Marks of Harmony

by Lapis-Lazuli and Stitch

Sufficiently Advanced Technology

Gdocs Version
Marks of Harmony

Part 7

It was well within the early hours of morning, but Aurora Streak had not eaten. She was not an early riser like so many of the ponies from the Land of Red Dunes assumed her to be, and beyond that she rarely had anything even resembling an appetite until eleven o’clock. All that being said, Aurora had forced herself to wake earlier than her mind would have allowed on its own. Today was to be her great showing before these ignorant Equestrians; for her to plant the seeds of acceptance in their hearts and calm the fears of the Element of Magic.

As she snapped her blood-red bangles onto both her upper hind legs, Aurora reflected that while she had initially placed those two objectives in that order, she was no longer sure. Her experience with the masses—these were thankfully few—taught her that she could manipulate each individual by conforming the group. There were few ponies, even as far back as the original reign of Luna and Celestia, that would stand against their community. Unfortunately, Twilight Sparkle seemed to possess a fiercely independent spirit that would challenge any and all things were she not completely comfortable with them.

Aurora could not be sure where this independence came from. She knew nothing about Sparkle save her name and that she was the leader of the Elements as the Element of Magic. There was also the information she had revealed to Aurora in an attempt to establish her authority: that she was Celestia’s preferred pupil. Being raised by Celestia in Canterlot was likely the major influence, but Aurora reasoned that her small group of Element friends contributed to it as well. As it stood under Aurora’s mind, having so many privileged positions—along with being able to only truly associate with her friends—had produced in the unicorn a personality that was confident only in itself.

Of course, the source of the conflict—while an important gem of knowledge to be stowed away for later use—was of little consequence to the problem it generated. She needed the support of the citizens of the town if she was to direct their Ascension to her own goals. There was the intriguing possibility of manipulating their Ascension against their will, but Aurora was warded away from the idea by her two great mishaps in the area already. That experiment was for when she was firmly established. For now, she would need to stick with a process that she had perfected to the point that she could predict any end result.

But Twilight Sparkle would not simply fall into line with the general thinking no matter how positive it appeared. She was apprehensive of Aurora, and not without good reason. Aurora would not have trusted herself. Her options for swaying Twilight and consequently, the rest of the Elements, were severely limited. Greater truth could just as easily turn her away as bring her in. No, Twilight Sparkle was an analytical mind, and she had to be approached like a complex spell. There was a weakness in it, but not within the individual spells themselves. It was in how they were layered that the weakness, the flaw, would appear.

This mode of thought encouraged and occupied Aurora as she gathered her things. There were a great many parts to the demonstration, warranting the need for Aurora to hitch herself to a cart. Not only was it loaded heavily with the individually deconstructed parts for a Device, but also with a second fully built Device containing a spell most unicorns would consider simple to the point of being second-nature. Inwardly, she wished she had already found a way to build a cart fully powered by Devices. As of yet, such endeavors had been halted by the need for Devices to be of a particular size to work. She had calculated that an average sized cart, after being redesigned with Devices, would be as much as two times as large.

Aurora grumbled at this difficulty. Her technology could cure so many ailments of society, but they were not the most aesthetically pleasing or efficient of inventions. Still busy considering how best to infiltrate Twilight Sparkle’s thoughts with her own ideas, she casually tapped a pedal in the floor to open the door from her lab into the hallway. These musings were immediately cut short by the sight in the corridor. Chrysalis stood at the entrance, every Changeling on board the ship arrayed militaristically behind her. Each of their eyes was narrowed at her hatefully. Being somewhat shorter than the Changeling Queen, Aurora was forced to turn her head up to see Chrysalis’s face. She did not mind the necessity personally, but hated that it gave the queen satisfaction.

Only, satisfaction was the farthest thing from that displayed on Chrysalis’s narrow face. Her fangs were bared, her lower jaw trembling, and her eyes contracted to near slits: it was an expression of fury motivated by an incredibly powerful source. Aurora’s eyes widened uncharacteristically at the sight; even she shocked by the sudden display of force. “Atone for your sins,” Chrysalis hissed, now her whole body shaking in rage, “before I execute you in vengeance and take from you that which you are unworthy to hold!” Her threat was magnified as she and all of her Changelings sparked their horns with green magic, the offensive power attempting to overcome Aurora’s security field.

The threat alone put Aurora on the defensive. Chrysalis’s magics were disabled, true, but she was still a formidable opponent in a physical brawl. Without Devices, Aurora was competent in neither one. That did not even take into account all of the minions behind the queen. Overcoming the sensation of panic she had not felt in centuries, Aurora silently accessed her six red bangles. A simple shove of thought was enough for them to connect to their integrated counterparts. She withheld full activation for when Chrysalis became a true danger.

“Before making threats to me,” Aurora said blankly, her tone now even with the assurances of her bangles, “you should bring it to my attention why you are doing so in the first place.”

“Do not speak as if you are ignorant, you useless spawn of Tartarus!” Chrysalis swore in a roaring bellow. “You promised us happiness for our aid to your mission! You have only given us grief meant only for the lowest of Faust’s enemies!”

“You are still speaking in riddles,” Aurora Streak replied, now becoming impatient. “I still desire your assistance. What is it that has brought you to this extreme? I highly doubt it warrants such a response.”

“You speak so highly, and yet you understand so little,” Chrysalis growled, stepping to one side to allow two of her minions to carry forward the dried husk of a dead Changeling. “YOU LET A PONY FROM THIS ACCURSED TOWN SNEAK ABOARD YOUR SHIP TO MURDER ONE OF MY CHILDREN! You are not fit for command of any kind! Death will be your punishment!” Chrysalis reared back with a shriek, preparing to skewer Aurora clean through. The allicorn’s eyes and mouth shifted from one of confusion-born apathy to fierce retaliatory anger.

Before Chrysalis could come back down, Aurora sent her final command through her bangles. In less than an instant, dozens of Device nozzles pushed themselves from the center of their motifs. They hummed deeply with the deadly purpose of the power within them. With a roar of agony driven frustration, Chrysalis buzzed her wings to settle herself back where she had stood. “Good,” Aurora said, her tone and expression betraying her current disdain for Chrysalis’s attempt on her life. “Before you try to slay me next time, at least try to remember that this is my fortress, not yours.” She drew in a collected breath, changed tact, and said with as much empathy as she could muster, “Now, I know you must be horribly distraught, but try to look at this situation more rationally. Send the others away and repeat to me again what you said but in a more reasonable voice.”

