Chapter 13. James 4:3
Chapter 13
"When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures."—James 4:3
At the verdict, Tequila closed her eyes, lowered her head, and expelled a long breath. Scout let out a whoop, raised his boss's hoof and gleefully smacked it with his free one. Tequila looked up to give him a weary smile.
While this was going on, the judge just sat on her perch, looking rather stunned at the verdict herself. But she quickly recovered and went back into professional mode. "Defendant Discord, having been found guilty of the act of murder, I sentence you to be executed for the deaths of Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash in exactly thirty days from now." She brought down her gavel with a decisive bang.
"No!" The word sprang from Wisteria's lips and she clapped her hooves over them as the eyes of Tequila, Scout, the judge, and several jury members all turned toward her. Had she just blown her disguise? Had—?
"Are you out of your heads?!" Discord roared at the judge and jury. "Didn't you hear those witnesses admit to framing me?! Did you even watch those memories?!"
The jury's spokespony flinched at this but remained standing. "We saw three clearly terrified ponies being coerced into saying anything they thought you wanted to hear."
"And the changeling queen's confession?"
"Could easily have been faked by you since we never actually saw her."
Discord snorted in disgust. "Charming as it is to be viewed as having that much foresight, it pains me to admit you're giving me far too much credit."
"Enough!" roared the bailiff. "Guards, escort the defendant back to his cell!"
Discord braced his hands against the table, digging his claws into its surface, and looking ready to protest, when Regal Love leaned across Wisteria toward him.
"Go quietly with them, Discord," she whispered. "We'll join you soon."
"Do what she says." Wisteria added also in a whisper as he looked down at them. He barely had time to nod in acknowledgment before the guards were there, restraining him as they unfastened his chains from the table and chair.
Thirty days. Thirty. Days. The words played over and over again in Wisteria's mind as she and Regal Love hurried back to their room. She tried to focus on something more productive, on some sort of strategy, but all her brain seemed able to lock on was the fact that those thirty days might be all the time Discord had left to live. The judge had sounded so confident when declaring that death sentence that Wisteria had little doubt they'd discovered a way to successfully kill the draconequus.
"Seconds." Spike's soft whisper startled her out of these thoughts as she and Regal Love entered their room. "Falcon's here too."
"Regal and Wasp." Wisteria replied automatically, and Spike squirmed out from under the bed where he'd been hiding.
"What happened?" he asked, glancing between the two mares. "High got a lot of writing scribbled all over his stomach at one point, but he didn't let me read any of it."
Highflyer must have been in an especially sour mood, considering he hadn't bothered to emerge from his own hiding place.
Regal Love bowed her head wearily, prompting Wisteria to place a hoof on her friend's wither and murmur, "I'll explain." Considering how exhausted the trial had left Wisteria herself when she was mostly just an observer, she could only imagine how much it had taken out of Regal Love. The unicorn gave her a small grateful smile before moving to lie down on the bed. Shucking off her saddlebag and removing the familiar paper from it, Wisteria checked that the ponies at the TreeHAB were listening before she began explaining to both them and Spike what had happened during the trial.
She tried to keep the tears out of her voice, and succeeded at first. But as she got closer and closer to the final verdict, the tears began to break through until she finally choked out, "The judge said he's going to be executed in thirty days."
"It's not over just yet, darling," said Regal Love, crawling across the bed to put her head close to Wisteria's. "I-I'm sure we could appeal." However, there was no disguising the doubt in both her expression and voice.
"But what good would that do?" Wisteria whimpered, unable to keep the despair out of her own voice. "Discord's own memories were probably our strongest argument in his favor, and Tequila managed to use even those against him! Meanwhile the changelings can just keep spewing out lie after lie without ever getting caught—"
"That's It!" The two mares and the dragon all looked up to see Highflyer shoot out from under the bed, hook his front hooves around one of its posts, and whip his small body around to land in a crouch on the floor between Spike and Wisteria. "That's it." the wrestler seethed. "That's. Absolutely. It!"
"High—" The name froze on Wisteria's tongue as he aimed his glare at her, his sky-blue eyes glacial against the drab camouflage of his mask.
"You promised me you wouldn't let Ray's killers get away, Shy!" His voice was low but fierce. "You promised that!"
The accusation stung on far more levels than the wrestler likely realized because it forcefully reminded her of the promise she had whispered to an unconscious Discord at the hospital. They're not taking you, Discord. I swear, they're not taking you this time. Yet in thirty days they would take him away both from her and from life. And she was powerless to stop it! "I did what I could, High!" she sobbed, trying to convince herself as much as him. "We all did! We tried—"
"Fine!" Highflyer spat contemptuously. "If you're not going to do anything to take down Ray's killers, I will!"
He whirled away from her and bunched his small body up in a crouch. Then he was flying through the air, his front hooves reaching toward the ceiling vent...
Only for Regal Love's magic to surround him and yank him down to the floor.
"Get off!" he snarled, thrashing about, but she kept him anchored in place.
"Highflyer, wait just a—" she started to say as she pushed herself into a standing position on the bed. But at that moment the tiny stallion seized the nearby desk chair and hurled it at her. Eyes widening, she dodged away from the chair with a startled yelp, tumbling backward off the bed in the process, her movements sending Highflyer whirling up into the air. The chair smashed against the wall with enough force to shatter into pieces. The magic around Highflyer vanished, but he continued on his current trajectory, slamming into the upper section of a wall. However, he had maneuvered his body so that he struck that wall hooves first. Launching himself off it, he caught the edge of the ceiling vent, yanked it open and flipped himself up inside it.
Spike ran around the bed to check on Regal Love, and Wisteria was about to join them when fresh writing appeared on her paper.
Screwjob: "High, what are you doing?"
Highflyer: "Shove it, Jobber!"
Screwjob: "Then tell me what you're doing!"
When Highflyer's response appeared, it was so obscene the ink that had formed it promptly scribbled it out.
Screwjob: "Spike! Rarity! Fluttershy! Anypony over there! What's happening?!"
Wisteria snatched up the paper. "Highflyer just disappeared up into the ceiling vent after throwing a chair at Regal Love when she tried to stop him."
Screwjob: "Oh, he did, did he? High! You get your sawed-off tail back in that room this instant!"
Highflyer's response to this order was even more obscene than his last one and was scribbled out just as quickly.
Screwjob: "Twilight, you gotta send me over there."
If Twilight responded to this, the paper didn't record it. But as Wisteria scooped up the paper and hurried around the bed to join her friends, Spike suddenly turned away with a claw clamped over his mouth. Only when he was sure he wouldn't hit either of the mares did he let out a burst of green flames. A familiar paper blanket-wrapped bundle dropped out of it, landing with an uncharacteristic clatter. An instant later Screwjob rolled free of it. He hadn't bothered to change out of the camo top and pantaloons he had taken to wearing over his sleeveless black shirt and wrestling tights, but he had put Skywishes's commandeered armor on over them, which explained the clattering.
"No time to chat," he said, rolling to his hooves. "Just point me to wherever those three phony eye-witnesses are staying." Seeing the nonplussed expressions on Spike, Regal Love, and Wisteria's faces, he raised one front hoof and flapped it in a come-here gesture. "C'mon, c'mon, where are they staying?"
"Why do you—?" Regal Love started to ask.
"Because that's where High is headed, and I have to get to him before he does something he'll regret. So where are they staying?"
"We don't know," Regal Love admitted. "We only met them in designated interview rooms." She turned to the dragon. "What about you, Spike? You and Highflyer have been wandering around in the vents."
