Equestria has its heroes, stars and icons. Everpony knows their names. But with a new threat brewing in secret, perhaps it will be the noponies, the cameos, and the extras that will make the difference. The backup plan is in motion...
A threat is forming in the underbelly of Equestria, a threat whose true nature remains disturbingly elusive to Equestria's Night Princess.
With her millennium-old confidants long dead and gone, the newly-returned Princess Luna calls upon a dangerous but loyal ally to gather the ponies she needs from her sister's unfamiliar Equestria. Together, they seek out the underdogs and the overshadowed, the second-place and the unappreciated, those who's virtues are not so readily visible in the light of day. Ponies among whom she has much in common.
They are not like the Element Bearers.
They are no heroes.
A big thanks to Eosphorite for the commissioned cover art!
Spike sighed for what had to have been the thousandth time as he plodded along on the treadmill. An older-looking, dark-brown Earth pony with a grey mane was nearby, muzzle stuck in a notebook in which he was writing furiously. Every now and then he checked the data that a computer was spitting out at an alarming rate.
“Isn’t that thing done yet?” the baby dragon whined, shifting the steel helmet with its blinking lights and wires. He used to call it the 'party hat' because it looked so ridiculous. Pinkie would have liked it. Twilight certainly did. He was glad she wasn’t here, she only made the whole process more annoying.
“Give it time,” Doc Murrow answered through the pencil in his mouth.
“I have. Three days time.”
“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” the doctor ordered, dropping the pencil and shifting some knobs. “You’ve only been running the treadmill for an hour.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been here three days,” Spike noted with a wave at the lab. “I should be back in Ponyville with Twilight! I have responsibilities, y'know.”
“You can’t go back to Ponyville until tomorrow, anyway,” Doc Murrow noted. “So just relax! We’re almost done.” He tapped a floor pedal and the treadmill at last stopped. Spike dropped into a sitting position with a relieved sigh and removed the helmet.
“According to Miss Sparkle’s notes,” the scientist went on while reading from the notebook, “your gem intake has gone up over twenty percent since last year.” He peered at Spike's belly.
“What?”
“Hmmm,” the Doctor grabbed a pencil and began scribbling. “You seem a bit chubby. I think I can chalk this down as overeating.”
“Hey! I eat just as much as my hunger demands!” Another lecturing glance. “Okay, so maybe I have the occasional late-night ruby, or slip some opals in my toast for breakfast. It’s no big deal. I mean, you don’t know anything about dragon anatomy. You can’t prove I’m wrong.”
The doctor turned to him with head high. “I am Equestria’s leading dragon expert!” He lowered his head. “But you’re right, I don’t know enough to be able to say that.”
“Hah!”
Doc Murrow poked him in the stomach. “One doesn’t have to know dragon anatomy to be able to see that you, Spike, are overeating! Now,” he switched topics with characteristic swiftness, “when was the last time you used your fire?”
“Last Friday,” Spike replied in a tired tone. “Back when Twilight and the others had to deal with that sleeping dragon.”
“Such a shame I couldn’t get to see that!” Doc Murrow noted with genuine regret. He stepped on another pedal, and a large metal plate dropped from the ceiling. “You know the drill.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Spike got in front of the plate, took a deep breath and let loose some dragon’s fire. His stomach twisted into knots; a simple belch was one thing, but prolonged breathing always made him queasy. He watched the doctor from the corner of his eye as the plate grew red. The pony was observing a small monitor.
“Twenty-four seconds!” Doc Murrow declared happily when the dragon could no longer keep the flame going. “That’s a five second improvement from last year.”
“Really?” Spike felt a little proud.
“Yes, remarkable improvement! No change in temperature, but perhaps that’s normal. You really should be enjoying this more. Just think of how you’re advancing our knowledge on dragons! I mean after all you are the—”
“—the first dragon to integrate into pony society, I know,” Spike muttered, sitting in a nearby chair. He set his cheeks in his claws with a glower.
“Don’t you want to help us to know more about your people?”
“I know everything I need to know,” the dragon answered sourly, and began to count on his claws. “My name’s Spike, I’m a dragon, I eat gems, and I like my naps.” He displayed his open claw at the pony. “I only need one arm to count ‘em. And right now I’m running low on gems and naps!”
“Well Princess Celestia thinks these tests are important,” Doc Murrow lectured even as he began to write something in another notebook, “like it or not, we’re gonna do this every year.”
“I know, I know,” Spike muttered. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Well I have good news for you then: we’re done!”
Spike raised his head. “Wait, we are? What happened to the lava test? And the wing check?”
“Not necessary,” Doc Murrow declared. “We know enough about your heat resistance, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be growing any wings this year, either. So yes, we’re done.”
“Oh, okay.” Spike dropped from the chair and stretched. “Thanks, Doc! Now I can finally visit Joe’s.” Doc Murrow raised an eyebrow. “What? The doughnuts are my reward for putting up with all this.”
The doctor shook his head with a smile. “Alright, alright, but try to control yourself this year. I’ll give Miss Sparkle instructions on your diet if I have to.”
That made Spike flinch. “No, no, that’s okay! I promise I’ll cut down on my snacking! Honest.”
“Good.” The pony started to turn away, but stopped. “Oh, you’re staying the night in the castle, aren’t you?”
“No choice.” Spike made his eager way to the door. “There’s a big storm scheduled in Ponyville today, so the train won’t be stopping there. I’ll just be staying in Twilight’s and my old place.”
“You should stop by the museum.”
“The Royal Canterlot Museum?” Spike paused to tilt his head at the pony. “I’ve got nothing against it, but why?”
“There’s a new exhibit in Archeology Hall,” the doctor answered with a grin. “You’ll find it interesting, trust me.”
A nice sunny afternoon in Canterlot! Spike didn’t think things could get better than this. Here he was, taking in the familiar sights, a bag full of doughnuts under his arm. What more did he need? Suddenly he didn’t mind having been stuck in Doc Murrow’s lab for three days.
Spike found that he missed Canterlot. He’d been raised here, after all. In a way, he was sad Twilight hadn’t come. He knew she enjoyed coming home every now and again. He had been sure to visit her family to say hello, but it would have been better if she’d been along.
He wound his way through the busy streets, greeting to a few old friends as he ran into them. He was in no hurry to get home, as he was far more interested in the city. Eventually he found himself in the Art District; not a large area, but always interesting. He was just starting to lament the last bite of doughnut when he realized he was near the Royal Canterlot Museum.
There was still some time in the day left, why not see what Doc Murrow had been talking about?
He climbed up the marble steps, which were just a bit too tall for him. When he entered the main hall, with its vaulted ceiling and pillars and finery, he felt as if the whole place was a bit too fancy. Maybe he was just getting used to Ponyville living…
“Whoa!” Spike paused to stare at the giant poster hanging behind the front desk. On it was a collection of pictures involving dragons, with a giant egg right in the middle. The Archeology Hall had opened a dragon-themed wing! Doc Murrow was right; this he wanted to see.
Spike made his way through the many halls, past the Pegasi Wing (he had to show it to Rainbow someday), beyond the Discord Era displays (always good for a laugh), and quickly through some dusty exhibits regarding an old kook named Starswirl the something or other…then realized he was lost.
Why did this place seem to get bigger every time he came here with Twilight? She never got lost.
There was nothing else for it but to ask directions. He glanced about the displays and showpieces and soon spotted a well-dressed unicorn walking nearby. He hesitated; the yellow mare was dressed quite formally, and judging by her overall look he imagined she was of the snobby, elite variety. The kind of pony Rarity would love to hang out with. But there was nopony else that he could see, so he made his way after her.
“Excuse me,” he called out, but the pony seemed engrossed in some documents she had levitating before her face. He tried again, to no avail. Finally he reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yaaah!” The mare leapt, her notes and papers fluttering about wildly.
“I’m sorry!” Spike cried, about as surprised at her reaction as she had been.
The mare gave him a stunned look, brushing her white and purple mane back into place. “Oh, that’s quite alright. Off in my own world, as it were.”
“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Spike replied, gathering up her papers from the floor. “I was just trying to get directions, you know?” He paused when he realized the mare was studying him. “What?”
“Why, you must be Spike!” she declared.
The baby dragon beamed. “Why, yes. Yes I am! Glad to see my reputation precedes me.” He offered her the papers. “Yeeap, I’m something of a legend.”
The mare raised a wry eyebrow. “Actually, it’s because you’re a dragon, and there’s only one dragon I’ve ever heard of living among ponies.”
Spike blushed as the papers rose from his claw in a green glow. “Oh, eh, right, or that.”
“I had heard that you’d moved to—” she shuddered, “—Ponyville. Why, if you’re here that must mean you came to see our new dragon exhibit!”
“Well, I’m really in town for my yearly analysis,” he raised his claws to make quotations as he added dryly, “'for the advancement of pony knowledge on dragon anatomy.' But,” he went on at her disappointed look, “Doc Murrow mentioned your exhibit, so I thought I’d come by and take a look! I just…umm…can’t find it.”
The mare grinned. “You’re in luck, Mr. Spike! I was just heading that way, so you can follow me along. I’m Upper Crust, one of the museum’s Assistant Acquirers, and I’d be happy to show you the exhibit. I collected a few of the items there myself, you know.”
“Including the egg?” Spike asked as they walked down the hallway.
“Ermm, no,” she confessed. “Mr. Nack purchased that one. To be honest, I think they gouged him for it.”
“Mr. Nack?”
“Yes, Nick Nack, the museum’s Chief Aquirer.” She added without much enthusiasm, “My boss.”
“Ah, I see. Well, thanks for the help Miss…Crust? Miss Upper?”
“Oh, no, no,” the unicorn shook her head with a disgusted frown. “I’m all about titles, Mr. Spike, but I think everyone agrees that neither ‘Miss Crust’ nor ‘Miss Upper’ sound very…dignified. You can call me ‘Assistant Acquirer Upper Crust.’ Or ‘A.A. Upper Crust’ or—” her voice took on a hint of dismay, “—just ‘Upper Crust,’ if you really must.”
Yeah, this was clearly a mare of the elite variety. Spike decided to play things cool; he’d been around Canterlot ponies long enough to know how to behave. As they rounded the corner, he caught a glance at Upper Crust’s cutie mark. It was a cracked, old-looking goblet with some strange lines beneath and beside it. He stared at the lines, not sure what they were.
“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are those lines on your cutie mark?”
She blinked, having again fallen into her own thoughts. “Hmmm? Oh, those are dimension lines, like in drafting.”
“Dimension lines?”
“Yes, they are used to show measurements.”
He scratched his head, giving the cutie mark another long look. “So your special talent is measuring things?”
Upper Crust sighed with a frown. “Everypony assumes that! No, Mr. Spike. My talent is estimation.”
“Estimation?” He moved forward a bit, bringing himself even with her front hooves, the better to make conversation. “You mean guessing?”
Upper Crust raised her head in a proud manner. “'Guessing’ is for layponies, Mr. Spike. I estimate. I make precise determinations using careful observations. It’s what made me an acquirer.”
Spike wasn’t sure he understood the difference. Rather, he didn’t think there was one and she was just being snippy. Not that it affected him; he’d been around Twilight long enough to let such things roll off his scales like water. “Ummm, example?”
She glanced at him with one eye, her gaze roaming up and down his body for about a second. “You have approximately seven-hundred-fifty scales.”
The dragon paused midstep, gaping. “Wha…? That’s really close! How did you know that?”
“It’s a simple thing, really,” she answered, head held high. “I took your leg-claw measurements by comparing them to the floor tiles, which are a specific length, then used the dimensions of your claw in accordance with the number of scales on one claw to determine approximate scale size. Account for your estimated height and the change in scale-size throughout your anatomy and a general estimate could be arranged. Of course, I also had to adjust for your underscales, which are of a different make, and I did not account for the spikes along your back.”
“Whoa.” She was halfway down the hall before he remembered to move his legs. “That’s amazing. You’re really good!”
“Well I had to be good at something,” she noted proudly, “or else I couldn’t call myself an Important Pony. Ah, we’re here.”
The Dragon Wing wasn’t the largest in the museum, but that didn’t keep Spike from being amazed: bones, fossils, scales, all sorts of things were on display! The biggest of all was the life-size bust of a brown-scaled dragon looming down from the ceiling, glaring with harsh realism and razor-sharp fangs. The sight actually made him nervous; it was that realistic!
“By Celestia,” he whispered, ducking behind Upper Crust. “That’s one well-made replica.”
Upper Crust frowned at the thing. “It’s tacky. It was made by one of Canterlot’s best artisans using testimony from ponies who had actually seen dragons up close, and with a bit of help from your Doc Murrow for anatomical accuracy. Still,” she added, “tacky.”
Now that she’d confirmed that thing indeed wasn’t real, Spike abandoned his hiding spot to get a closer look at the displays. The first held a trio of dragon scales, one of which was as large as he was. “Wow.” He twisted about to look at the scales on his back. “Am I gonna have scales that big, someday?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Upper Crust admitted with only a half-interest, already making her way along the displays with her forms in front of her muzzle. “I’m no expert.”
“Oh,” he waved to her, “thanks for showing me how to get here!”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, my pleasure."
Spike wandered the wing with no small amount of awe. There was a broken half of a bone – a femur, according to the plaque – that he could have crawled into had it been hollow. There was a wall with five paintings, each showing the same two dragons in different stages of a fight. The plaque claimed the images were made by a particularly daring pony who hid nearby to watch the duel. Everything was interesting, especially to a guy who wondered how he might look when he grew to be a full-sized dragon.
But what really caught his eye was the egg. It stood in a display case near the center of the wing, encased in glass. It was tall – taller than Spike himself – and of a soft brown color, which only made sense considering it was just a fossil. The plaque beneath it noted that the egg was over a thousand years old, and its size was due to its origins from the Eastern Pony Nations, where dragons grew long and snake-like and thus needed more room in the egg.
A distant cousin? Spike stared in rapt amazement, wondering how large his own egg had been. There was so much he didn’t know about dragons. It didn’t particularly bother him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in learning when the opportunity presented itself.
It took him several seconds to realize that he was no longer alone. There, opposite the display, was a tall, lanky unicorn. Spike leaned about to get a curious look at him; he was a mottled brown and had a black mane. He was wearing a black, semi-formal vest and seemed to be deeply intent upon whatever he was looking at, which Spike realized was not the egg.
He stepped about the display case to try and follow the pony’s line of sight, and after a moment saw that he was looking right at Upper Crust. She stood near the paintings as she wrote on one of her forms, oblivious.
Spike glanced at the stallion, then at Upper Crust, then at him again. Finally, in a moment of inquisitiveness, he checked the stallion’s cutie mark…and stared. He didn’t have one.
“Look more closely.”
Spike jumped, not realizing he’d been noticed. He looked up at the stallion, who just kept staring at Upper Crust. Spike looked at the unicorn’s flank again, this time with greater focus. It took him nearly a minute, but at last he realized what he was seeing: the stallion’s cutie mark was a reared-back pony that was camouflaged in such a way that it blended in with the stallion’s mixed colors. It was practically invisible.
“Hey, that’s a neat one! So you…?”
“Hide.” The stallion grinned at him. “I hide.” And he went back to staring at Upper Crust.
Okay, that was started to get a little creepy. “Umm…is there something interesting over there?”
“Not at all,” the stallion replied. “At least, nothing that a tamed dragon would be interested in.”
“Hey! I’m not tamed! Go on, tell me what’s so interesting.” Spike turned to peer at Upper Crust, determined to know what the stallion was so intent upon.
For a moment he thought the stallion wouldn’t answer. When he did speak, his voice was slow, low and dark. “I see something red. And viscous. And blooming. Quite pleasurable. Quite appealing. A temptation, gnawing at me from the dark recesses of a mind long accustomed to…that kind of thing.” Spike blinked and gave the stallion a confused look. There was a wicked, hungry glint in those eyes that made him uncomfortable. “I’m Fine Crime, by the way.”
“Uuuh, Spike.” Fine Crime? What kind of name was that? It was as if this pony was asking to get blamed for something. What had his parents been thinking? He thought of Fine's words and asked, “Sooo, Upper Crust is…a red flower?” A second's pause. “An evil red flower?”
The stallion chuckled. “Quite the fascinating conclusion my little friend! Evil red flower. How cute.”
“Hey, it’s your imagery,” the dragon noted with a frown. “Aren’t you here to look at the dragon displays?”
Fine sagged and let out an intense sigh. For a second he seemed to be in pain, but he recovered quickly and offered Spike a strained smile. “No, I’m only here for one thing: this.” He looked up at the egg before them. “Marvelous, isn’t it? I would very much like to add a dragon egg to my collection.”
“It is something,” Spike agreed, glad that the conversation had taken a turn for normalcy. “But I don’t think they’d be willing to part with it so soon after getting it.”
“Oh, I can be very convincing,” Fine noted, trotting about the egg with a grin. “Many ponies have found my insistence to be inescapable.”
“Riiiight.” There was something very strange about this unicorn. His manner of speaking, the way he moved about, his shifting behavior. It was all a bit different somehow. Spike wasn’t sure he liked any of it. He was at a loss for what to say next, so he let the first thing that came to mind slip out. “So what exactly does a pony whose special gift is hiding do for a living?”
“I’m a dragon slayer.”
“What?!”
The unicorn tilted sideways so his head came around the display. “Kidding. I’m a florist.”
Spike let his heartbeat slow to normal levels and hoped he didn’t look as disturbed as he felt. “Oh, right, of course. Haha, good one…” What did hiding have to do with being a florist? “Well, I’ve seen enough. Gotta go.”
In truth Spike could have spent much more time in the wing, but he abruptly didn’t want to be anywhere near that stallion. He began to leave, but then paused to glance at Upper Crust. She had moved to another display, a stone sculpture of a dragon’s claw. Fine Crime had been watching her quite intently. Was it really safe to leave her alone with him?
The little dragon considered this for a few seconds, then decided to take the cautious route; he headed for Upper Crust. Best to at least warn her.
“Umm…Upper Crust?”
The mare gave him a reproachful look. “Yes, Mr. Spike?”
“I just thought you might like to know…” he started, turning to glance at Fine Crime, then let out a surprised shout. “The egg!”
It was gone.
Upper Crust let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a scream, darting to the seemingly untouched display case. “The egg! What happened, where did it go!? That thing was the centerpiece of the entire collection!”
“I… I don’t know,” Spike admitted at her side. “It was there just a second ago. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”
Upper Crust was running circles around the case. “Sweet Celestia, this is bad! If Nick Nack finds out the egg was lost on my watch, my career is over! It can’t be over, I only just hired on three months ago!”
Something clicked in Spike’s mind. “Wait, where’s Fine Crime?” He turned a three-sixty, scouring the area for any sign of the strange unicorn. To his surprise, he actually saw him – or rather, the back half of him – slipping through a doorway at the end of the hall. “There, I bet he took it!”
He got a few steps before being thrust upwards and onto Upper Crust’s back. She galloped through the hall, her hooves clacking noisily on the tiled floor. “We have to get that egg back,” she declared in a voice more panicked than anything. “My entire career depends on it!”
The door glowed green and opened on its own, and the two were in a back room full of cabinets and display cases. There was only one way to go, so they gave chase, but when they reached a connection they had to pause and get their bearings.
“Oh, which way did he go?” Upper Crust asked hooves dancing.
“I don’t know…” Spike replied, then noted a door swinging to their right. “That way, it’s our best bet!”
The chase was on. Upper Crust barreled after their target with everything she had. More than once Spike thought she might crash into one of the priceless items in the museum, but somehow she always managed to avoid them. He kept thinking they’d lose the culprit, too, yet every time it seemed they’d lost him some clue would present itself.
Something about the entire chase seemed odd. Spike felt almost as if they were being led along by a pony who didn’t want to get away. Suddenly he really wished Rainbow was here. She’d have caught the culprit in no time! Then again, she might also have destroyed half the artifacts doing it.
Their chase took them out a back door and into the streets of Canterlot! In the dying light of dusk they finally caught sight of their criminal, darting into a back alley with a taunting grin.
“Eggnaper!” Upper Crust cried, warranting curious looks from nearby ponies as she resumed the chase.
“Give us back that egg, you thief!” Spike added, caught up in the excitement.
Upper Crust galloped for all she was worth, but it seemed as if they would never catch Fine Crime. “Geez, doesn’t this guy ever get tired?” Spike asked as they went farther out from the city’s center.
“I don’t…know…” Upper Crust wheezed, “but I certainly…do!”
They came out of an alley and had to pause to locate their quarry. They were high up now; ahead was the Canterlot Sky-Port, where numerous airships of all shapes and sizes were docked. For a moment it seemed as if the egg thief had escaped at last.
“There he is!” Upper Crust cried just as Spike spotted Fine Crime jumping aboard the back of a yacht.
“Oh no, it’s launching!” Spike cried as the airship floated from the dock.
“He’s not getting away!” Upper Crust declared, rearing back to charge.
“Whoa, whoa!” Spike shouted, gripping her mane for support. “Do you realize how high up we are?!”
But Upper Crust ignored him, moving as fast as her hooves could carry her. The yacht was slipping farther and farther out, and Spike thought that there was no way they’d make it across the gap. He covered his eyes and wished desperately that Twilight was there.
They went airborne.
There was a moment of hideous silence…
And the two of them landed hard on the back of the yacht.
Upper Crust had put everything she’d had into that jump, and hadn’t been prepared for the landing. She collapsed face-first onto the wooden deck, sending Spike flying into the cabin wall so hard his backside spikes stabbed into the wood. He hung there – upside down and dazed – for several seconds before realizing he was alive.
He tried to pry himself loose from the wall, but couldn't. He sighed and noted Upper Crust, who came up reeling and eyes swirling. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” she answered. “Just a bit winded.”
“Good.” He waved his arms at her. “Are you nuts!? You could have killed us both with a stunt like that!”
Upper Crust finally managed to stand properly. “I couldn’t just let him get away!”
Spike crossed his arms and snorted. “He jumped on an air-yacht. You could have, I dunno, called the authorities and waited for it to dock?”
“Oh.” She glanced with a blush off the back of the deck, “Right. I suppose that would have been safer.”
“Uh, yeah.” He waved his claws at her. “Help me down!”
She raised a reproachful eyebrow at him, but let him grab her horn. “Well excuse me, but I do have my priorities! My status as an Important Pony resides in that egg, and I cannot let it be taken on my watch.”
“I don’t think being an Important Pony takes priority over our lives,” Spike noted, straining to keep hold of her horn as she tugged.
“I wouldn’t expect a baby dragon living in a dump like Ponyville to understand,” she argued through grinding teeth.
“A dump? That’s my home you’re talking about!”
Just then his spikes broke free, and the two of them crumbled in a heap on the deck.
“Important Ponies don’t come from backwater places like Ponyville,” Upper Crust declared as she untangled him from her hooves with a kick, “and Important Ponies don’t lose priceless relics! I simply must get it back, preferably before anypony notices it is missing.”
Spike sat up as she began to make her way around the cabin. “Yeah? And what makes you such an Important Pony?”
She turned back to him, head held high. “I am an elite pony from Canterlot, born of a wealthy family and working in the prestigious Canterlot Royal Museum! I take great pride in being an Important Pony!”
“And would this Important Pony care to explain how she got on my air-yacht?”
Upper Crust’s eyes bulged and her face went pale. She spun about in a flash to face the large, white, monocle-wearing unicorn that had appeared behind her. “O-o-oh my goodness,” she squeaked, “F-Fancy Pants! The one and only! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I j-just—!”
Spike stood and walked over, brushing himself off. “Fancy Pants? Who’re you?”
Upper Crust rounded on him so quickly he fell onto his back. “What do you mean ‘who’re you?!’ He’s Fancy Pants, only the most prestigious, important, special—”
“Okay, okay, I get it, geez!”
She jerked back around to the tall unicorn, who was watching their interaction with an expression combining amusement and aloofness. “I am so sorry sir we are so sorry it’s just that we were chasing after a criminal who stole something very important from the Royal Canterlot Museum and we saw him jump on board your yacht so we did too and and and…”
She finally ran out of breath, standing before Fancy Pants and heaving as if she’d just ran a marathon.
“Uh,” Spike added, standing back up, “did you get all that?”
Fancy smiled pleasantly. “Why yes, indeed I did. This fellow must have given you quite the chase! I can only surmise the relic he stole must have been very important, yes?”
Spike nodded with a relaxed grin; well, this ‘Important Pony’ didn’t seem anywhere near as uppity as Upper Crust. “Upper Crust here insists her career will be ruined if we don’t get it back, so we’ve been chasing him all the way from the museum.”
“Yes,” she added, finally regaining enough wind to start talking again. “Please… you must… let us… find him!”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Fancy declared with a proud smile. “Turns out hopping aboard my vessel was a mistake; my ever-dependable crew caught him almost immediately.”
“Really?!” Upper Crust lit up. “Did he have a dragon egg with him?”
Fancy’s monocle raised from his eye as he asked, “Dragon egg? Is that what he stole? I’m afraid I didn’t see anything quite so large on him when my lads took him.”
Upper Crust was crestfallen. Spike rushed to add, “Don’t worry, he probably stashed it during the chase. We’ll just talk to him, make him tell us where it is.”
She recovered some of her composure. “Yes…yes, you’re right.” She gave Fancy Pants a hopeful look, head low. “With your permission, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “Can’t have ruffians like that getting away with the goods, now can we? Come along, Miss…?”
“Upper Crust!” The mare blushed at her own enthusiasm and lowered her head again. “I mean, I’m Upper Crust, and this is Spike the Dragon. Thank you so much for your help.”
“Not at all.” Fancy Pants turned and led them around to the front of the great cabin, where a number of very elite-looking ponies were mulling about self-importantly. “Always a pleasure to help a pony in need. And a pleasure to meet both of you; a pony from the Royal Canterlot Museum and Equestria’s own social dragon. Why I’m not sure I could ask for finer stowaways.” That last line made Upper Crust blush noticeably.
“We didn’t mean to intrude or anything,” Spike noted helpfully as the unicorn led them into the cabin and down some stairs. “I mean, if you want to turn the yacht around and drop us off—”
“Nonsense, I’ll hear nothing of it,” Fancy declared. “I was just warming the old girl up, thought I’d have dinner among the stars. You’re both more than welcome to join me and my other guests for the evening.” A strange, excited sound trembled out of Upper Crust’s throat at that offer.
“Alright!” Spike cried, “This is going to be so much better than what I'd have been doing at the castle.”
Fancy paused before a closed door, keys floating out of the pocket of his coat, and cast an impressed glance at the dragon. “You’re staying at the castle, Sir Spike?”
Upper Crust shot Spike a withering glower that was barely noticed.
“Well, I’m living in Ponyville now,” he confessed, “but Twilight and me, we used to live in the castle. Our old rooms are still open to us for whenever we come to visit, so yeah, tonight I’m staying there.”
“How divine!” Fancy beamed as a key went into the door’s lock. “I daresay you’re going to make a most splendid party guest.” Another glare from Upper Crust as the door opened. “Come on in, meet my vessel’s first-ever captive.”
The three entered the room, Fancy closing the door behind them. It was a large place, luxuriously fitted as what Spike assumed was meant to be a parlor. And there, lounging in a cushy-looking couch by the windows, was Fine Crime.
“My compliments, sir,” the egg thief said with a grin. “You treat your prisoners better than most. I can think of a few friends who would be quite envious of me right now.”
“You!” Spike jumped atop a coffee table and pointed. “What did ya do with the egg, ya thief?”
“Egg?” Fine asked with a perplexed look. “What egg?”
“The dragon egg that you stole,” Upper Crust snapped. “We saw you take it!”
“Oh, you mean the dragon’s egg in the museum,” he noted with a smile. “Now really, Assistant Acquirer, you can’t really say that you saw me steal anything, can you?”
The mare’s jaw went slack.
“Don’t pull that on us,” Spike snapped. “Nopony else could have possibly taken it! What did you do with it?”
Fine leaned forward, his voice pleasant. “Maybe I dropped it when I jumped on board the yacht.” Upper Crust whimpered. “Or perhaps I gave it to my accomplices. Or – just maybe – I didn’t do anything with it. Why don’t you go on back to your precious little museum and take a good look; perhaps you just thought it was missing!”
Upper Crust sneered. “Don’t play games with us!”
“Or it could be that the egg just rolled out of its display case and under some table. Perhaps after a thousand years the baby finally decided to stretch his wings. Better late than never, you know.”
Fancy sniffed in a displeased fashion. “You, sir, seem to have a talent for misdirection. Why toy with them in such a manner?”
Fine gave him a wide-eyed look. “But I’m not toying with anypony. I have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“Then why were you running away from us, huh?” Spike demanded.
“Oh really, Spike, such a lack of imagination. Perhaps I wasn’t running away so much as running in the same direction. Coincidences do happen.”
“And pray tell why you happened to jump aboard my air-yacht?” Fancy threw in.
Fine grinned mischievously. “Can you think of a better way to spend an evening in luxury?” A moment of stunned silence. “But really, Mr. Pants, if somepony clearly threatening is chasing after you and you want to escape, why not jump aboard a yacht about to leave port? When one feels endangered, he’ll take certain risks.”
“What?!” Spike and Upper Crust cried in unison.
The elite stallion wiped his monocle in a self-important fashion. “I prefer Fancy, if you please.”
Upper Crust turned away, distraught. “We’ll never get the egg back from him at this rate. My reputation as an Important Pony will be ruined!”
At those words Fine's eyes went dark, and he abruptly lost his lazy manner. “And what in Luna’s name makes you so important?”
“I wouldn’t expect a lowly egg thief to understand!”
Spike frowned and gestured towards her. “Just like she wouldn’t expect a Ponyville dragon to understand.”
“What have you done with your life that makes you special?” Fine pressed, his pleasant tone gone entirely.
Upper Crust turned on him. “I am an elite pony, raised in style! I work at the Royal Canterlot Museum! I—”
“You’re an Assistant Acquirer. That’s not exactly high on the totem pole, princess.” Fine's tone was surprisingly harsh. “And born into wealth? So was I, but you don’t think I warrant a passing glance, do you?”
She reared back, eyes flaring. “You?! You’re a thief!”
“And what have you done with your life?” he demanded. “Made estimations? Name one pony you’ve helped, one great task that ponies throughout Equestria know you for.”
That made her pause. “I…what…? That doesn’t have any relevance—”
“You know that it does!”
Spike and Fancy Pants gave one another surprised looks; this conversation had taken a drastic turn.
“Waitaminute,” the dragon interrupted, “we’re not here to argue about importance! We’re here because you stole a dragon egg!”
“Quite right,” Fancy agreed, “you are trying to confuse us all with a change in topic, and we won’t—”
“Look at him!” Fine directed a hoof at the noblepony. “He gives to charities, funds events that bring joy to thousands of ponies. He's a veteran of the Dragon Campaign! Fancy Pants earned his status.”
The hoof was directed to Spike. “Look at this guy. He’s not considered ‘Important,’ but he’s the first dragon to live in peace with ponies. And he’s the personal assistant of Princess Celestia’s hoof-picked pupil, who will no doubt do great things in the near future. He works with the current bearers of the Elements of Harmony, one of the most powerful magics known to Ponydom! Why isn’t he considered important?”
“And you?” His attention went back to Upper Crust, who was now sitting on her haunches and gaping. “What have you done? Daddy sent you to a posh private school? Learned to make a calculation or two in your head? You’re nothing!”
There was a moment of stark silence, Fine’s words seeming to echo in everypony’s minds.
Upper Crust stared in shock, then embarrassment, then dropped her head in shame. Spike wanted to say something in her defense, but at the moment words were lost.
So Fancy Pants spoke instead. “I’m turning this yacht back to the docks,” he declared. “I do not wish to have this insulting ruffian onboard my vessel for another moment.” He promptly left the room.
“I…” Upper Crust muttered, on the verge of tears. “I…”
Fine stared at her coldly for several long seconds, but then leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “Why did you chase me?”
She blinked, seeming to not understand the query. Spike scratched his scaled head and gave her a puzzled look of his own. What kind of question was that?
But Upper Crust's expression became hard. She raised her head proudly, looking down on the fugitive with judging eyes. “Because you stole something. It was wrong, and somepony had to stop you.”
Fine Crime raised himself up as well, his expression calm. His harsh eyes shifted as he scrutinized her. Another long pause seeped through the room before he finally nodded. “I see.”
That’s when the yacht rocked. It wasn’t a small motion, either; it sent Spike and Upper Crust to the floor, and Fine Crime back against the couch.
“What the heck was that?!” Spike asked, crawling out from under the coffee table.
Fine Crime didn't bother to get up. “That would be the small tear I cut in the yacht’s balloon ripping open and releasing lots and lots of helium.”
“What?!” Upper Crust managed to get to her hooves. “Why in Celestia’s name would you do something like that?”
He waved a dismissive hoof. “It’s called a distraction. You know, create a little chaos and slip off?”
“Distraction?” Spike repeated. “How do you intend to escape when you’re on an air-yacht that’s falling out of the sky?”
Upper Crust rushed to a window, eyes wide. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, what are we going to do?! We must be over 15,000 feet up, we’ll never survive the impact!”
“Oh, calm down,” Fine instructed. “The Pegasi Wing of the Equestrian Guard will notice and come rescue everyone. You know, the one always stationed in Canterlot? And I’m sure a super Important Pony like Fancy Pants can afford a new yacht. Your husband can sell him one; that’s his business, isn’t it?”
“You moron!” Spike shouted, jumping onto the unicorn’s stomach and glaring at him. “The entire Pegasi Wing is out on training maneuvers!”
“They are?” Upper Crust asked in a weak voice.
Fine leaned up and gave Spike a wide-eyed look. “How do you know that?”
Spike waived his claws in the air. “Because I spoke to the Captain of the Guard yesterday, and he told me so!”
A moment’s pause as the two unicorns stared at him, and then an “oh” came from Fine Crime. “That would have been good to know ten minutes ago.”
Spike jumped from Fine’s belly and ran to the door.
“Where are you going?” Upper Crust demanded in a panicky voice.
“Up top to see if I can help!”
She tried to say something else, but he didn’t hear it. As he ran to the stairs the entire airship tilted backward, and he had to use his claws on the laminated flooring to keep from sliding. This was great, just great! He knew he should have found some excuse to skip his annual tests! Now he was going to die on some fancy yacht because of a klepto and a posh pony. As he finally managed to get onto the deck, he couldn’t help wishing Twilight was there.
The elite ponies were holding on for dear life to anything nailed down. Spike called out for Fancy Pants, but couldn’t hear over the intense wind that was raging around them. He finally spotted the unicorn at the helm, struggling with the wheel. It took a lot of effort to get up to him.
“Fancy!” he called as he at last got close enough to be heard over the wind. “What do we do? Can’t we slow it down?”
Sweating from exertion, Fancy Pants chanced a glance at Spike, then gestured with his head toward the balloon above them. “Not unless we can do something about that, I’m afraid!”
Spike at last saw the rip in the balloon. It didn’t seem all that large, but it was clearly losing a lot of gas. Spike could only stare, mind beginning to panic. There had to be something they could do, but what? How? He wasn’t good at solving these kinds of problems! He needed his friends; any of them would be better than him.
“What in Luna’s name are you ponies doing?” Spike glanced down to see Fine Crime and Upper Crust at the cabin door, holding on for dear life. The voice had been Fine's. “All these Important Ponies, and nopony’s going to do anything?”
“I don’t see you coming up with anything!” Upper Crust shouted. “Don’t forget that this is all your fault, you thief!”
“Use your resources,” Fine shot back, daring to step out onto the deck. “Your lives are at stake, so act!”
“But we can’t,” Spike cried down to him in terror.
“Get back before you fall off,” Fancy ordered.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Upper Crust shouted with wide eyes.
“And you call yourself an Important Pony,” the egg thief snapped, turning back to her, “can’t even learn to help yourself. Spike, I’m gonna need fire. Upper Crust, I need wind control!”
“What?!” Upper Crust stared at him. “What are you talking about? I can’t control this kind of wind!”
Fine Crime was halfway up the stairs to the helm. “You learned a wind spell to cheat against your cousin flying kites, right? Use it!”
“Wha…? How did you—?”
“No time!” Fine was crouched low next to Spike. “Get on! I’ll lift you up. I need you to breathe fire on top of the cabin. I can get it to stay, but you have to keep the flame going for at least thirty seconds.”
“Thirty seconds!?” Spike shook his head. “N-no, I can’t! My best time’s only twenty four seconds. You’re talking an extra six seconds I can’t do!”
Fine glared. “It’s up to you, dragon! A lot of ponies are going to get crushed in the next few minutes if you can’t do this.”
“But… But I…”
The unicorn rose to stare down with authority, and suddenly he seemed a lot bigger than Spike recalled. “There is nopony else. Twilight Sparkle is not here, or Rarity, or Rainbow Dash. This is your moment to be the hero, Spike. Take it!”
