SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Where and Back Again

Where and Back Again

“Ah,” Princess Celestia said. “I see you have… returned.”

“A little early, Your Highness, but yes,” Cinder acknowledged as she walked into the palace. “Starlight Glimmer decided to cut her visit short and return to Ponyville.”

That was a rather polite way of saying that she’d had a panic attack at the thought of any responsibility being placed upon her guilty shoulders, but Cinder could see no reason why she should not be polite to Starlight Glimmer. She might not have felt the same way, but she could understand it: leadership had been a poison to her, or so she thought, and hence, she shunned it, content to leave the burden for others to take up.

In that, at least, they were quite similar.

Cinder hoped that Starlight could get over it, or at least get through it; she was a pleasant mare and had been reasonable company on the journey north, but she was not about to force her into anything, nor would she shame her in front of Princess Celestia with a more complete account of what had occurred.

“I see,” Princess Celestia said, her voice disinterested. “I’m sure you have things to do, and so do I. All those ponies won’t tell themselves what to do, after all.”

That was an attitude to rulership with which Cinder was quite familiar, but it was odd to hear it from the mouth of none other than Princess Celestia. Yes, she was – even leaving aside her immense magical power – an absolute monarch, an autocrat with untrammelled powers such as the Emperors of Mistral, constrained by the indulgence of their noble houses, could only have dreamed of possessing, and yet, at the same time, she seemed to strive to bear herself with at least a modicum of humility. Cinder might not call her truly humble – she had too much of a regal air about her for that – but she lacked pretension, or even the airs which she might have been justified in putting on. She would not, as Sunset had done, confuse humility with allowing others to kick you like a cur across the threshold, but nor would she kick others, or even carry herself as though she had the right to do so.

She was, not to put too fine a point upon it, one of the last people whom Cinder would have thought to hear say words such as those which had just passed her lips. About the only person from whom such sentiments would have surprised Cinder more was Pyrrha.

So Cinder thought, at least, and yet, as she thought it, the more it occurred to her that she had little enough in the way of grounds to think so. She had only known Princess Celestia for a brief while; she hadn't even spoken to her in Sunset's magic book, and she had been stern with Cinder after dinner. It was always possible that she could have a harsher side which Cinder had simply not yet witnessed, and yet…

And yet, could someone – somepony, as they put it in this land – for whom kindness and humility were simply a mask that they donned to gull the world have earned Sunset's undying love and respect in the way that Princess Celestia had? Would Sunset have spoken of her so fondly, with such admiration, and only in terms of her grace, her kindness, her compassion, and all the other sweet virtues that shone from her as the sun which she commanded shone above? Sunset had never mentioned anything like this; Sunset had made it seem as though she had no flaws at all. Could she have been so blind? And if Princess Celestia was so good at hiding, why let slip now?

You're reading too much into this, by far. They were words, nothing more. Words poorly chosen, but words nonetheless. She's having a bad day, as we all do from time to time.

"Princess," Cinder called out to Princess Celestia's retreating back. "Did Sunset have any luck today?"

Princess Celestia was silent for a moment. "You'd have to ask her that," she declared. "Now, I have important business to attend to."

She retreated through the nearest door and closed it firmly behind her.

That was odd, stranger than anything that Princess Celestia had said. Cinder could accept that anyone, even a princess, could have a bad day and be a little out of sorts, but for Sunset to not share anything of what she had learned with Princess Celestia? To seek out knowledge and understanding of herself – that was essentially what it was, for all that Cinder might make fun of childish terminology employed – and then keep it all secret from her mother? Cinder could imagine a princess having a bad day, but she found it harder to imagine Sunset not telling her about her something like this, which seemed – from what Cinder could pick up – to be something culturally ubiquitous amongst ponies but which Sunset had been denied or at least failed to achieve. To not tell her what she, Sunset, was the princess of? That was a lot harder for Cinder to imagine.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Still, perhaps Princess Celestia had been in such a bad mood that Sunset hadn't wanted to bother her. Perhaps Sunset had found out nothing and had retired to her room to lick her wounds rather than confess her failure?

Whichever it was, there was only one way to find out for certain. Cinder made her way to Sunset's room, passing through a palace that – unlike its most royal resident – seemed unchanged from when she had left it earlier, with the guards standing ostentatiously at their posts and the servants going about their business just as they had, with none of them seeming to have altered one bit. Only Princess Celestia was different, and if Princess Celestia was out of sorts, well… she had the right, as much as anyone did.

Cinder reached Sunset's room and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Sunset called out from within.

"It's me," Cinder said.

There was a pause, stretching out for a few moments, before the door opened to reveal Sunset standing on the other side. She looked up at Cinder in surprise, but that surprise swiftly faded as the smile spread across her face. “Hey. You’re back early. I wasn’t expecting you for a week.”

"Starlight decided to cut our trip short," Cinder explained, without explaining anything.

"Oh. Was everything okay?," Sunset said.

"Not for her, unfortunately," Cinder replied. "Although exactly how bad it is or was depends on whether you think that her old village is worth the effort, I suppose."

It had struck her as a very ordinary place; which was fine, for some people, but at the same time… Starlight already lived in one place which could at least perform ordinariness perfectly well even if it was not entirely ordinary – it was, after all, home to Equestria’s champions – so why did Starlight need to travel so far out of her way for a second-rate version of what was already on her doorstep? She had not said so, but it seemed to Cinder that Starlight had everything she needed in Ponyville already, without bothering to travel to distant locales for second-rate substitutes. Starlight seemed to think that she had failed in some way, but Cinder was more inclined to say that she had made her choice, and not necessarily the wrong one.

Although, perhaps she had made it for the wrong reasons.

"Probably not," Sunset agreed.

The two fell into a silence. And not a companionable silence, either; in fact, it was a rather uncomfortable silence that stretched out between the two of them, each seeming to wait for the other to say something without saying anything themselves.

"Well," Sunset said. "I have things to be getting on with, so if you'll excuse me-" She started to shut the door, only for said door to run flat into Cinder's outstretched arm.

"'Things to do'?" Cinder repeated. "What kind of things?"

"Oh, you know," Sunset replied. "Important princess things."

Cinder's eyes narrowed. "What's going on around here?"

"You not taking a hint?" Sunset suggested.

"First, Princess Celestia sounded off when I came in, and now you," Cinder said. "Did something happen while I was away?"

"No!" Sunset said quickly. "Nothing happened, nothing at all! You know what, why don't you come inside?"

Cinder smirked. "What about all of your important princess things that you had to do?"

"They can wait," Sunset said.

"Of course they can wait; they're non-existent," Cinder said sharply. "If something's bothering you, don't make up excuses to get rid of me so that you can mope by yourself, and certainly don't make those excuses tissue-thin. Especially," she added, reaching down to pick Sunset up and lift her off the floor into Cinder's arms, raising her up until the two of them were level, "since you've already proved quite thoroughly that you make absolutely terrible decisions without me."

Sunset pouted and looked away. "Please put me down."

Cinder chuckled and leaned forward just a little bit to touch the tip of Sunset's snout with her own. Then she carried Sunset into the room, using her tail to shut the door behind her, and then, and only then, did she set Sunset down upon the floor once more.

"So," Cinder said, sitting down on Sunset's bed. "How did it go?"

Sunset sighed. "It was a bit of a bust, to tell you the truth."

"Really?" Cinder asked. "You mean you're no closer to finding out what your cutie mark means or what you're the princess of?"

Sunset hesitated for a moment. "Guess not."

"Oh," Cinder murmured. "I… I'm sorry to hear that." She glanced away from Sunset for a moment, resting both her hands upon the mattress. "And those three fillies, they weren't able to tell you anything? Not even give you a hint-?"

"I said no, okay!" Sunset snapped. "Just leave it alone." She turned her back on Cinder. "Leave me alone."

"Hey!" Cinder snapped, rising to her feet. "Don't be like that. I know you're upset, but there's no call to act like such a drama queen over it!"

"Why not?" Sunset asked in a surly tone.

"Because we've both been through so much worse?" Cinder suggested. "If you were to tally up the list of our low points, this wouldn't even make the top ten. So you still don't know what the mark on your rear end means, well, I'm sorry, but boo hoo! I appreciate that this is your culture, and I was hoping that you could find out the truth so that you could feel a little more satisfied with yourself, but come on!" She stepped over Sunset, and then turned around so that she was facing her once more as she knelt before her. "You didn't need to know your cutie mark to be great before, to rescue me, to lead your team, to win their loyalty, or their love.” She reached out and cupped Sunset’s face with her hand, running her claws through that fiery mane. “When we return to Remnant, nobody will care what your cutie mark is. You’ll kick ass regardless, just like always. So for the gods’ sake, stop acting as though this is the worst possible thing.”

Sunset smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “Of course you’re right.” She laughed. “I’m overreacting, as always.” She pulled away, leaving Cinder behind as she headed out onto the balcony. “I have been thinking, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Cinder murmured, as she followed Sunset out into the sunlight. “May one ask what you’ve been thinking about?”

Sunset sat down, letting the light fall upon her, making her mane gleam brightly, the sunlight burnishing gold and making the red seem even more vibrant than it did in shadow. “What if,” she began, glancing at Cinder, “we didn’t go back to Remnant? What if we stayed here?”

Cinder was silent for a moment. She had… well, she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t considered the possibility that Sunset could do this. This was, after all, her home, her kingdom; this was her mother in whose palace they were staying. Equestria was the place where Sunset had come from, and arguably, it was the place where she belonged. Cinder had thought that Sunset could stay; she certainly had the option to do so. But at the same time, even while she had feared the possibility, she had never really expected to hear Sunset give it voice.

Stay in Equestria? Not return to Remnant? Abandon Ruby and Pyrrha and Jaune and Blake and all the rest who meant so much to her? Give up the fight, after just telling Cinder that she planned to win the fight outright, end it once and for all? It was true that Sunset had come close to giving up the struggle before – by her own admission, she had surrendered to Dawn Starfall and been ready to embrace oblivion – but that had been at her lowest, when she had earnestly thought that she was doing what was best for Ruby.

Now, after that, after turning that corner, she was ready to throw in the towel again for a life of luxury? For soft beds and palace living?

Sunset was a great many things, but she was not the kind of person to forsake the battle for a mere taste of softness. That was not her at all.

Or at least, Cinder hoped she was not.

This, unfortunately, could not be explained merely as the byproduct of a bad day.

“Really?” she said softly, adopting a thoroughly disinterested tone. “Home comforts have proven so enjoyable that you cannot tear yourself away?”

Sunset grinned. “It is pretty nice here, isn’t it? Everyone is so very generous with their affection.”

“Hmm,” Cinder murmured. She pushed herself up to her feet. “Excuse me a moment.”

Sunset looked up at her. “Where are you going?”

