Chapter 4: Garlic
“For romance, find a pirate.”
...oooOOO===OOOooo...
I saw—
—emerald eyes and a smiling face of dark chiten in front of a sea of azure crescents that all greeted me with that same warmth that hers held and I was happy so happy to feed on what they offered and it felt good and so pure and I grew and—
—we grew together and we slunk into their bodies and we ate their love and we grew and the Queen was happy but now we all long for more and we all starve but there on the horizon we see and the Queen sees and we all see such beautiful love such pure happiness and goodness and we move and the Queen moves and we all move and plan and plan and plan and we STRIKE and it BREAKS and we WIN and—
I ducked, and the Royal Guard’s beam passed harmlessly over me. His eyes widened, for that attack had been his last chance to defeat me. Now I was too close for him to do anything, and I tackled him. His golden gleaming armor protected him from damage, but not my momentum, and he toppled over. As he tried to scramble back up I opened my mouth. A gurgling erupted from the back of my throat, and my horn glowed. Before the hapless unicorn could react I spat, and green strands of waxy phlegm erupted from my mouth, glowing and expanding with magic to envelop him. I smiled as he clawed futilely at the translucent wall, and I finished weaving his prison with a final hack.
“No! Braveheart!” The shout came from behind me. I saw two more guards, pegasi this time, swoop down from the sky to try and avenge their companion. They did not get the chance. Two forms dived down upon them, knocking them to the ground, where they lay stunned.
"Haha! Some army. These ponies go down easier than a mother who thinks us their foal.” My siblings landed next to me as I spat out another prison for the two pegasi. The one who had spoken leaped atop it as soon as it hardened, posing triumphantly and extending her wings in an attempt to impress us. As usual, it did not work. “Remember this day, my brothers, it is the day we become rulers of this world!”
“Don’t get cocky, Maggy. We haven’t won yet.” At my words her smile merely widened.
“Oh please, you worry too much. There is no way we can lose. There is enough love here to feed us for an eternity, the Elements of Harmony are safely under our control, and Shining Armor has given Chrysalis more power than even Princess Celestia!” She paused, and then frowned. “And what have I told you about calling me Maggy?”
“Would you prefer Maggot, then?” the deep buzzy voice of my other sibling asked, grinning. I snickered at his joke, and Maggy fumed.
“Shut up, Fugax! I have told you both a thousand times to address me as royalty. That’s what I am after all.”
“Oh no, please forgive us your most hole-y majesty.” Fugax mocked.
Maggy had always been self-conscious about the unusually high number of holes in her legs, and I couldn’t help but burst into laughter as she turned bright red in embarrassment—well, really, it was more of a burgundy, but when your cheeks are normally pitch black that’s close enough.
“Silence! Don’t think I won’t remember your taunts when I become Queen—”
“If," I corrected. That only made her madder.
“What? If? Why you—! I should—! Uagh!” She gave up, and stomped away muttering curses under her breath. A moment before disappearing down the street corner, she turned her head to shout, “You should be glad we’re from the same spawn, if we weren’t I’d cut your wings off in your sleep!”
“We’d just grow them back,” I retorted. She gave a final huff before disappearing from view, and beside me Fugax chuckled.
“Well,” he said, “now that this part of the city is secure do you think we should go see if Vespula still needs help, or—?”
What? No! Quickly my Changelings, to me!
Without another word we both leaped into the air. Our Queen was in need, so we would go to her aid. Her panic was our panic. Behind me I felt Maggy, as well as several others, swoop up to join our formation. All of us wondered what had caused her sudden distress. Our wings filled the air with a buzz, and the tower in which our Queen was drew near.
No—!
A wave of energy emerged from the castle without any warning. It hit Fugax first, and me an instant later. We didn’t have time even to attempt to outrun it. We were pushed back and launched faster and farther than I thought possible. Before the blink of my eyes Canterlot was gone. Our triumph. The ponies’ enslavement. All that delicious love. It was all gone. Pulled out from under us without a warning.
A great despair welled up in my chest, but it lasted only a moment before being replaced by dread as the ground rushed forward to crush me.
...oooOOO===OOOooo...
I jerked awake the moment before I hit, gasping. My mind reeled. That had been... what had that been?
Failure.
Canterlot. The first one. The real one. I had been there, among its golden towers and stone streets. We had been there, we Changelings, and we had almost conquered it. I remembered that now. I remembered the Queen’s planning, her infiltration, our attack. I remembered the other changelings; my siblings. Fugax, one of my Queen’s warriors. And Maggy, a rare female. Only she and the very small number of others once had the potential to become Queens of their own one day, in case Chrysalis should fall.
Tears stung my eyes, and I realized that underneath my shock at these revelations was a great sadness. I wanted to be with my Hive again. To be safe underneath the watchful mind of my Queen and to hunt and feed alongside my siblings. What had happened to them all, I wondered. Where was Chrysalis? Had Fugax and Maggy survived? In my dream I felt that I had known them both for so long, but now my memory of them grew foggy. I grasped at the fading images but nothing could stop them from seeping away. It was a horrible feeling.
No matter how hard I tried no more memory would come back. The worst part was that I still did not know how much I did not know. The invasion of Canterlot... the War... our slow death... I saw pieces of my past but not how many holes were missing.
I shook my head, and brought myself back to the present. Despite the dream, I was beautifully well rested, and my headache was long gone. I rose from the bed, and as I did I happened to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the vanity’s mirror, and it caught me by surprise. I was so used to seeing ponies that I guess I had almost started to think of myself as looking like one. But no, I looked exactly like all the other Changelings in my dream: blue crescent eyes, a black body with a small navy blue shell on my back, and silky wings that were so thin they were translucent.
All in all I looked... not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, I looked pretty darn good. I spun around and gave my wings a flap to get a more complete view. Yeah, not bad at all. My body was slick and my fangs were fierce. I was a truly elegant parasite. It was a real shame I would have to stay disguised pretty much all the time, what with there being all these ponies around. They wouldn’t appreciate my looks.
Are you...? You’re actually doing this right now, aren’t you?
Yes, definitely a shame, but admiring myself wasn’t going to get me anypony's love any time soon. Instead, I turned away from the mirror and began rummaging through my saddlebags. I took out the last of the dried meat—I hadn’t been physically hungry since I’d absorbed all that emotion from the slaves, but I liked its taste—and The Wasteland Survival Guide, and sat back down on the bed. I finally had some time to read through this, and I wasn’t going to waste another minute. If anything was going to help me to survive it would be this book. I popped a block of meat into my mouth and opened it up.
“The Wasteland Survival Guide. By Ditzy Doo,” it began, “Chapter 1: Making Use of Absolutely Everything...”
* * * * *
“...and that’s it! I know it’s not much but hopefully it will help you live a bit easier. Thanks for reading!”
“P.S. I’m working on another book. One about the history of Equestria before the war, and my goal in writing it is to figure out what exactly happened back then. Even though I was there, I've never really understood everything that happened. I’m not one of the smart ponies, unfortunately. So please, if you find any recordings, papers from back then, or anything else like that that will shed some light on what happened, bring them by New Appleloosa if you have the chance and I’ll pay you a lot for them! I’ll also put your name and story into the book if you want. Any little bit helps. Thanks!
