The Ghost of Coltistrano: Phantom Eulogy

by EthanClark

Chapter 15: “It always did suit you.”

Empty street corners were a foreign sight to him. He often made this trek from the palace, where crowds of smiling and colorful faces dotted his vision in every direction, bustling towards whatever unknowable goals they held, leaving him to sometimes wonder what might become of them. Even in his own busy world, following the faces of his fellow citizens was a cherished indulgence. He’d been denied this for days.

Fancy Pants walked alone down the rainy streets of Canterlot. The black veil of an umbrella shielded him from the downpour, but not from the graying sight of the buildings leading to his home, lined with more soldiers than citizens. Restaurant Row was desolate. Even the gates to his own mansion failed to spark any measure of joy from him as he pushed the squealing bars open and crossed the stone towards the door. Warmth from within, however, gave him some contentment.

“Nimble? I do hope you’re still working through those schedules… not like it truly matters.” The final words leaked from his lips in a whisper as Fancy discarded his umbrella in the rack beside him. An ear turned out to the open lobby. Silence.

“Nimble?” Fancy’s tone became withdrawn, measured, his eyes squinting as he walked through the hallway flanked with large paintings towards a familiar set of doors. Rain pattered against the glass windows. Confronted by the large oaken wood forced Fancy to pause but, with a deep breath and a few silent words of encouragement, he pressed his hoof firmly against the door to peer inside. At the large, familiar table, Fancy found Nimble Quill, staring at him wide-eyed and with a wire thin clench of his lips, while across the room, sitting at his own desk, was an argent-maned pony.

“Who are you?” Fancy leapt to the side, setting himself between Nimble and the stranger in black. “Are you one of his agents? Answer me!”

The pony raised his hooves in surrender, daring to test Fancy’s nerves by standing from the chair and rounding the desk. “I’m not with Shield Wall.”

“Neither were many others, and even they were… my goodness. Aristo? You survived?”

“And I need your help.” Fancy’s nerves got the better of him as Silver stepped forward, flinching on his approach, but Silver held his pace. “He got to you before the party, right? Has you doing his bidding?”

“If only you knew, but how did you survive? Everyone knows how Coltistrano was destroyed, and the Ghost, did he… is he truly dead?”

“Maybe not. That’s why I’m here. Shield Wall has a safehouse here in Canterlot, and I need to get inside. If he’s still there I’ll be able to put an end to this nightmare for good.”

“Were it only so simple,” Fancy finally lowered his guard, stumbling back to the round table behind him. “There’s more at play here than just that mad bastard. It started with a few agents around the country, but now they’re inside the highest seat of government.”

“The changelings, and Chrysalis,” Silver stated, drawing an airy laugh from Fancy.

“So you know, then? Good, at least someone does, but then you also know Shield is only a small part in the queen’s game. She’s planting her drones in key positions, commanding soldiers and officials, and they do it without suspicion.”

“Just following orders.” Silver’s expression hardened at the familiar mantra. “But we can find Shield and use what he knows to stop her. There aren’t enough changelings yet to overwhelm the EUP, I just need to know where he is.”

Fancy paused, scanning Silver with a discerning monocle-clad eye before smiling. “I’ve been cut off from my usual contacts in the Investigations Bureau, but a contact of mine suggests something peculiar is happening inside the Clocktower Auberge. If I were you, that’s where I’d start.”

“The Clocktower Auberge,” Silver returned, chuckling to himself. “Who would’ve thought? I’ll head over there immediately. Will you be safe on your own?”

“Don’t worry about me, Shield’s more concerned with humiliating me than murdering me. Besides, I have… Nimble?”

Both ponies turned to the blonde pony at the other end of the table, trembling and dripping with a slime from his teeth. Fancy looked on in horror as the familiar visage of his apprentice melted away in a verdant wave of power, revealing the chitin-covered carapace of a changeling drone as it let out an ear-piercing hiss. He lunged, and just as Silver stepped in front of Fancy to catch the wild foe a flash of black and rags swiped along its back, raking against the softer spots between his wings and sending him downwards, his chin slamming against the floor. Fancy recoiled at the sight of the other guest, standing atop the table.

“A-Aristo, you… that’s… you know who that is, yes?” He peered into Alate’s pale eyes, shaking at her presence. “Don’t tell me you’re working with this villain. After all she-”

“Fancy, take a look around and tell me how many allies we really have.”

