neck. Then two more pinches stabbed into her hips, and Lyra found she could no longer move at all, except breathing.

Redheart loomed over her. Lyra shut her eyes. This was the end...

“Not like this,” she heard the nurse whisper.

Her eyes came back open. Had she been reprieved? Lyra saw, then, that Redheart wasn’t looking at her, but in the direction of her friends, who still lay there, helpless as she.

“They don’t have to see this,” Redheart commented, seizing Lyra by the scruff of the neck and pulling up her rigid frame. “I shall take this outside, Miss Heartstrings. Miss Zecora keeps a lovely patch of flowers in front of her dwelling… when they find you, at least it’ll be in a good place to be laid to rest.”

Absurdly, Lyra’s only thought, at that moment, was whether all in the Solar Empire were this poetic about the crimes they committed.

* * * * *

When Redheart would think on this later, she knew her small act of mercy had been her undoing.

Or maybe not. Maybe the sole difference it made was giving her one less life on her conscience. Everything which occurred next would likely have been much the same. A few steps out the front door counted for little, when the course of events was changed by the arrival of a new player.

With her attention on dragging Heartstrings out by the shoulders, Redheart’s back was to the door when the newcomer came. She didn’t hear her land. She did hear her shocked gasp.

“What the– Redheart! What the blazes are you doing here?”

She turned her head. And the speaker was a prismatic blue pegasus she couldn’t have not recognised. Rainbow Dash was standing there, her wings flexed, looking completely flabbergasted.

“I…”

But what could she say? That she’d found these three in the hut, paralysed by an unknown assailant? That she was left standing over three barely-conscious mares, dragging one out with visible marks of exertion?

Heartstrings, however, still had control, if nothing else, of her tongue. “Redheart…” she rasped, physically unable to face her rescuer. “Other Equestria... Imperial... here… somehow...”

Cursing silently, Redheart clamped Heartstrings’ mouth shut, but it was too late. Any chance she’d had at inventing an excuse to fool Rainbow Dash had evaporated.

“Let go of her,” Dash snarled. “I’ve had enough of my friends being threatened today.”

At first, this comment confused Redheart. Then she put two and two together.

“If the human’s already threatened you,” she said quietly, “then you know he isn’t safe. We learned that bitter lesson years ago.”

“Oh, shut up,” snapped Dash. “It’s been a really long day, and I’m in a bad mood.” She pawed at the ground, snorting. “I’m gonna count to three. One, two–”

Desperation guided Redheart’s hoof. It overrode the last of her qualms. If she could not escape with the locket, she could still strangle the weed at its roots. One of the hooves that had been holding Heartstrings under the shoulders flew, to try and grab her by the neck...

Rainbow Dash was a swifter, more spontaneous flyer. The countdown had no sooner died in her throat that she darted forward.

The impact turned Redheart’s vision white as she felt herself release her grip on Heartstrings. Dash, relentless, came in with another strike. The kick caught Redheart on the left side, sending her careening back into the sauna-like hut.

And her face knocked straight onto the rim of the super-heated, acid-filled cauldron.

The event did not register immediately in her mind. Then Redheart screamed.

Yet amidst the blistering pain, survival instinct took over. Digging her hooves into the ground, she tore her face away from the cauldron – feeling a thin film of the skin off her cheek tear with it – and snapped back to glare at Dash, who was just standing there, open-mouthed, shocked at what had happened. With a shriek of unbridled fury, she charged, lunging at the pegasus with greater force than she’d ever had for Heartstrings.

‘Do no harm.’

Her right forehoof suddenly lost any sense of weight, and veered off an inch away from Dash, into the wall.

‘I had that!’ Redheart thought, frantically.

Next to her, Dash yelped in alarm, just realising how close she’d come to getting her teeth knocked out. But Redheart was more alarmed still. She gazed at her hoof wedged in the wall, bewildered and uncomprehending. Her aim should have been straight and true…

Grunting through foam-flecked lips, she pulled it out and threw another punch at Dash. The pegasus managed to dodge this one, but even if she hadn’t, the outcome would have been the same – Redheart’s forehoof was pushed to the ground.

“Some fighter, huh?” Rainbow Dash grimaced.

‘How?! How is this possible?! I’m throwing everything I can at this Rainbow Dash, but nothing’s landi–’

Dash tackled her. Both mares skid, painfully, down the little staircase within Zecora’s doorway. The ‘thud’ was resounding enough to topple several jars off the shelves. At least their combined weight stopped either from hitting the cauldron again.

Redheart tried to fight back, but her forelegs had gone limp. They flopped about harmlessly, completely failing to push off the pegasus, and a feeling of indescribable tautness shot through her limbs when her blows did hit.

‘Do no harm.’

“Say ‘Uncle’, Redheart,” Dash panted, pressing down on her. “It’s over. You’re not gonna win this.”

It was true, Redheart realised with horror. There was something stopping her from truly hurting this Rainbow Dash. She couldn’t think. She could scarcely breathe. Her burnt cheek was agony.

‘Subject identified as Element Bearer. Protect. Serve. Do not harm unless ordered.’

“Un…” Unwillingly, Redheart felt her lips form the words. “Uncle...”

Dash eased her pressure. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Redheart’s head rolled to the side. This was how her eyes fell upon one of the toppled jars. In falling, it had spilled its contents, a fine mixture of sepia powder. Mere inches away from her forehoof...

“Now,” said Dash, standing up. “You’re gonna tell me what you did to my friends, and how I–”

Yelling incoherently, Redheart swiped at the powder. Her aim, it turned out, hadn’t given up on her – as intended, motes of sepia hit Dash in the eyes.

Dash cried out, stumbling in pain, hooves going to her eyes. In doing so, she left the way open to the door.

Redheart didn’t wait twice. She had her saddlebags. She had the locket. She’d done all she could. Now, all she could do was flee. She ran out the door, off the path, into the Forest, not stopping to rest, not knowing where she was going.

* * * * *

“Flaming Tartarus! That… that two-faced little cheat!”

Her eyes were burning. Rubbing at them only made it worse for Dash. The feel of grit was terrible. Worse yet, though, was knowing she had let Redheart get away.

“I’ll get her for this…” Dash snarled. “I’ll get her…”

“Dash…” a voice wheezed.

It wasn’t Lyra. “Sparkler?”

“Don’t worry about me,” whispered the unicorn, still floored, still unmoving. “Check on Lyra…”

Sparkler and Zecora both looked in bad shape. But Lyra was the one Redheart had been really after.

“Okay…” Dash whispered back, trying to see through her watery vision. “I’ll… I’ll try to help…”

She found Lyra outside, lying stomach-down near the doorstep. Dash turned her over, feeling a chill. But Lyra was breathing. Her eyes saw Dash.

“Did you…” Lyra said softly. “Did you stop her?”

Shame washed over Dash. She shook her head. “No… Redheart took the locket. I don’t know where she’s gone. But… Sparkler and Zecora… they’re safe, for now…”

Lyra coughed, raspily. “Well… that’s one good thing.”

“Lyra, I need to get you to the hospital...”

“Already had enough trouble with hospitals today,” Lyra chuckled weakly. “Besides, how’re you gonna carry the three of us? What if she comes back?”

“I don’t think she will,” Dash said. “But I can’t just leave any of you here…”

“Ah,” Lyra gave another cough. “Someone’s gonna come looking for us. Sparkler’s family, they know where she went.”

“Yeah,” said Dash. “They told me. But that’ll take too long. I’ve gotta get you all outta here, pronto.”

A strange sound caught her ear. It was a low, moaning sound, coming from the cabin. And she recognised it. That was Sparkler.

“Hold on,” Dash said, gingerly slinging one of Lyra’s stiff forelegs over her shoulders. “I’ll take you by inside. I think Sparkler’s trying to say something.”

She was right. When they re-entered the hut, Dash supporting the near-motionless Lyra, they found Sparkler, her chest heaving. Her forehooves were twitching, like she was desperately willing them to move, to point. Her eyeballs were fixed on a specific shelf.

Dash followed her gaze. “Fireworks?”

“Y… yes,” Sparkler. “H… helped Zecora… make them.” Behind her, Zecora grunted, as if in confirmation. The zebra seemed to have no wish to even try speaking. “Now you can… use them.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Sparkler,” Lyra smiled tiredly. “Go for it, Dash.”

* * * * *

Icewind was the one who found her. Though he lacked either of the thestrals’ night-sight, perhaps it was because he had the greatest drive to find her. Where he found her, as it turned out, was maybe the most appropriate place he could have. In a space of the Forest where the canopy thinned, very slightly, into a tiny clearing by the path. She lay, crumpled, exhausted, her white coat rendered ghostlike in the early moonlight, before a tree with its trunk twisted in the shape of a skull.