She did not actually need Chrysalis to reiterate. Aurora Streak had heard her more than clearly the first time. She needed time to consider the implications; and part of her was in denial about the truth of the queen’s words. Chrysalis’s body maintained its shaking from cold fury, but she nevertheless chittered a string of Changeling words. The swarm cast their eyes up at her as they slunk away in groups, bewildered and astonished. “You are a despicable creature Aurora Streak,” Chrysalis hissed once her minions were well and gone. “You tread dangerous ground, depriving me of my vengeance with these cheap tricks.”

“My skills have always taken me down paths of a brittle nature,” Aurora retorted. “And how satisfying would your revenge be when you discovered that I was not responsible for the death of one of yours?”

“You may not have placed the hoof through his chest,” Chrysalis growled low, “but your naivety and lack of more efficient security was just as much a culprit.”

“Does security appear to be of any concern!?” Aurora could hear her voice rising despite her normally docile tones. “The death of any of yours is not due to any failure on my part but on yours! I cannot be on watch for all of my Devices at all times, for I trust no one but myself with their operation! If you wish to curb any further incursion by the ponies, alter the patrols of your Changelings!” Her full voice had now lent itself to her shouting, her wings straining against the harness of the cart, and her face mere centimeters from Chrysalis’s own.

“You forget that I am a queen!” Chrysalis roared back, slapping Aurora’s muzzle away with a hoof. It was a bold move, for if Aurora had not the steely control of her bangles that she did, the defensive Devices protruding from the wall would have incinerated Chrysalis. “While the sanctity of life may mean nothing to you, we cherish it! If you will not take greater measures to prevent infiltration, I will take my children and reveal ourselves to the town below. They may treat us as monsters, but they at least will respect that we are as much alive as them!”

“How did it die?” Aurora seethed, changing her topic and lowering her voice to its normal volume. There would simply be no winning this argument with Chrysalis. She was too short-sighted and too driven by the immediate accomplishment of her goals to see that not all would be spared in the rushing waters of Aurora’s new era. The best Aurora would be able to do at the moment would be to abate Chrysalis’s anger. Using the bangles every waking hour would drain her and inhibit the speed of her work, but if the increased security kept Chrysalis in line, it was a price she was willing to pay.

“What sort of a question is that?” Chrysalis asked. “No others were there when he was murdered.”

“Let me inspect the body and I can tell you how he died,” Aurora said, her weariness of the entire confrontation straining her voice. “Will that wet your desire for vengeance until the exact pony responsible can be determined?”

“Only if it will help in that endeavor,” Chrysalis said. Aurora nodded and bent her head to the dead Changeling. There was very little damage to the creature, outside of the death blow to its chest. It was an intriguing find, as it meant that whoever had been in combat with it had not been intending to kill it—at least not at first. The grievous wound itself was also curious. The force required to break a Changeling’s exo-skeleton was tremendous, and it was not one that could be accomplished by one hoof alone. The standard method would have involved bucking with both hind legs. Yet this one had been killed by a single hoof blow. Aurora carefully ran her hoof around the edges of the hole, and smiled in satisfaction as her assumptions were proven correct.

“This kill was an act of desperation,” she said, coming up to face Chrysalis once again. “Whoever killed it contacted the area once before making this injury. Also, it was with a front hoof, since there is only a single hole. It was an unplanned death, making the culprit all the more dangerous. Whoever they were, they were not trying to simply attack me for their own sake. This was the act of a spy attempting to avoid confrontation and gather information before being caught red-hoofed by your Changeling. You should be looking for a pony of a slim, but athletic build; probably a pegasus.”

“How does this help me find the murderer when we are locked away here?” Chrysalis asked, still upset by the death of one of her children, but calmed by the information Aurora had interpreted from the body.

“Before, I would have not done anything,” Aurora flatly admitted, “but this spy was working against me in more than the simple defiance of an ignorant villager. Whether alone or part of a group, they pose a threat to my already unsteady plan. You, Chrysalis, will now be able to hunt this pony and fulfill our contract to its fullest. After my demonstration, you—under a disguise of my choice—will join with Inky Jay to find them. Bear in mind that I do not trust you and him with this lightly, but that the scale of my plan limits my ability to guard all of its walls alone.”

“You wish me to go into Ponyville?” Chrysalis said apprehensively, and not with a little shock though she tried her best to hide it.

“Changed, yes,” Aurora repeated impatiently. “Inky Jay will be returning with me this evening. I expect you to have come up with some sort of place for you and him to begin by then.”

“I will only do this if you promise me one thing,” Chrysalis replied.

“Is what I have already done not enough?” Aurora chided. “You should also know that I have decided to maintain a constant connection with the House of a Thousand Fangs to increase the security as you have suggested.”

“I will offer the murderer no pardon,” Chrysalis practically ignored Aurora’s statements. “Should we find them, I will slay them with no inhibitions.”

“I would not see why I would not allow you that,” Aurora replied, thankful the request was one she could easily grant and had supposed Chrysalis would not have asked. “It is your right after all.”

“Then depart, and allow me to think,” Chrysalis said, stepping to the side to give Aurora room to pass to the lower decks and to the lift leading down into Ponyville.
______________________________________________________________________________

Rainbow Dash zig-zagged around the chimneys on the roofs of Barrel Street and its neighboring roads. It was still early enough in the morning that the ponies were not headed to Town Square for Aurora’s demonstration, but Rainbow was unsure if that would have been any better or worse than the current congestion. Rainbow’s spirits had been considerably lifted when she had been told that Applejack thought she was the type to hang around Barrel Street. She had rolled on the floor in laughter, imagining the disapproving stares of the ponies on the street should she have invaded their ‘territory’. Rainbow stayed well away from Barrel Street and all of its surrounding homes and shops. The music was of a very specific taste—being far from her own—and the atmosphere of the area held a sense of somber philosophy. She could consent she was laid back and often times outright lazy, but these ponies seemed to lack any sort of impassioned energy. As much as Rainbow napped and dozed when she should have been working, she was equally fervent when her race training or any kind of competition was involved. The ponies of Barrel Street were just too monotone for her.

That being said, the ponies out and about strolled along at a snail’s pace, and those sitting outside cafés moved less than the statue of Discord. On the one hoof, this made Rainbow Dash’s job of picking out Inky Jay marginally easier. He would probably be the only pony moving with anything close to a decent speed. But just as much, the ponies below were blurring into a singular mass. She could easily miss him at that rate, but Rainbow had long professed that she only had one minimum speed: fast. There was of course Fluttershy, who haphazardly tried to follow Rainbow’s erratic flight path. She moved through the sky at the same speed a unicorn or Earth pony trotted on the ground, taking greater care with her examination of Barrel Street.

