Chapter 11: Farewell to Ponyville
Friendship is Magic; Damnation is Alchemy
By Anonymous Card Captor
My Little Pony-Friendship is Magic is created by Lauren Faust and owned by Hasbro Studios. Fullmetal Alchemist is created by Hiromu Arakawa. All other characters are the creation of the author. All thoughts or anything read by a character is in italics.
Chapter 11: Farewell to Ponyville
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New life flourished in the desert in the ever-growing number of former refugees returning to their homeland and beginning the long arduous process of reconstruction, starting with their cities. Though diminished by the war, the Ishvalan culture itself was as vibrant as before the conflict. The contrast was most apparent for one who is standing on the border between the ruins left over by the war and their restoration efforts.
They gathered along the streets and greeted the Fuehrer’s motorcade. Here was the man that brought the ‘real’ culprits of the Ishvalan war to justice. Aerugo has been shamed in front of the world and forced to relinquish much of their territory to Amestris, though for some, they have gotten off easy compared to their victim. Regardless, justice has been served. Amestris’ new leader has proven himself as an ally to the Ishvalans.
Wind Racer basked in the praises and adoration of the desert tribe. As his presidential limousine passed, the old women and children pressed their hands against the window giving them a blessing in the name of their god, Ishval. Sure it was nasty having all those sweaty human palm prints on his windows, but the fanfare was too narcotic to resist. It’s a shame the rest of the country didn’t show him this sort of love. They were still some lingering support for democracy. Well, he should try to fix that. Perhaps he can give Parliament what they want and then stage some sort catastrophe or a fake attack, perhaps, and let them stumble and fall a bit before saving the day. No! Why something so elaborate. He has the Philosopher’s Stone. He was a god pretending to be a military officer. Time was on his side. The next generation of Amestrians-they are the answer for his longing for a people totally devoted to him. He’ll ‘train’ them to offer him the adulation he so richly deserved. However, there were loose ends to tend to. He had the support of the Ishvalan people, but their leaders have been cold to him.
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The cars from the motorcade parked in front of a cottage near the edge of the Ishvalan settlement. Ten men in black suits, part of the Fuehrer’s secret service, circled around the building checking for bombs or potential assassins hiding on the premises. Five of them carried rifles with scoops slung over their shoulders while the other five drew their sidearms and then split into two groups. The first group with the rifles scattered around the surrounding area checking for snipers while the group with sidearms escorted Wind Racer and Abigail from his limo to the doorsteps.
Wind Racer grimaced as he surveyed the cottage. “April, you wrote down the wrong address, idiot!”
“I didn’t write it down,” said April defensively. “The guy at Central Intelligence gave me his copy.”
“Elder Shan is supposed to be the leader of the Ishvalans. Why is she living in...this dump?” Wind Racer’s lips puckered as though he tasted something sour.
“I think she made some vow of poverty or something.”
“Then she’s almost as scatterbrained as you.” Wind Racer then yanked April by the arm. “Just remember not to repeat what I just say.”
April rubbed the spot where Wind Racer grabbed her. “You know I would never do that, Douglas.”
Wind Racer yanked her arm again. “And don’t be so personal while I’m on business.”
“Okay,” April mumbled.
Wind Racer and his entourage were greeted at the door by a man wearing a beige tunic with an X-shaped scar marking his solemn, stone-cold face. April backed away knowing full well the history of this scarred-face man.
“Greetings!” Wind Racer smiled congenially. “You must be Scar. Am I correct?”
“I am,” Scar replied. “What business do you have here?”
Wind Racer bit his lip and squinted before forcing a smile on his face. “I’m here to see Elder Shan, though I’ve also been trying to get an audience with you. I hope you don’t mind attending our little talk as well.”
Scar folded his arms over his muscular chest. “You will have to ask Elder Shan. It is not my place to intrude.”
“No, I don’t mind at all,” a haggard, feminine voice uttered from behind Scar.
“Are you Elder Shan?” Wind Racer asked.
“That is what I’m called by my people. Feel free to come in.” Wind Racer and Abigail followed Scar inside. An elderly woman, short in stature with bandages wrapped over the right eye and an accusatory stare in the left one, gestured to two chairs set side-by-side. “Have a seat.” Wind Racer and April accepted Shan’s ‘hospitality’. “So, why would the Fuehrer wish to speak to an old woman such as myself?”
“I believe you underestimate your own importance. Forgive me for tempting a spiritual woman as yourself.” Elder Shan’s was a face carved in granite. She still sported the same sour grimace that was screaming out to Wind Racer that he was not trusted by the Ishvalan holy woman. Failing to flatter, the pony-turned-human-dictator switched strategies and putting on a façade of being clueless but accommodating. “You’ve returned none of my correspondences. I was...concerned.”
“Fuehrer Sinclair, you have won the hearts of our people. They are convinced you have answered our grievances against Aerugo, but...” Elder Shan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “there are some questions I would like answered.”
“Feel free to ask.”
“The Ishvalans killed by the Aerugian border guards-they spoke with an officer by the name of Jonathan Doe before they were taken from us by Ishval. He claimed there was a formal investigation. Is that true? And if so, I would like to speak to him on the matter.”
“I was informed of Colonel Doe’s so-called investigation. The truth is the colonel overstepped his bounds. He received no mandate from Central Command to investigate the matter. In fact, he was going against orders from his superior officer to cease the investigation. He didn’t believe Colonel Doe’s theory. In the end, he was proven wrong. And as for speaking with him, that won’t be possible. Colonel Doe passed away.”
“And his superior officer?”
“Died during the invasion of Aerugo.”
“Do you know Saladin, Fuehrer Sinclair?”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“He was the Ishvalan leading the attack on the Aerugo border guard.”
“An attack?!? I wasn’t aware of any...”
“Saladin told his family that Colonel Doe would provide him with weapons. Also, he said the weapons would be left near the border by Colonel Doe.
Wind Racer took a deep breath and sighed. “What I’m about to tell you is top secret. If this goes public, it would imperil international relations and throw Amestris into another war with your people caught in the middle. Colonel Doe's body was found amongst the dead Ishvalans. I believe the colonel grew frustrated with the resistance he faced from Central and decided to take matters in his own hands. And yes, the Ishvalans did attack the border guards. If word got out, rival nations would claim Amestris staged the attack as an excuse to annex territory. We know that isn’t true, but truth is often sacrificed for political gain. An attack on the border by Ishvalans *and* staged by an officer in the Amestrian military, even a rouge officer, would give the false impression that Amestris intentionally provoked Aerugo.”
“Of course, you should know who’s at fault. Were you not the one to lead the attack against Aerugo when they crossed the border?” It took all of Wind Racer’s willpower not to lash out at the old woman. “You are an eyewitness to the event, right?” Elder Shan asked. “And you did force Prince Claudio to tell the truth, after all.” Wind Racer’s temper simmered down. Maybe it wasn’t an accusation of wrongdoing. He could still salvage his reputation amongst the Ishvalans.
“I am an eyewitness to Aerugo crossing our border, yes, but not to Colonel Doe’s unsanctioned activities. It would be...difficult to explain to the world what happened without the appearance of impropriety. I believe it is the best interest of our newly-found peace that this stays a secret.”
“As do I. I am a cautious woman, by nature, Fuehrer Sinclair. I don’t give my trust to others easily. And the history between our people has been bloody. So, please understand my reluctance to speak with you.”
“Of course, I understand. Ending the differences between our people will be a long and arduous journey.”
“Then you can start by speaking to us before setting up a recruitment center in Lowe’s Hope.” All eyes turned to Scar, who had, until this point, kept silent.
Wind Racer forced a smile on his face. “I was merely correcting one of the many wrongs committed against your people. Honorable Ishvalan officers were stripped of their rank and executed just for being Ishvalan. I thought it would only be right to restore the Ishvalan people to their rightful place as citizens of Amestris.”
“I’ve also heard Amestris will reinstate the draft. Is your talk of peace between our people just a ploy to gather more cannon fodder for your ambitions?”
“Scar,” Elder Shan said sternly, “there is no need to be confrontational.” She then turned her attention back to Wind Racer. “As I said before, there is still much ill-will between our people.”
“Don’t be so harsh. I don’t blame him for being suspicious, though,” Wind Racer said conditionally, “he shouldn’t put must stock on Central City gossip. Fear and sensationalism is what sells newspapers.”
“Of course, I understand.”
“If you like, the recruitment office at Lowe’s Hope can be closed...to alleviate the concerns of your people.”
“That is very gracious of you. Thank you, Fuehrer Sinclair. I wish we could discuss these matters further, but my obligations are many and the day is still young.”
“I hope to see you more often. I’ll station one of my officers as a liaison, a go-between if you will.”
“I have a suggestion-Major Miles. He’s stationed in the area and is one-quarter Ishvalan. We are already indebted to him for his assistance in our efforts to rebuild this city.”
Wind Racer stroked his chin. “I believe I’ve heard of him. Wasn’t he assigned to this area by the previous fuehrer?”
“Actually that was Fuehrer Grumman,” Elder Shan corrected.
“But he did work closely with Fuehrer Mustang, didn’t he.”
“That much is true. Will that be a problem?”
Wind Racer forced a smile on his face. “I’ll take your suggestion into consideration.”
“You won’t honor our wishes? I’d had hoped we could come to an understanding.”
Wind Racer pondered Elder Shan’s words. I don’t trust any human who’s affiliated with Roy Mustang. Then again, I need to stay on the Ishvalans’ good side if I’m to build my own kingdom. And I’ll need as many soldiers I can get my hands on if Amestris is to expand its borders.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll inform Major Miles of his last-minute reassignment.” Wind Racer and April said their goodbyes to Elder Shan and Scar and proceeded back to the motorcade.
“Why are you going along with his lies?” Scar asked. “You know who really started the war.”
“I am as disgusted as you but I dare not sacrifice our people’s lives in another war.”
“And that’s exactly what will happen if he stays in power. Our young men will be his foot soldiers.”
“Scar,” Elder Shan said in a tired voice, “I can’t stop you from taking matters in your own hands, but I implore you to wait. If one of our own assassinates a leader of Amestris, one who appears to be reaching out to us, our people would be considered traitors, enemies of the state, untrustworthy. For better or for worse, we are at the mercy of this nation.”
