The Siren

by McPoodle

Chapter 13

The Ponyville Village Green.

July 25 of the Year 1 PRE. Sunday afternoon.

The Green was the piece of land that covered the main part of the Bunker. It was located just north of the Records Building that acted as its entrance.

Lyra spent most of her afternoons in this area, earning her keep through her musical performances on her lyre. Sundays were her best days, and so it paid to be more varied in her repertoire. And so, her usual playlist of folk pieces was interrupted by something classical: Arabianesque, by the griffon composer G. Busy.

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Applejack didn’t have time for fancy music. She was running the apple stand at the southeast end of the Main Plaza alongside Granny Smith. She went back to check the barrels of apples that Big Mac had brought out that morning before returning to the farm and found that they were nearly all gone.

“I’ll have to go back and get some more apples, Granny,” she said. “Go ahead and shut down while I’m gone.”

“And why do I need to do that?” Granny replied. “I’m not going to collapse from working solo for a few minutes.”

“Well, alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And with that Applejack was off, pulling the cart full of empty barrels down the southern road to Sweet Apple Acres.

A few minutes later, Granny noticed a shadow pass over her counter. Standing before her was Lyra, inspecting her wares with a critical air. “These are some mighty fine apples you have here, Ma’am.”

Granny looked up and gave her visitor a piercing look. Lyra’s voice sounded off. “They’re the best apples you’ll find in all of Equestria,” she replied. “Ma’am.”

Lyra picked up an apple in her light turquoise aura, an aura that only Granny as a changeling could see. She took a bite, dropping a couple of bits on the table to pay for it. “Indeed. The equal of all of the other Apple family fruit I have sampled. Your network covers a good deal of Equestria.”

Granny leaned forward. “Jealous?” she asked.

“Not really.” Lyra smirked. “The members of your clan, are they happy? Living with their lie?”

Granny blanched for a split second before recovering. “And what sort of lies do you suppose that Apples suffer from, Madame Basilisk?” She slid over another apple. “That one’s on the house. I’ve wanted to speak to you for quite a while now, matriarch to matriarch.”

Lyra, or rather the Basilisk, frowned. “How did you find me out so quickly?”

Granny tapped an ear with her hoof. The sound of the Arabianesque was still audible.

“Oh. Well, if you’re not immediately going to summon the gendarmes…”

Granny settled into a relaxed position.

“In that case, I would say the lie of your form.” She leaned in for the kill. “My special talent not only allows me to disguise myself perfectly, but also to see through any kind of illusion, including yours, changeling.”

Granny did nothing more than blink. It appeared that she had stopped breathing.

“Now I’m not the sort of pony who degrades herself with blackmail or extortion. I leave that for the other ponies”—she swept her hoof around her, taking in all of the ponies around them—“the ones who embrace their lies. I prefer to get my way with my honest arguments. So here is mine:

“What are you doing living here? They will never accept you as you truly are, while I and my kind will love you for you, each and every one of you. Leave Equestria, and become the backbone of my new nation.”

Granny stared intently into the mind and heart of the Basilisk, into her emotional core. And she did see complete honesty—this pony had no intention of turning the Apples in. Which didn’t mean that she wasn’t still extremely dangerous to her and her plans. She needed to trick the Basilisk into staying long enough for her granddaughter to get back. She made a show of slowly looking around her before she next spoke. “So, what else can you see?”

“I see it all!” the Lyra lookalike said, stepping back. “All of the lies, all of the illusions! I’ve visited that famous Bunker of yours. That ceiling to take in unicorn magic—every horn comfortably touches that ceiling, because every adult unicorn in Equestria is exactly the same height! That’s not normal! 90% of pegasi have exactly the same flight parameters! That’s not normal either. Every earth pony—”

“Did you really look around you, little lady? Then or now?” Granny asked with a crafty smile. “Because Ponyville is not like the other towns and cities you might have seen in Equestria. Quite apart from the Apple Clan and our particular secret, we attract the eccentrics, the ones who question too much of the status quo. Our unicorns may be the same height, but they sure don’t think the same as each other. We have pegasi with earth pony powers, and earth ponies with powers that shouldn’t belong to any pony. If you’re looking for Paradise, Honey, you might want to consider that you’re actually standing in it.”

“Granny Smith!” the voice of Applejack carried across the plaza. “Look out! That pony’s a fake!”

“Interesting words,” the pony disguised as Lyra said with a wink. “I’ll get back to you later.” And then just as a group of ponies converged on her, she suddenly disappeared.

The pony posse stopped, turning and looking around them to try and see where the mystery pony had teleported to.

“No!” exclaimed Applejack, running through them. “She didn’t leave—she’s invisible, and she’s right…” She stopped and looked around her. The pony she had sensed with her emotion sight had blended so thoroughly into the crowd that it was impossible for Applejack to find her. There no longer was an invisible pony, but that just meant that her quarry had assumed another disguise.

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“Nice piece.”

Lyra had finished her performance and was now collecting bits from her audience. She took the hoofful of bits from the newest visitor, a unicorn with a coat color composed of a mixture of pink, purple and gray. She had a mane that was straight in front, parting around the horn like Twilight’s, and swirling around her neck in back, colored purple with an aquamarine highlight. Her tail swirled in a similar fashion; a pattern repeated in her cutie mark…usually. Every few seconds the mark would shift and fade for an instant, before re-solidifying.

“Thank you. I believe you missed most of it.”

“Oh, I heard it in the Plaza. What’s it called?”

“I forget the proper title. I like to call it The Star Hustler. It’s really meant to be played on the Moog.”

The pony nodded like she had any idea what Lyra was talking about. She looked up at the big clock mounted on the side of Town Hall. “Well, I have a train to catch. Nice listening to you.”

“Well come again soon!”

“You know what? I just might.”

Author's Note:

See Chapter 15 for the notes for Chapters 13, 14 & 15.