A hero? Spike never thought of himself as a hero, at least not a real one. But something the pony had said stuck with him: it really was just him, wasn’t it? He glanced around at the elite ponies. Some were screaming, others were crying. All were terrified as the ground came up faster and faster. Seeing all of them, Spike knew that only he could do what needed to be done.
“Let’s do this,” he declared, climbing atop Fine as fast as his claws would allow.
“Upper Crust,” Fine demanded through the raging winds, “I need you to protect the flame! When I’ve got it secured, direct the heat into the tear of the balloon!”
She raised her head against the wind to ask, “What good will that do?”
“Replace the lost helium with hot air,” he explained quickly, “and keep what’s left inside! We need to give Fancy Pants enough lift to land this thing safely.”
“But I haven’t cast that spell in years, there’s no way I can do that much!”
“Then we’ll die.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Fancy Pants shouted, “but the ground’s getting a bit close! If you’re going to try it, I’d suggest doing so immediately!”
Spike was holding on to Fine’s mane as he turned and rose up on his hind legs, leaning against the cabin that was angling backwards even more, just like the entire yacht. “Do your thing, Spike!”
The baby dragon climbed atop the unicorn’s head and stood, gripping the edge of the cabin’s roof for balance. It was hard to stay in place, but finally he felt secure enough to take in a long, deep breath. Green flame flew from his mouth and to the cabin’s roof, crackling and sparking against the fierce winds.
For a moment, nothing seemed to be happening. Then a crimson glow appeared beneath the flame. Spike kept the heat coming even as he realized that Fine was using magic on the fire, trying to lock it to the cabin. But the wind was still pummeling them, and Spike could see that this wasn’t going to work.
“Upper Crust!” It was Fine Crime. “Upper Crust, now!”
“I can’t,” she cried from somewhere below. “I’m not good enough! I’m not—”
“Forget about the doubts!” The was no fear or worry in Fine’s tone. Only determination. “Stop worrying about what you can’t do, focus on what you can do! Hiding behind the glamor and posh won’t make a difference. If you want to be an Important Pony, do something to prove you deserve it!”
Spike’s throat was getting sore. Come on, just do it already! He was approaching his limit…
The wind eased. Slowly but clearly, a green glow began to appear around the cabin, an invisible barrier to block the winds. The fire grew, erupted, spread! Spike held on, the flames from his throat growing hotter and hotter. His stomach churned, and was getting worse with each passing second. Finally, he could hold it no more; he coughed, choked, and sucked in air. With watering eyes he watched Fine’s spell work, and soon the flame was dancing atop the cabin like a bonfire.
“Upper Crust, the fire’s in place! Guide the heat!”
The green glow closed in tightly about the flame, then rose up like a tube to the large tear in the balloon above. The flames licked at the edges of the magical barrier. The crimson glow beneath the fire intensified, and so too did the heat.
It was several seconds before Spike could be sure, but at last he felt the wind lessening.
“By Luna, it’s actually working!” Fancy Pants cried. “Keep it up! Give me a little more lift, and I think I can land us in the Canterlot Gardens.”
Sick to his stomach, Spike dropped down to Fine Crime’s back, noting the red glow around his horn. Rubbing his belly tenderly and praying the yacht’s rocking would stop soon before he made a mess, the dragon turned to look forward. True to Fancy’s word, they were coming down towards the gardens. He could just make out the fleeing animals, and his heart pounded in his chest at their speed. “I think you mean crash us into the gardens!”
“Yes,” Fancy admitted with a touch of worry, “that would be more accurate.”
Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Spike jumped to his feet. “Come on you guys, just a little longer! We’ve almost made it!”
“Everypony brace for impact!”
The crash was thunderous, the yacht’s bow smashing into the soft grass of the Gardens, and Spike went flying through the air. He closed his eyes and let out a shout of horror even as he silently cursed himself for not grabbing something when he’d had the chance. A lot of movement, a lot of chaos, a lot of noise, and then silence. And pain.
Spike opened his eyes and found himself hanging by his stomach on a tree limb. He had to fight to keep from losing the doughnuts from earlier.
“Oooh man,” he muttered, climbing into a sitting position, “I don’t think I wanna fly again anytime soon.”
He took a moment to calm his nerves, then looked around. He spotted the yacht half-buried in dirt not far off. “Guys!” He climbed down as quick as he could and ran. “Upper Crust! Fancy Pants! Is everypony okay?”
He found Upper Crust half-buried in dirt near the bow of the boat, surrounded by a number of other ponies who looked about as bad. She shook her head and let out a groan. “I feel fine, all things considered,” she muttered. Spike took her front hooves in his claws and pulled her out of the soil.
Fancy Pants was still at the boat’s wheel, having clung to it during the impact. He pulled himself away with an uncomfortable look and mane akimbo. “Not one of my finest landings, I’ll admit, but I can still mark this as one of my more interesting voyages.”
“Nopony seems too seriously hurt,” Spike ventured as he helped another mare up.
“For that we can all be grateful,” Fancy agreed. “And we owe it all to you. Sir Spike, Miss Upper Crust, you have my most sincere thanks!”
Spike couldn’t help beaming, though he cast a glance at the crash. “Umm, sorry about your yacht.”
But the big unicorn waved a dismissive hoof. “Oh, it’s nothing. What’s one yacht compared to the lives of all these ponies you saved?”
Upper Crust finally broke into a smile. “We…we did do it, didn’t we? I can’t believe it!”
“And that's your first step to becoming an Important Pony,” Fine Crime noted. He was standing atop the cabin, expression grim.
“You!” Upper Crust turned on him angrily. “You’re responsible for all this, you know!”
“But he did help,” Spike pointed out.
“Indeed,” Fancy agreed. “I daresay he gave the two of you the confidence needed to get the job done.”
“Thank you for noticing,” Fine said seriously. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a certain temptation that must be resolved soon, and a meeting to attend before that.”
“Waitaminute!” Upper Crust reared back on her hind legs. “Where’s the dragon egg?”
Fine Crime’s expression was cold as ice, so harsh Spike felt a chill run down his spine. “I’d suggest checking the museum.” A crimson glow covered his horn, and black smoke began to form around him in swirls.
“Hold it!” Upper Crust cried, but the black clouds covered Fine Crime, and when they dissipated a second later the unicorn was gone.
“Whoa,” Spike muttered. “How’d he do that?”
Spike had to deal with questions from the authorities involving the accident. He even had a moment to talk to Princess Celestia, who had come down to investigate the crash site. Fancy Pants had insisted on bringing everypony to a fancy dinner, with Upper Crust and Spike as the guests of honor.
Yet despite everything, there was no cheering Upper Crust. She’d lost the dragon’s egg, and her career was ruined. Spike, feeling sympathetic, offered to walk with her back to the museum to break the news to her boss, though by now there was no doubt that everypony already knew.
Which is why they were so shocked to return to find the dragon’s egg sitting in its case as if it had never left.
“Wha-wha-what?” Upper Crust ran circles around the display. “B-but it was gone, we both saw it! How? When?!”
“Maybe Fine Crime brought it back after the crash,” Spike ventured, though he doubted it.
“Nonsense! Why would he go through all that trouble to steal something and then put it back?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but this is going to make one heck of a story to tell the ponies back home.”
High in Canterlot Castle, Princess Luna sat before a table reading a report. Opposite her, face grim as he sipped some hot chocolate, was Fine Crime.
“An invisibility spell,” the Princess noted. “Clever. But do tell us, was crashing the yacht truly necessary?”
“It gave me a chance to put them on the spot,” he declared. “Fancy Pants can afford another one, after all, and Jet Set will be happy for the business.”
A critical look. “And the Gardens?”
He took on a mild grimace. “I had expected him to crash the yacht outside the castle. I do apologize for that, Luna.”
She accepted this response. The princess read for another moment, then dropped the papers onto the table and took a cup of tea. “Thy conclusions?”
He responded with authority. “I believe the candidate isn’t ready for what we have in store, but with a little time that can change. I recommend moving on to finding the next candidate, and letting this one stew for a while.”
“But thou art confident in thine selection?”
He nodded.
There was a long pause as she sipped her tea and considered his words. Finally, the princess answered, “We shall accept thy judgment on this matter, Sir Fine Crime. Thou hast our leave to proceed. We hope the next candidate may be found with equal rapidity.”
“I make no promises,” he replied, standing. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I have something. Oh, and do thank Celestia for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “For what, pray tell?”
“For agreeing to send the castle’s Pegasi Wing on maneuvers for a few days. The plan wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”
Princess Luna frowned. “Such was a dangerous course of action. Frankly, we are stunned our sister agreed. What if the candidate – or any of the other participants – had not responded accordingly?”
“Celestia didn’t know the plan,” he answered gravely, “but I had alternative options available. Don’t worry, Luna. I’m by no means new to this kind of thing. Now I must beg my leave. I’ve a temptation that’s killing me on the inside, and neither of us want me to succumb to it here.”
She glowered at him, but waved a dismissing hoof. A cloud of black and he was gone.
Luna sipped her tea and spent a few moments scowling at the report on the desk. Not for the first time, she wondered if Celestia’s trust in this ruffian wasn’t misplaced.
It was a dull, overcast day. A bit windy, just a little chilly. The stallion walking along the road thought it all rather annoying; winter had finally ended, and yet the cold weather still refused to leave.
He was a short fellow, white with a blonde mane, wearing a long blue shirt and flat-cap. He was also bored and tired, which made sense as he’d been walking non-stop all morning and afternoon. He really wished he hadn’t forgotten his map in the last town, if only so he could know how far away the next one was! He was so useless without one, having absolutely no talent for navigation.
Yet he at least knew civilization was near, the wooden fence by the road told him as much. The apple orchard, too. More than once he considered nabbing one, but always turned the thought away; he might be a runaway, but he was still above thievery.
After some time he finally had a sign of life: a constant, repeated thwacking sound that he knew couldn’t be natural. He could see there was somepony in the field up ahead. Maybe he could finally gain some directions. Checking to make sure his long shirt covered his cutie mark, he sped up to a optimistic trot.
He didn’t get far before getting a better look at the pony. The sight made him smile for the first time in nearly a week, for it was a mare. No knockout, but not bad on the eyes at all. Perhaps, if he was lucky…
The mare was bucking the apple trees, which instantly dropped their fruit with each heavy-sounding kick. So she was a farmer. How stupid, of course she was a farmer. Could he not see the massive orchard?
Nye took a moment to compose himself before leaning against the fence and calling out, “Hey there.”
The mare paused in her kicking to look around. She spotted him and gave a friendly, freckled smile. “Howdy!” Kick, down went the apples, neatly collected in a waiting wagon.
She sure made it look easy. “I’m Nye. You?”
“Applejack.” Another kick, another tree free of apples. “Ya’ll must be new ‘round here.”
“Uh, yeah.” A southern belle, eh? “New, and a little lost. What’s the next town down that way?” He gestured down the road.
Whack, another apple-free tree. “Yer headin’ ta Ponyville, friend. The Apple Family Orchard marks the outskirts of the town. Ya’ll keep headin’ that way an' you’ll be there in no time.” Whack.
Nye watched her buck a few more trees with genuine interest. “You’re pretty good at that.”
She paused to turn to him. “Pretty good? Ah reckin’ Ah’m the best apple-bucker this side of Canterlot!”
He rubbed his chin. “Apple-bucking. So that’s what they call it.”
She tilted her head with a grin. “Y’all ain’t never been ta a farm before, have ya?”
“City pony,” he confessed, not ashamed. “But I’d like to try. I’m looking for work, after all.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, then cast her gaze upon his hind legs. “Ah dunno, ya'll don’t look like no workhorse. No offense.”
He tried climbing over the fence; he didn’t pull it off with grace. “Hey… err, it’s no problem. Let me try. How hard can it be?” After all, she didn’t seem to have any trouble.
The doubt was plain on Applejack's face, but Nye had to try. He was at that stage where he’d willingly try just about anything. It was just bucking a tree, right?
He stood before one of the trees, gave her his most confident grin, and kicked with one leg.
A long pause.
Oh boy, not good.
He tried again with both legs, and again. Nothing.
Frustrated, he reared forward and put all his strength into his back legs, striking the tree so hard his hooves hurt.
A lone apple dropped hard on his head, making him wince.
Applejack laughed. Of course.
Nye lowered his head in shame. “I guess I’m no good at apple-bucking, either.”
“Don’t sweat it, sugarcube,” Applejack said quickly, patting him on the shoulder. “Ah’ve been doin' this my whole life. Besides, apple-buckin’s not fer everypony.”
He sighed and cast a sad eye at the apple that had fallen on his head. “Yeah… I guess so.” So much for impressing her. Or landing a steady job.
Applejack considered him, growing serious at his brooding manner. “Tell ya what: Ah’ve gotta head inta town once Ah’m done here. Why don’t ya come with me? Ah can point out a few places that might need yer help.”
He raised an eyebrow. "You would do that for somepony you don't even know?"
She nodded with a grin. "Why not?"
He didn't know how to feel about this kind offer. Considering his options for a few seconds, Nye realized that refusing the offer was an unpleasant notion. He wasn't comfortable with accepting it either, but... “It can’t hurt to look."
Nye had known better than to get his hopes up, and once again his expectations were accurate. He’d tried so many things that afternoon: quill selling to bookkeeping, pet care to gardening, muffins to cupcakes! A disaster, each and every one of them. By dusk he was feeling appropriately worthless and miserable, and Applejack had run out of ideas.
They were sitting by the town fountain, Nye having just gone through a particularly bad episode involving carpentry. “Look, Applejack,” he said, interrupting her attempt at encouragement, “I appreciate you’re trying to help, I really do, but it’s about time we faced facts: I’m just not very good at anything.”
She seemed unusually distraught for somepony who’d only just met him. “It just don’t make no sense. Surely there’s somethin' ya can do.”
“There is,” he said with head bowed. “Go to the hotel, sleep away my sorrows and move on to the next town. As always.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “The hotel? How are ya gonna pay fer a room when ya don’t have a job?”
“I’ve got money,” he answered. “Plenty of it. Just no job.”
“Seriously, sugarcube, that don’t make no sense, either. Where’d ya get the money?”
“It doesn’t matter, I don’t need the job for money.”
“Well then, what for?”
Nye leveled a grim, unpleasant look at her. “Self respect.”
He didn’t blame her confused frown; most ponies responded to him similarly.
Applejack abruptly facehoofed. “Fer the love of... Why didn’t Ah think of it before? Yer cutie mark! What’s yer special talent? Surely ya have some clue about—”
“No!” He set his haunch down on the fountain’s edge and glared at her. “Anything but that!”
She took a step back at his forcefulness. “What? But why?”
He glowered and looked away. “It’s personal, alright?”
“But yer special talent defines what ya can do,” she declared. “Why wouldn’t ya want ta use it?”
Nye didn’t like where this conversation was going, so he jumped to his hooves and turned to leave. He didn’t know why she’d helped him all this time, but he wanted no more of it. “I’m going to the hotel. Thanks for the—”
He hadn’t noticed that he was walking right into another pony. He crashed into boxes and rolls of fabric and found himself lying on the ground in a daze.
“Whoa, careful there.” Applejack came to the rescue of whoever he’d just hit. “Rarity! Sorry, he didn’t see ya there.”
Rarity? A friend of hers, he imagined. Hopefully she wasn’t so—
Nye caught sight of the unicorn and his mind froze; she had to have been one of the most attractive ponies he’d ever seen. Suddenly he was very happy to have met Applejack.
“Greetings!” He was on his hooves in an instant and gathering up boxes. “I’m sorry about this, I really should watch where I’m going sometimes. I’m Nye, friendly wanderer!”
Rarity accepted Applejack’s help. “Oh, it’s no problem, really.” She appeared as apologetic as he felt. “I was just carrying so many supplies. I couldn’t see where I was going.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of fancy.” Applejack eyed the ribbons and cloths and rolls of fabric that Nye was frantically trying to gather up. “Back from a Canterlot run, are ya?”
“Indeed I am.” Rarity lifted various things up with her magic and depositing them into assorted shopping bags. “I just got through with a very large order, but then I received an even bigger order for gala dresses. I simply didn’t have the material, so I spent a couple days in Canterlot. It’s a shame – I would have loved to have stayed there longer – but business is business.”
Nye was so busy cleaning up that he could only half-listen to the conversation, but he heard enough to make his heart sink a little. “So you’re… a dress maker?”
Rarity beamed. “I'm a designer! A fashionista! A very Important Pony, one of the most important in Ponyville!”
“Modest too,” Applejack added in a whisper clearly meant for his ears only.
Well, scratch her off his list of potentials.
Nye eyed the copious bags of supplies. It really was a big haul. How had she managed to get anywhere carrying it all, even with magic? He wasn’t really in the mood, but he couldn’t ignore a mare in need. “Here, how ‘bout I help you carry some of these to your shop, help lighten the load?”
“Oh, why thank you most sincerely,” Rarity replied in her oh-so-sweet voice. His eyes widened as a disproportionate number of bags floated forwards and dropped onto his back. He strained against the weight as she added, “Such a gentlepony.”
Applejack sighed and rolled her eyes. “Here, let me help, too.” She took some of the bags from his back, for which Nye – and his wobbling legs – were very grateful.
“You're both far too kind.” Rarity trotted happily past them with a lone bag hovering before her.
“Ya get used ta her after a while,” Applejack whispered with a grin as she trotted by. “Just go with it an nopony gets hurt.”
“Right,” he acknowledged through his teeth.
It wasn’t far to Rarity’s home, though night had fallen by the time they got there. It was a nice place, though Nye didn’t care for the interior colors. So many pinks and purples! Then again, she did seem like the kind of pony to enjoy those colors. He stood by, obediently holding all the bags while Rarity took her precious time putting things away.
“Why don’t Ah help?” Applejack asked, noting Nye’s patient-but-dour expression. “Just tell me where things go and—”
“No!”
Rarity blushed and set a dainty hoof to her lips. “Err, no thank you, dear. I’ve got it.”
“But does he?” Applejack asked with a wry smile and a nod towards Nye.
“Meh.” He would have waved a dismissive hoof if he weren’t afraid of tipping over. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t mind.” She raised an eyebrow. “Really.”
Rarity grinned and went back to work. “See? He’s just fine.”
Nye eyed his surroundings with only a half-interest, yet he was still able to make a few observations. “So you live here, Miss Rarity?”
“Why, yes! On the second floor, which is also my workshop.”
“Did you start the business on your own?”
“I certainly did,” she said. “It was rough going at first, but now I’ve a respected business. I regularly get Canterlot clientele.”
“Yep,” Applejack beamed. “The whole town’s awful proud of her! A bonafide regular at dress makin’.”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag,” Rarity added with a smirk, “but yes, I am. What is it that you do, Mr. Nye?”
He frowned and turned his head away. “I’m between jobs at the moment.” Then his eye caught the dress.
It was a lavish thing, a true blue beauty. One of her pieces, no doubt. He’d seen a lot of nice dresses, and he was no expert, but he had to acknowledge that it was a great outfit. Dresses weren’t his area, though. His area was…
His eyes dropped beneath the dress, where sat a quartet of matching blue shoes. He stared at them for a moment, his curiosity piqued. Their design was—
No.
He jerked his head away and blinked when he found Rarity practically in his face. She jumped back in surprise, the last bag she’d been lifting from him dropping haphazardly to the floor. “Oh, so sorry,” she said with a blush, “but I just noticed you were eyeing one of my designs.”
He swallowed, wishing he'd not been caught. “Yeah.” He turned back to look at the dress and tried to keep his eyes up.
There was a brief pause; he could tell without checking that she was watching him. Waiting for him to cast judgment, no doubt. “It’s… er… lovely.”
“Yes, it is isn’t it?” The disappointment in her voice was like a crack on the head with a hammer.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just a bit distracted.” His eye wandered to the shoes again.
“Oh, that’s alright.” Rarity made a good attempt at sounding cheerful. “It’s not my best piece, anyway. I’ll be right back, this goes upstairs.”
He watched her go, then caught Applejack’s look. “What?”
She looked back at the dress with a frown. “Ah was gonna ask ya the same thing. It looks like a nice fancy dress ta me. Not my style, of course. What didn’t ya like about it?”
Should he say? No, no he shouldn’t. He turned and approached the dress once more. It really was a beautiful piece of work, something he imagined his mother would have paid top-dollar for, had she still been alive. “It’s nice. Really, it is. I’m just not into that sort of thing.” Curse his eyes, flitting down to those shoes! He could make out certain things so easily, and what he saw was just…
By Celestia, he couldn’t help it! He dropped down and took one of the shoes from the mannequin.
Applejack stepped up beside him. “Ah’d be careful, Nye. That dress looks awfully expensive an' delicate, an' Rarity might not like ya handlin' it.”
“I have to take a look.” He turned the shoe around in his hooves with care. He examined the bottom, the sides, the interior, his frown deepening with each inspection.
He didn’t hear Rarity come back down. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Did something happen to the shoe? Oh, please tell me it’s not ruined! That dress ships to Fillydelphia first thing in the morning!” She was looming over his shoulder in an instant.
He raised the shoe so she could see it. “Is this going to be used a lot?”
She blinked. “What? Well, it’s an evening dress. You know, for balls and the like. I imagine the client will want to use it often, yes.”
He rose up and gave her a critical look, still carrying the shoe in one hoof. “You expect a pony to wear this more than once?”
The look of pain on her face actually stung him a bit, but he couldn’t resist; a travesty was enacted here, and he had to speak up. “Judging by the mannequin sizing you’ve arranged, I’d say this shoe is a quarter-size too large. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but I guarantee a week’s worth of wearing this thing will hurt in the long run.”
She stared at the shoe, then at him. “Oh. I thought you were saying the shoe was ugly.”
“No, it’s beautiful,” Nye acknowledged. “It’s also going to give your client a lifetime of joint pain. Or at least it would, if it lasts for more than two uses.”
“What?” She was truly perplexed now. “What do you mean?”
He shifted the shoe to display the inside. “There’s no protection! The client’s horseshoes will eat through the insole overnight, the out-sole within three.”
Rarity turned her head up and away. “The client wanted something light and fashionable! It’s the sacrifice one makes for style.”
“Why do they need shoes, anyway?” Applejack cut in. “Ah don’t know any ponies that wear 'em.”
Rarity gave her an appalled look; Nye only stared blandly at her.
“Why, it’s fashion!” Rarity declared. “Obviously shoes aren’t needed for everyday use, but with an ensemble like this, the shoes complete the art. They are essential!”
“Shoes and dresses go together like hay and oats,” Nye added before turning his attention back to Rarity. “Look, I know popular conception. It’s wrong. You can design these things to protect the shoe from the horseshoe. I’ve done it. Best bet is to put a horseshoe inside the shoe itself, with the mid-sole. Metal rings work, too.”
Rarity gained a skeptical frown. “You can do that?” But then she considered the shoe. “I suppose if one made a cutout for the mid-sole… but metal against metal isn’t exactly good health for horseshoes, now is it?”
“That’s why you replace the upper sole with rubber,” he declared. “Softens the blow and provides traction. Loads more comfortable, too.”
She took the shoe from him and studied it. “That… might work.”
“And,” he added smartly, “there’s an alternative design where the horseshoe is exposed and has nails.”
“Nails?”
“Yes.” Nye raised his hoof to show his horseshoe. “Remove the everyday horseshoe, then slip on the one in the shoe. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect fit.” He glanced at his own hoof and added with a frown, “Well, the theory is sound. Never finished the design.”
He felt something shift on his flank, and a chill ran down his spine. He glanced back to see Applejack lifting the bottom half of his long shirt. She was looking right at his cutie mark: a high-heeled shoe and three tacks. He jerked away and glared at her.
“That explains the crazy knowledge ya got,” she said witha grin. “Yer a shoemaker!”
“The term,” Rarity corrected, still focused on the shoe, “is cobbler.”
Nye continued to glare at Applejack. “Yes, I’m a cobbler.”
Applejack cocked her head at him. “Ah don’t get it, what’s so terrible about bein' a cobbler? Ya could help Rarity make shoes if ya'll really wanted a job that badly.”
"You know, I wouldn’t mind that at all." Rarity shot him a winning smile. "I really like these ideas of yours.”
He turned from them both with a snort. “Yeah, that’s me. Nye Stone, cobbler extraordinaire! Pleasant disgrace.”
“Disgrace?” Applejack asked. “What makes ya a disgrace?”
But Rarity caught on quick. “Nye Stone? As in the Stone family?” Her interest in the shoe faded quick. “You mean you’re related to Stikin Stone?”
Nye flopped to his haunches and sighed. “Dear old Dad, your reputation precedes me again.”
“Dad?”
“Hold on, now.” Applejack raised her hooves to get their attention. “Ah’m confused. Who’s this Stikin Stone feller?”
“I’d hardly expect you to know,” Rarity replied with an apologetic frown. “He’s an engineer, one of the most influential engineers in Manehattan! The Stone Family is full of very Important Ponies, famed for having excellent builders: architects, engineers, designers, contractors, drafters! And… umm… well…”
Ah, there it was. “That’s right,” Nye threw over his shoulder. “You don’t hear about any cobblers in the Stone Family, do ya? That’s why I’m a disgrace! Not like my brother, apple in Dad’s eye.”
Rarity was standing beside him, her face etched in concern. “You’re the brother that disappeared a year back, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t disappear, I ran away.” He stood and made for the door. “I’m getting out of here. It was nice meeting both of you.”
“What?” Applejack sounded hurt. “But we didn’t mean ta—”
“I know.” He slammed the door behind him.
Nye had slept hard, and with the morning sun and a little breakfast he was ready to move on to the next town. Hopefully he wouldn’t find any curious ponies there, wherever ‘there’ was.
He took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look that good. Well, he certainly felt miserable, why should he look any different? His conversation the night before with Rarity and Applejack kept creeping back into his mind. If he’d just ignored the bucking shoe and its obvious flaws, they never would have found out! He cursed his cutie mark for the thousandth time since the exchange, taking extra care to ensure his shirt covered it as much as possible when he left the hotel room. He didn’t want anything to do with Ponyville, not anymore. He’d rather just slip out, unnoticed and invisible. As always.
Which was why he was so distraught when he opened the hotel’s front door and found a pair of mares waiting for him.
“Oh, no.” He glared at Rarity and Applejack. “Not you two.”
They gave one another sad glances, then Applejack removed her hat. “Listen, sugarcube. We wanted ta apologize fer last night.”
“Indeed,” Rarity said. “We had no idea we were broaching such a personal subject.”
Nye brushed past them, not caring that he was being rude. “Well, you did. Now you know, so I gotta go.”
To his irritation, the two mares began to walk along with him. “But why?” Applejack asked. "There are still dozens of jobs fer ya ta try out. We barely scratched the surface yesterday.”
“And we promise not to tell anypony about your background,” Rarity offered with a hopeful smile.
He turned to gaze at each mare one at a time, anger bubbling within him. “Why are either of you bothering with this? You don’t know me. I’m just a jerk of a stranger passing through on his way to his next set of failures. I mean, how long were you waiting at the door for me to come out? I’m not asking for help, I’m asking to be forgotten.”
This time when the two exchanged glances, there was a certain unpleasantness to their expressions. Applejack took a firm step so that she was right in his face. “Listen, we’re tryin’ ta be friendly an’ help ya out! Fer some ponies, bein’ nice is only natural.”
“That’s right,” Rarity chided. “We are trying to help and you respond with rudeness! It’s obvious you’re down on your luck. We only wanted to let you know that we can keep your secret.”
Applejack walked around him, head held high. “If ya wanna go, nopony’s gonna stop ya, but if ya wanna stay, that’s an option too.”
Rarity tossed her mane such that it smacked him in the muzzle before following her friend. “We’re sorry if our sincere concern offends you so much. Next time we’ll keep our apologies to ourselves.”
Nye stared after them, truly perplexed. All those niceties the night before, and now… well, now he felt like crap. He considered letting them go. After all, why should this bother him? And yet there was just something…
“Wait.” He followed after them. “Please, wait.” They turned back, and he lowered his head at their piercing glares. “I’m sorry. I guess I really was a little bit of a jerk.”
They raised their eyebrows in unison.
“Okay, maybe not a little.” He blushed, trying to think of what he was trying to say. “It’s just… I mean… I’m not used to ponies being nice to me. It’s been so long, I sorta forgot what it was like.” He glanced away in shame. “It’s the thing about being the black sheep in the family; nopony likes you, so you stop liking everpony else.”
They considered him for several seconds, making him feel more and more like a bug. At last, Rarity spoke: “Darling, you’re much too hard on yourself. I’m sure there are plenty of ponies who would like you, you just need to stick around long enough for them to get to know you.”
“Yeah,” Applejack agreed, that friendly smile popping back onto her face with enviable ease. “Find yerself a job, stick around fer a while. Ya might just find that ya belong in Ponyville. Lots of ponies do, just ask our friend Twilight.”
He glanced around at the quite town. “Well, I suppose I could give it another try. You really promise not to tell anypony about my family?”
They raised their hooves in unison. Applejack added, “An' we promise not ta bring the subject up again.”
Rarity concluded, “Or to suggest you be a cobbler.”
He considered them, their promise and the situation, then smiled. “Y'know, I could get used to ponies being nice to me. Alright, girls, fine. In the name of good relations between myself and the rest of ponydom, I’ll give Ponyville another try.”
Applejack beamed. “Glad ta hear it. You just wait, Ah’m sure y’all find somethin' ya can do here.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “I won’t be getting my hopes up – never do – but maybe I will. And, uh… thanks. You know, for coming by and all. It means more than I would have thought.”
“But of course, darling,” Rarity answered with head held high. “What are friends for?”
He blinked and stared at her. “Friends?”
Applejack nodded and set a hoof to his shoulder. “Yeah, friends.”
He stared at her hoof, then at the two ponies.
Friends.
Huh.
Nighttime in Ponyville, and Nye was on his way back to his apartment. He’d been here three weeks, a significant new record. Every day, he woke up in the morning and found himself actually happy to greet the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… good. He’d made new friends, finally got a job at the local railroad station as a ticketmaster, and even found his own place to live. Two months ago, if somepony had said he’d be settling down in a place like this he’d have bucked them in the teeth!
Friends. It still seemed such an odd concept for him. Applejack and Rarity had introduced him to a few ponies, and within days he’d been amazed to find himself entering a small social circle. He especially got along well with the local pegasus, Rainbow Dash, with whom he shared a penchant for naps and general laziness.
He trotted along the path to his apartment, taking in the novelty of realizing that a path could become familiar, when he spotted the shared mailbox of his apartment. He never checked his mail. Nopony outside of Ponyville knew where he lived, so why would anypony send him a letter? Which is why he had to pause and take another look when he noticed that the door to his own box had been opened.
He considered moving on; it was probably some sort of mistake. Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he reached in to find a single letter. The handwriting was neat and elegant, and it was definitely addressed to him. Who could possibly…? He used his teeth to rip open the envelope.
He didn’t need to read beyond the first two lines to know what he was looking at. There, nestled at the bottom of the letter, was a shiny gold ticket. The sight of it made his heart sink.
“Well, what have you got there?”
Nye nearly flew out of his horseshoes! He landed and jerked about to find a mottled-brown unicorn with a black mane standing right behind him. The unicorn eyed the ticket with interest. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala!”
Nye clutched the ticket and eyed the stranger. “Yeeees… Who are you?”
“A local.”
“A local?” he repeated, glancing around as if expecting to see the pony’s house nearby. “I haven’t seen you in this part of town. Where do you live?”
“Around.”
“Around.” Nye wasn’t sure he liked the way this pony was responding. “Can I help you with something?”
“Oh, not at all,” the unicorn answered with a pleasant smile. “I just noticed your ticket and had to offer my most heartfelt congratulations.”
Screw that. “You want it? I sure don’t.”
“But whatever do you mean?” The unicorn's eyebrows rose. “That’s a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala. Do you have any idea what some ponies would give to get one? Those invitations come from Princess Celestia herself. You don’t reject an invitation from a princess.”
“I’d sure like to,” Nye growled.
The unicorn shook his head. “I'm confused. Why wouldn’t you want to go to the Gala? I was under the impression that most ponies dream of getting an invitation.”
Nye chose to ignore the question. “I’ve got a dream come true right here. Sure you don’t want it? It’s going in the trash, otherwise.”
“Oh, no no no. Not me,” the stranger replied with a wave of his hoof. “I’m not near important enough for such a grand occasion. You, on the other hoof, must be a very Important Pony to somepony out there. You should go!”
Nye scowled and turned to head for his apartment, not bothering to say goodbye.
“Well, if you’re certain,” the unicorn called at his back. “Why not offer it to one of your friends? Surely there’s a mare out there who’d love to take that off your hooves.”
“What I choose to do with it is my own—” Nye turned around and went silent: the unicorn was gone. He looked down the road and all around the immediate area, but there was no sign of the stranger.
He couldn’t explain why, but Nye suddenly felt very nervous. Almost… scared. He slipped into his apartment and was sure to lock the door. He went to toss the ticket in the garbage, but paused to stare at it.
You know, that creepy unicorn was right: surely somepony out there would like to have this ticket. Rarity would be the natural choice, she just seemed like the type to appreciate it the most. When he really thought about it, though, he felt that he should offer it to Rainbow. He felt closer to her, after all.
Would she qualify as a best friend?
What a wholly novel concept.
Curse that Twilight Sparkle! She just had to be friends with all the best mares in Ponyville, and her royal connections got tickets for all of them. There he was, with what could only be the single best gift a mare could ask for, and another mare had beaten him to it. Insufferable!
Yet that hadn’t been the greatest blow, oh no; after he found that he couldn’t give the ticket away to his preferred ponies, they all promptly ganged up on him and insisted he go to the Gala. He tried to make it clear that he didn’t want to go, that he had very serious personal reasons for skipping out. But no, they pressed him.
So here he was, standing next to a window watching a bunch of posh ponies congratulate themselves for being rich. He was even wearing a nice tux, which Rarity had made for him as part of the trap.
So curse that Twilight Sparkle.
Curse the Grand Galloping Gala.
And curse himself for being unable to say no to a pretty face. Several pretty faces. Why did he have to have a weakness for mares?
Nye hated the Gala. He’d only been once before, when his family had been invited a few years ago. It had been humiliating – for himself and his family – and he had sworn never to go again. Let his father and brother indulge in the family glory.
Which was exactly what they were doing. Nye had spent much of the night carefully dodging his remaining two living relatives, making absolutely certain they never saw him.
Had they been the ones to arrange the ticket for him? Had they somehow learned that he was living in Ponyville? The thought had kept him awake a few nights since he’d received the invitation. He’d even seriously considered leaving Ponyville entirely, but couldn’t. He’d finally found someplace he liked. And friends.
He just couldn’t leave.
But he could dodge, and dodge he did. He might have spent time with his friends, but they all seemed to have their own agendas. Something about ‘the best night ever.’ Right. Not for him.
The Gala was well under way and he was growing more and more tired of the entire charade. He certainly wasn’t bored, what with keeping away from his father and brother. Still, he could use a little boredom at the moment; he could only avoid them for so long.
Finally too frustrated to want to continue, Nye waited until the servants weren’t paying attention and slipped through a hallway and up some stairs. He went to the first door he found and entered a darkened room to relax, at last confident that he wouldn’t be found.
He realized he was in some sort of large balcony room overlooking the central ballroom. It was well decorated; perhaps it had been planned to be part of the celebrations? It clearly hadn't been included for the evening, though. He went to the balcony to stare down at the elite ponies, glad to be away. He eyed his father and brother, looking so proud of themselves it made him feel sick. There was Rainbow Dash amongst her heroes, the Wonderbolts. Curious, she didn’t seem all that thrilled.
And there was Twilight Sparkle, in position beside the great and glorious Princess Celestia. Even in his displeasure, Nye couldn’t help but stare at the princess and feel warmth. There could be no faulting her for any of this, of course. How in her own name had his father convinced her to send him an invitation? Or his brother, perhaps?
He heard the sound of hoofsteps behind him and jerked about quickly. His heart skipped a beat; if he wasn’t supposed to be here – and there was nothing to say he was – he might be in trouble. What a disaster for his friends that would be!
For a moment he saw nothing. Perhaps he was hearing things. But then he saw it: a tall pony hidden in the shadows. He could see the wings by the outline. So it was a pegasus. An unusually tall pega... no. No, that wasn’t a pegasus.
It was an alicorn.
Before his heart had skipped a beat; now it all but stopped entirely. The alicorn came into the light from the ballroom and revealed herself to be the one and only Princess Luna.
He dropped into a bow as fast as possible, which was good because he suspected his knees would have given out otherwise. “P-Princess! Please forgive this intrusion!”
When the princess spoke, it was in a strained voice. “Thou art forgiven, my loyal subject.” She sounded as if she were struggling to shout and keep her voice down at the same time. “Though I am obliged to ask why thou hast come to this place so hidden from the night’s festivities.”