“Elder Shan, I’ll do as you wish...for now. But if the Fuehrer goes too far, I’ll give you warning you ahead of time. Then you can send Ishvalans to kill me so that the blame will lie solely on my shoulders.”
“Such dark plots are unbecoming a holy man of Ishval!” Elder Shan yelled.
“You are exactly right, but for the sake of my people, I would rather taint my own soul than remain clean at the cost of their lives.”
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One week later
“Are you Princess Celestia?” Sinclair asked.
The alicorn gritted her teeth and grimaced at Sinclair. “Where is he?”
“Where is who?”
“The pony whose body you stole. Where is the real Wind Racer, human?”
“You can tell who I really am?”
The princess pinned Sinclair down. “Where is Wind Racer? Tell me or else?”
“I don’t know,” he grunted, pressed under the force of the princess’s telekinetic field. “The last I saw of him, he was in Central City.”
“Central City? You mean...in Amestris?”
Sinclair nodded. “I don’t know where he is now. It’s been years since I saw him.”
“Oh poor Wind Racer, why of all the human kingdoms, he would be in *that* one.”
“Hey! Don’t talk about my home country like it’s some sort of slum.”
“I’ve been to Amestris and I’ve seen first hoof how poorly your people ran it.” Princess Celestia took on her human form. “I am all too familiar with your kind. A long time ago, I could go as myself, but then I learned how cruel your species could be...the hard way.” She then resumed her true form. “So I walked amongst you hiding my true nature.”
“How are you able to reduce your mass? You must be only a fraction of your size in human form.”
“Magic isn’t handicapped by the limitations of equivalent exchange, and while we’re on the subject of alchemy, tell me why you switched bodies with my subject?”
“It was an accident.”
“Don’t lie to me, human!”
“I don’t care if you believe me or not, but if you won’t take my word for it, don’t waste my time with an interrogation.”
Suddenly, Sinclair was hoisted up in the air and faced the princess eye-to-eye.
“You obviously have no idea whom you’re speaking with, human. My sister and I are the highest authority of this domain. You don’t spout orders at me.
“So, you do want to waste your time forcing me to give you answers that you won’t believe anyway.”
“Okay, I’ll humor you.” Celestia released Sinclair letting him fall to the ground. “Now tell me your side of the story.”
Sinclair rubbed the sore spot on his bottom where Celestia dropped him. “I was performing research in separating chimeras and needed one for my experiments that I didn’t create myself so I could tell if my technique worked or if I was just backtracking my own transmutations. Your subject was being held in a lab and slated to be put to death. I talked a war buddy of mine into letting me have what I thought was a chimera.”
“How did you manage that? Didn’t Wind Racer tell you what he really was?”
“He didn’t say a word till after the transmutation.”
“And why didn’t you try to return him to his original body?”
“He wouldn’t let me try.”
“You expect me to believe my subject wanted your human body?”
“Yes he did. Said I ruined his old body and that I owed him mine. He even forced me to teach him alchemy. As I said before, if you’re not willing to take my word for it, then don’t waste *our* time interrogating me.”
“And the body switch? How did you pull that off?”
“I tried to separate what I thought was a bird and horse, but the transmutation stopped at step one. So, I tried again, this time breaking him down on a more fundamental level and the next time I knew, I was in this white room talking to a white, sort of inverse silhouette of a pegasus.”
“You saw Truth?”
“You know about Truth?”
“Wait here human.” Celestia conjured leg chains around Sinclair’s ankles. “I’ll be right back.” Celestia then opened a portal and walked through.
Sinclair clapped his front hooves together and touched the chains restraining his back legs, but nothing happened. He tried to transmute the chains into rust again. They remained unaffected. There was no reaction, not even spark of electricity.
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“Ah! Celestia! It’s been ages since you dropped by for a visit.” Truth, who was now in the form of a white silhouette of Celestia, greeted the pony princess. She was sitting on its haunches with a big grin on her face.
“I’ve spoken with a human who switched bodies with one of my subject. He claimed you were the one responsible. Is that true? Were you the one to transplant the soul of this human into the body of my subject?”
“I did.”
“But why? If this human is being punished for his hubris, then why involve my subject who has done nothing to deserve this.”
Truth then pointed a hoof at Celestia. “You can’t figure it out yourself?!? I’m so disappointed. Tell me, what is the subject of the human’s hubris? What form did his sin of pride take?”
“You took his body from him. I can only imagine it was his pride in being human.”
“Correct. He cared not for the welfare of others that weren’t from his species. It’s just too bad you can’t see your own pride.”
Celestia looked hurt. “You think I’m like them? How could you?”
“You assumed your subject is without fault. If he was, I would have never involved him. No Celestia, he must be taught humility as well, and so far the human has come closer to learning his lesson than your subject.”
“I never claimed my subjects were perfect, but compared to the likes of an Amestrian alchemist, they’re beyond reproach. Were you not paying attention when the humans slaughtered my subjects? We moved to the edges of the earth and went through the hardships of turning frozen tundra into arable land just so we could exist without having to fight against them for our survival.”
“You have so much to learn. When you go back, ask the human his name? I think you’ll find his answer...educational.”
“What about Wind Racer?”
“What about him?”
“I want my subject back.”
“I hope you don’t include returning them to their original bodies because that’s out of the question.”
Celestia bowed down to Truth. “Please, I beg of you. Show mercy on my subject, Wind Racer.”
Truth shook her head while looking down at the humbled princess. “You know you’re not allowed to interfere in my work, Celestia. You will not return them to their original forms.”
“Please reconsider.” Celestia trembled.
“You can ask a thousand times, and my answer will still be the same.”
Celestia took a deep breath and sighed. “I will do your will, Truth.”
“Good and one more thing,” said Truth to Celestia as she was walking back through the portal. “Don’t wait until your subjects have some problem to visit. You should come by more often, especially now that Luna is back to take over the night sky for you. I value your company.” Celestia offer no reply to Truth’s request and walked through without saying another word. “What a spoiled child! She’ll have to learn the hard way.”
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“What did you do to me?” Sinclair asked.
“If you mean why you lost your alchemy, I stopped the movement of the plate tectonics. I know that it's he power source for your alchemic reactions.”
“You can do that?”
“I am one with Equestria, its sun, moon, stars, and land.”
“You mean that fake sun and moon.”
“My sun keeps my subjects warm and feed the plant life that gives them nourishment. My sister’s moon and stars gives them light at night. It is real enough. Now tell me, human, are you a state alchemist for Amestris?”
“I was. I quit after the Ishvalan War.”
“Maybe if you quit *before* I could assign some virtue to your character. Now what is your name?”
“Douglas Sinclair.”
Celestia stepped back with a shocked look. “You mean the new fuehrer?”
“New...fuehrer?!?” Sinclair uttered the words slowly letting the news sink in. “You’re telling me that Impostor is fuehrer. Celestia?!? Celestia!”
Celestia snapped out of her trance. “What is it?”
“I have to go back to Amestris.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“But the Impostor...”
“...is no longer your concern. One human knowing of our existence is more than enough.”
“But you can’t leave someone like him in charge of Amestris.”
“And why not? Wind Racer can’t be any worse than your prior fuehrers. I’ve had enough for one day. You’re going to prison for assaulting my subjects.”
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The town had lapsed into a nap on a lazy Sunday evening, and its cobblestone streets were almost deserted. Riza cradled a bag of groceries in her arms that had a stalk of celery and a loaf of bread sticking out. The moment that she exited the store, a middle-age woman, plumb in statute, flipped the open sign to closed and was about to lock the door behind her when she caught sight of five men, four in black three-piece suits and with tinted sunglasses accompanied by one dressed in a brown coat and trousers and was a head shorter than his traveling companions.
“Sorry we close at six on Sundays. You have to come back some...” She said to the men who didn’t bother acknowledging her existence let alone replying to her.
Riza caught a glimpse of their reflections gleaming in the store window as they crossed the street. She whipped around a corner and paused at a back alley. Just as the suits cleared the corner, Riza ducked in the alley and ran around a stack of crates. Behind it was a door nicked up from use and paint peeling from neglect. Riza slipped inside the rundown back alley room.
“Took you long enough.” Roy Mustang was in the middle of cutting up a head of lettuce when Riza walked in. “Did you make it in time?”
“Barely, the stores close early on the weekends. I got everything you asked but...” Riza positioned herself next to a seam that was etched on the wall. This segment of the brick wall bore the telltale signs of an alchemic reconstruction.
“...the seasonings are a tad off.” Roy dropped what he was doing and followed Riza through the hidden exit. Suddenly, the door flew off its hinges by a well-placed kick. One of the suits tossed a can the room. After it tumbled along the ground and came to a stop in the middle of the living room, the canister belched out white smoke that invaded every crack and hole in the wall.
The four men drew 45-caliber semi-automatic pistols from the side hoisters under their coats and pointed them at the entrance. One of them, the man standing closest to the door, kept an eye on his wristwatch.
“They can’t hold their breaths that long,” said the one looking at his watch.
The four men in suits slipped on their gas masks and piled inside. The fumes poured out the door. The haze inside slowly faded as the men systematically inspected the premises. First, they kicked in the bathroom door but neither of their targets were inside. They then kicked open the bedroom door. One man kicked over the mattresses of each of the two single beds as his partner pointing his gun at the floor beneath. Another kicked open the closet door. There were only a handful of clothes inside and not enough to hide behind. Inside the kitchen, the fourth agent hastily swung open one cabinet door after another expecting to see the targets crouched inside.
“We turned the rat hole inside out and found nothing,” one of the agents bellowed. “Where the hell did they go?” Suddenly, two streams of fire snaked through the room and swallowed the guns of two of the agents along with the hand that held them. A fraction of a second later, two more streams of fire consumed the guns of the other two agents. The pain was too much for the agents to grip their guns.
“I’m right here.” Roy Mustang said. Hands partially raised and thumbs pressed against middle fingers poised ready to ignite a spark. “Hands up or else I turn this room into a blast furnace. The men submitted to Roy’s demands. “Did Fuhrer Sinclair send you?” All four men nodded. “How many more of you are there?” A bullet whizzed past Mustang’s face. The shot was fired by the man in the brown coat.
“Just one,” said the shooter.
“Fullmetal,” Mustang sneered. “You got a lot of guts showing your face.” Edward Elric smirked at his former commanding officer as he swaggered across the room. His semi-automatic pistol pointed at Roy’s head. “After everything I’ve done for you, you sold me out. How much did Lodestone paid for your soul?”
