Darkened Shores

by Silver Flare

05: The Trap

There was a terrible moment of silence, followed by everyone talking at once.

“Princess, please tell me that was you.” Applejack said.

“Where’d the door go?” Pinkie Pie bounced over to examine the now seamless wall.

“I can assure you, I did not seal us in a box.” Celestia answered with a frown.

“Was this a trap?” Rarity sounded more offended than afraid. “This was a trap, wasn’t it? How impossibly rude.”

“Oh no!” Fluttershy squeaked.

“AJ.” Pinkie Pie motioned to her friend. “Maybe you can kick the door back open. Or at least move it.”

Applejack was no slouch. Years spent working on her farm kept her in excellent shape. She was easily the strongest of her companions. Without hesitation she turned and kicked with both hindfeet at the spot they had entered the room. The resulting thunderclap of noise made everyone jump, and Applejack looked around sheepishly. Pinkie Pie shook her head, not seeing any change in the wall.

“Well Ms. Pie,” Drawled Applejack. “Maybe you can break this wall with your forehead.” Pinkie Pie simply glared in response.

“Make room, my friends.” Celestia approached the wall. “Give me a moment to examine this portal. Maybe I can open it.” She touched her horn to the wall and closed her eyes, her horn still glowing softly.

Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle was thinking furiously. If the changelings had planned on us getting in, how did they spring this trap at just the right moment? She thought. Are we being monitored somehow? Was this a physical trap, or was it sprung magically? Why not seal us outside this room and away from the Elements? Oh, maybe because the real danger is being in this room. With that thought, Twilight felt all the hairs down her spine stand on end. She froze in place and began scanning the room for hidden dangers, but she didn’t know what she was looking for. What, something like a spiked ceiling or the walls closing in? That only happens in books, doesn’t it?

She didn’t notice Spike touching her flank until he said her name. “Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head, annoyed. She needed to think. “What is it, Spike?”

He still seemed dazed and distracted, lost in a worrisome thought. “Pine trees.” He said, staring. “I’d never really seen them before today.” Twilight’s annoyance fell away as she mentally began running down his train of thought. She held her breath. Spike continued in a monotone. “They have a sharp smell to them. I really like it.” Twilight followed his vacant gaze to Rainbow Dash, who was staring into the open chest. “But those pine needles, wouldn’t they be tough to get out of your mane?”

As Rainbow Dash reached into the chest and pulled out an ornate golden necklace inset with a deep red jewel cut in the shape of a lightning bolt, the physical representation of the Element of Loyalty, Twilight hurtled into her from the side as if she’d been launched from a catapult. She slammed Rainbow Dash into the wall and held her there. The necklace clattered to the floor.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash complained. “What gives?”

With a sinking heart, Twilight could see that Spike was right. There wasn’t a single pine needle anywhere in her mane. Rainbow Dash saw the look in Twilight’s face and knew instantly what she suspected. Dash glanced around the room, and a sly look slithered into her eyes. “Help me!” She shouted. “Twilight’s a changeling! She’s a fake!” With that she jabbed a hoof into Twilight’s throat. It was faster than Twilight could move out of the way. She was stunned by just how painful it was as she felt something crunch in her neck.

Twilight hadn’t been ready for that, but she’d been ready for something. As she took the hit, she fell backwards, still holding on to the fake Rainbow Dash and pulling the imposter on top of her. As they fell, Twilight’s attacker glanced towards the fallen Element and made a grab for it. Twilight didn’t know what would happen if a changeling got a hold of one of the Elements of Harmony, but she didn’t want to find out. So as she rolled to her back, she kicked up with both of her hindfeet and launched Rainbow Dash into the low ceiling. There was a heavy thud of impact, and as the stunned Dash fell back toward her, she caught her with her magic and kept her in the air.

It had only taken a pair of seconds for the entire altercation to take place, and everyone else in the room still stood stunned. From her position on the floor, Twilight’s horn blazed a bright purple, and with an effort of will she peeled her friend’s face away, revealing a black, chitinous creature beneath. She heard a collective gasp, and she heard Fluttershy murmuring, “Oh no. Oh no no no no no. . .” Then Twilight noticed how hard it was to breathe. She tried to inhale deeply, and she immediately began hacking and coughing. Her concentration wavered, and her spell failed, dropping the changeling right on top of her.