“I need to speak to Cardin about something,” Cinder said. “If he’s going to be going home without us, the least that we could do is warn him about it, no?”

Sunset was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she agreed. “I guess so.”

“Don’t worry,” Cinder said. “I won’t be long.” She turned away and started to stride towards the door. “Unless you’d prefer to be alone?” she asked.

“No,” Sunset replied. “Not at all. Having you here, it… it fills me up with so much love.”

Cinder snorted. “How very saccharine and sentimental of you. We really are turning into Jaune and Pyrrha, aren’t we?”

Sunset chuckled. “I guess so. Hurry back.”

I’ll hurry back alright, Cinder thought to herself, as she left the room. As she closed the door behind her, it was all that she could do not to break into a run.

Cardin was the only one that she could trust. If Princess Celestia had acted normally when Cinder came in, she would have gone to her, but Princess Celestia had not acted normally; she had been just as abnormal as Sunset, and while that could have been excused in just one of them, when Sunset was acting strangely too, that was enough to make Cinder suspicious.

Her claws itched. What was going on? Who could she turn to? Princess Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer, hopefully, but they were both in Ponyville some distance away. There was another princess here in Canterlot, a Princess Luna, but Cinder had never met her and didn’t know how to find her even if she did trust her.

She didn’t know anyone – anypony – here. Cardin was the only one in the palace that she could count on.

Assuming that they hadn't gotten to him, too.

No one tried to intercept her as she made her way – swiftly, but not quite running, so as not to draw too much attention to herself – down the corridors and up the stairs to Cardin’s room. She hammered upon the door.

“Cardin!” she snapped. “Cardin, open up!”

There was a groan from the other side of the door. “It’s open.”

Cinder tried the door. It was indeed open, and so, she opened it and stepped inside – closing it after her – to find a large mound rising out of the bed, engulfed by sheets and duvet so that it could not be seen.

Despite the circumstances, the sight of it gave Cinder a moment’s pause. “Cardin?”

“Mmhm?”

Cinder folded her arms. “Have you been in bed all day?”

Cardin groaned. “It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he said as the mound shifted and shuffled and Cardin’s equine head emerged into view. “And the bed is comfortable, and the pillows are soft, and neither of those things has been true for me since we left Vale. Besides, we came here to relax, right? So, I’m relaxing. I might as well while I can.”

Cinder marched to his bedside. “You need to get up.”

“Why?” Cardin asked, stifling a yawn.

“Doesn’t sleeping in the day make you tired?” Cinder asked.

“Uh huh,” Cardin said. “I wake up dizzy, and my mouth has all kinds of crap in it.”

“Then why-?”

“That’s the great part; I’m not actually sleeping,” Cardin explained. “I’m resting my eyes in a comfortable environment.”

“An important distinction, I see,” Cinder murmured.

“Crucial,” Cardin agreed, oblivious to her sarcasm. “So, did you actually want anything, or-?”

“Something’s up with Sunset.”

Cardin rolled over on her. “Something is always up with Sunset,” he declared.

Cinder rolled her eyes. She grabbed the bedsheets and tore them off him, tossing them aside.

“Hey!” Cardin protested.

“I came in, and Princess Celestia was short with me,” Cinder said quickly, the words rattling out of her mouth at pace. “She was not her usual self. Now, I could ignore that, being as I am a guest here, but then I go up to Sunset’s room, and she tells me that she didn’t learn anything about her cutie mark, acts like that is the worst thing in the world, and then tells me that she means to stay here in Equestria and not return to Remnant.”

That last caused Cardin to sit up. “What? She’s going to stay here?”

“Apparently, yes.”

Cardin was silent for a moment. “Well that’s… well, crap. We’re going to have a hard time without her.”

“First of all, it’s almost cute that you think there might be a 'we' without her, but rather foolish at the same time,” Cinder said. “Second of all, obviously, you’re not going to have to manage by yourself because Sunset isn’t going to just give up and retire here to live in the palace and… do whatever princesses do!”

“But you just said-”

“Obviously, something has happened,” Cinder said.

“Something to make her change her mind?”

“No!” Cinder yelled. “For the gods’ sake, why is this concept so hard for you to grasp?”

“Because you’re not saying what you think is going on!”

“I don’t know what’s going on. I’m not from here; I don’t know the possibilities. All I know is that, whatever that is, it is not Sunset, and I can prove it.”

Cardin got down off the bed, his hooves thudding upon the floor. “How?”

“I don’t think that it has Sunset’s memories,” Cinder said. “If I can get it to say something that Sunset would never say, will you believe me?”

Cardin frowned. “Sure,” he said. “But then, what are we going to do about it?”

“Take it to Princess Twilight and hope that she can get us our Sunset back,” Cinder suggested. “And their Princess Celestia, while they’re about it.”

“Princess Celestia?” Sunset said, as the door swung open. “Surely there’s no need to bother her with this trivial matter?”

Cinder glanced over her shoulder. “I told you that I wouldn’t be long; there was no need for you to follow me.”

“I was curious what it was that you wanted to talk about with Cardin,” Sunset – or whoever it was – replied. “And I’m glad I did.” She trotted inside, her hooves clapping upon the floor. “What wild and funny ideas you have, Cinder. What, do you think that I am not myself? Well, then who am I? Cardin, you don’t believe this?”

“Is it true?” Cardin asked. “You want to stay here?”

“It is a nice place to stay, don’t you think?” Sunset asked. “Why would I want to go anywhere else?”

“Duty?” Cardin suggested.

Sunset snorted. “Duty, well… yes, I understand duty. Go where you are commanded, do as you are commanded, serve as you are commanded. But do not expect to be rescued if you are captured, do not expect to be avenged if you fall, do not expect to be remembered if you fail, for you are but one in a multitude, and you can always be replaced.”

“How very Atlesian of you,” Cinder muttered. “I always thought you were more of a Mistralian by temperament.”

Sunset didn’t respond to that; Cinder suspected that it was because she didn’t understand what Cinder had just said. Either that, or what she had just said had struck home with her: a look of weariness had crossed her face, such as Sunset had worn at Freeport, when she was reaching the end of her tether. But it passed, or she shook it off, and looked from Cinder to Cardin with a smile playing across her face.

“I understand duty perfectly well,” she repeated. “Do not lecture me upon where my duty lies or where it must take me.” She snorted. “And besides, is love not the death of duty?”

“So it is said, by some,” Cinder agreed. “So you have even proved, upon times, I admit.”

“Well then,” Sunset replied. “Is it so strange that I should do so again? Is it so bizarre that I should choose peace and comfort and happiness over whatever awaits us in… Remnant?”

“Yes,” said Cardin, bluntly.

“Then I am changed,” Sunset admitted. “But change is not a bad thing, is it? It is not a sign that I am not myself, only that myself is not what it was. And that’s good. We all change, don’t we? Neither of you are exactly the same as who you used to be, are you?”

That was true. If Cinder from a year ago met herself now, she would not recognise herself. Sunset herself had changed. And yet, this latest change, the one that they were asked to excuse, was so very sudden that it was giving Cinder whiplash. And where had it come from, unbidden and unhinted at? No, this explanation carried no water.

“Please,” Sunset urged. “My friends. Trust me, as you have before. Trust me, out of the memory of the many good and wonderful times that we have shared together.”

Cinder laughed. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?” she said, ignoring the way in which Cardin’s eyes were bulging like they were about to pop out of his head – either because of Cinder’s volte-face or else because he literally couldn’t think of any times he’d shared with Sunset that didn’t involve her making his life difficult. Cinder gave him no sign and spoke him no word and only hoped that he was smart enough not to give the game away before the trap sprang shut. She knelt down in front of Sunset. “Forgive me,” she begged. “I should have had more faith in you. Suspicion of my new girlfriend looks very ill on me, I concede.”

“You were only looking out for me,” Sunset said. “It’s fine. I forgive you. I forgive you everything.”

“I know,” Cinder replied. “Just as you always do.” She smiled. “Just as you forgave me for murdering Pyrrha in the Amity Colisseum.”

Sunset shrugged. “It wasn’t very nice of you, but you had your reasons.”

“I thought so,” Cinder agreed. “Except, of course-” Her hand shot out to grab whatever this thing impersonating Sunset was by the neck. She began to squeeze as she hoisted it up into the air, turned, and slammed this impostor into the nearest wall. “That never happened, and Sunset would never, never have forgiven me for it if it had!” Cinder leaned forwards, snorting licks of flame out of her nostrils to tickle this false Sunset’s face. “So you are going to tell me who you are and what you’ve done with the real Sunset, or I will slit you open from stem and stern and seek the answer amongst your entrails.”

“Let her go,” Princess Celestia demanded, cold fury in her voice.

Cinder glanced towards the doorway. She could see Princess Celestia there, and she could also see the numerous royal guards who were crowding into the room, passing through the door to stand between their princess and danger – and also to begin surrounding Cinder and Cardin.

The beating of wings alerted her to the pegasi dropping down onto the balcony from above.

Cinder did not release the false Sunset. Instead, with her free hand, she pointed towards Princess Celestia. “I do not know what that is,” she declared, “but I swear to you that she is not your princess.”

The faces of the royal guard were hard and grim and did not react to Cinder’s words. Of course they didn’t. This was Princess Celestia, whom they had pledged to serve, who had ruled over them since before their grandparents were children, who was celebrated throughout the land for the goodness of her rule. She wielded absolute power, and unlike any mortal ruler, she did so while being immune to the temptations of the same. She was loving and beloved, and she was their princess. Of course they would obey her, and of course they would not be thrown off by the words of some dragon, a guest in the palace, unknown to them.

It was, she had to admit, a very clever plan: replace the leader of the realm, and all the levers of power would fall into your hands – or hooves – like so many ripe plums.

And Equestria taken without a shot fired.

And they replaced Sunset because Sunset would have worked it out, and they feared an alicorn would have the power to stop them.

That did not bode well for Princess Twilight Sparkle, but hopefully, their power – whoever they were – had not yet radiated out from Canterlot. After all, Celestia and Sunset could not have been replaced except very recently. With good fortune, there would yet be time.

Provided she could get out of here to get a message to them.

“Cinder,” Cardin murmured. “Do what you have to do.”

Cinder tried to keep her eyes from widening. “Cardin-”

“That’s an order,” Cardin growled.

“I see,” Cinder said softly. “Then I hope we meet again.”

“Enough of this!” snapped the false Princess Celestia. “Take them!”

The guards began to move in. Cinder roared in anger as she hurled the false Sunset at them, the impostor wearing Sunset’s likeness flying into their armoured ranks like a bowling ball, knocking over ponies and scattering their mass as the centre of their formation tumbled backwards in a heap.