“The only traitor here is you!” Elric yelled. “When Riza first told me you planned on sacrificing yourself, I set her straight, and I thought she would talk you out of it. Instead, you were plotting to stab your own men in the back.” As Edward was giving Roy an earful, the agents picked up their weapons and trained them on Mustang.
“What does it matter to you? You were never in Ishval.”
“I don’t sell my friends out.”
“You’ve already had.”
“Where’s Lt. Hawkeye?”
“I told her to keep running.”
“You should have listened to your own advice, bastard. Cuff him.” Handcuffs clicked open in an agent’s hand.
Suddenly, shots rang out above just above the agents’ heads forcing them to duck. Just outside, Riza was taking precision aims with her bolt-action rifle and was taking shots close enough to unnerve the agents without hitting them. In the confusion, Mustang shoved Edward out of the way and ducked through the secret opening. The seams sealed shut as a spark of electricity traveled along it.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Edward yelled. “He’s getting away.”
When they made it outside, they could see Riza disappearing into a door that wasn’t there when they first staked out the back alley. Edward made a mad dash to the secret passage only to have it sealed off with alchemy.
“Dammit!” Edward cursed while kicking the wall. “We’ll split up.” He pointed to one agent. “You, come with me. The rest of you, go the other way.”
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The week in solitary confinement turned out much better than Sinclair had imagined. The guards, though gruff and unfriendly, were at least helpful. They supplied Sinclair with books to pass the time. The prison food wasn’t the best in the world but was still better than the cheap hay the Impostor fed Sinclair while in captivity. It was a pleasant surprise given how callous the princess acted towards him.
Sinclair was in the middle of reading a book on the founding of Equestria when the door swung open, and two prison guards wearing bronze armor trotted through.
“Her majesty wishes to speak with you,” one of the guards bellowed.
Sinclair closed the book and got on his hooves. “Just lead the way.”
“I’m already here.” The two guards stepped aside for Princess Celestia. “Leave us. I wish to speak to the prisoner in private.” The guards bowed their princess before leaving.
“Guards leaving royalty alone with a prisoner?!? Not very professional.”
“My guards are well aware that there is no pony in this prison that is able to harm me.”
“So, what do you want?”
“I received the official report from the mayor of Ponyville. Apparently, it was my subjects that started the fight but you used excessive force in defending yourself. I could keep you in prison for quite some time for going overboard.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I can only keep you in prison for so long. I would have to explain to my subjects why I was keeping a pony locked away for life over an assault charge. I’ll make you a deal. Keep up your charade. Pretend to be Wind Racer and never tell others the truth. In return, you’ll be a free stallion, though you may never set hoof outside of Canterlot. You will work in the palace and report directly to the captain of my royal guard. I believe you’ve met Shining Armor already.”
“I have.”
“If anypony asks how you were able to perform ‘magic’, you’ll tell them you had a unicorn friend casting spells for you, and that it was an act. If you tell any of my subjects about the outside world, I’ll have you declared insane and lock you away in a mental institution, and God help you if you use alchemy again. I suggest you accept my generous offer. It’s not so bad in Canterlot. You can make a life for yourself.”
Sinclair looked down and glowered. “I already had a life, but she didn’t want me in it,” he said in a defeated voice.
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What was the point of wearing clothes if it didn’t conceal the more ‘suggestive’ parts of the body Sinclair wondered? The red valet uniform only covered him from the waist up. Perhaps it was because they were on all fours and had a bushy tail that they never bothered covering themselves as it was hard to see that part of their body even without clothes. Then again, he had seen ponies with their tails up and standing on their hind legs without so much as a hint of shame.
The guard escorted Sinclair inside Shining Armor’s office. Plaques and framed medals alternated with pictures of him, his wife Cadence, Twilight Sparkle, and an older unicorn couple, most likely their parents, along the walls. Shining Armor had just finished putting on his chest plate.
“I wish to speak with the new employee in private,” Shining Armor commanded. The guard saluted and shut the door behind him.
Sinclair tensed up as Shining Armor set his cold, unsympathetic stare upon him.
“So, what’s it like killing innocent civilians?” Shining Armor did not attempt to hide his disgust and utter contempt. “It’s what you Amestrian state alchemists do, right? Kill children and females-your own kind, no less.”
“The princess told you?”
“You had us going for awhile. We scoured the country for a hairless ape and the whole time you were joyriding in the body of one of our own. If it wouldn’t break Captain Ripper’s heart to know what really happen to his son, I’d beg the princess to toss you in the dungeon and throw away the key. Now tell me-did you murder innocent civilians?”
“I didn’t. I would never. I only fought against Ishvalan resistance fighters.”
“You mean the ones defending their homeland from invaders. You’re still just as culpable. They weren’t able to protect their families because of you. What possessed you to do such a thing?”
“I wanted serve my country and protect it. I didn’t become a state alchemist to slaughter women and children.”
“And when you found out the truth? Did you leave?”
Sinclair hung his head down and droop his ears. “I stayed because I was afraid they would punish me for desertion.”
“So you’re a murderer and a coward!”
Sinclair mournfully looked down and nodded.
“I think I’ll stick you on latrine duty. You should be in good company with the other piles of manure.” Shining Armor turned his attention away from the object of his derision to his unannounced visitor.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” Cadence said with a tinge of apprehension in her voice. Shining Armor’s harsh demeanor softened in the presence of his wife.
“Not at all,” Shining Armor smiled. “I was just giving our new worker a head’s up on his duties.”
“So, you’re really a human?” Princess Cadence asked. “Your name’s Douglas Sinclair, isn’t it?”
Sinclair nodded. “Can you sense it like her? Like Princess Celestia?”
Cadence shook her head. “My powers are limited compared to my two aunts’.”
“I suppose now would be as good of a time as any to apologize for lying to everypony. I didn’t know how your kind would react or if you would even believe me. I was even afraid you’d think I was crazy.”
“Who is she?”
Sinclair gave Cadence a confused stare. “I beg your pardon.”
“Is she from your home country?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know the sound of a broken-hearted pony when I hear one. Do you have some special someone in your homeland?”
“You already met that special someone.”
“So you really do love Fluttershy? So I’m not losing my touch. I didn’t sense any insincerity in your feelings for her. I was a bit concerned that you manage to fool me into thinking you cared for her, but you really do. If you like, I could talk Fluttershy into coming to Canterlot...”
“That won’t be necessary. Fluttershy doesn’t want me anymore. Wind Racer, the real Wind Racer, did some...terrible things and...”
“Don’t you have some outhouses to clean?” Shining Armor snapped.
“Yes sir.” Sinclair dragged himself outside.
“That was rude.” Cadence frowned.
“Princess Celestia doesn’t want anypony else knowing who’s really is inside Wind Racer’s body.”
“He doesn’t have to tell Fluttershy everything-just that really cares about her.”
“Didn’t the princess tell you what that bastard did? He stood by and watched soldiers slaughtering civilians. As far as I’m concerned, he deserved to be locked away for life.”
“Would you lock my Aunt Luna in the dungeon with him as well?”
“Your aunt is a different case.” Shining Armor said defensively.
“She tried to plunge Equestria in eternal night, but you’re not threatening her with a life sentence.”
“Princess Luna is a good pony, putting her time as Nightmare Moon aside. I doubt the same could be said about this human.”
“And what about Fluttershy? Are you going to deprive her of happiness just to satisfy your sense of outrage?”
“There’re plenty of nice stallions out there that aren’t body-snatching hairless apes.”
“Funny, the only pony that struck a choir with Fluttershy was, as you crassly put it, the body-snatching ape.”
“Wait! Where are you going?” Shining Armor called out to Cadence as she was storming out of his office.
“To have a word with Auntie Celestia,” said Cadence before slamming the door behind her.
“Honey, wait!” Shining Armor galloped behind the shadow of his wife, who was gliding over the Canterlot courtyard, while weaving between the guards and maids running to and fro. By the time Shining Armor made it to the other side of the castle, Princess Cadence had already landed on the balcony to Princess Celestia’s bedroom in the castle’s highest tower. Shining Armor made it two-thirds of the way up the spiraling staircase when a small tremor erupted beneath his hooves.
“That don’t sound good,” Shining Armor said out loud. Near the top of the tower, waiting for him, was Cadence.
“It seems that you and Auntie Celestia are in agreement about Mr. Sinclair,” she said sulking.
“I’m sorry it turned out that way but the existence of humans has to be kept a secret.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for Fluttershy and Mr. Sinclair.”
“Fluttershy’ll get over. Time does heel all wounds after all.” Shining Armor forced himself to smile.
“Maybe you’re right. At least Mr. Sinclair has the manure to keep him company, right?” Princess Cadence held her nose up at her husband before flying off.
“Honey! Wait up!” Shining Armor cried out to his wife.
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Fluttershy took a deep breath to steady her nerves. The door to the Ponyville Library could have been the entrance to a dragon’s lair given the sensation of foreboding taxing her courage, which was already in short supply. Fluttershy’s inner monologue chuckled when she remembered, technically, the Ponyville Library was a dragon’s lair since her favorite dragon made his home there. It was enough to take the edge off the dread that came with confrontation. After taking another deep breath, Fluttershy charged inside and made it in a few steps before crashing head-on into a floating mound of books. The collision knocked her backward and unto her flank.
“Oh my Celestia!” Twilight cried out. The unicorn librarian parted the heap of fallen books and ran between them. “Are you okay?” Twilight gently rubbed Fluttershy’s forehead. “You’re not hurt are you?”
“Oh I’m not hurt, Twilight. But I knocked your books over.” Fluttershy was back on her hooves looking over the pile of books. “Were you trying to organize them?”
“I was, but it’s nothing to get upset over. It doesn’t take long to sort them out.”
“Can I help since...you know...I was the one who...?”
“Do you know anything about the Sun Dewy Decimal System?”
“Um...no.” Fluttershy hung her head down.
“I suppose you could shelf them as I sort them out.”
Fluttershy enthusiastically darted back and forth between the book pile and whatever spot on the book shelves Twilight pointed to. About halfway through the task, a look of apprehension was becoming noticeable on Twilight’s face. The floor shrieked in protest as the unicorn slid her back hoof back and forth along its surface. Her breathing sped up. Her mane was moist with nervous sweat.