Oh boy. Could he lie to Nightmare Moon? Well, she wasn’t Night Mare Moon anymore, was she? But still a princess. Could he lie to a princess? A truly magnificent princess, he added to himself upon glancing up at her. Indeed, he dared to think she put Princess Celestia to shame.
Idiot! The Princess of the Night was waiting for an answer!
“I…” Nye paused to consider his words. He could think of nothing save the truth. So, hesitantly, “I was looking to get away from… the Gala.”
The princess tilted her head at him. “Doth not my sister’s celebration please thee?”
He leapt up. “It’s a great party! Wonderful, really!” Oh, what was he saying? “It's just… I’m not a big party pony.”
The princess, tall and regal, stepped past him to the balcony and gazed down at the partygoers. “We understand.”
He stared at the back of her head – a moment to observe that delightful mane! – and was perplexed. Wasn’t she going to send him away or something of that sort? He glanced around at the darkened room, questions floating through his head. Should he ask? Was it appropriate?
“W-why…?” She didn’t look back, but there was a slight motion to her head that told him she was paying attention. He swallowed for courage. “I-if you don’t mind my asking, why… umm… why are you here and not down there?”
It seemed at first as though she wouldn’t answer. Nye was just preparing to slink back to the Gala, feeling like some sort of criminal, when she spoke. “Our sister proffered to make this our chance to revisit a life in view of the public. For a year we have been adjusting, re-accustoming ourselves to our old duties, yet we feel that this occasion is not appropriate for a public return.”
For a princess, she was being strangely open. With how much he always tried to hide, and knowing her past as everypony did, the difference was strangely humbling.
Feeling brave, Nye walked up beside the princess and stared down at the guests, all oblivious to their gaze. “My brother and father are down there,” he admitted after a few seconds of tense silence. “Truthfully, Princess, it is them I’m avoiding, not the Gala.”
He could feel her eyes on him. It made him not just a little nervous. “Thou fearest a reunion.” Again with that strange tone.
He looked up at her, noting how she was taller than him by a significant margin. Every second had him feeling more brave about this conversation. Perhaps it was how open she was being, though she still held that regal air that kept him on edge. “Princess, if I may ask, why are you speaking with such a… tone?”
To his surprise, the princess actually blushed. “We are attempting to follow tradition and discretion in equal measure. Tradition demands a set tone and volume, but discretion demands restraint.”
“Oh.” That sounded annoying. “You could just follow discretion? For the moment?” She gave him an imperial look, which he countered with a weak smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Promise.”
Her royal veneer cracked with the slightest glimmer of a smile. “We shall… try. What is thy name, subject?”
He frowned and glanced away, forcing an honest answer to his lips. “Nye. Nye Stone.”
He waited for her reaction. There wasn’t one. When he looked at her again, she was gazing down at the crowd once more.
Nye felt foolish; of course she wouldn’t know about the Stone Family legacy. How could she, having been out of touch for a thousand years?
When she spoke again, her tone was commanding. “Speak not of this chance encounter to anypony, Sir Stone. Our return to public life must arise in our own manner and time.”
He winced. “Please, Princess, Nye only.” He turned to her and tried once again to form a smile. “I’d rather keep my family name a secret. Past regrets and all.”
“It would seem, then, that silence shall be beneficial to us all.”
Well, that had been easy. He found he rather liked this princess. Granted, he’d never personally met any other princess, but still.
Perhaps it was time he made himself scarce. There was still the Gardens, where Fluttershy had gone. Maybe he could stay there; avoid the Gala and his kin and be out of the princess’s way.
And yet…
Nye stared at Princess Luna. Her gaze was upon the crowd below, eyes slowly shifting from face to face. There was an inescapable sadness in her manner, as if she were still dealing with things beyond his comprehension. Things involving Nightmare Moon. Things involving her job.
Things involving Princess Celestia?
He realized how lonely she must be. Perhaps she dearly wanted to be part of society. A princess who wasn’t loved by her subjects? What must it be like to fear the public eye, and yet so desperately want to have it? He knew. He’d been there. He’d not been exiled for a thousand years, but he knew exactly what it felt like to be ostracized.
He thought back on what he’d earned in the past few months: a home to belong to, something to do. Friends. It had felt so special to have friends for once. It still did.
“Princess? How would you like to make a long-distance friend?”
She blinked, slowly turning her puzzled face to stare at him. She held his gaze for several seconds, seeming lost in her own thoughts.
And then she smiled. Beautifully.
Maybe having a weakness for mares wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
Luna remained in the dark after he’d left, pondering this recent turn of events. She didn’t have long to think about it, though; there was another who had her attention.
“Dost thou presume to spy upon thy princess?”
A shift in the light, ever so faint, and the unicorn appeared in a corner nearby, as if hidden by a mirage.
“Hide from the mistress of all night?” Fine Crime asked. “Preposterous. But spying on a candidate? That’s another matter entirely.”
She cast a stately glance his way, but there was no hiding her surprise. “Candidate? Him?”
“Yes.” Fine approached the balcony. “His meeting with you was entirely unplanned, mind. Now that you’ve met him, what do you think?”
“He strikes an impression of one conflicted with inner turmoil.”
Fine chuckled. “Aren’t we all?”
Luna cast a stern gaze upon him. “We doubt it safe that thou art here amongst all these ponies.”
“You and me both.” He gazed down at the crowds below with a solemn frown. “You can relax, I won’t be having any visions tonight. Besides, I’ll be spending the majority of this night in the Garden. Observing.”
She kept her gaze locked on him. “Pray tell, observing what?”
He smiled in a slow manner that disturbed her. “Only the single prettiest pony I have ever laid eyes on.”
fine caught her glance and coughed in a self-conscious manner. “What? I said I won’t have a vision. Even if I did, I would hold myself back. I wouldn’t dare touch an Element-Bearer, which is what she is. Kindness, if I recall correctly.”
Luna was appalled. “Claimest thou to be targeting the bearers of the Elements of Harmony for thy—”
“I said no.” Fine's lips formed a scowl. “I’ve lived with this curse half my life, Luna. I think I would know how to keep it in check, or at the very least when to find a suitable location before it takes over. A little trust would be appreciated in this relationship.”
She locked him with an icy glare. “This is no relationship. Thou art a subject of the realm and in our service. At Celestia’s behest we accepted thy management of this duty, and with no small amount of reservation.”
“And I’m certain Celestia informed you of my years of loyal service,” he countered coolly. “She accepted me being a Bloodmane all those years. She defined the rules, and I’ve stuck by them to the letter. In return, she never questioned my methods.”
“Well, we do.”
Fine glowered as he considered her statement. “Then I suppose now’s a bad time to inform you that I had somepony break into the public relations office and forge Mr. Stone’s invitation letter and ticket?”
“What?” Luna cast a surprised glance down into the ballroom, but could not find Nye in the crowd. “Why wouldst thou do such a thing?”
“I wanted to see how he would respond,” Fine answered. “To see how he’d react when his new friends pushed him to come, to watch how he’d handle being at the same party as his estranged family. Most importantly, to see if his terrible fear of having his new home discovered would outweigh his fear of losing his new friends and home.”
She set a hoof to her lips and studied him. “And?”
Fine’s expression was firm. “He succumbed to his friends’ desires over his own. A point in his favor. He also has so far successfully evaded his family, though I cannot say as of yet whether this is a good thing or not. Most importantly, he did not flee Ponyville. Great marks there. Of course, there was an unexpected element; he met you. Did he flee in terror?”
The princess shifted, blushing. “No.”
“No.” He nodded with a smile. “No, he didn’t. In fact, he’s actively trying to help you by befriending you. That, Princess, is what you call ‘bonus points’.
“So you see, I’m performing my investigation. I’m doing as you asked and gathering the information. Three candidates have been found. One is clearly suitable to the task, while one requires a bit more experience.”
She eyed him. “Thou spoke not of a third candidate before.”
Fine's smile faded to a solemn frown. “That’s because I need to keep an eye on him for a bit longer. I’m still not convinced that he has all the qualifications. You’ll know when I know.”
Luna considered his words for a long time before finally responding. “We see that thou art indeed making progress. A thousand years past, thy methods would be questionable, but we cannot argue that they are ineffective. Yet thou art still a Bloodmane, Sir Fine Crime, and that is something we are having a very difficult time reconciling.”
“I understand perfectly,” he said with complete seriousness. “I find it hard to accept, myself.”
For some unfathomable reason, she approved of that answer. “Very well, Sir Fine Crime. We will cease questioning thy methods… openly. But be warned, do not make us regret granting thee such responsibility. Now please, leave us to our thoughts.”
He nodded and made for the shadows. “One more thing, Luna. I understand that you doubt me. In your horseshoes, I would doubt me, too. But please know this: I served your sister devotedly for years. Since your return and assumption of the royal duties, my devotion has been set upon you.
“I do not take my duties lightly. You may yet live for another thousand years, and you will be hard-pressed to find another pony so determinedly loyal as I. My life for yours, Luna. Remember that when you begin to suspect where my interests lie.
“And if you doubt that,” he concluded, dark clouds beginning to form around him, “I suggest you ask your sister about my dragon record.”
He was gone.
Luna stared at the place he’d occupied just a moment ago, brooding over his words as the night wore on.
The train rumbled on in the early morning, trees making the sun sparkle in her eyes. A wakeup call from Celestia, or so it seemed. The Mare frowned at the bright light and lowered the shade just enough to stop the insistent flashing. She sat up slowly and yawned with a big, pleasant stretch. She was starting to get used to these train rides. There was a time when sleeping on one was near impossible. Now she hardly noticed the noise and jerky motions. Indeed, the constant ka-klak ka-klak of the rails had become something of a lullaby, the rocking cars as pleasant as a baby’s crib.
In a way, these trains were starting to feel just like home.
She studied her reflection in the mirror through droopy eyelids. Her thick, dark-gray mane waved before her face like a composer’s baton. She followed its movements with her eyes, imagining herself on stage before a crowd. The hair was her baton, and the forest beyond the glass pane her orchestra. Hooftoskie’s Sonnet Naturale crept its way into her mind, and she took a moment to indulge in her mental performance.
Ah yes, the crescendo, the crowds applauding. She smiled at the thought. It wasn’t a perfect daydream. If it were, the music would have been her own. Someday, perhaps. Someday.
She took a moment to wash her face, fix her hair, apply appropriate makeup. It was nice to have a private cabin. A few years ago the luxury seemed an eternity away, but now it was something she could afford. Barely. When she checked her reflection again she was a pony of culture and class. Perfect.
Leaving her things behind, she entered the car’s hallway and made for the dining car next door. She sat in her favorite booth, the one next to the window with the crack running down its side and the seat facing the rear of the train. She liked to watch things move away, because she preferred to remember where she came from.
The server pony recognized her. “The usual, miss?”
“Of course.” The Mare had a light voice, with a certain soprano quality. Not the voice she might have preferred, but it suited her fine. It worked well with the practiced high-class accent, too.
She got comfortable against the window, watching the passing scenery with a smile. Everything seemed so…right this morning. The sun was shining, the train ride was relaxing, and she was on her way home. Yes, a nice day. She was looking forward to it.
“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” The Mare, distracted from pleasant daydreams, turned to find a rather peculiar pony at her table. She had a yellow coat and white mane, but it was her clothing that caught the eye: a reddish-pink dress with white décor and frills over a blue sweater and thick round sunglasses that completely obscured her eyes.
“No,” the Mare acknowledged, “go right ahead.” In truth, she was a little annoyed; this was her booth, a place of peace and relaxation! She didn’t want anypony else to be there, at least not now. But a cursory glance around revealed that all the other seats really were taken, and she was by no means a rude pony.
“Oh, thank you, darling,” the stranger answered with a winning grin. “Picture Perfect, photojournalist extraordinaire. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
No, no she hadn’t. But the Mare wouldn’t let that come out. “A pleasure. I’m—”
“But of course it’s a pleasure, why wouldn’t it be? I’m on my way back from documenting a scandalous little adventure in Las Pegasus, so very scandalous! I’d love to share, but the Canterlot Highlights bought first dibbs, and I’m no snitch, oh no, Darling.”
“I see…” The Mare suddenly didn’t want to be at the table, anymore. Yet she would be a good filly and pay attention, or at least try to. There didn’t seem any point in talking; Picture Perfect did enough of that for the both of them.
“Of course, if I were feeling particularly devilish, I might be tempted to share the teensy-tiniest bit of information! So many ponies would just kill for a real scoop these days. That’s what makes me so special, of course, I always find the good stuff. Oh.” She noted the server pony who’d arrived with the carrot and pecan salad. “I’d like a clover salad, and could you add some basil and rosemary to the mix? Thank you darling. Were was I?”
“Ummm,” the Mare started, pulling her plate close.
“Good stuff, of course!” Perfect fired on. “I have an eye for the perfect image, the shot that reveals all the darkest secrets of Equestria’s finest. I even took some juicy photos of Princess Cadance with a dashing unicorn from the Royal Guard. Oh so scandalous!”
“Are you sure that qualifies as dark?” her reluctant companion asked, glad to finally have gotten a full sentence in. Feeling a little proud of the achievement, the Mare decided to sit the rest out and enjoy her salad while her visitor rambled.
“Oh, perhaps not dark dark, no, but still a photo for the ages!” Perfect raised a very modern-looking camera from her purse, displaying it with head held high. “My baby! She caught the whole thing, oh yes she did, and the press adored it! The pinnacle of my career, I might say. But pinnacles were made to be knocked down, and I intend to knock my own out of the park! These new photos from Las Pegasus aren’t quite so jaw-dropping of course – the fancy owner of a casino is nothing compared to a princess – but even so I just know everypony will be digging their teeth into them.”
Was she even aware that she’d revealed the topic of her photos, and thus the content she’d undoubtedly uncovered? The Mare tried to enjoy her salad, but it just wasn’t happening with this noisome pony constantly yammering. No, no, she would be civil and patient.
She eyed a quartet of foals walking by, looking a bit too young to be traveling on their own. It was a boring distraction, but she had to have something to help her cope with this.
“But that’s the glory of the job!” Picture Perfect was still rambling, not noticing her audience’s straining attention. “A journalist is the epitome of honor. We find the wrongdoings, the dirty little secrets, and expose them to the public! It is our duty to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice. Can you think of a more noble, more honorable calling? No, of course you can’t, darling, how could you? We are the knights of the modern Equestria, our cameras are our swords! Oh, that looks delicious.”
A precious moment of silence while the server pony delivered Perfect’s salad.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Brakes screamed, the car rocked, and suddenly the Mare's booth was flying backwards. The noise was like an explosion of snapping wood and shattered glass! There was no time to think or brace for impact. She could see ponies being flung about like dolls, panic and fear and shock emblazoned on their faces.
And then silence.
She was on her back against the wall of the car...which was now the floor. She took a moment to feel herself and be sure she was in one piece, and thanked Celestia that she seemed uninjured.
Her mind was brought into focus by a flashing white light. As she stood tenderly back on four legs, she saw ponies lying all over the wrecked car. Some were climbing to their hooves, others remained down, moaning in pain. Among them was Picture Perfect. Clickflash, clickflash.
“W-what are you doing?” the Mare asked, barely remembering to keep the high-class accent.
“Recording!” Perfect spun about and flashed a shot in her face. “Ponies all over Equestria are going to want to see this!”
The Mare shoved the camera from her face and stepped past Picture Perfect towards the front of the car. She wanted to see what was happening, but the door wouldn’t open. Well, there was more than one way to skin a cat; she turned and began bucking. It took several tries, and the camera kept flashing the whole time. It was rapidly getting annoying. At last the door’s hinges snapped, and it dropped to the grass noisily.
Ducking her head to get through the horizontal opening, the Mare stepped outside and was shocked to see the five cars ahead squashed together like an accordion. Not far away was the Ponyville train station where she could see ponies rushing to help. Behind the diner car was a scene of vehicular destruction the likes of which she wouldn’t forget soon.
What had happened?
She returned to the car, bumping into Picture Perfect as she did. The accursed pony still had that camera out!
“Stop taking photos and help me,” the Mare snapped, shoving the photojournalist aside and assisting an elderly pony on the floor.
“No time,” Perfect cried, moving for the door. “There’s history to be recorded here!”
The Mare ground her teeth and continued her work. Soon ponies were entering the car and helping. A white stallion with a blond mane and dressed as a station attendant was helping get ponies out of the train. “What happened to the train?” she asked him, helping an older mare out of the train.
The attendant cursed as he slipped on some broken glass. He was struggling to help a white unicorn almost twice his size. “Ponyville’s…got a dragon problem.”
“A dragon!?”
“A dragon,” the attendant repeated as they delivered their respective rescuees to the ponies outside. “Came out of nowhere, grabbing everything it could! It took part of the rail line from the tracks. You know the rest.”
“Where is it now?” she asked with concern.
“Help!” They turned to see Picture Perfect fleeing towards them, a fifteen-foot lizard charging behind her. “You can’t have my camera, you beast!”
“Spike want!”
“It talks!” the Mare cried.
“It’s coming this way,” the attendant corrected, running back to the dining car and presumed safety.
So it was. The Mare’s thoughts were fast; she moved aside, waited for Picture Perfect to come alongside, then threw herself into her. The two collapsed sideways just as the dragon pounced, missing them by the hair on their tails. The thing was so focused on them it didn’t notice the tree, smacking right into it.
The dragon shook its head, stood and caught sight of a police pony carrying a baton. The stallion was shaking in his uniform.
The dragon pointed at the baton. “Spike want!”
The officer fled, dragon hot on his tail.
“Are you alright?” the Mare asked.
“Oh, just fine, thank you darling.” Perfect stood and brushed herself off. “Such a ruffian, going after my baby like that! No respect for journalism.”
“W-what’s going on?”
They turned to find three fillies crawling out from under the train. She recognized them as the ones she’d spotted in the dining car. They didn’t seem hurt, but they were clearly confused and afraid. She glanced about at the carnage; this was no place for children.
She stepped up to the fillies. “Are you three okay?”
They nodded in unison. “But our friend’s not. He got hurt, and we can’t get him up.”
“Show me.”
They took her around the car to the next one, which was lying at a right angle from the tracks. Another camera flash. The Mare wanted to snap at Perfect, but felt it wouldn’t help the foals any to do so.
Their friend was a small green colt with a blue mane. He had fallen through a window and was caught beneath the train car. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.
She ducked beneath the car, which was precariously upheld by the wreckage of another car. “Hey, young stallion. You okay?”
The poor guy was in tears. “I can’t move my leg,” he whimpered. “It hurts. Really, really hurts.”
“You’re going to be okay, sweetie,” the Mare assured him, trying to keep an edge of confidence in her tone. “You just give me a moment, and we’ll have you out of there.”
One of the fillies got under the car next to her. “Don’t worry, Green, we’ll get you out!”
She backed out of the wreckage, pulling the filly out by the tail and depositing her with the other two. “You three stay here,” she ordered. “We’ll see to your friend, okay?” They nodded with shared expressions of worry.
She turned to Perfect, who was still clicking away. “It’s too dangerous for these three to help. Keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, yes, whatever you say Darling.” Clickflash, clickflash.
The Mare was going to buck that pony’s camera down her throat if this continued.
It took several precious minutes to round up a few stallions. They all got together beneath the car and struggled to lift it, but the thing wouldn’t budge even with half a dozen ponies. The Mare was starting to worry, but she kept under the car and continued to encourage the poor colt. He was scared, but he kept calm calm, and for that she could only be grateful.
After a few tries, the stallions all gathered around her. They all shared fretful expressions as they discussed the situation.
“This isn’t working,” one of them announced.
“The lot of us together can’t move it, so now what?”
“Maybe we can get Ambrosia to cut him out?”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Compared to being stuck under a train car?”
“Point taken.”
“What’s going on here?” They all looked up to find a blue-coated, periwinkle-maned mare approaching them. “Why aren’t you all helping?”
“Shoeshine,” one of the stallions called, “you know where Ambrosia or one of her crewmates are? We need help!”
They quickly explained the situation, the earth pony observing the fallen car. “I know just what you boys need! Give me a moment.”
The Mare ducked under the car again to reassure Green. When she came back out Shoeshine was already on the way back, accompanied by what had to be the biggest stallion the Mare had ever laid eyes on. Well, he certainly looked like he’d have the muscle!
“He’s down there,” Shoeshine explained to him, and he bent low to observe the colt. “You can lift this thing, right?”
“Eeyup.”
The big red stallion positioned himself beneath the car and started to lift, straining from the huge weight. The other stallions were quick to join in. They struggled and pushed and lifted and fought, and to the Mare’s amazement the car actually began to rise! She crawled under as quick as she could to Green and encouraged him to try moving. It took several seconds, but at last his leg came free. She caught him up and dragged him out, and the stallions dropped the big thing with a resounding crash.
The colt was in tears, but his filly friends were there quick to cheer his brave escape. Meanwhile the adults were crowding around the big red stallion and cheering.
Clickflash, clickflash, clickflash!
“The brave hero stallion, risking life and limb to save the terrified colt!” Picture Perfect was grinning from ear to ear. “I smell a Foallitzer!”
Nevermind the other stallions. Or the Mare, who risked getting crushed under the car to pull the colt out! No, be civil, be civil…
“Oh, you poor thing,” Shoeshine cooed, joining them. “Such a brave young stallion!”
“Thanks for the help,” the Mare noted.
“Of course!”
“Are you okay, Green Daze?” one of the fillies asked seriously.
Green rubbed his eyes free of tears. “I dunno… My leg still hurts, and I can’t move it.”
“Probably broke,” Shoeshine noted, studying the colt’s limp back leg. Right at that moment, a warning siren began to go off from somewhere in the town. The three fillies clung together at the sound.
“Seems like that dragon’s still around,” the Mare announced, setting Green Daze on her back. “We need to get these children to shelter.”
“Let’s go to my place,” Shoeshine offered, “it’s nearby. Come on, girls.”
They galloped into town, and all noticed the dragon. Somehow in a very short time it had become huge! Probably fully grown.
Clickflash, clickflash!
“Would you put that thing away for five seconds?!”
“And miss my chance to be Equestria’s most famous photojournalist?” Picture Perfect asked with a grin. “Not a chance!”
Shoeshine’s house was a nice two-story place which didn’t quite match her mane in color. It was a nice place, far larger than the mare could afford in Canterlot. But then, space wasn’t at such a premium in Ponyville.
“Now don’t you worry,” Shoeshine told the foals as everyone settled in. “We’ll just wait here until things settle down.”
“But what about Green’s leg?” one of the fillies asked nervously as the Mare set the colt down on a couch.
“We’ll just have to keep him comfortable until the dragon leaves,” Shoeshine answered with a reassuring smile. “Then we’ll take him to the doctor, and he’ll be fixed up right as rain!”
Green looked up at her with big eyes. “But what if the dragon doesn’t leave?”
The Mare and Shoeshine gave one another worried looks, but tried to hide them with quick smiles. “Oh, that won’t happen,” Shoeshine offered with a nervous chuckle. “I’m sure somepony is taking care of this right now!”
Clickflash, clickflash!
The two mares glared at Picture Perfect. She was at the window, camera pressed against the glass.
“If you’re that eager to get a Foallitzer Prize,” the Mare asked with strained pleasantness, “why aren’t you out there trying to get close to the dragon?”
“No need,” Picture Perfect answered, “he’s decided to come in for a close up!” There was a loud creaking, then snapping, and suddenly the second floor of the building was pulled away.
“M-my house!” Shoeshine was almost in tears.
The dragon, big and purple and mean-looking, glared at them before looking down at Picture Perfect. Of course, he’d spotted the flash.
“Everypony out, now!” the Mare cried, grabbing Green and charging for the door. The others didn’t argue. A massive purple claw swept down and just missed Perfect as she led the way out with a cry. The fillies were squealing their poor heads off!
Shoeshine took just a moment to buck a large, purple toe, which elicited little more than an annoyed glance from the dragon. “You beast! I just finished paying the mortgage on this place!”
The dragon let out a fearsome roar that sent her scrambling after the others.
The Mare noted Perfect running along beside her. She’d had just about enough of that one. “If you’re going to keep following me around,” she snapped, “ditch the camera!”
“Never,” the photojournalist countered with a snarl. “This camera is my life!”
“That’s what it’s going to cost you if things keep on like this,” the Mare noted. She looked back and was horrified to see the dragon hot on their tails. By Celestia’s multihued mane, what were they going to do now?!
“This way,” one of the fillies cried, darting through a small opening between two houses. They all followed, getting through just in time to escape a massive claw as the dragon became stuck between the buildings. He roared and tried to pound them with a giant fist, but just couldn’t reach.
The Mare started to flee out the other side, but Shoeshine jumped in her way. “No! Stay here, he can’t get to us in here.”
The Mare glanced back at the dragon and noted the cracks forming in the buildings. “That won’t hold him for long. We have to get these foals out of here!”
Clickflash, clickflash.
The dragon snarled and tried to grab Picture Perfect, but still couldn’t quite reach.
“Would you stop that?” Shoeshine snapped.
“But I need a close up shot!”
“What we need,” the Mare corrected, “is help.”
Just at that moment an orange stallion appeared on the other side of the alley, dressed in yellow and pulling a taxicarriage. “Get in, hurry!”
“Rick Shaw!” one of the fillies cried. “Our hero!”
“Thank you thank you thank you,” the Mare added, helping Shoeshine get the foals into the carriage. The dragon rose up and pounded on the two houses in a single mighty strike that sent pieces of wood and plaster flying.
“Go go go!” Shoeshine shouted as the three mares leapt into the carriage. It wheeled away just as the dragon finished the houses with another destructive smash of its claws. “Geez, he really wants that camera!”
“I’d rather die,” Perfect cried even as she snapped more shots of the dragon, which was climbing over the wreckage in pursuit.
“I’ll save him the trouble,” the Mare snarled.
Rick Shaw was fast, but the dragon was faster. It loomed over them, catching up within a matter of seconds. It swiped a claw, knocking the back of the carriage so that it tilted and swayed wildly. The foals screamed as the vehicle threatened to tip over. Rick was forced to slow down in his struggle to prevent an accident. It was all the dragon needed; he caught the carriage in both claws and lifted it clear off the ground.
Shoeshine held the foals against the back of the carriage protectively, supported by an unsupportive Picture Perfect, who'd fallen against them. The Mare struggled to hold on to the front, Green Daze still on her back. There was screaming, there was fear. She gazed up and saw the dragon bent over, looking her right in the eye.
She had had enough.
“Take Green,” she snapped, shaking Green off. The colt cried out in surprise and landed among the other ponies. Freed, the Mare climbed up onto the front of the carriage. “I don’t care if you want a camera or the entire carriage: you will leave these foals alone!” And with that she spun about and bucked the dragon in the eye. Hard.
The beast let out a surprised, pained shout and flung the carriage away. The Mare closed her eyes and prayed that she’d not made a terrible mistake. She could feel herself flying, and quickly lost track of her orientation. Right-side up? Upside-down? All she knew was that she was flying, and the landing wouldn’t be pleasant.
She hit the ground, hard. Her body rolled and twisted, and finally she ended up face down in the grass. Her entire body ached and the world swam in circles. Yet only one thought was on her mind: what had happened to the foals? To Shoeshine and Rick Shaw? Even Picture Perfect?
The world finally began to return to a sense of normalcy, and she slowly forced herself up onto four legs. A couple wobbly steps to get her bearings, and at last she was able to lift her head and look around. The carriage, where was the carriage?
She didn’t see it. However, she did see a massive hole in the roof of a nearby schoolhouse. The sight of a carriage wheel hanging haphazardly from the bell tower would have been enough to tell her what happened, but seeing Rick Shaw clinging to the top of the flagpole sealed the deal.
She took a moment to check for the dragon; she could see it over the rooftops of the town, actively stealing things. Clearly it has lost all interest in them, thank goodness.
She entered the schoolhouse, calling out for the fillies. She found Picture Perfect stuck head-down in a student’s desk far too small for her. The Mare ignored the photojournalist; she could get herself out. A quick look around revealed Shoeshine on her back behind the teacher’s desk, still woozy from the impact.
The Mare helped her sit in the vacant teacher’s desk. “Are you okay?”
“No, n-no I am not,” Shoeshine cried, or would have cried if she were able. Instead, it came out hoarse, the air having been knocked out of her. “My house is gone… My garden is probably trampled to powder… And…and now…now I’m getting thrown around by dragons. None of this is fine!” The poor thing was on the verge of tears.
The Mare felt sorry for her, but there was a more pressing issue at hand. “The foals. Where are the foals?”
“In the carriage,” Shoeshine muttered.
She looked around the schoolroom. “But where’s the carriage?”
Shoeshine pointed a hoof up, face grim. The Mare followed the motion and gasped; the wrecked carriage was hanging from the rafters, dangling dangerously over their heads.
She ran to the center of the room and reared back. “Fillies! Green Daze, are you there?”
One of the fillies poked her head over the side, rubbing her head with a hoof and groaning. “Oooh… We’re all here…”
“Is everypony okay?” she asked, “Tell me everypony’s okay!”
“Y-yeah, I think so,” the filly answered, shaking her head as if to clear it. “They make the cushions on these things pretty soft.”
Thank Celestia! “Stay right there, sweetie! Don’t move, and we’ll have you down in a moment. Whatever you do, don’t rock the carriage!” They survived a train wreck, a dragon attack, and crashing into a schoolhouse in a flying carriage. Now would be the appropriate time for their luck to run out. With this in mind, the Mare thought frantically for a solution.
She cast a glance at Shoeshine. The pony was leaning against the teacher’s desk and rubbing her shoulder as if it were hurting. She looked absolutely miserable. Perhaps it would be better… The Mare turned to see Picture Perfect still struggling to free herself from the desk.
Against her better judgment, she ran to the photojournalist and grabbed the chair of the desk. “Hold still and pull!” They struggled for several seconds, Perfect grunting from obvious pain. At last the desk came loose, the two ponies crashing to the floor loudly.
“Oh, thank you Darling,” Perfect said, still on her back and looking frazzled. “How unseemly. Glad nopony got a picture of that!”
“Now come on,” the Mare instructed, jumping to her hooves. “Help me with the foals.”
“What, help?” Perfect sat up and gave her a look as if she were daft. “I’m a photojournalist. I don’t help.”
The Mare stared in amazement. “What do you mean, you don’t help? What happened to all that talk about honor? Bringing perpetrators to justice and so on?”
“My photos do that,” Picture Perfect replied, displaying her camera. “A journalist never interferes! We only document, and bring out the truth. You want help, call the cops.”
The Mare abruptly thought of her ancestor. She stuttered, sputtered, snarled, shook in fury! Screw civility: she snatched the camera from the photojournalist with her teeth and threw it on the ground. She reared back and stamped so hard it shattered.
“Nooooo!” Picture Perfect fell to her knees and gaped at the pieces of her precious camera. “My baby! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?!”
The mare got in her teary face, so furious she thought she might explode. “If you don’t get your self-righteous rump out of my sight within the next five seconds, I am going to shove what’s left of that camera up your rear and buck you so hard you’ll land in Saddle Arabia!”
The photojournalist didn’t wait around to see if she’d keep her word.
The Mare stood, huffing and puffing. She struggled to regain her composure. Her unkempt, dark-grey mane had fallen in front of her face. She stared, focusing on the individual hairs. Just so she’d have something to focus on.
She remembered it swaying on the train, and rocked a little. Her mane wave back and forth. A conductor’s baton. Her baton.
She hummed Hooftoskie’s Sonnet Naturale, her soft soprano voice coming out harsh, but slowly softening. Soothing out. Calming. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, indulging in the thought that she might conduct that tune, some day.
A loud creak broke through the reverie, then something snapped. The fillies cried out in fear.
The Mare turned about, confident and calm once more. She ran to Shoeshine, who still seemed a bit out of it. “Help me with the foals.”
Shoeshine stared at her blankly, then looked up at the carriage. “I… I don’t know if I…”
“You helped us get this far,” the Mare declared. “Come on, we can do this together. Trust me.”
The pony stared at her, then looked up at the carriage. Her expression slowly went from pitiable to serious. At last she looked the Mare in the eye. “What did you have in mind?”
They worked together to shove the desk into the middle of the room, pushing aside student desks as they did. Shoeshine climbed on top, and the Mare onto her.
“Ready?” Shoeshine asked, and the Mare nodded. “Alright, hold on…” She struggled to pick herself up, and it took a couple tries. Finally she pulled it off, rearing back onto her unsteady hind legs. The Mare wavered, but somehow managed to stay on Shoeshine’s shoulders. With some effort, she was able to stand and set her front hooves against the side of the carriage. It creaked and shifted, but held.
“Fillies!” The three girls peered over the side of the carriage. “Quickly, I want you to climb down me and Shoeshine.”
“But what about Green?”
“You let me worry about him,” The Mare instructed. “Come on, down you go.” It was slow going, and more than once the two mares nearly lost their balance, but somehow they managed to stay standing long enough for the fillies to get down.
Once sure they were clear, the Mare glanced down at Shoeshine. “Get ready, I’m going to climb up.”
Shoeshine looked up at her with wide eyes. “You’re going to what?! But how will you—” But the Mare didn’t wait; she jumped and managed to barely get her front legs over the side of the carriage. Her kick had unbalanced Shoeshine, who fell to the floor with a thud.
Another cracking sound. The Mare struggled to get into the carriage, which was rocking wildly from something having come loose. She got her head over the side and spotted Green Daze, watching from the corner of the carriage with tears in his eyes. At last she managed to get in, landing heavily on the bottom of the vehicle. Another splintering crack, and the carriage rocked violently.
“It’s going to fall!” Shoeshine cried.
The Mare wasted no time; she snatched up the colt and raised him over the side of the carriage. “Catch him!”
Shoeshine reared back, and Green Daze dropped into her waiting legs. A pop, a grinding sound, and the carriage came down. The Mare had a brief, slow look at Shoeshine’s horrified face, and then black.
When she came to she was in a hospital bed, the dying light of the sun turning the white room red. She moaned and tried to sit up, but stars flew across her vision and her head practically screamed in agony, so she let herself drop back down.
“Ah, just in time,” a pleasant voice noted. She glanced aside and saw a unicorn doctor standing beside her bed, clipboard floating just before his face. “Glad to see you’re awake! I’m Doctor Stable.”
She would have nodded, but any head motion at all sent shockwaves through her cranium. “You’re smiling. Guess that means I’ll live.”
“Indeed it does,” he answered with a smile. “I just needed to run a few quick tests, make sure everything’s okay. But I can already tell you that you’re lucky. Not many ponies survive having a schoolhouse fall on their heads!”
“Or a train crash, or a dragon attack,” she muttered.
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that the dragon problem has been settled,” he declared, checking her pulse and jotting information on his clipboard. “How do you feel?”
“Like a schoolhouse fell on my head.”
“Any trouble moving? No blurred vision?”
She took a moment to experiment with her legs and shift around. “Head hurts. Other than that, no.”
“A major headache’s to be expected. You took a nasty whack,” he admitted. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. You should stay overnight just to be safe, but I imagine you’ll be good to go by morning.”
A fearful thought came to mind. “There were foals with me, and a mare. Are they okay?”
“Oh, that reminds me,” he answered, going to the door, “you have visitors.” He opened the door to reveal the fillies and Shoeshine waiting outside. The fillies let out a cheer and ran into the room.
“You’re okay!”
“I knew she would be.”
“Yeah right, you were crying like a baby!”
“Was not!”
“We’re so happy you’re not dead!”
“And whole.”
“You are whole, right?”
She couldn’t help beaming. She’d done it: the children were safe.
Shoeshine came up behind them, laughing. “Come on, girls, give her room to breathe.” She smiled at the Mare. “Glad to see you’re not dead.”
“Likewise.”
“And somepony else is very happy to see you,” Shoeshine added, stepping aside. Behind her was Green Daze, sitting in a wheelchair with his leg in a cast. He was grinning from ear to ear as he rolled forward, the fillies moving out of his way.
The Mare gave Green a warm smile, eyeing his leg. “Well, little stallion, things didn’t turn out so bad, did they?”
And then, to her surprise, he leaned forward and gave her a hug. She blinked, blushed, and returned the gesture awkwardly. “Thank you so much,” he whispered into her ear.
Then he pulled back, eyes big. “You. Bucked. A dragon. You bucked a dragon in the face. That was awesome! Forget Rainbow Dash, you’re my hero from now on.”
She laughed. It hurt, but she didn’t mind. “I’m no hero, Green.”
“Yes, you are!” one of the fillies cried, the other two nodding in agreement.
She eyed Shoeshine for help, but the mare only beamed and shrugged. “You were pretty awesome.”
“Thanks,” she replied with a roll of her eyes and a grin.
Green Daze engulfed her neck in another tight hug. “You’re my hero, like it or not! I’m going to tell everypony how I was rescued by the awesome… Umm…er… The awesome…?”