Spike looked uncomfortable. "We didn't stay together all the time. Sometimes we split up for a short while to check different vents. If High found out where they were staying, he never mentioned it. But then he hasn't said much of anything since we got here." he added under his breath.
Screwjob's eyes narrowed. "Hmm. So none of us know what room he's headed—Yipe!"
The unplanned Yipe! was the result of an off-white blur first colliding with his tail at hock-level, then shooting between both his back and front legs, accidentally or intentionally dragging his long black tail with it. The blur zipped out from under his chest, and shot straight toward Wisteria who flung her front hooves up reflexively.
"Max!" she gasped as the ragged, stained, but nonetheless energetic paper wings wrapped around her hooves.
"He must have hitched a ride when Twilight sent me." Screwjob muttered, shaking out his disturbed tail.
On a sudden hunch based off previous experiences, Wisteria gave Mache Max a quick nuzzle before drawing him back to get a clear look at him. "Max, could you track that moth tattoo in Highflyer's chest?"
The parrot paused in his soft nibbling of her hooves to look up, let out a thoughtful "Haaaaa," then bobbed both heads wildly up and down.
"Good, because we need you to guide us to Highflyer without getting caught. Can you do that, please?"
Mache Max let out an enthusiastic "Ah!" He seized Wisteria's suit sleeve in both beaks and began tugging wildly.
"'We'?" Screwjob cocked a thick eyebrow at her from under the commandeered helmet.
"We're going with you," said Wisteria, then turned to the other two. "I mean, I think we should, since Spike's the only one who can send anypony back to the TreeHAB, and Regal Love and I could provide a distraction or excuse if we get spotted. Though ... Spike, you'd better try to stay out of sight."
"Naturally," said the dragon, moving so that he was now effectively hidden behind Regal Love. The implication was clear: If he could hide behind her, the smallest of the current three ponies, he could hide behind any of them.
"I'm convinced," said Screwjob, rolling up the paper blanket, and slinging it over his back. "Let's go."
"Wait," said Regal Love. "One of us should go to Discord. So he can know what's going on."
Wisteria turned to her, feeling suddenly torn. Of course she wanted to go to Discord, but Mache Max never listened to any of the other ponies as well as he did to her. However, before she could give these two choices much consideration, Regal Love added, "I'll go. It won't look suspicious if just his lawyer goes to talk with him, but it will be if just her assistant does."
Due to his being hobbled, and the guards keeping the chains attached to his collar pulled tight every step of the way, Discord's journey back to his cell was taking much longer than Regal Love and Wisteria's trip to their room, and it gave him plenty of time to think back on the trial.
Deep down he'd known the guilty conviction was always a possibility given how many of the ponies in that courtroom might have secretly been changelings. But the speed with which that "possibility" had been declared "fact" had been so swift it left him feeling rather whiplashed.
Much to his own surprise though, he felt no anger toward his lawyer for failing to acquit him. Rather he felt that he had failed her.
His outburst in the courtroom had been more to draw attention away from Wisteria's slip-up than anything else. But now he found himself thinking on the spokespony's answers to his questions.
Why hadn't he made sure those changelings had completely dropped their pony disguises when he interrogated them? Why hadn't it occurred to him to light that cave up like a stage when tricking Chrysalis into a confession?
And why, oh, why had he ejected Total Recall so forcefully from his memory?!
You know why. You didn't want Fluttershy to learn in that setting why you left her. Didn't want to disappoint her with how quickly and easily you threw her friendship away.
And in doing so had provided Tequila Mockingbird with the perfect opportunity to plant doubts about his character, which of course the lawyer, or the changeling posing as her, had promptly pounced on—
"Officers!" His ears came up and he turned his head enough to see Regal Love galloping toward him and his group of guards. "Officers, I really must speak to my client!"
"Stay back, Ms. Love!" a guard ordered as she neared them.
"But I must speak with him!" Regal Love insisted, sounding notably agitated.
"I said stay back!"
"Oh, very well, very well." She closed her eyes and made a visible effort to compose herself. Opening her eyes, she faced the guards once again, this time taking care to act more dignified. "But it is urgent that I speak with my client. I insist upon accompanying you to his cell, and being allowed to converse with him privately once there." Then as a form of concession, she reminded them, "Once he's in his cell, the alarm will go off if either of us so much as brushes up against the cell walls."
This seemed to mollify the guards and they permitted her to accompany them albeit at a safe distance.
Before Regal Love had split off from the rest of the group, they had briefly debated who should have possession of their communication letter before deciding on Spike. Their reasoning had been that once Regal Love reached Discord, she would be able to communicate with them and the TreeHAB via the rest of Discord's tattoos; whereas based on his recent behavior, Highflyer would likely be much less cooperative. Plus, with Spike carrying the letter, it would be much easier for him to alert Twilight if he had to send something or somepony through to her, so she wouldn't be examining Derpy or in some similar awkward position when the delivery appeared in front of her.
With Screwjob toting the rolled-up blanket, this left Wisteria leading the way just behind Mache Max.
This was a mistake! Wisteria mentally fretted as her small group ducked behind a column, narrowly avoiding a set of patrolling guards. We should have tried to follow Highflyer through the vent systems!
But even as one part of her brain argued in favor of this, the other supplied a counter argument. Highflyer might have been small enough to maneuver through the vents with relative ease, but if they had tried to follow his route, they might run into an area where Screwjob would get stuck, forcing the group to backtrack and lose valuable time. As stallions went, Screwjob might not have a particularly bulky build, but he was still much taller than she was, and far bigger in the shoulders even without the added armor. If navigating through the ceiling had been a tight squeeze for her, it would be even worse for him. Of course, just sending him back to the TreeHAB was out of the question, given how adamant he had been about being the one who needed to reach Highflyer.
Peeking around the column, she first looked up to see Mache Max perched upside down on the ceiling further down the hallway, bobbing both heads about as he waited for them to join him. Then she looked back down to where the guards were marching by, and silently tried to will them into moving just a little quicker.
Just as the guards moved out of her line of sight, she felt a jolt of fear as something pressed against her haunches. Biting back a scream, she whipped her head around to see—
"They gone?" Screwjob whispered, leaning to the side as he tried to peer around her, and causing one of his big shoulders to inadvertently press even further into her hindquarters. Wisteria couldn't decide if she felt more annoyed at his frightening her, or relieved that it hadn't been an enemy. But then it dawned on her that he didn't even seem to have noticed he'd scared her. He was completely focused on their surroundings, and she could almost smell the tension radiating off him like never before. He didn't even seem this worried when we left my cottage to collect my friends—
"Guys," Spike whispered, catching both ponies' attention as he held up the letter to reveal fresh writing that had just appeared on it.
Highflyer: "Open up!"
The rest of the words appeared as a series of nonsensical symbols, apparently too off-color to be transcribed.
Screwjob sighed. "We gotta hurry before he gets himself killed. Or worse."
"Worse?" Wisteria repeated, but Screwjob's response as he looked past her again was equally cryptic.
"I might be a heel, but I have nothing on Highflyer when it comes to inflicting pain."
"Open! Up!" Highflyer shouted, not caring what attention he might attract in the process. As soon as he'd made sure the coast was clear, he'd dropped down from the ceiling to land right in front of the room he knew was housing the three witnesses. Now he beat both front hooves against the door, bellowing at the occupants inside. "You wanted me! Come out and get me!"