Or it would have, if Rarity hadn’t barreled into its side and knocked it to the floor. It kicked at her with its hooves and Celestia slid Rarity to the side with her magic, trying to get her out of harm’s way. It turned to bite at Applejack who had thrown herself forward to help, but she leapt backward out of reach. Princess Celestia enveloped the creature with her magic, but it struggled so fiercely that it managed to accidentally kick Spike in the stomach, even though he had pressed himself against the wall to get as far from the fight as possible. Spike belched a small gout of green flame, and a chunk of the changeling’s leg disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The changeling stopped struggling and its eyes went very wide. Then it let out a sharp, pain-filled cry that filled the room and caused everyone to cover their ears. At the same time, a puff of smoke coalesced above the Princess’s nose, and she stepped backwards as the small chunk of changeling leg appeared and fell to the floor, sluggishly oozing a purple liquid. When its voice died down, Pinkie Pie said simply, “Yuck.”

“Oh, you can say that again, sugarcube.” Applejack breathed, clearly horrified.

“I’m so sorry!” Spike said to the room in general. He seemed equally horrified. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

The changeling no longer struggled as Celestia stared at it, and as the Princess approached it tried to cower away. Celestia’s features changed from a righteous anger to a distant look of worry, before steeling itself into an impassive mask. Reaching a decision, she focused her will, formed a bubble around the changeling and pushed it into the wall furthest from the door, trapping the creature under a dome of yellow light as far from everyone else as she could manage. The changeling hung suspended in the air, as though inside a sideways snow globe.

Then Celestia turned to Twilight Sparkle, still coughing on the floor. Twilight could only see her approach through a veil of watery tears. Celestia studied her for a moment, and then bowed her head and touched her horn to Twilight’s collarbone. A minute passed before Twilight felt a painful swelling in her throat, and there was a panicky moment where she couldn’t breathe at all, followed by a flood of relief. Twilight gulped air into her lungs, heaving great shuddering breaths as her friends crowded around her.

“Thank goodness you’re alright, Twi’” Applejack said.

“I’m so sorry, dear. It all happened so fast.” Rarity added.

Twilight stood on shaky legs, coughed a little more, cleared her throat and managed to say, “I’m fine, I think.” Her voice came out hoarse and scratchy. With a concerned expression, Twilight tried massaging her throat, but cringed away in pain.

“I’d give that some time to heal, young one.” Celestia sounded even more tired than before. Twilight nodded in understanding.

Pinkie Pie studied Twilight’s neck and asked, “What, can’t you just ‘poof’ and glow a bit and she’ll be better?”

Twilight carefully shook her head no as Celestia answered. “Magic as we know it has its limits. Turning the world is a simple matter compared to aligning blood vessels and repairing damage to cartilage or tissues. All I did was push Twilight’s injury back into the right shape. The healing will be up to her. True healing through magic is impossible.” Twilight nodded. That was what she’d learned as well.

Spike picked up the fallen necklace and glanced toward the trapped changeling. He turned to the Princess and offered the Element to her. She lifted it into the air and considered it carefully. “That was well done, Twilight Sparkle. I don’t believe a changeling could have drawn much power from this, but perhaps it could have damaged it. Had it used the Element of Loyalty to attempt to betray us, it might have destroyed this talisman entirely.” Celestia shook her head in frustration, and set the Element back into Spike’s claws. “I have been far too careless. Please forgive me, but we must be sure. This may feel quite uncomfortable, but I ask you to hold still.”

With that Princess Celestia turned and verified each of their identities one by one. Pinkie Pie remarked, “Gah, it feels like there’s bugs everywhere! Oh wait, I’m fine.”

“I don’t feel anything.” Spike shrugged.

“Sayin’ it’s ‘uncomfortable’ is bein’ mighty generous.” Applejack added, nodding sagely.

Celestia levitated the chest of Elements into the center of the companions and set it on the floor. “Please, put these on. Things have become dangerous far faster than I had anticipated.” Applejack and Rarity reached in and pulled out the necklaces, distributing them between the ponies. Rarity helped Fluttershy put hers on while Applejack helped Pinkie Pie. Celestia continued, “The safest place for the Elements for now will be on all of you.”