The oldest omen known to pegasi. The sight chilled his heart, yet he dared land. She didn’t look him.

“So…” he said quietly, folding his wings. “This is where you vanished off to.”

She must have recognised his voice, for still she didn’t face him. “Do you hear them…?” Redheart whispered.

Icewind tilted his head. “Hear what?”

“I can hear the bells… the bells are loud, tonight,” she said softly. “It’s a night when you can’t help but hear them.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, harshly. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Oh, but you will,” Redheart said, staring up at the tree. “Because I’ve failed.” She tugged at something that she wore around her neck. He peered at her in the moonlit gloom. It was a necklace, or locket of some sort. “I cannot continue,” she whispered. “I know what I must do, I want to do it… yet, something has broken within me.”

“Has it now?” Icewind said venomously. “Has guilt caught up with you? Was I the one victim too many for you to feed on, Changeling?”

He regretted those words almost as soon as he’d said them. Not because they might hurt her feelings. Because they took him back, to painful memories which, on some nights, still lingered behind his eyes. A city under siege. He and Winter, Guards sworn to protect, yet unable to help fleeing, screaming ponies as they were pursued by insect-like creatures with arctic-blue eyes, icier than the snows of home...

And nothing compared to the stare of the Changeling Queen herself, boring into him, reminding him what it meant to be prey.

“Changeling?”

To his surprise, she gave a little, broken laugh.

“Is that what you thought, Icewind?” Redheart said. Finally, she turned to face him. “I’m not a Changeling. I’m as Equestrian as you are. Only… from a different place.”

Icewind shook his head. This had to be a trick. “You lied to me.”

“No,” Redheart said. “Not about those things. I really am Redheart, and I really did want for us to simply have a nice evening… it’s been far too long. But…” she sighed. “Yes. Maybe I did deceive you. I didn’t mean to… but I was selfish. I let myself get distracted from my duties. For that, I am truly sorry.”

She leaned closer, showing the whole of her face, and that was when he noticed the scars on her cheek.

“Celestia in the heavens…” he whispered. “What is that?”

Redheart touched the burns, wincing. “Your chance to decide. If I were a Changeling, this is how you could hurt me, until I’d be incapable of keeping up my disguise, from the pain.”

“Those weren’t there before.” Icewind knelt down to be level with her. “Who did this to you?”

“Ponies… ponies did. It was an accident,” she said, stopping him from speaking. “They’re not evil, you know. How could they be, when this Equestria is as it is now. But they’re making a terrible mistake.”

“About what? What mistake?”

“The human,” Redheart said, her words carrying a weight he’d never heard. “Let me guess, Icewind. You still get bad dreams from the Wedding Invasion, don’t you?”

The shift in topic, so sudden, surprised him.

“Yes…” Icewind said, frowning. “And if you are a Changeling, you won’t frighten me that way,” he added, menacingly. “In fact, you couldn’t give me a better reason to do something bad to you.”

“I know,” Redheart said simply. “But, it sure was a great party, wasn’t it, after they’d got repelled?” She gave him that same broken laugh. “Sometimes, I think Equestria’s too big on trying to solve problems by covering them up with smiles and rainbows… But that’s not what we did then. Not forever. Even though ever since, we’ve tried so hard to go back to that…”

“What do you mean?”

Redheart breathed in. “Changelings were my enemies,” she told him. “Where I come from, I rejoined the Guard, like so many did, following the disaster at the Wedding. At first, all we wanted was to defend Equestria, make sure it never happened again. Then a new disaster struck, when Princess Cadance failed to reclaim her Northern throne, and we were only lucky we’d prepped the Guard for a fight… we hadn’t expected a full-blown war.”

“No… this is nonsense,” Icewind muttered. “I’m from the North. I know the Crystal Realm. Sombra was defeated! Princess Cadance rules there now, next to Captain Armor.”

“Maybe that’s true on your world. It wasn’t true on mine.”

“Prove it.”

She spread her forehooves powerlessly. “How? I can prove I’m not a Changeling. I can’t give you proof of an entire world.”

“Alright, then, how about this,” Icewind said. “The human. What’s he got to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Redheart said, again tugging at the locket. “Darkness spread after Canterlot, when we tried to fill the breaches. We killed Sombra, after a short, yet terrible war… Nor did we stop at Chrysalis’ Hive. Celestia did what she should’ve done a long time ago. She united the tribes. Not just the tribes of Equestria– I mean all people like us. The Saddle Mareabians, Maretonians, Oleandrites… hippogriffs and zebras, even a few griffons… She welcomed them as one. They helped us to… relocate the roaches, into reservations where we could control their numbers… And still the rot was there! Cultists, on the edge of Equestria… The Storm King, re-emerging. It took all our forces to push him back. He’s the Kirin’s problem, now.”

Icewind listened, rapt at attention.

“And so, we rose. Brought together, we studied the magics of the Crystal Realm. A golden age of innovation came upon us. New ways for ponies to correspond with their friends, watch broadcasts beamed directly to the home, and play games much like an arcade machine’s. Sleeker, faster trains. A new marvel of engineering seemed brought to life every week. Trottingham’s Trans-Luna Bay Bridge, the Victory Tower in Manehattan, which is like a city unto itself... the Vanhoover Skyport, with its fleet of skyliners, each larger and more opulent than the last... The Great Equestrian, created by Krème Brulée himself.”

Her eyes looked down at the forest floor.

“But in time, into this new age, Celestia discovered something else,” Redheart whispered. “Rifts in our world... chasms, opening it up to another. Well, we needed to find out what lay on the other side. To begin with, what we found was a very well-kept secret, known to only a few intrepid souls… In time, though, Celestia deemed it safe to let ordinary ponies explore by themselves. But it wasn’t. She’d been betrayed. And too soon, our golden age was coming to an end.”

“Betrayed? By who?” Icewind asked, wanting to hear the end, in spite of himself. “Just what lay on the other side?” Although this, he could now guess.

Redheart raised her eyes to meet his own. “Humans, of course… One of the explorers, a diplomat named Lyra Heartstrings, persuaded Her Majesty they posed no threat. She lied. The rot, this darkness we couldn’t defeat, had everything to do with these rifts… these portals, as we came to name them. We made a mistake trying to contact the humans. Their hunger was as consuming as the rifts… and as one grew, so did the other. All of the darkest things in their world came to be mirrored in ours. We had to stop them. We had to.”

Icewind pondered her words. The things she spoke of were beyond any Changeling, any great threat he could have imagined. It all sounded unbelievable. Yet he sensed a truth in what she said.

A faraway hiss in the sky drew his attention. He looked up, through the patch. Against the starry backdrop, a red trail streaked upwards, to explode into a shower of many-coloured sparks and a joyful noise.

“A firework?”

“Or signal-flare,” Redheart sighed. “Once the Lunar Guard see that, it won’t be long till they find me.”

“They won’t have to look for very long,” Icewind commented. “This changes nothing. Nurse Redheart, on the charge of abducting and endangering an Equestrian citizen, I am taking you in.”

“It is your duty.” No reproach, no retreat. Just resignation. Maybe regret. “Like I followed mine.”

He hesitated. “You say they burned you. Who’s they?”

“Does it matter?” Redheart said, her eyes glistening. “Just some ponies who heard the human’s story and believed him over me. It was a fight. People do bad things in fights.”

“But what were you fighting over?”

“This.”

Her hoof went to the locket. Now that he examined it more closely, Icewind saw it was in the shape of a heart, coloured a dark red, possibly coated in satin.

“A locket?” He blinked. “You had that trinket custom-made?”

“I wish...” the nurse said, with a melancholic snicker. “Actually, it belongs to the human, Alexander Reiner. Please now, don’t ask me what it does. I have no idea. But I can tell it’s a very, very powerful magical artefact. Which is never something a human should have.”

“He must’ve wanted it back real bad…”

“That he did.” Redheart trailed a hoof down the burns. “Enough for him to send a few mares he’d only met yesterday to take it from me.”

Unexpectedly, she seized his forehoof. By all rights, he should’ve wrenched himself away. He did not.

“I know I can’t expect you to trust me,” Redheart whispered, unclasping the locket with her other forehoof. “Yet I feel I can trust you. Take me in, go ahead. Your duty asks it. I’ve done harm to ponies.” She paused. “But you’re not duty-bound to make me answer for stealing from a human.”

She pressed the locket into his forehoof. Icewind stared at it, not quite believing what he saw.

“I… can’t…” he said quietly.