Fluttershy hovered in a place for a moment watching her nervous friend. Oh Twilight *must be* mad at me. She’s flustered and barely able to control her temper. Maybe I should ask her about Wind Racer some other...
“Fluttershy, I...um...” Twilight stumbled, “...you see...I”
“You really are mad at me.”
“No! That’s not it at all. You see...I know it’s hard to ask...about...you know...”
“I know what?”
“...well...” Twilight took a deep breath and blurted out. “IhavetoknowifWindRacercancastspells!”
“What did you say?”
Twilight groaned when she realized she say everything too fast. “I’m sorry to ask you so soon about Wind Racer, but he was casting spells before he ran off to Canterlot.”
“That’s what I came here to ask you, Twilight. Is it true? Did he hurt somepony with magic?”
“Oh did he ever...” Twilight slapped a hoof against her mouth. “What I meant to say that they’ll be alright. Well after another month in the hospital. What I need to know is if he cast spells in front of you.”
Fluttershy shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him use magic.”
“Fluttershy, I know I shouldn’t be talking to you about Wind Racer, but...it wasn’t so much what Wind Racer did as much as what Celestia said he did.”
“So he really did beat those bullies up for saying bad things about me?”
“Wha...”
“Berry Punch told me that Wind Racer was letting those bullies beat him up until they said mean things about me and then he use magic to...hurt them,” Fluttershy bemoaned.
“I didn’t catch that part. I came in afterwards, and I wouldn’t take Berry Punch too seriously. She thought those bullies were Rainbow Dash’s boyfriends.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Fluttershy sighed.
“What I really wanted to talk about is what happened after the fight. Princess Celestia said Wind Racer was putting on an act and that the spells were being cast by a unicorn. She even said Wind Racer confessed to it.”
“Oh he isn’t too much trouble is he?” Fluttershy blurted out. “I meant, so what if he’s in trouble. It’s none of my…um...concern.” Fluttershy wasn’t doing a good job convincing Twilight that she didn’t care.
“I think they’re letting him out of the dungeon because they attacked him first. But the reason why I asked about Wind Racer, and I apologize for bringing him up, is because...I can’t believe the princess.”
“Did you say you don’t believe the princess?!?” Fluttershy gasped.
“The magic didn’t feel like pony magic at all. It felt like Wind Racer was pulling energy out of the ground and channeling it. I can tell when a unicorn is using magic of that strength, and it wasn’t coming from a unicorn. I think she’s being deceived by Wind Racer. But when I sent a letter to the princess telling her of my suspicions, she ordered me not to pursue the matter further.”
“But she did the same when you told her about Nightmare Moon.”
“No, it wasn’t the same. She ordered me to make friends when I warned her about Nightmare Moon. This time she told me flat out to forget what happened. She even said I didn’t know what I was talking about. The princess scolded me before but not because I brought something up in a letter.” Twilight Sparkle slump her shoulders and stared at Fluttershy. “The princess wouldn’t lie to me...would she?”
“I...um...don’t think so. It doesn’t sound like something she would do.”
Twilight forced herself to smile. “You’re right Fluttershy. It must have been the shock of seeing Wind Racer ***pretending*** to perform magic that threw me off guard. That had to be it.”
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“Sorry that the captain is making you clean this mess up on your first week?” The unicorn guard asked. He led the way through the underground sewer system. The magical light shining from his horn cut through the darkness. Behind the guard was Sinclair who was pulling a garbage cart overflowing with his janitorial equipment. “Must be Tartarus for you.”
“I don’t mind. Somepony has to do it.”
“Is it true you’re the son of the previous captain? I enlisted when Shining Armor was in charge.”
Sinclair nodded. “Sky Ripper’s my old man.”
“Did he have a grudge against your father? I mean, you’re doing all the grungy work.”
“It’s a personal thing between me and him.”
“I thought so. Captain Armor is usually friendly with the castle staff.” They stopped at a tunnel intersecting the passageway. The bottom was covered in a layer of green and black gunk. The smell was absolute putrid.
“Mind me asking what he has against you?”
“I do. It’s confidential.”
“I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Don’t fret over it. You didn’t. I just can’t talk about it.”
“I don’t know how the drainage system sprung a leak big enough to get this much mud.”
“Manure happens, I suppose. Well, every journey starts with a first step.” Sinclair began emptying this cart of tools. The first item was a kerosene lantern. Sinclair struck a match that he kept in his saddlebag and lit the lantern’s wick. The guard was about to leave when something caught his eye. Sinclair had unloaded a large metal box from the cart. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That,” the guard said as he pointed to the metal box. “What’s inside?”
“My water canteen and lunch.”
“You’re eating...here?” The guard cringed.
“It’s a long way back, and I like to relax on lunch breaks.”
“Well, good luck with that.” The guard said before disappearing around the corner.
Sinclair stepped softly looking around the bend for any signs of eavesdropping. When he was certain that there were no guards around, Sinclair galloped back to the edge of the pond of muck. A gas bubble, the size of a hoof, popped. Chunks of the black and green ooze spread over the cart. Sinclair took a whiff and fanned the noxious scent from his nose. He clapped his hooves together and dipped them in the noxious gunk. The tunnel lit up with the blue-white light of a transmutation. A mound of sludge slinked towards the wagon. It rose up and then the top portion arched forward into the cart until it was half-filled.
That should be enough to make it look like I’m working. Sinclair then willed the remaining sludge back into the flooded portion of the tunnel. There was a trail leading from the filth-infested tunnel to the wagon, but it wouldn’t be noticed until it was too late for the pony princess and his jailer to stop him. Sinclair wiggled out of valet vest and tossed it and his hat into the muck. He then transmuted the muck again. It gathered inside the vest and beneath the hat until it was molded into the distinctive shape of a pony. The mud sculpture shrank as the transmutation process dehydrated the muck into dried out mud. Unfortunately, halfway through the process, the head fell off.
The mud isn’t strong enough. I wonder if I could strength it. He would need straw or some other plant fiber to help hold it together. The only source was the cart itself. With one powerful back kick, Sinclair broke off one of the planks of wood that composed the sides of the wagon and slid it in the gunk-infested tunnel. Another kick broke apart the failed mud sculpture. Sinclair first transmuted the plank into wood fibers and then, after stirring the strands in the muck, transmuted another sculpture. This time, the sculpture didn’t fall apart. Sinclair then leaned a shovel against the decoy.
That should buy me enough time. Now for the finishing touch. Sinclair popped open the box and pulled out a second lantern, a spindle of electrical wiring, and a box attacked to one end of the wires.
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The guard who escorted Sinclair through the underground passages was making his rounds, this time with a pegasus guard.
“And why are you dragging me down this manure hole again?” The pegasus disdainfully asked.
“Somepony said he saw the new guy sneaking off during his shift. I’m just double-checking to make sure.”
“Is that him?” Just as they turned the corner, the light from the unicorn guard’s horn shined on the partially filled cart and decoy, but just enough to see their outline and to outshine the lantern Sinclair left behind.
“You see. He’s still here.” The pegasus guard said.
The unicorn stared at the decoy suspiciously. “Hold on a sec. That guy hasn’t moved since we got here,” he said.
“He’s probably taking a breather,” said the pegasus.
“I’m not leaving until I...”
“Don’t come in here!” A voice that resembled Sinclair’s cried from the end of the tunnel. “I’m not done cleaning.”
“Wind Racer, we’re just here checking on you.”
“I said don’t come in. This place is a mess.”
“Do you need help?” The unicorn guard asked.
“Don’t come in here!” Sinclair repeated. “I’m not done cleaning.”
“Come on,” said the pegasus, “if this flankhole wants to cop an attitude, let him clean this place up by himself.
“I don’t know about...”
“I said don’t come in. This place is...”
“We heard you the first time!” The unicorn guard yelled.
“...a mess.”
“Fine! We’re leaving but don’t expect anypony to help you.” The unicorn guard stormed off with the pegasus guard tagging behind.
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Ticket Taker, the earth pony stallion manning the ticket booth, never had anypony tip him, till today. An earth pony with green-blue fur and a blonde mane, both of which were dripping wet but blessedly absent of the foul wet fur odor, dropped a diamond the size of a pony’s head on his desk.
“One ticket to Vanhoover, please.”
“Sorry, but I don’t have change for this much diamond.”
“Then, in that case, keep it.”
Ticket Taker held a hoof within an inch of his mouth and gasped. “You mean the change?”
Sinclair nodded. “No big deal for me,” he said while wearing the most arrogant smirk he could muster. “The son of a former captain of the guard can afford it.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Ticket Taker said gleefully. “Hey, aren’t you the pegasus who lost his wings and got disowned by his father?”
“Right on both accounts. Name’s Wind Racer.”
“I hate to pry but the rumors said you were...dirt poor. But...but this...” Ticket Taker pointed to the giant diamond.
“Let’s just say the old stallion’s a big softy at heart and very, very forgiving.”
“Would you like first class, sir?”
“I wouldn’t travel any other way.”
Ticket Taker tore off a ticket and spat it on the counter. “Thank you so much, sir,” he said with a smile from ear-to-ear.
“Hey, when you got it, you flaunt it,” said Sinclair, still putting on his cocky, arrogant rich kid act. I’m sorry for giving you that transmuted zirconium knockoff, but this is an emergency.
Sinclair trotted over to an outhouse and ducked inside. There was no light inside except for the morning sun that beamed through the crescent moon cut in the door and the crack at the bottom. Sinclair laid the ticket on the floor where the light was pouring in. He tapped his right forehoof against his left and touched the ticket. A miniscule spark danced along the print.
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“Last call for the Mi Amore Cadenza Line!” The conductor, a gray earth pony with the brown walrus mustache, called out. “Alllll aboard!” One by one, the conductor checked everypony’s ticket before permitting them to board the unusually decorative train.
When it was time to check the last pony’s ticket, the conductor put a hoof in his way.
The pony dropped his carry-on luggage. “Did I do sumthin’ wrong?” The last pony to board the train had a mane that was a darker shade of orange than his fur and wore a cowboy hat and vest.
“Let me see your ticket, son,” the conductor said dispassionately. “This train is completely booked. Are you sure this is your ride?”
“I reckon this is mah train. It’s the one goin’ to Appleloosa?”