“But, Princess,” Fluttershy asked timidly, touching the edge of the butterfly-shaped jewel at the hollow of her throat. “What if we lose them, or drop them, or they get snagged on something?” Twilight looked back and forth between Fluttershy and Celestia, clearly wondering what the answer was.

Celestia looked like she might answer quickly, but then she thought better of it. With a frustrated glance at the trapped changeling, she said instead, “A long explanation will have to wait. Please be content when I say that these trinkets will not be parted from you easily. Even yours, my faithful student.” With that, Celestia lifted the crown out of the chest and set it gently atop Twilight’s head. It fit perfectly behind her horn. Twilight seemed to stand a bit taller, as though a weight had been lifted off of her. Celestia smiled at the sight of her protégé wearing her power as though it was her birthright. It seemed to confirm everything that the Princess had hoped Twilight would become. But Twilight was looking at Celestia as though the Princess would be the one to figure everything out. The way all her subjects always looked at her. Celestia’s heart sank a little; maybe Twilight wasn’t quite ready after all.

Celestia took a deep breath and forced herself to look away from Twilight to Spike. “We need to get this Element to its rightful owner. Spike, would you mind. . .”

“Oh no.” Spike replied immediately. “I’ve worn this once before, and it did not end well. Ask another pony.”

“Spike, I only ask you place it in your pack and keep it safe. Nothing more.” Celestia raised one eyebrow at the outburst.

“Oh.” Spike seemed mollified. “Okay, that makes sense.” He unslung his pack and began trying to fit the thick choker-style necklace in. It was only difficult because Twilight had packed his knapsack so completely. He grumbled to himself as he worked.

Rarity looked distressed. “Your Highness, we need to find her. I mean, she must still be alive, right?”

Celestia’s gaze darkened considerably. Her eyes narrowed. Her brow furrowed. Her shoulders slowly hunched, and she lowered her head menacingly. Her teeth bared in a very un-princess manner. When she spoke, the very air throbbed with power. “For their sake, Rainbow Dash best be unharmed.” It took several long moments for the Princess to relax her stance and shift her focus. “Twilight Sparkle, how would you propose we get out of this room?”

Twilight seemed taken aback. She had been so convinced that the Princess would get them out that she hadn’t actually done much thinking of her own. Twilight’s brow creased in thought. And when she spoke, her voice was hoarse enough that it was difficult to understand her. “Heat.” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Heat would be bad. Too small a space.” Celestia nodded in agreement. “Force would be tricky. We don’t know how much to use. Flying bits of rock would be bad too.” Celestia nodded again. “Can’t. . . can’t we just lift it back up?”

“I have already tried.” Celestia looked vexed. “Something has fallen into place above it, or it has locked somehow. I may as well use force to blow it outward rather than pry it straight up.”

“Well then,” Twilight continued. “I say we ask our gracious host.” She gestured towards the trapped changeling. Celestia nodded in approval.

Everyone looked at the yellow dome against the far wall. Except the changeling was gone. Instead, Pinkie Pie was trapped inside, banging against the side of the shield and begging to be let out. She looked sad to the point of depression. It made Twilight’s heart skip a beat, even though she knew that the real Pinkie Pie stood next to her. Twilight wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she reined herself in. Besides, She thought, I won’t have much of a scream for awhile. I might as well save my breath. She stalked up to the edge of the bubble, grim determination and anger in her eyes. When Twilight glanced back and nodded, Celestia dismissed the spell and the fake Pinkie Pie tumbled gracelessly to the floor. When she looked up into Twilight’s eyes, she just looked like a dirty, hurt and lost Pinkie Pie. It was heartbreaking.

Twilight was having none of it. “Take off my friend’s face.” She rasped.

This is a good place to mention that Twilight with no voice is about as far from intimidating as possible. Point of fact, it’s kind of adorable. “What are you talking about, Twilight? Don’t you remember me?” The changeling answered in a perfect Pinkie Pie imitation.

In response, Twilight lifted the imposter into the air and drifted her over to rest in front of Spike. Spike glanced around nervously, but then he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. The imposter’s eyes went very wide, and in a flash of pale and vitriolic green the Pinkie Pie was replaced by the changeling’s true form. Spike exhaled, and managed to hide his relief.