“You can. For the good of Equestria.” Redheart looked at him pleadingly. “Hide it under your armour. No spell will find it there.”

He took it from her, not knowing what else to do. Wordlessly, she went back to contemplating the Death Tree.

* * * * *

Sparkler’s idea worked. Soon enough, a thestral Guard came swooping down from the night sky.

By coincidence, Rainbow Dash had met him a few hours before.

“Miss Dash?” blinked Gibbous. “What are you doing here?”

Dash shrugged. “It’s the only place I really know in the Forest, besides the Castle,” she explained. “When I heard Lyra and Sparkler had gone, um, trekking, this is the first place I thought of. Lucky guess.” She stepped out from the doorway, letting him see inside the hut. “I spotted trouble brewing miles away. Literally.”

“Indeed…” Gibbous said, peeking in. “It’s like an oven in here.”

“And things didn’t get half hot, for a while back there,” Dash sniggered.

But although she tried to make a glib joke of it, the snigger quickly chocked in on itself, as the memory of when Redheart had smashed against the cauldron, getting burnt, left a queasy feeling in her stomach.

There had been some fun in fighting off the Changelings with her friends. This fight hadn’t been fun at all.

Gibbous was inspecting the three mares lying side-by-side, making eye contact with each in turn.

“I know this,” he frowned. “Farasian nerve-pinch technique. Heard of it, never learned it myself. But I thought only zebras used it… what, have we got a rogue zebra, a second zebra, here in the Forest?”

Dash actually considered that possibility before she answered. “Nope,” she said, softer than she’d meant to. “It’s… actually, it’s way too complicated to explain.”

“All in good time, then,” Gibbous nodded. He stared towards Zecora. “Oh… is that a new look, Miss Zecora? I… I must say, it suits you.”

Zecora just snorted and looked away. Which wasn’t by much, as she couldn’t move her head.

Sighing, Gibbous turned back to Dash, flapping a wing. “I’ll get Selene. And you can help, it’s still not gone completely dark. If the three of us pull our weight together, we should fly these mares to the hospital in no time.”

“That’s awesome,” Dash said quietly. “I’ll just keep watch some more, then.”

As he left, Dash sat by her friends, trying to smile. “Hear that, guys? You’re gonna be all better soon.”

“Great,” Lyra said dully, while Sparkler said nothing, gazing blankly up at the ceiling. “But I wish I could give Alex his locket back.”

~ Ponyville, Equestria ~

It was a bitter feeling that hung over the hospital, Celestia sensed, even before any futher news reached them.

“She has been gone for, what, two hours now? Three?” In the bed, Reiner folded his arm towards himself and looked down at his wrist. Then he blinked, confused, as he apparently didn’t find what he sought there. “Oh, yeah. Right. Nurse Cross must’ve taken my watch as well.”

Humans used wrist-watches, Celestia noted. Check that off as another similarity in the species, though ponies’ wrist-watches were, admittedly, mainly a curiosity produced by the Kirin. She was still curious to learn at just what level of technological advance human society stood.

“Lyra Heartstrings left this room two hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-three seconds ago,” the ghostly Galatea said promptly. “Her time of departure was, to the minute, 19:48.”

Reiner glanced at her. “Thank you, Galatea,” he said placidly. “Well, it sure took you long enough,” he addressed Celestia, “to get that badge or whatever so you could come back. In nearly three-thousands years’ rule, you seriously haven’t made any contingency plans for when your magic runs dry?”

Celestia fumbled the Chancellor’s Medallion, feeling awkward. “Contingency plans are not lacking, Captain Reiner. The problem is, each plan keeps meeting a different setback, and has to be revised. This medallion,” she emphasised the word, “is currently one of the few like it. For reasons I’d rather not go into tonight, it was decided it’d be safest with the Chancellor of the Education Association.”

The human nodded, in a seeming mix of weariness and approbation. “A leading figure of education,” Reiner commented. “Wish my country set that much stock by it.”

“Anyway,” said Celestia. “Now Luna’s out searching as well, she ought to bring Lyra back safe.”

“And my locket?”

“I’m afraid that depends on how protected it is,” Celestia admitted reluctantly. “We’re dealing with a magic I’m completely unfamiliar with. It may well surpass alicorns, or even the Elements.”

“You keep saying it’s magic,” Reiner said. “But you really don’t know what kind of magic it could be? Galatea over there has some idea, it seems,” he thumbed towards the alicorn, “but she ain’t exactly letting on.”

“I meant to ask about that… ‘Sister’,” Celestia said, turning to Galatea. “When we met, you said you’d give us all the answers you could, once you’d spoken to Captain Reiner. You told him you’re the reason he’s here. But here we are, in a room with the human, and you still haven’t told us everything. Why?”

“In part, I confess that I do not know what questions you would ask,” Galatea said. She looked at Celestia expectantly.

Celestia looked at her, contemplative.

“So, then,” Galatea said. “Ask away.”

“On some level, I’m not sure I want to,” Celestia said. “I can take it, I’m certain of it. It’s just that I know it will be a lot to process.”

“Yes,” Galatea said. “It would be. You are correct, though. You are an alicorn. If any pony could take the news of what has become of Earth and that other Equestria, it would be you.”

“So, then,” Celestia said. “What has happened to the other Equestria?”

“That’s a very broad question,” Galatea said. “Not one I can answer in great detail, not at the moment.”

Celestia nodded. “I see. Then what did Reiner expect when he came here? What makes that Equestria different?”

“His Earth has experience with repressive regimes,” Galatea said, her tone growing colder. “Places that couldn’t care a whit for the rights of their citizens. He has grown up learning of places with watchers in the shadows, that make agitators or the unlucky simply… disappear. The Empire crusades against humanity for harbouring those regimes, yet saw fit to create more of the same. There are mnemosurgery clinics where ponies simply have their doubts removed, rather than come to terms with them. All while the Newfoal, this half-thinking, unquestioning golem that was once a person, is held up as the ideal.”

“It sounds horrific,” Celestia said, her heart heavy.

“They don’t make it look that way,” Galatea remarked. “That’s merely it under the surface. They paint rainbows on the street, they have parades of military might, they make a show of the advances the war has brought them. They feed their citizens a steady diet of entertainment they’d never admit to being inspired by Earth. Those clinics I spoke of? Officially, they’re there to give the concerned citizen an ear to express their fears and doubts to. In terms of national unity, or technology, Equestria has never been greater. But, as a paradise, it’s solely for the equines who do not hoof the line. If you wish me to speak in metaphor, then imagine a delicious apple… with a rotten core.”

“You sounded almost like Zecora, there,” Reiner mentioned.

“What say you, Captain?” Celestia said. “Does this match up with what you know of Equestria?”

Reiner nodded glumly. “I’m afraid yes. Not that I’ve ever seen it for myself. No human has, not really. She…” He coughed. “You know who I mean, Princess. She only let a special few humans in, during the peace days, and that was using temporary ponification. Sure, they brought back photographic evidence, but how do we know she didn’t doctor the whole thing, including their minds? We’ve taken no chances. Of those poor sods, none of the ones we tracked down have a private life anymore.”

“Beings shaped like humans but with the minds of Newfoals…” Galatea mused. “Such a construct would be challenging to pull off beyond a mere glamour, and I’ve found no clue to suggest it’s been attempted. But you are right to be cautious about our enemy’s cunning. Prudence is a virtue.”

A knock echoed on the door.

“I think the rest will have to wait,” Celestia said, rising from her chair. “This must be about Lyra.” She gave Galatea another glance. “Will you be visible during what’s to come?”

“I’d sooner mine existence weren’t known to too many, just yet,” Galatea replied. “Hence I shall recast the spell so mine astral-presence is no longer visually perceptible. Such scrying is harder to maintain, yes, and mine magic is near-depleted as it is – I am rather out of practice. But not to worry, this shouldn’t take long.”

The grey alicorn vanished from view. Celestia remained staring for a second at the spot where she’d been, then went to open the door.

“Ma’am,” Sergeant Winter Truce greeted her, saluting. “Princess Luna has returned, in the company of all Guards dispatched to the Forest. Sergeant Gibbous and Corporal Selene of the Lunar Guard, and Corporal Icewind of the Solar Guard. They bring back…” He checked a notepad. “Five. All mares. But… I can’t determine whether all of the five are civilians, or only four. It’s… unclear.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Military personnel? Out in the Forest?”

“Like I said, Ma’am. Unclear. You may have to see for yourself.” Winter took a breath. “It appears to be that three of the mares were incapacitated, by the alleged military operative. Her Highness has already had them placed in the care of Doctor Stable and Nurse Snowheart.”

“Did you get the names of the incapacitated?”