She giggled and pushed him back into his wheelchair.
“Octavia. My name’s Octavia.”
Spike was having a rough time of it. Lots of ponies were upset with him. He had it coming, of course, so he didn’t blame anypony. He had his work cut out for him, too; he’d been forced to agree to fix lots of damage. It was late in the evening and he was getting tired, but he’d promised Twilight that he would at least clean up the mess he’d made in the library before going to bed tonight. She’d tried to convince him not to be so gung-ho on that promise, but he was at it anyway, long after she’d gone to bed.
But he was almost done. Tomorrow he’d have to go to Rarity’s and help fix the hole in her wall, and then he’d have to help Fluttershy with getting a new chicken coop. The list went on and on. He really screwed up this time.
He lifted up the last garbage bag of debris from the library floor and took another moment to eye the hole in the wall he’d created. Had he really gotten so big? And that hole was nothing compared to what he had become. It boggled the mind. Doc Murrow was going to have a field day analyzing him after this, which was not something to look forward to.
The dragon, glad to be little again, rubbed his eyes sleepily and walked outside, depositing the trash bag next to the dozens of others. When the trash crew came later that week he’d have to help get rid of it all, but at least it was all out of the library. He sighed and yawned, glad that this terrible ordeal was all over.
Or so he thought.
A shadow crept over him, though he didn’t notice it. He turned to go back inside, and smacked right into something hard. He fell on his back with a yelp, rubbing his nose tenderly, then looked up to see what he’d hit.
Standing tall over him was Fine Crime, expression grim.
“You!” Spike was on his feet and alert in an instant. “What are you doing here? Come to steal something from the library, huh? Well I won’t let you! You… You…” His words died; Fine’s expression, dark and threatening, didn’t budge.
Suddenly, he was a very scary pony.
“Uuhhh, so…why are you here?”
The unicorn didn’t answer for a while, and each passing second made Spike feel more and more nervous. At last Fine answered, his voice firm. “Tell me, Spike, do you remember being up on the mountain with Rarity?”
Spike blinked. He hadn’t expected the pony to be so direct. “I remember everything.”
“So you remember the moment you returned to your normal size?”
“Umm, yeah.”
Fine raised an eyebrow. “Do you know where I was right at that moment?”
Spike shook his head.
The unicorn lowered his head to glare daggers into his eyes. “I was on the ledge above, preparing to crack loose a boulder the size of a house that would have rolled down and dropped onto your head.”
The little dragon gulped. “A h-house?”
“A house.” Fine raised his head once more. “Even for a fully grown dragon, that’s a lot of rock. Five more seconds was all I needed.”
Spike squeezed his tail for comfort. “B-but, something like that might’ve… might’ve…”
“Killed you?” The unicorn’s voice was cold as ice. “That was the idea.”
For a tender moment, Spike felt a tremble of terror run down his spine…and then he remembered who he was talking to. “Waitaminute, how am I supposed to believe this?” he asked. “You’re a thief. You really expect me to think that you were going to do something like that? I’m Twilight Sparkle’s personal assistant! Something happens to me and she won’t take it lightly.”
“Maybe not,” Fine Crime agreed, “but she won’t do anything if the hit was sanctioned by her precious Celestia.”
That made Spike stare. “W-what do you mean?”
The stallion snarled. “I have made a career out of dealing with threats to Equestria, domestic and foreign. You, Spike, qualify as domestic. A baby dragon helping out is one thing, but to go rampaging through a town? Property damage. Businesses shut down. A major transit line out of action. It’s a miracle nopony was killed! Celestia didn’t give the order, I acted on my own. But if I’d had time to carry out the execution, she would have sanctioned it.”
Spike pulled up a piece of lost courage, stomping his foot and pointing. “I don’t believe you!”
“No?”
“No!”
Fine leaned forward, eyes piercing. “Then send her a letter. Ask her yourself.”
The firmness of his tone and certainty of his expression made the dragon hesitate. If this was a bluff, it was a good one. “M-maybe I will…”
Fine took a step back, regarding the little dragon with judgmental eyes. At last he turned away and began to walk off. “Five seconds is all that separated you from life and death. Remember that, dragon, the next time you consider letting your greed grow out of control.”
Seeing him walk away made Spike a lot more confident. “You think you’re so tough? I havn’t forgotten what you did in Canterlot! You’re no dragonslayer.”
Fine paused and sighed. “I thought you might say that.” His horn glowed, and something appeared from a pack at his flank. The object flew through the air. Spike caught it in both claws and studied it. It was long, white and curved. And very sharp.
“What’s this?”
“A tooth from the mouth of Reddux the Tyrant. A souvenir.”
Spike dropped it as if it were poisonous.
“Goodnight, Spike. We’ll meet again.” Black clouds formed around the unicorn. “Hopefully under different circumstances.” He was gone.
But the tooth remained.
Spike reached down and held it. Reddux the Tyrant, whom Princess Celestia herself had fought to a standstill. But somepony had defeated him. Everypony knew that, but nopony knew who had done the deed.
It might be a ploy. Fine could have stolen the tooth from a collection. This might not belong to Reddux. It might not even be real. Maybe he should write a letter to the Princess.
But when he felt the tip of the tooth with his thumb, it cut a jagged line through even his tough scales. that cold fear crept down his spine once more.
He wasn’t going to get much sleep.
Nightmares. Nightmares, nightmares, nightmares. All night long, nothing but nightmares. And all of them about dragons.
The sun’s rays were just beginning to brighten the horizon, and Princess Luna was exhausted. She’d not had such a hard night of nightmare patrols since…well, she could safely say that this had been the worst night since her return from exile. Her sister had warned her of this, though; a dragon rampaging through a major town has that effect on ponies.
She’d turned over royal duties to Celestia. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.
She was just approaching her chambers, nodding formally to the guards, when she noticed him approaching: Fine Crime. And judging by his manner, he was here on business. It was all she could do not to let out an unstately groan.
The two met before the door to her room, pausing a few feet apart. She eyed him sleepily and saw that he looked rather worn out, himself. They stared at one another for several seconds, as if neither was willing to talk to the other.
It was finally he who broke the silence, tilting his head and saying wearily, “I have some news for you.”
She frowned and shook her head. “Thou mayest relay any information to mine sister. We are in no mood for—”
“I cannot,” he interrupted, his quiet rudeness causing the guards to shift uncomfortably. “The news relates to our special project.”
That had her attention. She studied him for a few moments, wondering if she shouldn’t have it wait until nightfall. But he did seem awfully tired, too.
As if her thoughts were readily visible on her face, he added, “My apologies for arriving at this time of the day, but I had to get here from Ponyville and, as you can imagine, the trains weren’t exactly functioning last night.”
Well, that did explain things.
“Let us make this quick,” she muttered at last, turning and entering her private rooms.
“So,” Luna went on after the door had closed behind them, “what news dost thou wish to relay?” As an afterthought, “Tea?”
“No thanks,” he replied wearily, “I prefer hot cocoa before bed. I’ll have some in my own quarters later.”
“As you wish.” She went into her private kitchen, him following a respectable distance behind.
He sat at the ornate table as she prepared herself some tea. “I thought you should know that I’ve found candidate number four.”
Luna raised her head, brushing her mane aside in mild annoyance. “Four? Whatever occurred to thy third candidate?”
Fine leaned forward, his front legs on the table and his chin atop them, and closed his eyes. “Jury’s still out on number three. I’m waiting for him to respond to something. If he doesn’t soon, I’ll be forced to scratch him out and find somepony else.”
She watched the steam come out of her tea kettle, thinking on this news. “So thou advanced to four.”
“Had to be done.”
Luna gave him a studious look. “Might I ask what convoluted test thou hast arranged for yonder fourth candidate?”
“I didn’t have to arrange one, this time,” he answered with a smile. “Thank Lu…well, thank you, it made my job much easier. The entire day and night was a pain in the neck, though.”
The kettle began to whistle; she poured a cup.
“That smells absolutely wonderful.”
“Moonflower and cinnamon,” she explained, going to the table and setting the teacup down. She took a pleasant moment to breathe in the warm, spicy aroma. “A true delight after a difficult night.”
Fine frowned. “I’m sure you had a lot of dragon nightmares to contend with.”
“Yes,” she whispered, looking at him clearly for the first time that night. “Thou wert there.”
“In Ponyville?” Fine sat up and nodded. “I was.”
Luna raised an eyebrow. “Our sister spoke of thy…‘dragon record,’ as thou said it. Didst thou…?”
He shook his head. “Reddux was a fluke; I hadn’t intended that. Nor did I deal with the dragon problem in Ponyville, although I seriously considered trying. I did speak to the dragon afterwards, though, and put the fear of death into him. As a precaution.”
“Doth thou always play such dangerous games?”
“I’m very good at them,” he replied with a weak smile, “but no. Deception is just one tool a pony in my line of work must have, albeit a very powerful one.”
She sipped her tea, taking in its deliciousness even as she questioned his words in her head. But she’d promised not to do so out loud, and she didn’t. “Let us speak of candidate number four.”
“You’ll like her,” he announced with sleepy certainty. “Brave, focused, confident, cultured, puts others first. Almost got herself killed trying to protect a bunch of foals she’d never met before during the dragon attack. Tough, too: she survived a train wreck, bucked the dragon in the face, got tossed like a doll half-across the town, and had a schoolhouse fall on top of her. Came out with just a severe migraine.” He considered this for a moment. “Well, tough or lucky. Take your pick.”
Luna was actually impressed. “Thou makest her seem over-qualified. We hope the negatives are not so severe as to match the positives.”
“They aren’t,” he confirmed. “She has her problems, like all the ponies on the list. Like all ponies in Equestria, actually.” He leaned his cheek onto his hoof. “But her positives far outweigh her negatives, more so than any other pony to graduate beyond the initial investigations. I think she’d make an invaluable addition.”
Luna took another slow sip of tea, for once feeling good about his recommendation. “When should we anticipate a full report on her?”
“Sometime this evening. I’m beat, and clearly so are you. It can wait.”
There was a long, comfortable silence between them. Luna wondered if he was about to take his leave, but something about his calm, relaxed manner told her that he wasn’t about to go just yet. She considered sending him away but – and this sounded strange in her head – she found his company very welcome this morning.
At last he broke the silence. “Princess?”
She blinked, caught off guard. ‘Princess?’ Not ‘Luna?’ “Yes?”
He was still hunched over the table, cheek still resting in his hoof. His other hoof traced slow circles on the table. His eyes were downcast. “This whole conversation has been very informal. So let me take this opportunity to speak to you informally. When I learned that the Archons were going to be shifted to your control a year and a half ago, I was thrilled.”
She was surprised, though too sleepy to express it properly. She stared over her steaming cup with droopy eyes. “Really? Why?”
“Your sister was never comfortable with our line of work,” he admitted. “She did what was necessary, and I’m glad for it, but it simply didn’t suit her, y’know?”
Indeed she did.
“I read the ancient documents,” he continued, eyes still down. “You know, the ones only the most powerful ponies are meant to touch? I knew you had lead our work back before your exile. The Archons hadn’t been founded back then, but you were still the one in charge of our line of work.” He looked up and smiled. “Everything I read told me that you were perfect for that role. Before your return, I used to wish you’d be brought back just to take us off Celestia’s hooves.”
She didn’t know if this was praise or not. She took another sip of tea to hide her uncertainty. “What art thou saying, Sir Fine Crime?”
“Just…that I’m glad you’re back.” He sat up at last. “I feel I should apologize. I’ve been saying ‘Luna this’ and ‘Luna that’ all this time, never saying ‘Princess.’ I realize you see it as a sign of disrespect. I never meant for it to be seen that way. I just… I worked with your sister for a while. I became familiar with her, friendly, as a means of helping her deal with the discomfort of my…disability. I never say ‘Princess’ to her, either, as a sign of this familiarity. I had hoped that you and I could be the same way, but I guess that plan backfired.”
He lowered his head again. He didn’t seem sad. Regretful, but not sad. “I didn’t mean to offend. If you wish it, I’ll be more formal from here on.”
Luna had listened intently, carefully. She felt that she was seeing him for the first time. She set her teacup down and smiled. “I suppose we… What is the modern phrase? Started off on the wrong hoof.”
He smiled. “Most certainly.”
“I am glad you spoke of this,” she continued. “I admit, I misunderstood your intentions, and for that perhaps I should apologize as well. Please, maintain your familiar tone. Now that I understand it, I will not take offense.”
He nodded in a slow, accepting manner, his expression light. “Thank you, Luna.”
“Calm down? Calm down?! This is a travesty, a damn travesty! I won’t accept it, do you hear me?”
“Stikin, he’s just a colt. He can’t just choose where his destiny lies."
“There is no excuse! I won’t stand by and let the Stone Family have a black stain on its legacy.”
“But he’s done nothing wrong!”
“Nothing wrong?! Are we seeing the same thing? Because I see a disgrace to my great grandfather!”
Every word that echoed from the wall stung like a knife in the heart. Jimmy felt like crying, and they weren’t even talking about him. He kept his younger twin tucked under a protective wing. Nye could only bury his head under the covers to hide his tears. The poor colt was shaking like a leaf, and Jimmy didn’t blame him.
“He’s your son, Stikin. Our flesh and blood! You can’t condemn him so quickly. Give him a chance, let him try!”
“He’s no son of mine!”
Nye flinched, his hooves struggling to cover his ears with the covers. Jimmy nuzzled the back of his neck for comfort, knowing it wouldn’t help much.
“I knew you could be harsh, but this is barbaric! For the love of Celestia, Stikin, be reasonable.”
“There is no reasoning with this. How do you reason with this?”
“So help me, Stikin Stone, if you condemn our boy just because of a cutie mark I will leave this house and take both our sons with me!”
“What?! You would destroy a generations-old family legacy for that, that…?”
Jimmy lowered his head to whisper words he hoped were true. “He doesn’t mean it, Nye. You know he doesn’t mean it.”
Nye only sobbed.
“I mean it, Stikin. You need to decide right now what’s more important to you: your precious legacy, or this family!”
“Sweet Dream…”
Silence. Horrible, agonizing silence, broken only by the muffled sobs of a colt in despair. Jimmy listened intently for any hint of what might be passing between their parents, but there was nothing. All he could do was keep his brother under his wing and let time drag on for what seemed like an eternity.
And then, at last, the door opened.
Jimmy nudged his brother, and they both sat up straight in preparation. Nye was barely able to control his sniffling, his blonde mane a tangled mess over his wet face. Jimmy eyed him, feeling a chaotic mix of misery and sympathy, and hoped his words had been accurate.
Stikin Stone stood in the door. Tall, white with a silver mane, impeccably dressed in his brown business suit. Green eyes as hard as granite. He stood there, silent, gaze locked on his twin sons for some time. Jimmy knew his fear couldn’t possible match his brother’s.
Stikin closed his eyes with a heavy, careful sigh, then entered the room. His cutie mark came into view: a building under construction. “Jimmy. …Nye.” Jimmy winced at the hesitancy of the second name. “We’ll make this work.”
He was followed by Sweet Dream. She was a pegasus, short with an orange coat and blonde mane. Though a beauty, her pristine face was marred by a barely-contained scowl aimed at her husband. Yet when she looked upon her sons she managed a smile as only a mother could.
She approached the bed and studied Nye for a moment, wiping his face with a tender hoof. Jimmy caught sight of her cutie mark: a four-layered chocolate cake. “My boys. Everything will be fine. Your father and I love you, and we only want the best for the both of you.”
Jimmy turned to his father, who maintained that stately, unpleasant air. “Indeed,” the big stallion said, his voice strained. “We won’t let this be a problem. I’m…sorry boys, I let my emotions run wild for a moment.”
Jimmy wanted to believe him. He really did. He tried to believe him.
Sweet Dream nuzzled Jimmy affectionately, and he returned the motion happily. Stikin approached and set a hoof on his shoulder, which was perhaps one of the most affectionate things he’d done in years. The pegasus colt gazed up into his father’s eyes and saw focus, determination…and hope. A message was being sent, and he read it loud and clear. He instinctively rubbed his flank, where his own cutie mark of three wrenches sat.
Their mother embraced Nye. “My boy finally earned his cutie mark,” she whispered. “I couldn’t be more proud!”
Jimmy glanced at their father and saw the stallion’s face harden. He knew what he was looking at; he could see it too. He gazed down at his brother’s flank.
There rested a high heel and some tacks.
“Your grades are unacceptable, Nye,” Stikin announced with his ever-solemn air.
Boarding school, in the twins’ dormitory suite. They stood like soldiers before their parents, well prepared for what was coming.
“We know you’re trying your best, sweetie,” Sweet Dream added, her smile warm.
Stikin scowled. Jimmy knew that expression. His father acquired it whenever he was trying to hold himself back. He only had that look when their mother was around.
“I want an explanation,” Stikin continued after a few tense seconds.
Jimmy didn’t glance at his brother. He didn’t need to look to see that Nye was struggling for some acceptable excuse. Of course, he had one already, but their father would have never acknowledged it. He wouldn’t try to offer support, not at such a dangerous moment. Nye knew he was there for him.
At last his twin spoke. “I have no explanation.”
“I see.” Stikin’s eyelids lowered dangerously, but he cast a brooding glance towards his unnoticing wife and held his temper. His attention jerked to Jimmy. “You, on the other hand, have excellent grades. You’re working hard, son. Know that we appreciate it.”
“We’re very proud,” their mother corrected. “Of both of you.”
“Yes,” Stikin agreed with a curt nod. “Proud.” He looked at each of the brothers with a hawkish gaze. “But these grades are a problem. Jimmy, you’re the responsible one. I’m expecting you to keep your brother in line.”
Sweet Dream barely avoided scowling at his tone. “A good example, Jimmy. That’s all we’re asking, and you’re setting a very good example, indeed.”
The tension made the air seem almost liquid in its intensity. Jimmy took a moment to clear his throat and consider his response. Carefully, carefully. “I will set an example, mother. Do not worry; Nye is improving. He just needs time.”
Their father snorted. “How much time do you think you have left? You both graduate in two years.”
Jimmy glanced at his brother, whose barely-controlled anger was obvious. “I’ll keep a closer eye on him. You have my word.”
Stikin took a long, steadying breath, and his gaze loosened. Just a chip in the armor. “Well son, I have faith in your word.” He took out a pocketwatch. “We need to leave soon, before the train arrives. I will be watching you both. I have high expectations for the next quarter.”
The stallion turned to leave. As he did their mother approached and wrapped them both in a comforting hug. “He’s just worried,” she whispered in her kind voice. “Don’t worry, boys; he means well.”
And with that they were gone, and the two young stallions relaxed.
“‘Means well,’” Nye snarled. “Like hell he does.”
“He just wants you to succeed,” Jimmy noted in a confident tone, turning and going to his desk in the corner.
“My grades are fine,” his twin snapped. “Not perfect, but I’m doing good for a pony with no talent.”
“You have talent,” Jimmy corrected.
“In shoes! In case you can’t read the sign on top of the main building, this is an engineering school.” Nye stomped over to his bed and flopped onto his back. “I’m not even supposed to be here.”
Jimmy wanted to get back to his building design, but reminded himself of his promise. “Pops is a hard guy, but Mom’s right. He’s only trying to look out—”
“—for our best interest,” Nye finished for him, face twisting into a sour expression. “If he cared so much, he’d spend some time with us! I mean really, come to the school for two hours just to check our grades and give us a lecture? They could have stayed for supper at least. Damn train won’t leave for another hour! He just wanted to get the hell away from me.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Jimmy demanded with a glare. “He’s our father, for Celestia’s sake!”
Nye said nothing else, only scowled at the ceiling with wet eyes. Jimmy watched him for several seconds to see if he’d add anything to the conversation. He didn’t, so the elder Stone went back to his class project.
Several minutes passed, minutes punctuated by the soft scratching of quill to paper. Jimmy tried to absorb himself in his work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his brother. Without looking up, he finally broke the silence. “You should be studying, or working on your new project.”
“What’s the point?” Nye grumbled from the bed.
“You need to keep your grades up.”
Nye sniffed in a derogatory fashion. “Keep them up. Right.” Jimmy could hear him shifting in the bed. “Why bother? I struggled to get this far, and the old man thinks I’m unacceptable.”
“So you’re just going to quit?”
“If the work’s not rewarding, why do it?”
Jimmy found that answer…startling. He turned to give his brother a perplexed look from over his work glasses. “What about your responsibilities?”
Nye was lying with his back to him. “Responsibilities? To who, him? I’m done with him.”
Jimmy sighed. “You don’t mean that.”
“No?” Nye sat up and sneered at him. “You remember when you first learned to fly? I do. I remember watching you soaring with mother and wishing I’d been the one born with wings. That way I could have flown away from that house and never come back!”
Jimmy dropped from his stool and walked over to his brother. “Seriously? You were jealous of my wings?”
“Green with envy,” Nye admitted, head lowered and eyes dark. “I wanted to run away so badly. I used to dream about it.”
The elder twin didn’t like this at all, but he had to ask. “If you really felt that way, why didn’t you?”
Nye gave him a dirty look that slowly shifted to an expression of misery. He dropped down onto his belly, his blonde mane flopping over his eyes. “Because I knew it would break mother’s heart. She’s the only reason I’m still here, Jim.”
That stung. “What about me?”
Nye’s eyes drifted up to him from beneath his curls. “You’ve stood by me bro, and I always appreciated it. But you’re father’s ‘diamond in the rough.’ You’ll inherit his legacy; we all know it, and I know you want it. You belong in the Stone family…unlike me.”
Jimmy gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, right. You check my cutie mark, lately? I’m a mechanical engineer, Nye. That’s not a builder.”
“It’s close enough to be valid in his eyes,” Nye answered. “And you’ve been studying civil and structural, not mechanical. You’re trying to be his heir.”
Jimmy couldn’t deny that. Nye was right; he wanted to be part of the family legacy, to be as great as their father. But not like him in every way. “Father needs somepony to carry on the family business,” he answered, a sad frown on his lips. “He needs this, bro. He works so hard, and this is his dream.”
Nye sat up again, his expression grim. “You think he cares about us, don’t you?”
“Of course he does.”
The younger twin jumped down from the bed and headed for the door. “For your sake, I hope you never realize how wrong you are.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find some place to cool off.”
Jimmy considered stopping him, but instead he let the door close. His brother needed time, that was all.
Just a little time.
“You can’t leave!”
Nye’s room, years later.
“Sure I can. Just watch me!”
Jimmy blocked his brother’s path to the door. “You told me you’d give it time. It’s only been a week!”
“A week is all it took.” Nye tried to move around, but Jimmy opened his wings to take up more space. “Get out of my way.”
Jimmy set his hooves on his twin’s shoulders. “Look, you’re hurting. We all are. But running away won’t solve anything.”
“Oh, yes it will,” Nye countered, knocking his brother’s hooves away. “It’ll get me out from under his shadow. That, Jim, is the Holy Horseshoe of my life!”
“And where will you go? What will you do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. As long as I’m not here!”
Nye tried to use force, shoving up against his twin, but he was never the stronger pony. Jimmy shoved back and kept him in place. “Mother worked so hard to keep us together, as a family. Think about what she—”
“Mother is dead!”
For a single piercing moment, there was silence as the twins reeled from having said it out loud for the first time. It didn’t last.
“She’s gone, Jim.” Nye was crying, but his face was hard. “I told you before, she was the only thing keeping me here. But she’s gone, and so am I.”
Jimmy forced back tears as his brother began to walk past him. “What about Pops? He’s hurting too, you know.”
Nye turned on him. “Oh, listen to you. Daddy’s little colt, always aiming to please! So determined to be a legend like the old stallion. You can have his legacy, and him! Why should I care? Why should he care? He wants me gone!”
Jimmy couldn’t take anymore of his brother’s self-pity. He’d listened to it all his life. “You want to go? Then go! If you don’t want to be part of this family then you should just leave. Go on, damn Ma’s memory and get out!”
“That’s enough.”
The two stallions froze, bodies heaving from anger and frustration. But they kept quiet. They turned in unison to see Stikin Stone standing before them, his granite appearance as impeccable as always. His icy gaze was locked with Nye’s.
But for once Nye wasn’t intimidated. He stepped forward with determination. “I’m leaving.”
Stikin studied him coolly for some time, like a judge regarding a convicted felon. Finally, he reached into a pocket and tossed something small in the air. It fluttered and dropped to the floor before Nye’s hooves. The brothers eyed it seriously.
“What’s this?” Nye asked.
“A bank card.”
“I can see it’s a bank card,” he snapped at his father. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Stikin kept his head high and his voice steady. “When the two of you were born, your mother and I started a fund for each of you. A financial safety precaution to keep the two of you safe if anything terrible were to happen. A lot of bits have accumulated in them over the years. That card accesses your account. Take it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You’re going to take it anyway,” Stikin ordered without emotion.
But Nye took a step back from the card. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want anything to do with this family anymore!”
Jimmy gave his brother a sour look. “Pops is trying to help you out, Jimmy. Take the card.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
“I’ll give you two,” their father declared. “First, remember that your mother loved you, boy. I don’t understand why, but she did. Take it from a stallion who loved her dearly; she would have wanted you to have it. If I don’t give it to you I know she’ll haunt me, and not in a pleasant manner. So consider it a mother’s blessing, because it certainly isn’t mine.
“Second, after tonight I intend to wipe your stain from the Stone legacy. All pictures, all notes, all records. If you don’t take that bank account I’ll wipe it away, because I don’t want it.”
Jimmy stared at his father, unable to believe his ears. Surely he didn’t mean that…
But Nye’s expression was hard. He believed it, that much was clear. “Keep the legacy pure.”
“That’s the idea.” Stikin gestured to the card. “Take it. Take it and get out of my house.”
The two glared daggers at one another for several long seconds. Jimmy felt as if he should say something, but the words wouldn’t form. All he could do was watch and know that at this moment his family was broken. Perhaps irreparably.
After what seemed like ages, Nye bent down and took the card. He cast a dark glance at Jimmy, a final silent farewell, and stalked out of the room. And just like that, Jimmy’s brother was gone.
After all that had been said – the anger and frustration – all Jimmy wanted to do was cry.
But his father was there, so he held in his tears and kept his face balanced. No sadness, no emotion at all must be revealed.
Stikin heaved a deep sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He walked to Jimmy, set a hoof to his shoulder and, for what may have been the first time in Jimmy’s life, smiled.
“Don’t worry, my son. The Stone legacy will live on through you.”
The door creaked open, as if it objected to the motion. Jimmy stared into the dark room, a strange wave of emotion coming over him. What had told him to do this? He couldn’t tell. Nostalgia, perhaps. He entered hesitantly, felt around for the switch. The fluorescent lights blinked, sputtered and slowly emitted their glow.
Nye’s room. The bed still unmade, books and tools spread all about. A thick coating of dust emphasized the passage of time. He looked around quietly, observing the signs of his brother’s former presence. The maids hadn’t touched this place since that day. Father’s orders.
He walked to the low mirror by the bed, the one Nye had bought to help with his shoe hobby. Hobby. It sounded almost insulting, to call somepony’s special talent a mere ‘hobby.’ He bent down and used his elbow to wipe away the dust from the reflective surface, and for a moment he thought he saw his father. It was just his reflection, of course; he’d grown to look so much like the stallion in the past year. So much so that he’d gone and added purple streaks in his silver hair, just to differentiate himself.
Staring at his own face in that mirror, his father’s face, Jimmy felt a little ill.
He rose up and looked around some more. There on the desk were blueprints, drafts of a building’s steel skeleton. It was a common design, not anything special; Equestria was full of nearly identical buildings. The math was off, too. The lower supports were too small and the upper supports of all the wrong materials. But for Nye, this was a good design. He might have been known for his laziness, but this proved how hard he’d tried.
Jimmy started to turn away, but paused when he noticed how the blueprints were raised up at one corner. Curious, he pulled the papers aside.
It was a piece of wood. No, two pieces, shaped like two halves of a hoof with a screw connected through them both. Curious, Jimmy picked it up and saw that it had been sitting on a flat rubber…something.
Ah, it must be a tool for designing a shoe. He eyed the screw, tried turning it; the two pieces gently moved apart as he did. So it was for designing shoes of different hoof sizes?
He lifted up the rubber and found a smaller blueprint, a diagram of a shoe with some nails inside. Some sort of new invention, perhaps?
It struck Jimmy as so horribly sad. His poor brother had still been working on his special talent, in spite of everything. Being forced to do what you wanted in secrecy like this just seemed so…wrong.
“Been a while since anypony came in here.”
Jimmy jumped up and dropped the tool and rubber. He turned to find his father standing at the doorway, glancing about the room curiously. “What’s my star apprentice doing in a place like this?”
A place like this? It was still they’re house. “I just…wanted to take a look around,” Jimmy admitted. “Like you said, it’s been a while.”
Stikin entered the room, eyeing the bed with a strange expression Jimmy couldn’t place. “Not all that long, really.”
Did Jimmy hear that right? It had been over a year!
“Actually, I’m glad to see you here,” his father noted. “I’ve been doing some thinking. You’re moving along quite nicely in your apprenticeship, and this room is just taking up wasted space. And as you know, wasted space is an engineer’s worst enemy.”
He turned to Jimmy with a light smile. “I’m thinking of having this room remodeled. We’ll get rid of all this junk and you can use it as your personal office and workspace. It’s about time you started some projects without the old stallion looking over your shoulder.”
Jimmy stared, mouth agape. He knew he should say something, but nothing would come to mind. At least, nothing he could say out loud. This was like a promotion, yes. But…get rid of Nye’s room? There were no signs of his younger twin’s existence anywhere in the house; Stikin had kept his promise of that day and thrown it all out. But this room he’d left alone. Jimmy had always assumed it had been because of some secret guilt, a guilt that he’d hoped would open the door to his brother’s return.
But it seemed that door was going to be closed.
He couldn’t let him do this, not without saying something. “But… Pops… What if… What if Nye…?”
Stikin’s gaze became as cold as ice, and Jimmy couldn’t form any more words. He lowered his head, struggling with his throat. At last he was able to speak again, and he felt like a coward for it. “Of course, this room will be perfect.”
Stikin watched him for a few more seconds, but then smiled and took another look around. “Yes, yes it will. As soon as we get rid of all the trash.”
“Thank you, Pops.” Jimmy had to fight to keep his voice above a whisper. He marched to the door. “I need to go, I had a meeting scheduled for this afternoon.”
“Of course,” his father declared, beaming at his prodigal son. “That’s my boy, working hard! Your great-grandfather would be proud of you, son.”
If only Jimmy could feel proud, as well.
He left the house and walked the Manehattan streets. There was no meeting, not for today…but he simply had to get away from that stallion. Every now and again he would take these long walks, trying to forget the weight on his shoulders. He wanted a legacy, but his father’s expectations were always so big, and Jimmy knew deep down that he wasn’t as good as him. Of course he wasn’t; his talent was in mechanical engineering, not structural. Most layponies didn’t know the difference, but he knew it was a lot bigger than they imagined.
Sometimes, when going on these head-clearing strolls, he would watch the crowds. He did this now, eyeing each passing face, looking for something familiar. Perhaps he was hoping to spot Nye among them. Yet with every passing glance, he reassured himself that he would never find his brother in Manehattan. He was probably on the complete other side of Equestria. Maybe beyond, if his urge to escape were strong enough.
He had been walking without direction through the busy streets and shining lights, but before he knew it he was in Central Park. Suddenly he knew where he was going, and what he intended to do.
The cemetery. His father visited once a week, every Saturday. Jimmy didn’t come so often; he’d always respected his father’s need for privacy. So it had been a while. Even so, he could have found the grave in his sleep.
Sweet Dream.
Beloved wife and mother.
He lay in the grass before the tall tombstone. He felt like crying…but his thoughts were centered on Nye.
“I’ve been trying, Ma,” he whispered. “I wanted Pops to crack, to show some sort of grief. At times like these I wish you were here. I can’t control him like you did.
“Nye is still gone, Ma. I… I’m starting to think he’ll never come home. I miss him, almost as much as I miss you. With how Pops acts, it’s almost as if Nye’s died, too.”
He lay his head in the grass, nose barely touching the cool stone. “Tell me your secrets. Tell me why he listened to you. He always was willing to give Nye a chance when you were around. Tell me why. How did you make him care? I want him to care.
“I need help. I can’t bring Nye back on my own, not with things being as they are.
“Please. Help me.”
There was no telling how long he lay there, waiting for an answer he knew wouldn’t come. He listened to the birds, the wind in the trees, the distant humming of a city that was all around, yet also distant. He listened to himself crying. He just listened.
Perhaps he had nodded off. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that when he finally looked up it was well into the afternoon.
And he wasn’t alone.
“Having difficulty coping with the loss?”
Jimmy slowly, wearily raised himself into a sitting position. He glanced over his shoulder to see a tall mottled brown unicorn with a black mane. He rubbed his eyes and turned away, not bothering to answer.
“It’s difficult, when a mother dies,” the unicorn continued in a forlorn tone. “I suppose I should feel lucky, though; I didn’t lose a brother in the process.”
Jimmy blinked, rubbed his eyes free of tears one last time, then looked over his shoulder. “What did you just say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Jimmy jerked his head away. “Just go away.”
“I would if I could, but I’m afraid it’s not possible. At least, not yet. I’m here on business.”
“Business?” Jimmy gave a weak laugh. “It can wait.”
“It’s been waiting for a long time, as it is.”
Jimmy was already tired of this guy. He stood and turned to the unicorn with a glare. “What do you want?”
“Oh, no,” the unicorn countered with a stern glare. “The question is what do you want? What’s more important to you? The Legacy of a father who may never see you as anything more than the assurance of his own immortality? Or the one pony still living that thinks of you as family?”
Jimmy stared, not just a little surprised. “You… You seem to know a lot.”
The unicorn glanced away with an innocent expression. “You overestimate my knowledge, Mr. Stone. I just read the papers.”
“Who are you?”
“A concerned citizen.”
“Stop playing games!” Jimmy wanted to buck the stallion in the teeth, but held his anger back. “Why are you here?”
“I’m just posing a question,” the ever-calm unicorn replied. “Be careful about your answer.”
Jimmy sighed and turned away to stare at his mother’s grave once more. “Just…please, just go away.”
For a moment he thought the unicorn had left…but then a white envelope dropped onto the grass next to his hooves. He stared at it, frowning with disinterest. “What’s that?”
“The Legacy or your brother. When you’ve made your decision, open it. What you do with the information within is up to you.”
Jimmy turned back, but the unicorn was gone.
He considered leaving the envelope where it was. Then he considered ripping it open and seeing what was inside. In the end, he picked it up and went home, mind heavy with questions.
Jimmy’s heart was heavy as he opened the front door of Stone Manor. His first completed project had been met with acclaim, but he hadn’t been fooled. He’d read the reviews, heard what so many critics weren’t willing to say to his face. The building was good, but it wasn’t Stikin Stone good. It wasn’t original enough, it wasn’t delicate enough, not practical enough, not cheap enough. Talent was shown, but he was still but a candle standing before a lighthouse.
Disappointing. So very, very disappointing.
He didn’t want to see his father, who was no doubt prepared to give his own personal review. He dreaded that moment, because he knew – he knew – that he’d failed to fill his horseshoes. So instead he decided to go to the one place he could expect to be alone to prepare himself; his office. Nye’s old room.
What a severe displeasure, then, to find his father at his desk.
“Pops!” He tried to keep his tone light. It wasn’t easy. “I wasn’t expecting you to be in.”
“Is that so?” Stikin Stone turned about, and Jimmy’s heart sank; he had in his hooves the shoemaking tool that had once belonged to Nye.
But he wasn’t just worried. He was also upset. “So you’re looking through my property, now?”
Stikin’s eyes were as cold as they’d ever been. “My home, my rules.” He raised the tool demonstrably. “This belonged to him, didn’t it? Saved it from the trash can, did you?”
Jimmy scowled. “Can’t you at least say his name?”
The tool dropped to the desk. The sound of the hit seemed inordinately loud.
“Jimmy,” Stikin said after a pause, “I’ve been very proud of you. I saw your work. A huge success. Not as brilliant as my own work, yet for my successor it was a great accomplishment. But this?” The stallion stepped aside and placed a hoof down on something atop the desk. Jimmy took a tender step forward; it was the envelope. He’d held on to it for months, but never opened it.
It was open now.
“You…! I can’t belie… How dare you!?”
“You’ve been busy, I see,” Stikin declared, lifting the envelope. “I’m very disappointed. I thought my position was clear.”
It was. Suddenly it was very clear.
Jimmy took another daring step forward. “What does it say?”
The elder Stone’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “You mean you don’t yet know?” A long silence. “It’s a location.”
Jimmy’s heart skipped a beat. His father wouldn’t say, because that would mean mentioning his name, but he knew what was implied. “Let me see it.”
Stikin spoke slowly, confidently. “You will never investigate this again. You will not speak of it, mention it. Not even think of it.”