Twilight walked over. In that same non-voice, Twilight said, “Okay.” She cleared her throat again. “How do we get out?”

The changeling’s true voice was an edged, guttural thing accompanied by a faint buzz, as though it had done a poor job of swallowing a dragonfly. “There is no way out. The hive will open this chamber when they will meet no resistance. Perhaps in a week or so, if you are lucky.”

Twilight’s certainty was absolute. “We will not be here that long.” She rasped. “How did you trigger the door?”

The changeling hesitated, and then motioned to the wall behind where the chest was. “The release is there, set into the wall. But it only closes. It does not open.”

Pinkie Pie bounced over to the wall and found a loose clump of rock that depressed when she touched it. She fiddled with it for a bit, but there wasn’t even a clicky noise. “Well, this wasn’t interesting.” She complained. Twilight turned back to consider their prisoner.

Twilight stood stone still for a minute. She didn’t move a single muscle, but her mind raced along furiously. Seething just beneath the surface was a series of terrible things Twilight was envisioning doing to the changeling. She wanted to punt it in the face, or blast it into the wall, or slam it against the ceiling again. She imagined making Spike breathe more of his fire, maybe removing a hoof or something. She almost talked herself into it too, rationalizing that she might be able to get more information, or discover if it was lying. She told herself that the creature deserved it. Her eye began to twitch. She didn’t notice her friends all backing a step or two away. She did notice that the longer she didn’t move, the more nervous the changeling became. It glanced around. It licked its lips. Twilight felt like the room was spinning a bit; as though she stood atop a precipice looking into a deep abyss, and her head reeled with the vertigo. That is, until a steadying touch on her shoulder made her turn her head.

Princess Celestia stood beside her, staring into her eyes. All at once, Twilight felt ashamed. Celestia had been more than a kind ruler and a mentor to Twilight. The Princess had been a role model, a masterful sculpture of kindness, gentleness and understanding that almost belied comprehension. She had shown Twilight how to care, how to open her heart and let others in. How to see life from another’s perspective. And how not to hate. What would she say if she could see the anger, frustration and hate in Twilight’s heart right now? Twilight hung her head in dejection. She’d come so close to violence. Not violence in self-defense or to protect a friend, but for far darker reasons. The room continued to spin. Hopefully, Celestia wasn’t a mind reader among everything else she was. Twilight felt that she couldn’t bear her teacher’s disappointment.

Rarity spoke before Celestia could. “Is anypony else feeling light-headed?”

Twilight’s head snapped up in alarm. Celestia gasped in comprehension. The room wasn’t very big, and there were eight of them trapped inside. And thanks to Twilight, many of them had been breathing pretty hard. The room must have been airtight. The changeling stifled a mad little giggle. Celestia moved to the wall and closed her eyes. “We are out of time. Twilight, I will try to teleport out of this room and find a mechanism on the other side of the door.”

“No!” Twilight barely made a squeak, but she leapt forward and grabbed Celestia by the tail, breaking her concentration. “You can’t!” She desperately tried to speak clearly. “If you miss. . . If your aim is off. . .”

Celestia nodded in understanding. “I know the risks, Twilight Sparkle, but I say again we are out of time. The longer we delay the more dangerous this becomes.” Twilight shook her head in frustration.

“What’ll happen if she misses teleporting. . . oh.” Applejack’s eyes grew even more alarmed.

Twilight nodded. “She might end up embedded in the rock somewhere. Even a partial miss would probably kill her.”

“Not before I could reach the door, Twilight. And remember, I have been doing this for far longer than you have been alive.” Celestia sounded stern and impatient.

“No.” Twilight shook her head in denial. “Let me do it. I’m much smaller than you. And I’m less important. Equestria needs you. Let me try.”