Fancy glared at Silver, then peered down to the true and unconscious form of Nimble Quill, swallowing hard on the solemn realization Silver’s words brought him. “These are desperate times, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Silver returned, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “We’ll make this right, but I need to ask you to keep an eye on things in the city, there’s a good chance we’ll be back. Can I trust you to do that?”

“Of course.” With Fancy’s affirmations, Silver nodded to Alate, hopping down from the table as he hoisted Nimble over his back. She joined him on his way out the oaken doors of the study. Breath caught in his throat a few times, but by the time he finally found the courage in his stilted breath his saviors were gone, leaving him alone in the grand study.

—

All the back alleys of Canterlot blended together as time went on. Silver was careful ducking between passing patrols and the occasional pegasi overhead as they cut through the loading dock behind Canterlot’s empty Restaurant Row. Silver’s hoof shot up as they reached the mouth of the alley. Together, they froze. Two soldiers dashed up and down the street before them and into some of the buildings lining it, with a few crossing dangerously close to the duo’s hiding spot. Moments passed before Silver was confident enough to lower his hoof.

“Do you think Fancy knew about the attack on Coltistrano?” Alate asked. “How much does he really know about what’s going on?”

“Shield never lets his plans slip, not even to gloat. I’d bet we actually know more than Fancy does, at this point.”

“And Shield, too,” Alate interrupted. “This is her doing. There’s no one else it could be, Silver.”

“Of all the nightmares…” Silver returned, but before he could continue he found the towering clocktower standing along the city’s skyline. “There it is, the Clocktower Auberge. Can you make out how occupied it is from here?”

“It’s not so easy from this distance, but there’s still a strong scent. No ponies, I think, but definitely changelings inside.”

“Of course,” Silver said with a firm groan. “Okay… so, I remember enough of the inside from when Darrox and I used it as a safehouse. It’s your run of the mill, super fancy, and far too expensive hotel with only passable room service. I’ll take a wild guess and say the two guards out front are changelings, right?”

Alate squinted as she spoke. “Yup, and a little extra.”

“How much ‘extra’?”

Alate scanned the building. Her mind flooded with the high pitched sounds of chittering, her senses completely flooded by a slurry of vile, forceful emotions leeching her resolve, but the sensations weakened as she scanned upwards. It was around the clock face where she regained her composure. She could feel a single presence there, not a changeling, concealed by the Auberge’s uppermost suite, but radiating with a sense of passion Alate locked onto like a hawk.

“The whole building, with a pony at the top.”

“The… whole building?” Silver gave the tower a scan of his own, whistling at the thought. “Is it Shield up there?”

“Not sure. No other building is like this, though, so whoever’s up there must at least know something about him.”

Silver smirked, giving a contented sigh. “Well, if it is him then it’s a fitting place for a last stand.”

“Silver, slow down. If the entire building is hostile then we need to think this through. There’s got to be another way in, or some way we can scale-”

“If you can sense the occupants of that tower from over here, then they’ll definitely be able to sniff out a pony and a traitor who both don’t belong.”

“So, what, we just go in through the front door and work our way up?”

His smirk was the last thing she needed. For the next few seconds her mouth hung open, eyes darting between Silver and the looming gauntlet that was the Auberge, until finally she leaned her back against the alley wall and groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Silver gently patted her shoulder. “Not if I can help it. Is Sulcus up there?”

“No. Doesn’t look like the queen gave Shield the best security she could’ve. Not surprising, though, she’s probably hoping someone finds him.”

“They deserve each other, then,” Silver chuckled, gloomily. “So… shall we?”

Both stood from their hiding place. Silver took time to don his uniform, placed snugly beneath the armor around his midsection, and passed the helmet to Alate, drawing her hood overtop to protect her scarred horn. Once Silver’s satchel of bombs was secured to his side, they trotted side by side towards the tower. Two bellhops stepped aside to let them pass, never once breaking eye contact as the duo crossed over into the ornate lobby of the Clocktower Auberge. Twin staircases lead up to the first floor of amenities the Auberge offered, lined in a twirling golden leaf and framing the wire metal clock face just above the front desk, ticking away the seconds.

Silver and Alate found themselves flanked by a number of fancy and well-to-do ponies dressed in Canterlot’s latest fineries, against which they stood out. This crowd, however, followed their path past them and the row of elevators towards the lobby desk as a bubbly purple pony emerged from the back room. With energetic steps she hopped before them both.