“P.P.S. For those ponies who are curious, I’m thinking of calling the book What Went Wrong. It’s got a nice ring to, don’t you think?”
I closed the Survival Guide and rubbed my eyes with a hoof. It had been very helpful, but reading it all in one sitting had been a strain. Working through sentences and paragraphs was a lot harder than only having to read a few words on a sign, but I had forced myself through it, and I had learned a lot. Scavenging, radiation, Taint, pre-war technology, basic first-aid, how to make mines... There were also many useful tidbits about weaponry. I now knew that the gun Boss had used was a ‘shotgun,’ the one I had strapped to my leg was a ‘pistol,’ and that the armor I wore was actually called ‘barding.’ It was a good thing none of that had come up before. Knowing the lingo was crucial to fitting in.
I put the book back in my saddlebag, and next took out my weapons. I spent a good while trying to familiarizing myself with how they functioned and I found my hooves moving with some muscle memory. So I'd definitely used guns before. I kept getting more and more curious about my past. As I worked I managed to disassemble the rifle, but I broke part of its firing mechanism when I tried to put it back together. However, it hadn’t had any bullets and I wasn’t quite sure how to fight with it anyway, so it wasn’t the biggest loss. I had better luck with the pistol, though. I successfully swapped out a few parts that looked rusty for newer ones from the rifle. As for the blade on the rifle’s top, when I tried to pry it off I discovered that it had been welded to the barrel. That seemed like a pretty dumb feature, but it forced me to think of some other way to make it useable. I figured out that I could twist the right strap of my saddlebag around the rifle when I put it back on, making it into a side-mounted spear.
A pistol, a knife, a spear, and my fangs. Pitiful armaments for the Wasteland, especially when compared to the canons and grenade launchers of the Steel Rangers, but they were all I possessed. However, if I was lucky, and if I played my cards right, I would never have to use them. Deception and cunning would be my greatest weapons. My only real tools for survival.
Feed.
Hunger. That great need wormed its way into my mind again. I needed love. I needed to feed. The only problem was... where to start? I hadn’t noticed any couples when I was with Cathode or Spare Parts, and I was pretty sure I couldn’t just waltz up to anypony in Bulbs and get them to love me. The only thing I could think of doing was to just go out, wander around the facility, and see what happened. Observe, find an opportunity, and then strike. Yes, good plan. But, who to disguise as? It would be stupid to go out as Tumbleweed again, and I didn’t want to chance disguising as any of the other slavers, so that left me with either someone else from Bulbs or one of the ponies from Chard, or—ah-ha!
Bright Lights. Why hadn’t I thought of him first? He was the complete opposite of Tumbleweed: he worked for Garlic, so I wouldn’t have to worry about my safety, probably hadn’t been a slaver, so I wouldn’t have a bad reputation, and was dead, so there wasn’t even the remote chance that I’d run into him. It was perfect! I smiled, and focused my magic. Nothing happened. I frowned in confusion, and tried again. I thought of his coat color, his face, his Cutie Mark—which I remembered all too well—but no matter how hard I tried nothing happened. No flash of green. No sudden change. No disguise.
Why? Why didn’t it work? I quickly tested myself. Could I still disguise as Tumbleweed? Yes. Boysenberry? Yes. Spare Parts? Yes. Cathode? Yes, even though I’d never caught a glimpse of her Cutie Mark (it turned out to be a baton). I could disguise as all of them, but not Bright Lights. Why not him?
Dead.
Then it occurred to me: I could only disguise as ponies who were alive. That made sense. All the ponies I had just tried were alive, while Bright Lights was not. I growled softly to myself. This was inconvenient. Very inconvenient.
You have no idea.
But at least I had a better understanding of my powers... Oh well, back to the drawing board, maybe I could—? There was a knock at the door. I froze, ears swerving toward the noise. Who could that be? It must be somepony coming for Tumbleweed. It was the only reason anypony would be here! My luck had already stretched to the breaking point with him. There was no way I could have gone completely unrecognized yesterday. The knock repeated itself. I prepared to leap upon the pony who entered. If I could take them down fast enough I could probably escape without anypony else noticing—
“Mr. Tumble? You in there?” It was Spare Parts. I mentally slapped myself for being so paranoid and dawned Tumbleweed’s face without another pause. I opened the door.
What are you doing? Don’t disguise as him!
“I’m here,” I said. She looked the same as she had the day before, but now she was wrapped in an odd sort of cloth that obscured most of her features. I wouldn’t have recognized her had I not already been expecting her.
“G-good morning Mr. Tumble. I hope I didn’t interrupt you or n-nothing...” She fidgeted her hooves a bit as she spoke. She was quite the odd one.
“Good morning. What’s the cloth for?”
“Oh, this? Ih-it’s for my job. I work in the g-generator room sometimes, so I need to wear this cloth. It’s enchanted to dissipate voltage... or something. It protects me from electricity. And, uh, a-actually, that’s kinda the reason I stopped by: I wanted to ask if you’d like a job, seeing as you’re out of w-work and all...”
“A job?” I didn’t need a job. More caps wouldn’t give me love. Food and drink, maybe, but with love I wouldn’t need those. At least I was pretty sure that’s how I worked...
“Yeah. I work for Mr. Wattson, you s-see. H-he’s the pony who keeps the generator running, and he’s always l-looking for more ponies to help him keep the lighting system up and r-running. It’s mostly just repair stuff. E-easy to learn, and there’s a-always plenty to fix. So, would you be interested?”
I wasn’t, but she was giving me a hopeful look, and I figured that if there was any chance for me to milk her for more emotion I should take it. I decided to take up her offer, and she was very happy that I did. That was tasty but not filling, and moreover it was unnerving.
“Why are you still helping me?” I asked her as we walked out of the stairwell into the marketplace; she needed to pick up a few things before she could introduce me to her boss. On the way down, she had tried to start conversation with me, but since I wasn’t actually Tumbleweed all I could offer were superficial answers and lies that went nowhere. In the resulting silence her kindness nagged at me until I couldn’t contain my curiosity.
“What?” she asked, frowning.
“Tum—We enslaved you. Did terrible things to you. Almost killed you. But then you show me a place to stay, and now you’re helping me get a job. Why?”
“W-well, because you saved me.” She gave me a sad look. “You did terrible things, things I can’t forgive, but you also did something good. You were a bad pony, Mr. T-tumbleweed, but you saved us, and that means you’re trying to be good. I don’t want you to stop now that you’ve started, so I want to do what I can to help you start over as a good pony. I believe everypony deserves a s-second chance if they’re truly willing to change.”
“Well, thank you for your kindness, but that’s... incredibly naive.” Was it really? I had no idea, but that felt like the right thing to say. All I’d seen from ponies so far was hate and apathy.
“W-well, maybe, but it’s what I believe.”
“Hmm.” We didn’t speak about it further, and I followed Spare Parts absentmindedly through the market as she bought her things. So she was idealistic, and intent on helping. That was excellent. If I kept on being a ‘good pony’ and doing helpful things then I might be able to get get her to love me... eventually. That was a long term plan, but it never hurt to plan ahead.