“Let me see it.”
The stallion stared at him for some time. Then, as if it were a simple thing, he turned and dropped the letter into Jimmy’s paper shredder.
“No!”
Jimmy dove for the device, but it was too late; the information was gone.
He stared at the shredder for several long seconds, rage slowly building up within him. His ears rang, his eyes saw red. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold it in this time.
He turned on his father in a fury. “He’s my brother!”
“Impossible,” Stikin replied, voice calm. “That would imply I had another son.”
“Did you ever, ever care about him?! Is there even the tiniest scrap of love in that black and withered thing you call a heart?!”
But his father wasn’t bothered by Jimmy’s fury. “That bastard was set to ruin the Stone legacy. I don’t want to hear about him, think about him, remember him. You need to think about what’s truly important, Jimmy.”
“Important?!” He was going to hurt the stallion. He just knew it. “Mother always told us you cared, that deep down you were just concerned for us. But Nye was right. You’re a monster!”
“Your mother?” For the first time Stikin showed some emotion, his eyes flaring dangerously. “Do not speak of your mother to me! I loved the mare, I truly did. She was the light of my life. But she was a baker. A damn baker!” He stepped away from Jimmy, as if to hide his face. “That pegasus came from such great stock. Her uncle, an architect. Her sister, a mason. Her mother at least taught engineering! And she had to go and be a baker!”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jimmy demanded.
“Don’t you see?!” Stikin cried. “This is all her fault! She polluted the waters! A cobbler, of all things she gave me a cobbler!”
“That’s your wife you’re talking about!”
“I loved Sweet Dream!” Stikin was in Jimmy face, and there was more anger in those eyes than he’d ever revealed before. “She was perfect in almost every way. One flaw, one single Celestia-be-damned flaw, and the Stone line was almost ruined! I can forgive her, for I adored her, but I cannot forgive the spawn she gave me.”
“He’s your son!”
“He’s not my son!” Stikin practically screamed. “He’s a bastard! A mistake! He never should have been born!”
Jimmy stared, seeing his father for the first time. When he at last spoke, his voice was quiet. “And me? We’re twins, Pops. If he shouldn’t have been born, what about me?”
Stikin stared at him, face locked in a grim frown, then turned away. “You’re my son, Jimmy. You are the future of the Stone Family. My Legacy, my name, will live on because of you! Do you know how precious that makes you?”
He’d said it. He’d actually said it. “Is that all I am to you? A means to your immortality?”
Stikin stared at him from over his shoulder. His gaze pierced into Jimmy’s soul. Those eyes. Those horrible green jewels. Jewels that shined as cold as that day when he and Nye were colts, waiting in their room for a verdict.
Now Jimmy knew his father.
He turned, grabbed the shoemaker’s tool in his teeth, and fled the house.
It was raining when he reached the cemetery. Good, it made his tears less obvious. He lay in the wet grass before his mother’s grave and wept, wept as he’d never wept before. His entire world was so empty, so devoid of meaning. He didn’t know what to do anymore, save to lie at that grave and beg for his mother to come and tell him everything would be okay.
But Sweet Dream would never come.
He was all alone.
“I take it you’ve made a decision?”
His head jerked up and about. There was the mottled-brown unicorn, right where he’d been before. No umbrella; he just stood in the pouring rain as if it were natural.
The unicorn’s face was grim, but when he spoke again his voice was soft. “In a certain culture, they believe that when a good pony dies, the first thing the pony sees in the afterlife is his mother. She purveys the good news.”
Jimmy turned away to drop his head back in the grass, too miserable to respond.
“Bad ponies, on the other hand, meet their fathers. Bad news.” A moment’s silence. “I wonder which one Stikin Stone will meet?”
Jimmy considered the question, wiping away tears and rain from his face. “He’ll meet grandpa.”
A long, tender silence.
“He’s in Ponyville.”
Jimmy stood and turned. The unicorn was still there. “Why are you telling me? Why?”
“I’ll be seeing you, Jimmy Stone.” The unicorn turned and walked away, soon disappearing in the sheets of rain.
Jimmy stepped off the train in Ponyville, feeling a touch confused. It was so…open. And green. Nothing like Manehattan. Had his brother really come to a place like this to live? He’d had his doubts, but he’d wrestled with them all the way over here. This was the only lead he had, so he might as well try.
But where to begin?
He wandered away from the station, anxiously observing the locals and their small houses and businesses. He marveled at how amazingly quiet it was; no massive crowds, no carriages running to and fro; no subways, no bright flashing lights. Just grass, trees and sunshine.
He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
He began asking around. Nopony knew a ‘Nye Stone,’ but they did know ‘plain old Nye,’ who matched his twin’s description perfectly. Jimmy should have known his brother would abandon his last name. He was mildly surprised; Nye was well known in this place. A few even spoke as if they were friends with him. That was especially strange, for Nye had never been good at making friends.
Maybe living in a little place like this had been good for him.
In a curious turn of events, Jimmy learned that the Nye matching his brother’s description was working as a ticket attendant at the railroad station, so he doubled back. When he asked the attendant at the window, though, it turned out that the stallion was off for the day. Jimmy’d been frustrated, but at least he earned a new lead; it seemed Nye was fond of spending time with somepony named Rainbow Dash.
And everypony in town knew that name. Apparently she was a major figure of Ponyville, a sort of local hero. By her description she wouldn’t be hard to find, either. At one point he met an unusually happy pink pony who insisted on singing a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ song while using a strange contraption that exploded cake batter in his face. She was tickled silly to inform him that Rainbow loved to take naps near a certain pool.
Ah, naps. No wonder Nye liked hanging around her.
And so he got some directions from the pink pony – with some difficulty as she was so very hyper – and soon found himself at the pond. And, as hoped, he spotted the ‘famous’ pegasus loafing on a tree limb, front hooves behind her head and a leg dangling lazily just above the water’s surface.
“Are you Rainbow Dash?”
The blue mare sat up and raised her sunglasses to eye Jimmy before grinning and laying back down. “The one and only! If you’re here for an autograph, you’ll have to wait. I’ve barely started my nap.”
“I only need to know one thing,” Jimmy told her with utmost seriousness. “Where is Nye Stone?”
“Nye? You’re here for Nye and not me? Seriously?” She waved a hoof to gesture at the tree. “He’s right down—” she turned to look down the opposite side of the tree, “—there? Huh?”
Jimmy let out a gasp and darted around the tree; Nye wasn’t there. He was in the distance, running away.
“Nye!” Jimmy opened his wings and flew like he’d not flown in ages. At last, after all this time, he’d found him! “Nye, it’s me, Jimmy!”
“I know!” the stallion cried.
“Whoa, whoa.” Rainbow was abruptly flying at his side, a multi-colored streak in her wake. “What’s going on?”
Nye spun about and gestured wildly at her. “Rainbow, keep him back so I can get away!”
“What?” she asked, completely clueless. “And go where?”
“Somewhere, anywhere, as long as it’s away from him!”
Jimmy beat his wings harder, determined to catch up. He thanked Celestia that his brother was never very athletic. “Nye please, I just want to talk!”
The younger Stone leapt into some bushes, disappearing from view. His voice rose from somewhere within. “Forget it, Jimmy. I’m never going back!”
Jimmy paused above the shrubs, his voice desperate. “I don’t want you to go back!”
“Go back where?” Rainbow demanded, flying circles around him. For somepony about to take a nap, she seemed awfully energetic.
There was a long, agonizing pause as he waited for his brother’s response, ignoring the questions from the orbiting mare. He began to wonder fearfully if Nye hadn’t fled under cover already.
But then Nye’s head appeared from within the bushes. “You mean you’re not here to take me back to Manehattan?”
Jimmy lowered himself to the ground, head bowed in shame. “I… I left Pops.”
Nye’s eyes went wide. “You did what? But what about the Stone Legacy and all that?”
“Stone Legacy?” Rainbow hovered over their heads. “What are you two talking about?!”
“I don’t want to be part of that anymore,” Jimmy confessed miserably. “Not when he’s attached to it.”
Nye crawled his way out of the bushes, face severe. “Finally figured it out, then?”
Jimmy eyed Nye, keeping his head low and feeling so very guilty. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out something; the old shoemaking tool. Nye’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and he took it in both hooves tenderly. “I… I’m sorry, bro.”
“Bro?!” Rainbow Dash landed next to Nye to get in his face. “This guy’s your brother?”
He pushed her back with an annoyed look, then turned it on Jimmy. His face was hard, studious. Jimmy didn’t bother to defend himself. He just waited.
Nye turned the tool over and over in his hooves, clearly thinking hard. At last he sighed with an exasperated smile. “Yeah… Yeah I guess he is.”
Jimmy was so happy he gave his twin a big hug. His brother returned it slowly. “Umm, kay. Yeah… This isn’t like you at all, Jim.”
Jimmy didn’t care. He was just so happy to have a brother again.
At last Nye pushed him away and asked, “So…how did you find me, anyway?”
“Ummm…” Jimmy rubbed his head, considered, got a bit lost. “That’s kind of a strange story.”
“Well come on, you can tell me at my place.”
Rainbow jumped in front of them. “Would somepony please tell me what’s going on?!”
Princess Luna
I apologize for not giving you this information in person, but at the moment I’m traveling in accordance with my investigation of potential candidates and could not find a chance to return to Canterlot.
I wanted to inform you that I have completed my investigation regarding the third candidate, one Jimmy Stone. You will be interested to know that he is the elder twin of your friend Nye, and a pegasus pony. As you are aware, I was very concerned about his qualifications, due to his uncharacteristic procrastination regarding an important decision he had to make. I am pleased to report that Jimmy overcame the issue and made the proper decision. In so doing he has created for himself entirely new problems, but I believe the decision marks great progress on his part and thus secures him a place in our future.
Included with this letter is the full report on my investigation of Mr. Stone, for your digestion.
Also: I’ve found that moon sugar mixed in with hot cocoa and mint is a delightful combination they’ve made here in Manehattan. They call it a ‘Lunar Metropolis,’ possibly in honor of you. If you can get the ingredients, I highly recommend it.
Your ever-loyal ally,
Fine Crime
My Dear Princess Luna
An exciting thing has happened today: my brother has come to Ponyville! To be honest, when I saw him I was terrified. I told you all about my father in a previous letter, if you’ll remember. I always assumed Jimmy was in father’s pocket, but the two have had a falling out over me.
I’m sorry to say I severely misjudged my twin. But I’m happy I have a brother, and that makes life in Ponyville so much brighter! He’s crashing with me until he gets a job and place of his own. I don’t suppose you know anypony in Canterlot who needs a good mechanical engineer?
Oh, by the way: Jimmy introduced me to this new thing they’ve got going in Manehattan. He called it a Luna Metropolis, or was it Lunar? Whatever. Point is you’ve got to try it! Make two cups hot cocoa, mix in three teaspoons each of mint before heating and moon sugar after. Trust me on this, it’s awesome!
Another hot day. Lightning Dust was getting sick of this heat. Granted she had the wind from flying, but it was a dry, sand-filled, scratchy wind. Nothing like the cool, moist air of Foal Mountains, and certainly not helpful right now.
But you know what? This was perfect. The bad flying air and depressing heat suited her mood just fine.
“Hey, Lightning!” A mustard-yellow mare with dark pink hair flew up close to her. “Speed up, would you? I’d like to finish cloud duty before the week is up.”
Lightning Dust said nothing, but increased her speed as told. Her lead pony made a familiar grumbling sound and moved ahead.
Lightning was fast. She was incredibly fast. So fast she’d almost managed to become a Wonderbolt. But for the past three weeks she simply didn’t have any energy. Fortunately, nobody in Appleloosa noticed because she’d only been there for two weeks. They just assumed she was a weak flyer.
They soared over the dusty landscape, gathering up clouds. In many places across Equestria, clouds were unwelcome for obscuring the sunlight. Sunlight brought warmth, and made a day bright and cheerful. But here in the desert the sun’s heat could kill, and clouds were lifesavers. Appleloosa, still considered a colony rather than a town, was in need of pegasi to bring in the clouds, so Lightning had come here.
It was better than home. It was dull, boring, a bit backwards. Unpopular and underpopulated. Very out of the way, even by pegasi standards.
Better than home.
Sandstorm wouldn’t have been anywhere near as fast as Lightning on her best day, but she was still pretty impressive in her own right. Lightning didn’t blame her frustration.
Rounding up some clouds was easy, of course, and within an hour they had a significant cloud sized up and ready to bring back to town. When it got there they’d connect it with the other clouds being brought in by other pegasi teams to cover the entire colony. Enough shade to keep the area cool for another week.
They were on their way back, a pegasus on each side of the great cloud so as to keep it under control. Lightning had hardly said anything throughout the flight, and Sandstorm had given up trying to make friends with her days ago. So they flew on in silence, keeping an eye on the cloud and observing the terrain with boredom.
They saw the train snaking along the rocky desert landscape at about the same time. Neither of them thought anything of it at first. Then Lightning noticed something strange: the smoke from the engine was forming an odd angle, stretching a bit too long, moving across the horizon a bit too…
Sandstorm flew closer to her and pointed. “Does that train look like it’s moving fast to you?”
“Yeah,” Lightning agreed. “You want to go down and take a look?”
“I dunno,” her lead pony replied, glancing at the big cloud they’d gathered. “We need to get this thing to Appleloosa. If it breaks up we’ll have to gather it all again, which would be so annoying.”
They watched the train, which would pass under them in a few minutes. The more they observed, the more obvious it was that the thing was going way too fast.
“Okay, that looks really unsafe,” Sandstorm admitted after a while. “I don’t like leaving this big guy, but I guess we’d better have a look.”
She zoomed down towards the tracks and flew alongside them, Lightning close behind. They kept their distance from the line as they approached the speeding locomotive...then stopped as it screamed by in a flash!
For a moment they hovered there, looking at one another in confusion.
“Did that train just scream?” Lightning asked.
Sandstorms’ face was white. “I think that was the passengers.”
Another moment of shocked staring, and they were in motion. Lightning flew at her full speed for the first time since…in a long time, coming alongside the train within seconds. Now matching the train’s speed, she could see things more clearly. There were only five cars on the train, and three of those were passenger cars. They didn’t have a lot of ponies in them, but the ponies that were there looked not just a little scared, waving and gesturing for help.
Sandstorm finally caught up. “Since when could you fly so fast?!” she shouted over the rumbling train. “What’s going on?”
“I think the train’s out of control,” Lightning shouted back. She looked up and down the train, not sure what to do.
“Maybe we can fly ahead, warn Sheriff Silverstar?” Sandstorm suggested.
But Lightning shook her head. “This thing’s a rocket on rails! I don’t think anypony in Appleloosa can help.”
Sandstorm chewed her lip with an anxious frown. “All right…you go to the engine, see what you can do. I’m gonna start getting ponies off the train!”
“Got it,” Lightning agreed with a wave. She zipped forward, easily outpacing the train, a blue and yellow streak of lightning trailing her. It had been a while since she’d seen that.
She reached the engine, startled at the amount of black smoke that was billowing from its smokestack. She flew close to the engineer’s window, trying to see inside. There was a lot of heat, but it didn’t seem dangerous. She saw the conductor lying on the floor, and somepony else standing over him. She tried calling out, but the noise of the train was too loud.
Cursing, she slowed until she was level with the back of the engine. It would be a tricky maneuver…
On the count of three she performed a swift canopy roll, slipping between the engine and the coal car. She had barely fit, the roof of the engine brushing her amber mane. Safely within the train, she tucked her wings and kicked against the coal car, landing neatly within the engine room.
Wow, was it hot! Heat waves rolled out of the coal boiler, making it difficult to move forward. She spotted the other pony, a mottled brown stallion in a black vest, leaning over the conductor. She approached and set a hoof to his shoulder, and the stallion reared up and nearly struck her with a hoof!
“Whoa, watch it!”
“Sorry,” the stallion – a unicorn, she now saw – said over the raging noise. “Shocked me!” He turned and leaned back over the conductor.
It was then she noticed the blood.
“What happened?” she demanded, sitting down next to him and trying to ignore the heat.
“Don’t know,” the unicorn confessed. “I came forward from the third car to see what was up, and he was like this.”
“So what do we do?”
The unicorn stood, backing away from the heat. “For him? Nothing, he’s gone.”
She winced at that news, a pang of sadness rushing through her. But there were more pressing concerns. Lightning backed up alongside him, feeling not just a little worried. “Then how do we stop the train?!”
“I’m not an engineer,” he explained, voice ever-calm. “I don’t know what any of those switches and gizmos do. Besides, it’ too hot to get near the boiler, anyway.”
“You’re a unicorn,” she snapped in annoyance. “Don’t you have some sort of spell that might help?”
He shook his head, turning away from a spark of coal that shot up at the two of them. “I know one fire-related spell, and it’s designed to intensify heat. Not very useful in this situation.”
“What if we closed the boiler door?”
“Might cause an explosion,” the stallion noted seriously. “If you could get close enough to touch it, that is. Brakes?”
“At this speed?” Lightning asked. “They’d break, alright.”
The unicorn glowered at the engine, still lacking in anything resembling fear or worry. “By Luna, this trip isn’t going at all like I’d planned. If we could just get that fire put out, the train would stop on its own!”
Put out the fire?
Lightning had an idea.
“I’m gonna try something,” she told him, turning to the back of the engine. “Get the conductor out of the engine, ‘cause things are about to get a lot hotter!” And with that she jumped, kicked off the coal car, and was back out beside the train. Her opal wings caught air and she was zipping up into the cloudy sky!
The train had passed the cloud she and Sandstorm had created. It had taken the two of them an hour to form that cloud, but she knew she could have done it alone in a third that time. Now, finally working at her full potential, she was able to corral the thing and have it floating after the train in mere moments. Accelerating the cloud to match the train’s speed required a lot of effort, and she had to pause to gather up more clouds as she went. Yet she pulled it off, and after a while she had a massive white cloud well ahead of the train’s path.
Now she began shaping the cloud, her body a blur in the sky. Thinner, denser, darker, soon she had the entire thing snaking along just above the tracks, a black roiling string of storm cloud. Once sure everything was in place she zipped to the front and hovered, watching the train’s fast approach. She was sweating, hopefully from tension and not the exercise. She kept her eyes locked on the engine; she had to get the timing just ri—
Now!
She zipped above the cloud, matching the train’s speed. Her lightning wake bounced along the clouds as she hopped from one section to the next, kicking down on the black, rain-bloated thunderheads. Each hit made an intense splash of rain fall atop the engine; or at least she hoped she was hitting the engine. If her timing was off she’d be showering the coal car, or perhaps missing the train entirely!
When she at last cleared the long cloud, she looked down to see nothing but track. For a moment her heart sank – had she missed? – but then she saw the train rumbling along behind her, a small puff of smoke breezing feebly out of its stack.
“Woo yeah!”
She’d done it! She congratulated herself on an awesome and expertly-timed maneuver. That was Wonderbolt material, there!
The train was steadily slowing, and she dove down to land on the back of the last car. Feeling awfully proud and ready for some praise, she opened the back door and entered…
…to silence.
“Huh?” She looked around at the empty car. But she’d seen ponies in here earlier! “Where did everypony go?”
She moved through the train, feeling not just a little let down. At the last passenger car she found the mottled-brown unicorn. “Hey,” she asked, “what happened to everypony?”
“Your flight partner got everypony off the train ten minutes ago,” he announced. He was sitting calmly in a booth, studying what appeared to be a list with noticeable annoyance. “Great job stopping the engine.”
“What? Seriously?” She paced the floor, glaring at nothing in particular. “You mean I went through all that trouble wrangling clouds and executing that perfect maneuver, and nopony saw me?!”
“I saw you,” he noted helpfully. “It was pretty impressive.”
“Impressive? That has to have been one of the coolest tricks ever! I don’t believe this. But that just figures; ever since the Academy it’s been one disappointment after another. They’re probably all out there, cheering on Sandstorm at this very moment. I’m the one who stopped the train before it reached Appleloosa!”
“But she’s the one that got everpony off the train,” he noted, still studying his list.
She paused and gave him a sour look. “Not everypony. Why are you still here?”
“I wanted to see your plan,” he answered with a smile. “Really, it was a great maneuver.”
She bowed her head and turned to head for the door, a wave of sadness coming over her. “Yeah, lot of good it did.”
The unicorn sat back and studied her curiously. “What’s your name?”
“Lightning Dust,” she growled. “Excuse me, I wanna brood.”
The unicorn gazed at the door after she’d left, thinking long and hard. After a while he picked up his list and poured over it. It was very long. When he’d gone through every name he sat back and stared at the door again.
“Why isn’t that name on my list?”
A dark, moonless night in Cloudsdale. The cloud factory was churning at its usual pace, skeleton crew going through the motions. Like the rest of the city, nopony noticed the thing flying in a slow orbit just beneath the cloudcover. It was a curious creature: orange, feline head, shoulders and arms with a long green-scaled tail like a snake, and a pair of wings that had both orange feathers and green scales.
The creature paused and hovered, studying the clouds with a playful grin.
Kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit! Its giggle was a strange clicking sound as its two sandpapery lizard tongues clicked deep in its throat. It raised an arm, extracted a single claw from its paw, and slowly ripped open the cloud above. A flap of its wings and it was in the factory, startling a pair of worker ponies. They stared, opened their mouths to cry out, and the creature clapped its paws together. A single sound cracked through the room, and instantly the two pegasi disappeared in a poof of orange smoke.
A pair of chickens dropped out of the cloud and disappeared, flailing to the earth below.
Why are you bothering with this?
“Let me have some fun.” The cat-snake creature replied, fluttering about the factory. It observed the various gadgets, gizmos and gears with a wicked smile. A clap here, and that gear became a sunflower. A clap there, and pistons became marshmallows. It spotted a tiny metal something-or-other connected to a bunch of hooks, springs and wheels.
“Ooooh, that looks very specific and special and…hard to make.” Clap; it turned to jello.
Pressure valves were whistling. Gears were locking up. Pistons got stuck.
The place was in chaos.
When the rest of the night’s crew arrived they found a factory on the verge of catastrophe. None of them could hear the fading kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit laughter. They were too busy fleeing.
I really don’t think that was necessary, Tazel.
The pegasi were all in attendance outside the sheriff’s office. Lightning remained in the back of the pack. The incident with the train had been over a month ago, and she was still fuming. But there was no time for self-pity; the town was in a state of emergency.
Sheriff Silverstar was pacing before the pegasi, face grim. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good,” he declared solemnly. “Cloudsdale has sent two pegasi here in answer to our letter. They report that the repairs to the factory is going to take at least another month.”
Frantic murmurs filled the crowd. Lightning only grimaced.
“The Seven Heavens and the Ninth Cloud factories are struggling to provide cloudwater to the rest of Equestria, and the Cloudarba pegasus colony won’t have its factory ready to produce for at least another year. That means Appleloosa is going to have to find a way to survive another month of drought entirely on its own.”
Bad news; the colony was already struggling to survive after just two weeks.
“Naturally, we’re going to be dependent upon all the town’s pegasi to pull this off. Cinnamon Swirl and Cream Tangerine were sent by Cloudsdale as expert advisors for this crisis, and as of now will take over as Cloud Patrol Captains. Ladies?”
A red-coated, green-haired pegasus stepped up beside the Sheriff. They exchanged a few quiet words before Silverstar stepped back to let her talk.
“Alright everypony,” she began, “I’m Cinnamon Swirl. Cream Tangerine’s in the air checking conditions. We’re going to divide everyone here into teams, which will then fan out and search all across the desert for wayward clouds. Cream and I will work together with Sheriff Silverstar to determine how we ration the cloudwater brought back to town, but the Apple Orchard will take priority as it feeds everypony.
“Clouds will be difficult to come by in the coming weeks. Every piece of fluff is helpful, so don’t skip anything! Remember, the survival of this town depends upon all of us working as best we can. Together we can save Appleloosa!”
A round of cheering. Lightning didn’t join in.
Another week come and gone. Lightning was at the back of the pack, three other ponies flying ahead so that they all made a diamond pattern.
She didn’t like this team. Airheart, a pink-coated and orange-maned volunteer from Ponyville, she was fine with. But the other two members were the so-called ‘experts,’ Cinnamon Swirl and Cream Tangerine. Lightning didn’t have any problem with them…until they realized from their records that she’d been a candidate for the Wonderbolts. Now everypony in Appleloosa knew.
So she didn’t like those two.
They wanted her on their team. They wanted to see what she could do, perhaps put her in a position of leadership after they’d gone.
She wanted no part in any of it.
The team was flying east over the desert’s low mountains. Red as far as the eye could see, and not a cloud in sight. At last Cinnamon Swirl gestured the halt, and the four hovered close to discuss strategy. Or rather, to receive orders.
“Okay girls,” Cream declared, “we’re gonna spread out and meet back here in two hours. I’ll head North, Cinnamon South. Airheart, you head Northeast, Lightning, take the Southeast. If you find a cloud, gather it up and bring it back here. If you find a big one, note its location, speed and direction and we’ll come back for it after we get back together. Any questions?”
“Lightning and I are sure to hit the Everfree Sea,” Airheart noted. “What if we find clouds from there?”
Cinnamon Swirl shook her head. “That region is wild; clouds move on their own. They can’t be controlled, so don’t try. If you hit the sea, just follow the coastline.”
“Got it.”
“Anypony else?” Cream Tangerine cast a look at Airheart and Lightning in turn. “Then let’s get started. See you gals in a few.”
And so she flew. And flew. And flew some more. Lightning was glad to be alone, it gave her time to mope. She watched for clouds, as she was meant to, but she didn’t expect to find anything. Appleloosa was hanging on by a thread. The patrols were turning up clouds, but it was only barely enough to keep the orchard and the ponies alive. Her own stomach churned every now and again from the lack of water.
But she kept flapping her wings, kept soaring through the skies. Even if she didn’t feel like flying anymore, she had a job to do. She couldn’t just quit, not when so many ponies needed her help. So she kept on going, bitter and miserable but focused.
It didn’t take long for her to spot the shining blue horizon that signaled the Everfree Sea. It was a lot closer than she’d thought, having only taken some forty-five minutes to reach from the rendezvous point. So much water. Too bad it was all salt water.
She landed on a jagged outcropping, watching the waves lap against the sand a dozen or so feet below. She was so thirsty, and hadn’t seen even one cloud along the way. Watching the waves only made her stomach churn more, so she looked up, instead.
Clouds. Beautiful, white, pristine clouds. They floated over the sea, big and soft and alluring. But those clouds were wild, not the same as the ones produced in a factory. She’d never tried to wrangle a wild one before, despite her hometown being in wild country.
She glanced around, as if to ensure she was alone. She still had some thirty minutes before she would have to turn back. Why not give it a try?
She flew out over the sea and immediately sensed the change in the air. Air currents blew of their own volition, rocking her through the skies wildly. She struggled to control her flight path in the unfamiliar winds, more than once dropping perilously. The challenge fed her passion, charged her energies, excited her! Before she knew it she was flying at full speed, using all her skill to dance and sway in the currents. The winds battered her, fought with her, tried to knock her out of the sky…but this was her domain.
There was no telling how long it took, but at last she was accustomed to the strange shifts of the air. She was coming to understand how the air behaved at different altitudes, how air pressure could change from one current to the next. She was doing something that few pegasi dared: she was surfing the wild skies! The reminder of home brought a smile to her face for the first time in ages.
Refreshed and invigorated, Lightning turned her attention to the clouds. If she could tame the winds, surely she could tame one of the clouds out here, right?
It wasn’t at all as easy as she’d hoped. Bucking the cloud did absolutely nothing; it was like kicking air. Try to push it and it floated around her body like water. Blow on it and the white puffs separated and spread out randomly, not at all moving where she wanted them to. She tried every trick she knew, but the clouds just wouldn’t behave!
She was at it for well beyond the thirty minutes she’d allotted herself. Heck, she’d been out there for hours. She was tired, hungry, and low on energy. But she kept trying; she was going to defeat these clouds if it killed her!
At long last, she discovered a way to move a cloud without dissipating it. It involved a lot of circling and careful maneuvering, but she was able to pull a small tuft out from over the sea and above dry land. She had hoped that upon leaving the Everfree Sea the magic might be lost and the cloud would become just a regular cloud. She didn’t have to try to touch it to know that she’d been wrong; the cloud was as wild over land as it had been over the water, it just didn’t have any crazy winds to move it around.
But it was still a cloud. Not a big cloud, but a cloud. She could bring it back to Appleloosa, prove to the others that it could be done. Then, when they all learned how to do it, the water shortage would be over. She’d be a hero!
It took the rest of the day to get the cloud to town. Endless circling, constant fretting over little puffs that kept trying to escape, hunger and thirst gnawing at her the whole time. But finally, as the twilight began to fade over the horizon, she reached Appleloosa.
It was already covered by a single massive cloud.
Ponies were celebrating below. She could hear singing, could see them dancing. And deep down she fumed.
“Lightning!” Airheart arose from below to greet her. “Where have you been? We spent half the day looking for you.”
“And hit paydirt in the process?” Lightning asked, her tone glum.
“Sure did!” the pink pony grinned. “Cinnamon thinks there’s enough water in it to keep Appleloosa going for another week.” She noted Lightning’s distressed expression and misunderstood. “Oh, but you must be famished! Come on, let’s add that cloud to this one and…”
“Can’t,” Lightning muttered, abandoning her hard work and floating slowly down to the town.
“Oh my,” Airheart noted from above, “this thing's wild!”
Lightning landed near a table which had clearly been set up as a buffet and immediately grabbed an apple. She gobbled it down quickly, even eating the core. Some water was there, too; she grabbed a cup and drank every drop.
“We were wondering when you’d turn up.” It was Cream, stepping up on one side of the table. “You got lost?”
“Something like that,” Lightning muttered, dropping her cup unto the table unceremoniously.
“Well at least you found a cloud,” Cinnamon noted, approaching to stand by Cream, “and look what we found while we were out searching for you!”
“Yeah,” Lightning grumbled, not bothering to look up. “Great.”
“Hey, girls,” Airheart called as she hovered overhead, “take a look! Lightning nabbed a wild cloud!”
Aw, nuts.
“A wild cloud?” Cinnamon glancing up at the thing with scrutiny.
“You mean you went to the Everfree Sea?” Cream asked seriously, flying up take a look. A brief pause. “It’s wild, alright.”
Cinnamon turned her dark look upon Lightning, who returned it with a grimace. “We told you not to bother with wild clouds.”
“Well I did.”
Airheart landed by Lightning, frowning anxiously. “But she was able to get one. It’s impressive…right?”
“It’s a waste of time,” Cream corrected, landing next to Cinnamon.
“Time and energy,” Cinnamon added. “You spent an entire day wrestling wild clouds in the Everfree Sea when you could have been helping us with this!” She gestured to the cloud above them.
Lightning bristled. Airheart shied back even as she attempted to smooth things over. “But…at least she brought a cloud back. That’s good, right?”
“No, it’s not,” Cream declared. “We can’t get water out of a wild cloud! That thing is useless.”
“Hey,” Lightning snapped, “you found your big cloud because you were searching for me.”
“We found it in spite of you, not because,” Cinnamon shot back.
Cream shook her head. “No wonder you weren’t Wonderbolt material.”
Lightning snarled, jerked about and bucked. The table flipped up and smacked right into the mares, sending them sprawling to the ground in a mess of food and water. She spread her wings and flew, fighting back tears.
She was a disgrace. A total, complete loser. She’d not flown in three weeks. She simply lay in bed, or slumped her way around the house. Sometimes she’d stand in the station, watching trains come and go. She thought about getting on one and just going…but there was nowhere to go. Every town would be the same, all the problems would continue to exist.
She used to be somepony. She used to be admired. Now she was just pathetic.
Sometimes, when the sympathetic looks became too much to bear, she’d head into the desert and just walk. She’d stare into the sun-streaked lands, barren like her heart, and wonder if anypony would care if she just kept on going until she collapsed. Would anypony even notice she was missing?
There were times when she would have dreams about Foal Mountains, about home. Dreams of her friends, her cousin, of flying free over the green hills and plateaus that were so fragrant with flowers in the Spring. Dreams of being loved, of being a hero, of being the best. These dreams didn’t only come when she was sleeping; now and then they’d come when she was wide awake.
Did that mean she was going mad?
They made her cry, nonetheless.
But there were worse dreams: dreams of being at the Academy, of finally achieving her destiny, of making everypony she’d ever cared for proud.
Dreams of her.
Those dreams used to infuriate her. Now she would wake up from them numb, staring up at her ceiling blankly until sleep and dreams returned.
But one night she lay there, staring and trying not to think or – worse – fall asleep. That night things seemed a little different. Her ceiling was normally a drab brown. Tonight it was orange. The cracks and creases she’d become intimately familiar with were casting long shadows that danced strangely on the wood. Perhaps she was still dreaming. If so, this was certainly a new one.
She watched the dancing orange glow through heavy eyelids. Where did the light come from? It probably wasn’t important…
She turned on her side, eyes going to the window. The world outside was filled with that bright orange glow.
If this was a dream, perhaps it would show her something different. Something positive. She yearned for something positive to happen in her existence again. So she crawled out of bed, slowly and without anticipation, and went to stare glumly out the window.
Fire.
The Appleloosa orchard was on fire.
No, that wasn’t positive at all.
She very seriously considered going back to bed. She almost did. Then the shadows slipped by, shadows of running ponies. Blinking glumly, wondering if she might see something else in this dream, she moved to the window again and opened it. She looked out and saw ponies running about the orchard, trying to do something. They seemed so frantic, so concerned.
Then she realized this wasn’t a dream, and she wasn’t asleep.
Instinct kicked in, and Lightning was out the window and running to the blaze.
“What in the name of Celestia?!”
The fire was spreading swiftly, the trees dry as sand from weeks with too little rain. The Appleloosans were frantic, for the apple orchard was the town’s life. Without it they would have to abandon the colony or starve. Some were in tears. Others were fighting among themselves, trying to think of a solution. There was no water. There was nothing, absolutely nothing.
Lightning gazed at the ponies, taking in their misery and anger and frustration. That spark within her was igniting again. Regardless of her past behavior, there was no way she was going to let this happen. She had to help…but how?
She closed her eyes and thought, struggling to find a solution. Something, anything that might stop this…
And then she remembered the Wonderbolt Academy.
She opened her wings and lifted off for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Hot wind and ash stung her face and wings, but she ignored it and flapped, stretching muscles sore from disuse. The air, the open air! How wonderful it felt! With each pulsing beat of her wings she could feel that old energy and drive coming back to her.
It was time to see if she still had what it takes.
She flew along the perimeter of the flames, moving in circles. She went faster, faster, faster! She’d had a partner before, but now she was going to have to do it alone. Faster. Faster. Faster!
The winds whipped, the fire began to twist in the air. Her lightning wake was like a ring of light, a halo that whistled its high pitch, beautiful tune while she flew with all the power and strength of one of the best fliers in Equestria!
The tornado formed, it roiled, it rose. She was doing it, she was actually doing it!
“Lightning! Lightning, stop!”
Lightning blinked, lost her concentration, and then her control. She tumbled and rolled in the wind, and then the tornado collapsed. It took her only a few seconds to regain her composure, and then Cream and Cinnamon were in her face.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
She blinked, confused at first, but then grew angry. “What does it look like? I’m trying to blow out the fire!”
“Blow it out?!” Cimmanon cried.
“Look!” Cream pointed downward, and Lightning's eyes followed her hoof.
All her excitement and energy faded in an instant. Bits of burning debris, flung high by her tornado, had landed in a wide arc all around the orchard, and even into town. Dry wood was lighting up, basking the night sky in a deadly orange glow.
She’d made the situation worse.
“For Celestia’s sake, you’re hopeless,” Cream cried, flying back down to help the Appleloosans. “And to think the Factory will be working again in the morning!”
“Can’t you think before you act, just once?” Cinnamon added, following.
And Lightning just hovered there, the orange glow reflecting in her eyes and smoke coating her feathers. She watched, speechless and miserable, as the Appleloosans got together to form a plan. They began cutting down trees. Soon they’d cut an entire circle of toppled all around the blaze she’d spread. The fire, with no wood left to jump to, was contained.
Sniffing, she turned back to the town and watched as the Appleloosans knocked down burning buildings to keep the flames from destroying the rest of their homes. Her own little house she’d rented was among those being turned to rubble.
So she flew away. Weeping, blind of direction or destination, she flew. Flew, and screamed into the night for her uselessness.
Lightning had heard of ponies flying in their sleep. Until now she’d always assumed it was just a story. But when she finally opened her eyes she was still in the air, wings flapping steadily of their own volition. She was beneath a beautiful blue sky, a yellow sun hanging low in the East. And below her were mountains. Pristine, grey, snow-capped mountains. No clouds. No trees. Just air all around and rock and snow below.
How long had she been asleep?
How far had she flown?