He heard the faint rustle of movement from inside the room, and dropped low to the floor. Sidestepping away from the door, he pressed himself against the adjacent wall as bolts of magic shot through the door. But as soon as those bolts of magic stopped, he reached through one of the holes they'd left in the door, and tripped the lock. Knowing he probably had only seconds before the changelings recharged their magic, he simultaneously shoved the door open and swung into the room.
Slamming right into Mr. Cake in the process.
Wrapping his back legs around the bigger stallion's neck, he released the door and brought his small body forward as if performing a sit-up. Mr. Cake's head snapped back as Highflyer struck him with an uppercut to the jaw. However, before the wrestler could follow it up with a blow to the now-exposed throat, he felt a sharp tug on the back of his bulky vest. Releasing his back legs from around Mr. Cake's neck, he managed to deliver a sweeping kick that glanced off said neck as he was jerked away.
A pair of blue forelegs wrapped around him from behind, clearly intending to pin his own forelegs to his sides. However, unbeknownst to his attacker, this brought his hooves down near the belt under his vest. The belt where he'd stashed the butterfly knives he'd borrowed from Skywishes and had yet to return. Grabbing one of the knives, he flipped it open in a blur of motion and thrust the blade behind him. He felt it strike flesh and twisted it viciously. He heard a female shriek of pain and the forelimbs pinning him loosened enough for him to twist free, yanking the knife out with him.
The next moment he was seized by the wings and hoisted by them up into the air. Clamping the butterfly knife in his teeth to free up his front hooves, he rolled one wing around in its socket, forcing the wing itself to rotate until it twisted out of its captor's grip. Swinging around, he brought his front hooves up to grasp the one still holding his remaining wing, and repeated the same painful rotation until that wing came free as well. Above him, Haystings tried to throw him against the wall, but the wrestler used the momentum to swing himself up and around to land on the bigger stallion's back. He spat the knife back into one hoof and brought it around next to Haystings's throat.
Haystings's exclamation as the tip of the knife poked into a fold of soft flesh under his jaw brought Mr. Cake up short and the fight to a sudden halt. All were panting from the brief but intense fight, though Mrs. Cake's were tinged with sobs as she pressed her hooves over the bloody wound on her side. Highflyer's panting was through gritted teeth as he surveyed his opponents. Taking the lull in combat for what it was, he leaned his head down to Haystings's ear while keeping his eyes on Mr. Cake.
"I'm gonna make this real simple." he rasped. "Start spilling the truth about whoever else around here is a changeling, and maybe I won't send you fakers to join the three ponies you're posing as."
"They're not dead!"
This startled Highflyer, and Haystings used it to strike the knife away. He almost succeeded in knocking it out of Highflyer's grip, but the masked stallion swiftly recovered, managing to hold on to both the knife and his opponent, and poking his neck again in the process. "Nice try."
By the time they reached his cell, Discord was practically dancing with impatience. Despite being hobbled, he almost leaped into his cell the instant the chains on his collar were unfastened, not even giving the guards a chance to uncuff him. Then there was the added aggravation of having to wait while his lawyer shooed the guards from the room and cast the familiar spell to keep them from being overheard.
"Where's Wisteria?" he demanded the instant they were alone.
"One minute. I need to contact the others through your tattoos."
Since his hands were still cuffed behind him, he quickly turned around with a frustrated growl and brought his forearms close to the bars.
"I'm with Discord, now," Regal Love said to his forearms and he felt the barbed tattoo there twist itself into the words. The next moment he felt his dragon tattoo slithering about on his upper back before wildly tracing its claws over the lower back. While he couldn't currently stretch, contract, or detach parts of his anatomy, his long serpentine neck and body still allowed him to contort himself in ways ponies could not. Now he bent his long neck back until he was looking at the arms cuffed behind him from an upside down position.
Regal Love raised an eyebrow at this. "Can you read upside down?"
"Upside down, downside up, forward, backward, up-and-down, left-to-right, right-to-left, and diagonally. I can even start in the middle—" his eyes closed on the last word, "—and blast both ways." His eyes popped open and his pupils snapped away from each other like opposing magnets before directing themselves once again toward his upside-down eyebrows. Then he used his cuffed hands to hike his rivet-covered jacket up as high as it would go so they could both see what the dragon tattoo had drawn on his back. It appeared to be a rather detailed map of Canterlot. While they watched, two moth tattoos swooped in and began moving over the map. The design on the wings of one moth morphed into the images of butterflies while the design on the other turned into falcons. The falcon-patterned moth fluttered in place over one room, while the butterfly-patterned one began making its way slowly but steadily over the map toward its partner.
Wisteria, Spike, and Screwjob hurried through the empty hall to join Mache Max in front of a door with several holes blown in it. Peeking cautiously through one of the holes, Wisteria's eyes widened in shock.
It seemed that any object in the room that could have been smashed had been, and most of the wreckage was blood-smeared. She spotted the Cakes lying battered and bruised amidst the wreckage, apparently unconscious, while Highflyer held Haystings down a short distance away.
"You got one more chance, punk." the masked wrestler snarled. "What's it gonna be?"
Suddenly blue-green flames surrounded the downed pegasus and when they cleared, a battered bloodied Rainbow Dash lay in his place.
"You never change, do you, High?!" the changeling spat in Rainbow Dash's voice. "You might act like you're some kind of hero in the ring, but under that mask you're just the same spiteful, vindictive little bully you've always been!"
"All right! That's enough!" Tossing the paper blanket on the floor, Screwjob flung the door open. Striding forward, he reared back on his hind legs, yanked off his helmet and slammed his forehead down into the Rainbow Dash-changeling's face. As the disguised changeling's eyes rolled back and it collapsed, Screwjob spun around and slammed one back hoof into Highflyer's chest, knocking him to the floor. Turning the spin into a full circle and staying up on his hind legs, Screwjob came around and brought his head down a second time to grab the top of Highflyer's mask in his teeth.
"Hey!" Highflyer protested as Screwjob's front hooves came forward to fumble at the mask's straps. He raised his own hooves to knock the bigger ones away, but Screwjob had already managed to loosen the straps and jerked the mask forward with a snap of his head. Highflyer's ears briefly disappeared inside the mask's earholes before springing back up as the bottom edge of the mask cleared them.
"High. Senburg." Screwjob gritted through his teeth before releasing his grip on the mask, and shoving the smaller wrestler down onto his back once again.
"Jobs?" said Highflyer, maneuvering his mask back into position and straightening the eyeholes to focus on the stallion before him.
"Correct-o." The tall wrestler settled the helmet back on his head and cut his eyes around the room. "That your blood, theirs, or both?"
"Theirs." said Highflyer, sounding rather dazed as he recinched his mask's straps. "Turns out changelings bleed red. Who knew."
Screwjob humphed softly before looking around until his eyes landed on the small dragon who, along with Wisteria, had come up next to him. "Spike, I think we're going to have to take these three—" He waved a hoof toward the downed and bloodied Cakes and Rainbow Dash. "—back with us. We can't leave them here to possibly blab about seeing High, or maybe spin up some sort of lie to make Discord look even worse than he already does." He looked back down at Highflyer. "Munchkin, you're lucky nopony apart from us showed up to—"
He was interrupted by a sharp gasp from Wisteria, and whirled around to see what she was looking at.
Peering in at them through the half-opened door was a brown-and-white face, with its oddly predatory yellow eyes almost bugging out of its head.
"Scout..." Wisteria breathed and the face promptly ducked out of sight.