Right now though, I still needed to focus on getting something quick. I surveyed the marketplace, my eyes darting around each stall and pony. Still not much. Another Berry Wears, a couple of Steel Rangers, and a pair of foals who darted through the legs of a vendor they’d just stolen from, but nothing more interesting. No lovebirds of any sort.
Now change before they find you more interesting.
Spare Parts was finished with her shopping, and we trotted out of the market into the vapid steel hallways. Time to see what work this Wattson had for me.
As we walked through the facility I found that the whole west side, excluding what I’d seen of the top floor, was practically abandoned, and most of its hallways were dark and light bulb-less. All the rooms we passed on this side were empty, picked clean by generations of thorough scavenging. The only things that remained were grafitti and the occasional motivational posters that still clung to the walls, preserved by some old spell. They all said the same basic thing: “The work you do here serves all of Equestria!” or some other such inspirational phrase. Most had pictures of ‘average’ worker ponies either smiling at their station on an assembly line or posing confidently above a bin of harvested grain. A unique one stood out, however. A poster with the words “We can do it!” above the image of an orange earth pony with blonde hair and freckles who stood proudly in front of a line of Steel Rangers.
Applejack. One of them.
Applejack. The sight of this mare angered me, raising more memories of death and defeat, and I tore it from the wall without a second thought, smashing it underhoof. Spare Parts gasped.
“What the hay was that for?”
“I... it’s personal. She reminded me of somepony I hate. Sorry.” She gave me a worried look, but we moved on without further discussion.
A few minutes later I almost did the same thing to a poster that said “Pinkie Pie is watching you FOREVER!” but that time it was because the mare it portrayed was staring at me with a smile that was just creepy. Much creepier than a motivational poster had any right to be, as Spare Parts put it.
She used to be such an amusing one before she went insane... but that’s beside the point. You need stop being a wanted pony before somepony recognizes you.
It was a short while after that when we finally made it to the generator room. Here it was that all the wires strung throughout the facility converged into one massive snaking column. They lead into the room, and the lights they connected to ended abruptly at its entrance, leaving the rest of the hallway in darkness.
What are you doing? Can’t you hear me?
“Here we are,” said Spare Parts as she stepped through the doorway. I followed her in, and as I did I felt the charge in the air start to raise the hairs on my body. A pony stood atop a large cylindrical machine that dominated most of the room and filled it with a high whirring. He wore the same magical cloth as Spare Parts underneath a saddlebag overflowing with various implements. Several computer terminals were set up in the room. Most of them were dark and pillaged but a few still displayed some incomprehensible readings.
The stallion was busy tinkering with the machine as we entered, so all I could see of him was a few patches of an electric blue coat beneath the layers of old cloth and a bright yellow tail that wagged in the air as he worked. Its color matched that of the tape that held the chord of wires in place on the floor as they attached themselves into the machine.
“Hello Mr. Wattson!” Spare Parts called out above the machine’s whirring, “I found an-nother pony who can help with repairs and whatnot.” She flashed me a smile as the stallion paused in his work and turned an ear back toward us.
“Really? Well praise Celestia! Who is he?” His words were raspy, dry, and somewhat garbled by the wrench he held in his mouth. As he turned around I saw that most of the hair on his muzzle had been burned away, replaced by scar tissue. It made my lips hurt just looking at it.
“My name’s Tumbleweed—” I started. The moment I said that name Wattson’s eyes went wide. He let out shocked screech and hurled the wrench at me before I could react. It smacked me right between the eyes, and I froze briefly before crumpling to the floor. My world went black.
I finally get a moment of clarity and you waste it by not listening!
...please... don’t get yourself killed again...
...oooOOO===OOOooo...
I landed in a bush, scratched up but alive. Whatever magic had purged us from Canterlot also prevented us from dying upon impact all those miles away. I lay there for a moment in a daze as everything that had just happened sank in. So close... so close... I reached out to my siblings, hoping to find comfort in their midsts, but all that met me was an emptiness. No other minds were there. I shoved myself up, a chill of fear sweeping through me as I realized that I was cut off from the rest of the hive; we must have become scattered in the explosion. I looked around. Unfamiliar vegetation surrounded me. I was in a jungle, probably somewhere south of Equestria... beyond that I did not know. I was alone. Lost. Cut of from the hive. Cut off from my Queen—
My breath came in gasps. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. Where was my Queen? She would fix this. Please let her find me. The silence in my mind grew deafening. I needed my brothers, my sisters, my Queen. Where were they? Where was she? Help, please, I—
...my Queen, help me...
Another changeling? Maggy! My panic vanished as I recognized her, and I leaped toward the source of her call. As I ran I swept my mental tendrils around once more, hoping to find another, but none appeared. It did not matter. One was infinitely better than none at all.
“Maggy!” I shouted as I reached her, “I’m so happy you’re—” I stopped when I saw her. Her landing had not been as gentle as mine. I could see from some scrape marks and debris that she had crashed into a tree on the way down. Her right foreleg was clutched to her side in pain, probably broken, and her left wing hung limply at her side, shredded by the branch she had hit. “Mother help us...” I whispered.
“It... doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks,” Maggy said, pained, “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought I was alone at first and I...” She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering. “I was so scared that I was alone...” I nodded. We had both felt the same despair and sadness. We grew together, hunted together, fed together. We did not want to be alone. It was a terrible thing to be alone. But we were not alone now. Now we had a chance.
Maggy could not walk nor even hover, so we had no other options but to have me carry her. It took some effort, but I was able to levitate her onto my back. I took a moment to rest after the exertion. Our magic was weak right now. We had not had a large meal in quite a while.
“Canterlot would have been our meal,” Maggy muttered.
“I know,” I replied, “But we will never have a good meal again unless we get back to the swarm. Do you have any idea where the rest are?”
“Maybe...”
She had managed to catch a glimpse of the others falling to a place to the northwest, so that was the direction we set out in. It was slow going, and whenever we encountered a hill I had to rest quite a while at the top of it, but I managed to carry Maggy without much trouble. Until I heard the roar. It came as we were walking through a particularly dense part of the jungle. The underbrush rubbed against my legs as I walked, and as soon as I heard the terrifying sound I froze. I panted loudly through my nostrils in the muggy air as I listened for any other noise.
There was a squelching sound to my left, and I jumped out of the way only a moment before something huge leaped through the leaves of a large bush. Maggy fell off my back with a suppressed scream, and I leaped into the air as I turned to see what had attacked us. Its claw swept through the space I had been in a moment before, and my eyes widened when I saw it.
The beast was a fusion of creatures. It had the face of a lion, but with green nostrils and reptilian eyes and blue fur that went back to its torso. The rest of it was coated in purple scales, and its tail made a cracking sound as it whipped through the air. It roared and leaped up at me, and I dropped beneath it, aiming for Maggy, but it slashed a paw downward. Though my natural armor protected me from its claws I still hit the ground hard. In the few seconds I had to spare I lowered my head and tried to roll Maggy back onto my back, but I wasn’t fast enough. The beast slammed into me, and its claws sunk into my sides. I screamed and jerked around as we tumbled forward, managing to wrench them out of me as we came to a stop.