Rainbow Dash glanced behind her, realized she was pulling too far ahead of her friends, and whipped back around for the third time to check in on them. The wind in her wings began to fly through them with more tension the lower she descended, and with a mere two beats, she skidded to a halt next to Twilight. She had barely begun matching her trot when Applejack and Rarity broke off into inns on either side of the street. “Any luck?” Rainbow whispered in Twilight’s ear.

“No,” Twilight said normally, “and you don’t have to whisper. The ponies here don’t care what we ‘young people’ have to say. All they want is a good commission.”

“You mean they’re ignoring my awesomeness on purpose?” Rainbow asked incredulously, glaring around at what few ponies she could make eye contact with.

“Yeah, if you want to put it that way,” Twilight said heavily. “How about your end? You see anypony that looks like him?”

“I couldn’t pick out Pinkie Pie on this street,” Rainbow Dash replied, still heated over being so blatantly passed over. “They all blur into this mass of color.”

“Be right back everypony!” Pinkie said abruptly, bouncing off in the direction of a couple of stallions playing a card game outside one of the many cafés.

“You could always try slowing down,” Twilight criticized Rainbow once again. “Or you could fly ahead and start searching the hotels at the end of the street. We could meet in the middle.”

“Toss the maps,” Rainbow agreed without a second thought, motioning for the paper with her hoof. “This isn’t gonna get me anywhere unless I fly like Fluttershy, which is just not going to happen.”

“Here you go,” Spike obliged her, extracting a few scrolls from Twilight’s bags. “These the right one’s Twilight?” The lavender unicorn hummed uncertainly while she gave them a quick glance, but eventually nodded her approval.

“The name of the hotel or restaurant is at the top if you need to use them,” Twilight said to Rainbow. “But you might not have to. Just ask the staff if they’ve—”

“Twilight, chill,” Rainbow cut her off. “I know how to ask questions. I’m not a filly.”

“Just do it with a touch of grace Rainbow Dash,” Rarity called out, coming out from the hotel she had been inspecting earlier. “You can’t be aggressive.”

“Why not?” Rainbow asked. “I won’t get decent answers if they think they can get away with lying.”

“Rarity, no it’s fine,” Twilight reprimanded the designer, surprising both her and Rainbow. “Dash, do whatever you have to do to move through as quickly as possible. If that means you have to shout at them, so be it. You don’t come around here anyway, so it’s not like you’ll see them again anytime soon.”

“Yes!” Rainbow pumped her hoof. “I’ll have that end of the street swept for this guy: ten minutes tops.” Without waiting to hear what would have been further reproach by Rarity, Rainbow turned tail and accelerated into the sky and down the lane. Now building to a faster pace than before, she smirked as her wind-whipping speed and trademark rainbow streak drew disapproving gazes from the ponies she flew past.

Even if Barrel Street was famous for its musical and artistic touch, its cramped nature was due in no small part to its relatively short size. Rainbow was at the other end in little under two minutes, her hooves scraping against the cobblestone as she slowed to a skidding landing. After a quick glance of her surroundings, Rainbow boldly strutted into the nearest inn. At least, it said it was an inn on the outside. Rainbow personally felt it was little more than a house with an addition for business. She had stayed in ‘real’ inns and hotels before—both in Canterlot and Cloudsdale—and she could assuredly say she preferred this place to those cold, formal lodgings.

Though the lobby area had a definite Earth pony style—paintings of landscapes and animals on the walls and wooden furniture with only minimal metallic decor—it was far more comfortable than something artificial. Thus, Rainbow Dash felt quite at ease coming up the counter. “Oi, you there,” she said to the attendant behind the desk. “I need to ask you something.” The mare jolted up immediately, a smile lighting her features. It was not the kind that was usually plastered on the faces of hotel attendants; she was genuinely happy to see somepony.

“What kind of room can I get you dear?” she asked, already eyeing the room keys in anticipation.

“Um, I’m not here for a room,” Rainbow Dash said blankly. “I just need some info.” The mare’s face fell, her eagerness dissipating with the revelation that Rainbow was not a patron.

“Well, what can I tell you?” she sighed, eyes becoming markedly depressed.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rainbow asked uncomfortably. “It’s not like you’ll never have another customer today or anything.”

“Are you sure?” the mare asked sardonically. “Ever since that field went up around Ponyville, inns like this one have lost all but the richest patrons. Guests are having to relocate to cheaper places, and we’re suffering for it. So you’ll excuse me if I seem a little crestfallen that you aren’t here to book a room.”

“Sorry about that,” Rainbow said sincerely. “But if you can help me find a particular stallion, a friend of mine thinks we might be able to get out of this mess. He’s in pretty deep, so he’s probably loaded with info.”

“What does he look like? I’ll do anything to help my business and the business of everypony else in Ponyville. The inns are not the only ones that have been affected.”

“He’s brick red,” Rainbow rattled off the description Twilight had given them all, “and a pegasus. Green eyes, deep pink mane and black tail. Oh, he was probably rude too.” The mare narrowed her eyes in concentration, staring upward into space with a hoof scratching her chin.

“Green eyes you said?” she queried for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded, already smug about having located Inky on her first try.

“I’m sorry,” the mare replied, blasting apart Rainbow’s previous swagger—much to her annoyance. “There have been a few stallions dropping by for some cider and games of cards, but ever since all of our tenants left, there haven’t been any stallions like you described come through. I’ll keep an eye out though.”

“You do that,” Rainbow said, already turning her head out the door. In short order, Rainbow checked most of the hostels and cafés on the upper section of Barrel Street. Very few required further investigation with the maps, as hardly any of the owners or employees remembered any stallions that even looked remotely like Inky Jay. Not only that, but Rainbow was very quickly reminded why she never ventured onto this particular street. Every pony she interviewed could do nothing but complain of the current hardship they were trudging through with the advent of the field. It was all they could talk about, even the chatty types that Rainbow dismissed as fast as she could to search the building manually. Of course, Rainbow conceded that a lot of what they said was probably true, but she doubted any of them had ever really known hardship. As a weather pegasus, the threat of not being paid for the day was always present. If a particular kind of weather was scheduled, and its moving into place did not require any pegasi, they were not paid. It was a simple system and made at least some sense, but it was also often cruel to those employed beneath it.

As she was coming up the stairs from the cellar of a restaurant whose owner thought he might have seen a stallion like Inky the night before, there was a herald cry outside along with every bell tower in the town tolling away. Before she could come up to see the source of the ruckus, the eatery owner poked his head down the stairs, almost jabbing Rainbow in the eye with his nose. “Hey! Watch it!” she sparked. “It’s not like I’m gonna steal any of this stuff. You don’t have to check on me or anything. I’m coming up anyway.” She pushed his head out her way with a hoof as she came back into the restaurant proper. “What’s goin’ on out there?” she asked, perplexed.