"Wait, Scout!" Wisteria shouted, sprinting toward the door. "I can explain—!" Admittedly she had absolutely no idea exactly how she would explain, but she had to stop him before he—
"BOSS!" If she hadn't just heard it, Wisteria would not have guessed that gruff voice could hit such carrying decibels. But while her brain and ears were still adjusting to this information, she was suddenly knocked aside as Screwjob barreled past her and slammed into the broken door, smashing a large chunk out of it in the process. Wisteria stumbled, steadied, and raced out after him. Ahead of her, she saw Scout tearing down the hall, shouting all the time for his boss. But Screwjob was right behind him, and thanks to the taller stallion's longer legs he was rapidly closing the distance.
"Boss! Boss! Oof!"
Screwjob had just lunged forward and taken Scout down in a flying tackle. He rolled the smaller stallion up in a submission hold, with one hoof clamped over the pinto's mouth.
But it was already too late.
With Scout silenced, Wisteria now heard shouts and the pounding of hooves heading their way.
Spike was just retrieving the paper blanket from the hallway when Wisteria came galloping up and skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Wasp." she puffed to confirm her identity before plunging on. "Spike, we need you to send us all back to the TreeHAB, then find a place to hide. Twilight can send us back later, and we can figure out what to do with those changelings then too."
They retreated into the wrecked room and looked about for a possible hiding place. There didn't seem to be any ceiling vents into the room, which was probably why Highflyer had dropped down outside of it rather than inside.
"How about there?" Spike ran to a vent down near the floor, and loosened its grate with his claws. It would be a scramble to get in there and get the grate back in position before the group headed their way arrived to examine the room, but it was the only option they currently had.
"Highsenburg! Room for one more!" Screwjob announced as he reappeared in the doorway, hauling a struggling Scout with him.
As they watched the tattoos move about on his back map, Regal Love quickly filled Discord in on what had happened. Just as the butterfly-patterned moth reached the falcon-patterned one, another moth tattoo zipped in above the map and morphed into the words: Highflyer: "You got one more chance, punk. What's it gonna be?"
This was followed soon after by "Hey!", "Jobs?", and "Theirs. Turns out changelings bleed red. Who knew." all spoken by Highflyer. However, the lack of anyone else's dialogue made it difficult to guess what had prompted these quotes.
Then the words were suddenly replaced with fresh ones.
Spike: "Twilight, I'm sending you three ponies and four hostages."
Twilight: "Hostages?"
Spike: "No time to explain now. Just be ready for them, because here they come."
Suddenly both the falcon-patterned and butterfly-patterned moths disappeared from the map in a burst of inky flames.
"Spike must have sent them back to the TreeHAB—" Regal Love started to say, when fresh words suddenly appeared."
Twilight: "Spike?! What are you doing here?!"
"Twilight?" Regal Love asked. "What's going on?"
No reply.
"Twilight, what's happening?" she repeated, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.
For several agonizingly long seconds there was silence. Then a response.
Twilight: "Uh, Rarity, Spike sent Fluttershy, Highflyer, Screwjob, Mache Max, and four ... hostages here to the TreeHAB. ... But he came through too. He's right here beside me in the TreeHAB now!"
"What?! How?!"
Spike: "I didn't have much room to stand back when I flamed onto that blanket and fire splashed back over me. I knew it'd likely ruin my camo, but I thought I could risk it since I'm fireproof. I didn't realize it would actually send me to Twilight along with everypony else!"
Regal Love raised her eyes to meet Discord's. He had been given thirty days to live, and with Spike now stuck at the TreeHAB, the group there would be unable to send any form of help.
Then just as she was thinking it couldn't get any worse, it did.
"Darling," she murmured faintly toward Discord's forearm. "I only have two weeks-worth of disguise potion here."
Two weeks?! Wisteria felt as if she were strangling. Just moments ago, thirty days had seemed like such a short time and now they didn't even have half that! How could Twilight possibly concoct a successful potion in that time? And what good would it even do if they were all snowed in here at the TreeHAB with their only mode of transportation gone?
In a despairing haze, her eyes roamed around the TreeHAB, taking in Spike and Twilight huddled together over the communication letter; Amethyst and Dinky near their mother's bed; Bonfire on the outskirts of everything, observing all from her bubble; Skywishes automatically batting Mache Max away from her mane with a wing, as—armed with a hammer—she stood guard over the unconscious disguised changelings; and Scout writhing a short distance from them, having been gagged and blindfolded with his own power tie courtesy of Screwjob, and hogtied courtesy of Applejack. Finally her gaze settled on Highflyer, who had been strangely out of it ever since they had tracked him down at that trashed room.
None of this would have happened if he hadn't gone tearing off like that!
Before she even realized what she was doing, Wisteria drew back one forehoof and struck Highflyer right across his masked face. Whether the blow left any visible imprint behind was impossible to tell through the mask, but Wisteria didn't care. She was about to follow it up with another blow, only to find her hoof halted. She whipped her head around to see Screwjob with her hoof trapped in his own, his expression clearly saying: Don't try it. She tried to jerk free, only for him to give her hoof a short but sharp twist that made her wince.
"Well, High?" he asked, his voice mocking as his eyes darted between her and his fellow wrestler. "You gonna let me get away with that? Protecting you from somepony you could easily toss around like a ragdoll!"
With a surprisingly deep growl for such a small pony, Highflyer shot toward Screwjob, who promptly slung Wisteria away from them.
"Ladies, stay back! I got this!" he shouted as Highflyer collided with him. He swung the smaller stallion around, maneuvering the both of them away from the rest of the group, and the two wrestlers began grappling with a ferocity Wisteria had never seen before. Screwjob had tossed the armor's helmet aside shortly after they had emerged from under the blanket, but still had on the rest of the commandeered armor. Though whether that would prove a help or hindrance in the current situation Wisteria couldn't be sure. Still it was probably wise to heed his words.
"Well, this certainly complicates things." Skywishes said resignedly. She gave the unconscious disguised changelings a cautious prod with her hammer. "I suppose we'll have to patch these three up and give them the Bonfire treatment." She raised her head toward where Bonfire watched them from within her bubble. "At least until we can figure out what else to do with them."
That was how the group had ended up tending to their new set of captives. First they moved the unconscious Cakes, the unconscious Rainbow Dash, and the very-conscious-but-gagged-bound-and-blindfolded Scout to a more secluded area of the TreeHAB in hopes it would delay the captives from identifying their new location.
Twilight secured Scout in a bubble but didn't remove any of his additional bonds. While Scout had not used any magic nor given any other indicator that he might be a changeling, there was something suspiciously convenient about him showing up when he did back at Canterlot, and the group couldn't shake the idea that he might currently be playing the role of a fellow pony in hopes of tricking them into releasing him. Amethyst kept an eye on him—Dinky having opted to go prepare supper—while Spike and Twilight stood guard as the remaining three mares bandaged the injured changelings' wounds.
Applejack and Wisteria tended to the Cakes; while Skywishes looked after Rainbow Dash since the idea of patching up one who looked so much like their deceased friend but was far from it proved too painful for Applejack and Wisteria.
As Wisteria put pressure on one of Mrs. Cake's cuts, her thoughts went to the masked wrestler who had inflicted them. He had been so devastated back at the gym when he had ended up bruising Scootaloo's ribs ... but now in short succession, he had thrown a chair at Regal Love hard enough for it to shatter into pieces, cursed out his best friend, and recklessly gone after three changelings. It also hadn't escaped her notice that he seemed to have known precisely where to beat, cut, and bite the three changelings so that the injuries would be painful but not necessarily lethal. It disturbed her to think how he might have learned that. Just as it had when he had given Dinky those knife-handling pointers with the air of an experienced veteran—
"Don't rinse those rags out just yet." said Twilight, just as Wisteria moved some bloodied rags to do so. "I might be able to use the blood on them."