I rolled to my feet, but streams of green poured out my sides, and I felt weak; sluggish. Those claws had gone deep—they glistened with my blood. The beast came back slower this time, seeing my injury and knowing he had the advantage. I tried to out maneuver him, or at least draw him away from Maggy, but he was too quick. I tried to juke him; he slapped me back. I tried to bite him; he retreated faster than I could attack. I tried to fly up; the pain in my sides drove me down. The dense brush did nothing to help me in this fight.
Quickly he drove me back to Maggy. As a final effort, I summoned up my magic and spat a glob of phlegm at him, but he chewed through the green prison even as it formed around him. He slashed at me again, and I was not fast enough to dodge. I fell down next to Maggy, beaten. I was too tired to try any more. Too hurt. My blood was everywhere now. Green coating green vegetation. Making it glisten ever so slightly. I couldn’t hear anything but my breath.
I’m sorry, Maggy.
No, I’m sorry—
The beast was over us now, baring his teeth for the kill. I struggled to see clearly. My vision was getting spotty. Something happened. A green splatter. Then a sudden sizzling sound. The beast howled, clutching at its face and turning around. Another green splatter. Another sizzle. Another howl. The beast ran, its flesh burning where it had been struck by the acidic ooze.
Fugax...
“I’m here,” he said. His voice was near, and suddenly I felt my strength return. “Here. This is for you two.” Love energy flowed into me, restoring my sight and closing my wounds. I gasped as the rush hit me, and sprung up onto my feet. I hugged Fugax without thinking. He patted me on the back and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, brother, you’re safe, and the Hive is near.”
“Thank you,” I heard Maggy say. I broke the hug and turned back to her. Her leg was healed, but the energy had not been enough to fix her wing. But that was okay, we were together. We were okay now.
“Where are they?” I asked. “Where did all that love come from.” Such good love... such delicious power. Fugax smiled mischievously.
“You needn’t savor it, brother, there is plenty more.” Images flashed through our minds. The Queen had landed. She was enraged. The Hive was enraged. But they found themselves in a strange place. Love. Love everywhere. A land of bunnies who did nothing but spread happiness and joy. They welcomed the Hive without a second thought. They were kind. They were loving. They were delicious. Maggy and I smiled. We might have lost Equestria, but we had stumbled upon a bounty. We would no longer desperate for food. Now the Queen plotted revenge.
Oh yes, my changelings, we no longer need to conquer for love. Now we conquer for power!
My heart fluttered at the sound of my Queen’s voice. She filled our minds with images of sweet revenge. Of power unending. Of a feast everlasting. Yes, we may have been defeated, but we would make those ponies pay!
...oooOOO===OOOooo...
I woke to a throbbing head and a tightness around my neck that had me continually on the verge of gagging. The first sensation was no doubt from that wrench I’d taken to the face, but the second surprised me. I panicked as I tried to looked down and feel what was around my neck, and I panicked more when I realized it was a bomb collar. How desperately I wished this life were the dream and not my foggy memories.
“Hey Onion, Tumblefuck’s awake.”
The voice made me focus on my surroundings. I was on the ground, in a hallway I didn’t recognize—though they all looked the same here, so that point was moot—and in addition to the collar I could feel the weight of shackles around my hooves. In front of me I could see a smirking mare. Her coat was a dirty velvet, and her form was bulky and imposing. She had a rifle on her back and two shotguns strapped to her sides, while a pistol bobbed loosely in her magic. I heard the pony she had been speaking to reply from somewhere behind me.
“Is he? Good, now you won’t have to drag his sorry ass all the way back, Morning Bell.”
I managed, with much loud clanking, to roll myself over and see who had spoken. It was a ginger-orange stallion wielding a battle saddle, and he was talking to Wattson. We were only just outside the generator room. Apparently I hadn’t been out long enough for them to move me very far.
“What about the girl?” Wattson barked. I saw from his expression that the conversation they had been having had not been a pleasant one. “Yer gunna take away one of mah workers and still not give me shit fer hoofin’ this bastard to ya?” He flicked a hoof at me as he spoke, but didn’t even bother to look in my direction.
“Look, old man,” Onion said, “I don’t care what you say, she tried to stop both us and you from taking Tumbleweed back to Garlic. If she survives then she can work again, if not we’ll give you another worker for your... ‘assistance’ in his capture. Now get back to work before we suffer another power outage.”
“Aw, fuck you! Ah keep this damn place lit and nopony so much as thanks me fer it!” I didn’t hear the rest of his rant. I was distracted by the sight of Spare Parts. I noticed her only after Onion had mentioned her trying to defend me. Her body lay just inside the generator room, only her legs and saddlebag visible through the doorway. Around her I could see blood slowly pooling and staining the cloth she wore dark red. I was shocked. They had shot her. She’d... had she really tried that hard to save me? She didn’t even have a weapon. She really was an idealist...
Or she’s having a sever case of Stockholm Syndrome.
I guess that was a possibility too... Wait. Where did that voice come from?
...you mean you haven’t been hearing me this whole time!?
What? Hearing? Who is—?
“Hey, Tumblefuck! Ain’t ya listenin’?” I yelped as the mare kicked me. I craned my neck back to glare at her but that only resulted in another kick. I was starting to hate this pony. “Now come on, get up! We ain’t got all day.”
I obeyed. Before I could wonder about the fate of Spare Parts or what agreement Wattson and Onion had come to I was pulled forward by a tug from the unicorn’s magic. She marched me back through the facility, the orange stallion following close behind. I was naked except for the shackles and the bomb collar, which did not let me breathe comfortably. The absence of my saddlebags set me more on edge. Did Onion have them? Had Wattson stolen them? I didn’t know.
Again I found myself in the marketplace, but this time I was unable to pass by unnoticed. Ponies stared with uncaring eyes as Morning Bell led me to the large gate. A few looked at my collar with concern, but after glancing at who was escorting me they went on with their life. Something told me I wasn’t the first pony to wear a bomb collar around here.
When we reached the gate, Morning Bell barked at the guards to open it, and they obeyed without a second thought. They cranked the massive door open with a great clattering sound, and once again I was faced with the desolation of the Wasteland.
We walked straight; toward the hills I had spotted a day earlier. As we neared them I was left with nothing else to do but worry. What would happen to me? Would Garlic kill me? Would I be a slave? Would I be forced to do… whatever it is ponies do as slaves? Ghastly images dredged themselves from the recesses of my amnesic mind, and I knew then and there that a life of slavery would be nothing but short and brutal. I needed to escape. I needed to get out of this body and never go back. Spare Parts was dead; there would never be another reason to put it back on.
We were alone out here. It was just me and these two ponies. Morning Bell was walking easily in front of me. If I could get the drop on her, then I could probably take out the stallion behind me without suffering any serious wounds. I still had the surprise of flight and fangs on my side. Yes, this could work! Except…
The weight of the bomb collar pressed down upon me. No matter how fast I was, I couldn’t incapacitate my captors before they blew my head off. I lowered my head in resignation. I hadn’t seen Morning Bell with any sort of trigger, but that just meant Onion probably had it. That made sense. That was probably why he was walking behind me. He could kill me before I so much as turned around.
I was hopeless. I was going to die, I was sure of it. Die or be worked to death, just like that one slave had said happened to ponies under Red Eye, whoever he was. I could see no way out of this that wasn’t death.