“I was hoping you were finished,” the stallion owner huffed, offended by Rainbow’s physical directness. “Apparently the allicorn is preparing to do her demonstration. If you are done sniffing through my cellar, I’d like to go and hear if she has any real options for us.”

“Whoa whoa buster!” Rainbow Dash replied, unwilling to let such comments just roll off her back. “Hold it right there! What makes you think the stupid allicorn that put up the field is going to give two bits about your problems. She’s not from Ponyville and I am, so I actually care about what happens to this town.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” the stallion answered.

“Oh yeah!” Rainbow retaliated. “Well at least my plot’s out there trying to do something about it rather than just sitting around complaining about it!” The stallion’s scowl had now deepened as much as Rainbow’s own narrowed eyes by this point, and their shouting match was only halted by strangled cries just outside the restaurant doors. The citizenry of Barrel Street was moving in bustling and chattering unison toward the center of town, and a lone purple unicorn was fighting against their collective flow. “Twilight!” Rainbow shouted, darting out the door, the restaurant owner forgotten.

“Don’t worry about me!” Twilight said in a partially strangled voice, still fighting somewhat fruitlessly against the crowd. “Hurry! Inky Jay! Fluttershy saw him! He’s headed to the center of town!” Rainbow Dash needed no further incentive. With a grimace and a test flap of her wings, she shamelessly jumped atop the backs of several of the moving ponies; using them as springboards into the sky above Ponyville. Being that the town was originally built and inhabited by Earth ponies, there few pegasi present. Those that did live in and around Ponyville were part of Rainbow’s very own weather management team, and she could tell them all apart by their manes alone. The pegasus she assumed to be Inky Jay stood out like an orange in an apple stand. Her fierce sneer reached her eyes as she accelerated forward into sprinter form. The wind whistled in her ears and pegasi she dodged around yelped as her whipping tail clipped them with a sharp flick.

Rainbow Dash was almost near enough to grab the stallion pegasus and bring him down in a tackle when his field-green eyes snapped back to find her. His pupils shrank in shock briefly before his pegasi-born aggressive instinct took hold. He snarled as he rolled right and bucked a nearby pegasus into Rainbow’s flight path. She swore as she swerved tightly to avoid crashing into the young and crying mare. It had been enough though, for Inky Jay had picked up his speed considerably. Rainbow growled in frustration, but was still confident in her own ability to catch him. Her speed not diminished too greatly by her evasive maneuvers, Rainbow concentrated on beating her wings as she would on a dive into a Sonic Rainboom. Without gravity to lighten the burden of such speeds, her wings rapidly began to scream in protest. She ignored the strain. Her extreme exertion was paying off, as she was closing on Inky once again and even faster than she had the first time.

But the stallion seemed wise to her prowess, for at his first chance, he dived into a street: his hooves barely skimming the cobblestone. The deviation took Rainbow by surprise, but she followed easily. And the chase began as Rainbow thought it should have from the very beginning. She pursued Inky Jay through alleys and side streets, her quarry ever wary of her for his head perpetually swinging back to see her. He was not a remarkable flyer, but he managed to stay just ahead of Rainbow Dash through the erratic nature of his chosen path. Rainbow was sure she could catch him if only he would stop cutting corners onto other streets at the last moment. In order to make it through the narrow corridors, she would have to slow herself to a more controlled speed. As maddening as it was for her to constantly be just short of forcefully grabbing his tail, she was satisfied in that she was keeping him away from the safety of proximity to Aurora Streak. And if anything, he would wear down long before her toned muscles ever would, even at her top speed.

Just after she imagined this encouraging thought, she noticed his wings beginning to beat more slowly. Smirking more than her friends would normally accept, she strained her wings even harder. She was not losing him now. The wind was all but screeching in her ears and her eyes were watering as if she truly were in a Sonic Rainboom dive. Within the second, her teeth found his tail. So enraptured was Rainbow in her success—and also partially and temporarily rendered deaf from the wind shriek—that she never heard the sickening charge of foreign magic. With a forceful tug on Inky’s tail and a running but solid landing, Rainbow jerked the unfortunate pegasus from the air. With a clubbing thud and shout of injury, Inky Jay tumbled onto the street, rolling over brutally as his equilibrium was shattered. Rainbow was victoriously approaching her captive when her own world was turned on its head. Before she could even register the noise of a cast spell, she was tossed through the air and into a brick wall; the sting of the spell in her flank mild compared to the bruise on her back. Her vision blurred and spinning from the impact, she watched through a hazy lens as Inky Jay stood, appearing just as disoriented as she felt.

“I should have known better than to think I was alone,” Inky’s voice came to Rainbow, deeply distorted and echoing slightly. “My thanks though for the timely save.”

“She would not take the chance,” a second pony spoke mechanically. Rainbow turned her head, shaking it to clear the fuzziness surrounding her. “Go and meet her lest she begin to blame us and our queen for your disappearance. This one will be cleaned.” The unicorn speaking to Inky Jay was a consuming dark gray, his eyes a piercing ocean green and mane and tail wispy and sky blue.

“I am my own responsibility,” Inky Jay snapped back at the unicorn. “I will speak with her about you and yours being blamed for my conduct. I will not have it on my own honor.”

“The Queen does not need your help,” the unicorn answered. Rainbow could care less about what they were saying, as their continued discussion was only giving her more and more time to recover. In a few moments, her head would be clear and her limbs ready to obey her once again. In that moment, she would take both of these ponies down.

“Then it stands that she would not submit to Aurora,” Inky replied sarcastically. “No, she needs us just as much as we need her and your kind, for better or worse. Now make sure that one doesn’t remember anything.” He began stalking off, wings spreading in preparation for flight. Rainbow Dash scrambled up, though her mind was not yet set to be doing much more than tripping over her own hooves. She was not letting Inky escape after having chased him for so long. She had taken only two steps forward when the unicorn’s horn began building a spell upon it. She made for him instead, leaping at him fore-legs outstretched to tackle. But the spell hit her first; the world went dark, and Rainbow Dash could feel her memories of his face slipping away into the blackness beginning to consume her.
______________________________________________________________________________

Aurora was still seething when her eyes were exposed to the light of Celestia’s sun. Bright light did not bother her like it did Chrysalis and her Changelings, for she had lived for centuries under the glow of the orb in the sky. All the same, she had grown accustomed to working in the half-light of her Devices and—combined with her festering mood after having to deal with infiltration— the burning sensation in her pupils from the greater amount of light did nothing save deepen the frown on her face. The lift carried her and her equipment down onto the streets of Ponyville, where she was intrigued to find a stage waiting for her. I intended to ‘rescue’ that child’s toy first, Aurora thought grumpily as she gazed around at all of the ponies gathered around the stage. The eyes of some betrayed genuine interest in her display, but most of the ponies tried to hide their outright hate of her through blank expressions. Though, considering these ignorant fools and their ignorant opinions, perhaps it would be better if I were to begin with the general and follow with the specific. Yes, I can accept this.