“Affirmative,” Winter said, lip scrunching in recollection. “Amethyst Star, Lyra Heartstrings, and Zecora, no surname given.”

Celestia heard a clatter from behind her. She turned. In a gesture of shock, Reiner’s arm had upset his food tray, sending it tumbling to the floor.

“Fucking hell,” Reiner exclaimed. “If it isn’t the Three Musketeers! How am I hearing, after Amethyst and Zecora were two of the last people I saw on Earth, that now they’re in the same hospital as I am! And Lyra…” His breathing intensified. “Is she alright?”

“None of the three appear to have been dealt lasting damage, sir,” Winter said, unfazed by the human. “Their incapacitation,” he continued, turning back to Celestia, “by all reports, comes in the form of a nervous paralysis associated with a martial art practiced by a Zebrican tribe. On that note, the zebra, it would seem, is suffering from the effects of poison-joke. All of this is unpleasant, but not irreversible. Doctor Stable is seeing to it as we speak.”

“Good,” said Celestia, though she felt apprehension in her gut. “I shall visit them forthwith–”

Reiner threw the bedsheets off. “I’m coming with you.”

“Not without support, Captain Reiner,” Celestia said firmly. “You’re still too weak, and those burns haven’t been properly treated. I shall call for a wheelchair your size. Sergeant?”

“On it, ma’am,” Winter said, saluting again.

When the wheelchair arrived, it was being pushed by a very knowledgeable nurse.

“There you go, sir,” Nurse Cross smiled as she helped the human ease his legs. “Hopefully you won’t find this too uncomfortable. The closest frame of reference I’ve got to your proportions are an adolescent Minotaur’s, and even then, you’re not as tall or broad-shouldered. I’m counting on this to collect more information about your species’ physiognomy.”

Reiner stared. “Still up, Sutra? Jesus, I’d have thought, in this Equestria… don’t you ever go home?”

Once the nurse had got over her surprise at him using her first name, she went back to smiling.

“Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘this’ Equestria, Captain,” Cross said. “But, it’s not like a xeno-surgeon gets that many non-pony patients to care for, so I work around the clock, as a way to justify my employment.”

“Yeah, you always were dedicated…” Reiner said, in a tone of regret.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” said the human. He picked a book off the bedside table, and held it close to his chest. Peering, Celestia identified it as one of Twilight’s library books about humans. “Just… please, I need to see Lyra.”

They all left for the hallway, Winter leading the way, Celestia trotting alongside Reiner while Cross rolled his wheelchair. Although she couldn’t see Galatea, she knew the grey alicorn’s astral-form was following.

“One more thing,” Winter said, slowing his pace temporarily to level with her. “The alleged perpetrator… this is what’s most befuddling. For a start, she’s currently in treatment as well, for second-degree acid burns… But…”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Well,” Winter said, showing her his notepad. “They say she’s hospital staff. And according to what I can find, this evening, she has been checked in… twice.”

“Twice?” A horrible suspicion invaded Celestia.

“That’s what they said at reception.”

“We shall shed light on this matter,” Celestia said, willing her voice to keep steady.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He led the group towards the window at the end of the hallway, where the last two doors opposite one another were each guarded by a thestral. Both Lunar Guards snapped to attention at seeing Celestia approach.

“Here we are,” Winter said. “We ran into a few complications. Princess Luna wanted the incapacitated and the perpetrator put in rooms which faced each other, and the perpetrator confined to a room by herself. We managed to find an empty three-bed room for the incapacitated, but the patients in the room opposite had to be relocated at very short notice. Expect grumbling from the hospital board.”

“That can be dealt with,” Celestia assured him. “Where is my sister?”

One of the thestrals, the male Sergeant named Gibbous, answered for Winter. “Right here, Highness,” he said, indicating the door behind him. “She’s keeping watch on the suspect personally, along with the Solar Guard who brought her in.”

“My partner, Corporal Icewind,” Winter explained.

Celestia hesitated. “Sergeant, you say the incapacitated are in no immediate danger?”

“To my understanding, ma’am.”

“Then…” She addressed Gibbous. “I should like to speak with the suspect, and my sister first, Sergeant Gibbous.”

“At orders, Highness,” Gibbous said, stepping aside to let her through.

Yet, before Celestia could open the door, she heard Reiner speak.

“Princess Celestia,” the human said, his voice sounding odd. “With your permission, I wish to meet this… ‘alleged perpetrator’, too.”

Celestia turned to Reiner. His arms were clutching the book he’d brought along, and there was a dark, foreboding look on his face that wasn’t as unfamiliar to her as she’d have liked. This very morning, it had been aimed at her.

“I doubt that’s a good idea...” Celestia said slowly. “Alex.”

“If there’s two of her,” Reiner said, arms tightening around the big book, “Then either one is a Changeling, or they’re already here. I need to see it. Now.”

She did not like this. Yet, out of everyone here, the human had the fairest claim to make, having fought the Empire for years. Meanwhile, Nurse Cross stood at the wheelchair’s handles, ridges on her forehead deepening as she struggled to puzzle out just what had happened in the past day or so.

“Your Highness...” Cross suggested. “If it helps, I can stand by, to monitor the Captain’s well-being.”

Celestia relented. “Very well,” she said, pushing the door open. “Let us see what we find inside.”

Inside, what they found were Luna, who looked grim, and Corporal Icewind, not his usual exuberant self. Both were standing guard by a bed which held–

“Redheart?” Cross gasped. “Red? What the… what’s going on here?”

Already it was worse than Celestia had feared. This was Redheart, but a much changed Redheart from this morning. For one thing, Celestia was horrified to see, her right cheek had suffered a burn. Her forehooves were in cuffs. And her eyes… her eyes told a woeful story.

Then the human’s gaze fell upon the interloper.

“You...” Reiner snarled.

Celestia’s alicorn senses told her that he spoke his next words in a different language. His own. In his anger, the human must have forgotten himself, and forgotten the courtesy of speaking Equish in the ponies’ presence.

Thus she learned that her Gift of Tongues, innate to all alicorns, knew his tongue as well.

“Cadance trusted you. Those refugees trusted you! And now… how? How is it that somehow, the Tyrant always manages to plant the likes of you on our team, a brainwashed stooge just clever enough to fake it? How the fuck do you get past Cadance’s mind-checks?”

Redheart stared at him, a look of contempt in her eyes. “Patience and fortitude shield those of us who go amongst the heathen, human,” she replied, speaking in Equish. “But you… you sully Equestria with your bloodlust, your anger.”

Reiner didn’t appear to hear her. “You know…” he said, in words that reverted to Equish seemingly more on instinct than by conscious choice. “I was almost beginning to like this. In fact, I did like it. Sure, at first I thought I was having some psychotic break... It didn’t help, when I realised I couldn’t remember what day it was. But after awhile, you know? I started liking it just… the... slightest... bit. Nobody here to remind me I’m a war criminal. No stress, no war... just being able to sit back and focus on me.”

He spat out that last syllable. As he did so, he seemed to almost… vibrate. He seemed to either glow, or draw the light out from around him, his entire outline tinging with blue...

“I might’ve known it was too good to be true.” And, groaning, fists clenched, he stood up from the wheelchair.

‘The background magic… it’s supporting him,’ Celestia thought. ‘He’s brute-forcing himself back up. He’ll do severe damage to his body if he keeps on like this.’

“Alex,” Celestia said, getting ahead of the still-flabbergasted Nurse Cross. “Please, calm down. We have her restrained. There’s no need for–”

Reiner made a harsh noise. It sounded vaguely like a laugh, yet it couldn’t have been one.

“Oh, there’s plenty of need,” he said quietly. “You think you have ponies like her under control. Right up until everything goes to shit. And here I find her.”

“She’s in a hospital room,” Celestia said. “I don’t know what it is you think you’re going to do. But if you don’t care for what happens to her, care for yourself. You should halt this buildup in your system, or–”

“Or what?” Reiner demanded, turning towards her. “Go on. Prove me right. Stop me. I dare you. She hurt my friend. And if I know the Empire, I know they’re already working to turn all of this to shit.”

“What more can she do?” Luna asked. “She’s in a hospital bed, far from–”

Reiner turned his back on the two alicorns and stalked towards the bed.

Alarmed, Celestia caught Luna’s eye. “Sister,” she mouthed.

“Back home, they have a saying,” Reiner whispered. “An eye for an eye. Now, I’ve heard people say that’s the wrong road to go down, but we’re at billions of bodies thanks to her and her Empire, and twice as many eyes. This won’t even be a scratch.”

He didn’t have a weapon. Somehow, that worried Celestia more.

She saw Icewind step in front of the bed.