“Hello! Welcome sir, and madam, to the Clocktower Auberge. We thank you for selecting us as your favored refuge in this difficult time. Are you looking for a room for two? Despite the lockdowns, we still have happy hour available until eight in the evening.”

“Fabulous,” Silver said with a certain haught in his voice. “My friend and I were hoping for one of your finer rooms. On my last stay, we were fortunate enough to book the Time Keeper Suite. Top floor, lovely view, and a bottle of champagne, please?”

While Silver taunted the hostess, Alate’s chitin shivered from the oppressive stares of the crowd around her. She clenched her jaw at the sight of fangs and dripping ichor emerging from the hotel guests, prompting her to nudge Silver.

“I’m sorry sir,” the hostess laughed. “But the Time Keeper Suite has already been booked. Could-”

“By Shield Wall, right?” Silver declared, glaring into her very soul, and the hostess found herself on the back hoof, stunned by his forwardness. Her shock soon became a chilling whisper that drew the crowd closer to them.

“You won’t make it out alive,” she hissed.

“As if death could stop me… or save you.”

Silver moved before the swarm did, pulling a swirling vial of pink mist from his satchel and hurling it overhead. It crashed against the face of the closest attacker before bursting into a wide, thin cloud, leaving all trapped inside a coughing, sputtering mess. As their hisses became slurred and their movements languid, the hostess leaped from behind the desk towards the argent pony. Alate took the opportunity to test her speed. She snagged the changeling mid-transformation, fangs inches away from Silver’s face, and redirected her momentum through the front of the desk, head plunged through the woodwork.

It wasn’t long before more changelings joined from the second floor. Silver and Alate were careful to conserve their energy, striking only when needed and ducking through the growing crowd towards the elevators. Alate entered first, with Silver allowing his extra protection to bear the brunt of the attackers aggression while Alate fumbled with the lever. She yanked him in and slammed the lever all the way, smashing the gate onto the face of one changeling as the small car traveled upwards.

“Did you have to taunt them?” Alate barked.

“I got them in range… you’re welcome.”

Tremors shook through the elevator car. Through the wire windows on the sides, Silver could see the snarling faces of changelings crawling up the walls, weighing it down. Silver took the opportunity to jump up and knock open the maintenance hatch above. He pulled himself through and began kicking changelings from the car and into the darkened shaft below, but for every one he felled more seemed to appear, until Alate buzzed upwards and joined the fray.

Silver’s attention was pulled away by the same hissing, this time coming from above, higher into the shaft. Pale eyes cut through the darkness and barrelled towards them. Green bolts fired down upon them, singing the car and slicing one of Silver’s legs along the armor, knocking him to his knees. They could neither hear or see, trapped in the bubble of violent intent smothering them with each passing second.

“Hold onto me!” Alate’s order was confirmed by a pair of hooves firmly wrapping themselves around her midsection. Alate reached out into the swarm, grabbing hold of a changeling, horn alight with power, and pulling him in to do what she could not: firing a blast into the elevator’s counterweight. With a snap and a grunt, Alate and Silver both desperately held onto the cable as they were yanked upwards like a missile, zooming through the cloud of changelings, bringing them to a pair of doors beside them, as high as the elevator would go. Silver pulled from his satchel and threw a sphere that burst on impact, allowing them to swing to the smoldering hole and enter the floor.

“Wait, this isn’t the top!” Alate’s head swung back and forth, ever alert for more enemies.

“We have to go around to the other side. It’s an older building, the elevators only go up so far.”

“Are you kidding?!”

Alate’s yelling was cut short by a loud thud from beyond the dark shaft they came from, and a quick glance over the edge revealed the plummeting abyss was filled with pale, vicious eyes slowly crawling their way up. At that, she sprinted away first. Silver produced a slim, metallic vial from his satchel and cast it into the darkness before following suit, the familiar pop of light and sharp ringing announcing his departure down the hallway, speeding past the rows of doors and well-lit windows overlooking the gloomy city beyond. A few doors opened to investigate the commotion, with each occupant transfiguring into their true guise with a snarl before lunging at the duo.

Silver kicked one of the doors hard, trapping a changeling’s tail inside. A second hoof rapped against his chin and sent him to sleep. Alate moved quickly to dodge the swipes of a changeling crawling at her from the ceiling, followed by a vicious mouthful of fangs clamping on her face, but the attacker recoiled with a screech. Glinting metal of her helmet showed itself beneath her hood when Alate wound up and threw a devastating strike into the changeling’s already damaged jaw with a thunderous crack. He slid down the wall beside him, quivering.