“It is, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the next train, son. We’re at full capacity.”
“I reckon I ain’t got no other choice,” said the disappointed earth pony. “Cousin Noteworthy sho’ will be disappointed that I came home late on account he’s a foalsittin’ mai little sister and she’s a hoofful.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but safety regs say we’re at peak capacity. I’ll have a word with Ticket Taker about overbooking trains.” The conductor closed the door on the orange pony. “Next stop-Ponyville, Hoofington, Tunestone, and Appleloosa.”
“Excuse me sir?” One of the passengers, a green-blue pony with a blonde mane asked.
“Yes?”
“Is Ponyville the first stop?”
“It is, so don’t get too comfortable. It’s doesn’t take long to get there.”
“Thank you, sir.” The conductor trotted through the passenger car to the front.
“Hey mister, what happened to your back?” A young curious earth pony filly pointed to the pair of symmetrical scars on the back of the green-blue pony. “How did you get those boo-boos? Were those wings?”
“Leave that stallion alone,” the grown mare, whom the filly sat beside, scolded.
“She’s not bothering me,” the stallion smiled. “Yes, I used to have wings. I was in an accident.”
“That’s awful,” the little filly frowned. “Mister, if you wish on a falling star, you might get your wings back.”
“Why thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome Mister.”
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“Last I checked, he was busy cleaning out the tunnel as you ordered, sir,” the unicorn guard said. Both he and the other guard that accompanied him on his last visit followed Shining Armor through the passageway.
“Then he must have stayed here the whole time,” Shining Armor scowled.
“I suppose he probably did a little work and then goofed off the rest of the day, sir.”
“Looks like you’re right,” said the pegasus guard. “That cart hasn’t been touched since our last visit.”
“You lazy good-for-nothing,” Shining Armor sneered as he glared at ‘Sinclair’. “Don’t bother putting on an act for us. Put that shovel down and dump what you got. You can finish up tomorrow but don’t expect to get paid for not working today.” Shining Armor was growing impatient with ‘Sinclair’. “Look, drop the act and come with us. Play time’s over and we’re not leaving you down here overnight.” There was still no response from ‘Sinclair’. “Do I have to drag your worthless flank back?” At this point, Shining Armor has had all the insubordination he could stomach. “Fine, have it your way.” The two guards looked back and forth between each other and the infuriated Shining Armor, bewildered that anypony would give the captain of the royal guard the silent treatment.
“Don’t come in here! I’m not done cleaning!”
“Wanna bet?” Shining Armor bellowed. The two guards trailed behind him, fearful of what their captain might do.
“I said don’t come in. This place is a mess.”
“Of course it’s a mess, you did nothing in the entire...” Shining Armor was close enough to see that the pony he was scolding was actually a mud sculpture fitted with the valet uniform.
“How in Tartarus did you not notice that?” Shining Armor yelled at his subordinates.
The two guards looked over the mud decoy. “But he was only here a few hours.”
“That doesn’t make a difference!” Shining Armor yelled at the guards. “You weren’t keeping an eye on him as I ordered.”
“But sir, I heard him talking to us. You heard him too,” said the unicorn guard defensively.
“No, we heard this.” Shining Armor pointed to a record player sitting inside a metal box.
The two guards looked it over. “How is that possible? It’s not playing,” said the unicorn guard. He waved his horn over the record player. “I can’t sense any enchantments.
“Where’s the on-off switch?” The pegasus asked. The switch to turn on the record player was missing. There was, however, wire running from the hole in the panel where the switch should have been. Shining Armor followed the wire to a rectangular object with a gage of some sort. When he was a few feet away, the gage needle swung from the left to the right.
“Don’t come in here! I’m not done cleaning!” Both guards jumped back. “I said don’t come in. This place is...” The record player shut off and reset its needle arm back its original position when Shining Armor backed away. Shining Armor inched closer until the gage needle swung to the right. “Don’t come in here! I’m not done...”
“I thought you said it didn’t have an enchantment,” said the pegasus guard.
“I’ll check again.”
“Don’t bother,” said Shining Armor. He levitated his helmet and waved it over the device.
“Don’t come in here! I’m not...” The record player was silence when Shining Armor pulled the helmet away. He yanked the wires off the device and levitated it to eye level. Once again, the gage needle went up. “That thing-it’s a battery that powers the record player whenever it detects anything made of metal, like our armor. Shining Armor tossed the device against the tunnel wall smashing it to pieces.
“Sir, permission to inform the head of the palace staff of this infraction,” the unicorn guard said with a tinge of attrition in his voice. “It is the least I can do to make up for neglecting...”
“Don’t bother. When I find him, Wind Racer is going to the Canterlot dungeons for the rest of his miserable existence.” Shining Armor stormed off.
“Remind me not to play hooky from work again,” the pegasus guard said to his unicorn compatriot.
“Only if you promise to do the same for me.”
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The commotion outside, muffled through the window pane, drew Cup Cake’s attention. She set aside the choir of icing a birthday cake and looked outside. Ponyville, before Cup Cake’s eyes, was becoming a ghost town. The air of dread permeating the streets compelled ponies to drop what they were doing, even discarding their belongings, and seek shelter behind locked doors. Foals were snatched up while in the middle of playtime and dragged back to their parents’ home. Cup Cake’s skin was crawling. She was concentrating on repressing her primal fear when something banging against the wall in the front of the store startled her. “Carrot dear, what’s that racket?!?”
“Just barricading the door dear,” Carrot Cake called out. Cup Cake dropped her icing dispenser and hurried to the other room where her husband was stacking furniture against the entrance.
“What the hay are you doing?”
Carrot Cake paused and turned to his wife. “Honey bun, this is not a good time to argue.” He was about to slide another chair against the door when Cup Cake stepped in the way.
“You’re not stacking anything else against this door until you tell me what’s going on,” Cup Cake scolded her husband.
“It’s Wind Racer,” Carrot Cake whispered in a harsh tone. Immediately, Cup Cake did an about-face, raced to the nearest table, and pressed her forehead against it pushing it to the door. The table left a trail of scratches as it dragged along the floor.
“Don’t just stand there.”
“Oh right, honey bun,” said Carrot Cake. He helped his wife heaved the table near the door. Carrot placed his head on the underside of the table and flipped it over. Both of the Cakes jumped at the sound of a hoof knocking on the other side of the door.
“Sorry, we’re closed for renovations,” Cup Cake cried out.
“Yeah, come back next year,” said Carrot Cake.
“I just need to speak to Pinkie Pie,” Sinclair pleaded.
“She’s...out of town.”
“No I’m not,” Pinkie Pie said while hopping down the stairway from her room. She tilted her head examining the thrown-together barricade. “Whacha doing?”
“That’s a great Pinkie Pie impression, Sugarcube.”
“An impression?!? Oh right! Why thank you for noticing, sweetheart,” Cup Cake accepted her husband’s fake compliment.
“That wasn’t Auntie Cup Cake. That was me talking,” Pinkie Pie said obliviously.
“Shhhh!” Both Cakes hissed.
“Pinkie Pie, it’s me, Wind Racer. We need to talk.”
“Oh no we don’t! I got nothing to say to you Mr. Meanie Cheater.”
“Look, please this is very important.”
“I won’t talk to you after you made my two of my bestest best friends cry.”
Suddenly, an electric arc danced up the wall etching a new door in its path. Sinclair trotted through.
“No fair using your creepy magic, Mr. Creepy Meanie Cheater!”
“Look,” said Carrot Cake, “we don’t want any trouble.”
“I’m not here to start any. I just want to talk to Pinkie Pie.”
“Can’t you take a hint Mr. Pushy Creepy Meanie Cheater!” Pinkie Pie sneered. “I’m not talking to you.” Pinkie Pie held up her nose.”
“You know that flying machine you showed me at the engagement party?”
“It was a ‘Coming Home to an Engagement’ Party and I wished I never threw that party for you, not that I don’t like parties but I won’t throw any for you. And if you want my flying doohickey, you can forget it, Mr. Grabby Pushy Creepy Meanie Cheatie.”
“Mrs. Cake, I overheard you talking about how your oven was getting old and in need of replacing.”
“Well yes, so?” A perplexed Mrs. Cake answered. “But that’s none of your concern.”
“Would a new stove cover the cost of what’s left of that flying machine?” Sinclair said as he made his way to their kitchen. “Twenty bits should do it?” The Cakes and Pinkie Pie followed him as they eyed Sinclair with suspicion.
“I don’t care if it’s worth just one bit, I’m not selling...” Pinkie Pie was struck dumbfounded when Sinclair transmuted the Cakes’ old oven into a brand-new stainless steel version.
Mr. Cake raced across the kitchen and was face-to-face with Sinclair. “What in Tartarus did you do to our oven...if you don’t mind me asking?” Mr. Cake backed away when he remembered who he was staring down.
“Try it out and see for yourself.”
Mrs. Cake turned the temperature dial for the oven and opened it. “The pilot light is out.”
She turned the dial back off and retrieved a match from one of the drawers. The matched was struck and held it over the pilot light holder. The oven’s interior was bathed in a blue glow. Mrs. Cake then turned the oven back on. She held out her hoof just an inch into the oven.
“Honeybun, is it working?” Carrot Cake called out.
Cup Cake lifted the stove top and lit the pilot lights as well. “Carrot, the burners are on.”
“But you didn’t tap it,” said Carrot Cake.
“I didn’t need to. It’s working just like it did when we first bought it.”
“That should be worth twenty bits,” said Sinclair.
“Are you kidding?” Cup Cake asked rhetorically. “We’d pay twice as much just for Fixer-Up just to look...” Cup Cake was silenced when her husband muffled her muzzle with his hoof.
“Twenty bits is a perfectly fair price,” said Carrot Cake who didn’t want Sinclair raising the price.
“Just give it to Pinkie Pie for the flying machine.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Carrot Cake hesitantly. “Pinkie Pie, would you...”
“Absolutely not! I don’t care if it’s only worth one bit. He doesn’t deserve it. That was a wedding gift, and you’re not marrying Fluttershy.”
Sinclair turned his back on them. “Do you think I don’t know that,” he said in a horsed voice. “Look, do you want Fluttershy to be happy?”
“Well duh!”
“And the further away I am, the happier she’ll be, right?” Sinclair dropped his head and sighed.
“I suppose.”