“Sir…” her Guard began.

The human wasn’t about to let him finish. Tattoos glowing a blinding blue, Reiner raised an arm...

But Luna stepped between him and their little ponies, her horn shining.

“Lamed Vav Tzadikim!”

As before, the mystical phrase had an instant effect on Reiner. The lustre left his eyes, and his body went limp. Only this time, he was standing when it did. Seeing this, Celestia hurried forward, catching him in her forehooves before he crumpled to the floor.

“I’m bringing him back, fast,” Luna panted, horn still shining, as she helped Celestia place Reiner back in his wheelchair. “This trance-state’s meant to help him, but it can’t be good, not twice in one day!”

No sooner had she said that, the human’s eyes burst back open. Gaze darting around, he found Celestia holding him by the arms, reared up with both forelegs hooked over his shoulders.

“Fuck you!” he roared. “I’ll rip her apart, and I dare you to stop me!”

Icewind was staring at Reiner, a look of horror in his eyes.

“Do you know what this bitch has done?!” Reiner yelled, struggling against Celestia’s weight, against the magically reinforced pressure of her forelegs. “Do you know?! Do you fucking know?! If it’s not her who’s done it, then it’s someone just like her! What she’s done today isn’t even a drop in the bucket. Are you gonna protect her, Celestia!? Tell me I’m wrong!”

Throughout all this, the otherworldly Redheart had lain in her bed, surveying the scene with eerie calm.

“Wrong?” she chuckled bitterly. “You’re one to speak of wrong, Alexander Reiner.” She pointed towards Nurse Cross, who was huddled by the wheelchair, overwhelmed. “Why don’t you tell these fine ponies about the last time you enacted your brand of justice, and why. Tell them about Angelo. Most every good pony of Equestria knows what you did to him. And to what end? Retribution? Retribution for what? Because a pony, my dear friend Sutra, was killed by humans. She was on your side. And they murdered her. Murdered her… and worse.”

“No,” Sutra whispered. “No no no…”

“These humans visited every torment they could upon you, Sutra,” Redheart said. “And more. Think of something, and they did it. They placed it on a human communication network for everyone to see. It was not your love of the unknown, the exotic that did you in. It was these humans. These monsters. The ones that did it to you laughed. They enjoyed it. Saw it as high art.”

Although Reiner’s face was scarlet with fury, Celestia felt him sag in her forehooves.

“They were bastards,” Reiner said, “who deserved what they got...”

“And yet, you hired one.”

“He was the one who sold them out,” Reiner growled. “We owed him, much as I hate that! We still had him placed on a penal sqaud. That was good enough for the likes of him.”

“Or could it be you were more alike than you think?” Redheart asked. “You just said they deserved what they got. Does that include little Angelo and his mother?”

“She pulled a gun on me,” Reiner said. “I… I didn’t know. It was instinct. Gardner led us there, we were told it was full of remorseless scum, that they played with bones, that they had feathers in their hair, that they–”

He was shaking with unplaceable emotion, Celestia felt. Breathing heavily. Gingerly, without saying a word, she lowered him into the wheelchair.

Not far from her, Icewind had gone to wrap a wing around the trembling Cross.

“Besides, Alexander Reiner, if an eye for an eye would sate you,” Redheart said, raising a cuffed hoof to the burns on her cheek. “I may not have inflicted those burns on your chest, not personally. But I’d say we’re even now. Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Reiner managed to sneer. “Not even close.”

“It’s not wrong to want her to pay,” someone said. “But… she’s a prisoner, Alex. It’s over. We’ve won.”

Everyone turned towards the source of the voice, only to see Lyra at the door, looking much worse for wear.

“I must apologise, Your Highnesses,” Winter said, standing behind her. “She insisted. Wanted to hear what the noise was about. So did I, for that matter. ”

Luna nodded distractedly. “You did right, Sergeant… this could have turned very ugly. But,” she wondered, “Lyra, how did you get out of bed?”

“Easily?” Lyra asked, seemingly confused. “I… I just walked here.”

“You shouldn’t be walking,” Luna said. “You were hurt very badly, Lyra.”

“I was,” Lyra said simply. “Alex. There’s no need to hurt her.”

“But…” Reiner started. “Lyra–”

“I mean it.” Lyra walked up to him. “We can reason with her. We let the justice system work, we keep her under guard, and… Don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Don’t hurt her?” Reiner asked, incredulous. “She tried to kill you! Don’t tell me she didn't!”

Redheart, too, looked disbelieving that Lyra was begging clemency on her behalf.

“I’ve been hurt so much today,” Lyra said. “I… hurt. Everywhere. I don’t think there’s much need for any more hurting today.”

Celestia’s gaze swept over the room.

“She’s right, Alex. But so is my sister. Lyra, you need to be in bed,” Celestia said. “Winter,” she added, addressing the Guard, “may I request you escort Madame Heartstrings back to her room? And I’ve changed my mind. After this, I must see to…” She glanced at Cross, who was still being comforted by Icewind, then the Redheart on the bed. “Nurse Cross. I fear she’s had quite a shock... I’d also like to visit the Redheart who first got checked in tonight. My sister will collect your and Icewind’s reports. Meet her at the cafeteria. I’ll come back later to speak with this Redheart… Alone.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Wait,” said Lyra, stopping Winter in his tracks. “What about… the locket?”

True to her word, Celestia had been moving to check on Cross. But Lyra’s words caused her eyes, along with Reiner’s and others’, to fix on Redheart.

The pony who was not one of Celestia’s ponies smiled coldly. “I threw it into the river,” Redheart said, her inflection bland. “I couldn’t destroy it, but I made sure it wouldn’t be found.”

“Luna?” Celestia asked her sister. “What do her thought-strands say? Is she telling the truth?”

By her side, she felt Icewind stiffen. This didn’t surprise her. From what she remembered Sergeant Gibbous telling her, he’d been let down terribly by this stranger Redheart.

“I…” Luna sounded perturbed. “I have already attempted to delve into her mind, Celestia. Yet something blocks my path. Powerful magic, unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Her thoughts feel like they’re coated in thick tar. To all intents and purposes, she’s shielded from me.”

Reiner snorted. “Funny. The last time humans met you, you had an explanation for that… I’ve got a constant sense of déja vu here...”

“I do not possess all the experience of the one you met.”

“So… you’re saying you can’t do it?”

“I am the Princess of Dreams, sir,” Luna reminded him. “If someone can unlock this, I am the one. But it won’t be tonight. For now, we must assume she speaks true.”

“The little bitch…” Reiner whispered from his wheelchair. But Celestia was taken aback to see him holding his head in his hands. “Oh, God… lost… she’ll never forgive me for losing it…”

“It may not be as lost as it seems, Alex,” Celestia interjected. “I shall give the order to have the river searched from mouth to source. And we might find help within the river itself. I am informed it is inhabited by a friendly, if flamboyant sea-serpent. Nonetheless… I won’t lie, this could take weeks, even months.”

Reiner peeked at her from between his fingers. “We won’t have weeks.”

To look at him, Celestia had assumed he was on the verge of crying, but when he lifted his head, his eyes were burning as they shot a last, hateful glare at Redheart.

“Get her out of my sight,” Reiner hissed. “Before I do something I won’t regret.”

Luna walked away from the bed. “Allow me to escort you, Captain,” she said, grabbing the handles. “A royal favour, if you wish to call it that.”

“That’d be wise. And we shall do what we can, in the time given to us,” Celestia said stoically. “Now. Lyra, I must insist you follow Winter. Icewind,” she told the sleet-grey pegasus, “thank you for your care. Join Winter, I shall take Nurse Cross from here.”

“See you in a minute, Alex,” Lyra whispered, departing.

Meanwhile, Icewind nodded wordlessly as he stood up and left Cross to Celesia.

“Come with me, Sutra,” Celestia told her gently. “I’ve got a few things to explain.”

* * * * *

By the time Alex had calmed down, the Guards named Winter and Icewind were long gone to the cafeteria, and it had gone pitch-black outside the far window.

Luna’s ear twitched as she picked up a sound unheard to him, or the thestrals. “Gibbous, Selene,” she told her Guards. “The Moon still shines bright, above the clouds. You may take half-an-hour’s leave.”

“Your Highness?” the two said simultaneously.

“I shall watch over Captain Reiner, and our prisoner, until my sister returns.”

Uncertain, Selene and Gibbous exchanged glances. But Luna was their sovereign. They heeded her word.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Both of them saluted and left.

As soon as the thestrals were out of sight, Alex saw a familiar spectral figure coalesce in the hallway.

“Galatea,” Luna said coldly. “I take it you witnessed everything.”