From behind, however, the swarm made itself known once more, and Silver’s attempts to produce another death-defying effect from his satchel came up fruitless. Fearful eyes looked to Alate, a message she wholeheartedly agreed with. They slammed the floor in a desperate sprint. More changelings emerged from flanking rooms, snarling and with glowing horns of dripping power, joining the buzzing mass of violence fast approaching them with each second, but the second set of elevators were finally within view.

“Why do you ponies need four elevators to the same floor?!”

“I don’t know! Use that first one!”

The satchel was becoming very light. Sparkling bursts and noxious fumes held the swarm at bay, but only just, and as a final act Silver ignited one of the last few bombs inside the bag, allowing the satchel to catch fire, and threw the full collection at the swarm. The changelings had become well trained to the pain resting within that bag, so much so they squirmed and scattered as it soared through the air before erupting into a spectacular display of every effect Silver had not yet used. Smoke, choking gas, red sparks, a chorus of alchemical awe illuminated the hallway and singed changeling chitin with its brilliance. Even Silver cracked a smile at the display. Alate, though, yanked him into the elevator by his collar and pushed the lever as far as it could go.

“You’re crazy, you know that? Absolutely crazy! That noise is going to attract attention.” Alate removed her helmet and rubbed the aching spot along her head, panting heavily.

“I suppose you’re right… but… boy, was it cool!”

“You could’ve saved some. We’ve only got so much time before they make it up to the suite, and I don’t want them interrupting our business up there.”

“This elevator is the only way into the suite. It’s supposed to be ‘sophisticated’.” Silver took a deep breath, steadying himself. “We’ll block off the door. The changelings won’t expose themselves just to catch us.”

“Not unless they look like EUP.”

“Well, then… we’ll have a few minutes.”

The churning of the elevator’s cables began to slow, and Alate turned to Silver with a softer gaze. “Are you ready for this? You know what happens next.”

“It’ll be the last.”

A loud clunk halted the elevator, the doors slowly opening for the two as they stepped out into the small hallway ending at a single door. Silver and Alate took the stolen guard's armor and crammed its metal plates into the various points of the elevator door to jam it shut. All around them, the phantom sounds of the clocktower’s ticking and whirring of gears followed their slow, measured approach, each step taken with absolute care. Both Silver and Alate felt their muscles twitch. Even tired, their bodies anticipated what came next. Silver placed his hoof onto the door and slowly pushed his way into the familiar suite.

The room was immaculate. Silver stepped around the central furniture in wonderment, tracing the paths he remembered taking on his last visit. The massive clock face loomed over the room, revealing how the clouds outside had grown darker as the storm continued with a flash of distant lightning, but Alate’s attention slowly traveled the perimeter of the suite, and each moment that passed raised her snarling upper lip a bit higher until her senses caught something. Passionate, strong, but with a new scent permeating the aura. Now that Alate was closer she recoiled at the very familiar sensation, whipping her head around the room searching for its source.

“Silver,” she said with a stammer. “It’s not him, but… it’s angry, and in pain.”

Silver, however, had his eyes locked onto the dining table, ignoring Alate’s ministrations as he took his small, timid steps forward. Even the dim light of the stormy world pouring through the clock face was enough to illuminate it. Resting there, pristine, placed upon the stone bust of a pony, seated at the head of the table flowed a shadow. His shadow. When his hoof traveled towards it, he could almost feel the fibers of the cloak reach towards him, too, and the sensation filled him entirely. He savored the feeling as he drew the cloak over him, embracing him once more. Slipping his head through, allowing it to fall square over his shoulders, flowing gracefully along his form. Its comfortable weight spilled over him until Silver released his first contented sigh in months.

“It always did suit you.”

Silver locked eyes with a pair of sea green orbs, gazing at him from across the room. Alate stood ready, crouched low and following her every step, but the unicorn approached unhindered as Silver joined her in the middle of the suite floor. The warm smile she sent him was framed by gentle tears rolling down her cheeks, tears Silver was quick to wipe away with a hoof.

“Has he hurt you?” Silver’s voice was low, barely above a whisper.