She yawned, stretched, and tried to adjust her rate of flapping. It hurt, a lot.
She’d been in the air too long. Lightning scoured the world below and saw a large, snow-covered outcropping. Wincing against the sting, she circled it and slowly descended. She landed on soft snow covering hard rock, and almost teared up at the pain of folding her wings.
She was alone. Alone in a big world that didn’t want her. As she gazed out at the pristine mountains and empty sky, she wondered what she was going to do now.
But then something very strange happened; a black cloud roiled into existence right in front of her. When it faded away it revealed a stallion. She realized, with some amazement, that it was the unicorn she’d met when she’d stopped the train.
That seemed like years ago.
The stallion shook himself, black mane whipping about wildly, and gave her an exasperated look. “Thank Luna! I thought you’d never land. You know I can only do that trick so many times before it wears me out?” He certainly looked tired.
Lightning glanced around at their lifeless, barren surroundings in amazement. “You’ve been following me? For how long?”
“All night,” he answered with a weak smile.
She took an astonished step back from him. “Why?”
He sat and reached into his saddlebag, pulling out a couple large pears. He tossed one to her. “I thought you’d settle down somewhere after an hour or so,” he explained before biting into his pear. After swallowing, he added, “If I had known you were gonna go on for so long I’d have figured some other way to meet you.”
She lowered her head and turned away. “You don’t want to meet me, trust me.”
He chuckled lightly. “I just traveled for ten hours straight following you with that damn spell. You trust me, I want to meet you.”
It made no sense at all. She frowned and kept her back turned to him. “Well…what do you want?”
“You.”
She blinked and turned to give him a confused stare, then took a cautious step back. “Seriously?”
He broke into laughter. “Not like that!”
She sighed in relief, but realized she still didn’t understand. “Then like what?”
He’d taken another bite of his pear. He raised a hoof to indicate she should wait, chewed for several seconds and swallowed. “You’ve caught the attention of a few ponies,” he announced with a pleasant smile. “Some very important ponies. You’ve been hoof-picked, Lightning Dust.”
She eyed him warily, but her curiosity had been piqued. “Hoof picked by who?”
He leaned forward with a grin. “Me, for one.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, but you don’t want a loser like me.”
“You being a loser is actually part of the point.”
She raised her head at that, astonished at his directness. “What?”
He stood, pear finished, and began to pace. “You’re not a hero, Lightning. Or a champion. You’re always in second place, assuming you even finish. It’s truly astounding that a mare with your incredible skills just can’t seem to make the cut. Ever since they booted you from the Wonderbolt Academy for reckless behavior, you’ve been in a horrible rut.”
Nervous, perhaps even a little afraid, she took a few extra steps away from him. “You know a lot about me.”
He glanced at her, face still serious, still pacing. He was beginning to wear a line in the snow. “I know a lot more than you’d like. I know you still secretly blame Rainbow Dash for your expulsion. I know you’re afraid to go back to Foal Mountains, afraid to face your cousin who was so happy when you were accepted to the Academy, and afraid to face your fellows at the orphanage, the ones with the Wonderbolts posters all over their rooms. I know you decided to hide in Appleloosa, a place so remote, so dull that nobody would ever think to look for the exciting and energetic Lightning Dust there.”
“Shut up!” She turned from him, tears welling in her eyes.
For a moment he obeyed, giving her time to gain control of her emotions. She could hear the snow crunch beneath his hooves as he approached. “You’re a gifted pegasus, Lightning. One of the best I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot in my line of work. But you just can’t seem to get things right, can you?”
She dropped to the ground, legs too weak to support her weight. “I keep trying,” she whispered. “I tried so hard, but nothing ever works…” She kicked an angry hoof at the snow, white powder flying up in the air. “I’ll always be second place…”
Another long, patient silence.
“Do you still think you have something to offer Equestria?”
She didn’t understand the question. She considered it, pondering for some time. Then she rose on legs much less wobbly and turned to look at him. Really look. “Who are you?”
He reached into another pouch and pulled out something small. He tossed it, and it landed softly in the snow. She studied it, recognized it, and gave him an astonished look.
“There’s somepony out there who wants to give you a chance, Lightning. A real chance to show what you can do.” He stepped back and sat, gesturing for her to take the thing. She did. “Someday soon you’re going to receive a letter. It’s going to have that on it. When you get it, read it. Pay attention to it. Obey. You may finally have your opportunity to be recognized.”
Smoke began to billow around him.
“Wait!”
He was gone.
She sat in the cold snow, unbelieving. Who was he? She considered his words wonderingly. Could it be possible? Was there really a way for a pony like her to be all that she could be? Was she going to get a real, legitimate chance?
She looked down at the object, which she’d dropped in the snow at his departure. It was a tiny metal pin. On it was a crescent moon before a clear night sky.
It was the cutie mark – and therefore the crest – of Princess Luna of Canterlot.
Princess Luna
My apologies for contacting you by letter again with news. In this case I was forced to make a very long, unfortunate detour as part of my investigation, and it may be a full week before I can make it back to Canterlot.
I am extremely pleased to announce that I have located the fifth candidate. She was a rather surprising find, discovered during the testing phase of another potential whose results were…discouraging. I found that she’d been discontinued from further investigation at the earliest stages, as she was considered over-qualified for the role sought. After my chance encounter I had her re-investigated, and the results are amazingly promising. In all these investigations I have never seen a candidate more perfectly suiting what we have been looking for, and I am confident you’ll agree with me on this matter.
As before, you’ll find the full report attached with this letter. I look forward to discussing all five candidates for final approval upon my return.
I remain yours loyally,
Fine Crime
PS – Do you know of any chance there might be a road or railway being made to pass through the Surcingle Mountain Range to the Bay of Trotaloosa? I hope so. It would make traveling on missions like this one much easier.
Verity Fine had no idea what went wrong. Had they been caught in a storm? A rogue wave? Something else? He had no way of knowing. All he knew was that he’d fallen overboard.
And Verity couldn’t swim.
He kicked, he struggled, he tried crying out and gulped down salt water. He knew his mother had fallen off the boat too. He wanted to scream for her, for help, but every time his head surfaced and he opened his mouth he found himself underwater again.
This couldn’t happen! He was just a foal, he didn’t even have a cutie mark yet. Please, somepony help!
And then she was there: Mapleleaf. His eyes were shielded by her thick yellow coat as she clutched him close. They rose and splashed out of the water, matching red manes dangling wetly over their eyes.
Her firm voice rose over the crashing waves. “Don’t worry, baby, mommy’s got you!”
Verity coughed up water, his chest hurting and eyes stinging. He clutched at her with trembling hooves. “Momma, w-what’s happening?”
“I don’t know, baby,” she admitted, fear etched in her voice, “but it’s going to be okay. I promise, it’s going to be just fine!”
They rocked in the waves as she scoured the seas. Their eyes locked on the sailboat at the same time. “Fleur! Fleur, over here!”
Verity held on to his mother for dear life as he watched the boat amidst the churning, roiling waves. Fleurboard was at the helm. He was waving to them, letting them know he was coming.
Massive waves rose tall over the vessel. Sometimes Verity thought he wasn’t seeing a wave at all, but a massive tentacle. He told himself that was dumb, that there wasn’t anything that big in the seas.
But he was just a child, and a terrified child at that; his mind was running wild.
His mother was struggling to stay afloat and reassure him at the same time. “It’s alright, Daddy’s coming. We’ll both be alright…”
The sailboat came up to them, some twenty feet away. Fleurboard stumbled and tumbled across the deck, shouting something incomprehensible in the raging seas. He found a lifesaver float and tried to toss it, but slipped and fell. He struggled to his hooves, leaning heavily against the rocking ship's side. He stared at his family with big eyes through a moist yellow mane.
Then the wave came.
“Fleur, look out!”
The boat tipped, rose up and began to flip. Again Verity saw it: a giant, scaled tentacle in the night sky, as thick as the buildings of Las Pegasus. He was so focused on it he didn’t see the mast.
His mother did.
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and pushed him away. Verity kicked at the water in surprise—
—and Mapleleaf was gone. The mast crashed down into the water, right where he’d been – right where she was – and she was gone.
Verity screamed. It was all he could do before he went under.
He saw her several feet below him. Her horn was gone and there was an odd shape to her head. She was unconscious, blood pouring up from her ears, her eyes, her forehead. She looked so… calm.
Then Verity saw the thing. Massive eyes and fangs thicker than tree trunks. A face glistening with scales. A dragon’s head on a serpentine body that spread endlessly in the darkness, thick squirming pieces of it fading and appearing all around him in that quiet, black sea. Its yellow eyes glowed like gargantuan lamps, lamps focused upon the drifting form of his mother.
He wanted to help her, to swim down and rescue her, but even if he hadn’t been petrified with terror, he couldn’t have. Verity could only watch as the giant sea monster opened its mouth wide and swallowed her, a mere crumb to its size.
She was gone. Eaten by some demon even his child’s imagination never thought could exist... a demon that was setting those same hungry orbs on him. Suddenly, all Verity wanted to do was hide.
Hide forever.
Hide perfectly.
Hide from those hideous eyes.
But then the thing squirmed, its mouth clamping open and closed as it shook violently. Almost as if it were in pain. It dove, and just like that it disappeared; the waters around him were black and monster-free.
Yet there was still no Mapleleaf. She was gone… and that was all the evidence Verity needed to prove the thing real.
Something caught him; he was rising. He came out of the water with a splash and a cough, his father holding him just as tightly as his mother had. The sailboat was nowhere to be seen, it too having disappeared beneath the dark water’s surface. Verity realized that his father was weeping. It was the most terrible sound he’d ever heard.
He said nothing, thought nothing. He didn’t cry or scream. He only stared at the dark water, those terrible yellow eyes dominating his mind.
They were alone. Alone in a big, dark sea that had suddenly become so very, very calm.
It wasn’t like the beaches in photos and stories. It wasn’t covered in fine yellow sand, the waters weren’t blue. No, the water was a dismal brownish green, and instead of sand there was dirt, dirt caked into a nasty muddy mess where the waves lapped at the shore.
Verity didn’t want to move. Or think. Or talk. He just lay on his side in the dirt. He stared at the lapping waves, or followed with his eye the long line of seaweed that stretched on infinitely at the high-tide mark.
...or gazed out there, at the endless sea that had once been so fascinating.
He heard the unfamiliar sound of his father’s hooves squishing in the moist dirt. He didn’t bother to look.
Fleurboard set down a strange fruit, green and thick looking. Verity stared at it for a couple seconds. He turned away.
“It’s good,” his father ventured.
The colt just curled up a little more.
Fleurboard sighed and lay in the dirt with him, their matching, mottled brown bodies pressing together. “You have to eat, son. Please, just give it a try.”
Verity sniffed and said nothing.
His father rested his head gently on Verity's neck, nuzzling him for comfort.
“It’s okay, son. You’re okay…”
A day passed, and a night. Verity finally succumbed to hunger and tried the fruit found in the nearby woods. It was hard and tasteless, but it made the hunger go away. He began to join his father in exploring the area, though he couldn’t find anything interesting. They climbed a tall hill and discovered that they were on an island, uninhabited and unknown. His father didn’t speak for several minutes after the discovery, and that was worrying.
By the next morning, Fleurboard decided that they needed to find some sort of shelter. They began by following the beach. The pair traveled for many hours but could find nothing that might provide a safe place to stay.
Then they found the mast.
It was from their sailboat, there was no question. It still had a large part of the sail attached, which Fleurboard insisted was good news. With some effort, they managed to drag the thing away from the waters and to the edge of the forest, where they could be sure the high tide wouldn’t grab it back. Then they began removing the sail.
Verity worked the top of the mast while his father worked the bottom. It was a tedious process, but Verity was glad to have something to do. He struggled with the knot in his teeth, tugging and pulling and sweating. At last it came loose and he pulled the sail away. As he did he noted something embedded in the wood. Dropping the sail, he went to see what it was.
It was a unicorn’s horn.
A yellow one, pierced deep into the wood.
Fleurboard heard him crying and came to investigate. The sight of the horn rendered the stallion momentarily speechless. After a while he pushed Verity gently toward the sea.
“Go on, son. I… I’ll take over from here.”
Verity watched the waters again as Fleurboard buried the horn. He knew his father was crying. He didn’t go to help, or speak. He just stared at the sea, watching for rogue waves and yellow eyes and remembering her motherly face.
Two weeks, or so his father claimed. That’s how long they’d been living on the island. Together they’d managed to dig a hole and sink the mast into the ground, and used the sail as a makeshift tent. Other bits of debris washed up, which they used where they could. Hunger wasn’t a problem; though the grass was of some inedible variety, there was plenty of fruit on the island. Water had been an issue at first, but on the third night they’d discovered a freshwater spring deep within the forest.
Verity, ever wanting to be productive, kept busy exploring. He would find new fruits and plants and bring them back to camp to show his father, and together at night they’d study them. Fleurboard devoted his time gathering food or trying to come up with something to signal passing boats, not that they ever saw one. By the end of the third week he’d made a sign out of fallen limbs and branches for any pegasi patrols that might come by. He knew such patrols never flew through the Everfree Sea; it was considered too dangerous.
He thought Verity didn’t know, though, and the colt wasn’t about to correct him.
There were nights when Verity would wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, usually one involving lots of water and yellow eyes. On those nights he'd go out and stare at the waves again, wondering if there wasn’t something below watching him back. On some of these nights he’d spot his father at the grave he’d made and go sit with him. They never spoke during those times. They just took comfort in one another’s company.
Occasionally, Fleurboard would try to cheer his son up. Sometimes they would laugh and, for a tender moment, forget what was happening. Other times his jokes would fall flat, and they’d both feel miserable.
One day Fleurboard decided to go swimming. He did it for fun, to try and encourage Verity.
The colt was terrified. He could see those yellow eyes and that endless squirming mass. It was just beneath the waves, ready to take his father away too. He cried and begged and screamed, and finally Fleurboard came back to dry land.
He never tried swimming again.
It was on a rainy night after one of his nightmares that Verity found the chick. It was clearly just a baby, all fluff and down and no feathers. But it was big, about half as tall as he was. It had come into their makeshift camp to escape the rain and was shivering in a corner when he’d come to with a start and a barely-contained scream.
It was orange with scaly green legs and a matching beak. It looked about as scared as he’d felt at the time. He called it ‘Kit,’ for the funny sound it made. If his father had any concerns about the creature, he never showed it. Perhaps he thought Verity could use a friend.
Soon Verity and Kit were almost inseparable. They would go on long hikes in the woods. Verity would tell the bird bedtime stories, like his mother had for him. When they were alone he would talk about the great monster he’d seen beneath the waves, and how he’d not said a word of it to his father for fear that he wouldn’t be believed.
Kit always listened, and at times Verity almost swore the chick understood him.
Kit was also a playmate. The bird, though childish in behavior, seemed very smart. It had this neat trick where it would eat an object and spit out something entirely different. It would eat a leaf, then open its beak and a butterfly would flutter out. It swallowed a worm and out popped a blue ribbon. Once it even swallowed a snake that had scared Verity, and when it opened its mouth a moment later, the snake had become a frog. Sometimes Verity would feed it something and try to guess what would come out.
But Kit never did the mouth trick around Fleurboard.
Verity’s favorite game was hide and seek. It always had been, and he was incredibly good at it. Kit could find him, but only with a lot of effort. The bird could never stay hidden for long, but it had another neat trick up its sleeve; sometimes, when Verity was almost ready to pounce, Kit would see him coming and let out that strange Kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit-a sound, disappearing in a poof of feathers. This had scared Verity the first time it happened, but the chick always appeared not far away, its strange sound almost like laughter.
Verity thought it a very impressive trick. But again, Fleurboard never saw it.
The ship appeared on the horizon one windy morning in their third month on the island. Fleurboard managed to light the signal fire, a great mass of sticks and leaves and grass he’d been piling high since the very first day. Verity and Kit sat on the beach, watching as his father tended to the flames in an almost desperate manner.
The smoke rose high. They were noticed.
His father wept with joy when he saw the ship turning for them. He hugged Verity and Kit, he danced around like a fool, he praised Celestia.
Verity did none of those things. He only watched and waited, praying that no rogue waves would come up to smash the ship before it reached them.
Five ponies and seven nilgiri came ashore in a big lifeboat. They were very impressed with Fleurboard and Verity for having lasted so long, and were more than happy to take the two back to Equestria. But when the moment came for them to leave, Verity was nowhere to be found.
Fleurboard discovered him in the forest, lying under the shade of a palm tree.
“Verity, what are you doing? It’s time to go.” Verity shook his head, too afraid to move. “What’s wrong?”
The colt lowered his head, tears in his eyes. “I c-can’t, Dad… I don’t w-want to go on the w-water.”
His father took a long, calm breath. His moist eyes shined with sympathy. “Son, what happened… it was a rare event. It won’t happen again.”
But he hadn’t seen those eyes. He hadn’t seen her being devoured.
“Yes it w-will… i-it will…” Verity couldn’t move; he was trembling too much.
“Is something wrong?” One of the sailors, an orange-coated, green-maned pegasus mare, appeared from the direction of the shore.
“He’s just scared,” Fleurboard told her. “Give us a moment?”
The mare nodded, then cast a long gaze at Verity. Those pink eyes were startlingly familiar… but then she turned and went back to the shore.
Fleurboard touched Fine’s head, staring down at him with a lost expression. “Verity, we have to go back home.”
“No!” The colt turned away and dropped to his belly. “I’m not going. I want to stay here.”
His father sighed, considering him, and then slowly touched his horn to Verity’s.
The colt sensed the magic, could feel his eyes getting droopy.
“N-no…” Verity tried to shrug Fleurboard away. “I won’t sleep. I… Please… I don’t w-wanna go…”
His world went dark. His father gently lifted him up and brought him back to shore.
Soon the lifeboat, complete with seven nilgiri, eight ponies and no Kit, was making its way back to the ship.
Verity woke in his bed in a cold sweat, the searing image of yellow eyes and massive fangs fading from his mind. He fell back with a sigh and waited for his heart to stop pounding and his breathing to return to normal. Then he glanced at his bedside clock and saw that he was late for school.
Not that he’d intended to go, anyway.
Still, he was awake and had no interest in more nightmares, so he crawled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He combed his bright red mane, brushed his teeth and took a moment to stare at his reflection in the mirror.
Over a year since they’d come home. He was still a colt, still in elementary, still no cutie mark.
Verity meandered around the suite for a while, having a bite of toast for breakfast. Fleurboard was off at work, telling less artistically-inclined ponies how to decorate their homes. Their top floor, spacious apartment home was impeccable; his father had always preferred things clean and Verity had inherited the trait. Looking at the pictures, the carefully selected wallpaper and the painstakingly-chosen plants, it was easy to believe the place belonged to a popular interior designer.
And his brooding, introverted son.
Verity sat on the balcony, eyes roaming over Las Pegasus dully. He considered going to school. He’d missed the first two classes, but he could catch the rest. Generally speaking, he didn’t find school very helpful or interesting; he could learn just as much through personal study. School was boring, and Verity prided himself on his talent for self-learning. He only went on occasion to please his father.
No, not today. He grabbed his saddlebag, caught the elevator and began to wander the streets. He did this often, just exploring the urban maze.
Sometimes he would take out his notebook and write in his journal. It wasn’t the personal type of journal, like a diary. Oh no, he was studying: buildings and their shapes. How many windows and doors, what was the best way to get in without being detected? Were there any door ponies or staff in the front lobby? When did their shifts rotate? How close was the building to the police station and how often did patrols come by?
Ponies were targeted, too.
That mare on the bench by the carriage stop. Her clothes were high class, but the style was older, the fabric a bit worn. The strain in her voice revealed her to be lower class, trying to pass off the look. Lots of makeup, batting eyes. She was out for a stallion, looking to marry rich. And the stallion she was talking to, in his cheap suit designed to resemble wealth. The top hat was a rental, the tag barely sticking out of the back. Considering the cheap grease in his mustache and state of his overused suit, the hat had probably been stolen. His eyes kept going to her flank and he had that greedy, smooth smile. A con-artist, a tail-chaser or both. He was thinking he’d found an easy target.
They would both be in for a surprise.
Sometimes Verity went to a more quiet place, like the hidden alcove in the park. He would sit in the grass and open one of his other notebooks. He’d write his poetry about the sunny day, or the ponies he’d studied. Sometimes he’d try writing a story. Usually adventures, but sometimes a romance or a drama. There was always a darker theme to his tales, something hinting at a more corrupt element like death or cruelty. He could absorb himself in such things, sometimes writing all day long.
Today he did a little bit of both, and packed away his things just before twilight. He walked the back streets on his way home, ignoring the shady ponies that came out of places like this at night. He was known in this area, and nopony touched him. Not out of fear – he was only a colt, after all – but respect. He’d come to know these ponies, learned about them. To say he was friends with them was too strong; Verity Fine didn’t make friends. They were acquaintances.
Some had learned of his peculiar talents, his ability to study and learn just from quiet observation. A few used him; he would observe a house for an hour or two, and then tell a thief how best to get in and out without being caught. Things of that nature. He went along with it without fear or worry, because in truth he just didn’t care. The ponies using him wouldn’t hurt him; he was too useful. And what did he care if a few things were stolen? The previous owners should have been more careful about protecting their property.
So he was known, and generally liked, in this area of town.
But there was one pony he didn’t like. Nopony liked him, in fact. His name was Bitter Rumblings, and he was a pegasus with a crippled wing. He was also filthy rich, but nopony knew where the bits had come from. Several ponies had tried to break into his home to find his riches, and once or twice Verity had helped via his observation talent, but none had ever found anything in the place. He was a mean old stallion, lashing out at anypony who dared approach his home. He’d reportedly done many underhanded deeds and it was said that many of the homeless, poor ponies that lived in the area had been put in their position by his nefarious actions. Verity didn’t know if there was any truth to those rumors, but the stallion was hated nonetheless.
He was passing by the old house where Bitter lived. The stallion peered out his window, right on time. The bastard had a routine, always suspecting, always waiting for somepony to try and get into his place. Verity eyed the slightly opened curtain, sensing the pegasus’ gaze. Then the curtains closed, and Verity didn’t get so much as a peek at the codger.
“Little Mudpie,” a voice spoke from beside Verity. “Come to eye the old stallion, have we?”
He looked up to see an elderly green mare with a white mane cut extremely short. She had a scar running from the left corner of her lips all the way to her ear, a rather ugly decoration, and her eyes were hard as rocks.
“Hey, Sugarcube,” he replied calmly, glancing back at the house. “No, just passing by on my way home.”
They began to walk along the street. “You hear what happened yesterday?” she asked in her ever-serious voice.
“Nope.”
“Quickbeat tried to sneak into Bitter’s place while he was out.”
That had his attention. “Didn’t find anything, I presume?”
“Naw, nothing. Fool actually got caught,” Sugarcube chuckled, then hacked painfully. She went on once she had control of herself. “Stallion came zipping out of there with his mane on fire.”
“Seriously?” Verity tried to imagine the scene. “Is he gonna live?”
“Yeah, just got singed. He was lucky Pothole and Long John were nearby to put him out, though.”
In this part of Las Pegasus it was every pony for himself. Except where Bitter Rumblings was concerned; then it was one for all and all against one.
“All that mess,” she muttered, “and the jackass still keeps watching for predators. Nopony’s gonna go near that house anytime soon, not after that. Of course, Little Mudpie’s probably got his scheme all figured out by now.”
“Yeah,” Verity muttered without much interest, “I do.”
Then he paused.
“Yeah… I do.”
Inspiration had struck and he really wanted to act on it. His mind worked carefully for several seconds, and then he turned and strode down a side alley.
“Hey!” Sugarcube followed after him. “Why’d you come down here?”
“I’m gonna sneak in.”
“Sneak in where?” He heard her stop behind him. “In there? Are you crazy? You’re just a colt!”
She was walking next to him again. “Listen kid, normally I wouldn’t give a rat’s rump if somepony tried to go in there and got himself killed. We’re all crooks ‘round here. But you? I don’t feel right letting ya do it.”
“But you're going to let me,” Verity declared, turning a corner. “You will ‘cause you’re not going to risk your neck for mine.”
“I don’t intend to,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m trying to talk ya out of it. Ya got no backup, Mudpie, and Bitter has been known to defend his place lethally.”
He paused at the next corner; Bitter’s place was just out of sight. “Tell you what,” he whispered to her with a grin, “I don’t need the bits. If I find the stash, I’ll let you have it.”
She laughed hoarsely, which led to another hacking fit. “You won’t find it,” she uttered through the spittle.
“No, I won’t,” he agreed. “But I’m gonna take something, you watch me.”
“You’re gonna get killed,” she corrected sourly, “and then your father’s gonna jump out that fancy suite to the streets below.”
That made Verity pause. He gave her a dark look and thought on her warning. But something was telling him to do this. He had to… he needed to.
“I won’t get caught,” he whispered, and was off.
He was at a corner; there was a window on the opposite side. This he knew from his observations. Verity also knew that at any second Bitter was going to prepare a bath. And, just a few seconds later, the window opened. Verity waited to hear the water running, to see the steam flowing out the window. He made his move, climbing in swiftly.
He was in a large bathroom, though not as big as somepony might think for a stallion with so many bits. Verity didn’t have to check to know that Bitter was behind the shower curtain; he went to the bathroom door and left.
He was alone in the big house and was almost sick with nerves. He’d helped others and watched them work, but he’d never tried this himself. He’d expected fear. He didn’t have it. Nervous? Yes. Excited? Definitely. Afraid? Not so much.
He explored the house, pulling out his notebook and quill. He recorded everything; where was the furniture, what drawers held the clothes, the color of the wallpaper, everything. He discovered a safe behind a picture, but he was no safecracker, so he merely jotted its location and appearance and slipped the picture back in place.
Bitter came out of the bath after around thirty minutes, more or less on schedule. Verity observed him from behind a door as he went to check his windows. His snooping routine, which the colt had down to exacting memory. Verity followed behind, recording the pegasus’ actions, jotting down times when he could.
He only came close to being caught once, when he’d tried to hide in a closet full of old musty coats. As luck would have it, the stallion went to the closet to grab one. Verity kept low as the grey pegasus scoured the closet, grumbling indecipherably. Realizing his position was too dangerous, Verity took a risk and slipped out between the stallion’s legs. He thanked Celestia he was still a tiny colt and managed to creep his way to another room just as the stallion found the coat he was looking for.
He thought perhaps that Bitter was going out, which would have made his task easier. Instead the pegasus went to his living room at the entrance of the house and sat in a big, ancient-looking chair facing the door.
Ah, Verity remembered watching him do that from a window. He was guarding against intruders. Talk about paranoid… but then he had good reason, considering every crooked pony in the city wanted to find his stash.
Verity wasn’t interested in riches. He wasn’t even sure what had made him want to do this… at first.
But now he realized something: he was having fun. It was like a game of hide and seek, but with much higher stakes, and he was good at it. He was thrilled to think that he was going to do this and get away scot-free! He felt more entertained than he had since… since…
…since playing with Kit.
The thought sobered him a little, but he shook himself and focused on the task at hoof. He’d been through every room in the house, and it was about time he’d made his exit. But he remembered his words to Sugarcube, and he wasn’t about to fail. He needed to steal something, but what?
A strange sound came from the living room. He listened carefully, then peeked around the corner at Bitter. The old pony was snoring.
Why that clever old pegasus! All this time he had everypony thinking he was keeping a vigilant watch on the door, and he was really just taking a nap. Verity might have laughed if he weren’t still in the house.
Then he had an idea. He studied the stallion for several seconds, making his notes. Old style of hat, but very new and with a fabric he knew from his father’s work was expensive. Wicker pipe from a bygone era hanging from his open mouth, unlit. And that mane… a pony that old should have grey all over his head, but Bitter’s mane was pitch black. And shiny. And there was something a little off in its…
A wig.
Verity knew what he wanted to steal.
He sneaked about the house to the door behind the sleeping pegasus. He used his magic carefully, so very very carefully, to lift the hat. Then he took the bottom of the stallion’s wig in both hooves and gently, so very gently pulled it down. It flopped to the floor; Bitter shifted, mumbled and went right back to snoring. Verity slowly let the hat float back onto his head, caught the wig up and retreated quietly, stealthily back to the bathroom.
As he slipped out of the window he couldn’t help feeling elated. He’d pulled it off! The most dangerous pony in the bad side of Las Pegasus, and he’d pulled it off! He could sneak, he could hide. He almost imagined he could be invisible! He pranced back to the alley, where Sugarcube was sitting on her rump with eyes wide.
“You… you didn’t get caught,” she muttered in amazement. “And what is that thing you took?”
Verity dropped the wig before her and she studied it up close in her hooves. “Is that… a mane?”
“Bitter’s bald,” the colt declared with a grin. “Took it right off his maneless scalp.”
Sugarcube laughed. She laughed and laughed and hacked painfully, then when her throat was cleared she laughed some more.
When she finally finished, she wiped the tears from her eyes and noticed Verity ripping pages out of his notebook. “W… what’s that?” she asked breathlessly.
“Here.” Verity offered the notes to her and she examined them for a few seconds. “You can have them. Give them to whoever wants to go in next.”
Her eyes went wide once again as she studied his carefully-constructed writing. “Mudpie… you did all this while you were in there?
“Wow.” She sat on her haunches again, dumbstruck. “Do you know what a bad pony could do with information like this?”
“Yeah,” he answered, grinning from ear to ear. “I sure do.”
She studied the notes again, whispering some of the words to herself. “This is a fine crime, Mudpie. A fine crime, indeed.”
He put his notebook away, beaming. “I’ve got to get home; it’s late and my father’s going to be worried sick. But… wow that was fun!”
“Not just fun,” she said, eyeing his flank studiously. She poked it with a hoof. “I daresay you’ve got a gift, Mudpie.”
He blinked and shifted to look at his flank. For a moment he didn’t see anything different. But then Sugarcube traced a circle, and he focused on that spot. There it was, so perfectly hidden even he’d had trouble seeing it: a cutie mark in shape of a pony, perfectly camouflaged to hide in his mottled coat.
Verity couldn’t have been happier.
His father would be horrified.
He wasn’t a colt anymore. He was tall, and a bit thin. His gift for stealth had developed phenomenally. He’d begun dying his mane and tail black to make it easier to disappear in the shadows. It helped, for his introverted nature had also developed, and he determinedly avoided most other ponies. Even his father.
He spent his days in bed and his nights sneaking about the city. No building was safe from his searching, no security arrangement could hold him back. He never stole things, he wasn’t in it for that. He just liked to do it, liked the sense of power it gave him to know that he could enter any room with impunity. How many sleeping heads had he stood over, taking his quiet notes? How many windows slipped through, how many locks picked?
Slipping through shadows wasn’t the only way to hide. He’d learned others. Snatching a fine coat to blend in with the elitists in a crowd, learning their speech patterns and high-society concerns, returning the coat and disappearing before anypony had noticed. He could walk right up to a police pony and chat him up, stealing his baton and returning it to the officer’s home before he’d even known it was gone; oops, I guess I really did forget to bring it with me this morning.
It was amusing.
It was also unfulfilling.
Nothing he did seemed to make a difference. Every day he practiced and grew better at his gifts, and every day he had nothing to show for it. There were no paying jobs for a master sneaker. None within the boundaries of law, at any rate, and he was determined to stay within that boundary. Trespassing excepted, of course. He wasn’t hurting anypony, but he wasn’t helping anypony either. It all made his life feel pointless.
He still wrote sometimes, on those occasions when he’d wake up in the night and not feel up to his usual wanderings. His writing had matured like everything else, both in style and content. A favorite topic was the Dark Archons, the alleged spy organization that all practical-thinking ponies knew didn’t exist. Generally speaking, Verity was very much a practical-thinking pony, but it was still nice to imagine joining them and his stories often reflected that.
He had no illusions to what kind of organization the Archons might be. An elite, honorable force fighting for the good of all and Princess Celestia? That was the thinking of some over-imaginative foal high on bedtime stories. No, he envisioned a darker, seedier organization, the kind willing to do all the worst things if it meant the betterment of Equestria. Verity believed in a harsh world, because he’d seen the harsh half, the rusted and worn metal hidden beneath the shiny, lacquered veneer.
There was one pony he still visited from time to time: Sugarcube. She was getting on in years, but hadn’t grown any softer with age. She’d lost an eye recently in a fight with a unicorn stallion over some clothes both wanted for a more survivable winter. She’d still won the fight, though; she kept his horn on a necklace as a souvenir. Once every month or so he’d go to her place and they’d catch up on the latest news or his stealthy developments. She never admitted it, but he knew she was fond of his visits. She was harsh, but she alone seemed to understand him.
He still lived with his father. Fleurboard couldn’t grasp his son’s behavior. Verity could tell the old stallion thought he had become a criminal, though there was no proof of such a thing. Some nights the stallion would stay up late just to see Verity when he awoke, and try to engage him in conversation, try to help with the problem he couldn’t figure out. Perhaps he thought he was failing as a father. That wasn’t the case at all; Verity loved the stallion. He just… didn’t like to talk.
At times like those Verity would often be reminded that he understood himself about as little as his own father did. A troubling thought. Sometimes he wanted to reassure the old stallion, to express his affection, but he was never able to bring the words from his mouth. So he’d leave the suite, guilt hanging over his head like a blanket.
So this was his life. He wandered the streets of Las Pegasus, slipping between the shadows or faking his way through some local event the Important Ponies were putting on, always feeling like he could be doing something else but never knowing what. Was he lonely? Was he bored? Did he have some hidden, unspoken ambition that needed fulfilling?
He was lost. In the great city he’d come to know like the back of his hoof. In the great maze of life.
He was lost.
He was sneaking around an elite mare’s home one night. He didn’t bother taking notes, for he’d been through this house a few times in the past. He was bored, just looking for something to do. He was also a little troubled; lately he’d been having strange dreams. The yellow eyes and feeling of drowning he understood, but in the past few months something new was stirring in his head. In his nightmares he kept seeing red, and images of death.
These images frightened him. He believed he was a good pony, or as good as a pony in his position could be. He fretted that he might be losing his mind from boredom, or that perhaps his stories were having some weird effect on his brain. It seemed that lately he’d begun developing a fascination for the morbid, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Maybe he was off in the head. It would certainly explain the unorthodox direction his entire life had taken. Perhaps he should have himself committed.
But for now he kept to his usual routine, and tonight that meant shadowing around some unsuspecting mare’s home. Why here? Why not? Maybe it was just her turn.
He wandered through the spotless kitchen, glum gaze passing over the fine china in the glass-doored cupboard, mind taking disinterested notice of the silverware drying by the sink. His head was wandering when he opened the door to the bedroom. He glanced through her closet, taking note of the new clothing and what it might mean in her life. His mental catalog sorting, analyzing, theorizing. The automatic tik-tok of his brain.
He paused by the bed, observing the mare in her pristine sleep. She was pretty, which for him didn’t amount to much. Blue with a white mane. She shifted in the bed, front hooves clutching the pillow to her head, a faint smile on her lips. There was something interesting there, he could feel it. But he couldn’t place it.
The vision came slowly, like a ghost upon his mind. He recalled the big knife drying by the sink, could feel himself going to get it. It was hard in his hooves, strangely comforting in its weight. He sneaked his way back, little more than a shadow in the night. He watched, breath coming slow and heavy as she shifted, a strange elation rising in him.
He bent down and slit her throat.
Eyes opened, pain and shock as she stared up at her murderer. Her mouth opened to scream, but only a faint gurgling escaped her lips. The blood formed a pretty line down her neck. She touched at it with her hooves, struggling to breathe. Tears were forming. Her wide brown eyes, beautiful in their terror, stared up at him as if begging for help. Or, perhaps, to ask why.
The sounds, the sights, the blood. Beautiful. Engrossing. Entertaining. A shiver of joy the likes of which he’d never felt washed over him—
—and then the vision passed. The mare was still sleeping, clueless in her bed. There was no blood.
But there was a knife.
He dropped it, a sudden and intense horror filling him. It stuck in the hardwood floor with a quiet ‘thunk.’
He’d almost done it. By all that was holy, he’d almost done it!
His mind was clouded by fear and disgust at his near-misdeed. He was hyperventilating, struggling to breathe, sweat pouring down his face. That horrible, horrible image was seared into his mind. Her eyes… her terrible eyes. And the worst thing of all: the insidious, demonic pleasure that had coursed through him.
He ran. He didn’t bother with silence. He just ran.
He was sick. Sick in the head.
He was at his desk, head in his hooves and tears streaming down his face. Before him was a book, thick and old and not his own. He’d taken it from a library years ago, thinking it might be useful. Now it was confirming that the nightmare was real.
Bloodmane. The very name sounded like a curse.
If he was right… if he’d acquired this ridiculously rare mental illness… he would kill. It was only a matter of time. The visions would continue, the nightmares pressure him to act. He’d do the deed, because it was instinctual, hard-wired into his mental programming.