“Indeed I did, Sister,” Galatea replied. “This astral-projection is very convenient, admittedly. A pity it only works with another alicorn to serve as a beacon. Being able to use it with your willing cooperation has felt so… liberating.”

“More’s the pity you didn’t see what occured in the Forest.”

“Alas,” Galatea said stiffly. “Although…”

Luna craned her neck. “What?”

“Hard to say...” said Galatea. “Yet sometimes, I sense this… there are regular ponies with the alicorn potential within them. At least one such potential, I have sensed in Ponyville. Maybe two.”

“Fascinating,” Alex said dryly. His focus wasn’t on her. It was on the door to Lyra’s hospital room. “So, when do I tell Lyra, about the other-you speaking to me through the other-Bonbon, with the creepy white eyes and the bloody Voice of the Legion? And we still haven’t finished sorting how I got here.”

“Soon we shall, I promise,” Galatea said, exchanging looks with Luna. “The loss of the locket is unfortunate, but we will course-correct where we can. For now, mine assessment is that you had better seek an emotional closure with Miss Heartstrings.”

“Dunno if that’ll ever happen…” Alex muttered.

But he rolled his wheelchair and went through the door.

As the Sergeant had said, the room was occupied by three beds, with Lyra now in the middle. She raised herself, blinking, when he came in. To her right, Sparkler rested. In the third bed was Zecora, and sitting by her was...

“Rainbow Dash?” Alex said. “When did you come back here? Where are the others?”

The prismatic pegasus shrugged. “I had a book to read. My friends are still in Canterlot… well, except Fluttershy. She and Discord went… went off somewhere.”

In front of him, Lyra gave a bittersweet smile. “Hello again. Sparkler. Zecora. Meet Alex.”

“You don’t know me,” he greeted them. “But we’ve met. On another world.”

Sparkler nodded. “Then if you know me, sir, you’ll know that, incredible as this all is, I can believe it.”

“In many a song is it said that beyond this world, to be found are others past the veil unfurled,” Zecora stated. “Where one may find one’s self as if in a mirror, imbued with greater virtue or greater error.”

“Good to hear ya talk again, Zecora,” Dash commented.

Privately, Alex reflected on how often he’d wondered what Zecora’s poison-joke affliction might be. Turned out it was reversing her coat colours. Despite the poor zebra’s plight, he found some humour in that.

“Apologies for cutting this short, but I gotta talk to Lyra.” Alex rolled up to her. “Lyra. Thanks for… coming in when you did. For talking me down. Nothing that’s happened was your fault.”

“You don’t know that,” Lyra lamented. “I’m… I am sorry about your locket, Alex. If… if I hadn’t… hadn’t tried teleporting you outta there, it wouldn’t have fallen off.”

“Hey, kid,” Alex said, trying to sound comforting. “You were saving my life. I’m glad you didn’t end up losing yours. Not again. What’s a trinket worth next to that?”

But Lyra had noticed the book on his lap. Ponyland: Fact or Fable.

“Alex,” she said, pointing to it weakly. “The picture in that book. Doctor Waggoner’s sketch of the pearl figurine on the shore. I saw your reaction to it, right before Galatea showed up.”

Although Alex had taken the book along precisely for this reason, when he opened the corresponding page, it was with great reluctance.

Lyra tapped the sketch. “There. I thought so. She’s holding up the exact same locket. I didn’t get to see it for long, but that was the same locket.”

“You got that right,” Alex said quietly, staring at the sketch. “Freaky, huh? No wonder it gave me a turn.”

“Alex, I’ve got eyes in my head,” Lyra told him. “The human in that picture… you’re the only real human I’ve met, so I didn’t really notice at first. But it’s not just that you look like her. She looks an awful lot like you. Same ears, same nose… even the hair’s almost the same.”

He stayed silent, not wanting to go where this would go.

“She’s your mother, isn’t she?” Lyra said, in such a small voice as to be near-inaudible. “The one you told me of. And that locket’s got to do with the last time a human came to Equus.”

Alex closed the book, refusing to meet Lyra’s gaze.

“We’ll talk about this some other time, Lyra,” he said somberly. “It’s been a long day for me too.”

He was spared her reply by an interruption, from the last person he’d expected.

“Lyra!”

The bedroom door had reopened. In the hallway, there still stood Luna; Galatea had gone again, presumably making herself invisible. But the speaker stood in the doorway, at lower head-height than any alicorn. She was carrying a cup of coffee on her back, which dropped and spilled when she rushed forward, past Alex without even looking at him, and seized the surprised mint-green unicorn in a tight hug.

“Lyra, Lyra…” Bonbon repeated, her voice between a sob and a laugh. “So this is where I find you! You stupid, silly filly, what’ve you got yourself into now?”

“Bonnie? Uh… I…”

“How dare you, staying away from home for two days!” Bonbon shook her by the shoulders. “Leaving Rarity to explain things, and barely the half of it, at that! You got any idea how worried I was?”

Embarrassed, Lyra gingerly gripped Bonbon’s shaking forehooves.

“Bonbon, I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry! But something big happened… bigger than I thought.” She nodded towards the human, drawing Bonbon’s attention to him. “Bonbon. Look at that. I was right. His name’s Alex.”

Alex examined Bonbon’s features as his presence registered with her properly. She was less surprised than he’d have thought.

“Well, isn’t that something…” Bonbon muttered, frowning. “I want to say I’m pleased to meet you, sir. But Lyra was bad enough when she was on the fringe, thinking you were real. Now she’s going to be impossible to live with.”

And Alex, internally, had to suppress a smile. He’d almost forgotten how much of a grouse Bonbon could be.

“It’ll be easier than you think,” Alex said. “Trust me on this.”

“So, he talks,” Bonbon said. “Good to know.”

“Oh, Bonnie,” Lyra sighed, leaning in to hug her, in turn. “I am so sorry for worrying you like that. But you’ve not had anything like the trouble I’ve had today.”

“You think, Lyra.” Bonbon muttered. “You think.”

“I nearly died.”

That threw Bonbon for something of a curveball. “This just keeps getting better… You’ll have to tell me everything. Spare no detail.” She paused. “But it’s over now, isn’t it? You gonna stop putting yourself in harm’s way, from now on?”

Lyra smiled at her sadly. “I’ll start from the beginning…”

Naturally, the full weight of that last exchange wasn’t lost on Alex. Yet in spite of the day’s losses, in spite of knowing too well what difficulties lay ahead… for this small window of time, while he listened to the couple catch up with each other, a couple he’d never thought to see together again, Alexander Reiner felt a bit of weight lift off his heart.

* * * * *

“Thank you for your report, Sergeant,” Princess Luna told Winter, as he pushed the papers across the table. “I’m sorry you’ve had to make so many revisions. Today’s events have nearly overtaken us all.”

“I know my duty, ma’am,” Winter saluted. “However great our burden, I shan’t falter.”

Princess Luna did not answer straight away. She looked above Winter and Icewind’s heads, across the rows of empty, aseptically clean tables of the cafeteria, lost in thought.

“Those are good words... Words we may soon have to live by every day, and night.”

With Winter attended to, Luna finished by turning to Icewind.

“I understand tonight has been… emotionally taxing on you, Corporal,” the Princess said kindly. “And I haven’t forgotten about those troubled nights of yours. Thus I’m not expecting you to show the same extreme assiduity as Sergeant Winter. You can have your report on my desk by tomorrow evening.” She paused. “But is there anything in particular you’d wish to tell?”

As he was sipping his coffee, Icewind thought about it, feeling the locket beneath his armour, pressing against his barrel.

Truth be told, his impulses went against almost every piece of his training as a Guard. However, this was compared to the fact that ignoring Redheart’s story went against all of them.

‘It sounds like a beautiful world,’ he thought. ‘And… we’re letting this outsider in. Instead of striving towards this… this other Redheart’s Equestria.

Do we just… pass up this beautiful dream? Just like that? He’s violent. He’s unstable. He’ll drag us into war.

… And I helped bring in the one mare that’d stop us from following him.’

“No, ma’am,” he said at last. “Nothing.”

Author's Note:

Spectrum 2.1 - Autumn 2021

VoxAdam:

• A new plot breadcrumb; Zecora reflects on her possession of the Half-Gilded Horseshoe of Sunflare, a mission given to her by the Stonecutters and their Magical Council.

Spectrum 2.0 - December 25th 2018

Sledge115: Pardon the delay, heh, but this chapter went through several extensive revisions. Hope it’s worth it!

Now, without spoiling anything, this won’t be the last you’ll see of Ponyville – nor that little mention of the Imperial ideology, so keep your eyes open ;)

Stay tuned! The gap between here and the next chapter should be much shorter, and we got a lot of story to tell

Cheers!