As the group gave her questioning looks, she continued, "A year ago when I was first trying to make a potion to see through changeling disguises, I found a unique forensic spell used on blood samples that separates magical contaminants and allows the caster to identify the original, underlying DNA. It's a much more complex spell then normal DNA identification spells, so the constabulary rarely have need for it, but it's something I always felt could be useful in identifying changelings." She gestured toward the three unconscious captives. "If we ran the usual DNA tests on these three right now, I'm certain it would identify them as the Cakes and Rainbow Dash. That's also why my changeling reveal spells have been fizzling. The changelings' innate shapeshifting magic obscures their true nature more heavily than I've been able to account for. Now that we have these three, I can run the extraction spell properly, prove what they are, and I think I can use what the spell would consider 'contaminant' to fix my original reveal spell to where it can see changelings for what they really are."
Applejack stared at her incredulously. "You've had a way to identify changelings all this time?!" she whisper-shouted. "Why didn't you say anything?!"
Wisteria was privately thinking the same thing.
"I never had any viable changelings that I could run the experiments on," said Twilight. "Also, the spell takes about an hour or two to work and you need a good bit of blood for it." She lifted one of the bloodied rags with her magic. "Something like this. Just pricking somepony to get a drop or two wouldn't be enough."
Skywishes flicked a speculative glance toward the still-unconscious captives then toward the squirming Scout. "I suppose hacking away at random ponies to collect enough of their blood to examine would be more risk than reward for everypony involved," she observed dryly.
Twilight nodded. "Since the changeling corpses I examined before were both burnt to a crisp and not in disguise, there was nothing for the spell to work with. But now..." She looked toward the bloody rags again. "Now it looks like we might have some unexpected resources we didn't before." She looked up to meet Wisteria's eyes. "Ones that might give me a better chance of finding our missing ingredient."
Wisteria was terrified to hope. Even if Twilight did find the ingredient, there was still the problem of them being stuck at the TreeHAB.
Break it into workable chunks. she could almost hear Skywishes advising in her head. Give Twilight a chance to come up with a successful potion. Then figure out a way to leave the TreeHAB.
She forced herself to nod and give her friend an encouraging smile. "You're right, Twilight. Of course you should—"
She was suddenly distracted by a groan nearby and a series of clicks further away. The groan came from the Mrs. Cake-changeling, who was stirring; while the clicking had come from Bonfire. The little mystery creature had limped her bubble over to the one that now encased Scout, and seemed to be examining it as best she could, letting out more of those clicks Wisteria had come to think of as her inquisitive signal.
It was a sound the ponies at the TreeHAB had gotten used to hearing on-and-off and generally only prompted them to look around to see what had captured Bonfire's attention.
But that was not the reaction it drew from the Mrs. Cake-changeling. Her head suddenly snapped up at the sound, her expression shocked. Then as her eyes landed on the source of the clicking, her expression promptly twisted into revulsion. "You?!"
Bonfire flinched at the sharp accusatory tone. Spinning around in its direction, she hissed and spat a burst of flames from her mouth. But the next moment light flashed from the Mrs. Cake-changeling's forehead. It surrounded Bonfire inside her imprisoning bubble, and swung her up into the air only to slam her head savagely against the floor. Bonfire squealed with pain before she was lifted and slammed down headfirst once again. And again. And again.
For a terrible second, Wisteria could only stare in shock. Then she was up and racing toward Bonfire, hoping to somehow cushion the little one from further harm.
Suddenly there was a loud crack! and the light surrounding Bonfire vanished as she fell brokenly to the floor.
Casting a quick glance back at the Mrs. Cake-changeling, Wisteria saw Amethyst standing over the now-again-unconscious captive, with the combat helmet she'd taken to wearing clutched in her front hooves.
"Yeah, hurts, doesn't it?" Amethyst muttered, stepping back and settling the helmet back into place on her head. Twilight quickly conjured magical bonds to bind the three unconscious changelings and encased them in bubbles before any more damage could be done.
Wisteria turned back to Bonfire to see that Skywishes was now there as well. The coral-colored pegasus was using her wings to gently caress the unresponsive little one through the bubble and Wisteria enviously wished for her own wings back so that she might do the same.
"Looks like she's still alive but she's bleeding from the back of her skull." Skywishes reported. "We're going to have to put pressure on that."
"I'll do it." said Wisteria, snatching up some clean folded cloth. Together the two pegasi worked over the small crumpled figure while the rest of the group divided their attention between them and the hostages.
"Seemed like a bit of an overreaction from that changeling." Skywishes commented as they swapped the now-bloody cloth for a fresh one.
"I know." Wisteria mused half to herself. Why'd the changeling do that? She seemed startled by Bonfire, but this... She suppressed a shudder, remembering the sight of Bonfire's head striking the wood. Those blows were intended to kill. But why—?
Suddenly her memory of Bonfire being attacked was replaced with another memory of the little one. Or at least of somepony who looked absolutely identical to her.
"Twilight," she called to the alicorn. "There's something I need to tell you about Bonfire. Something I found out at the tri—"
"Buzz off." Skywishes interrupted, fanning her wings out to shield Bonfire's body as Mache Max swooped in, apparently aiming for it. He whirled away, now emitting a particularly obnoxious buzzing as he came to a stop in front of Wisteria. A roll of paper unfurled from one of his beaks, revealing itself to be the communication letter.
"And something I need to tell Discord, too." Wisteria added softly.
Since Regal Love and Discord had not gotten any comments from the TreeHAB for several minutes except Highflyer's occasional grunts and growls, Discord began the slow process of wriggling more and more of his long body up above his cuffed-together wrists. Once he got his legs and tail above the cuffs, it would allow him to hold his cuffed hands in front of him. While the contorted pose he'd held earlier was not as uncomfortable for him as it would be for the average pony, he'd been getting bored of it and wanted more options.
However that was forgotten the instant he brought his cuffed wrists up in front of him, and fresh words appeared on his forearm.
Fluttershy: "Discord? Rarity? You both there?"
"We are indeed." he confirmed. "What's happening?"
Fluttershy: "Well, first, Rarity, Skywishes said to let us know the minute you're with Discord and the minute you have to leave him so we know if it's safe to message the two of you. Also she said to see if you can take the disguise potion only when you have to meet with other ponies, so you can possibly stretch it out past the usual two weeks."
"Understood, darling. But was that all?"
Fluttershy: "No, I also need to talk with Discord about seeing Bonfire in his memory."
Discord blinked. "Seeing who in where now?"
Fluttershy proceeded to describe what she'd seen in his memories of Foal Mountain during the trial, how she and Regal Love had both noticed a creature that looked identical to Bonfire suspended in a column of light.
For several long seconds, the draconequus stared at the words. Then he squeezed his eyes tight shut, and Regal Love wondered if he was privately replaying the memory to check it. When his eyes finally opened, he looked flabbergasted.
"How have I managed to miss that all this time?" he murmured as if to himself, then noticed Regal Love studying him. Giving himself a quick little shake, he looked back down at his forearms, his tone suddenly brisk. "Well, dear—if that is indeed Bonfire—I must say, while you certainly made her sound fascinating in your descriptions ... they don't even begin to do her justice.
"Though after giving it a microsecond of consideration, I can now explain how I didn't notice her."
Fluttershy: "You can? How?"
The draconequus smirked. "Just the fact that I was busy worrying about your well-being at the time I was recording the memory." He chuckled lowly. "What can I say? You sort of ... distract me, darling."