Celestia had thousands of years experience hiding her emotions, but Twilight very nearly brought her to tears. Young one, Celestia thought, you couldn’t be more wrong. Rather than say anything, rather than argue, Celestia deferred the spot by the wall to Twilight. It caused her physical pain to place her student and her hope for the future in danger, but Twilight was right. In the tunnel beyond the wall, Twilight had a far greater chance of teleporting without mishap. She was a tiny filly, after all. Celestia said only, “Be careful, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight nodded, and her dizziness spiked. She stumbled before turning to the wall and closing her eyes. She was breathing heavily, and she thought she could see spots dancing behind her eyelids. If her friends were in a similar state, she didn’t have much time. Twilight focused, extending her senses outside of herself, hoping to feel the empty space on the other side. To her surprise, she could sense everything in great detail. The patches of disgusting green stuff stood out in stark contrast with the rough texture of the stone walls. The air on the other side actually felt fresher. Twilight lifted both eyebrows in surprise. This might be easier than she thought. Maybe anoxia is helping me to focus. Twilight came back to herself, shrugged mentally, and then focused her will. With a small pop, she disappeared.

When Twilight reappeared, she stood in the exact center of the space on the other side of the door. She didn’t even fall a centimeter to the floor. She appeared literally exactly where she’d meant to. She gulped a breath of fresh air, and then another as her head began to clear. She hadn’t been producing light with her horn inside the chamber, so she appeared in a deep, oily blackness that made her feel physically blind. However, she lifted each hoof in turn and felt elation bubble up inside her. She’d done it, and done it perfectly. Hah! She turned to the door and drew up a little light. From this side, there clearly was a doorframe, and the door itself was a slab of stone. There weren’t any obvious knobs or levers, but she probably just hadn’t looked hard enough.

There was a soft scrabbling noise from behind her, and Twilight froze. She turned her head slowly, and her light reflected back from dozens and dozens of pale blue, pupil-less eyes stretching back up the tunnel. Oh no. Maybe she could have fooled them into thinking she was a changeling herself, but she was wearing the Element of Magic, and had just appeared out of thin air. Then all the changelings seemed to hiss a challenge at once, and Twilight’s ears drooped in dismay. They swarmed toward her in a rush, a living wall of fangs and chitin.

In hindsight, Twilight wished she’d had different spells prepared in advance. She did know how to cast reflective shields, like the one Celestia set up at the entrance. The only problem was how complicated and involved they were, and Twilight didn’t have time to think. She hastily threw up a simple shield across the tunnel entrance, and as bodies piled against it she turned to examine the door again. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t see anything that would free her friends. Couldn’t they have just installed a giant lever or something? Twilight thought angrily. A couple of heartbeats later a cluster of changelings, some on the walls and ceiling, rammed their glowing green horns through Twilight’s shield, shattering it. The compressed purple energy fractured and dissolved into nothingness. Twilight didn’t glance backwards, she simply drew up another shield around herself; a small sphere to keep them off her as she began looking over the doorframe carefully, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Then she was surrounded.

The chittering creatures knew they could break this shield too. Twilight had seriously overextended herself magically, and her last shield had been a thin, brittle thing. Her shield now was little better. However, none of the changelings tried to break her out of it. As they swarmed around her, a few set their hooves against her shield and began rolling her away from the door and up the slope. Twilight had only had a few breaths to study the doorway, but she knew a great deal about secret passages. She’d read three whole books dedicated to architecture and masonry, and all of them had chapters on hidden doorways. Had there been a hidden catch, she should have been able to spot it somewhere around the doorway, but Twilight added another thought. Moving solid stone was no easy feat, especially if one didn’t use magic, which the changeling inside the room hadn’t. Likely, the stone fell into place via gravity, which meant there was no easy way to open the door itself. Of course there was no lever or button. The room was never meant to be opened again easily. The changelings would chisel and gouge their way in when they felt like it, to recover the Elements. If they aren’t content with just impersonating me and my friends in our lives in Equestria.

If only she were as powerful as Celestia. If only she’d let Celestia go first, the Princess could have beaten them all and freed her friends. But the door faded into darkness as the creatures piled around her and rolled her up the tunnel, almost as fast as she’d slid down it. As the shield rolled, Twilight remained upright, suspended by a conscious expenditure of energy as she held her hooves out in four directions. She was pretty clear on the fact that she didn’t want to get any closer to these creatures than she had to. Also, the thought of being spun in loops didn’t really appeal to her. And yet, even holding the spinning globe of energy together was almost too much for Twilight to manage. She gritted her teeth and forced more of her will into the shield, but it was still failing. She was nearing the end of what she could do.