Cardin was on them before they could recover, his hooves thundering as he charged forward, bellowing at the top of his voice. He was bigger than any pony who wore the armour of the royal guard, their heads only coming up to his shoulders, and what he lacked in experience in his pony form, he made up for in sheer size and strength. He crashed into them, bodily bearing them backwards, knocking them down and sending them flying across the floor. He had no armour, but he was strong enough to put dents in their cuirasses as he lashed out in all directions with his hooves, rearing up in the air to kick wildly with his forehooves at anypony who came close.

Goodbye, Cardin Winchester. Cinder turned away, towards the window. There were still the pegasi to deal with, but with the unicorns who had come in the other way completely occupied dealing with Cardin, Cinder could approach them without any worries about her rear.

The pegasi flew towards her, and Cinder ran to meet them, arms out, claws bared. She wasn’t aiming to kill any of them – they were only doing their jobs, serving whom they believed to be the rightful princess of their kingdom – but it would do her no harm if they thought that she was a bloodthirsty dragon who wouldn’t hesitate to kill them all and not lose a wink of sleep over it.

And to help with that impression, and because she could, she opened her mouth and breathed out a great gust of flame, fire erupting out of her throat in a plume that made those pegasi scatter before her, breaking off to avoid getting their feathers singed – or worse. They scattered, and so made way for Cinder, who reached the balcony.

She jumped up onto the railing, took a look down at the drop below, spread her wings, and leapt.

Unfortunately, she’d never learnt to fly with wings.

Cinder flapped her leathery appendages as hard as she could, and yet, she did not fly. She kept on flapping, to no effect. No air would catch beneath her wings, no thrust would come. Only the ground was coming, faster and faster, closer and closer.

Cinder shouted, and as she shouted, she roared out fire from her mouth. This was how she had flown when she had been half a Maiden, this was a technique she knew: use the fire to create counterforce that would propel you in the opposite direction, either up or across.

Hopefully the same principle held here in Equestria.

Well, sort of; it did not make her fly, but it did at least slow her descent so that when she landed – twisting her body in the air so that she landed on her feet, albeit not looking nearly as cool as she would have liked – it only made her ankles wince a little instead of breaking her bones.

“There she is!”

“Get her!”

Cinder looked around. She had landed in a plaza of stone, with a stage set for some kind of show erected at the far end. Ponies – and no other creatures – were milling around, and many of them were turning to look at Cinder with fear and alarm in their eyes and on their faces.

Cinder ignored them, more interested in the geography than the population. Where could she go? The bridge! There was a bridge at the western end of the plaza, and Cinder raced towards it, her legs pounding.

Everypony got out of her way. That was wise of them, and Cinder was glad of their wisdom. No have-a-go hero tried to stop her, no brave and virtuous citizen tried to assist the guards; they leapt aside and cleared a path for her.

No doubt, they expected a hero to be along at any moment to deal with this.

In normal circumstances, they doubtless would have been right.

It wasn’t a good idea for ordinary people to step into these kinds of situations when they didn’t have to.

Cinder gained the bridge only for more guards to drop from the sky in front of her. She looked behind her to see other guards closing in from behind.

But beneath her… beneath her, a river flowed rapidly on beneath – towards a waterfall.

Cinder grinned. I wonder how many stories of escape they tell in Equestria?

She jumped off the bridge and landed in the cool blue water beneath.

It was very cold against her scales. Cinder’s whole body was shivering and shaking as she breached the surface, gasping for breath as the waters bore her swiftly and inexorably on. As she was swept away, Cinder looked back to see the pony guards lining the bridge from which she’d jumped, but none of them followed her. They stood upon the bridge and watched as she was carried to the waterfall.

And then she lost sight of them as she dropped, falling down and down and down until-

SPLASH!

Cinder hit the surface of the lake beneath so hard it felt as though her ruby scales would crack.

She lay underwater for a while, holding her breath, the inner fire battling with the cold of the water to determine whether she would freeze or not, waiting for the moment when it would be safe to emerge without attracting attention.

It was growing dark by the time that she crawled out of the water, gasping for breath.

It was growing dark, and that gave Cinder pause as she lay on the grass by the side of the lake. If Princess Celestia controlled the sun, and the sun was setting, then how was the sun setting? Had who or whatever had taken her also taken her power over the sun? Or was Cinder mistaken?

No, that was not Sunset. In that, at least, I am not mistaken.

It was fully night by the time she arrived at Ponyville, the moon shining brightly on the little village as Cinder crept stealthily towards the crystalline Castle of Friendship.

She approached from behind, and so was in a position to spot Starlight Glimmer and Trixie, hiding in the lee of Trixie’s wagon.

Starlight looked concerned – which was itself concerning to Cinder – but Trixie was having a full on panic attack, her breathing coming in rapid, gasping breaths, her eyes wide, her pupils tiny by comparison.

“I can’t deal with this!” she wailed. “I’m just a performer! This is… this is princess level stuff! But the changelings have all the princesses! We’re doomed!” She laid her head down on the floor and covered her eyes with her hooves as her whole body trembled in fright.

Starlight bit her lip, then attempted to put on a brave face moments before putting a brave face on things. “Maybe not,” she suggested, patting Trixie on the flank. “Uh… Sunset Shimmer is supposed to be a great fighter, maybe she can-”

“They got Sunset,” Cinder growled, emerging from her concealment. “I had come here hoping to get help from Princess Twilight, but I gather that they’ve got her as well.”

Starlight closed her eyes. “Yes. Princess Twilight and all of her friends have been abducted and replaced by changelings.” She opened her eyes again, and looked at Cinder. “And they also have Celestia and Luna too, don’t they?”

“I cannot speak for Princess Luna, but I am prepared to say that, yes, Princess Celestia is taken also,” Cinder said. “What are changelings?”

“Basically, they feed off love and can take on the appearance of other ponies,” Starlight said quickly. “Okay, so they have Sunset Shimmer as well, but maybe Princess Cadance is still safe. If we can get to the Crystal Empire before the changelings do-”

“There’s no help coming from the Crystal Empire,” declared a melancholy voice, as a creature previously unknown to Cinder stepped out of a bush.

It – he, judging by the voice – looked like a cross between a pony and an insect; he had four legs, a pony-shaped body, a roughly equine head with a little horn emerging out of his forehead, and a pair of gleaming gossamer wings attached to his back. But his body was also covered in black carapace; in fact, his entire body was black, like a beetle, and his eyes had neither whites nor pupils, just a solid aquamarine colour. A pair of fangs emerged from out of his mouth, and his black legs had holes in them as though someone had been using him for target practice.

Whoever or whatever he was, his appearance sent Trixie back into a panic; she shrieked in alarm and backed up against the side of her wagon, rearing up and kicking her forehooves at the empty air.

Starlight’s horn flared turquoise as she conjured up a shield around Trixie, muffling her cries as well as giving the other unicorn something to pound against.

“This is a changeling,” she explained to Cinder. “But he’s on our side,” she added quickly. “This is Thorax… although your wings look a little different.”

Thorax glanced back at his own wings. “I guess they do?”

“Possibly because you aren’t actually this Thorax,” Cinder growled.

“No, it’s me!” Thorax protested. “Starlight, you were there when Spike defended me to the ponies of the Crystal Empire. Princess Twilight said–” Thorax’s whole body was engulfed in aquamarine flame which leapt upwards and then passed in a moment, leaving behind a perfect replica of Princess Twilight Sparkle. Thorax, in this guise, placed a hoof upon his heart and said, in Princess Twilight’s voice, “'As the Princess of Friendship, I should set an example to all of Equestria, but today, it was Spike who taught me-'”

“Okay!” Starlight cried, holding up one hoof to forestall any more. “Okay, I believe you. We don’t need the whole speech.”

“I don’t know, that sounded as if it might be rather inspiring,” Cinder said. “But this is Thorax, and Thorax is on our side.”

“Right,” Starlight said as Thorax changed back into what seemed to be his normal appearance. “Thorax is a reformed changeling.” She looked at Trixie. “He’s one of the good guys now, understand?”

Trixie had calmed down enough to nod silently, although she still collapsed in a heap on the ground when Starlight dispelled the shield.

Nor was she particularly interested in taking Thorax’s hoof when he offered it.

“Thorax,” Starlight said, “what did you mean that there was no help coming from the Crystal Empire? Did the changelings get Princess Cadance, too?”

Thorax’s ears drooped. “Princess Cadance, Shining Armor, and Flurry Heart. Sunburst sent me to get help-”

“How did this Sunburst know?” Cinder demanded. “The changeling that replaced Princess Celestia tried to have me arrested for realising there was something wrong.”

Thorax bowed his head. “That makes sense. They threw Sunburst into the dungeons; I only got out by changing my appearance to fool the guards. But before they got him, Sunburst told me I had to get help from Princess Twilight, but it sounds like it’s too late for that too. So what shall we do?”

“Yeah, Starlight,” Trixie said, grabbing her by both forehooves. “What are we going to do?”

Starlight glanced from Thorax to Trixie. “I… I don’t know! Cinder! You’ve led in the world you come from-”

“The what now?” Thorax said.

“Right,” Starlight said. “Thorax, this is Cinder, she comes from another world, where she is a leader-”

“I was a leader,” Cinder corrected her. “Of sorts. And that was in another world, I don’t know this place.” Not to mention the death toll associated with my ‘leadership.’ “You’re Princess Twilight’s student!”

“Yes, I’m a student!” Starlight cried. “Because I’m still learning! There must be somepony else who can deal with this!”

“There is nopony else,” Trixie insisted. “Everypony else with powerful magic has already gone!”

“You know, whenever ponies talk about powerful magic, they always seem to leave me out,” declared a smooth, urbane, older male-sounding voice. “If I weren’t so evolved, I might decide to take it personally.”

Perched atop Trixie’s wagon was the most bizarre creature that Cinder had ever set eyes upon. His head was… well, it possibly resembled a long-necked horse, although it bore so little resemblance to the ponies that surrounded her that it took Cinder a moment to make that connection, and was a muddy green in colour with a short black mane, and one deer antler and one crooked goat’s horn emerging from out of his head, while a single fang dropped down from his upper lip. His body was serpentine, being mostly brown except for his tail, with his scaly and red. He had the right arm of a lion, the left claw of an eagle, the right leg of a lizard, and the left leg of a goat, not to mention one pegasus wing and one bat wing, which looked far too small for his body.

And he was knitting. Knitting some sort of bunny rabbit, what was more.

He turned his yellow eyes, which were of uneven size and topped with a pair of bushy white eyebrows, upon them. “Well, isn’t this quite the combination of secondary characters.” He looked at Cinder. “And a crossover, apparently.” He frowned at his knitting for a moment. “Where are Twilight and the girls?”

“Why don’t you tell us who you are, first,” Cinder suggested.

The strange creature looked at her with boredom in his yellow eyes. He raised his eagle claw and snapped it.