Wisteria blushed at his words, glanced away from them toward where Skywishes was still putting pressure on Bonfire's head wound, then back at the words, wondering if her former partner meant them to be joking or sincere.
At that moment she was startled away from these thoughts as Highflyer and Screwjob crashed to the floor just a few yards from the group. Highflyer seemed to be digging his hooves into the bigger wrestler's throat, but Screwjob suddenly brought one of his long hind legs up around and thumped its hoof wildly against Highflyer's foreleg in an unmistakable tap-out signal. Highflyer immediately released Screwjob and backed away as the tall stallion sat up.
"Well," Screwjob panted, fumbling to remove the armor he still wore. "It's been a while since either of us have managed to work up this much of a sweat."
He wasn't kidding. Both wrestlers had foamy lather streaming down their shoulders, and as Screwjob dropped the armor to the side, Wisteria noticed with alarm that the foam plastered to his neck was distinctly pink.
"You're bleeding!"
"Hmm?" Screwjob felt around on his neck and face until he discovered the culprit: a fresh cut hidden by his forelock. "That's not bad." he said dismissively.
Applejack snorted. "Not bad, it's pouring down your neck!"
"Hey, head wounds bleed a lot. And in my case, it's just one side effect of having an incredibly thick skull."
Applejack's expression looked resigned. "Should I ask?"
"Honey, my head wounds never merely bleed. They gush. Just ask High. He's seen them up close enough times to—"
At that moment there was a loud rip of Velcro separating. The group looked up in time to see Highflyer, back to them, wrench off his mask and fling it across the room.
"High, what are you doing?" Screwjob sounded mildly exasperated, and pointed in the direction of the mask. "Put that back on! You're—"
"I can't wear that mask anymore!" Highflyer snapped, head down and back still turned.
"Oh, fair enough." Screwjob acknowledged, prying his own lather-soaked shirt away from his body. "Considering all the foam we've both worked up, I don't even want to think about what you probably had sloshing around in—"
"I mean I can't wear any of them anymore! Can't keep lying to you. To myself. To everypony!"
"Lying?" Applejack repeated, baffled. "When have you ever told us any lies?"
Highflyer lifted his head, but still kept his face turned firmly away. Wisteria couldn't help noticing his scalp was now covered with a layer of dark stubble, indicating that his sheared-off mane had started growing back in. "It's not what I have told you," he said in a hollow voice. "It's what I haven't."
"And what's that, son?" Screwjob asked with a hint of challenge. "That you used a fake ID to get those sleeves you love showing off? That you know how to gut a griffon with its own claws?"
Skywishes suddenly looked interested. "Has he done that?"
"Yeah," Screwjob said offhoofedly before plunging right on. "Or that you nearly put my poor aunt—light of my life, the woman who raised me—in hot water by tricking her into hiring you as a bouncer at the Water Hole when you were still too young to even legally be allowed in there?"
"Well, they sure know all that now, thanks to you flapping your big mouth." Highflyer snapped.
"So what?" Screwjob shot back. "What? You're worried that they'll think less of you now that they know all that?" Screwjob snorted derisively. "The only reason I was even able to blab about it is because I already knew all those facts. I've known about them for years! You've known that I've known about them for years! And knowing them certainly didn't stop me from tearing off after your sawed-off tail, did it?" Stepping around to face Highflyer, he dipped his head down to put it more on level with that of the smaller stallion. "So what's really bothering you, son?"
Highflyer sighed. "Hearing Ray call me a spiteful vindictive bully."
Wisteria frowned. "Highflyer, that was a changeling, not—"
"I know it wasn't really her, but still ... hearing those words come out of her mouth..."
"But you know they're not true. We all know you were the one who got picked on as a colt; you weren't a bully."
Highflyer's head sank again. "Yes, I was. What do you think I was doing when I dropped out of Flight Camp? I learned how to fight, and I practiced and practiced and practiced with one goal in mind: Never to let anypony ever push me around again. So I went back and beat up each and everypony that ever bullied me. Beat them bloody and sent them away limping. And you know what the craziest part of it is?" He sounded bitter. "I got away with it. None of them wanted to admit that they'd gotten beaten by a flightless pegasus only a fraction of their size.
"Ray mentioned that Derpy admired me and wanted to meet me because I found a way to use my size and flightlessness to my advantage." He snorted. "She didn't know the half of it. I loved the power that came with the fact that I'd both beaten up all those bullies and gotten away with it. I started tracking down other bigger ponies. Provoking them into taking a swipe at me, and then whipping them mercilessly. Being able to exert that kind of power over them ... I loved it. I just couldn't get enough of it.
"Shy, I told you that for a long time no wrestling company would hire me. Well, they weren't just turning me away because of my size, or because I didn't have any formal training. It was also because I had a reputation for picking fights and treating my opponents viciously.
"That changeling was dead right about me. When push comes to shove, that whole hero image I've built up in the ring is as fake as Screwjob's self-centeredness."
"Hey! There's nothing fake about that!" Screwjob shot back, but it sounded almost programmed.
"Oh, can it, Jobs! Your heel routine isn't fooling anyone and you know it!"
Screwjob opened his mouth to retort, but hesitated when he noticed the other ponies watching them.
Highflyer seemed to deflate again. "Jobs, I've really botched this whole situation and I can't even claim I had some noble selfless reason for attacking those changelings. I just wanted a target that I could make feel the sort of pain I was feeling, and I didn't care if I jeopardized all of you in the process. I did it for me."
Discord looked down at Highflyer's words scrawled on his body.
I did it for me.
The words felt like a combination confession and accusation. They made him think back on how he had told himself he was thinking of Fluttershy's well-being when he went after the changelings ... but in reality, he had been thinking only about how he could sweep his leaving her under the rug. Then Derpy's words came back to him again: Do I do this to be loved, or in order to love?
Oh, you claimed you were doing it for your relationship with Fluttershy, but you never truly thought about her, did you, Discord?! No! All that time—All that time! ... You were thinking of yourself and how you could get what you wanted!
"High..." This time Screwjob's voice was surprisingly gentle. When there was no response, he continued. "Son ... Do you regret what you did tonight? Going after the changelings."
"What do you think? Of course I do! That's the whole reason I took the mask off. I'd just be lying to myself if I kept it on."
"And did you regret it at the time you were clobbering those bullies?"
"Well ... Not at the time ... but I do now!"
"And that's precisely why I went tearing after you, son. Because I knew you'd regret it, and I wanted you to have the chance to make amends." He rested a hoof on Highflyer's tattooed shoulder. "You've got that chance now."
Highflyer's head twitched in the direction of that hoof. "Jobs, I don't deserve the grace you keep giving me."
Screwjob's tone suddenly turned hard. "It's mine to offer, whether you feel like you deserve it or not." He decisively clapped Highflyer's shoulder, producing a wet smack. "Now, considering we're both covered in foam ... Wishie, you got some place we can scrub ourselves off before we catch a chill?"
A short time later, Wisteria was watching over Bonfire. They'd removed the splint from her front leg, (It had indeed healed crooked as Skywishes had suspected, meaning the little one would now have a permanent limp, but everypony had agreed trying to reset the leg might be far more traumatic than it was worth.) patched the wound in the back of her head, and wrapped her in a blanket. Though Bonfire was breathing steadily, she hadn't stirred since that changeling had beaten her into unconsciousness, and this worried Wisteria. But there was nothing she could currently do but watch and pray.