When they burst into the chamber above, the one shaped like a pancake the size of Ponyville proper, Twilight sensed a change in the creatures around her. She couldn’t quite place her hoof on it, but the cadence of their breathing changed, became more excited. Or their movements became more frenetic, urgent. As they neared the center of the room, Twilight looked beyond her captors and noticed hundreds of changelings stretching into the darkness all around her. They crawled across the floor and the ceiling indiscriminately, a writhing mass that nearly unmade Twilight’s concentration right there. She knew she didn’t stand a chance. If a pair of these changelings even sneezed on her shield, it would fracture. Possibly worse, if her magic failed, the light of her horn would go out. The thought of being with these creatures in complete blackness paralyzed her with terror. She couldn’t possibly survive that. Surely the fear alone would stop her heart cold. As that thought hit her, Twilight realized that she’d stopped moving, and the changelings surrounding her retreated to a respectful distance.

That’s when another figure paced into view. It was taller than the other changelings; its horn just barely missed the ceiling when it stood upright. Its mane was short, and faded from a dusky grey to a fiery red. It moved with certainty and authority on thick, powerful legs pocked with holes the way all changelings seemed to be made. Its eyes actually had pupils, however, and its red-orange eyes assessed Twilight and her shield critically before dismissing her as non-threatening.

“Where are the others?” His voice was a mild, buzzing baritone, lacking weight but carrying through the chamber nonetheless.

One of Twilight’s captors answered, “Still below, your grace.” It gazed adoringly at the changeling in charge, as though it relished what might come next.

“Good. Take your contingent back into the tunnel and continue your watch. Two others yet possess magic. Go.” Before he’d finished giving orders he turned back to Twilight, eyeing her speculatively, as a swath of changelings turned and crawled back the way they’d come.

Twilight reached inside herself and found a mote of defiance. She wasn’t beaten yet. Though her voice shook, she tried to speak boldly. “What have you done with Rainbow Dash?”

Twilight had honestly hoped the changeling would answer her. But he only smiled and walked up to her shield. He took one hoof, smashed it through her shield and she dropped to the floor in a heap. “I didn’t quite catch that.” He said, in an almost bored tone of voice. “Behind that little soap bubble of yours, I couldn’t hear what you said.”

When Twilight’s shield dropped, the light from her horn brightened a couple of notches. She picked herself up on shaky hooves and looked up into his eyes. “I said,” She rasped, “What have you done with my friend?”

“Huh.” He still sounded bored, but he added a small, condescending smile on top of it. “It wasn’t the shield at all. You just sound terrible.” And with that he dismissed her.

Twilight watched as his eyes focused elsewhere, as though there were other things he had to attend to. He turned, and in a flash of intuition, Twilight knew that things were about to get much, much worse for her. She had to keep him talking. Her brain scrambled for something, anything she could throw at this creature to keep him from dismissing her as unimportant, as something to throw to his underlings. She shouted at him, “Is that what your plan was all along? Taking Celestia’s place in Canterlot?” Maybe shouted was a strong word. But it was louder than she’d managed before. And the changeling leader paused to reconsider her. She continued. “That’s a stupid plan, and nopony would fall for it for long. Sure, Chrysalis had more power than brains, but I didn’t realize all changelings were that thick.”

The leader turned to face Twilight squarely, a wolfish grin spreading on his face. “My, your precious leader has certainly kept you ignorant. You really have no conception what transpired at your brother’s wedding, do you?” He shook his head in amusement. “It’s a shame that my mission isn’t to educate young foals about harsh realities. I would love to watch your face crumple as you learned the truth. As it is, we are done here.” He turned to the changelings crowding around them in the fading light of Twilight’s horn. “It would be best if this one was taken someplace. . . remote.”

The crowd of creatures surged forward, and Twilight closed her eyes. This was it, then. As the light from her horn failed, and changelings surrounded her in the dark and lifted her up, she reached beyond herself for more power, more magic. It was a reflex, the same way a falling pony will paw at the empty air hoping for something to grab onto even if there’s nothing around. It’s a survival instinct, plain and simple, and exactly as fruitless.

Or at least, it should have been. Yet, when she consciously pushed her senses outward, she felt motes of power all around her. Small sparks of magic, of life, blazed like tiny stars all about her. Many were near her; many more were further above, somewhere through the dense rock and dirt piled above her head. Each one that Twilight could sense seethed with energy, and she opened herself up to that power, mentally drawing it through the crown atop her head and into herself.