* * * * *
The first I saw of Garlic’s Plantation were the watchtowers. Two stood at its entrance, built as part of the wooden fence that surrounded this massive compound. The fence was at least as long as Bulbs was, and it stretched even further back into the hills. More towers were at each corner, and I could glimpse a few placed haphazardly inside. They weren’t particularly tall, but they stood out because they were the most obviously reinforced. The fence looked sturdy, to be sure, but it was only made of wood. The towers were constructed from a patchworks of metal plates and old rail tracks reinforced by many steel rods.
I saw ponies aiming guns at me from those towers as we approached the main gate. It was of simple make: just wheels put on a split section of fence with more ponies standing guard in front. I heard them make a few snide comments about my fate as we passed by, but I tried my best to ignore them. I didn’t want to hear about what sort of tortures I might go through. My mind was providing enough paranoia fuel as it was.
The inside of the compound was surprisingly bare. Most of it was an open field filled with rows of crops in various stages of growth, some of which were blooming flowers. Their bright colors were in sharp contrast to the ponies who tended them. Many had bomb collars as I did, but some only had shackles, and a small few worked unencumbered. The guards in the towers watched all of them. The only flat land that wasn’t being used as farmland was the road we were walking on. It split the plantation down the middle and ran straight back into the hills, where I could see the cluster of buildings I was being lead to.
There were more guards there, lollygagging at their posts, and they reacted the same as the ones at the gate had, except for one pony. He must have recognized me, because he kicked me in the stomach as I passed by. I collapsed to the ground in pain. It hadn’t been that hard of a kick, but I hadn’t been expecting it at all. After a painful prod from Onion I pulled myself back up with a whimper, eliciting some laughter from the guards around me.
Finally, Morning Bell lead me through the door of the largest building, and after a short march through a hallway we arrived in what I could only think of as a poor king’s court. Four pillars held up the room, and on each was an old rotted skull that looked down on whoever was in the center. Two guards sat in front of a raised platform at the back that held a decaying wooden throne whose top was adorned with dried stems of lavender. A few polished guns and swords had been mounted on the back wall, along with another skull, but the presence of so few odd trinkets only made the room seem sparser.
An ugly brown carpet had been rolled out on the ground before the throne, serving as a stage for whomever had audience with the pony sitting there. Garlic. The moment Morning Bell lead me into the room he stood up from his seat, smiling gleefully. He was... smaller than I had expected. With the way Bright Lights and Cathode had talked about him, I thought he would be imposing; impressive; somepony with obvious power and charisma. Maybe the drabness of the room was hurting my first impression, but as I met eyes with him I could only think of how unassuming he looked. Bland, even.
The unicorn wore a spotty white mane with a cream coat, had faded magenta eyes, and had a Cutie Mark that matched his name. That was all.
“Well, look who we have here!” I now stood on the stage before him, and he grinned widely down at me from his seat. Morning Bell and Onion had taken up flanking positions around me. There was no way I was getting out of this now. “I’ve been looking forward to this day, Tumbleweed. I don’t think you appreciate what you’ve done to me.” He had no idea.
He paused as if expecting an answer. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
He continued, “You raid my stores, ruin my crops, kill my guards... why, you nearly cost me a good fraction of last season’s harvest thanks to your little outburst. But it’s the fact that you got away that really did it, you know?” I didn’t. I couldn’t really follow anything he was saying. I was just confused. Confused and terrified at what this pony might do to me. How he might hurt me. “You humiliated me, Tumbleweed. You made a fool out of my organization, and I don’t like that sort of thing.” He stopped smiling then, and his guards started to close in on me. My pupils shrank. All the bad thoughts I had on the way here resurged.
“I should stop wasting my breath,” he said, his voice was no longer mocking. Now it was cold and malicious. “You were an embarrassing mark on my record, but nothing more. Now you won’t even be that.” His guards closed in, holding me still, and Garlic stepped down from his throne. Before I knew what was happening Morning Bell and one of the guards I didn’t know pulled me back onto my hind legs, allowing Garlic to buck me in the stomach for all he was worth. He was worth quite a lot, apparently.
I gasped in silent agony, clutching myself on the ground as I coughed up blood—from the way Onion backed away from the pool I could only assume they thought it was vomit. Garlic delivered another kick to my back, and then tried to stomp at my head. I hated being hurt and humiliated like this. I wanted to kill him. Kill him like I had killed that raider. I rolled feebly out of way and tried to rise to my hooves, but one of the guards pushed me back down. I heard Morning Bell laugh. I’d kill her too. Again Garlic raised his hoof to pulverize me, but as I raised an arm over my head in defense a voice cut through the room.
“Garly, darling!” it called. It was high and feminine. “Are you done yet? You’re supposed to be taking me out to the range by now!” It was also really whiny.
I managed to look up from where I lay on the ground, the voice having stopped Garlic’s attack, and saw the mare it belonged to. She was well groomed, a stunning shade of scarlet, and had Garlic’s full attention. He trotted up to her without a pause, giving her a nuzzle as he spoke. “I’m busy, dear. This will only take a few more moments. This is that Tumbleweed who robbed us last harvest, remember?” He turned back to smirk at me. “And now he’s going to work off what he owes us. For the rest of his miserable life.” The mare at Garlic’s side just giggled.
“Oh, him? Is that all? Well, Garly, hurry up. I’ve been bored all day. You know how much I hate that,” she said. Beside me I heard Onion groan under his breath.
“Don’t worry, dear, I’m almost done. Go out and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” He gave her a final nuzzle before she turned to go back out the side door she had come from.
I hadn’t been able to do anything but gawk at the couple for the duration of their conversation. Love. I felt love. Not just affection, real love. Garlic had radiated it when Tulip entered, sent it toward her in a torrent that was irresistible. I needed that love. Unfortunately, when Garlic saw my expression his good feelings vanished.
“Don’t you dare look at my precious Tulip like that!” he snapped. He gave me a few more vicious kicks before he finally felt satisfied. He stepped back with a chuckle as I lay curled up in pain, my brief excitement nullified. What was the point of this?
“Well, now that you’ve learned your lesson, I must thank you,” he suddenly said as Onion pulled me back to my feet, “For offing Bright Lights, that is. I’m pretty sure he was working for Silverbeet behind my back. Too bad you had to take out his brother, too, though. I rather liked that colt.”
With that, he trotted out after Tulip, leaving his guards to lead me limping back out the way we came. I didn’t think too much on Garlic’s last comment. I was too busy being in pain.
Feed.
But that didn’t matter, because now I finally had a chance to get some love! Revenge could wait. I wouldn’t kill Garlic right away. First I would suck out every last ounce of good feeling he’d ever had. My mouth watered as I thought of how delicious all that love would be. A real meal, after all this time! I couldn’t help but smile, even as Morning Bell locked me into a holding cell. I finally had a chance. I would finally be able to feed.
Feed!
* * * * *
I was not alone in the cell they threw me in, a stallion who was a lighter shade of grey than I lay in the back. He stirred when I entered, but did not talk until the guards had walked out of earshot. Immediately I started to scrutinize the whole of my confinement, vague plans about taking Tulip’s place already forming in my head. My earlier despair had vanished now that I was within reach of a good meal.