Cinder was momentarily bathed in light, and when the light receded… she was human again, Cinder Fall just as she was in Remnant, and no dragon at all.

Cinder’s eyes widened as she looked down at her distinctly human hands. “H-how-?”

“I’m Discord,” he said languidly, leaning back to lie down upon the top of Trixie’s wagon. “Lord of Chaos, warper of the fabric of reality, spreader of excitement and joy through otherwise boring existences. I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, Cinder Fall, but-” He snapped his claw a second time, and Cinder was a dragon once again. “-I’m afraid you’re not interesting enough for meeting you to be pleasant.”

Cinder stared at him. Lord of Chaos? Warper of reality? Someone who could change her from one shape to another with a snap of his claw?

She had never felt so naked in her life. Not even when she had stood before Salem had she felt so vulnerable. Such power at his command, and nothing she could do about it. No matter what she did, no matter what she thought, she was defenceless against this power. He could do whatever he liked to her, and she would have to endure it.

That was what Cinder had striven half her life against, ever since she had escaped the house of her stepmother; she had fought never to be in a position where she was so powerless that another could do to her or with her as they would and she had no recourse but to roll over and take it.

And that was where she stood now, against the power of Discord. A power so great she dared not even show how much she hated this.

Starlight seemed to be beyond such concerns, which Cinder thought was either very brave of her or rather naïve. “Discord!” she cried. “We could really use your help right now. Chrysalis and the changelings are back! They’ve ponynapped all of the most powerful ponies in Equestria: Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Shining Armor, Flurry Heart, Twilight and her friends-”

Discord had been yawning as Starlight had rattled off her list, but when it came to Twilight and her friends, he stopped. All trace of boredom left his face, and as his long neck descended downwards towards Starlight, forcing her to give ground before him, his red pupils began to glow with an angry flame. His voice, when it came, was hard and sharp, all humour and playfulness flying from it. “They took Fluttershy?”

Cinder found herself taking a step back. The power at his command alone had told her this was not a being to be trifled with, and now, the voice confirmed it.

“Yes,” Starlight replied.

“Where?” Discord demanded.

“They’ll all have been imprisoned in the Changeling Kingdom,” Thorax said.

Starlight grinned in anticipation. “With you on our side, we-”

Discord didn’t give her the chance to finish. He snapped his claw again, and this time, the light was so blinding that Cinder had to close her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them again, it was daylight once more, and she stood somewhere completely different from where she had been a moment ago. Teleportation, obviously; of Sunset’s powers, that she was perhaps the most jealous of.

Except she thought that they had been teleported a good deal further than Sunset could have managed. Gone was the Castle of Friendship, gone was Ponyville, gone was everything. In its place, they stood at the edge of some woodland, the trees giving way to empty grass with a few rocks of dull brown colour dotted here and there.

The locale was not all that had changed. Starlight and Trixie – who, along with Thorax, were looking around their new surroundings – were loaded down with camping gear upon their backs; Discord also wore a pack, and a blue scarf wrapped around his neck. Only Thorax was completely unencumbered, because Cinder had been clad in a suit of armour of glimmering obsidian, the volcanic glass reflecting back the light of the now-risen sun. It formed a cuirass upon her chest, attached to a black gambeson of softer and more supple material which covered her body up to the neck and down to the tail. Obsidian pauldrons covered her shoulders, and vambraces her wrists and forearms. Her knees and feet were likewise protected, though her thighs and ankles were not, and at the back of her tail, obsidian spikes protruded out from a black sock that covered her scales.

She had been made a black knight, off to the rescue of her sun-kissed maid. The only thing she lacked was a weapon.

“Odd,” Discord observed, picking up a rock with his leonine hand and looking underneath it. “I was trying to take us right to Fluttershy, but there is no Fluttershy.” His eyes extended out of his head like disgusting yellow worms and began to swish about on the ground like Sunset’s tail when she was agitated.

Trixie squeaked in alarm. “I think I have a pretty good idea where she might be,” she whimpered, her whole body trembling, even the forehoof that she was using to point.

All eyes turned that way, and all eyes fell upon the blasted waste that began just a few feet beyond them, as the ground fell away into a steep drop and all grass and flowers and living things died away. Before them lay a great bowl basin, made up of nothing more than barren rock and dead soil, rising and falling in mounds that resembled nothing more than so many layers of jagged teeth, as though the land itself was a living monster waiting to swallow up unwary travellers.

And in the centre of the basin, in the centre of the jaws, a great castle of dark stone arose out of the earth. Literally, it seemed not so much to have been built as to have grown organically out of the earth, twisting and turning as it went, forming rough spires and uneven protuberances, everything pointing upwards like so many crooked fingers, culminating in the tallest spire of all which bent first this way and then the other, almost zigzagging its way upwards towards the clouds. The fortress was filled with holes, just like Thorax’s legs, and Cinder wondered how it was that so fragile a structure did not collapse beneath its own weight.

And all around the highest spires, the changelings buzzed. They could scarcely be seen: black dots against a sickly yellow sky, but their buzzing could be heard all this way away where Cinder and the others stood.

“I’d hoped to never see that place again,” moaned Thorax as he came to stand beside Trixie. “Now what?” he asked, looking at Starlight.

Trixie also looked at Starlight. So too, a moment later, did Discord.

Starlight bit her lip, her whole body tensing.

And she said nothing as the fear took hold of them.

Cinder recognised it in her eyes. She recognised it in Starlight’s whole body language. She recognised it in Trixie and Thorax also. If this had been Remnant, their anxiety would have already begun to draw the grimm.

“Now, we do what we came here to do,” Cinder declared harshly. “Now, we do what we must. Now, we do whatever it takes.” She paused for a moment. “Trixie, Thorax, Starlight, is this your first time in this kind of danger?”

“I was part of the attack on Canterlot,” Thorax offered. “But I didn’t really do anything… and we lost. And that’s a good thing!” he added quickly, lest anyone get the wrong ideas about his loyalty.

“Trixie tried to stop an ursa major once,” Trixie volunteered. “And I failed.”

Not exactly Team SAPR, is it? Cinder thought to herself. Still, we must do what we can with what we have. “So you are green then, and inexperienced. But so was every adventurer, every hero that has ever been. Princess Twilight and her friends once stood where you stand now, on the cusp of their first adventure, their first battle, their first plunge into a world of peril and risk. Yet they took that step, and they triumphed, as we will triumph here today.

“I do not tell you that it will be easy,” Cinder went on. “You know better than I the nature of this foe, but I have eyes and ears, and I can tell that they are fierce and numerous. Our path to victory will be a difficult one. But it is a path that we can and we will navigate successfully.

“I know that this is not the first time the changelings have attempted to assault your kingdom. Equestria has beaten them in the past, and Equestria will defeat them again. They do not know that we are here, they do not even know that we are coming; as far as they know, I am at the bottom of a lake, and you are unaware that anything is amiss in Equestria. Surprise is on our side. Magic is on our side. A warper of reality is on our side. I am on your side, and my fire is hot!

“You know the odds that are at stake. They have taken your princesses, they have taken your friends, they have taken my Sunset! Victory means that we shall rescue all those who are dear to us, expose the impostors masquerading as them, and save all of Equestria for another day. Defeat means that all of Equestria shall pass into the rule of the changelings, and those we love the most shall languish in their dread captivity.

“I do not mean to let that happen. And so I say to you all, I beg of you all, remember who you are. Remember what you are. Trust your gifts, and we will bring our loved ones home again safe and sound.”

Starlight took a deep breath. She looked more comfortable already. “Of course. We can do this. We have to do this.” She looked at Cinder. “So, what’s the plan?”

Cinder blinked. “'The plan'?”

“You gave the big speech,” Starlight pointed out. “You have some idea of how we can make it happen, right?”

“I… yes,” Cinder lied. “Yes, of course I know what to do, I know precisely what to do; we…” Her eyes alighted upon Discord. Well, of course, easy when you think about it for a second. “We are going to use him.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan,” Trixie muttered.

“What else could we possibly need?” Discord asked, in a tone of amused hauteur.

“You see, the thing is-” Thorax began.

“Detailed plans are for the weak,” Cinder explained. “When you have power, you should use that power as quickly as you can, as hard as you can, before the enemy can mount a response or a countermeasure.” She had had to sneak around Beacon because she lacked the power to bring down the Emerald Tower, or to overcome General Ironwood’s ships and armies; if she had had Ironwood’s power at her command, she would have fallen upon Beacon from the air with the utmost despatch, levelled the school and combed the ruins for the relic. “Discord, you can do… whatever you like, can’t you?”

Discord looked insufferably. “Anything at all.”

“Except that-” Thorax started.

“Although I am a little surprised that we ended up here when I meant for us to end up over there, with Fluttershy,” Discord added.

“I can explain that,” Thorax said.

“Teleportation is a difficult thing, I’m told,” Cinder assured him. “Nevertheless, you have the power that we need, and our enemies currently do not know that we’re here, so you should use your power before they realise your presence and respond.” And besides, the more swiftly we get this done, the quicker we can part ways, and I don’t have to worry about what you might do to me next.

“That… makes some sense,” Starlight conceded.

“Except-”

“Quite so,” Discord said. “Thank you, Cinder, it’s so nice to have my talents recognised. Something that is unfortunately rare around here,” he added, with a glance at Trixie. He snapped his leonine fingers, and a large, rotund pig with wings that looked far too small to be enabling it to fly as it was appeared underneath him, with Discord mounted atop it and holding a lance like some sort of parody of a knight. “Tally ho! For Fluttershy!” he declared, and the pig soared forwards – only for pig and lance alike to disappear as soon as they passed over the ledge. Discord hung, suspended in the air for a moment, before he plunged downwards, and only just managed to grab the ledge in time to prevent himself from falling.

Cinder offered him a hand up as she, Trixie, and Starlight approached the ledge, but Discord didn’t take it as he scrambled up onto the bank all by himself.

“What happened?” Starlight asked.

“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Thorax cried. “Chrysalis’ throne is made of an ancient black stone that soaks up outside magic the same way that changelings soak up love. It’s how she protects the hive from attack: only changelings can use our magic here.”

Cinder took a deep breath, and blew a jet of white hot flame out of her mouth and off the ledge, only to watch the fire fizzle and die out the moment it crossed the invisible threshold, as only a few wisps of smoke drifted up into the air.

“This gets better and better, doesn’t it?” Cinder muttered.

“So, Starlight,” Trixie said. “What kind of plan were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know!” Starlight exclaimed. “Without magic, I have no idea. But nopony else is coming, so somepony better come up with something.”

No one said anything, not even Cinder – although she hoped that she didn’t look as completely clueless as Thorax and Trixie as they both looked at Starlight as though the very idea that they might have a plan was absurd.