Pain like Twilight had rarely known burned through her, as though the inside of her head was being scrubbed with red-hot steel wool. A gratefully detached corner of her mind wondered how long she’d be willing to endure it, and honestly debated letting the changelings take her away instead. At the same time, however, the nearest of the creatures fell away as Twilight lifted up into the air and burst into incandescent light. Her eyes shone, bright flat disks of light, and a penumbra of magic enveloped her. This was more magic than Twilight had ever consciously tried to control before, and what energy she couldn’t keep a grasp on bled away in bright purple rivulets.

The changeling leader turned, shocked, and braced himself in a combat stance. He suddenly seemed ready to take her seriously. “So,” He breathed in wonder, “You comprehend the Elements better than we thought. Although, perhaps you hadn’t considered. . .”

Twilight wondered for half of a heartbeat why he bothered talking. Did he really think she wanted a conversation? The power she’d drawn demanded utterance, or she felt she might fly apart at any moment. While the changeling spoke, Twilight focused her will and sent a shaft of energy coruscating into the darkness, aimed right for his chest. His eyes widened, and he rolled to the side as the changeling behind him was hit with the magical equivalent of three or four battering rams. Large ones. The changeling was lifted from its feet and flung into the two behind it, and so on, clearing a path straight through the suddenly nervous-looking horde of creatures until they all plowed into the far wall. The pair of changelings to either side of the one struck glanced uncertainly at one another and then bolted into the darkness.

The leader rolled gracefully to his feet. “Honestly,” He didn’t sound afraid; he only sounded a little ruffled. “Where do you think your power is coming. . .?”

Twilight was baffled. He’s still talking? That’s fine by me. Keep going, chatterbox. Twilight fired at him again, and again he dodged her strike with the timing and confidence of one who has done this all before. This time, the changeling leader popped out of his roll angry. “You ignorant, mewling newborn! You dare to draw. . .”

Wow, it’s like he hasn’t learned anything. Twilight fired again, this time spreading her blast wide in a cone. Dodge this, creep. Twilight felt a deep satisfaction as she saw him brace himself, lowering his head to place his horn between himself and the oncoming force. Twilight saw the energy she had released splash against a dome of putrid light-green force. He had slid backwards a smidgimeter, but was otherwise unharmed. He rose from his crouch and acknowledged her with a nod. “I must admit, you are stronger than you look.”

In between the words ‘you’ and ‘look’ Twilight took a terrible risk. She teleported right behind him and blasted him again, unleashing even more power than she had the last time. Her aim was true, both with the teleport and her force spell, and the changeling was hurled screaming into the distance. Still floating off of the ground with the excess of her power, Twilight flung herself back towards the tunnel she had come up.

The pain was still tearing at her mind, but the pain was tempered by a sort of enhanced perception. Ever since she’d donned her Element, she’d felt as though her eyesight was sharper, her hearing more acute. She felt like she could count every changeling in the room with her, even the ones she couldn’t see. She could feel them, the same way she could feel which tunnel was the correct one based on the texture of the stone around it. And she sensed much more besides. She felt buoyed by vivid and tangible streams of power, rivers and eddies of force which she could see overlaid atop the real. Not just see, but smell and touch and hear and sense.

Twilight barely thought about hovering off of the ground, she was simply held up by the power coursing around her. She barely had to consider moving, and she drifted where she intended. The sensory input was terribly distracting, but it was also sharp and definite. So Twilight Sparkle had no problem conjuring up a solid shield on her right just before she reached the tunnel entrance, a full quarter second before a wrecking ball of magic crashed into her.

Her shield blazed purple in a quarter dome as it scattered most of the emerald green ball of force, but the impact still shoved Twilight off of her aim for the tunnel and towards the wall instead. With a thought, Twilight spun in the air to brace all four of her hooves against the wall to stop herself, and her mane obscured her snarling face for only a moment as she oriented herself towards her attacker. Another green bolt hurled towards her, and she readied her shield. This attack felt different somehow, but even though Twilight could feel something was off, she couldn’t tell what it was before the attack reached her. As green magic splashed against Twilight’s shield, it clung and spread, dissolving and dispersing her defensive energies like an acid, tearing her power away from her. With a gasp, Twilight realized her danger as the changeling leader appeared before her, emerging from his teleport at full speed and slamming her into the wall with his shoulder.