She wordlessly dragged her cart onto the platform, situating herself just to the side of the podium. A quick shake of her flanks and the latch was opened for her to slide out of of the harness. “Equestrains,” she began, raising her voice to a personally uncomfortable level. “I am going to suppose that you know that which I am going to perform, for I have no wish to waste daylight on useless repetition.” She stepped back over to her cart, and manually extracted all of the materials for the construction of a device. She scowled at herself, having not thought to bring a work table for herself, as there was none provided for her use. Along with her brass parts, also arrayed around her was a notebook full of Inky Jay’s records of her experiments, her goggles, and a common spellbook from ages past. She laid down as leisurely as she could on the unpolished wood, eliciting arched eyebrows from all of the ponies before her. “Oh, come now!” she reacted impatiently. “Do not act as though I am a queen who ought not to appear ‘undignified.’ If you yourselves would rather be sitting, then I encourage you to do so. I will not have this revelation of your minds marred by some petty thing as weariness in the hooves.”

Immediately some of the younger stallions and mares relaxed considerably, those that had worn placid faces now interested in Aurora and her demonstration despite themselves. Fewer of the older ponies did anything, defiantly staying in place and making disgruntled frowns at her. She smiled sweetly at a cluster of them for the sake of her own mood, afterwards returning to survey the crowd. In particular, she was searching for her scribe. He knows the time he should have been here. Why can I not see him amongst these?

“Hey!” a stallion shouted, breaking her from her staring. “You gonna get started already?!”

“Hold your tongue!” she lashed out at him. “This demonstration is something I have chosen to do at the suggestion of your ambassador; and thus, you should be grateful I even considered it. If it will keep further stupid questions from bombarding my ears, I will say that I am currently in waiting for my assistant.” The assembled ponies erupted into dissonant shouts and half-formed conversations. Every pony turned to his neighbor, either bewildered and offended by Aurora or talking among themselves as to why Twilight Sparkle had made the suggestion in the first place. Aurora could only sigh: a mixture of solid disdain and amused farsightedness. As much hardship as she and the ancestors of her cohorts faced in exile, they had at least escaped the descent into this rambling lack of sense. Aurora herself was quite content to let the arguments among all of the gathered ponies carry out until they died into silence. Not only would it give the uncharacteristically late Inky Jay time to come to her side, but she could also survey the crowd without any deriding remarks being directed into her ears. She cared not much for the variety of ponies gathered around her, but searched instead for the tell-tale signs of the two types she had spent much of her life working with. She did not see Earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns. Neither did she see stallions and mares. She perceived those ponies that were Ascended, and those which were not.

The subtle spell she used to illuminate her mind to their presence was one of the few she could actually use without a Device, though she had still built machines for the same purpose. She postulated that this was because the spell was internal, much like the magic required to construct a Device. Nevertheless, she allowed her vision to be given enlightenment, the world before her becoming gray and lifeless. The Ponies themselves became translucent, revealing that which Aurora sought. Her eyebrows were unable to remain even, as she was indeed impressed by the number of ponies that were Ascended. She could see tendrils of power within them, extending from their cutie marks through certain parts of their bodies. As beautiful as Ascension was, Aurora could not help but let off a contemptible scoff at those she saw. They had unlocked their own potential, but it had lacked any form of purpose and it was more than obvious that they had no inkling of it. While in this state of magical sight, Aurora noticed she could see none of the bearers. According to her research, it followed necessarily that they all be Ascended for the Elements to even respond to them. This could only mean that they were not present in the crowd. Interesting Twilight Sparkle, she mused, perhaps Chrysalis is right and I should take greater care. I fear for you if you or any of your friends had a hand in the death of one of her children. A fine annal in history it would be for the Elements of Harmony to be struck down by a Changeling Queen.

She swiftly cancelled the spell on her eyes at the sight of Inky Jay approaching low over the heads of the other ponies. As luck would have it, his arrival also drew the attention of the arguing ponies below Aurora. He alighted rather ungracefully beside her, as if he were injured somehow, and whispered from the corner of his mouth, “The game is afoot.”

“So it would seem,” Aurora replied with an equally covert murmur. Before addressing the newly quieted ponies, Aurora slipped on her goggles, eliciting suppressed giggles which she pointedly ignored. “Equestrians,” she began again in that self-indulgent voice she always remembered Luna using during public address, “I will make you a simple promise. My technology can make all ponies equal.”

“We’re already all equal!” somepony from the throng belted out, followed by murmurs of assent.

“Are you so sure?” Aurora asked with a satisfied grin while Inky huffed in disbelief beside her. It came as no surprise to her that the speaker was a unicorn. “Do you think that an Earth pony would say he is an equal to his unicorn neighbor?”

“Of course he would!” the same unicorn hollered out.

“I was not asking a unicorn to answer that question,” Aurora said. “And by my very use of these different descriptors, it is clear you are all not equal. Unicorns hold much power over the rest of you, even if only subconsciously, through their magic. I offer rectification. I offer magic to any pony, and—in time—flight as well. If you truly say you live by the Elements of Harmony, how can you say my offering is undesirable?” There was a general outcry of resentment from the pegasi and unicorns, but the silence of the Earth ponies gave more power to Aurora’s words than she could have alone.

“Silence, the lot of you!” Inky Jay screamed at the ponies.

“Of course,” Aurora continued, “I understand that many pegasi and unicorns offer their skills and powers to any other pony in need of them, but any self-respecting pony would rather they could live their lives independent of charity.”

“Sounds like ya’d be takin’ ‘way friendship,” the heavy accent of a particular mare was hurled above the rest of half-speech of the crowd. “Givin’ makes ya a better pony an’ ya get ta know some real nice folks,” Applejack continued, she and her friends marching to the front of the crowd. As much as Aurora was focused upon the Elements, she could sense Inky Jay’s level of apprehension increase.

Deciding she could ignore if for the time being, Aurora replied, “So you say that for good to exist, there must be some evil?”

“Well I... uh...” Applejack was stymied.

“Hey, don’t go twisting her words like that!” the one called Rainbow Dash leaped to her friend’s defense.

“I am not twisting her words,” Aurora answered calmly. “It is a legitimate point to raise. This conversation digresses. Equality is my great goal, and I will show just one of the ways in which I will help Equestria achieve it.”

“Oi, this I gotta see,” Rainbow Dash grunted.