He wasn’t a murderer. He repeated the words in his head over and over again, silently begging for them to be true. He’d trespassed into ponies homes, played little games. He wasn’t a criminal. He wasn’t a killer! He was a good stallion. He didn’t want to hurt anypony!
He had to be wrong. The medical book was old, perhaps it was in error. Perhaps there was some other explanation for that terrible vision.
Maybe he was just insane.
He needed help. There had to be somepony out there who knew what he was going through, who could tell him what was really going on. Something other than him being a… monster.
His father. Fleurboard loved him. He could at least provide comfort, maybe point him in the right direction. The stallion would be asleep, of course.
So Verity got up and went to his father’s room. He paused at the closed door, listening to the faint sound of Fleurboard’s snoring. That familiar guilt crept to his mind. How could he ask the stallion for help, after how cold he’d been in the past few years?
No, this was too important to hold back from guilt. He had to resolve this now.
Mind made up, he opened the door. He should have called out, tried to wake the unicorn. But old habits were hard to break; he sneaked his way through the shadows, avoiding the light from the window, and stood next to the old stallion in his sleep. He considered his words. How to begin? How to tell his father about this new horror? Perhaps he could—
Perhaps he could take the other pillow and apply it to Fleurboard’s face. Watch him squirm and kick in futility while he slowly suffocated. Take intense pleasure in seeing him grow weak and feeble and slack. And then, when he was almost gone, remove the pillow and do something more bloody. Delightfully, gloriously bloo—
He fell back, the vision fading as fast as it had come. He collapsed to his belly on the floor and covered his eyes, weeping.
Fleurboard heard, stirred, sat up.
Verity was already gone.
Not a killer. He was not a killer. He was a good stallion. Different, strange, but good.
He was not a killer.
The bad side of town, in a small alley behind a trash dump. He couldn’t remember how he’d got there, didn’t care. He kept repeating the words in his head, over and over and over again.
He was not a killer.
Rain was falling in a downpour. His black mane hung low over his unfocused eyes, the dye slowly fading from the moisture. It didn’t matter. Only the mantra mattered.
He was not a killer.
“Mudpie?”
The voice jerked him from his silent reverie. A pair of green hooves obscured his view of the hard concrete. He reached a hoof to move the mane from his face, glanced up forlornly. White mane, one eye missing, hideous scar. Sugarcube.
“Keep away from me,” he whispered, bowing his head again.
“More pleasant than your usual greeting,” she replied, tone dry. “You look like you’ve been put through the wringer. Repeatedly.”
He tried to press himself into the wall, to hide. He shivered against the cold rain.
“Are ya gonna tell me what’s wrong with you or not?”
“Go away…”
A long, tedious, unpleasant pause. He refused to look at her again, refused to chance another of those terrible visions.
“Well fine, if you don’t want my help,” she growled. “Just trying to be a concerned citizen and all. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, brat!” She whacked him on the head.
“Just leave me alone!” he snapped, glaring at her.
She glared right back. “If you think I’m gonna ignore the one pony in this wreck of a city who ever did anything nice for me, you’re more off your rocker than I thought.”
He groaned as she tried to help him stand. He allowed himself to be lifted to all fours, keeping his head down…
…and then he thrust forward, his horn stabbing into her throat.
Sugarcube let out a surprised sound that had a strange sort of whistling quality to it. She reared back and touched at her throat, mouth gasping, chest heaving for air that wouldn’t come. A step back, two, and she fell. He watched, trembling in elation as she squirmed on her backside, struggling against death. It was such a delightful dance. It made him groan at the morbid pleasure of it.
Sugarcube slowed, hacked, waved a weak hoof at him for help. At last she went still.
He waited for the vision to end, standing there in the pouring rain. He stared at the body lying in the dirty water, the elation and joy steadily slipping away.
And then he realized.
“Sugarcube…?”
He walked over her body and studied her wide-eyed, frozen face. He touched her with his hoof, but there was nothing.
He wanted to scream. He couldn’t. The sound wouldn’t come. All he got was a hoarse wind.
He dropped on top of her body, weeping. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!”
He was a monster. Sick in the head. The most horrible pony in existence! How could he have done it, how? He meant to do it, but he hadn’t meant to do it!
He sat up and wiped the tears from his face, noted the blood on his hooves. He looked up, crossing his eyes to observe his horn. The rain was washing the blood from it, running it down his face. He felt sick to his stomach, frantically scrubbing to get the horrible stuff off of him.
He sat there in that alley for a long time, staring at her body. His mind – his practical, analytical, studious mind – was swimming with thoughts and theories and scenarios.
Suicide? No, too easy an escape for his misdeed.
Incarceration? No, his instinct would be escape, and he was certain to succeed.
Self-committed? No, there was no cure.
He had to leave. To go far away, to someplace where nopony ever went, where he wouldn’t be a threat to anypony. Maybe that place didn’t exist. Maybe he’d find absolution in the search. Maybe he’d succeed, and just disappear into the unknown voids of the world. Whatever the conclusion, he couldn’t stay here.
He stood over Sugarcube, studied her miserably for several long seconds. She was his first. He could only pray she would be his last. He needed a reminder, so he took the necklace around her neck, the one with the unicorn horn she’d won. A morbid reminder of his morbid deed. Perhaps with that he could recall his horror and never do this again.
He walked away, head low, necklace dangling from his neck like a bloody pendulum. His journey for self-destruction had begun. He could no longer be Verity Fine. That was who he used to be, back when he was still a foal.
What was that she’d said to him before?
It was a fine crime.
Fine Crime.
A damning name. Guilty by etymology. How perfectly suitable.
Saddle Arabia. A village called Kathiawari, long after sundown. It was a peaceful, quiet place along a river, its green floodplain a stark contrast to the surrounding desert. The peaceful nature of this town was going to be shattered by morning. Fine Crime knew it; he would be the one doing the shattering.
He was perched atop one of the yellow-bricked buildings, observing the town below with expectant eyes. From his throat hung a necklace, at the bottom of which was a knife made from a black unicorn’s horn. He bounced the knife against his hoof, a habit he’d developed in the past two years for when his urges were strong.
Tonight those urges were very strong indeed. For the past week he couldn’t so much as look at another pony without seeing blood. He needed a victim. Tonight, and no later.
But who to target? A place as small as Kathiawari didn’t have the same kind of scum he was used to dispatching in the cities. If he was going to do this, he wanted it to be against somepony other ponies would be glad to see gone. A thief, a bully, a villain. He was having trouble finding somepony like that here. If he didn’t find one soon he’d have to target somepony more innocent, and he hated having to do that. If only he’d been able to reach Neighro…
He was up there for hours, moving from roof to roof, looking for a potential victim. The headaches – the first sign of withdrawal – were much stronger tonight. He’d learned the symptoms early, when he’d fought so hard to avoid his instincts. He learned just as early that he couldn’t possibly defeat them.
He was just beginning to consider entering a random home when he heard the racket. He moved to the edge of the house he was on and watched as Arabian security officers chased a brown-robed pony. The gears Fine’s head began to turn as he took in the style of the robe’s design, its age, its fabric, its form. The pony was carrying something, a satchel of some sort that hung from his – her? – neck like an oversized necklace. The robes suggested the pony was from one of the nomadic tribes that wandered the deserts.
A thief. Perhaps something more, Fine couldn’t be sure at this distance. The fugitive was easily keeping ahead of the officers. Fine watched the fleeing pony weave through the streets and alleys, the officers struggling to keep up with the fleet-footed crook.
He would do.
Fine began to follow the chase, sticking to the rooftops, observing how the pony made his decisions. He began picking out the thief’s routes, trying to guess which way he’d go. After a while he started to get some right. Not long after he had the pony’s tricky maneuvers worked out. The officers, on the other hoof, were falling behind very quickly.
The thief kept moving, even after he’d lost his pursuers. Playing it safe, it seemed. Fine Crime kept up with him, slipping through shadows and behind walls and over rooftops. He’d a lot of practice in the past two years, and plenty of endurance. He could almost see the blood staining the pony’s robes…
At last the pony stopped, hiding in a dead-end alley. A terrible place to pause if one knew he was being followed.
Fine Crime was perched on the roof of one of the buildings, body low, eyeing the pony from above. The robe was pushed back, revealing a zebra mare. Fine analyzed her as she dropped to her haunches and began to sift eagerly through her satchel.
The vision came. He followed it almost immediately; the knife was held aloft by magic just before his eyes. He kept an eye closed. Focus… Focus…
The blade shot through the air, embedding itself in the mare’s spine. Even as it did, Fine dropped from the roof. The zebra stumbled, made a sound of quiet alarm and tried to turn on her attacker even as her paralyzed back legs dropped from under her. He landed on top of her. She let out a cry and tried to strike him with the back of her head, but missed. She tried to shove him off; he grabbed the satchel, jerked it back, stood.
The zebra let out a pained gasp as the strap pressed against her throat, but she managed to struggle free. Fine shifted, using all his strength to shove her sideways against the wall. With a free hoof he spun the satchel, twisting the strap, then jerked it back against her throat once more.
It was over. She was pinned to the wall, unable to move her back legs. Her front legs squirmed and kicked, but couldn’t get hold of him or the strap. She was a fighter; she tried pushing against the wall. He held the strap tight and pushed her right back against it. She kept trying, but his hold was too strong, and she was rapidly losing air. As she slowed, he used his magic to jerk the knife from her back.
Then he went to work with it.
When the deed was done and the gloriously happy sensations went away he found himself covered in blood, the zebra a nasty mess on the alley floor. He turned away and vomited.
For a moment he remained leaning against the wall, sweating from exertion, shaking with self-loathing. After two years, he was still disgusted by his murderous instincts. Always hating his existence, only to be so exhilarated when the time came to do the deed.
He knew better than to linger. He took the satchel and disappeared onto the rooftops. It was the usual routine: commit the deed, gather what could be gathered for survival, go to the next town. In a town as small as this, that last part was essential.
But there was no food or stolen goods in the satchel. No, nothing at all like that. He pulled the object out with his teeth and set it down on the ground before him. He stared in stunned silence at the beauty of it.
It was a crown. Golden with a ring of tiny rubies all along the bottom, and bright diamonds nestled in front. It was in the Equestrian style, and it was gorgeous. What in the name of Celestia was that thief doing with something like this?
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
If he were any other pony, Fine might have leapt up in the air in surprise. Instead, he merely turned about swiftly, ready for the attack.
The speaker was a dark grey pegasus wearing an old black coat and glasses; he was tall, big and friendly looking. He also had a bright pink mane that was so hideous Fine thought his eyes might start bleeding. He raised a calming hoof. “Whoa, slow down. I come in peace.”
Right. Fine kept on alert, eyes darting around to check for exits and other ponies that might be backing the stallion up.
“That was fine work back there,” the stallion said, standing on his hind legs to lean back against the wall at the roof’s edge. “Messy, but well done.” Fine kept silent, and the pegasus frowned critically. “You’re about as quiet as the file claims.”
File?
“Oh, got your attention there,” he declared with a grin. “While I’ve got it, I’m Hoofknife. Not my real name, granted, but it suits me well. Your name, on the other hoof, is a stroke of genius. Fine Crime. Wish I’d thought of that!”
Now Fine was truly alarmed. He took a few careful steps back, picking up the crown with his magic.
“Do be careful with that,” Hoofknife said with visible worry in his eyes. He dropped back to four hooves. “If we lose it the Princess will have my head.”
Princess?
“Celestia, of course.”
Fine Crime didn’t believe a word of it. He could smell a trap.
“Do you even know what that is? You don’t, do you? That’s the crown of the Unknown Princess.”
He’d never heard of her.
Hoofknife nodded, as if acknowledging what was in Fine’s head. “She was from a time long ago, before even the reign of Discord. You do know who Discord was, don’t you?”
He did. Vaguely. Fine studied the crown, but couldn’t tell if it was old or not. If it really did date to the time before Discord, it would be well over thirteen hundred years old. Which meant either the crown had been extremely well-kept, or Hoofknife was lying. Obviously it was the latter.
A few seconds of silence passed, then Hoofknife waved dismissively. “Look, the history of the crown’s not important. What is important is that we need to bring it back to Equestria, where it belongs. That’s a national heirloom, you know.”
He wanted it? He’d have to let Fine go, first.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You, Fine Crime, are a pony of so many talents.” Hoofknife indicated a large size with his hooves. “You know I’ve got a file with your name on it in my office back home this big? I have to admit, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for some time.”
Fine was tired of these stories. “What do you want?”
“He speaks!” Hoofknife clapped his hooves as if something very impressive had just happened. “I was beginning to think you’d gone mute. That would have made things a bit awkward.”
Fine wasn’t laughing.
The pegasus sobered quickly, his face serious. “Alright then, if that’s how you want to do it. Let me tell you some things, Fine. We know lots of things about lots of ponies. Our information network spans the known world. If I had the file on me I could tell you the life history of the stallion living in the house we’re standing on.”
“Mares.”
“Excuse me?”
“The ponies living in this house are a pair of mares. Fooling fillies.”
Hoofknife reared back and pointed at him with both hooves. “That! That’s what I want! You’ve got gifts, Fine Crime. As I was saying, we have files that explain the entire life of some ponies. We’ve been watching you for the past year and a half, though, and there are huge chunks missing from your file. Why? Because you’re so good at hiding! One day our file says you’re in Trottingham, and next week you’re in New Horseleans! You evade our information network like a pro, and you don’t even know you’re under surveillance! It’s inspiring.”
Fine Crime glanced around in perplexity. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, and your future.” Hoofknife sat, his expression serious once again. “Your past, too. We know you’re a bloodmane.” Fine shifted at that. “We know you need to kill once a month to satisfy the bloodlust, or suffer horrible withdrawal symptoms. We suspect the seed for that came when your mother died in that unfortunate sailing accident—”
“That was no accident!”
The stallion paused, seeming to have been caught off guard. He considered Fine, cocking his head. “Is that so?”
Fine Crime cursed himself for having said it. He’d not told anyone what he’d seen, not since Kit. He wasn’t about to break his silence now. “You wouldn’t believe me,” he muttered, “but it was no accident.”
“You’d be surprised at what I would believe, Fine Crime.”
Yeah right. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re after – really – so I can get on with my disappearing act.”
“Oh yes, run away.” The pegasus sneered. “Just keep on hiding, as you’ve been doing all your life. A meaningless existence living on the blood of the dregs of society. But we know that you want to do more. You want to have a purpose. I am here to offer you such an opportunity.”
Fine almost laughed at that. “Am I hearing this right? Are you trying to offer me a job?”
But Hoofknife wasn’t smiling. “No, Fine Crime, I’m offering you an apprenticeship. With the Dark Archons of Equestria.”
Fine sagged and turned aside. “That’s a bad joke.”
“It’s no joke, Verity Fine Crime of Las Pegasus. The Archons are real. We serve Equestria in the shadows, under Princess Celestia’s banner.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“But you want to,” Hoofknife pointed out. “You’ve longed for an opportunity like this. You’d be a fool to pass it up, just as I’d be a fool not to make the offer.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to recruit for an organization that thrives on absolute anonymity and the veil of nonexistence? It’s a nightmare; the training, the testing, the loyalty games, the indoctrination. Equestria loses fifty ponies each year just to our training. So when we find a pony like you – self-trained, phenomenally talented, already off the grid, dying for some personal meaning – we pay attention.”
Fine Crime stared in quiet, calm shock. This stallion was serious. Dead serious.
“You’ve got all the self-made qualifications of a senior field agent,” Hoofknife concluded. “You just killed a known nomad criminal who has been eluding us for seven months. We lost thirteen agents to that zebra, and you took her down alone in five minutes. I saw you do it. It was supposed to be my job. I. Want. You.”
Fine still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Really, he couldn’t. “I still don’t believe the Archons exist. I don’t think I’m going anywhere with you.” He used his magic to toss the crown to the pegasus, who caught it in his teeth with an alarmed look.
Hoofknife set the crown down very carefully. “I told you to be careful with that thing!”
He straightened up quickly, though. “Look, Fine, I understand. Your entire life’s been one big disappointment, and the Archons have always put a priority on secrecy. Nopony believes in us because we don’t want them to. But think about it anyway: a salary that makes your father seem like a pauper, the responsibility of protecting Equestria from its enemies, working in the name of Princess Celestia herself. Your life can have some meaning!”
Fine Crime had had enough of these blatant lies; he turned and prepared to leave.
“How about a chance for your killings to serve a purpose?”
The bloodmane paused.
“You kill because you have to. There’s no meaning to the endless death that surrounds you, no purpose save to slake your desires. We can give you the opportunity to use your murderous instinct for something other than wanton violence. What if you had the chance to give your bloodmane problem a productive use?”
That sounded far too good to be true. But…if there was even the slightest chance… “Productive…murder?”
“We’re an espionage organization, Fine,” Hoofknife pointed out with ominous intent. “Assassination is part of our purview.”
Fine Crime turned back to the stallion, mind churning. He’d already analyzed the pegasus, and could find nothing to prove or disprove what he was saying. He didn’t believe it, he couldn’t.
But he was going to kill anyway. He had to. If he could turn that terrible instinct of his into something productive to somepony, that would be better than the state he was in now. And if he was doing for Princess Celestia?
Did that make it good? Could killing be qualified as good?
He approached the pegasus slowly. “I still don’t believe in the Archons.”
Hoofknife nodded. “But you’ll come with me?”
“I’ll come,” he agreed. “Anything is better than this.”
“Let me get this straight.” Hoofknife peered at Fine. “You’re not getting on the boat.”
Fine Crime was on his haunches, staring at the ship bound for Equestria. He was paralyzed. “No.”
The pegasus stalked back and forth in frustration. “The file said you were afraid of the open water, but this is far more than I expected. You’re really not going to get on the boat?”
“I can’t,” he whispered. Even after all these years, those eyes still terrified him.
Hoofknife threw up his hooves in exasperation. “Of course not. Fine, there are no land routes from Saddle Arabia to Equestria!”
“I’m aware.”
“Then how do you expect to get back to Equestria?!”
He had no answer. He only stared at that ship, fighting to keep tears from his eyes.
Hoofknife sighed and sat in front of him. “How did you get over the ocean in the first place?”
“Accident,” Fine answered feebly. “A very scary, terrible accident.”
“Well, do you have any suggestions?”
Fine shook his head slowly. “Nope.”
Hoofknife rubbed his hooves against his head, thinking hard. Then he gained a hopeful expression. “I could have the ship’s nurse cast a sleeping spell, then haul you onboard.”
“Father did that once,” Fine admitted. “Wouldn’t speak to him for a wee – couldn’t, I was too busy crying in a tiny ball under the bunk, waiting to die.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Hoofknife declared, hopping to gain flight. “You wait right here, or you can forget about joining up!” He was gone to the ship.
No. No, no, no, he couldn’t do this. Fine still remembered his last experience, when he’d gone to bed in what he’d thought was an abandoned freighter only to wake in the middle of the Atprancic Ocean. His panic attack was so fierce the crew had to tie him down for the duration of the trip.
Nopony understood. They hadn’t seen that massive monster beneath the waves, it’s huge fangs and glowing yellow eyes. They hadn’t seen their mothers swallowed whole by a beast that could make hundred-foot waves on a whim. They didn’t know what lurked under the oceans’ depths.
He knew, and to this day it filled him with unbridled, uncontrollable horror. He couldn’t go out on the open ocean. He didn’t believe in the Archons anyway, so what did he have to lose? Just turn and disappear in the shipyards. The next time Hoofknife found him he’d be in some city hundreds of miles away…
He bowed his head, ready to abandon everything in his misery. But there was that knife, still dangling from his neck. He remembered Sugarcube and how meaningless her death had been.
Bloodmane. It was his curse. This was his chance to give that curse meaning. All those ponies he’d killed over the past two years had died for no reason. He didn’t want any more to die pointlessly.
He had to stay. Though it required the tightest control of every muscle in his body not to bolt, he had to stay.
He was so glad when the nurse finally came out with Hoofknife to put him to sleep. As he began to nod off, he hoped and prayed that this journey was worth it.
Eastern Equestria, in the countryside. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and Fine Crime was beneath the shade of a tall pine. He stood perfectly still, concentrating on his magic. He’d been waiting for hours, determined to move as little as possible during the wait. He was suffering from a terrible migraine, and he knew what it meant. His companions had told him he was just suffering from using too much magic. He knew better. He’d tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen, and they put him in the kill zone.
Kill zone. If only they knew.
So he stood there, trying to ignore everything but the path ahead and his spell. It took all his focus not to lose his control. He’d been holding it for so long… His magical endurance was improving, but this was one hell of a way to show it.
Voices. Hoofsteps. He watched, fighting to not wipe the sweat from his brow. There they were, two stallions. He recognized them from a week of careful observation. He prepped himself, watching intently. Not yet… Not yet…
Now.
He released the spell, and the two stallions found themselves surrounded by five ponies. Weapons were drawn. One of the ambushers tried to speak, and got cut down for his trouble. The battle began. It was short and bloody.
To Fine’s shock, one of the stallions was getting away, abandoning his fatally-wounded ally. The other ponies were all hurt and in no shape to follow; this fellow was damn good. Fine gave chase, leaving his team behind. They’d been stalking these ponies for weeks, and he wasn’t about to let one escape!
The stallion had run off into the woods. The area was thick with vines and shrubs and fallen logs, making the chase difficult for them both. But Fine was catching up, and his quarry knew it. Finally, when there was enough room to pull out his spear, the stallion turned to face the pursuing unicorn.
Fine paused just out of range, observed his opponent coolly for a moment. The stallion grinned confidently, taunting and goading Fine to approach. Fine sat on his haunches, shook his head in annoyance, then shot a small laser high over the pony.
The tree branch dropped right on the stallion’s head, knocking him off his hooves.
Fine used his magic to toss the spear away, then walked over to look down at his victim. The stallion groaned and didn’t bother to get up. Blood was dripping from a nasty cut on his foreh—
A cut. Blood. It had been what, six weeks? Yes… Six weeks…
He didn’t he realize what he was doing until the other ponies arrived to pull him away. He dropped the bloodied branch, huffing and puffing and delighting in the fresh blood on his face. His team mates were horrified, and something hit him hard on the back of the head.
He came to his senses slowly, lying on his side in the grass. He rose and saw the others over the body, digging through the dead stallion’s belongings and casting fearful looks his way. Fine didn’t feel guilty, not this time. He turned and left them to it, rubbing the back of his sore head as he made his careful way back to the road.
Hoofknife was waiting for him.
“Celestia be damned, Fine!” He was pacing the road, cheeks almost as pink as his mane. “What part of ‘capture them alive’ didn’t you understand? Do you have any idea how far behind this is going to put our investigation?!”
Fine merely sat by the road and watched.
“Weeks we’ve been going after these two. Dozens of sleepless days and nights trying to infiltrate Don Trotioni’s organization. Two agents dead! This is a disaster, a complete bucking disaster!”
Hoofknife paused and gave Fine a dirty look. “Well?”
Finally. “The stallions fought and the others defended themselves. I wasn’t involved with that first part, save for timing the release of the invisibility spell. They were very late arriving, by the way; what’s with that?”
“Keep talking,” Hoofknife growled.
Fine shrugged. “The other one was going to get away, so I pursued.”
“And you killed him!”
Fine leveled a sinister glare at his so-called ‘mentor.’ “I’m a bloodmane. I’d gone six weeks without an assassination job or alternative, twice as long as normal. Do you have any idea how much pain I’ve been in these past three weeks? It took every fiber of my self control not to take out one of my own team mates!”
“I told you, the Archons don’t have any need for assassinations right now. You’ve got a list of acceptable victims, you should have taken time and—”
“No time off. No leaves of absence. No excuses.” Fine pointed at him. “Your orders, Mane Archon!”
Hoofknife stared at him unpleasantly for several seconds, then turned away to brood. After a while he said, “Damn it, Fine Crime, that need of yours is a pain in the flank.”
“You want it? I’d be happy to give it up.”
The Archon leader shook his head, and his voice took on a softer tone. “Look, I’m sorry. I was so eager to get this done… I’ve been after the Don most of my career. I guess in the heat of the chase I forgot.”
Fine’s lips curled back as he let out a snarl. “How can you forget? I think the coat of blood I get soaked in once a month is a pretty clear reminder!”
Hoofknife glowered at him. “Fine, Fine. From here on in I don’t care how important the mission is; if you think there’s a chance you could go off the hook like that, get the hell out and do what you have to do. Defy orders if you have to, I’ll watch out for you. I can’t have another mission like this one blown so horribly!”
To this Fine nodded his glum acceptance, and Hoofknife turned away to stare at the bodies being taken care of in the road. Fine walked over and sat beside him. “So, what now?”
“Disaster control,” the Mane Archon muttered, “and I start looking for another hole in the Don’s legal defense.”
Fine asked the question that had been on his mind for the past several months. “Why don’t you just have somepony kill the Don? I could do it.”
But Hoofknife shook his head. “Princess Celestia wants the Don’s defeat captured in the spotlight, in a legal way. This way the public can know that the government can stop villains like him.”
Fine tilted his head. “But the government can’t stop villains like him. Not if they want to follow their own precious rules.”
“That’s why we’re doing the dirty work behind the scenes,” the pegasus declared. “We get the goods, Don goes on trial, government agencies get the credit.”
“And we don’t get anything,” Fine muttered.
“We get the satisfaction of a job well done in the name of a better Equestria,” Hoofknife corrected. “And it helps that the Princess promised to let me send the bastard to Cloptrotamo once he’s been convicted. Off the record, of course.”
“But the public never knows what we’re doing,” Fine noted.
“That’s the whole point. As far as the average pony in Equestria is concerned, the world is full of sunshine and rainbows and naive singalongs. Without ponies like us to keep the nightmares at bay, the world would be a much different place. If the public knew about the Archons, it would be proof that the scary monsters and bad little ponies are real. Keeping the world calm and peaceful and happy via our complete non-existence. That’s something only we can do.”
“But the world’s not shiny and happy,” Fine countered. “I grew up in that darker half. How can ponies ignore what’s right in front of their eyes?”
“They aren’t ignoring it,” Hoofknife replied. “Hunger and poverty and crime are everywhere. The public deals with it as best it can. The dangers you and I take care of are far more sinister, and very intentional.”
“Like the Don.”
“Yeah, like him.”
Fine thought about the pony’s words for some time. “I think I get it,” he said at last. “I don’t like it…but I get it.”
The Mane Archon shrugged. “It’s something we all learn with time, Fine, by observation and study. You’re good at that, so it shouldn’t take you too much longer. You’re learning, my friend, that’s all.
“Now get out of here and clean up, before somepony thinks you’re a bloodmane.”
He stood before the door, nervous beyond comprehension. How long had it been? Five years, perhaps? Far too long. What would he say? What would he do? He’d thought about those questions for nearly a year now, and he still didn’t have any good answers. This was his third attempt, though, and he’d be damned if he didn't pull it off this time.
It was so hard just to knock. He waited, petrified with a guilty fear. He could do this. He could take the plunge. He wouldn’t dare bolt again.
The door opened. The unicorn had yellow hair that had dulled with age, and his mottled brown coat was starting to gain a touch of grey. He looked up at Fine with uncertain eyes. Fine stared back, mind numb with uncertainty.
“Verity?”
Fine tried to open his mouth. No words came out.
And then Fleurboard wrapped him in a tight hug. “Oh, thank sweet merciful Celestia, Verity! Is that really you in there?”
Finally broken from his fear, Verity Fine warmly returned his father’s hug. “Hey, Dad. I’m home.”
The older stallion stepped back, tears in his eyes. “Oh gentle heavens, look at you. All grown up! You’re even taller than me. Come in, welcome home!” He gave his son another hug even as he tried to step back into the apartment.
They entered the main room, which looked just as clean and in-style as Fine had remembered. “Still an interior designer?”
“Oh, yes, business has been good.” Fleurboard agreed as he wiped tears from his face. “But who cares about me? Where in Celestia’s name have you… You know what? You probably don’t want to talk about that. I remember how you were before you…before you…” The stallion almost broke down in tears again.
Fine smiled sympathetically and gently pushed his father onto a couch. “Dad, I ran away because I was facing some serious problems in my life. It didn’t have anything to do with you, and I intend to tell you about it, right here and right now. But look,” he added, gesturing to himself, “I’m a new stallion! I’ve got a high-paying job that works wonderfully with my special talent. I can choose when I get off, so I’ll be coming to see you anytime you like.
“Life is being so very good to me right now,” he concluded, sitting next his father. “And I promise, I am going to make up for all those years I wouldn’t spend with my old stallion.”
Fleurboard gave his son a feeble smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Verity… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m just so happy to see you again!”
There was a long pause as he focused on recuperating his senses. At last, recovered and beaming, he went on. “This is all so surprising, I don’t know where to start! Why not…why not tell me what this great job of yours is?”
Fine paused, thought about his answer, and smiled warmly. “I’m in the government, Dad.
“I work for Princess Celestia.”
Princess Celestia wanted to see him. Personally. Right now.
Fine felt like he had the first time he’d snuck his way into a house; nervous, excited, but by no means afraid. He couldn’t imagine why he would be called back from Manehattan to personally meet with the Princess, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was a Senior Archon. He served loyally and to the letter.
So here he was, before the private office of the ruler of all Equestria herself. He'd been surprised by the location, for he’d originally expected to meet her in the throne room. It was a foolish mistake; the princess wasn’t going to meet with the agent of an organization that didn’t exist in the publicly-displayed throne room.
The guards announced him, and the doors began to open. He took a moment to adjust the vest he’d bought for just this occasion and trotted formally into the office.
There she was, tall and white-coated and glimmering like the sun itself. She was radiant, that was for certain. Not his idea of knock-out beautiful – in truth he wasn’t sure of his tastes in mares, having little time for them – but even he had to acknowledge that this was a specimen of loveliness. He stood before her desk, doing his best to appear polite and proper before the most powerful pony in the known world.
Celestia was reading several scrolls that were splayed all across her desk. It was rather messy, but the ever-clean Fine Crime wouldn’t dream of pointing this out. She finished reading one of the scrolls before turning her serious face upon him. “You are Fine Crime, protégé of Hoofknife?”
“I am, Princess.”
She stood from the desk. “I am sorry to have called upon you so abruptly. I know you were working on a serious mission in Manehattan involving the remnants of Don Trotioni’s freshly-leaderless organization.”
“I live to serve, ma’am.”
She eyed him, face still serious, then walked to the nearby window to stare at the vast lands far below the castle. “I’m afraid something serious has occurred, something that must be reconciled immediately. I am very sorry to have to say this, Mr. Crime…but the Mane Archon, Hoofknife, is dead.”
The Senior Archon reeled as if struck by a hammer. “W-what? Hoofknife? How?”
“Complications with an old wound he’d received long ago.”
Ah. Fine bowed his head, ears tucking down at the hurt feeling in his chest. “You mean the one he got from the changeling.”
She quietly observed him, as if wondering how much he knew. “I am sorry. I know he considered you a friend.”
“Heh, friend.” The only one he’d had since running away from home. “I don’t make those easily.”
“So I heard,” she noted. “But he did vouch for you in his last testament.”
Fine blinked and turned to her. “You mean he left me something?” This was a surprise.
“Oh yes,” she met his gaze with solemn eyes. “He named you his successor.”
Fine stared, glanced around as if expecting her statement to be aimed at somepony else, then set a hoof to his chest. “Me? He’s named me the Mane Archon?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. I’ve only been with the Archons for a few years. I thought somepony with more experience would be selected.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you can’t do it?”
“I’m saying—” he paused to adjusting his tone. “I’m saying I didn’t expect to be asked to. He did tell you about my disorder?”
Her expression hardened just a touch. “Indeed, he mentioned it to me in the past.”
“And you condone such a thing?”
She shook her head, a slow, serene motion. “Mr. Crime, I’ve been ruling Equestria alone for almost a thousand years. I had to learn long ago to accept certain distasteful things, no matter how much I despised them. To be frank, I hate the Archons and what they do. Their very existence stands as a slap in the face of Harmony and everything that Equestria stands for.
“But I also remember what it was like trying to rule this land before the Archons, and I can tell you without any hesitancy that an Equestria with them is far better off than an Equestria without. Equestria needs the Archons, and so I tolerate them. You being a Bloodmane is not such a big step in comparison.”
He thought about this answer, found he liked it. “Princess,” he said pleasantly, “your honesty is comforting, and as a pony who hates being a Bloodmane I certainly cannot blame you for hating the Archons. Unless I’m mistaken, being the Mane Archon means I’ll be working directly with you?” She nodded. “Then I accept. Graciously. And if I may be so bold, I think the two of us will get along wonderfully.”
To that she smiled, though he could tell it was forced.
“Then you, Fine Crime, are now formally entitled Mane Archon of the Equestrian Dark Archons. I hope your predictions prove true. And now I have something very important to discuss with you.
“Tell me, Mr. Crime; what do you know about Night Mare Moon?”
He was in the sea, fighting for his life. He couldn’t scream for the water in his throat, couldn’t breathe for the fear that gripped his mind. He struggled and kicked and prayed, but he just kept descending into the black, murky depths. Great scaled pillars arose from the dark, encircling him, trapping him within like a mighty underwater forest. He beat his legs frantically against the cold water, trying with all his might to swim even though he didn’t have the faintest idea how, but he kept going down. Down into oblivion. Down into death. Down to those massive yellow eyes and the tree-sized teeth, each a jagged knife made from unicorn horns.
But then something new happened. A light shined down from above. It pierced the murky depths and struck the beast’s eyes. It squirmed and struggled, then finally faded as if it had only been a shadow itself.
He was rising… No, that wasn’t right. The water was lowering, like the entire ocean was being drained. What was this? What was happening to his nightmare?
He burst out of the water, coughing and gagging as he laid on his stomach and struggled to control himself. He was on land, a dry beach. The same beach he’d been on so long ago as a foal. It was night, pitch black despite the bright moon.
And then she appeared, floating down from that celestial object like a veritable goddess.
Princess Luna.
Ah. Now he understood.
Fine sat up, front legs wobbling, to greet the princess. She dropped to the waters, walking on the ocean’s smooth surface. He stared. He couldn’t help it: Princess Celestia was radiant, but her sister was a true beauty. He was almost speechless. Almost.
“My humble thanks to you, fair Princess,” he declared, bowing respectfully.
“AND THOU ART VERY WELCOME, MY LOYAL SUBJECT!”
He leaned back and rubbed an ear with his hoof. “Whoa… Your sister told me you were going to have trouble with that kind of thing.”
Princess Luna tilted her head, though managed to retain the firm, practiced regal expression. “THOU HAST SPOKEN WITH OUR SISTER OF US? WHO ART THOU, TO WARRANT SUCH AN AUDIENCE?”
He shook his head to clear the ringing. “Hell, lady! I mean, uh, princess. Sorry, I meant princess.” He coughed self-consciously. “I am Fine Crime, Mane Archon of the Equestrian Dark Archons.”
“WE SEE—” She paused and shook her head with an annoyed look. “We see. Celestia has spoken to us of the Archons, who were founded after our exile. Thou undertakest matters of espionage, are we correct?”
“That is correct,” he confirmed, greatly relieved in her change of tone. “And it is my understanding that you, Princess, are to take over responsibility of our organization in a couple of weeks.”
“This is indeed so, Sir Crime,” she replied. “We imagine we shall be seeing much more of one another in the near future.”
“And I look forward to it.” He really did.
She nodded in her formal manner, but then glanced about his dream world. “Sir Crime, we must ask thee of this nightmare you suffer from. The great beast that threatens to devour thee, from whence did you perceive it?”
Fine considered the question. Should he say? Yes… yes, he probably should. The princess wasn’t like ordinary ponies; surely she’d seen things unknown to much of the world. Who better to believe him? But speaking about what he’d seen openly…
Fine made his decision, but he still had to take a moment to prepare himself.
“When I was a foal,” he began stiffly, “my parents took me on a sailing trip into the Everfree Sea. We were caught in what we thought was a storm; the boat sank and…and…” He swallowed and fought back down memories. “I saw that…that thing under the sea. I believe, with my very soul, that the terrible seas were caused by it. And I watched it… It ate my mother.”
She remained solemnly silent, listening with great care. He found he appreciated her attention. It gave him a touch of confidence. “I’ve told only a very few ponies about that experience, princess. I’ve told even less about the beast that has haunted my nightmares all my life. I've not even told my father, who was there. Frankly, I don’t expect anypony to believe me.”
That last part was a question in the form of a sentence, and he could see she caught it.
Luna paused to consider his words, a hoof set to her lips. “That beast has never been witnessed by our eyes,” she admitted. “Yet that does not negate its existence. There are secret enemies of Equestria, Sir Crime. Enemies of the whole known world. If thou hast experience and reason to claim there is a great demon within the seas, we have no reason to doubt it.”