VoxAdam: Sure thing, the time-gap until the next chapter ought to be shorter by default. Seven-and-a-half months is the longest delay we’ve ever had in-between chapters on a Spectrum main story.

This was a uniquely challenging chapter to even sketch an outline for. I wouldn’t call it an exaggeration to say it must have gone through five different concepts, before settling on what you see today.

Over four years ago, I was hesitant to join Team Spectrum, not even as what DoctorFluffy affectionately called a ‘Sixth Ranger’, knowing I wasn’t the greatest at time-management. My time-management’s improved since; my rhythm hasn’t sped up all that much. Mind you, in that same chat, TheIdiot said he felt he’d only done so much for the Spectrumverse… There are things which change so completely over time, looking back on it is like gazing through a mirror into opposite-world.

Thank you once more, TB3, for inviting me to proofread Last Train From Oblivion. What happened after had its ups and had its downs, but your gesture made all the difference.

Back when Redskin posted his bridge-burning journal in May 2017, I came under fire for allegedly slowing the pace on the production schedule, mainly for advocating there be some conscious planning, instead of throwing everything and the kitchen sink at the story. This time around, I suppose we’re seeing the other side of that coin; the various factors such as wanting Bonbon to have an active role, maintaining the centrality of Lyra as our protagonist, Icewind being given a reason for his heel-turn, etc., constituted a huge number of plot points to bring together coherently.

And to be honest, we had written Redheart preparing to do something without knowing for sure what it was; the alternate path she could have taken can be read in Jed’s Cut, which was already planned months ago, and has recently been published independently.

The locket had been introduced as a Chekov’s Gun several chapters ago. The idea to use it as Chapter Eight’s narrative lynchpin came to us as a “Eureka” moment.

Ultimately, if you feel this chapter has an overabundance of building up to action, only to cut away just before it really gets going, in favour of talky scenes? Yeah, it’s a symptom of when much of the writing is given over to me. You may call me Gareth Edwards. Just please don’t call me Rian Johnson. Even if this is a ninth installment.

DoctorFluffy: I… did a lot here, (the fight scene with Lyra, some scenes with Redheart) but I’m especially proud of the line that goes “And all the talk about being able to equal the Solar Empire’s magic was bullshit anyway.” It’s deliberately a middle finger to Red mentioning PHL shields were better than Imperial ones. Even when I was drinking the kool-aid, that never made sense. Also, the bones and feathers thing? I’m like 89% sure it didn’t happen and that Gardner just lied about it to make sure his troops were fired up. It’s a reference to the original plans for Defiance in Light Despondent, which I did not make. They also sickened both me and Vox, and they are a big reason that Light Despondent stalled as bad as it did. Yes, I can blame Red for shit too.

Also, for all of you wondering about canon sidestories, reminder again - Light Despondent and Snowbound are underway, and being remade and/or rewritten to be canon-compliant. Also, Slow Mutants exists. Yes, I know, but if you want MORE of the reboot universe, then check it out.

On another note, Jed - despite his distance from us - does have some related work out there. There’s The Fairport Incident, Map of the Problematique. Check him out if you can - a little positive feedback goes a long way for both of us.[/shamelessplug]

By the way, yes. Yes I did break my back in April. All of that was completely true. I was in the hospital for about two days before they discharged me and I walked back into my house. I’m not paralyzed, and everything below the neck still works. And before you even ask, yes! Yes it does.

The scene where Lyra says “easily” is inspired by that - I was supposed to be in a wheelchair, and I was going to sit and wait to get into the car home, then my phone lost power so I walked all the way to the pharmacy in the hospital. Mom was super surprised, and my answer was “...I walked here.” And she said something else, and I said “Why are you so surprised? I’ve been doing it most of the day.”

TheIdiot: This took forever and a week, didn’t it? Drama occurred from group politics, real life, and other lovely complications that delayed Chapter 8 many times over. It is unfortunate that by the time Chapter 8 (originally) got a completed draft it happened during a week where I had to face a midterm, an exam, and writing a rough draft all in rapid succession set only a day apart each. Honestly, sounds like a tacky episode of some dunce drama show. Probably not Glee, seeing how there wasn’t any licensed song covers sung.

Point of matters is that, yes, this was a labor of production that grew more difficult as real life continued to push down. I am fortunate that Sledge and Vox were able to step up despite these various issues. With Chapter 8 done, I can say knowing that - despite what Murphy might say - Chapter 9 won’t take nearly as long as this multi-month drought.

Until next time fair reader(s),

Carpe diem.

Comments

[TheIdiot]

9366380 You're not dumb, you just expected an actual update. Don't worry, that's coming later today.

[Starcat5]

9366408
I was wondering why the Rainbow Dash scene looked familiar. When I got to the Bonbon/Redheart scene, I had to back out and figure WTF was going on. Thanks for the explanation.

[TheIdiot]

9367185 You are welcome.

[Vibrant lies]

delusions I’m gonna playing sitter for tonight

Huh?

[Yutah123]

Isn't this the same as the previous chapter?

*Looks at the A/N*

Apparently there's some revisions. I haven't noticed, but that's probably because I'm so excited to read the next chapter and sped through this whole thing.

---

Anyway, I'll just repeat this since I feel strongly 'bout it:

“No, Ma’am,” he said at last. “Nothing.”

Mark my words, Icewind, you'll regret this. You haven't even heard the full story. In war, atrocities are committed by both sides; the problem is whether or not those atrocities are considered acceptable by the general consensus of the leadership, and the Imperials are evil as you have never seen before.

Trust your princesses, Icewind. They trust the human over Imperial Redheart.

---

P.S. Happy New Year, everyone!

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

9377511
Yup, Icewind is a fool. Alex has a right to be so mad. How you you like it Icewind if some other race decided your kind was evil and decided to turn you and your fellow ponies into near mibdless copies of that race. Your personality gone.

[FolkloreBrony]

Do we just… pass up this beautiful dream? Just like that? He’s violent. He’s unstable. He’ll drag us into war.

… And I helped bring in the one mare that’d stop us from following him.’

“No, Ma’am,” he said at last. “Nothing.”

Goddamn it.

[FolkloreBrony]

9611415
to be fair, he only has one side of the story, and a polished, glamorous one that's hiding the poison underneath at that

[DDDDDDDDD23]

The thing is redheart is not really a pony anymore. She is now more of an attamoton that reacts based on her incoded orders.

Also icewind is not noble or being deluded he just does not want to admit that he screwed over his nation for pussy.

[Jirodyne]

9623577
That would only be True, if the Princesses aren't involved. But BOTH princesses are involved, and BOTH have sided with the Human.

This is not a single possible way he can justify both Princesses, one who has literally ruled with peace for a THOUSAND years, would look at all this violence and out burst and go "Yeah, we agree with the mass murdering violent being, over the other pony" if it was a clear black and white situation.

Heck, that he's helping the fake redheart is TREASON of the highest order, having been in the room and KNOWING that Celestia and Luna are looking for the Locket and he doesn't give it to them.

Heck, he doesn't even question them on clerifying why they are helping the human or anything. He just blindly accepts this 'Changeling'/'Deceptive Being'. All because as 9634127 said, he wants the pussy, even over justice, the law, or his princesses and rulers.

[Black Jack]

*Burns Ice wind on the cross*

[dvdspires]

So, as far as the average imperial citizen is concerned; the portals are a natural occurrence, humanity is responsible for whatever the wrongness on Equus(?) is and they’re doing Earth a favour by getting rid of humanity.

It’s always the same with authoritarian regimes, the only truth is what the government tells you, and if the government in question has someone like Princess/Queen Celestia in it then as far as the average individual is concerned nothing you do or know is wrong.

The only real question I have is what will happen when the truth eventually gets out and what would the fallout from it be.

[Generic2]

She glanced at where she kept the Half-Gilded Horseshoe of Sunflare. Key to unseen realms such as the Spirit Circle and the Hidden City of Cirrostrata, it rested in its tiny cabinet upon the shelf, unassuming, for all the world merely an elegant horseshoe that had, alas, sustained rust and beating on one side.

Joke's on you, gold doesn't rust... I think.

[Starcat5]

And once again, the Simp is cruising straight for a "Redemption Equals Death", although I suspect that he'll have to settle for dying in regret.

[Fiddlove Enfemme]

“Eh,” Gibbous said. “It’s not so bad, this town. Something’s always going on in Ponyville.”

This is how you properly lampshade something. If there seems to be a sort of trend in-universe, it's not improbable that someone will take note of that trend and comment on it
That does not give a character license to go "hey, wow, look at that oversight we made. How weird and quirky, huh?"
This is the way.