“All Earth ponies, raise a hoof,” Aurora commanded. The response was jolted, as many were uncertain of revealing their breed in so heavily charged an atmosphere, but Aurora was satisfied with the eventual result even if it was not perfect. “Keep your hooves up, and my assistant will randomly come by and choose one of you to come on stage for me.” At this, many of the raised limbs descended, only to be returned to the air again with pointed jabs from their fellows. Inky Jay eyed Aurora until she nodded her permission, and he casually began flitting over the crowd.

“You,” he said to a pony near the center, “move along. Come on, don’t be a coward, move your plot up there.” When the pony would not move—likely a combination of stage fright and uncertainty about Aurora herself—Inky sighed heavily and grabbed the pony’s raised hoof. He mercilessly dragged the young stallion along, never bothering to allow the crowd time to move out of the stallion’s way. The end result was an even more shaken pony than when he had first been asked to raise his hoof. In an effort to cheer him up, Aurora could see the Element of Laughter waving and smiling heartily in his direction, heedless of the looks of the ponies around her.

“What is your name?” Aurora asked the stallion, flipping through the pages of her notebook.

“Gold... Gold... Golden Filigree,” the pony stammered.

“And what is your occupation?” Aurora asked again, this time handing the notebook off to a waiting Inky Jay and looking up through her goggles at Golden Filigree.

“I’m a... um... pegasi chariot... I repair pegasi chariots,” he replied, recovering a bit after noticing the Element of Laughter’s antics.

“I see,” Aurora Streak replied, her mind already racing with the possibilities for a Device. It would indeed be convenient if the Device was one whose construction specifications she had memorized. “So, this being your occupation, would you mind explicating to all gathered some difficulties you face in this labor.” It was not a request, but a command.

“Explicate?” the stallion fumbled lightly over the word.

“It means ‘to explain’,” Inky Jay said disparagingly.

“Oh,” Golden Filigree said awkwardly, tilting his head in an attempt to think of anything he found particularly difficult about repairing chariots. “Well, sometimes welding new parts on is difficult.”

“Anything else?” Aurora asked, uninterested in a heat spell: such a utilitarian Device could have a plethora of uses.

“Some of the more complex ones have to be taken apart to be repaired,” Golden Filigree said, becoming more confident as he delved into the details of his craft. “That can take a lot of time and energy, finding just the right tool for the job I mean.”

Now this is an interesting prospect, Aurora thought in something akin to glee. “From the way in which you describe this issue, magic appears to be an easy and simple solution,” Aurora spoke, both to Filigree and the crowd. “And yet an Earth pony has access to no such privilege. He must slave away for hours longer than a unicorn, who with a simple spell could complete the task in mere seconds. Why should one race of ponies be above another in this or any regard?” Turning to face Filigree directly, she said, “There is an interesting spell invented far back in the history of Equestria. The unicorns intended it as a weapon, and a brutal one at that. The spell in question separates those things that are not alike away from one another.”

“You mean Regulus’s Rejection of Parts!” Twilight Sparkle exclaimed. The crowd snickered at her enthusiasm, as if this were not unexpected behavior of her.

“Only partially,” Aurora answered her, though she found the interruption unnecessary and quite irritating. “Regulus’s spell was crude at best, being that it was only meant to cause an explosion of pony organs. There was no subtlety in his work. I have, however, discovered it can be modified slightly to cause a construct to separate into its distinct parts through the same motions by which it was put together. I will proceed to build a device for this laborer, Golden Filigree, to ease his burden.” Not giving the crowd of ponies a chance to shout questions at her, she flicked her head down to the parts before her. A quick puff blew her mane away from her line of sight and she began. It had taken her a great deal of time to come up with how she was to explain her methods to these ponies who likely had no understanding of any magic outside the most basic of levitation spells.

“Brass is the preferred metal,” she began, sliding the husk of a Device to the center of her work area. “Unlike gold, silver, and gems, which can only hold magic and allow it to leach from them over the years; brass can hold magic, contain it, and also channel it. A Device functions on the basis of Indirectly Applied Magic, a fringe area of study. It has a marked difference from an enchantment, which I see many of you unicorns are assuming my technology to be.” A general wave of discomfiture flowed through the ponies; it being unsettling to many of them that Aurora had read them so easily. In fact, Aurora had not done any such thing. Only, she had been exposed so many times to countless ignoramuses that she had come to expect this hasty generalization.

“An enchantment imbues an object with power, true, but that power lies dormant until it is accessed. An additional influx of strength is needed for the power of an enchantment to operate, and this strength is drawn from whoever happens to be using the object in question. My Devices, on the other hoof, use Inder. This magic is the pure essence of a spell, not the effect of spell placed within an object. Therefore, its power is already self contained and can be tapped into without any external addition.” Already, she could see herself losing the attention of the pegasi. Even some of the unicorns appeared to be struggling to grasp her speech. The Earth ponies alone hung onto every word, eager for a chance to wield magic themselves. “And finally, before I begin the actual construction of the Device, I will say that the magic of IAM cannot be heedlessly tapped. There is a reason unicorns possess horns. Within that horn, is an array of organic ‘channels’ through which the magic flows. The form of these ‘channels’ gives life and direction to the spell, the key reason why some unicorns are more skilled with certain spells than others. This also the reason complex spells use arcane lines to direct magic. My Devices use brass ‘channels’ constructed in a style that maximizes the effect of a particular spell, and because they are of brass, none of the magic escapes as it does in a unicorn’s horn. This loss of potency is visualized in the halo of power one sees around a horn when it is being used. Now, watch, and be amazed.”

And Aurora set to her work, signaling to Inky Jay for her notebook as the citizens of Ponyville looked on. She remembered quite fondly when she had begun her work on modifying Regulus’s spell. It had been shortly after her exile from Equestria, and she strongly believed that it was that work that dragged away from despair and brokenness into the idealist mare she was today. The spell itself was a powerful one, and thus very little of the power she would impart to the Device would be used each time it was activated. A smaller Device would have sufficed, but at least this way, she would be able to indulge and construct a machine that would fulfill its purpose for decades. She examined her notes once more, double-checking her calculations, before grasping a brass orb that would fit snugly inside the rear end of the Device shell. Its entire surface was pockmarked with pin-holes. She deftly handed the orb off to Inky Jay, who held it gingerly with both fore-hooves.

Aurora angelically closed her eyes, beginning the most dangerous—yet critical—part of the operation. Most ponies assumed her to be simply unskilled with magic, but this was not completely true. She could not indeed perform even the most basic of spells without tremendous difficulty, but the magic required was still within her. Her special talent had prescribed that it be used in a way in which most unicorns would never even consider, let alone try for the danger involved. Rather than allow her magic to flow through her horn—which she postulated had none of the ‘channels’ she had spoken of—she directed it outside of it. The inherent magic of her body caused the magic to flow like water over her horn until it accumulated at the tip: the purest and unadulterated form of magical power that could be summoned by any pony. But this power was unstable, and without extreme concentration, Aurora knew she could kill both herself and anypony within ten feet of her if she lost her grip on it.