Out of the corner of her eyes she suddenly noticed Dinky carrying a bundle of slate-blue-and-rust-red wrestling clothes, and walking toward the area Skywishes had directed the two wrestlers to go to scrub themselves down. The teenager disappeared out of sight, and a moment later Wisteria heard her voice.
"High?"
"Kid?" Highflyer sounded weary, as if all the confessions earlier had drained him. It was the most he'd spoken in weeks, and considering the moth tattoo in his chest had likely been copying everything...
"I heard what you said earlier." said Dinky. "And I'm not saying what you did back then was right, but ... we need you, High. You gave me all those pointers back at Fluttershy's cottage and I intended to use them, but the fact is I'm not a natural fighter. You are."
Wisteria had to admit Dinky had a point. As reckless as Highflyer's actions had been, there was no denying the fact that he had just managed to take on and incapacitate three changelings all by himself. Wisteria on the other hoof, wasn't sure she could even hold her own against one.
"You might have used your aggression for the wrong reasons with those changelings," Dinky went on. "But you used it for the right reasons when trying to save me, Amethyst, and my mom in Ghastly Gorge. Please don't forget that."
After a moment's silence, there was a gentle raspy chuckle. "You've grown kid, and I don't just mean physically. Though ... it looks like you've gotten taller than me since we got here."
Dinky's soft laugh echoed his, and a moment later Wisteria saw her padding by in the direction of her mother's bed, now minus the wrestling clothes.
"High?" Wisteria heard Screwjob ask after several more minutes.
"Hm?" was Highflyer's answering grunt.
"Uh, I need to know ... does it bother you that I'm pursuing Apps?"
"Why do you ask?"
Wisteria's ears pricked up. Maybe she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but ... well, she was curious.
"Because I know how you felt about Rainbow Dash. And I also know you don't like to advertise when something's bothering you. I know the image we're supposed to present to the world: that I'll gleefully do anything to cut you down to your already miniscule size—"
"Har har."
"—but we both know that's pure gimmick. If my pursing Apps so soon after your losing Ray is genuinely bothering you, just tell me and..." He faltered and when he went on his voice was pained but no less sincere. "And I'll stop."
There was a long pause before Highflyer responded. "You want the truth?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I wanted you to lie. I can lie to myself plenty."
Another long pause. Then: "Sometimes I just want to smack her for how she treats you."
"Now, High," said Screwjob, his tone half-joking. "Don't go hitting on my woman."
This was greeted with a sardonic snort. "Don't worry, Jobs. In spite of how I acted earlier, I'm not that stupid. I know you'd break my back if I ever so much as laid a hoof on her. But at the same time I just don't get what you see in her. She hates you."
"But that's exactly what makes her so perfect. Not to toot my own fiddle—"
"Horn."
"That too. And who am I kidding? I totally am tooting both. I'm not a bad-looking guy, and I got the fanfillies to prove it. But I don't want—No, I can't have just any old fanfilly who will swoon the second I give her the eye. I need a mare who can stand up to me, who will put me in my place, and not let me walk all over her." His voice took on a wistful tone. "Just like Applejack has done ever since I met her."
"I'd say you have a humiliation fetish, but I already know you like losing to me."
"Hey, I make you earn those victories!"
Highflyer chuckled, but it quickly turned to a drawn-out sigh. "I still think you're putting your hopes on a lost cause where she's concerned." Then he laughed ruefully. "But then again, that's what everypony said when you pushed for the company to give me a chance."
"Hey, it's the same thing they said about me as a colt when Slugs approached my aunt with the offer to train me as a wrestler. Back when pretty much everypony in Panhandle was calling me 'Screwjob the Screw-up.'"
"Is that why you keep giving me chances?"
"That's part of it. Face it, High. Apart from that pesky little issue of blood, you really are your old man's son. But don't let the company know I said that. They might try to write us some storyline involving you being my kid."
"What's wrong with that? You sure look old enough to pass for my dad."
This was greeted with a smack. "I do not! And even if I did, I still look better than you ever will in or out of your mask."
I've missed this! Wisteria realized with a sudden pang of regret. She'd missed the way the two wrestlers would banter with each other. Highflyer must have felt unable to use even that outlet when the moth tattoo started recording his every word...
At that moment Applejack brushed past Wisteria on her way to relieve Skywishes of changeling guard duty. The earth-pony had a troubled look on her face. Wisteria suddenly wondered if Applejack had noticed her eavesdropping, but didn't have the courage to ask on the off-chance that the expression was caused by something else.
She looked back down at Bonfire. She still hadn't woken up, but was now twitching about, uttering short harsh whimpers as her bony lashless lids moved restlessly. It always broke Wisteria's heart to see the little one trapped in some torment that Wisteria longed to free her from but seemed utterly unable to.
"Fluttershy?" Highflyer's soft raspy voice sounded much closer than it had earlier. "Can we talk?"
She hesitated in turning toward him. "Are you ... decent?"
This was greeted with a short reflexive snort of laughter. "I'm masked if that's what you mean."
She turned to face him. He was wearing the costume Dinky had been carrying earlier. Its combination of slate blue and rusty red-orange with black trim reminded her of a kestrel falcon.
"I didn't mean you have to be." she said quickly. "I just—"
He waved a hoof dismissively. "At this point, I've had a mask on my face so long I don't feel like myself without one." He aimed a look of resigned irritation down at his shirt-covered stomach, making Fluttershy suspect the moth tattoo was still copying down every sound he made. The V-neck of the shirt was low enough to frame both the similar V of the tattooed chain circling his neck and the tattooed falcon pendant suspended from it. Feathery antennae flicked up from the pendant and vibrated excitedly, causing Highflyer to grimace.
With new resolve, Fluttershy moved to fully face him, putting a hoof to the falcon pendant, which immediately morphed into an eagerly fluttering moth.
"No," Fluttershy said sharply. "None of that now."
The moth froze, and she leaned in closer to it, speaking in her sternest voice. "Listen to me. Pay attention. You have been needlessly exasperating Highflyer by recording every sound he makes, and I'm very disappointed in you for it. While you are his guest, you will abide by his rules. I want you to record his words only when he speaks directly to you. Otherwise, you are to give him his privacy. Understand?"
The moth nodded, its wings and antennae both drooping dejectedly.
"Do you want to know how you can make amends?"
Its antennae raised hopefully.
"Prove to us that you can be trusted by being the gracious guest I know you can be." The moth nodded wildly before morphing back into the stationary falcon. Fluttershy withdrew her hoof and looked up to meet Highflyer's eyes. "Um, why don't you try talking and see what happens?"
"Uh." Highflyer pulled up his shirt, exposing his stomach, and looked off to the side. "Testing, testing."
No words appeared.
"Testing, testing," he repeated, this time directing it at his chest, and this time the words appeared for several seconds before fading away.
Fluttershy looked away, feeling suddenly ashamed. "Highflyer ... I'm ... sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I knew that tattoo was bothering you..."
"I'd probably have bitten your head off if you'd tried earlier." Highflyer admitted, shaking his head ruefully as he lowered his shirt. "In a lot of ways, I'm still that undersized colt who hates looking weak and letting anypony else fight his battles."
That had indeed been what had caused Fluttershy to hesitate in stepping in, but all she said aloud was, "I have the opposite problem. I might have gotten better at asserting myself in some situations but my first instinct is still to roll over and play 'doormat' when faced with conflict."
He laughed softly. "In other words, you're a therapy rabbit, and I'm an attack dog."