“If yer lookin’ fer a way out, you won’t find one,” the stallion said. He had bags under his eyes, and his flank was carved with scars. He sounded as beaten as he looked. “Trust me. Seen enough ponies try.”
“I’m not a pony,” I muttered without thinking. Luckily he didn’t seem to hear. “So, uh, how did you end up here?” I asked. I was curious about how Garlic got so many slaves. The ponies I’d met in Bulbs didn’t seem like they would tolerate such blatant cruelty on their doorstep. Or maybe I was just projecting old Equestrian morals onto them. That time was all I seemed to remember, anyway.
“Killed some buck who owed me caps. Turns out he was one a’ Garlic’s better guards—the old Garlic, not his whipped bastard of a son—so the fucker had me dragged up here t’ work. Been doin’ that ever since.” So this was the equivalent of a jail sentence. Interesting. The stallion sighed, letting his body sink back down onto the floor. “What’d you do?”
“I... you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” His laugh was a dry heave.
“Well, whatever you did couldn’t have been that bad; still got yer tongue.”
“My tongue?”
“Sure. Jr. usually cuts out yer tongue if you piss him off. Makes him seem scary.”
“Mm.” I guess I must have gotten lucky. Not that it would have hurt much in the long run, I could always grow it back again—wait, how did I know that? And how would I even do that?
More questions, and no way to get answers except maybe in my foggy dreams. I snorted in frustration as I pushed my nose through the bars of the cell. The bomb collar I could slip out of in a smaller form, but these bars would be too narrow to fit through, even as a foal. I pulled back, rested my head against a bar, and glared at the ground for a while before getting an idea.
“So,” I asked, turning to look at the buck on the ground, “What do you know about Tulip?” Since I was stuck here, I might as well use this time to try and get some information.
“What? Tulip? The hell do you care about her?”
“I’m curious. What’s she like? Garlic seemed to like her a lot.”
“You don’t say,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “That bitch has her dick so far up Garlic’s ass she could use him as a puppet. The bastard don’t care about anypony but her—like I said, the boy's whipped.”
How poetic...
“I... see...” I replied. I didn’t ask any more questions. I’d probably find out more if I spied on her for a bit. I just needed to get out of here first...
* * * * *
The building we were in was at the base of a hill, near the back of the plantation. From what I’d seen when they brought me here, this place was nothing but rooms of cells and guards. The cell we were in was the only one currently occupied, but I had a feeling we would get neighbors soon. It was getting dark.
My hunch was confirmed some time later, and I was left cramped in the cell with five more ponies, each jostling for a slightly more comfortable position on the ground. In the end, I was forced to sleep standing up, because I was the new guy. I could deal with that. I didn’t plan to be sleeping here for much longer.
I would feed soon.
Yes! Feed!
* * * * *
“—up! Get up, you lazy fuckheads!” A crack of lightning jolted me out of my sleep. I blinked in the early morning darkness, trying to see what was going on. Morning Bell stood in front of our unlocked cell, waving us forward with a floated shotgun. There was another crack of lightning, and I jumped when it struck, my eyes snapping to its source. Another guard stood at the end of the room, a whip held between a vicious grin. He cracked it a third time as we skirted past him, lead by Morning Bell.
“Sweet Celestia!” she cried, “Cut that shit out, Daffodil! Yer gunna take somepony’s fuckin’ eye out.” Both his grin and the whip fell immediately.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
Outside, the first light of day was barely creeping through the distant cloud cover. The air was cold and the dirt was damp, and my hoof squished down into a particularly soft spot as Morning Bell escorted us out to one of the fields. This one was full of yellow flowers. There was a cart there, full of empty jugs and barrels of what I assumed was water. Silently, the crowd of slaves made their way past the cart’s guards and began grabbing jugs for themselves. I looked back at Morning Bell, who was watching us with a sleepy expression. She caught my look and raised an eyebrow.
“What do I do?” I asked. She slowly rolled her eyes.
“Get a jug an’ water the rows. And kill any pests ya’ find.”
“Pests?”
“Yeah. Radroaches, gnats, those fuckin’ snakes.” She yawned. “That sorta thing.”
“Do I get, like, a hammer or something to deal with them?” I did NOT want any more snake guts on my hooves.
“Fuck no! You think I’m stupid? Now hurry up, these plants ain’t gunna grow themselves.” I was pretty sure that plants did grow themselves but I knew better than to correct her, and so I shambled forward without another word to start the watering.
* * * * *
The work was tiring. When I first saw the rows of crops, it did not seem like I would have much to do, but going back and forth between the water and the plants while constrained by shackles made it much harder than it should have been. My mouth ached from carrying the water jug for so long, and my hooves were grimey from the two roaches I’d had to squish. At least I wasn’t being shot at. I’d seen one of the other slaves get hungry and try to take a bite out of one of the flowers, but the guards in the watchtower had sent a bullet through his ear the moment he’d tried. His was coat still splattered with drying blood.
Worst of all, we did not get bathroom breaks. Everything reeked of manure.
At least the work had given me time to think. I needed to get out of sight for a moment—just a moment—and then I could escape. It wouldn’t be that hard. Change into a filly, slip out of these restraints, then change into a guard. I could see it in my head, but how could I do it? There was nowhere to hide out here... I would just have to hope for an opportunity...
No hope. Make your own opportunity.
As I made my way close by a guard tower I heard a noise. Faint music drifted down, and as I approached it grew briefly louder before it died down. From the silence it left a voice rose and said,
“Ah Sweetie Belle, her music truly is timeless, isn’t it? But enough of the old repeats—time for some news! Sad news, unfortunately. I’m sorry to have to report this, folks, but the Appaloosan Avengers are no longer with us. They went out slaying slavers just as they always did, and they took a damn good bunch out too, but the sad truth is they’re gone. We’ll miss ya’, Stock and Core.” There was a moment of silence. One of the guards coughed.
“So anyway,” the voice continued, “if you’re living near Applaloosa, you might want to clear out because there’s nothing keeping those bastards at bay any more. Stay safe, dear listeners and if you’re down south look out for Steel Rangers. There’s rumors that some are causing trouble way down there. Thanks for listening!”
As the speaker finished another song started, slow and mournful, and I continued down the row I was on before I got punished for stopping. I had realized about halfway through the speech that the voice had been coming from a radio, and also that I recognized it—DJ Pon3, whoever that was. I’d probably listened to him before, I figured. The song was familiar too. I was able to hum a bit of the chorus a moment before it started. Now if only I could remember something useful...
I would tell you if you would listen!
I stopped and jerked my head up, looking around. Had someone said something?
Yes!
I thought I’d heard a voice... Whatever. I shook my head to clear it and continued on. Maybe if I worked hard enough they would let me back into the cell early. I could probably take just one guard by surprise. I picked up the pace, trotting quickly back and forth instead of ambling along like most other ponies here. It didn’t speed things up enough though; there were just too many plants. Too many rows. Too much work. And I was getting antsy. Love was so close. It would be so simple. So simple to jump in as Tulip, feed off Garlic, and slink away. I just had to get free.
I never should have disguised as Tumbleweed. I should have ignored Spare Parts and disguised as somepony safe, like Boysenberry.
Should have listened... Can’t you hear me?
Again I thought I heard a voice, but again there was nothing when I stopped.