Serenity was key to the process, and Aurora had a memory she would always draw upon after drawing forth the spell. In this moment, she dredged up her modified form of Regulus’s spell, and allowed herself to settle into recollection: all the while directing the magic outside her horn. It had been the most wondrous moment of her life, before she had been ‘blessed’ to be an allicorn. The night before she was to display her theories to the Court of Light and the Court of Darkness, Luna had approached her. She had been concerned for Aurora’s nerves, as Aurora had been a much less ordered and calculating unicorn at the time.

Somewhere in the outside world, Aurora heard the collective gasp of the crowd, and the familiar feel and hissing crackle as the magic flowed up over her horn. She disregarded them as if they were only wisps of a dream, focusing on her memory and the magic itself.

In an effort to calm Aurora and show her that even the greatest of tasks were not impossible, Luna had taken her to the highest balcony of Canterlot. There, she had cast a spell to allow Aurora to feel the power yet stillness of the stars and moon as she directed them below the horizon. The near omnipotence they and Luna had radiated had been astounding, but even more amazing had been the deep tranquility they espoused. The full effect had been a feeling of power restrained and harnessed for the good of all.

And as Aurora registered a gathering shriek and light flashing over her eyelids, she remembered the words Luna had spoken to her. “Remember this always Aurora Streak. It mattereth not how powerful those are that resideth around you. All ponies art in control of their own destinies.” With a soft smile from remembering the creed she now lived by, Aurora opened her eyes and leaned her horn toward the orb held by Inky Jay. The sparking and screeching of the contained magic at the tip of her horn was gradually drowned out by a severe rushing sound—like water under pressure through a narrow opening—as she contacted it with and forced it into the orb in Inky Jay’s hooves.

The entire process she estimated had taken only three minutes or so, though for her it always seemed to last much longer. Raising her head, she was able to see her gleaming handiwork as she removed it from Inky Jay. There rested the orb, the undulating light from the magic within beaming out through the small holes. “Within every Device,” she called to the ponies before her, “rests one such as this.” Without wasting more words on ponies still thunderstruck by the display of magic they had just witnessed, Aurora slipped the precious orb inside the back end of the Device and motioned for Inky Jay to turn the pages of the notebook to the sections detailing the various patterns of the brass channels she was about to place. In her studies of the natural ‘channels’ in a unicorn’s horn, she had come to the realization that there were actually very few naturally occurring formations. Over time, she had compiled notes on which patterns worked well with particular spell types. There were minute tweaks she could make to her brass ‘channels’ to increase the efficiency of the Device in question, but as she was not currently in possession of her other Devices that made this modification possible, she would have to settle for her pre-made ‘channels’.

Regulus’s spell was within a category she dubbed Standard; in that it did not do anything impossible under normal circumstances. The channel configuration was—rather ironically—one of the marginally more complicated sets to assemble. There were three channels in a shallow hillock shape, one facing up and between the other, upward facing, two. In addition, a spring-shaped channel needed to contact the entire inside length of the Device without ever touching the other three channels. Although painstaking, Aurora was not making additional changes to each channel, limiting the actual level of difficulty of the assembly. Within ten minutes, Aurora was sliding back the top cover of this newest Device and applying the external hoof-trigger near the nozzle. “This I present to you,” Aurora said proudly to Golden Filigree, “as both a gift to you and as a promise for greater things to all of Equestria.” Inky Jay promptly took the Device’s trigger in his right front hoof, curling its counterpart around the end. A few beats of his wings sent him into a low hover, and he swiveled to face the podium. Several ponies in the crowd as well as Filigree himself became aware of what was about to happen only moments before Inky activated the Device, shouting warnings to try to stop him.

The instant Inky’s hoof tripped the firing mechanism, a high pitched magic burst was followed by a bolt of turquoise power. It impacted the podium, the entire crowd now in silent waiting for the result. Slowly at first, then with gathering speed, the podium neatly disassembled itself, each nail and wooden plank encased in a turquoise glow until all of the parts were gathered with their kindred in organized piles. Only once the magic faded from the podium pieces did Inky and Aurora nod their approval of her work, Inky ungraciously dropping the machine onto Golden Filigree’s back. At first, there was stunned silence among the citizens of Ponyville, until one Earth pony near the back began vigorously stomping his hooves in sound approval. And all it took was one before the entire town erupted into a dissonant chorus of applause and ponies eagerly discussing with their neighbors what they might have done for them with such technology. Aurora smiled, pleased that her innovation had finally resonated well with commoners, but more so because—despite her best efforts to the contrary—Twilight Sparkle’s face was of one enraptured with the newfound knowledge. Of course, there still was somepony seeing beyond the immediacy of her technology and perhaps that pony was still one of the Elements of Harmony; but with this demonstration and her upcoming retrieval of the filly’s toy, the infiltrator no longer had any leverage against her. If they came forward with what little information they had, the town would laugh them to scorn.

So now the town was hers, and she could devote her current energy into drawing in Twilight Sparkle and the remaining Elements and assisting Chrysalis and Inky Jay in their hunt for the agent intent on deciphering her plans.
______________________________________________________________________________

“And she even brought Scootaloo’s scooter back so quick!” Pinkie continued for the sixth time since coming back from Aurora’s goodwill demonstration. “Maybe I should ask her for something. Ooh! Ooh! Maybe I she can make me a thingy to bake cupcakes without an oven!”

“I’m sure she could Pinkie,” Applejack answered the bouncing pony beside her. None of the others trusted their voices at the moment. Not only had Inky Jay gotten away, but Aurora had all but completely swayed Ponyville’s citizens to her side. To make matters even more complicated, Twilight was struggling with the very real question Aurora had posed. Were all ponies really equal? She and her friends most certainly were, but a nagging feeling somewhere in the back of Twilight’s mind told her that this was only a special case due to them all being bearers of the Elements of Harmony. She shut her eyes tight, trying to drive away the thoughts of her analytical mind. It was, however not to be stopped. No matter how ugly, Twilight could not escape the truth that if she had not been sent to live in Ponyville, and had met any one of her current friends, she would undoubtedly have dismissed them as—dare she even think it—beneath the prize pupil of Princess Celestia.