“Anypony?” Starlight asked, more in desperation than in hope. She waited for a moment, only to be greeted by the same silence as before. “Anything?” She looked at Cinder. “Cinder, you brought down a kingdom in the world you came from.”

“First of all, that didn’t work,” Cinder admitted. “Second of all, to the extent that it did work, it took months of preparation, a greater degree of knowledge of… everything about the area and situation than I possess here, and the assistance of an insider to get me undercover – so I suppose you could say that it also required me to be able to go undercover and not be spotted immediately; oh, and it also cost a thousand lives, so I think it’s fair to say that we do not have the time, the resources, or the disposable warm bodies to follow in my footsteps.”

“Well, I’m sorry for thinking that you might be able to help in this situation!” Starlight snapped.

“I’m sorry too, I just… I’m-”

“We’re all worried,” Starlight said, her voice softening. “We’re all worried, and we all care. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

Cinder wasn’t entirely convinced by that, but she believed that Starlight believed it, and she believed that it was true of Starlight. We have enemies enough amongst the changelings without rowing with one another.

Okay. Think. What would Sunset do?

No. What will I do?

Probably the same thing she’d do. Something stupid.

“Thorax,” Cinder said, “if I challenge Chrysalis to single combat, will she accept?”

“What?” Starlight demanded.

“If I can beat her, then I can force her to release Sunset and the others,” Cinder explained.

“That’s a big ‘if,’ don’t you think?” Starlight asked.

“Perhaps I’m confident in my abilities.”

“I’m not confident in risking everything on a throw of the dice like that!” Starlight said.

“Besides, Chrysalis wouldn’t do something like that,” Thorax said. “Not unless she was absolutely certain she could win. She’d just have the hive swarm you.”

“So she is a coward,” Cinder spat.

“Coward or not, we need a better idea,” Starlight said. “Were you serious?”

“It is the old way,” Cinder declared.

“They call it the old way because it’s old, and nobody does it like that any more,” Thorax muttered.

Starlight sighed. “If the throne is what is preventing us from using our magic, will we get our magic back if we destroy it?”

“Uh huh,” Thorax said, nodding emphatically.

“Then that’s what we do,” Starlight declared. “Get into the hive, destroy the throne, free our friends.”

“Well, that’s a terrible idea,” Discord said. “How are we even supposed to get into the hive?”

“We walk?” Trixie suggested, in a voice laced with sarcasm, as she and Starlight slid down the barren slope to the wastes that surrounded the hive. Thorax followed swiftly after, leaving Cinder and Discord stood upon the grassy verge.

Discord groaned. “I haven’t walked that far in a millenia.”

“Would you like me to carry you?” Cinder asked.

Discord gave her a rather dirty look, which prompted Cinder to take a step back, fearful of what he might do to her while they were still in this place where he might do anything he wished to her, but all that he did was turn away and pick his way, with the greatest care, down the slope after the others.

Cinder decided that it might be better for her dignity if, instead of scrambling down, she just leapt down instead, keeping her useless wings tucked in at her sides as she took a run at the verge, flying off the grass and over the bare rock below.

She plummeted like a stone but managed to pull off the landing with knees bent and one fist touching the ground. It was a pity Sunset wasn’t around to see it.

It was also something of a pity that she landed so heavily upon the ground that the shockwave knocked Discord off his feet.

“Sorry about that,” Cinder murmured idly, although truth to tell, she was not nearly as sorry as she would have been if he had been in a position to do anything in response to her. Here, while she had lost the draconic abilities that she had acquired on entering Equestria, that had only brought her back to the state to which she had been reduced when she gave away the Fall Maiden powers to Sunset.

The state at which I became completely useless and unable to contribute to anything.

Well… let’s not think too hard about that.

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she approached Discord. Robbed of his powers, he seemed – he was – a good deal less fearsome. It was ironic; he had been stripped of all his ability to aid them, deprived of the power that would have given them swift victory otherwise, but at the same time, Cinder was glad of the fact. She would rather find another way to triumph and be protected from him for a little while.

While she was protected from him, she once again offered him a hand up.

“Hmph,” Discord said, as he accepted. “You could have just climbed down like the rest of us.”

“I’d rather leap than risk a fall,” Cinder explained. “Much less demeaning that way.” She paused for a moment. “May I ask you something?”

“This hardly seems like the moment for chit-chat,” Discord replied.

“Do you have anything better to do while we walk?” Cinder asked as they both began to follow Starlight, Trixie, and Thorax.

“I suppose not,” Discord grumbled. “Although I must warn you, I’ve never been particularly interested in crossovers.”

“You’ve said that before, and I still don’t know what it means.”

“Crossing over, from another world?” Discord said.

“Ah,” Cinder said. “Yes, of course.” She wasn’t sure that was what he meant, but she couldn’t have said why. She supposed that it wasn’t particularly important. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“Why am I here?” Discord repeated. “What do you mean, why am I here? I’m here for Fluttershy!”

“But why?” Cinder pressed. “You can – or at least you could, when we were not in the presence of this black stone – bend the very fabric of reality to your whim. Your power is terrifying.”

“'Terrifying'?” Discord asked. “It’s been some time since anyone last called me terrifying.”

“Do you miss it?” Cinder asked.

“No,” Discord said.

Cinder reserved judgement on whether to believe him or not. “The most powerful being in my world cannot do half of what you can do. From the shadows, Salem holds all of Remnant in terror, and yet, you could destroy her with a snap of your fingers.”

“Perhaps I could,” Discord said idly. “But what fun would it be if I did?” He smiled. “You see, Cinder Fall, I’m not a tame draconequus; I don’t go around solving other people’s problems just because I could.”

“And yet, here you are,” Cinder pointed out. “Ready to solve this problem.”

“And that surprises you?” Discord asks.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you’re unwilling to solve our problems in Remnant,” Cinder said. “Why should a being of your power concern yourself with the doings of the ants? But, having all the power that you have, why would you-?”

“Why did you give up your power?” Discord asked. “If not because some people are worth it?”

Cinder stared at him. “It’s that simple?”

“Not everything has to be complicated,” Discord replied.

Cinder snorted. “No,” she agreed. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” She paused. “Thank you for the armour.”

“It seemed appropriate,” Discord said.

“It’s something of a pity that you didn’t give me a weapon as well,” Cinder said. “It seems that, for all that we say they are not magic, my semblance is sufficiently magical that it doesn’t work here.” The same could be said of her aura, which she could no longer feel; the fact that she was a dragon meant that she didn’t feel as weak as she ordinarily would have without her aura, but any injuries that she sustained would affect her far more than they would have done had her protective shield been in place.

Which was why it was a good thing she had the armour, wasn’t it?

Still, as they made their way across the barren waste, with the changeling hive growing ever closer to them as they walked, Cinder found herself thinking more upon this ancient dark stone that absorbed magic – and apparently semblances and aura too. Such a stone could be of great use – yes, they had to destroy Chrysalis’ throne to save their friends, but that in itself could be useful by breaking it down into smaller chunks, which could be carried across worlds, say.

Except, of course, that they would not only nullify the enemy’s magic, but theirs as well – including the magic used to travel between worlds.

And yet it didn’t feel right not to at least try. They ought to be able to get some sort of advantage from it, surely?

She continued to ponder the matter as they crossed the wastes. Time passed, the sun beat down upon them, and the silence amongst the rescue party was broken by Discord complaining.

“Oh, my feet. I don’t know how any of you manage not being able to disappear and reappear whenever you want.”

“I certainly miss you being able to disappear,” Trixie growled.

“Give Discord a break,” Starlight said. “Nopony knew that we weren’t going to be able to use magic.”

“I did,” Thorax said.

“Nobody likes the person who says ‘I told you so,’ Thorax,” Cinder said.

Starlight halted. “Before we get in there, it might make sense to have a way to make sure we are who we say we are, in case we get separated.”

“Oh, like a secret code!” Discord exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. He began to pace up and down. “How about if I say ‘we’re’ and you say ‘doomed’? Or you say ‘rescue’ and I say-” What he said was an alarmed squawk as he tripped over a rock and landed flat on his face with a thump.

Trixie smirked. “How about you say ‘klutzy’ and we say ‘draconequus’?”

“Klutzy draconequus,” Starlight repeated. “Works for me.”

“I’ll definitely remember it,” Thorax said.

You’re a bit of a brown-noser, aren’t you? Cinder thought. “Very well,” she said softly, before for the third time offering Discord – who was lying on the ground looking rather disgruntled at having been made the butt of the joke – a hand up.

“We are stronger than we look,” Cinder told him. “You should have more hope.”

Discord got up by himself, without any assistance from her, and dusted down his body with his hands. “How?” he asked. “How are we stronger?”

“Because we dare,” Cinder declared. “We dare the odds, we dare the robbery of all our power, we dare capture, we dare all things – and all things worthwhile begin with daring. Because we dare, we yet may change the world, even without your magic.”

Discord regarded her warily. “Does that blind optimism always work out for you?”

“I’m not dead yet,” Cinder said.

“That isn’t particularly reassuring,” Discord muttered.

Cinder smirked at him, and then turned away as they all resumed their journey towards the hive.

The changeling hive, when they finally reached it, having traversed all the open wastes that surrounded it, was almost laughably undefended from the ground. Two sentries, wearing dark blue chitinous armour, complete with helmets incorporating what looked like the pincers of certain types of beetle, stood before an incomplete archway of green stone, like two horns emerging out of the ground, that preceded a kind of pathway – marked by more eruptions of stone – leading to the main entrance into the hive itself. And yet, the group circumvented those two sentries easily, approaching from a different angle and, by means of creeping through the rocky outcroppings that formed the immediate surroundings of the hive, were able to get behind them unnoticed.

There were no other sentinels, and no patrols either, and although most of the ground that they had crossed was open, devoid of any features that would have concealed them, the changelings swarming about the pinnacle of the hive had not seen them, or not given the alarm if they had.

It was all just a little too easy for Cinder’s liking; she wondered if this was how Sunset had felt, leading her team into Mountain Glenn.

At least there, I made sure to throw some little obstacles into her path, to make them feel like they were accomplishing something.

Thorax got their attention with a silent tap on Starlight’s shoulder, gesturing wordlessly to a hole set a few feet up in the wall of the hive. He flew in, his gossamer wings fluttering silently as he disappeared into the darkness.

Cinder was the next to follow, her legs easily allowing her to make the leap as she scrambled up into the hive itself. The home of the changelings was a place of blue-grey rock, where lanterns of a sickly green, shaped like cocoons, shone dimly to drive away the darkness; the earth looked as though it had grown rather than been shaped, with rough and sometimes jagged edges, random sharp outcroppings, hollows that led nowhere, and gaps between ledges that you would have to leap across or down to get to.

And it was moving, holes in the walls opening and closing almost at random, corridors being sealed off at the same rate that new ones opened up before her.