Fluttershy let out a low laugh as well, but it swiftly faded. "Still I shouldn't have hit you like I did earlier. I told Spike to send us back when he did, so it's just as much my fault that we're stuck here." She lowered her head and offered her face. "You can hit me back." It was only fair she felt.
He raised an eyebrow, creating visible creases in his mask, before drawing back one hoof. Fluttershy braced herself for the blow. But when his hoof shot toward her face, it stopped short and dealt her cheek a light smack that was scarcely more than a gentle pat.
"There. I'd say that's about equal to the damage your blow did me."
This left Fluttershy feeling both relieved and a tad insulted that Highflyer seemed to regard her attack on him as so inconsequential.
"Besides," said Highflyer, absently tracing the tattooed V of chains on his chest. "Giving me back my favorite tattoo is way better than giving me the okay to slug you."
"Your favorite?" This surprised Fluttershy given how relatively small and easy-to-overlook the pendant seemed next to Highflyer's large elaborate backpiece and full sleeves. "Why is that your favorite? If you don't mind my asking."
"I got it after my first big match with Screwjob, after we'd built up a whole storyline with me as his up-and-coming underdog of a rival. The fans loved it, and I wanted something to celebrate our success. Something I could look at and always be reminded of how Jobs gave me a chance, and how the two of us managed to prove everypony else wrong."
"Yeah, he went shopping around for a memento and saw this falcon pendant on a chain that he really liked." Screwjob—stripped down to his wrestling tights and foreleg bandages—added, swaggering over to elbow his coworker. "But of course, he didn't want anything around his neck that could be used for potential strangulation. So rather than just knuckle under and buy the jewelry, his 'brilliant' idea was to go have it permanently tattooed around his neck."
Highflyer smirked up at him. "Thanks, Elephant-ears. But you forgot to mention the second option also came with the added bonus of watching you flinch and look away like the wuss you are every time that needle went into my skin."
Fluttershy remembered Highflyer mentioning that his wearing a mask had originally been Screwjob's idea. And while the mask might have initially started as a mere gimmick, it had also come to serve as a reminder that he wasn't the same pony he used to be. Now it seemed that tattoo circling his neck had been a similar reminder. No wonder he had been so furious with the moth tattoo for just moving in there uninvited...
Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. Highflyer cocked his head to look up more fully into her face. "Shy?"
"Sorry," she said, wiping at her eyes. "But it just hit me that ... I know more about your tattoos than I do about any of Discord's." I don't even know why he got them or why he picked out the particular ones he has. Now she might never have the chance to learn. It may have seemed like a small detail in the grand scheme of things, but it was yet another painful reminder that Discord was now living on borrowed time unless they could somehow reverse the verdict, somehow rescue him, somehow expose the changelings—
At that moment, Highflyer reared up, stripped off his shirt, and tossed it to the side. Wrapping his hooves around Fluttershy's head, he drew it down to him until her muzzle was almost touching his chest. "Talk to him now." Her eyes turned up to meet his, and he gave her a quick nod. "Go on. It's okay."
"Fluttershy!" At the sound of Twilight's voice, Highflyer released Fluttershy, and she straightened up to see the alicorn hurrying their way.
"What's wrong?" Fluttershy asked, noticing how shaken Twilight looked.
"I just got the results back separating the disguises from those blood samples."
"Did it work?"
"Oh? Yes." Twilight gave herself a quick shake. "Yes, I was able to get them stripped down to the original DNA. It confirms they're what we suspected all along—changeling with a touch of windigo essence. But that's not what I need to talk to you about. After what you told us about seeing Bonfire in Discord's memory, I decided to run a similar test on some of her blood. Just to do a little comparison and contrast with the changelings' DNA."
"W-what did you find out? Are they ... similar?"
"No." Twilight still seemed to be trying to collect herself. "No, Fluttershy, they're ... they're not similar ... They're identical."
Also LikedSimilarAuthor
- A M Shark · 106k words · 117 5 · 3.3k views
- taterforlife · 5.8k words · 52 3 · 2.2k views
- Commander30 · 20k words · 22 0 · 489 views
- A M Shark · 79k words · 178 6 · 4.2k views
- misskoifishpony · 1.2k words · 43 3 · 2.4k views
- Dott · 2.8k words · 25 4 · 875 views
- taterforlife · 9.9k words · 36 0 · 871 views
- kurusagi16 · 41k words · 27 6 · 1.1k views
Stats
Page generated in 0.115 seconds
Total duration
922 users online
1,297,612 hits today, 1,872,792 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
11775908
Oh I’m so reading this now
Can I please get a link to Bride of Discord? Or did I already ask this?
And another great chapter. This is one of my favorite fan docs on this very sight, probably in my top 5 at the very least. Keep up the good work…
Dam now it’s gonna be forever before the next chapter 😂
Very nice! Now, the clock is ticking!
Ooh, this chapter was great! Things are really getting intense...even if Rarity manages to stretch out her supply of disguise potion, they only have so much time to come up with a plan to save Discord...And even then, how can any plan work if they can't get there? Plus, the witnesses and Scout going missing must be suspicious, and someone is going to notice. Aaaaaa!
Oh, Highflyer...Even if his actions weren't good, they're understandable. He's still mourning, and it's not all that surprising that he wants to make Rainbow's murderers pay.
At least there are some positives, like Twilight being able to use their captives to develop a working changeling detection spell.
Oooh, are we going to learn about Bonfire now? With her having the same DNA...does that just mean she's an actual draconequus, or is she an exact clone of Discord? And hmm...would her moment of creation happening to be at a time Discord was concerned with Fluttershy be just coincidence or not?
I never expected to get so attached to an OC, and yet here I am, absolutely loving this Highflyer chapter. Not only is he just fun, but he's got a lot of heart behind him.
And WOW, what a chapter! It feels like things are flying off the rails, and I'm HERE for it. 30 days to save Discord, 2 weeks to make a new potion, several hostages, and now this mystery with Bonfire!
Also, poor Scout! Sure he's working against our team, but I can't help but feel a bit bad for the funny guy.
11775947
You might have asked someone else that, but you haven't asked me it before. Regarding a link: Typing it into the search bar should pull it up for you pretty quickly, but I'm currently too lazy to do it myself.
Anyway, onto the comments regarding this chapter.
11775955
Thank you. I'm honored to hear you're enjoying it that much.
*Laughs nervously* Well, I'm trying not to let that be the case. Granted Chapter 14 has some tricky elements as our pack of ponies deal with their latest dilemma but I aim to have it posted as soon as possible.
11776600
That it is, indeedy. Though considering that previously the events of The Ponies who Played with Fire took place over the course of one week... A surprising amount can happen in that time.
11782817
*Laughs nervously* Whoops, bit of miscommunication there on my part. Bonfire's DNA is actually identical to that of the changelings, not Discord. (I went back and reworked that section to hopefully make that a bit clearer.) Though like that earlier theory about Bonfire secretly being Sunny Daze, the idea of her having draconequus DNA is definitely going in my "Oh man, that would really make an interesting AU to explore if it really were the case" folder.
11782817
11785022
*Smiles* You don't know how relieved I was to read both those comments.
Fun fact: I know it's an eye-rollingly cliché song choice but I used "Monster" by Skillet as a combination mood music/theme while working on Highflyer's parts in this chapter. Though as a slightly less cliché song choice, I listened to "No Mercy" by Zayde Wolf when Screwjob started giving his little buddy a therapy session as only he can.
*Laughs and shakes head* Yes, Scout is definitely getting a lot more than he bargained for at the moment.
Anyway, thanks again for your comments, everyone, and I'll let you know as soon as I have the next chapter ready.