Twilight instinctively braced herself with her magic, leaning into the impact and feeling her own strength augmented by the force of her will. However, magic still has dealings with physics, and the math of the physics all went against Twilight. That detached corner of Twilight’s mind was trying to multiply estimated mass with estimated velocity, and she never really followed through on the calculation itself before the changeling leader, brow furrowed in fierce concentration, filled her vision and a mighty impact shook her world. He slammed her into the unyielding wall, sending an impact tremor through the cavern and shaking dirt and small stones down from the ceiling. The impact and the added pain shattered Twilight’s concentration, and the power she’d collected bled away through the cracks in her will. The light surrounding her faded, the glow in her eyes replaced by Twilight’s normal violet irises, and she shuddered as she collapsed gasping onto her side.

The changeling leader stood over her, his chest heaving with exertion, his enraged eyes only visible in the faint green glow still wreathing his horn. “Ridiculous.” He spat. “I told her that keeping you alive was more trouble than it was worth.” He drew upon more power, the glow of his horn growing and revealing more of the chamber as his mane and tail began to move as if being brushed by an unfelt wind. Twilight thought again about her dear friends, and she wondered how long she’d been gone. Too long, she was sure. They might already be dead.

Twilight tried to reach for power again, tried to recapture the feeling of being connected to the invisible currents of magic around her. The pain was immediate and excruciating, and she recoiled in panic. She couldn’t do it now, not even to save her own life, let alone the lives of everyone she held most dear. With a whimper she gave up trying as her eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t sure what was worse, being trapped and beaten in some horrible hive far below ground, or the feeling that she might have somehow ruined her own ability to use magic. Her magic defined her. The study of magic had framed her entire life. She wondered what she would become if she could never draw upon it again.

The changeling’s eyes widened in shock and flicked towards the tunnel entrance just as a torrent of changelings scattered from the tunnel, some of them running on the floor or the ceiling, and others being flung through the air like rag dolls. Cinder was forced to shield himself from his own underlings, and he swatted them out of the air without blinking an eye. Those remaining changelings who hadn’t turned and bolted found themselves facing a furious Princess Celestia. A curt gesture from her horn, and the intervening creatures simply vanished, teleported elsewhere. Cinder glanced at the fallen Twilight, giving away his intent a second too early. As he moved to grab Twilight as a hostage Celestia teleported into the space between them, leveling her horn at his throat.

Princess Celestia spoke, and there was steel in her voice. “Cinder. Do not touch my student again.” She stood in between Twilight and the changeling leader, wreathed in warm yellow power. Her dazed mind noted that Celestia’s flank was marked by her own cutie mark. Six stylized stars. That couldn’t be right. It took a moment for Twilight to realize the Princess was just carrying her packs.

From around Celestia’s flank, Twilight watched as Cinder snorted in frustration and glared hatred as he locked eyes with Twilight, but after a few moments his brow smoothed, and he smiled at the Princess. When he spoke, he sounded confident once again. “Fine, your Highness. Have it your way.” He gave Celestia a mock bow without taking his eyes off her. “However, your student appears undereducated. Really, it seems as though you should be wearing this.” With that, he inclined his head, and Twilight noticed something she hadn’t before. One of Cinder’s ears had been pierced, and a small jewel hung from an earring made of some dusky metal. It was difficult to focus on, as if it slipped subtly from direct sight, but the jewel seemed to be a clear diamond fraught with flaws and laced with fractures.

Celestia made no move, save to twitch her tail in vexation. “So, you finally found the Element of Deception. It does seem to suit you, Cinder. But you must know that if you push me, I will take it from you.”

“Perhaps.” Cinder’s voice became disembodied, seeming to originate from the air around them rather than from his mouth. “Then again, perhaps not.” Darkness seemed to wrap itself around his form, obscuring him and melting him into the shadows of the cavern.

Comments

[whoofian]

So the elements of chaos exist... interesting.

[Truthseeker]

Too bad she didn't just kill all the Changelings in the room.