“Okay, I am definitely glad you came,” Trixie said, as she and Starlight used Discord’s long, serpentine body as a ramp up to the raised hole in the wall. “I don’t think we’d be able to find our way without you.”

“You definitely wouldn’t,” Thorax said, in that tone of voice that Cinder was really starting to dislike.

Discord was the last one up, scrambling inside just before the hole in the wall closed up behind them with an audible groaning of the rock.

Trixie let out a squeak of alarm. “Uh, where’s the way out?”

“This is a changeling hive,” Thorax explained, as though they would never have guessed otherwise. “It shifts and changes just like we do. It’s total chaos to non-changelings.”

“Easy in but not easily out,” Cinder murmured.

“You think that walk was easy?” Discord asked.

Cinder ignored that. “There is an impressive concern for security at work here,” she declared. “You could lead an army here, and not only would they arrive tired and absent any powers they might possess, but they would also struggle to navigate this shifting labyrinth… and yet, the same concern doesn’t apply to guards? Is it normal to only have two sentries guarding only the most obvious way in?”

“It is a little odd,” Thorax admitted. “Pharynx usually takes patrolling really seriously.”

“Maybe they’ve let their guard down, seeing as they’ve pretty much won everything,” Starlight suggested. “Anyway, we haven’t been ambushed yet, so there’s no point standing around speculating over whether or not this is a trap. Thorax, lead the way.”

Thorax did, in fact, lead the way, leading them through the maze of shifting corridors, up the staircases that sometimes grew before them and sometimes collapsed behind them. At times they had to dive through doors that were about to close; other times, they were too slow for that and had to wait for them to open again, or else take what felt to Cinder like a much longer detour.

They saw no one. They heard no one. There was no sound but their own footfalls, echoing in the empty corridors, or in the even emptier vast, cavernous hallways which they sometimes had to cross, yet even in those open spaces, tall and wide, there was no sign of any changeling.

It was making Cinder’s hands itch, as her sense of a trap grew moment by moment, and yet, what could they do but keep walking into it and hope they were strong enough to fight their way out when the moment came?

She did not like this place. It was too dark; it was at once too big and too small, too cramped and too vast; it was too underground; it was too empty. She didn’t like the moving rock, she didn’t like the eerie lanterns in that wretched colour, she didn’t like their guide, she didn’t like the sense that a hostile will was shepherding them further and further in before the jaws – like those on the helmets of the sentries outside – snapped shut.

This is definitely how Sunset felt in Mountain Glenn.

I owe her an apology for that.

“Are we sure I’ll get my magic back once we destroy this throne?” Discord asked as they descended one set of stairs only to climb up another.

“If Thorax is right, then yes,” Starlight replied.

“That’s reassuring,” Discord muttered.

“And how are we supposed to destroy the throne when we find it?” Trixie asked.

“I… don’t know,” Starlight admitted.

“That’s reassuring,” Trixie muttered.

Cinder sighed. “Wait a moment,” she said, and they came to a halt upon the rocky landing at the top of the stairs. Cinder knelt down, took a breath, and then brought her hand down, claws first, into the rock. The stone fractured, giving way before her talons as Cinder dug her draconic fingers into the stone, before heaving upwards to rip a chunk of rock out of the ground.

She closed her fist, crushing the chunk of rock to splinters which fell to land with little rattles down at her feet.

“I may not be able to breathe fire, and I may not have my semblance, but it appears that the strength of a dragon is not magic,” Cinder declared. “When we reach the throne, I’ll tear it apart, piece by piece.”

Starlight sighed. “That’s a relief. At least one of us isn’t completely useless without magic. Between you and Thorax knowing where we’re going-”

“Uh, guys?” Thorax called out from up ahead. “I… think we’re lost.”

Thorax stood upon an outcropping extending out into empty air in the midst of another of the great halls that periodically dotted the changeling hive. The chasm between their outcropping and the matching one on the other side was too great to be leapt by any creature without flight, and the drop down to the bottom was so great that even Cinder would have hesitated to chance it without some means of slowing her descent.

Cinder folded her arms. “Well, that is very convenient, isn’t it?”

Thorax looked up at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know very well what it’s supposed to mean,” Cinder snarled. “‘Oh, I knew that none of you could use your magic.’ ‘Oh, I can lead you through the hive!’ Lead us all into a sack, more like.”

“Cinder, calm down,” Starlight urged. “Thorax is a reformed changeling-”

“According to him,” Cinder replied. “How do you know he hasn’t been playing the long game at his queen’s command: play the defector, ingratiate yourself, pretend to be so broken up about all the princesses and notables being captured, put yourself in the perfect position to lead a rescue party right into the heart of your oh so conveniently unguarded, oh so conveniently empty hive where a horde of your brethren are waiting to pounce on us!”

“You think I’m faking it?” Thorax demanded, hurt in his voice. “You think I fooled Spike?”

“I think good people are the easiest in the world to deceive, and some in Equestria are too good for their own best interests,” Cinder said.

“I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to!” Thorax yelled. “Do you know what it’s like to be a changeling? You have no idea! We’re always hungry! We can never get enough love! It’s like our stomachs are as big as this cavern, only there’s a hole at the bottom, and no matter how much we pour in, it all just drains out as quickly as it fills up. If I was trying to fake it, if I was trying to fool everypony, if I was around so much love and friendship for that long, then I would have drained them dry a long time ago. There’s no way I could have helped myself.”

“But you didn’t,” Starlight murmured.

Thorax took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “I… I haven’t felt hungry like that since I met Spike. Once I made friends, I stopped feeling the need to feed.”

Starlight’s eyes narrowed. “And is that the time your wings changed?”

“I guess so.”

“Hmm,” Starlight murmured. She turned her head to face Cinder. “I know that you’re on edge, I know that you want to rescue Sunset, but I trust Thorax, and so does Twilight. I was there when Spike convinced us all to accept him, and perhaps in your world, that would be a stupid thing to have done, and perhaps you think that we’re all just naive children who need to grow up and learn the way things really work, but in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not in your world right now; we’re in mine, and this is how we do things here!” She breathed in deeply. “On top of which, I’m feeling kind of tense and on edge right now, and it would be a big help if we could all work together instead of fighting and bickering!”

The words ‘fighting and bickering’ echoed off the cavern walls.

“Not to increase your tension or anything, but could you keep it down before any changelings hear us?” Trixie hissed.

“You say that, but I haven’t seen or heard a single changeling since we arrived,” Discord observed.

The sound of distant buzzing began to echo towards them from the direction in which they had just come.

“What's that?” Trixie moaned.

“A changeling patrol!” Thorax yelped, and he immediately began to hyper-ventilate, gasping for breath as Starlight rubbed his back in a manner that might have been reassuring had the situation been less urgent.

“You had to open your mouth, didn’t you?” Trixie snapped.

“This seems like one of those moments where we need a plan,” Discord murmured.

Cinder’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the chasm separating them from the other side of the chamber. Too great to be leapt, but perhaps…

“Thorax,” Cinder said, “catch them if need be.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry about this, Trixie,” Cinder went on as she picked up Trixie with both hands, raised her aloft and behind Cinder’s head, then threw her like a ball as hard as she could across the chasm.

Trixie shrieked in fright, her legs flailing wildly as she flew in a wide arc that carried her all the way across the cavern that divided the two outcroppings to land, with a thump and a bounce, on the other side.

Thorax, to his credit, didn’t need telling twice: he flew up, off the outcropping, hovering in the gap between the two.

And a good thing too, because Discord wasn’t so easy to throw; for all that Cinder tried by rolling him up like a doughnut ring before she tossed him, he began to unravel as soon as he was thrown, and Thorax had to grab him in mid-air to stop him falling.

Cinder could hear him complaining as Thorax awkwardly bore him across to the other side where Trixie waited.

“But what about you?” Starlight demanded.

“I’ll hold them off,” Cinder declared. “I’ll hold the whole hive off, if need be.”

“But without your strength, how are we supposed to destroy the throne?” Starlight cried.

Cinder picked her up, raising her so that they were at eye level. “Dare to do,” she said. “And tell Sunset… nothing. I’ll tell her myself; this will not be the end of me.” She had not endured so much, survived so much, only to meet her end here at the hooves of some jumped-up overgrown insects.

Starlight nodded. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Cinder grinned. “Good luck,” she said, before she drew back her arm and tossed Starlight, straight and true, across the cavern to rejoin the others.

“Now go!” Cinder yelled.

She watched them depart for a moment before she turned away.

Cinder paused for a moment, closing her eyes, letting her chest rise and fall with her breathing.

Her eyes snapped open, and she strode back through the archway.

The buzzing filled her ears, the sound flying up the corridor towards her, coming closer and closer until she could see those who made that buzzing: eight changelings, looking much like Thorax, save that they wore dark blue helmets on their heads and cuirasses about their bodies, and their wings were more insect-like than his and lacked a gleam.

Eight changelings, flying towards her.

Cinder grinned. “Hello, boys. Care to dance?”

They flew at her, heads bowed, pointing their horns towards her like knives, but they had neglected to form up before their charge: they were irregular in formation; they weren’t all going to reach her at the same time.

They came in such a way that Cinder could grab the first one, reaching out to pluck him from the air with a hand as fast as wind and hold him by the neck as she roared into his face loud enough to shake the hive around them.

Then she threw him at his comrades, knocking two of them out of the air as the first flailing changeling slammed into them, bringing them all to the ground in a tangle of legs. Cinder charged, teeth bared, wings spread out to make her seem even larger compared to these insects than she already was. They scattered before her, but not fast enough that her fist did not connect with the face of one of them and send him flying back into the darkness.

A changeling wrapped his legs around her arm, and another grabbed onto her back, wrapping her hooves around her neck, although thanks to her glittering ruby scales, she barely felt him squeezing her.

Cinder flung out arm, hammering the back of her arm – the one with the changeling wrapped around it – against the wall of the hive again and again and again until the wall of the hive was dented and cracked and the changeling dropped, limp and groaning, to the floor.

Which meant that Cinder was free to reach out behind her, pull the changeling off her back, and throw it down at her feet and stamp on it.

The changeling moaned as it lay on its side, curling up in a ball, hugging its gut.

The last two changelings fled, retreating back into the darkness out of whence they had emerged.

Cinder let them go. They would be back, no doubt, and in greater numbers – and every changeling who swarmed towards her would not be in position to stop Starlight, Discord, Trixie, and Thorax from destroying the throne and rescuing Sunset and the others.

“Is that all there is?” Cinder demanded, yelling, hearing her own voice echoed back at her off the walls. “Is that all the might of the changeling hive?”

Hear me, you changelings, hear me and come.

An idea struck her, an absurd and rather childish idea, but one that made her almost laugh with excitement.