* * * * *
It was noon when we finally got a break. I lapped greedily at the trough of water they set on the road until I was pushed away. Though I had managed to sneak a few sips from the water jug as I worked, they had not been enough. I had been parched. I guess I did not depend on love as much as I thought.
I sat and panted, licking the last drops of water from my lips, when I noticed Morning Bell walking toward me. “You’re lucky, Tumblefuck, yer done t’day.”
“Done?”
“Yep. Onion wants ya in th’ kitchen. Now get, I don’t want mah dinner t’ be late.” She waved a pistol back in the direction of the buildings, and I started walking slowly back alone. When I was close enough, one of the guards there stopped me and demanded to know what I was doing. I told him what Morning Bell had told me and, after giving me an odd look, he showed me to the kitchen. I did not have an opportunity to jump him. The walk was short, and other guards were about.
“Good, she remembered,” Onion said when I entered. The other guard nodded to him before leaving, and then shut the door behind him. This was a large kitchen, with many sinks and stoves, but we were the only ones in it. Us and about a dozen sacks of potatoes slumped against the back wall. Excellent. I opened my mouth slightly in preparation to strike—
“What are you plotting?” The question floored me.
“What?” He... couldn’t know. Could he? Did he have a changeling sense or something?
“You. You waltzed back into Bulbs without even trying to disguise yourself, then hardly put up a fight when you get caught. I mean, shit, I thought I was going to have to kill you before we even got to Garlic. What the hell are you up to, Tumbleweed?” He was frowning at me, looking genuinely curious, but with his battle saddle aimed at my head.
“I, uh, I’m—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What... what did he think I could be doing as just a normal pony?
He didn’t speak for quite some time after I responded. I grew nervous.
Finally, he sighed. “Well, whatever. Keep your secrets. If you try anything we’ll kill you, but that wasn’t the reason I called you in here.” He gestured toward the potato sacks. “We just traded for bunch of these, and I figured that since they’re your special talent you’d be able to cook ‘em the best. Now, there’s supplied in the cabinets, so get started on dinner; some more cooks’ll join you in a bit. And don’t fuck up on purpose. Garlic might kill you for that. You know how uh... frivolous he is.” With that he trotted back to the door, keeping his eyes on me as he did. Before he closed the door he stuck his head back in and said, “Oh, and, fair warning, if you leave this kitchen before dinner time, you'll be whipped. And Daffodil's been itching to make scars for quite a while.” Then he left.
I glanced around my surroundings. Besides the threats of pain and death, I was actually in quite a good position. Without waiting I changed into one of the foals I’d seen running around Bulbs, shedding my guise of Tumbleweed along with the shackles and bomb collar it had bought me. Next, I disguised as one of the guards I’d seen at the front gate the day before, and then dumped my constraints into a large pot I found in one of the cabinets. That was easier than I’d imagined.
Now, to get that love.
I walked out of the kitchen, getting a curious look from the guard standing outside it, but I ignored him and began wandering through the Plantation’s buildings. I walked quickly, as if I had somewhere to be, and took in my surroundings. The building with Garlic’s ‘court’ was in the middle of this place, and the kitchen I’d come from was just behind it. The jail/slave pen was near the northwestern corner, and what I discovered was a barracks for the guards was at the compound’s opposite end. Not many ponies were here, and I could see why. It had beds, toilets, and not much else. This was not a home, just a pace to sleep.
Nearby, in an old shed, I found my saddlebags. They still had the Survival Guide and that strange orb I’d picked up, but my weapons were nowhere to be seen. Dammit. I really wanted those knives back. There were several other bags here. I looked through them, but I didn’t see anything I wanted. Also in the shed was rope, some nails, a few tools, and many other farming implements. Nothing that I could see helping me. I grabbed my bags and walked away before somepony came along and got suspicious.
Suddenly, I heard raised voices and general commotion from the direction of the kitchen. Somepony must have noticed Tumbleweed’s absence. Without waiting to see if I was right or not, I fled to the only place I knew nopony would look: skyward. With no one else around, I undisguised and leaped into the air, flapping rapidly up into the top of the barracks building. I crouched low and stayed near the center. There was no way I could be seen up here. It was a flat roof, and the watchtowers were too far away to see onto it.
I heard ponies run back and forth below me, their shouts confirming my assumption. I didn’t have much to do up here but wait until they calmed down—
Darkness.
—or until darkness came and I could safely move about. In fact, that would probably be the ideal time to replace Tulip. Find where she slept, drag her away at night, and then replace her by morning. Of course, that would still leave the matter of how to keep her out of the picture... I frowned, now regretting not taking that rope. Well then, that was the plan: Wait until night, get the rope, kidnap Tulip, then get love from Garlic. Simple, and straightforward. All I had to do now was wait.
...
...
Waiting was hard.
Bored, I dumped out the two contents of my saddlebags in front of me and started perusing the Survival Guide again. When I got tired of that, I started rolling the crystal ball between my hooves for a bit, wondering what it was.
Magic. Memories.
Magic? The word had popped into my head suddenly. I stopped rolling the ball and stared intently at it, focusing. If my dreams were any indication, then I had once known more spells than just disguising, and it would definitely help if I expanded my arsenal. Maybe I could try that spell from my dreams? No, my gurgling might make too much noise, and I’d leave a mess. Levitation, then? I furrowed my brow, imagining the ball lifting up into the air in front of me while channeling magic into my horn.
Nothing. I wasn’t do it right. I could feel my magic there, building up, but I couldn’t channel it around the orb. Maybe if I thought of it differently? Maybe if—
A gunshot broke my concentration. I dared to peek over the edge of the building’s top, and squinted past the light of the setting sun to see who was shooting. It was Tulip. She was at the edge of a clearing some distance behind the barracks, leaning over a table with a rifle between her hooves. She was aiming at a set of targets at the other end of the clearing—one of which was a hole-ridden old mannequin—and wagging her tail happily as she fired another round. I calmed down and moved back to the center of the roof. So that’s what she had meant by ‘range.’ Interesting hobby.
I returned to trying to coax magic out of myself, this time attempting to just turn one of Survival Guide’s pages, until night fell. I was not successful, but by then the ruckus of ‘Tumbleweed’s’ disappearance had died down. I now had the cover of darkness to sneak around undisguised. Excellent.
Feed.
* * * * *
As it turned out, my plan to just saunter in and ‘kidnap Tulip’ was not as straightforward as I first thought it to be.
First of all, I didn’t know where she slept, and when I tried to go sleuthing around the main building to find out I was stalled by the presence of a night guard standing at the front entrance. While I looked for some other way to get in, I was almost caught twice by two ponies who were patrolling this part of the plantation. Luckily the lamps they carried were dim, and I was able to sneak softly into the shadows before they could notice me.
However, after a while I did manage to find an unattended side door. Once I was through, I found that it lead straight out into the faux-throne room. Garlic, apparently, did not believe in home security. There were no guards inside, and I trotted quickly across the empty place down the hallway I’d seen him exit. I felt a faint soreness in my gut as I passed through.