“Rescuing you, of course!” Bonbon said, easing her grip slightly. In her other forehoof she clutched, of all things, an empty syringe. “You were out cold.”

Aha! I thought this might happen. Threads are collecting, and the tension of this early arc is getting higher.

‘ Why, ’ Redheart reflected acidly as she stooped to cut another stem, ‘ did that someone have to be Zecora? ’

That's the trouble with a place as dangerous as the Everfree. Not a lot of folks dare going in there, so the list of folks likely to come across something is very small.

‘ But this isn’t home, ’ Redheart told herself. ‘ This is another world, another place, another time that hasn’t suffered borne the weight of the Changeling Purges. I’m further from home than I’ve ever been. ’

Fascinating! Something seems to be actively editing her thoughts as they occur.

“It might be worse than that,” Bonbon said quietly. “I think Nurse Redheart’s been gone for a whole day. Something a lot like this happened to my partner, a few months ago. She was one of the bridesmaids at the Royal Wedding.”

Ahh, i love these plot points. Someone who almost comes to the right conclusion, but is off regarding a few key details. Makes things interesting.

Nevertheless, the properties of one specific relic had been entrusted to Zecora, not so long ago, by one daring, enterprising adventurer whom many believed simply a storybook hero.

This is an interesting interpretation. Not just a shaman versed in the art of potioneering, but one who squirrels away magical artefacts that come into her possession, foreseeing a need for them in the future.

“Archtraitor,” Redheart hissed, raising her voice but not quite yelling. “Apostate, turncoat, liar! ”

This level of vitriol is forced, almost unnatural. It's as if she's been altered by an outside force to display this aggression when provoked.

However, Redheart’s face suddenly faded into a mute expression. “But I cannot stop now. Not at this moment. Not when Equestria depends on me.” Her eyes were hard, devoid of any warmth. “For you to almost tempt me into forsaking my oath… this is why you must die . ”

There are cracks in her programming. Apply a proverbial wedge, hammer it in, and the programming will be broken. Or, at least, the threat she poses will be much diminished.

‘ Do no harm. ’

The moment I saw this, I knew what it probably meant. The programming goes so far that she is physically unable to cause direct harm to figures of importance in the Empire. This programming clearly doesn't take into account the possibility of duplicates, but who foresees getting transported to an alternate universe?

“You can. For the good of Equestria.” Redheart looked at him pleadingly. “Hide it under your armour. No spell will find it there.”

Gaahhh! This gets me good. I hate to see it, but it's delicious and delicate. Careful manipulation, taking advantage of a familiarity she'd seeded earlier. Sowing doubt. Withholding some information, eagerly sharing other pieces of it. I've got a feeling that Icewind is going to get in waaay over his horn.

“Besides, Alexander Reiner, if an eye for an eye would sate you,” Redheart said, raising a cuffed hoof to the burns on her cheek. “I may not have inflicted those burns on your chest, not personally. But I’d say we’re even now. Wouldn’t you?”

You know, I've just realised that this is a very dangerous position for her to be in. Not for herself, but for those around her. Consider: Only her, the human, and those who decide to enter the human's mind have any true knowledge of what's going on between the Imperials and Earth. In effect, it's her word against his. Knowing how the ponies have treated strange creatures in the past, it's conceivable that she'd be able to sway opinions of humanity to the negative before they've even gotten a chance to decide for themselves. Whenever someone brings up soemthing that the Imperials are doing to Earth, she can easily spin it into a positive, whereas Alex is either improperly equipped to debate, or too easily roused to anger to make a coherent argument.
She's already got her hooks into Icewind, who will probably be conned into helping her escape somehow. She can make up whatever lies she wants, and the human has no way of disproving them. He's leaving out information regarding Earth, and she's leaving out information about the Imperials. Example: the polluted oceans. While Alex is likely leaving it out because it doesn't seem relevant to the threat of genocide against his entire species, Redheart is willing to use it as "evidence" of how horrible humans are.

And Alex, internally, had to suppress a smile. He’d almost forgotten how much of a grouse Bonbon could be.

Oh Bonnie, I can practically feel the disappointment you're feeling. First your marefriend is all interested in some cryptid, next that cryptid is real and it's getting her into trouble. As if she doesn't get into enough trouble on her own, right?
Dorks, and the fools who love them.

“No, ma’am,” he said at last. “Nothing.”

As I suspected.

And the tension comes to a mid-arc climax! Thank you, Redheart, for being a compelling first day antagonist, likely to return for many arcs to come.
I feel the need to note my appreciation of how carefully the story threads are prepared. Seemingly unrelated pieces coming together to place certain characters in certain places, sometimes barely managing to intersect before their involvement proper. For some, it would be easier to follow a single character as they trek from plot point to plot point, but it's far more satisfying to see the complexities as they develop. The story has barely begun, but important details get followed up on in satisfying ways. Dash's book, Sparkler's gem tracking spell, Icewind's date, Bonbon being fed up with her marefriend's eccentricities, it all wraps together. Doesn't even feel contrived, or forced (probably because of the meticulous care paid to setting up these details)

[Sledge115]

11348974

This is how you properly lampshade something. If there seems to be a sort of trend in-universe, it's not improbable that someone will take note of that trend and comment on it
That does not give a character license to go "hey, wow, look at that oversight we made. How weird and quirky, huh?"
This is the way.

but fidd, isn't it weeeeeeeird how this weeeeeeeird thing happened so weeeeeirdly?

Ahh, i love these plot points. Someone who almost comes to the right conclusion, but is off regarding a few key details. Makes things interesting.

I do so adore the dramatic irony trope. It makes people either squee or gasp or scream in frustration. Also, a way to indicate they haven't read the script.

The moment I saw this, I knew what it probably meant. The programming goes so far that she is physically unable to cause direct harm to figures of importance in the Empire. This programming clearly doesn't take into account the possibility of duplicates, but who foresees getting transported to an alternate universe?

Gaahhh! This gets me good. I hate to see it, but it's delicious and delicate. Careful manipulation, taking advantage of a familiarity she'd seeded earlier. Sowing doubt. Withholding some information, eagerly sharing other pieces of it. I've got a feeling that Icewind is going to get in waaay over his horn.

The best part of Icewind has always been the fact that we're playing with typical heroic tropes and turning them on their head on a whim.

You know, I've just realised that this is a very dangerous position for her to be in. Not for herself, but for those around her. Consider: Only her, the human, and those who decide to enter the human's mind have any true knowledge of what's going on between the Imperials and Earth. In effect, it's her word against his. Knowing how the ponies have treated strange creatures in the past, it's conceivable that she'd be able to sway opinions of humanity to the negative before they've even gotten a chance to decide for themselves. Whenever someone brings up soemthing that the Imperials are doing to Earth, she can easily spin it into a positive, whereas Alex is either improperly equipped to debate, or too easily roused to anger to make a coherent argument.
She's already got her hooks into Icewind, who will probably be conned into helping her escape somehow. She can make up whatever lies she wants, and the human has no way of disproving them. He's leaving out information regarding Earth, and she's leaving out information about the Imperials. Example: the polluted oceans. While Alex is likely leaving it out because it doesn't seem relevant to the threat of genocide against his entire species, Redheart is willing to use it as "evidence" of how horrible humans are.

The Empire is frustratingly good at using humanity's transgressions to justify their genocide - which will sway those who believe only the harshest solutions is correct.

Doesn't that sound familiar...

But anyways, just because humanity is being genocided doesn't justify their transgressions, and vice versa.

And the tension comes to a mid-arc climax! Thank you, Redheart, for being a compelling first day antagonist, likely to return for many arcs to come.
I feel the need to note my appreciation of how carefully the story threads are prepared. Seemingly unrelated pieces coming together to place certain characters in certain places, sometimes barely managing to intersect before their involvement proper. For some, it would be easier to follow a single character as they trek from plot point to plot point, but it's far more satisfying to see the complexities as they develop. The story has barely begun, but important details get followed up on in satisfying ways. Dash's book, Sparkler's gem tracking spell, Icewind's date, Bonbon being fed up with her marefriend's eccentricities, it all wraps together. Doesn't even feel contrived, or forced (probably because of the meticulous care paid to setting up these details)

That's how we roll, as always. We like seeding things far ahead of time.

[TheSneek]

And Alex, internally, had to suppress a smile. He’d almost forgotten how much of a grouse Bonbon could be.

BonBon: “Hey, I’m Grump!”

Lyra: “I’m Not-So-Grump!”

Both: “And we’re the GAME GRUMPS!”