“No, don’t worry about me, it’s you I…” Abby stopped her hoof from traveling any farther towards his face, breaking eye contact. “I’m so sorry. The things he’s done, I helped him. Like a fool, I helped him, but I had no idea he would do something so horrid.”

“How could you? You know he only ever wanted to use you.”

“I-I know, I know that now. How is Honey, and the others? Are they safe?”

“This is a trap, Silver,” Alate growled.

“I promise it’s not,” Abby pleaded, softly. “But neither will you find Shield Wall here. He’s left the city, and without him around I’ve been able to work on stopping this madness.”

Silver showed a flash of pride in his small smirk. “You’re Fancy’s contact, aren’t you? That’s how he knew to point us here. You’ve been busy.”

A gentle, genuine smile graced Abby’s lips. “It’s the least I can do to help you, and maybe clear my conscience a bit.”

“Then you can start by telling us where Shield went,” Alate said, flanking Abby.

“Ponyville,” she said, plainly. “Your friends have been undermining his plans in the city for days, now. Chrysalis has ordered him to stop it.”

“Then we’ll head there now. I won’t allow him to turn another city into a crater, and with the princesses-”

“Wait!” Abby latched herself to Silver’s foreleg. “Glint is with him, forced to carry out his orders. You need to save him.”

“Glint?” Alate spat. “He’s the one who carved up what’s left of my horn, and you’re asking us to save him?”

“Please, he’s as much a prisoner as I am, you don’t know what Shield Wall’s put him through. Silver, he’s not a monster. If you can save him, I beg you to give him that chance.”

Silver paused, stunned by Abby’s passionate outburst, but soon violent banging echoed from down the hall. Silver’s foreleg moved on its own, wrapping itself in the cloak and pressing down against the pristine floor, and with a slow exhale of breath he reached out to feel the vibrations shooting up from the blocked off elevator shaft. Dozens of chittering, hissing figures waited inside. They took turns striking the jammed door as it buckled against its restraints.

“They’re coming up through the shaft, we don’t have much time.” A quick nod to Alate urged her to make her way to the balcony before he joined Abby. “Come with us.”

“I can’t, not yet. If I leave now there’ll be no one to warn Fancy, and those changelings will tear me apart, if Shield doesn’t, first.”

“Please… I’ve been looking for you for months.”

“Silver, let me do this.” She peered up at him, face firm with resolve. “I did such… I betrayed you. Too many are dead because of me, my fear of losing you, and I hurt you too, didn’t I? Not a day goes by I don’t regret-”

A second loud bang cut her off, prompting Silver to pull her close. “You can’t ask me to leave you here.”

“I’m not asking,” she said as she caressed his cheek. “I wish there was more I could do. After everything I did, you deserve more, but I swear this is for the best. So please, let me do this, at least.”

Alate shouted after Silver, urging him to her, but he took a moment instead to reach out and kiss Abby’s forehead before wordlessly pulling away. Her eyes trailed behind him as he ran. Shadowy, billowing folds of the cloak enveloped him, rushing besides Alate.

“If Shield Wall isn’t here, then you need to find him in Ponyville,” Alate demanded. “I can stay here if he escapes.”

“The whole city will be looking for you. They hate you more than Shield does.”

“Then they’ll care more about finding me than protecting him.”

“Will you be alright alone?” Silver’s worry was quickly dismissed by Alate’s wry grin, placing a hoof on his shoulder.

“I’m not really alone anymore, am I?”

She stepped back, throwing herself from the building with buzzing wings to guide her descent into the buildings alone. Silver looked back only once, locking eyes with the smiling unicorn before perching himself onto the railing of the balcony. When the third bang rang out, ending in a crash, he reached over his head and drew the cowl down over his face, a sensation long forgotten rushing through him once more, and in an instant he leapt from the clock tower.

Muscle memory guided his limbs to whip the ends of the cloak out to either side. Strong wind caught beneath him, carrying him out across Canterlot’s skyline like a looming omen, slicing through the rain. Ponies shrieked at the sight. Guards called others into formations. Changelings in disguise shuddered and hissed as he passed, their fear threatening to undo their magical guises, and the eyes of all who saw the figure followed him out beyond the Canterlot airport and into the open air, where he dove down with a speed rivaling the very rain. Silver smiled at the chilling damp lining his entire frame and the rush of wind against his eyes. When he unfurled the cloak again and the sensations settled in his chest once more, he knew it for sure.

The Ghost had returned.

Comments

[Odd_Sarge]

Perfect.