Well, why not? One last time.

Cinder took a few steps forward, kicking a changeling out of the way who lay athwart her path, and started to sing.

“Open your eyes, you have to get up,

Monsters are coming to gobble you up.”

She was singing it a little louder than this song ought to be sung, but she was trying to draw attention to herself, after all.

“Out of bed, hide under the floor,

Monsters are breaking down the door.”

She could hear the buzzing now, the beating of changeling wings coming towards her from what seemed like every direction.

“You’ll hear the screams and then you’ll know,

Mommy and Daddy can’t help you now.”

And then they began to appear, swarming out of every hole in the walls, out of every nook and cranny, coming down from the ceiling and up the corridors, coming from all directions, blocking out all the light from the sickly green lanterns as they descended from above in great black waves.

And the buzzing of their wings was the sound of their fury.

“Close your eyes, don’t look up,

Here comes a monster to gobble you up.”

The changelings descended on her in a horde.

Cinder spread her arms out on either side of her. “Come on, then! Let’s see what the foes of Equestria are made of!”

They descended on her like a flood. Cinder stood her ground like a rock in the midst of the surging ocean, and she fought them all.

She was not made for power. She was not made for destiny. She was not made to mount the throne or receive the kneeling supplicancy of a host of kings and all their warriors; she was not made to be the hero, as in the Mistralian stories she had read by moonlight in her stepmother’s library.

But none of that mattered now. None of that mattered in these moments as the changelings descended upon her in their black and buzzing mass, because she was made to stand her ground, and in this moment, that was all that was required of her.

The changelings descended on her, and Cinder fought them all. Her clawed hands slashed to the right and left, her roars shook the shifting pillars of this labyrinth, her armour of obsidian and her ruby scales withstood their blows, her strength was greater than their resilience by far; they could not stand before her blows, before her might, before her fury so much greater than their own.

They had taken Sunset. They had separated them once again. They had made Cinder give serious thought to handcuffing the two of them together like the protagonists of a buddy movie because it seemed the only way that she could be sure of Sunset’s safety. They had taken Sunset, and if Cinder could not rescue her personally, then by the gods, by Seraphis and Tithys, by the Darkness and the Light, by the spirits of the sea and sky and household, by all the powers of heaven and hell, she’d make them rue the day they dared to do so.

The black mass swarmed around her, those green eyes gleaming in the darkness, but Cinder was black as well, a black knight armoured in obsidian, and these little monsters could not bring her down. She slashed. She kicked. She stamped upon them when they were down. She roared. She bit. She flailed wildly with the surety of striking something. When they sought to grab her from behind, she hurled herself bodily backwards into the wall, crushing them between her and the stone. They dragged her off the platform, falling down the stairs that she had ascended earlier, but she used the changelings to break her fall and then got up to face the rest.

They came on and on, and Cinder fought them on and on. She beat them down. She knocked them out. She made herself the nightmare of their misbegotten race, such that they would tell stories for a hundred years hence of the dragon who invaded their hive and laid waste to their strongest fighters, such that they would frighten changeling children to bed by warning that the dragon of black and red would get them if they tarried overlong.

Cinder fought them all, and as she fought, she laughed. She laughed because she was winning, despite their numbers. She laughed because she was winning. It was a sensation that she had thought might be lost to her, that she might be strong, be powerful, be fearless even in the face of peril.

In this place, in this world, she was Cinder Fall once more. They could not stand before her.

“Back off!” a harsh voice cried. “Back off! She’s mine.”

The changelings, those that remained, retreated, not even bothering to hover nearby, but retreating all the way that they had come, into their holes, down the corridors.

I have bought you time, Starlight. Use it wisely.

Only a single changeling remained. He was a little different from the others: his eyes were deep purple and so were his wings, and he had a red fin running down his neck like the crest of a helmet. His tiny tail was likewise crimson.

Cinder snorted. “Not very bold of you to wait until I’m tired by your minions to challenge me.”

His purple eyes narrowed. “Are you tired?”

“I could do this all day.”

The changeling smirked. “I’m glad to hear it.” His body was consumed by green flames as he transformed into some sort of giant insect, a six-legged creature of purple and black, with an arachnid five-eyed face, a stinging tail, and powerful, armoured-looking legs.

He shrieked and surged forwards towards Cinder, four wings beating violently, forelegs out to jab at her like immense lances.

Cinder stood her ground, waiting for her enemy to come to her, and as he approached, she grabbed his forelegs in both hands, and as the claws of her feet dug into the rock beneath, she pivoted, swinging her changeling opponent around in the air to hurl him at the wall.

The giant insect flew towards it, legs flailing, but at the last moment, the changeling transformed again in another burst of flame, changing back into himself, and in that smaller body rather than hitting the wall, he was able to kick off of it and shoot back towards Cinder. Only once he was flying towards her once again did he return to his insect form.

Cinder stepped back and drew back her fist. If throwing him wouldn’t work, then she’d see how many punches this thing could take.

The giant insect flew towards her once again. Cinder swung, but the changeling transformed once more so that her blow landed upon the empty air, and the changeling – in what Cinder could only assume to be their natural form – slammed into Cinder’s gut.

Cinder was knocked off balance. She hit the ground with a crash of her obsidian armour. The changeling hissed, triumphant, and for the third time assumed his insect form, bringing down one leg on Cinder’s face.

Cinder caught the leg and punched him in the face with her free hand as she had meant to do before once, twice; at the third blow, he transformed into a rock, which left Cinder’s hand smarting even as she batted it away.

It bounced twice upon the ground, but the changeling did not seem too affected by the blow, although he did have to shake his head twice as if to clear it.

Cinder leapt to her feet and charged towards him; if he was just going to keep transforming, then she would have to keep hold of him no matter what form he changed into.

She leapt on him, roaring. The changeling transformed into Twilight’s friend Applejack and turned to present his hind legs towards her, kicking Cinder across the chamber so hard that she made a dent in the wall that she struck, stone shards showering her.

There was a crack in her obsidian cuirass. Fragments of gleaming black glass began to trickle to the floor.

Cinder closed her eyes and bowed her head as she remained slumped on the ground, armour broken, showered with broken stone.

Let him think me weak. Let him think me done.

The changeling changed into a changeling and hissed triumphantly as he soared towards her.

Cinder restrained the smirk on her face as she got up at the last possible moment, spinning around to smack him with her tail hard enough to send him flying in turn.

He transformed into something new now, into a purple mole creature with great digging claws on the end of its paws.

He roared at her, spittle flying.

Cinder roared right back at him.

They charged, shaking the earth beneath them with their tread as they came together like two bulls meeting in the field, clashing their horns in the battle for mastery. They both struck out with their claws, against Cinder’s armour and her scales, against the thick hide of her opponent. For a few moments, each stood their ground, slashing at one another, striking at one another, blocking with their arms where they could, trading blow for blow. This creature, whatever he had become, was strong indeed; Cinder’s vambrace shattered beneath one blow, the helm was knocked from her head with another, the destruction of her cuirass was completed as her scales began to take the brunt of the impact, but she did not retreat. She would not retreat.

She had not fought this far, she had not felt as though she were regaining her prowess, only to retreat now, only to concede defeat to however worthy an opponent. She stood her ground, she took the blows, and she returned in kind every stroke he gave her and more.

And he retreated, shifting back into his changeling state to fly away from her.

Cinder took a breath. And then another.

“You’re tougher than I expected,” he admitted grudgingly.

Cinder laughed. “And you are a worthier foe than I had looked to find here. As one warrior to another, I tell you that my name is Cinder Fall; will you offer me your name in turn?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Pharynx,” he spat. “My name is Pharynx.”

Cinder recognised the name. “You lead the patrols.”

Pharynx nodded.

“Was it intentional that there was no one patrolling outside when we arrived?”

Pharynx smirked.

“I thought so,” Cinder muttered. “Thank you, Pharynx.”

Pharynx’s eyes narrowed. “For what?” he asked suspiciously.

Now it was Cinder’s turn to smirk, “Why, for this fight, obviously.”

Pharynx’s purple eyes gleamed. “You realise that you can’t win.”

“Oh, watch me,” Cinder said.

Pharynx rushed at her again, returning to that old familiar favourite of his insect form. He came forward, wings beating, and once more, Cinder made to strike him. Once more, he transformed into a changeling, but this time, Cinder caught him with her other hand.

“Disappointing of you to think the same trick would work twice!” Cinder snarled. She had him now, and so long as she held onto him, then victory would be hers. She just had to hold on.

Pharynx knew that as well as she did, because as she held on, he began changing into a multitude of different shapes in his efforts to get free. He turned into a snake and tried to wriggle free of Cinder’s grip, but she hung on. He turned into a swan and beat at her with his wings, but she hung on. He turned into a raging lion and slashed at Cinder with his claws, but she hung on. He became a fish, he became a bear, he became a frog, and through it all, Cinder hung on, because all she had to do was hang on and keep squeezing, and he would become too tired to continue.

There was the sound of an explosion somewhere up above, from near the top of the hive.

And as the explosion sounded, and as the hive itself seemed to shake, Cinder felt something within her. She felt the fire return within her breast, she felt her wings strengthen, she felt the flame in which she had rejoiced when she arrived in Equestria burn hot again.

Cinder laughed, and as she laughed, she blew a gust of flame out of her mouth, erupting upwards towards the ceiling, as hot as any Maiden’s fire had been.

They did it. Starlight and the rest, they did it!

There wasn’t a moment to lose. She had no time to spare for Pharynx now; she had no need to continue their conquest. She dropped him, and as she let him go, she leapt upwards, spreading her wings outwards as she leapt.

She blew flames downwards to try and push her up. It didn’t work too well, but it carried her sufficiently high that she was able to dig her claws into the walls of the hive and climb upwards, always upwards, ever upwards, upwards through a hive that now had ceased to move and change so that she need only keep climbing, and burst through the occasional floor, until she erupted out of the last floor and onto the top of the hive.

A top that had been blown off by some great force, exposing the platform to the open air.

The changelings were… changed. Instead of black, they were now vivid shades of green and blue, with sparkling gossamer wings and eyes of almond or purple and all trace of fangs gone from their mouths.

More importantly, ponies were picking their way out of shattered cocoons: Princess Twilight and her friends, Princess Celestia, and-

“Sunset!” Cinder yelled, running towards her as soon as she saw her. “Make room, out of the way! Sunset!”

Sunset looked at her. “Cinder?”

Cinder halted. “Is that a tone of surprise?”

“Well-”

“You were captured by changelings; did you honestly think that I wouldn’t come and rescue you?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“Do you honestly think so little of me that your rescue would not be my first-?”

“Cinder!” Sunset shouted. She smiled. “Thank you, for coming for me.”