“That flying machine will take me far away....” Sinclair choked, “...from Ponyville, further than even the trains.”
“You must be loco in the coco. You’re not going anywhere with it. It’s all in teeny tiny pieces.”
“That won’t be a problem for me. I’ll put the stove back the way it was if you don’t sell it.”
“You can’t do that!” Carrot Cake protested. “I mean to say, I’d gladly pay more to keep it fixed.”
“If I back-tracked my transmutation and restored the stove back to its original state, you can’t really complain.”
Pinkie Pie held her chin in her hoof and contemplated Sinclair’s offer. “You promise to go far, far away?”
“Farther than you can imagine.”
“You pinkie-promise?”
“I promise.”
“No,” Pinkie Pie shook her head. “You have to pinkie-promise.”
“Very well, I pinkie-promise to go far, far away.”
“And never return.”
“And never return.”
“Now look me in the eyes and say it.”
Sinclair turned around and wiped his bloodshot eyes. “I pinkie-promise to go far, far away and never return.”
The red eyes and moist cheeks did not escaped Pinkie Pie’s attention. In fact, it was all she could focus on. She shook her head clear and hastened upstairs. A minute later, the rumbling sound of metal banging against metal accompanied the sack Pinkie was dragging from her room.
“It’s all yours, Mr. Beggy Grabby Pushy Creepy Meanie Cheater.”
“Thanks,” Sinclair mumbled. He bit into the top of the bag and dragged the clattering parts outside.
“Just remember to keep your pinkie-promise,” Pinkie Pie said without a hint of sympathy, “though you won’t go very far with it broken all to pieces...Oh that’s right. You have your creepy non-unicorn magic.” Pinkie Pie had to correct herself when Sinclair transmuted the broken pieces together. It was back to its normal state. “Just be careful and not to get hurt...even if you’re a big beggy, grabby, pushy, creepy, meanie cheater.” Pinkie Pie almost shut the door behind her when she peered outside. “And don’t forget to unmake your weird non-unicorn magic door.”
“I’ll take care of it right away.” Sinclair transmuted the door back to being part of the outside wall to Sugarcube Corner. A few seconds later, the town echoed with doors and shutters slamming shut. Behind Sinclair were ponies hiding in the confines of their homes watching him.
Looks like I’ve worn out my welcome. They’re all afraid of me. It’s just like old times after the Ishvalan War. Everypon...everyone learned to fear state alchemists once the stories of the war atrocities broke out. It’s not much more different with these ponies. Sinclair sighed and slipped on a helmet he stashed beside the front door of Sugarcube Corner. A prayer to a god that he stopped believing in an entire lifetime ago escaped his lips.
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The passenger on the train to Vanhoover was stirred from their car was lit up like a jack-o-lantern on Nightmare Night and the noise of hooves darting along the trotway.
“Keep down that there racket,” a mare, with a pale gold-colored coat of fur and a mane with alternating stripes of chartreuse green and light spring bud not unlike a watermelon, said in a deep Southern accent. “Some ponies got chickens to feed in the mornin’.” She cupped her mouth when she got a good look at the gold armor sported by the unicorns illuminating the passenger card. “Palace guards?!? Imma so sorry fer back-talkin’ yer.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn there was a Wonderbolt crossing into the next car.
The closest unicorn guard pulled out a photo of Sinclair from under his gold armor. “Ma’am, have you seen this stallion. He’s a pegasus stallion six and one-quarter hooves tall and has a bluish-green coat, blonde mane, and a cutie mark of a cloud with wings and speedlines.”
“Well, I can see that mahself from that there picture of yers...’cept for the cutie mark. His backside’s turned away.”
“Also, his wings were amputated.”
“Aw that po’old pegasus. He ain’t hurt bad, is he?”
“He’s in no physical pain that I was informed of, ma’am.”
The mare shook her head. “I’m sorry I can’t help yer. I’d remember seein’ a pegasus with his wings missin’.”
“Thank you for your time.”
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“And no passengers saw him on the train?” Shining Armor asked. Under the bright full moon, the royal guards were lined up about ten yards from the tracks, mostly the pegasi division with a few unicorns mixed in the group and a squadron of Wonderbolts. The train to Vanhoover sunk beneath the horizon leaving behind only a trail of black smoke. “He obviously wasn’t on the train else we’d have him here in leg stocks.”
One of the guards timidly spoke up. “Sir, I personally questioned the conductor. He never saw Wind Racer board the train.”
“Maybe he got off at Sesaddle and went on hoof.”
“Then what about the conductor? And the other passengers? Nopony remembered him being on the train.”
“Is it possible they saw him and just don’t remember?”
“Sorry, but I’d remembered a pegasus that was missing his wings and so would any other pony?”
“What if he wore something to cover them up, like an earth pony saddle?”
“Dammit!” The guards all flinched Shining Armor yelled out and stomped the ground. “Everypony except Long Wing and Soaring Justice, form a search pattern along the tracks and cover the amount of area that a pony on hoof could cover given what we know about the train’s schedule.” He then said to two pegasi hitched to a chariot. “You two, get me back to Canterlot. I believe he might have gone on hoof, and I think I know where.”
“But what about the search party?” One of the hitched pegasi asked.
“It’s just in case I’m wrong.”
“And remember what I said about confronting Wind Racer-Do. Not. Watch him from the air and report his location to me or the princesses if I’m not back from Canterlot. Do not attempt to apprehend him yourselves unless he threatens somepony’s life. And if you somehow manage to capture him, put him in the leg stocks.”
“Captain Armor,” a Wonderbolt with a fiery mane of orange and amber spoke up as Shining Armor mounted a chariot, “I know Captain Ripper’s son personally. He’s a completely flankhole, but I doubt he’s capable of hurting anypony.”
Shining Armor paused with a hoof on the chariot and the others on the parched earth and stood silent.
“Wind Racer isn’t himself.”
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Fluttershy felt like a blessed mare, or at the very least, she gained a new found appreciation for her animal friends. It was their constant chirps, croaks, quacks, barks, meows, clucks, and squeaks of encouragement that saw her through her bad break-up with her ex-fiancé. The pats on the back from her furry, feathered, and even scaly friends kept her going. And it was time to give back. She wasn’t in the mood for parties, but candy-coated sweets were not out of the question.
“Come out little fellows. I have something special for you.” Birds of different shapes, colors, and sizes came together as one flock from the forest and converged on Fluttershy’s roof. On the ground were ferrets, mice, rats, lizards, foxes, cats, dogs, chickens, and even one grumpy bear gathered around Fluttershy’s cottage.
“Pinkie Pie and I made these for you with leftover chocolate and sprinkles from Sugarcube Corner. I know it isn’t much and this was all I could afford, but I have to show how grateful I was that you...” Fluttershy swallowed and tried with all of her fortitude to keep her composure. “I’m grateful that you were at my side cheering me up after Win...” The sorrow was too much for Fluttershy to bear. She broke down and began sobbing uncontrollably. The animals huddled around her stroking her fur.
On a nearby hill, Sinclair watched from a distance while on the flying machine formerly owned by Pinkie Pie. On his body were cuts and bruises from his earlier failed attempts at flying. It was his helmet and some of the natural flying instincts from his current body that kept his injuries down to only cuts and bruises. When he got in touch with his inner pegasus, Sinclair felt at home in the sky. It was like he was meant to be here. Was that why Wind Racer hated him so much? He felt a little bad that he deprived him of his ability to fly...a little. Sinclair shook his head trying to clear his mind of any feelings of sympathy. He doesn’t deserve it, not after the way he treated Fluttershy. The flankhole squandered a life that Sinclair would have given anything for. It was then he remembered the red and yellow flower he was planning to give Fluttershy. He dug into his backpack and found it wilted and brown. So much had happened that it slipped his mind that he didn’t bother planting it in a flower pot, and now it’s dead.
Some part of Sinclair didn’t want to let go. It was too painful to think of a future without the mare that he loved so dearly. Maybe she’s talking about me. Maybe she was just angry, and I just have to talk to her. He was tempted to take off the helmet that muffled Fluttershy’s already distant voice and listen in...just in case.
No, don’t. Don’t bother eavesdropping. Let it go. The past is long gone.
But what if...
I said let it go. Look, she doesn’t want Wind Racer. And telling her the truth would upset her even more. Not to mention Princess Celestia will cart you off to prison anyway.
Sinclair tilted his chin and sighed. You’re right. Fluttershy’s happier without me. She doesn’t need me. She doesn’t even want me around.
Quit torturing yourself. It was never meant to be. You have a duty to save Amestris. It was your alchemy that gave Wind Racer a human body and the opportunity to take over your *real* homeland. No Amestrian should have to suffer for your mistakes.
Sinclair concluded his conversion with his inner critic and headed for the Everfree Forest.
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“BBBFF, what brings you to Ponyville?” Twilight Sparkle gave her older brother, Shining Armor, a big hung. “Shining, what’s wrong?” She was disheartened that her brother did not return her affect. “Is there something wrong?”
“Twi, I wish I could spend some quality time with you, but I’m on urgent business. I have to speak with Pinkie Pie.”
“Oh sure, no problem. Sugar Cube Corner should be open by now.”
“And bring Spike with you.”
“But why?”
“Just do it!” Shining Armor snapped.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Twilight stuttered.
“It’s okay, Twi. I’m not mad, but this is an emergency. So, please hurry.
Oh, and don’t forgot to bring that paper you write your friendship lessons on and something to write with.”
“You have a message for the princess?”
“Twi, please don’t waste time talking. Just get it.”
“Oh right.” Twilight galloped to her library home, and, a minute later, came back with a very sleepy baby dragon riding on her back.”
“Hey S.A.,” Spike yawned, “can’t it wait. I stayed up till eight last night.”
“No, it can’t. Now take me to Pinkie Pie.”
Brother and sister galloped to Sugarcube Corner. Cup Cake was behind the counter manning the register.
“Oh hello, dear,” Cup Cake greeted.
“Mrs. Cake, where’s Pinkie Pie?” Twilight asked.
Cup Cake looked over her shoulder to the kitchen. “Pinkie, Twilight’s here to see you. And she brought Spike and her brother...” She then looked at Shining Armor. “What was your name? I’m sorry but I’m good with faces and terrible with names.”
“It’s Shining Armor.”
“Her brother’s Shining Armor is here too.” Cup Cake called out.