And she knew from experience as a young mare growing up in Canterlot that even beyond the social class differential, unicorns had a habit of looking down upon the other races. But Twilight had always taken it in stride, especially after coming to Ponyville. She refused to be sucked into such notions, and knew she was the better mare for it. But that still did not escape the problem of so many others in Equestria. Her actions and the actions of those like her would not be enough to change a mindset based in unavoidable and uncontrollable biology. And yet Aurora Streak was offering a solution to the problem that could be applied across Equestria in less than three years. And it came through the hooves of invention, not rebellion, as was so often the historical precedent. Inevitably, Twilight could feel her thoughts warring with one another over Aurora in her entirety.

“This is just crazy!” Rainbow Dash interrupted Twilight’s thoughts. “Of course ponies aren’t equal!”

“What!?” Rarity exclaimed before anypony else. “Rainbow Dash, dear, how can you say such a thing with such... gusto?”

“Uh, ‘cause it’s obvious, duh,” Rainbow said flatly to Rarity.

“I think... um... she means that everypony has strengths and weaknesses... not that weaknesses are a good thing,” Fluttershy stammered.

“Yeah, that,” Rainbow pointed affirmatively to Fluttershy. “Like, I’m a way better athlete than Pinkie Pie, but I can’t throw awesome parties like she can.”

“Yer sayin’ it all balances out in tha end,” Applejack said. “Makes good sense. More sense’n all tha’ rubbish Aurora was throwin’ ou’ there.”

“That’s not what she was talking about,” Twilight said stoically, her tone turning the heads of all her friends. “At least, that’s not all she was talking about. Rarity, you make more money than Applejack right?”

“I do dear,” Rarity replied, “but if it is a question of economics, of course nopony is equal. Economies need inequality to run.”

“I know that,” Twilight said, leading the seven of them into the library. “But imagine if Applejack, you could use magic to harvest the apples. Wouldn’t you make more money faster?”

“I’d reckon we would,” Applejack replied, apprehension at Twilight’s direction creeping into her voice.

“I think Aurora knows that true equality is impossible,” Twilight continued, “but she wants to come as close to it as is physically possible. The problem is that I don’t see why that’s a bad thing, but Aurora herself just doesn’t seem... right.” She took a rare moment to swear, to the wincing reaction of all present. “Sorry...” she sighed. “It’s just, I wish I could write to Princess Celestia. Aurora is an allicorn that’s lived for over a thousand years at least, and we can only go so long against that sort of mind without the Princess’s help.”

“She might be makin’ some good points,” Rainbow Dash said confidently, “but she’s still as twisted as the Everfree Forest for bringing Changelings with her. She should go rot in a dungeon just for that.”

“...but if she wants equality...” Fluttershy muttered, though her words had more impact than Luna using her full volume Royal Canterlot voice.

“Girl’s got a gosh darned point,” Applejack said, stamping a hoof in frustration.

“If that was all she would have revealed them by now,” Twilight said, staring at nothing in thought. “There’s more to the Changeling presence than that, and if we’re going to find what’s really going on with Aurora Streak, that is the lead we have to keep going after.”

“I am not, I repeat, not going back in that ship again,” Rainbow said emphatically.

“I wouldn’t want to shoot anypony into either,” Pinkie added. “Can you imagine if somepony didn’t come back? Then it would be my fault, and—mph!”

“What do you suggest we do then dear?” Rarity said sweetly, her hoof still over Pinkie’s scowling mouth.

“Inky Jay still looks like our best shot,” Twilight mused. “I might have a plan to get him, but I’ll need some time to work out the details.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” Rainbow asked. “I swear I’m gonna explode if I don’t having anything to do.”

“Rainbow, you and Fluttershy can be on the lookout for Inky Jay,” Twilight said. “You’re pegasi, so flying around and looking around won’t look awkward.”

“The rest o’ us could start by talkin’ to everpony ‘round ‘bout what a load of horse apples all tha’ junk is she keeps on sayin’,” Applejack suggested. “We can’t be tha only ponies tha’ thank it is.”

“We’ll need tact though Applejack,” Rarity said in her careful but forceful way. “It would probably be best if did not bring it up unless somepony else does.”

“Good idea, both of you,” Twilight nodded to them. “We need to stay low as much as possible. Aurora doesn’t strike me as the type who would take too kindly to dissent.”

“Gotcha, Twi,” Applejack gave a slight nod. “Just send Spike a’runnin’ when yer ready with this plan o’ yers.”

“If I see Inky, I’m not letting a little crash stop me from catching next time,” Rainbow said. “Though seriously, if any of you guys even mention that I crashed so badly, I’ll just act like I don’t know you... for a week.”

“You were lucky you weren’t hurt worse,” Twilight chuckled. “And we won’t breathe a word about how we found you.”

“Good on that,” Rainbow replied, reassured. “If I manage to catch the dude, I’m takin’ him to the closest of your guys’ places. Just saying so you’re ready.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Rarity shuddered, no doubt imagining the uncouth Inky Jay spouting off in her boutique.

“Celestia be with you all,” Twilight said as they all left.

“She already is silly!” Pinkie replied as the door shut; once again displaying Pinkie Pie’s strange perception of the world in a way that demanded at least one laugh of amusement.

Comments

[vren55]

1753071 I actually rewatched part of Canterlot Wedding and noticed the line "A queen must care for her subjects' or something along that line. Keep up the good work!

[Inky Jay]

1851764
Glad to know that Chrysalis is staying in-character in the fic. It's not so hard when the situation isn't as wacky as it's about to get, so I hope I'm able to take my ability to write her well in 'normal' situations and that transposing that into more original scenes isn't too difficult.

Yes, things are going to get wacky.

[Inky Jay]

Check out this pic of Aurora a friend of mine did! It's totally awesome!
Aurora

[vren55]

This review is brought to you by Authors Helping Authors
Marks of Harmony
Grammar Score: 9
Pros: Alicorn OC story and Author Self-insert, done successfully and done excellently.
New magic technology and angle into possible Equestrian racism/segregation of power, is insightful and interesting
Grammar is very good.
The suspense buildup is also very well done
Have I mentioned the mane cast were in character?
Cons: Occassionally very wordy. However, since much is needed to be explained this can be overlooked.
Quite a bit of telling background information, but this can be overlooked
Notes: The greatest problem with this fic is it's length and wordiness. This can be off putting, but I think it is also a strong point as it shows your development of character. However, some sentences can be simplified and some things can be shown as opposed to told. Other than that, the OC alicorn Aurora Streak makes everything seem... just awesome.
Story I would like you to read: Remembering the Fallen, a much shorter story on how the Mane 6 discover the body of a pony soldier. Barbican and White Tower pop up a little bit in it.

[Razzy]

Rainbow is SO dead once Chryssie finds out it was her who murdered one of her children.

Cya
Raziel-chan

[Tali_The_Lamia]

idiots.

I dont care if they will never truly be equal. You cant change their destiny, you will just buck up the future.