Cinder swept Sunset up in her arms, and held her close. “I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

“I needed to give you the chance to be a hero by saving me,” Sunset said, wrapping her forelegs around Cinder’s neck. “Seriously, that’s my cutie mark; I enable other people to shine.”

Cinder looked at her. “That… okay, that makes a disturbing amount of sense. So what you’re saying is that this is going to become a regular occurrence. An even more regular occurrence than it already is.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“This is the second time in a row,” Cinder reminded her.

Sunset sighed. “Okay, it sort of is that bad. I’ll try and be more careful in future.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Cinder said. “Or you could just rely on me to save you.”

Sunset chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to put you out that way.” She smiled, but then her smile died. “Cinder?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened while I was out?”

Comments

[Mister Morden]

They had taken Sunset. They had separated them once again. They had made Cinder give serious thought to handcuffing the two of them together like the protagonists of a buddy movie because it seemed the only way that she could be sure of Sunset’s safety.

That made me chuckle more than it should have.

Also, Cinder is really good at inspirational speeches. Not so much with the plans...

But at least she is a good fighter! And her distraction let the others win!

[Spellflame]

They fit her in well

[Sugar Spoon]

How close is this fic to completion.

[Firefly_]

Considering this is equestria. I do hope Cardin survived. I have a soft spot for the jerks who get redeemed... looking at you cinder

[LIl]

11077448
Good Joke

[Mastermind4892]

She had never felt so naked in her life. Not even when she had stood before Salem had she felt so vulnerable. Such power at his command, and nothing she could do about it. No matter what she did, no matter what she thought, she was defenceless against this power. He could do whatever he liked to her, and she would have to endure it.

Yep! The appropriate reaction to standing before god-like power! I had so been looking forward to Cinder's reaction to Discord, how his power makes Salem's magic look like the work of a mere novice. Cinder never felt so wary or defenseless before!

It's very lucky she and Sunset won't ever have to deal with Cosmos. For those who don't know this character from the MLP comics, she's Discord's crazy yandere ex-girlfriend. More powerful than even Discord ever was, and her sadistic malice is truly frightening. "Why don't we turn the ponies into a pinata, and then find a big ax?"

She plummeted like a stone but managed to pull off the landing with knees bent and one fist touching the ground. It was a pity Sunset wasn’t around to see it.

Such a poser.

Alright, this was quite a chapter! However, I must confess it felt rather underwhelming. And while I know that the trip to Equestria is a brief interregnum, this chapter felt a bit rushed and very condensed in how it resolved the Changeling takeover. I wouldn't have minded if the crisis had split into two or three chapters to increase the drama and the epic. This entire story has often proven exemplary in that regard.

Other than that, I'm afraid there are one or two other lackluster elements. Most particularly that Sunset was also captured. I understand that the Equestrian events have to turn out the same as they did in the show. I also understand surprise and ambush can take down nearly anyone, even Princess Celestia and the entire Mane 6. But I was really hoping the Changeling crisis would give Sunset what is perhaps the only opportunity in this story to save Equestria. She'll be able to do that plenty of times for Remnant (and even guard the portal to Equestria), but should she not have at least one chance to do so for Equestria itself? To finally return a changed mare, the person she was always meant to be. To fight for home and family, a great climax of everything that her character has become. Of everything that she has learned, and actualizing who she is after finally understanding her special talent. Celestia and Twilight may have truly accepted her for the hero she finally is, but the chance to actually contribute to Equestria as such? To let them see it with their own eyes instead of simply hearing the story through a magic book? For Sunset Shimmer to finally do something good and worthwhile for all of Equestria, after the way she left it behind?

Once again, I know that the MLP show has to turn out the same, and this is where Starlight must be a hero and the Changelings are redeemed. But cannot Sunset play a part? This is a story where Pyrrha Nikkos is alive; alive and engaged to Jaune Arc. A story where Cinder Fall has been redeemed. And so many other significant changes. Why could this not be allowed to happen for Sunset? She may have become an alicorn here, but she also never got the chance to save Equestria itself in any of her movies. I'm very sorry, but it feels like a great loss of potential as a form of character arc resolution.

That being said, I still fully acknowledge and enjoyed the merits of this chapter. While still condensed, this still gave a great spotlight Cinder. Her reaction to Discord as I mentioned above is simply priceless! And of course, her absolutely fierce battle with the Changelings! Especially with Pharynx! Glorious! Even though Sunset herself didn't have the chance, Cinder certainly did and she went so far! Princess Celestia will have no doubt of her now!

[Scipio Smith]

11077583

I wouldn't have minded if the crisis had split into two or three chapters to increase the drama and the epic.

I must admit, my thinking there was that people wouldn't sit still for another sequence of chapters in which Sunset was captured, but that it might be more tolerable in a single concentrated dose.

[Lancerguy]

Cinder, Cinder, Cinder, are you slipping already? While the recovery was a nice entrapment, for she too can swim, the initial intel leak was on par with the king of Ba Sing Se. If she was put on guard, she should have immediately gone into dodge and evade mode, at least from a words perspective. We have seen her do it constantly before, so to be caught so flat-footed here, even when all the alarms rang out, again and again, seems out of character for her. Her being such a fish out of the water was also surprising. Yes, she had resources in Remennent, but not always. She managed to catch Salem's eye when fleeing with nothing and having to survive on her own wits. Is this not so different? I get best pony needs to shine, but for Cinder to be so at a loss threw me for one. She herself admitted that this felt like Mountain Glen, yet she could not respond in any way resembling someone who has orchestrated such a scheme not that long ago. She was blindsided, but this sheer lack of response dumbfounded me.

On the plus side, of which there is no shortage, I love Cinder's reactions with the other reformed villains. She has the perfect amount of forced trust and natural wariness from basically being where they are as well which was as much a delight to read as I was hoping it would turn out to be. Sunnykin's reaction to Cinder was also well handled. Overall, of all the "long chapters" this was one of the most pleasurable to read and felt much shorter than it was.

[Adser]

11077954
I think Cinder issue it's that while she is used to find ways to survive against anything the world throw at her, she also was used to dismiss any collateral during such plans. Now that she is part of the "good guys" she finds that she has to actively fight against her first reaction, since it is no longer acceptable, which is screwing her over. She has to fight AND defeat herself before she can even start dealing with the situation, and even then she is not sure if her decision is still acceptable.

You can see it here, she was non-lethal the entire run against actual invaders who dared to take Sunset from her, while during the Freeport arc she was a blender against the guards. It's hard to plan something on the fly when you need to keep everyone alive and your plan from A to N come with a mountain of corpses.

[Lancerguy]

11078474
I see your point here, but it should not be left out that Cinder, at heart, is a schemer. The side she serves does not matter, she is the planner. At Mountain Glenn, there were no casualties until the actual battle started. Cinder is ok with collateral, true, but only when it is required. She has demonstrated she can play the long game, with minimal to no bloodshed, when it serves her end goal. The fact that she seemed completely incapable of thinking beyond the immediate here is what threw me the most.

[Adser]

11078902
Uh, remember that "her side" during Mountain Glenn were the Grimm (which she used as disposable lures) and the WF (which she planned to get wiped out anyway). She can do long term planning, but she has always gone through pawns with frightening speed by design, since she had 0 faith in people and she preferred to make sure anyone she had dealings with wouldn't be in a good enough position to retaliate when she took everything they had.

Cinder has the same "take all, give nothing" personality that Salem has, with the only difference being that whenever Cinder has something she WANTS done she goes and do it herself. A mindset that doesn't work in her current situation for multiple reasons.

The only time her plans don't have dead bodies from her side is when they literally can't, either because she is going solo or because there isn't fighting at all. Do keep in mind that I am considering the Grimm she loves to throw around as part of "her side".

[Adser]

11078902
I did a quick count and wow is Cinder bad about keeping her allies alive:

The dust robberies caused a lot of attrition in the WF, between the arrests and Adam doing his best impersonation of a WH40K Commissar.
Her plan to get close to Pyrrha and see how she works sacrificed the Karkadann.
Her plan to get under Sunset skin and bring the worst of her to the surface sacrificed Bon Bon social life.
Her attack on the tower didn't sacrifice anyone because she was going solo.
During Mountain Glenn she first sacrificed some minor and even advanced Grimm forms to herd the team and during the Breach she sacrificed almost all of the WF and a good chunk of the Grimm in the place.
During Merlot she also didn't sacrifice anyone because she was going solo.
Her plans for the Vytal festival were derailed, but considering that she hated Sonata and got close to the WF AGAIN I don't think it would have ended nicely if she had been able to do her thing.
And her last plan was also a solo mission, where she was planning to die at Sunset hands.

Holly hell girl, being your ally is more lethal than being your enemy. If I was her I also wouldn't trust my ass in keeping anyone alive.

[Lancerguy]

11079322
I feel some of these are good points, others less so, but it strays away from my initial point. CInder is inherently a schemer, yet the moment red flags were raised with "Sunset" and "Celestia" she did not act. Instead, by playing along, she gave her enemy more ammunition to muddy the waters and make her doubt her instincts, something she has not done up until this point. What she should have done is play the ruse she demonstrated to Cardin from the start. It would have been more in character and fits her to a T.

[Adser]

11079702
Uh I don't really follow. She noticed something wrong with Celestia, but given how little she knows about her and how safe she thinks Equestria is there is no reason for her to act. Once she meets Sunset she becomes certain that something IS going wrong, so she immediately goes and looks for allies (Cardin) while acting as if she hadn't noticed anything to evade suspicion, which is the scheming thing to do.

Turning on Celestia was insane for a lot of reasons, and turning on Sunset was unnecessarily risky considering that she is in a bad position, unaware of exactly what happened. Demanding answer immediately once you notice something wrong, even when you are in a disadvantageous position, is something that Ruby would do, not Cinder. Cinder would smile, bring you to a obscure alleyway where her cronies are in wait and then spring the trap (so exactly what she did in the castle).

[Lancerguy]

11079817
Celestia, I will grant you, makes sense. Too many unknowns for Cinder to make a move, but not too many unknowns for her to be on edge. Sunset is another scenario. She is already thinking something is up, so that alone should have heightened her senses. Second, she did not immediately seek out Cardin but had a prolonged conversation with "Sunset" that because of the direction it took, could not confirm Cinder's growing suspicions. Cinder 1) asked questions she did not know the answer to (cutie mark) so could not gauge "Sunset's" response and/or 2) stated specific information in her questions that compromised state security and basically gave her opponent all the info they needed to craft a plausible response. She should have switched almost immediately to more general questions once she suspected something and then pull the ruse without fanfare or an audience, where she is more likely to get away with it. Throughout the entire ordeal, she is off her game to a level where she almost missed the opportunity to out the plot, which appears to be the only reason such an outlier exists.

[Mastermind4892]

11083184
Ah, right, the debriefing.