The hallway itself split into two directions. One lead straight into a terrible-smelling bathroom, while the other lead to a hallway with a single window and a steel-reinforced door at its end. It was an odd security measure—the rest of this building was wood, so it would be easy to blow down a side wall and bypass the door entirely—but it told me what I needed to know: this was Garlic’s room. That, and the large wooden cutout of his Cutie Mark that hung above the doorframe. There was also a cutout of a tulip set beside it, but it was an obviously recent addition.
I tested the knob, finding it locked, and pressed an ear to the door, on the off-chance I might catch some conversation. I didn’t hear any talking, but I did catch a moan followed by a few muffled yelps and giggles. I was confused for a moment at what I was listening in on, but as soon as my mind decided to divulge that information I backpedaled as fast as I could while still making no noise.
Well then. I would be doing none of that as Tulip, no sir! Get love, kill the bastard, get out. No dilly-dally.
But that had left me in a predicament. Since the two slept together, that meant I couldn’t take her at night, and if I tried to capture her during the day, then I risked being discovered in the act. I sat at the edge of the hallway divide, trying to solve this problem, until I heard the door opening at the end of the hall. I retreated into the courtroom, crouching low to the ground. It was almost pitch-black in here. What little light spilled in from the window did not make it out very far.
A vague silhouette walked into my view, turning quickly toward the bathroom and banging the door shut after it. I crept quickly forward, making sure nopony else was coming from Garlic’s room. I pressed my ear to the bathroom door with baited breath, and my heart leapt when I head Tulip muttering to herself.
“...record, he says! As if—I swear, if it weren’t for the fact that the bastard’s my ticket to the easy life I would have left this disgusting place ages ago...”
Excellent! I didn’t wonder why a perfectly sane mare was expositing pointlessly to herself in the middle of the night, nor I didn’t care! She had just done the hard part of my job for me. Now all I had to do was knock her out when she came back out and drag her away. Then I’d have a whole day to suck up love—Excellent!
No. Memory.
Then an even better idea struck me. I slunk back into the courtroom, pressing myself against a wall, but placed the crystal orb I’d found at the very edge of the hallway. It gleamed in the window’s light just perfectly, and would catch Tulip’s eye just as it had caught mine when the raiders had used it. This would give me a greater advantage. If I had just stood outside the door, she might have had time to scream upon seeing me. Now she would be distracted. She wouldn’t see me coming at all.
I heard the door open only a few minutes later, and I prepared myself to pounce.
“Huh? What’s that?” I heard her say. Her hoofsteps neared, and I took in a silent breath. Just a few more feet. “Is this what—?” I caught a faint glow of magic from her horn, and suddenly she cut off. A moment later there were a pair of loud thuds, and the orb rolled out from the hallway. I leaped around, confused but ready to attack, and found Tulip sprawled on the floor, eyes open but unfocused. I stared in shock for a moment, looking from her to the orb and back again, before deciding not to waste this stroke of fortune and roll with what had just happened.
I placed the orb, which I now knew must be some sort of magical trap—thank the Queen I hadn’t been able to levitate it!—back into my saddlebags, and dragged the hypnotized mare out of sight before tying her up with the ropes. I was taking no chances here, and though the knots I made weren’t the greatest, I was confident they would hold for the day I needed. Quickly, I draped her over my back and snuck to the door. I had to time my exit perfectly, just when the patrol passed by. I managed to do so, but with the added weight of Tulip it was difficult to move both swiftly and silently. I barely made it to the fence before they came around again, but they didn't look my way. Again, luck was all that saved me.
With a great effort I flew both of us over the fence. I walked through the hills until I couldn’t make out the faint lights of the guards and then dumped Tulip in what was probably an old river bed. The journey had taken quite a while, and I was panting and sweaty by the time I got rid of her, but the flight back was a breeze, and the thought of all the love I would be getting pushed me onward. When I landed back in the compound, I was smiling with exhilaration. I stashed my bags on top of the barracks and then flew onto the main building. I waited for the guards to pass out of sight, then fluttered down and entered, disguising as Tulip.
This time, the door to Garlic’s room opened, and I saw him lying on a bed of hay, already fast asleep. I couldn't make out much else in the darkness. I curled up next to him, close but not touching. I wanted to wake him and eat, but my adrenaline rush was wearing off and I was shaky, sore, and dead tired.
Tomorrow, I would do it. First I would rest, then...
Feed.
Tomorrow I would get love. The very first thing. Finally!
Feed!
Footnote: Level up.
New Perk: Bookworm - You pay much closer attention to the smaller details when reading. You gain 50% more skill points when reading books.
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Very, very good.
I was beginning to think the story was discontinued, and I'm glad I was proven wrong.
Keep rocking on.
Kindly,
~Sinrar
I think making those inside heads dialogue smaller size + italic would be better than just italic
Oh this is looking good
2905794 Why? Just italics looks fine to me.
I'm disappointed that this story isn't nearly as popular as it should be, because it's great! Nice chapter, and keep up the good work!
Erm, what about Tumbleweed, then? He's still alive after being abandoned out in the wastes with multiple broken bones? Or can he only continue using a dead pony's shape if he changed into them right as they died?
*disguise
Good feelsy start to the chapter with the missing his hive thing.
Not being able to disguse oneself as any generic pony, or a dead pony? I suppose this is a balancing feature in their powers, so I'll hand you that. I wouldn't have thought of doing that myself however.
Ya know what? Me being me, I would've been straight about everything with Spare Parts by this point.
Explained I wasn't really him, that I wasn't the one who enslaved her but that I had saved her.
Massive emotion reward and possibly accepted despite being a 'monster'.
Not saying you're doing it wrong or anything, just what I personally would do in his situation.
OOoooooh, I get it. Those little messages are from the Queen and not some internal monologue. I wasn't sure which of the two it was.
Interesting history lesson and seeing Spare Parts being possibly dead is a shame.
I'm up to the line: 'The first I saw of Garlic’s Plantation were the watchtowers.' - though this is a bookmark of sorts for myself. Just being lazy about how I go about it is all.
Enjoying the chapter so far.
'The fence looks sturdy' looks, to me, sounds more of a dialogue choice of tense. Looked may be a past tense phrasing, but to me sounds more natural.
Preference, I know, but just a small suggestion. Ignore or consider it at your own leisure.
You know how much a I hate that,” - think you added an extra a there. Either that or its a weird speech mannerism.
I do find that the story is skipping a lot of moments that could potentially be utilised if expanded upon.
Such moments being times like when the protagonist changes into a filly then guard - or when there's a guard slowing down his plans at night. Things like that, ya know?
Might just be the way you want to handle things, the direction you're taking it in, but yeah. Could make for nice little moments if they had more detail.
I mean, there'd be more tenseness if we read about -how- he almost got caught twice rather than simply being told 'I almost got caught twice' but instantly knowing he didn't. Ruins any chance for suspense right there.
Glad to see the memory orb was used as a trap. Worked well and made sense. Well handled in how the protagonist should stealthily take down a target without killing them.
I have a theory that perhaps he doesn't need them to be alive as such, but rather, not know they've died?
Maybe.
Anyway, cool chapter and as before, eagre to see where it goes!
Juat a smal complaint......WHY U NO PUNCTUATION!?! WHYY!!! This is litterally written as one gigantic sentence with no periods commas or anything! Everything else you have written has at least been semi punctuated so far what the hay happened here bossman cmon! 2 lines in and my brain shut down!