Pinkie Pie trotted out of the kitchen oblivious to the tension in the room. “Oh, hi Twilight. Hi Spike. Hey Shining Armor.”
“Pinkie, listen to me carefully,” said Shining Armor. “Have you seen Wind Racer?” Cup Cake grimaced at the mention of Wind Racer. “I take it he was here.”
“Yep,” Pinkie Pie nodded. “He was like all bargy-inny. Auntie and Uncle Cake told him ‘you can’t come in’ and he was like ‘I’ll make a door with my freaky magic and break in because I'm Mr. Beggy Grabby Pushy Creepy Meanie Cheater’.” Pinkie Pie said in a deep, gruff voice.
“Pinkie Pie, this is very important-did you give Wind Racer your flying machine.”
“Oh no, I’d never give that meanie anything.”
“Oh that’s good.”
“I sold it to him,” Pinkie Pie said with an oblivious smile. Shining Armor hung his head down and facehoofed.
“Pinkie,” said Twilight, “why would you sell your flying machine to Wind Racer of all ponies, even after what he’s done to Fluttershy, to Applejack.”
“Because I made him pinkie-promise to go far, far away. And that’ll make Fluttershy very, very happy.”
“Pinkie Pie,” Shining Armor groaned while still facehoofing, “Wind Racer isn’t supposed to go far, far away.”
“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked.
“Wind Racer only served a week in the dungeon on the condition he would stay in Canterlot.”
“He did?!?” Pinkie Pie asked.
Shining Armor jotted his message to the princess and levitated the paper in front of Spike. “Well? What are you waiting for?” Spike breathed on the paper reducing it to ashes that drifted away in the general direction of Canterlot.
It didn’t take long before Spike burped up Celestia’s reply letter. Out of instinct, Twilight reached out for the paper with her magic before Shining Armor snatched it from her and gave his sister a sour look.
“This is a matter of national security. That means ‘top secret’.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I’m used to having those letters sent to me.”
Shining Armor levitated the letter in front of Twilight. “Here.”
“Look, I said I was sorry for trying to read your private mail. You don’t have to shove it in my face.”
“No, that’s not it. The princess addressed this to you. It’s for you too, Pinkie Pie. In fact, it’s for all of you.”
Twilight glanced over the letter. “She wants to meet up with all six of us in person at Fluttershy’s place.”
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Sinclair was finishing his check list before crossing the Iapetus Ocean-one thick blanket, an overcoat that doubles as another blanket, hay-and-oak bars to break the monotony of seaweed, compass, and a book on navigation. All paid for with his ill-transmuted precious gems. At least he didn’t cheat Pinkie Pie. The feelings of guilt would be twice as bad had he cheated one of Fluttershy’s close friends. Sinclair then checked the modifications made to Pinkie Pie’s flying machine: the candy-cane striped designed was now black, the sunflower and spinning top in the back was fused into a side propeller to provide counter-torque for stability (how Pinkie Pie managed to pilot her flying machine without it, Sinclair couldn’t figure out), and the single candy-cane slide was now a pair of pontoons.
Sinclair shivered in the cool morning breeze blowing across the water and unto the rocky beach. And nestled in the rocks was a colony of birds. Sinclair recognized the birds from his days experimenting in biological alchemy as Drachma terns. These seagull-like birds were recognizable by the black spot covering the top half their head that contrasted with their otherwise pure white-feathered body. This must have been how Wind Racer found his way to Amestris. These birds cross over the continent to their wintering grounds in Drachma, and Wind Racer followed them to Amestris. Ornithologists theorized Rodinia was their nesting grounds and have been gnawing at the bit to confirm their hypothesis. If they don’t dissect me, I’ll pass on words to them about...no, this place has to be kept a secret. I owe it to the other ponies and, most of all, to Fluttershy. I don’t want this world to be another sphere of influence for an imperial nation. They don’t deserve such a fate.
Sinclair couldn’t wait for the next migration season. It would be useful. Sinclair’s plan was to go northwest and land somewhere between Aerugo and Nipan. He would also have to settle with transmuting icebergs for his rest stops rather than the islands dotting the ocean, which the birds were led to by their animal instinct. He toyed with the idea of sleeping on the clouds at night but they wouldn’t support the flying machine, and he’d be left stranded in the sky with no way to get back down except via a death plunge.
Satisfied with his final check, Sinclair mounted the flying machine and hastily sped across the barrier of rocks guarding the shoreline. Fortunately, whatever ‘magic’ Princess Celestia used to control the weather did not perceive Sinclair as a threat. Either that or the ocean squall protecting Rodinia permits vehicles to leave but not to enter, not that it matters anyway. There was nothing left but the tortuous hell of having perfect happiness within hoof’s reach but more distant than the furthest star in the night sky.
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Applejack followed Rainbow Dash into Fluttershy’s little cottage. There, waiting inside, was Fluttershy, Twilight, Spike, Rarity, and Pinkie Pike congregating in the living room.
“Rainbow Dash told me the princess had sumthin’ important to tell us,” said Applejack. “Does anypony knows wut it is?”
Twilight shook her head. “She said to wait for her, which won’t be long. Spike?” Twilight levitated a letter just above Spike’s head.
“Gotcha covered,” Spike said before incinerating the letter in dragon fire.
Instantly, Princess Celestia appeared before the Bearers in a burst of radiant light. As usual, everyone in the room bowed to the monarch. However, when Twilight stood upright on all fours, she caught a glimpse of something she’d never seen before. Since she was a filly, Twilight spent half of her young adult life with Celestia and never saw this side of her before. A miasma of guilt hovered over her teacher/princess/goddess like a dismal fog left by neglectful pegasi that lingers over the land and drowns out all color.
“Your majesty, is there something wrong?” Twilight asked.
“There is very much that is wrong, my pupil.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If ya lit the princess explain, ya would,” Applejack scolded the purple unicorn. “Go ‘head yer majesty. We’re all ears.”
“Huh!” Pinkie Pie gasped. “If you’re all ears, does that mean you turned your apple farm into a corn farm.”
“Pinkie!” Twilight snapped.
“Just checking?”
“I wish you’d save the humor for another day, Pinkie Pie,” said Celestia. “I brought you here for a very important mission. The pony you know as Wind Racer, against my command to stay in Canterlot, have more than likely, fled into the Everfree Forest.”
“Oh no what if he gets...I mean,” Fluttershy corrected herself, “...I mean...it would be wrong to leave anypony alone in the Everfree Forest.” Fluttershy was swaying back and forth as though poised to strike off running.
“Dat colt’s more trouble than he’s worth. We oughta leave’em.”
“Oh no you won’t Applejack,” Fluttershy scolded, “...I meant...that’s not right even if it’s a big meanie like Wind Racer.”
“He’s not Wind Racer.” All eyes turned to the princess.
“Wind Racer is a changeling?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“But that’s not possible,” said Twilight. “He passed through my brother’s force field.”
“That creature is no changeling. It is Wind Racer’s body, but what’s inside is *not* Wind Racer.”
“Your majesty, I’m confused,” Twilight confessed. “What do you mean its Wind Racer’s body but not Wind Racer?”
Celestia slumped under the weight of the terrible secret she had bore for millennia on her shoulders. “For you to fully understand, I must tell you of the world beyond the Everfree Forest...”
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“I apologize it took so long to inform you, sir, but I thought you should have a formal report.” A middle-age man with a red walrus mustache and cru cut patted the thick blue folder on a rather lengthy table that took up half the space in the private conference room, which covered the same area as a small home. It felt hollow, vacant with only Wind Racer, Brigadier General Claymore, and another high-ranking officer, General Stryker.
Wind Racer picked up the notebook and flipped through it. “I never would have imagined that Fuehrer Bradley was a homunculus or that the fabled Philosopher’s Stone was real.” Claymore smirked when Wind Racer mentioned the Philosopher’s Stone.
“It is a ghastly reality, sir. Fifty million Amestrians were nearly killed by the homunculi’s conspiracy. After the coup against Bradley, Fuehrer Grumman assigned a few of his most trusted subordinates with this secret in order to insure no more lives are sacrificed for the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“General Stryker, your trust will not be in vain. I will make sure this abomination is never seen within our borders again.”
General Stryker cracked a smile. “Seeing the determination in your eyes is very reassuring, sir.” After being dismissed, General Stryker saluted Wind Racer and exited the conference room.
“What a gullible moron!” Claymore gloated. “I can’t believe that old fart Grumman put that dumbass in charge of anything let along his own army.”
“Actually, we should be grateful Stryker gave us this report. We can eliminate everyone who knows about the Philosopher’s Stone leaving us the only ones who knows the secret. Accidents and sudden illnesses can be arranged quietly dispatching them one by one.” Just then, there was a knock at the door. “I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed!”
“Sir,” said the security guard peering inside, “you told me to inform you of Mr. Elric’s arrival.”
“Oh? In that case, send him in.” Just then, Edward Elric swaggered in.
“Mr. Elric,” said Wind Racer, “welcome. Please take a seat.” With a self-satisfying smirk on his face, Edward reclined in his chair and put his feet up on the conference table. “I’m impressed with the progress you’ve made so far. I have twenty search teams scouring Amestris looking for Mustang and his tag-along bitch, and the only one to come close to catching him is you.”
“I don’t make empty boasts, Fuehrer. I told you, I know the bastard like the back of my hand. I won’t promise you it’ll be easy, but I will promise that you’ll be seeing him face-to-face real soon.”
Claymore bellowed out smoke from his nostrils after taking a drag from his cigar. “Sir,” he said to Wind Racer, “you can’t really expect this punk kid to catch Roy Mustang, do you?”
“Hey!” Edward shot out of his chair and pointed to himself. “This punk kid is just happens to be the Fullmetal Alchemist.”
“Was the Fullmetal Alchemist...you lost your alchemy powers during the coup to oust Fuehrer Bradley, remember.”
“True, but you have the Amestrian military at your disposal. All you need is someone like me to point your soldiers in the right direction, which is why I need more manpower.”
“Of all the audacity,” Claymore mumbled. “Sir, he comes back empty handed and then demands we give him more secret service to waste on his wild goose c...” All it to silence Claymore was a wave of Wind Racer’s hand.
“It’s true you lost your powers, but I don’t need alchemy skills. I need someone who’s familiar with Mustang that I can trust, and you fit the bill.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“So, how many of my men do you need?”
“Mustang is a tough nut to crack. Even with my powers, he bested me in a sparring match. I’ll need every field agent you have.”
“Are you crazy or a just retard?!?” Claymore yelled.
“General!” Once again, Wind Racer reigned in his impassioned partner-in-crime. “They’re all yours. I’ll issue the order tomorrow. And mark my words, when Mustang and his cohorts are brought to justice, you’ll be a national hero.
“Thanks but serving a fuehrer that protects his troops rather than sacrificing them to corrupt politicians is thanks enough.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It’s loyalty like yours that will bring a bright future to this country. Happy hunting, Fullmetal.”
“Yes, sir,” Edward saluted Wind Racer before exiting the conference room. Claymore was about to follow Edward outside when Wind Racer gestured to him to stay.
“Is that little punk gone?” Wind Racer asked Claymore.
“You mean Elric?” Claymore asked.
“How many other little punks was here, Claymore?”
Claymore peeked outside. “Yeah, he’s gone. But why were you all chummy with him if he’s a little punk?”
“You know what chum is don’t you-bait to attract sharks.”
“Oh I get it,” Claymore chuckled. “That’s pretty clever of you, sir.”
“Why thank you. Now lock the doors, I have a top secret assignment for you.” Wind Racer paused long enough to hear the clicking of the deadbolt lock. “I need evidence that Mustang’s inner circle is conspiring to oust me from power. I don’t care if you have to manufacture it. Just get it.”
“Knowing Mustang’s bunch, we won’t have to make it up.”
“Just in case, don’t wait for them to give it to you, and I want to include April in the ‘conspiracy’ as well.”
“That’s out of the blue, not that I blame you. The ditzy bitch is annoying as hell.”
“Just imagine that same ditzy bitch clinging to me for all of eternity. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t such an eyesore. Just come up with something plausible and hold on to it until I’ve deciphered April’s alchemy notes. We still need her until I learn how to make Philosopher’s Stones on my own. Have the secret service send for April. I have some errands for her to run. I’ll be waiting in my office.”
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As Edward unlocked the door to his hotel room, a pair of hands shoved him from behind pushing him inside. Edward tripped and fell on one knee before he regained his balance and stood back up.
“What the hell?!?” Edward spun around staring face-to-face with a tall figure, stoutly built, partially eclipsing the light from the hallway that spilled into the pitch dark hotel room. Edward rubbed his back where the residual blow still echoed. “Thanks for saving me the trouble of hunting you down.” Edward said to the figure when he switched on the lights.
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“Fuehrer Sinclair,” April said through a crack in the door, “you sent for me.”
Wind Racer made a saccharine-sweet grin. “Don’t be shy. Come on in. And there’s no need to be formal.”
“Of course, Douglas.”
“Just don’t forget to lock the doors. I don’t want anyone walking in on our private conversation.”
“Is it that serious?” April asked as her hand slid over the deadbolt lock. “Should I get Brigadier General Claymore?”
“No, don’t.” Wind Racer blurted out. “It’s about him.”
“You mean Brigadier General Claymore?”
Wind Racer gently stroked April’s back. “He’s not the friend I took him for.”
“No, it can’t be,” April gasped.
“One of my agents intercepted a coded message between Claymore and someone going by an alias, the Hawk’s Eye.”
“Riza?!?”
“That’s the nickname they gave her in Ishval, wasn’t it?” April nodded in response to Wind Racer’s question. “Claymore must have been switched to Mustang’s side. You know, some of the soldiers that fought against the coup to overthrow Bradley swore they saw Mustang being led around by Riza as though he went blind. Strange how he sees so well.”
“But the reports say it was just temporary blindness from a flash grenade.”
“Maybe or maybe he had a Philosopher’s Stone. Maybe Mustang offered Claymore higher office. Claymore and I have had heated arguments over his position in the military. He said he was too talented to waste away in an artillery division. I really wanted to promote him, but he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and I need competent men in the positions that he covets.”
“He’ll be dead by the end of the day,” April said coldly.
“Whoa, not so fast. We have to be discrete. When I give the say-so, take his soul and add it my Philosopher’s Stone.”
April passionately kissed Wind Racer. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Douglas, not ever.”
“I know you won’t, April. But I will. Claymore, you were a good friend, but you have to go. A county can’t have more than one immortal ruler. And you, April, I can’t wait to put you behind the firing squad and find myself a real woman.
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Edward smirked at the cloaked figure. “Don’t you know it’s not polite to wear a hat inside? That goes for hoods also, Scar.”
Scar uncovered his head revealing the horrific scowl kept hidden from view.
“Is it Ishvalan custom to assault an ally?” Edward asked rhetorically.
“You dare call yourself my ally!” Scar yelled. “How can you when you follow a man that used the tragedy of my people for his own political gain?”
“Speaking of people, you’re an Ishvalan, Scar. Why should you care about Mustang after what he’s done to your people?”
“And why do you side with Fuehrer Sinclair even though you were never a part of the genocide against my people.”
“I have no feelings of loyalty for a man that sells out his own soldiers?”
“Fullmetal, you and I both know who is truly responsible for starting the war between our people, and it wasn’t Aerugo.”
“So what? I have to look out for my own.” Scar grabbed Edward by his shirt and hoisted him up until they were eye-to-eye with one hand. “Are you planning giving in to those inner beasts you talked about when Mustang was about to torch Envy?”
“Do not mock me, alchemist. My hatred for my past deeds is the only thing keeping you alive.”
“Before you give into temptation and turn me into a red smear on the upholstery, how about hearing my side of the story. I have a good reason for leading the Fuehrer’s manhunt for Mustang.”
Scar put Edward down. “Make it quick.”
“Not here.” Edward glanced at the phone. “Maybe you should keep your voice down. No telling who could be eavesdropping.”
“Even though you swear allegiance to Fuehrer Sinclair, you can’t trust him not to spy on you?”
“If you want my side of the story, come to my home in Resembool.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“How about this: I’ll have Winry escort you from the train station. If you can’t trust me, then trust Winry.”
“This have better not be a trap for your sake, alchemist.”
“You know me better than that Scar. I’d never do anything that would put my wife in danger.”
“I also believed you would never betray Mustang or align yourself with that hyena Sinclair.”
“Are you interested or not?”
“I am.”
“Then Winry will see you tomorrow.”
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In hindsight, Scar wished that he never accepted Fullmetal’s offer. It wasn’t that he feared death, but rather, a reminder of the monster that he used to be. There, waiting at a train station bench, was the young woman he turned into an orphan. Winry’s parents were doctors who treated those wounded in the war regardless of whether they were Ishvalan or Amestrian. After losing his right arm and having his brother graft his arm onto him with alchemy, Scar was taken to the Rockbells to be treated. Having just lost his family in the same attack that cost him his arm and still disoriented, Scar lashed out at the first Amestrians he first laid eyes upon and mortally wounded both Rockbells with their own scalpel.
“It’s been awhile.” Winry said nervously. Scar could tell the young woman was trying her best to keep her composure. It was all he could expect and more than he deserved. “I haven’t seen you since the coup against Bradley. How have you been?”
“Ishval has provided for all my needs,” said Scar.
“I guess that means you’re doing well yourself. It’s a long walk back to my and Edward’s place. We can talk along the way.”
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Scar and Winry didn’t really speak as much as awkwardly stared at each other hoping the other could say something to break the ice. Eventually, the silence was too much for Winry to bear.
“Did you know Edward and I are now married?”
“I believe he briefly mentioned it.”
“We tied the knot exactly two months and eight days ago,” Winry said with pride. “Is there anyone special in your life?”
“If you mean romantically, no, there isn’t. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
Winry smiled sheepishly at Scar. “Different folks, different strokes, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Oh,” said Winry pointing to a rather old home that had seen better days, “there’s my house. I know it’s a fixer-upper but it’s cozier than it looks. You’re welcome to stay.”
“I have no desire to be an undue burden on you. I will stay at the local inn.”
“I’d rather if you didn’t. The only lodging in town is owned by some racist jerk. You’re better off staying with me, though I have to warn you. It’s gotten a bit crowded lately.” Winry opened the door for Scar. “After you,” she said.
Just as Scar was about to cross the threshold, a familiar face entered his view. “I see Fullmetal gave you the message.”
“I should have known.”
In the front room was Alphonse Elric, Dr. Tim Macoh, Izumi Curtis, the alchemist who trained Edward and Alphonse, Izumi’s husband Sig, Dr. Knox, Riza Hawkeye, and Roy Mustang.
Mustang extended a hand to the Ishvalan monk. “Welcome to my little insurrection, Scar.”
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Now that his life in Equestria has been unraveled, Sinclair is making the arduous journey back to Amestris as both Roy Mustang and Wind Racer play a dangerous game of cat-and-mouse. And now Princess Celestia must own up to their millennia of deception. Will Sinclair make it back to Amestris? Who will ultimately hold power in Amestris? And how will the Mane 6 react when Celestia tells them the truth? It’s the beginning of the end, and the conclusion of this tale of switched identities is around the corner. Find out the answer to these questions in future chapters of Friendship is Magic, Damnation is Alchemy.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it took so long to finish but I’ve been swamped with in real life stuff. Hopefully, this won’t be as much of an issue with the last few chapters, and it won’t take another nine months to make another post.
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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Wow, this is still being update? I though you stop writing and given up all hope. This just surprise me. (In a VERY VERY nice way)
Holy smokes, I we would have the mandatory year of waiting before seeing another chapter. Thanks for the speedy work!
OMG OMG OMG HOLY F
CKING SHIT! ANOTHER UPDATE!!! 
HOLEEEY SHEEET AN UPDATE!!! This was a good chap, a really good chap and im definatly looking foward to an update. How many chaps are left though cause im curious
3108129
I can't give a number but it's over the halfway point.
will it be another months long span until the next update?
"The guard escorted Sinclair inside Shining Armor’s office. Plaques and framed medals alternated with pictures of him, his wife, Twilight Sparkle"
I KNEW it! Shining Armor married Twilight!
3453326
I apologize. That should have read: "Plaques and framed medals alternated with pictures of him, his wife, and Twilight Sparkle"
Holy shit, you're on this site?
If I'd have known that I'd have favorited this much sooner. Excellent story my good sir and I hope to see more soon.
WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO LONG?!?!?!?