He blinked, thought about her words, blinked again. She was willing to believe him?
But the princess wasn’t finished. “Thou hast shared something very personal with us, Mane Archon. In return, there is something very personal that we would share with thee. It is an issue that is of great import to us, and my sister encouraged us to see you on the matter. We intended to wait until we had assumed command of the Archons, but as we are here now...”
Fine smiled, bowing once more. “I live to serve, princess.”
Luna approached, appearing strangely nervous. Then she asked him, in a manner he found strangely cryptic, “Mane Archon, what can you tell us about the stars?”
“So,” he asked, “I assume you’ve read my final report?”
“Yes, it was quite detailed.” Luna set the massive bound book on the desk between them, eyeing it as if it were something dangerous. “I must admit I was expecting an essay, not a novel.”
“You told me to be thorough.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
He grinned. “Sorry. Should have warned you.”
“But now that it’s all done, I do have some questions.”
“I’ll answer what I can.”
Luna opened the book with her magic, flipping pages. “This first candidate, Upper Crust. Frankly, Fine, I do not see what she brings to this team.”
His lips curled in a wry smile. “You didn’t fully read her section, did you?”
She blushed and cast a wayward look to the side. “I have other duties to attend to aside from reading a thousand pages.”
“Got it,” he replied with a chuckle. “Fact is, Upper Crust has a lot of value to this group. Her special talent has a phenomenal range of uses.”
Luna raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Guessing? Truly?”
“No, estimating. Upper Crust has huge potential. She’s lived her entire life feeling like she has nothing to offer, but with a little creativity and positive thinking she could really go places. I watched her for a month, Luna, and I promise you: by the time this is done she could be one of the most important members of this team.”
The princess set a hoof to her chin, still appearing uncertain. “I think I need an example.”
“She doesn’t just estimate distances,” Fine pressed. “Range. Price. Size. Material. Style. Direction. Source. She processes the information and within seconds spits out a potential outcome, and her accuracy rate is astonishing. Can you imagine applying that kind of ability to economic, political or even military uses?”
She tilted her head at him. “Somewhat as you have done?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “I analyze a situation and form the best outcome. It takes time and required a lifetime of practice. Her abilities are much faster and have a very different set of applications.”
Luna considered this a bit longer, but finally nodded. “I am still not sure I understand, but I will accept this. It would be better to see her in action than judge from the test alone. Let us move on to Nye.
“Ah, you’re favorite quill-pal.”
She smiled. “He has become a pleasant friend.” It faded as quickly as it had come. “But he too I do not see as entirely valuable for this group. He is a cobbler, Fine.”
“He’s lazy,” Fine added. “He lacks self esteem and responsibility, and his physical talents leave much to be desired.”
She frowned at his words. “I thought you were going to defend him?”
He nodded solemnly. “I am. You see, underneath that sad image is a diamond waiting to be polished. Maybe he can’t run a marathon or think on his hooves, but he’s got compassion, and a desire to belong. And I think that, above all else, he will do anything for the friends he’s finally found – you included.
“I didn’t choose Nye Stone for what he physically brings to this team,” he concluded. “I chose him because I believe he can provide a certain morale element. Most of these other ponies aren’t used to working in groups, or simply don’t get along with others. They need a glue to keep them together, and Nye is it.”
She looked down at the book, the doubt clear on her face. “You really think Nye has those qualities?”
“Luna, I do. And I don’t have to go any farther for proof than to ask how he treated you compared to others upon seeing you for the first time.”
She stared at him, then slowly smiled. “Alright, Fine. Alright. Now—” she flipped pages again, “—his brother. Smart, moderately athletic. A hard worker. I like him. But he strikes me as a bit aloof.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d catch that,” he admitted.
“I did. Jimmy Stone also seems very career-centric. I wonder if he would rather pursue his legacy than work for us.”
“I don’t believe it will be an issue,” Fine declared. “Jimmy provides a lot of utility to this group. He has the problem-solving smarts of an engineer and the brawn of a front-liner, so we can place him exactly where we need him at any given moment. He has his social issues, true, but that’s why we have Nye. Given time and a little encouragement, I believe Jimmy will be a very loyal and capable member of the team...if a little boring.”
Luna raised an eyebrow once more, the doubt plain on her face. “I suppose I shall have to take your word on it. I do believe he would be a strong member, after all...assuming he can grow past his tendency for inaction.”
The book flipped around once more, and Luna set her hoof down on a page. “This one. This…Octavia. She’s very good, Fine. Very good indeed. Too good. Are you sure she isn’t over-qualified?”
Fine laughed. “All the fretting about the others’ negative traits, and now you doubt the one without them?”
Luna frowned. “Remember what this team is about, Fine. It’s not just being the best.”
“I know,” he answered soberly, “and Octavia isn’t the best. On paper she looks excellent. In fact I’m recommending that she be made the leader of this little group. She has great qualities: honest, surprisingly strong, intelligent, resourceful, quick on her hooves, kind, determined. But those qualities string from her life experiences, a focus on self-perfection and independence. She has her flaws, Luna. Oh yes, she has flaws.”
“Very well.” The princess didn’t need much convincing, the book’s pages flipping once more to the final entry. “Lightning Dust. I see exactly what you meant in your letter about her being wonderfully qualified. In the end I have but one concern: when the time comes and she gets the call, will she answer?”
Fine nodded. “She’s racked by doubt and self-pity. She’s dying for a chance to prove herself. If coming to us gives her a chance to do that, I think she’d fly to the depths of Tartarus and back.”
The book closed with a surprisingly loud bang.
“You’ve done well, Fine. I still have my doubts, but this team was practically founded on doubts.” She set the book aside, her expression regal. “I think Celestia did right by suggesting you take on this task.”
He smiled charmingly. “Well I am the Mane Archon.”
She studied him solemnly for several seconds, and for a while her expression was unreadable. At last she shook her head. “Fine, it’s not enough.”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the team’s not finished. I want one more member.”
He face-faulted. “Luna, you were the one who suggested five in the first place. I had to go through over five hundred names to narrow this list down – with minimal help! Don’t tell me you want me to go through it all again just to provide one more team member.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything of the sort,” she replied in a calming tone. “But the team needs something more, because they aren’t a team, not yet. Somepony has to make them one, to get them started. Somepony who knows them.”
He raised his head, a cautious frown on his lips. “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking—”
“I want you to lead the team.”
“—and you said it.” His body went slack from exasperation as he rubbed his face. “Ugh… I can’t believe this. You want me to be the hero?”
“This is not a team of heroes,” she corrected, “and you, Fine Crime, certainly do not fit the description. Considering your history, you might be more like a villain.”
He laughed, for she was refreshingly accurate. “The bad guy leading a team of losers in a hopeless cause that they won’t be recognized for. Geez, it’s like a story in a bad book.” He stared at the ceiling, considering. He did know all the other ponies, in a way. During his investigations he’d been so close to each and every one of them, though they hadn’t realized it.
“I want to be clear that this isn’t an order.”
He sat up straight again, giving her a direct look. “Then what is it?”
Her eyes were hopeful, which was not at all what he’d expected. “It’s a request.”
A request from a friend. She hadn’t said it, but he could tell that was what she meant.
He sighed, bowed his head...and chuckled. “Princess, I told you before that you will be hard-pressed to find somepony more loyal than me. If you tell me to dig, I ask how deep.” He looked at her with a weak smile. “If you want me to lead this little group of misfits, I will. Whether that’s a good idea or not…well, frankly I doubt it.”
She smiled. “As I said, Fine, this team is practically founded on doubts.”
The Crystal Museum of History was large and decidedly beautiful. Twilight Sparkle was awed as she was guided along by Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor past the glimmering crystal walls covered in displays. “This is amazing,” she confessed. “Where did you find all this stuff?”
Her brother tossed a mischievous grin her way. “Would you believe storage?”
“What? Seriously?”
“It’s true,” Cadance acknowledged. “The best we can figure is that when King Sombra took hold he just put all this stuff away, for whatever reason. We’ve had experts studying them ever since the Crystal Empire returned.”
Twilight cast her eyes upon a veritable treasure trove of history; suits of armor, ancient tapestries, books and scrolls and so much more! She imagined that she could live in a place like this for a year and never learn everything she’d like. “It was a great idea to make a museum out of it,” she acknowledged. “With a thousand years lost, many ponies are sure to be fascinated by such relics! It really lets non-crystal ponies understand the Crystal Empire’s culture.”
“That’s exactly what we’re hoping for,” Cadance said. “Seeing how Equestria has evolved so much, many of the crystal ponies here are having trouble adjusting, and only a very few dare leave the Empire to see the world at large.”
“With this museum,” Shining Armor added, “ponies from the rest of Equestria can learn about the Crystal Empire. But that’s not all; a large part of the museum also showcases the last thousand years of Equestria, letting the crystal ponies learn about all they’ve missed.”
“It’s a big step,” Twilight admitted. “I think it’s wonderful!”
“Figured you would,” Spike noted, trailing behind with a dull look on his face.
They all gave him questioning looks. “Spike,” Twilight said, “aren’t you the least bit excited about this?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he answered, “the museum’s lovely, and the history’s interesting. It’s a good thing. It’s just that the last time I was in a fancy museum like this one I ended the day falling to my doom on a yacht over Canterlot.”
Twilight laughed. “I don’t think you’ll find any egg thieves this time, Spike. Hey,” she gestured towards a section of the museum that was different. “What’s that room?”
“Oh,” Shining Armor noted a little uncomfortably, “that area’s devoted to King Sombra’s rule.”
Twilight gaped. “What? You actually devoted a piece of the museum to him? Why would you do something like that?”
Princess Cadance was already in the room, and the others followed warily. Unlike the rest of the museum, the entire room was made from dark red crystals. “King Sombra was a black stain on the Empire’s history, but it’s important that everypony remembers that time,” she declared. “If we don’t remember the events of our past, we may be doomed to repeat them.”
Twilight wandered the hall, feeling a touch nervous. Everything seemed so…malevolent. They certainly had the atmosphere right. Her eyes caught a display case by the wall, and she found herself drawn to it. The case held only one item; a small, black crystal. She stepped back to observe the plaque.
“Oh, my… You actually have a piece of Sombra’s horn? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not if King Sombra’s not around to use it,” Cadance noted.
“The old tyrant might be dead,” Shining Armor said, his tone dour, “but that doesn’t make his horn any more welcome.”
Cadance sighed. “As you can see, your brother’s not exactly fond of this part of the museum.”
“I’m completely against it,” he corrected. “But if it will serve the greater public good…”
Twilight nodded. “I guess. I mean, it’s not like he can use it anymore.”
“Twilight!”
At Spike’s warning she turned back to the display. She had only a second to feel alarm as a dark glow rose up from the broken horn and connected to hers…and then her body froze.
The perfection. The sheer, marvelous, beautiful perfection!
And that was just how she looked in the mirror-like surface of the castle. Rarity hadn’t even started on the castle itself. So much shine, so much glisten, so much glamour! She adored the Crystal Empire, so much so that it was beginning to rival Canterlot for her affection.
“Rarity, look, look! Look at my silly face!”
She cast a posh glance at Pinkie, who was standing on her front hooves and making silly expressions at a spot on the castle wall that blurred her image in goofy ways.
“Err, yes, very nice.”
“You try! Come on!” Before Rarity could object she found herself dragged to the corner and gazing at a strange, stretchy version of herself. Pinkie was beside herself with glee and giggles. “Look, you’re all stretchy! Stretchity Rarity!” She fell on her back, laughing raucously.
Rarity eyed her friend, then her reflection. She set a hoof to her mouth, tried to hold back…but couldn’t stop the laugh. “I do look silly, don’t I?”
“Come on, try this wall,” Pinkie insisted, darting across the room. “Fatso Pinkie! And here, wayayayaaaavy Rarity!”
They bounced from wall to wall, laughing wildly at both their reflections and Pinkie’s silly descriptions. “Macho me! Macho you! Rariteenie! Jumbo Pinkinator! Whoa,” she struggled with one that was merging their reflections into a single pink and white blob. “Umm… Pinkarare! Aaaarrrgh!”
Rarity giggled at Pinkie’s reared-back attempt to emulate a monster. “Really Pinkie, you’re so silly. Tempting me into being so unladylike, you should be ashamed!”
“Oh, come on, loosen up,” Pinkie insisted before cartwheeling into the next room. “There’s nopony around to care. Oh, the Crystal Heart! Shiny!”
Rarity sighed lightheartedly, glancing at her warped reflection once more. On impulse she stuck her tongue out at it, giggling at the image the act produced. She trotted her way into the Crystal Heart chamber, which was what she’d come here to see anyway. But Pinkie was right, who’d know? With that in mind she kept making faces at the wall, giggling all along—
—and then sucked in a sharp, horrified breath of air at the sight of a Canterlot pony standing by the Crystal Heart. And Pinkie was trying to talk to him!
“Hey, I remember you, you were at the big fancy party in Canterlot during Twilight’s birthday! I remember ‘cause you wanted to buy two of Rarity's dresses and—”
Rarity snatched Pinkie by the tail and dragged her away, blushing all the while. “I thought you said there was nopony here,” she hissed.
“Yeah, I did,” her friend answered with a grin, not bothering to keep her voice down. “And at the time I thought it was true!” She cartwheeled away with a clueless “Weeeee!”
Rarity made a sound that was somewhere between disgust and acceptance before putting on her best game face and approaching the pony. “Why, Jet Set! What a surprise to see you here.”
He acknowledged her with a high class game face of his own. “Ah, Rarity. It’s been a while.” From his tone he probably didn’t think it had been long enough. “Come to bask in the glory that is the Crystal Heart, have we?”
“Well, officially I’m here with friends to visit with Princess Cadance,” she answered, pausing to give him some time to chew on that news. “But I just couldn’t come to the Crystal Empire without seeing the enchanting beauty of the Crystal Heart!”
He turned his judging eyes on Pinkie, who was still laughing at her reflection in the walls. “I see. One of your friends, I presume?”
Rarity smiled but refrained from giggling at the pony’s antics. “Yes, I was happy to bring her along. She keeps things from growing stale.” She glanced around curiously. “Upper Crust isn’t here with you?”
“She’s here on business,” he replied importantly. “She’s at an auction on the outskirts of the city, trying to buy some antique paintings for the museum back in Canterlot. I came along to keep her company, but as she’s working, I thought I’d tour the castle.”
“Wow, Rarity, look! This one doesn’t look like me at all, it’s not even pink.” Pinkie was waving frantically at her with eyes glued to the wall. “It’s all orange and green and snakey and catty and…whoa!”
Rarity glanced at her friend, thinking she was just being her usual self, but then did a double-take; something was coming out of the wall! Pinkie was walking backwards, eyes wide, as a weird creature…thing began to emerge. Its orange, cat-like upper body and dragon-like wings were going through, and within the reflective surface Rarity saw a long tail like a snake’s. What in Equestria?
The creature was watching Pinkie with serious eyes, almost threatening, and the pony appeared appropriately worried.
Then the creature stopped with a jerk.
The thing glanced at its waist where the cat and snake parts merged with a surprised look. It pushed with both paws against the polished crystal surface. It grunted, struggled and face-faulted with an exasperated expression.
It spoke in a dull tone, “Well, this isn’t quite going as planned.” It had a husky female voice.
“What in Celestia’s name are you?” Jet asked.
“Oh, I know!” Pinkie started. “A chimera! No, wait, umm, a manticore? No…a draconequus! Er, nah, that’s not right either… Wait! I know! A Snake-a-cat!”
“You made that last one up, didn’t you?” Rarity asked.
Pinkie reared back to shrug her shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right, this one clearly isn’t in my Pinktionary.”
“Name later, wall now,” the creature declared, struggling once again. It tried pushing itself out with a strained expression, then came free with a popping sound. She crashed right into the party pony, the two forming a heap on the floor.
Pinkie was all giggles. “That was a great trick,” she declared. “Do another one!”
The thing was lying on its back on top of Pinkie. The cat face grinned at the ceiling. “One trick, coming right up!” Her paws rose and clapped twice.
“Waa…?!” Rarity’s world was engulfed in white cloud. When her vision cleared she found herself wearing Jet’s clothes…and vice versa.
Pinkie practically exploded in laughter.
“Wha-what do you think you’re doing?!” Rarity snapped at the creature.
“Oh my goodness,” Jet cried in genuine terror, “get me out of this dress before somepony sees me!”
Rarity approached the creature as it began to float up from the crystalline floor. “You undo this right now,” she demanded with a stomp of her hoof. “The nerve of some ponies!”
“Wow, that’s hilarious,” Pinkie cried, laughing too hard to get up. “Do something else, do something else!”
“Relax, Miss Priss,” the creature said to Rarity with a toothy grin. “Look at it this way, you’re about to be immortalized!” She clapped her paws again, and when they separated she was carrying two small black gems. “I’ve got a really good trick coming up.”
“Hey,” Pinkie said as she finally rose from the floor, “you should meet Discord! I bet you two would have tons of fun together.”
The cat-faced monstrosity floated over the Crystal Heart, her face deathly serious. “No, Pinkie Pie. We wouldn’t.”
She spread her arms wide and dropped the two gems.
Rarity knew something was wrong in an instant, the magic of those gems resonating almost violently with her horn. She was going to lash out, to try and stop their descent, but before she could they touched the Crystal Heart.
An instant later she was gazing through dark crystal, every muscle frozen solid. Amidst her panic she could hear a strange, clicking kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit-a sound. She realized it was laughter.
Rainbow Dash was beside herself. “This is going to be soooo awesome!”
“So we’ve heard,” Jimmy Stone ventured with a weak smile at Applejack and his brother Nye. They both waved in a manner that said ‘just go with it.’
Rainbow was in his face in an instant. “You don’t understand!” Then she was flying circles around them. “We’re gonna see the premier Wonderbolts in the longest race ever devised by ponykind! Why aren’t you excited? I’m excited, I am so excited!”
Jimmy scratched his head in confusion. “But aren’t you a Wonderbolt, now? I mean, you went to the academy and all.”
“I’m still considered a rookie,” she noted without disdain. “These are the big names! Epic pegasi like Soarin and Spitfire and Fleetfoot! Oh, oh, I’m gonna go get our seats right now!” And she was gone, a streak of colors in her wake.
Jimmy landed next to his brother. “Is she always this excited?”
“Only when it comes ta the Wonderbolts,” Applejack answered with a grin.
They entered the glistening new stadium, all crystalline and shining. As they wandered around in search of their seat for the coming race, Jimmy found himself gazing at the architecture with a trained eye. His mind wanted to run mathematics, but he had no idea what the structural stats of these crystals were. For that matter, where did they get them? How were they formed? It was baffling, and he hoped to get answers while in the Empire.
Of course he’d enjoy the race too. He’d always been too busy to see the Wonderbolts whenever they came to Manehattan, so when Rainbow Dash and Nye had invited him along – the tickets being a graduation gift from her friends – he had been delighted to agree. But while he was here, he figured he could satisfy his professional curiosity too. He might even get to meet a princess; wouldn’t that be something worth remembering!
“Y’know,” Applejack said as they spotted Rainbow floating excitedly over their front row seats, “Ah get they wanna celebrate the openin’ o'the museum an' all, but a hundred-lap race? Sounds kinda long ta me.”
“Not when you’re dealing with Wonderbolts,” Nye corrected. “This’ll be over a lot faster than you’d think. Besides, it’s a tribute to the hundred-lap race the Crystal Ponies used to hold every three years, back before Sombra took over.”
“Yeah, Ah know, but that was a relay hoof race. These ponies'r flyin’, an' they’re gonna do it all in one shot.”
“Flying doesn’t require so much energy,” Jimmy noted helpfully. “I always found I could fly longer than I could gallop.”
“Come on, guys!” Rainbow urged as they approached, finally landing in her seat. “The race is gonna start while you’re all lagging!”
They were great seats, right next to the track and only a dozen or so feet in front of the starting line. Jimmy leaned against the wall and watched expectantly as a group of blue-clad ponies began to take their places for the start. He thought Rainbow might hyperventilate at any moment; it was actually rather amusing.
“You’d swear she was racing herself,” he whispered to Nye.
His twin laughed. “She wishes! I think it’s cute.”
“You think all mares are cute,” Jimmy countered in amusement.
“Hush,” Applejack snapped, “the race is startin’.”
“Oooooh, this is going to be so awesome!” Rainbow had elbows to the wall, hooves to cheeks, back legs hanging as her wings flapped in excitement.
The countdown began. The Wonderbolts took up racing poses.
The sky went dark.
Jimmy, and every other pony in the stands with him, leaned back to stare at the great, dark red, semi-transparent dome that was suddenly growing out of the castle in the distance. It was almost like an erupting bomb, flying at the stadium with shocking speed! Ponies shouted out, started to run.
Jimmy was moving faster than he knew he could, hooves snatching up his brother as he rocketed into the air. He looked down just in time to see the Wonderbolts, too startled to respond, get caught up in the wave. They were encased in red crystal almost instantly. The ponies in the stands that couldn’t fly away quick enough didn’t fare any better.
“Sweet Luna!” Nye cried from below.
“W-wha’s goin’ on!?” Applejack added, her voice distant. Jimmy glanced towards the sound to see her being carried off by Rainbow Dash, her vastly superior speed already rocketing them into the distance.
“Up, up, up!”
Jimmy registered his brother’s warning and ascended, not having to look to know the dome was spreading rapidly below. He beat his wings as hard as he could, already straining from his brother’s heft. “Darn it, Nye, ya gotta lose some of that weight,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“It’s slowing down,” Nye said. “I... I think it’s stopping.”
Jimmy paused his ascent and turned to look down at the massive dome that shined ominously below. The entire city had been encased in it, like a giant blackish-red snow globe. What in Celestia’s name could have caused that?
“Umm, bro?”
“Yeah?”
“Too high.”
“Right.”
Jimmy descended steadily, too afraid of losing his hold on his brother to dare a dive. He chose to go over the dome, just so they could get a better look. What he saw mortified him; ponies on the streets all over the city had been encased in the same dark red crystals as had taken the ponies at the stadium.
“Jimmy,” Nye called out as they glided over the castle, “look there, on that balcony!”
He did, and was surprised to see a pony who hadn’t been crystallized. It was a unicorn with a dark gray coat and black mane, his horn shining red but missing a small chunk near the top. He was conversing with some creature Jimmy didn’t recognize; it appeared to be a cross between a cat, a snake and a dragon.
“Who is that guy?” Nye wondered out loud.
“I dunno,” Jimmy admitted as they left the castle behind, “but something tells me he’s not friendly.”
“There’s Rainbow and AJ,” Nye noted, gesturing towards a group of trees just outside the massive shield. Jimmy saw them and began his approach.
Another train ride, another job. Octavia was looking forward to this one more than most, though; she was to perform at tomorrow’s grand opening of the Crystal Museum of History! This wasn’t a small band job, this was a position in an orchestra to play traditional music of the Empire. They could have easily chosen any Crystal Pony musician, but they’d called on her. The last time she’d felt so honored was when she’d been asked to perform at the Grand Galloping Gala two years ago!
She was in a private booth, cello case lying on the seat opposite her. She’d never been to the Crystal Empire before, having never earned a job there and not having enough bits to go on her own. She thought the scenery quite pleasant, though oddly…tame. Equestria’s landscape seemed a lot more vivid and wild and random compared to this.
The train slowed, so she began to put on her caseholder saddle. It used to be difficult on a moving train, but now it went on quick and smooth, years of practice coming to her aid. Hoisting the cello case on her back easily, she made for the door as the train at last came to a lurching stop.
There was just one problem; they weren’t at the train station.
Octavia walked to the door and tried to look outside, but there was nothing save green grass and trees, and snow in the distance where the magic of the Empire came to an abrupt end. What was going on?
She started for the next car, hoping somepony might be able to explain the delay, when she heard the shouting. Curious, she walked to the other side of the train, which she’d not checked.
In the near distance she saw it, a great semi-transparent dome the color of rosewood encasing the whole of the Crystal City. Octavia was awed, but also frightened; clearly something had gone terribly wrong.
An anxious-looking attendant came trotting through the car, and began speaking before she had a chance to. “Please miss, return to your booth. We need to make a lot of room.”
“But what happened to the city?” she asked.
“We don’t know,” the attendant admitted, “and the conductor’s decided that we aren’t waiting to find out! We’re going to pick up as many refugees as we can and head straight back to Equestria.”
“Refugees?”
He gestured to the window before moving on to check the other cars, and Octavia tried to get a better look. She could see nothing beyond her own car, though. Acting on a whim, she opened the door and jumped down to the grass, her cello case rocking heavily on her back. When she turned to the front of the train she was alarmed to see a large mass of crystal ponies fighting to get on board.
Her first thought was to get back on the train, but curiosity and concern got the best of her. She wanted to know what had happened. Somehow, it felt important that she know.
But getting anything from the panicking ponies was almost impossible. They all seemed to know just one thing; they wanted out of the Empire, fast. It was clear to her that there were too many ponies here for the train to carry, though. At last she managed to catch the attention of a lone stallion in the back, his crystal coat glimmering in the bright sun.
“It’s King Sombra,” the stallion had claimed in horror, “he’s back!”
That was about as much as she could get out of him.
She couldn’t believe it. King Sombra, the Devil of the Empire, back? Impossible. Princess Cadance had killed him with the Crystal Heart, everypony knew that. This had to be the work of some sort of imposter. A powerful imposter, judging by the size of that dome.
Octavia walked beyond the desperate crowds to get a better look at the massive thing. It was enormous! She wondered if the princess or the Element-Bearers would have to deal with it. Of course, this also meant the end of a spectacular job opportunity, but there were far more important things than money involved here. Still, she had to lament the copious number of bits she’d lost buying her ticket to get here.
She heard the engine’s whistle, and spun about in alarm; the train was leaving! She took a few steps, but realized quickly that she’d never get back in time. Even if she were able to get to the train before it picked up speed, she could see dozens of crystal ponies racing to keep up. She would have to fight them off just to get near the thing.
She muttered a very uncultured curse, the kind would have made her sister Benjamina proud and her mother twist on her ears. Now what was she supposed to do?
She sat on her haunches between the railroad tracks and thought for a while. As she did, she watched the crystal ponies before her. Some were following the tracks. Others simply hung around in a depressed state, or weeping with fear. They were all a miserable sight. She realized quickly that she wanted to help, but what could she do? She was no unicorn, and even if she had been she doubted she’d have had enough power to breach the massive barrier behind her.
She was feeling helpless, and she hated that feeling, so she got up and followed the tracks towards the dome.
She couldn’t go home, that would require a long trek through the snowlands between Equestria and the Empire, and it was a trek she was not at all prepared for. So instead she would walk around the dome, study it a bit. At the very least she might be able to find something out that would help whoever came to the rescue. Hopefully they’d come soon; she didn’t relish the idea of trying to live off the land out here with all the rest of the survivors.
As she reached the dome she saw a rainbow streaking overhead. She watched it for a moment and realized with some surprise that it was actually a pegasus – an incredibly fast pegasus – trying to get into the dome. And failing, it seemed.
The cellist turned her attention to the barrier, which was so incredibly tall that it seemed like a wall from up close. It looked solid like glass, and she could see through to the city within easily.
It was the first time she’d really paid attention to the inside of the thing, and now she was horrified; hundreds of ponies, frantic-faced, frozen mid-step in huge red crystals. There was one right in front of her, mouth opened wide in a terrible-looking expression of fright. Octavia moved close to look the pony in the eyes…then let out a horrified shout when those eyes turned on her.
By Celestia, they were still alive. And worse, aware!
For a tender moment she could only stare at those hopeless eyes. She wanted to help. She needed to help! She pressed a hoof against the barrier experimentally; it sank back almost like a pillow, but held. She tried setting both front hooves against it and pushing, but of course it wouldn’t give. So she tried bucking it, but all she earned for her trouble were some sore legs. She hadn’t really expected the shield to fall that easily, but she’d had to try.
She looked back along the tracks at the crystal ponies in the distance. There was no help in that direction. Feeling not just a little afraid, she leaned against the shield to look the pony before her in the eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said, not knowing if the mare could even hear her. “Something will be done about this.” Well, it felt good to say it.
Knowing she couldn’t help, she guiltily left the trapped ponies and began circling the massive dome. It didn’t take her long to realize that this was going to be a massive undertaking. Worse, she didn’t even know if it would help anypony to do it. But she couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, so she walked. And walked. And walked some more. Every now and again she’d look up and spot that rainbow-trailing pegasus, still determined to get inside.
At least Octavia wasn’t the only one trying to help.
She had been walking for perhaps an hour when she came upon the yellow unicorn. The mare was sitting beside the dome, staring inside with a miserable expression and eyes red from crying. She was no crystal pony. Octavia approached slowly, so as not to startle the poor thing. She was glad to see that somepony else had managed to escape.
“Pardon me,” she ventured, “but are you alright?”
The mare sniffed and slowly turned to gaze at Octavia through her soft purple and white mane. She said nothing at first, only turned to gaze back forlornly at the city. For a moment Octavia wondered if the pony was even going to answer.
“I ran,” the unicorn finally muttered.
Octavia didn’t understand. “You escaped, right?” Wasn’t that a good thing?
But the unicorn bowed her head and began to cry fresh tears. “I just ran, and left him in there.”
“Him?”
“My husband,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do, didn’t even know where he was. I just saw it coming and I… I ran.”
Oh. That made things a bit harder. Octavia cast a fretful glance at the barrier. She knew what she was about to say was unlikely. “Perhaps he escaped at another place.”
But the unicorn couldn’t be consoled; she fell to her belly and covered her eyes. “I’m such a coward. What kind of pony am I, to just run away without even trying?”
It was heartbreaking. Octavia had no idea how to comfort the mare, and was beginning to get that horrible feeling of helplessness again. She sighed and looked up in the sky, just in time to see the rainbow pegasus streaking through the sky. She watched the head of the rainbow, the pegasus little more than a dot at the tip. She flew a few circles, picking up speed, then went right smack into the barrier, with no effect and probably a lot of pain. But the rainbow pegasus didn’t fall, or stop trying: a moment’s pause to recuperate and she was at it again, flying around the dome in a manner that suggested frustration.
Whoever it was up there, she wasn’t giving up. Octavia took solace in that determination.
She knelt down next to the crying unicorn. “What’s your name?”
The smaller mare didn’t look up a she answered. “Upper Crust.”
“Upper Crust,” she whispered in the most comforting voice she could muster, “your husband may have escaped. After all, you did. And even if he didn’t, help will come soon. Somepony will come and knock this barrier down, and everything will be righted. Maybe it will be the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. Perhaps Princess Celestia herself will come to our rescue!”
Upper Crust rubbed her eyes and peered up at her through her frilled mane. “Do you really think so?”
Octavia nodded, realizing that it was the truth. “They’d never let something like this stand. You just wait and see, this will all be resolved in no time!” She stood and offered the pony a helping hoof. “Why don’t you come with me? Maybe we’ll find your husband while circling the dome.”
Upper Crust stared at her hoof as if not knowing what it was, but then accepted it and stood. “Yes… Yes. I have to at least try, right?”
“That’s the spirit,” Octavia said with a smile.
The light of day was beginning to fade, and Rainbow was bone tired. Sweating, sore and angry, she was finally coming to accept that she wouldn’t be getting into the barrier by sheer force. She hovered a few feet from the great dome, hooves crossed and glaring. She’d seen what had happened to the ponies within the barrier, and there’d been no sign of Pinkie, Rarity, Twilight or even Spike! They had to still be inside, and probably turned to crystal like all the others.
So now what?
She’d been thinking and pounding away at the barrier all day. It wasn’t going to budge, and her endurance was more or less at its limit. She let out a bitter groan and started circling the dome, downcast eyes scanning for the only other Element Bearer left to talk to. She found Applejack on a hill a half-mile from the dome, sitting with Nye and Jimmy Stone.
“I’m guessing you didn’t have any luck either?” Nye asked, lying on his back in the grass as she landed among them.
Rainbow kicked the ground with both back hooves in frustration. “I couldn’t so much as dent the thing! If Twilight were here she could probably use magic in some way.”
Applejack looked no less worn out, having been trying her own physical methods of attack. “Ah dunno what we’re gonna do, guys. We can’t even contact Princess Celestia without Spike!”
Rainbow sat on the ground and rubbed her head, which was starting to hurt from both too much thinking and too many crashes against the barrier. “There has to be something! If only we knew what had caused this in the first place.”
There was a long moment of silence as they all considered the situation.
“I wonder,” Nye started from his lounging position. He hesitated, but then went on. “Maybe that unicorn me and Jimmy spotted in the castle has something to do with it.”
Jimmy nodded solemnly. “He may. Looked like a sinister guy to me.”
“Wait,” Rainbow asked, “what unicorn?”
Nye waved at the castle. “Yeah, right when this whole thing started. We spotted him while we were flying away, talking to some weird cat-snake thing up on the castle’s highest balcony.”
Rainbow and Applejack gave one another uncertain looks. “And he wasn’t turned to crystal?” Rainbow asked.
The brothers shook their heads.
“Wah didn' ya’ll mention this before?” Applejack asked critically.
Jimmy answered. “Well, when we landed you two were already hard at work trying to break in. We were so busy trying to help, and the opportunity never came up.”
“Yeah,” Nye acknowledged. “If either of you had slowed down we might have mentioned it.”
“Wait,” Applejack said with hoof raised, “What did this feller in the castle look like?”
“Big unicorn,” Jimmy answered.
“Black mane, dark gray coat,” Nye added.
“Chipped horn.”
“Chipped red horn.”
“Mean-looking.”
“Hold it!” Rainbow practically shouted. “Was he wearing this ugly armor and a red cape?”
“Did he have a crown?” Applejack added worriedly.
The brothers gave one another questioning looks, as if trying to ask one another for confirmation, then nodded to them in unison.
“But… That sounds like King Sombra,” Applejack noted.
“No way,” Rainbow replied in a tone of nervous doubt. “We saw him get his when Spike brought the Crystal Heart to Cadance. We were there!”
“Hey, that’s what he looked like,” Nye countered with a helpless shrug.
“King Sombra…” Jimmy whispered. “I’d heard of him. Who hasn’t? But how could he be back?”
“Now we really have ta get in there,” Applejack noted. “If he’s back it means real trouble!”
Rainbow paced, wishing somepony with a better brain for thinking was around. “Well… I dunno. We could go back and get Fluttershy. At least then we’d have all six of us around.”
“But with half o'us crystallized inside, we can’t use the Elements o'Harmony,” Applejack pointed out. “Ah don’ think we’ll be able ta use ‘em ta solve this, Rainbow.”
Rainbow let out a frustrated sound and sat on her haunches once more. “This is so annoying! If only we had Twilight, or even Rarity! We can’t break through that barrier without magic!”
“Well,” Nye said, standing up and looking at the steadily-darkening sky, “we might as well find a place to rest, preferably someplace away from this dome. Gives me the creeps.”
“Rest?” Rainbow cried, “How can you talk about rest?!”
But Jimmy had a quick answer. “When I was flying around the dome earlier I noticed a lot of ponies fleeing to the north. Why don’t we head that way and see if we can’t find them? Maybe one of the crystal ponies knows something that can help.”
“Hey, yeah!” Applejack was on her feet. “An' ah bet there’ll be some unicorns with ‘em. Come on Rainbow, it’s worth a shot.”
“Yeah… Yeah!” Rainbow rose in the air, already feeling pumped up. “Let’s do this! We’ll figure this out even without the eggheads!”
Upper Crust lay on her stomach by the fire, Octavia sitting nearby. She was in a horrible state, and not because she had been trekking around the Imperial countryside for an entire day. There hadn’t been any sign of Jet Set, so she could only assume the worst. After traversing the perimeter of the city they’d finally agreed to follow the crystal ponies north. And here they were, taking refuge in a frigid cave just outside the protective, warming magic of the Empire. She was cold, she was hungry, and she was afraid.
But more than anything she was ashamed. Her husband was in there somewhere, and when she’d seen the barrier coming the only thing she’d thought to do was flee. Not even a pause to consider him. What kind of pony was she? What kind of wife? And she had the nerve to think she deserved to be called an Important Pony of Canterlot. What a joke.
But that hadn’t been the worst part of her day. Just a few hours ago Applejack and Rainbow Dash – two of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony – had arrived at the cave. For a beautiful moment everypony thought the Empire was saved. But now they all knew; three of the Element-bearers had been caught in the disaster. That meant the Elements of Harmony wouldn’t be able to help.
To most, including Upper Crust, this was like the trumpeting call of doom at their backs.
She cast a sad glance at Octavia through her disastrous mane. The Earth pony had been very optimistic all day. Perhaps it had been a ruse, perhaps not. When they’d reached the cave and found all these desperate crystal ponies, the musician had decided to try using her instrument to keep spirits up. It had helped…some. But now the cello was back in its case, and the attractive mare was just sitting there, staring at the flames.
Had she lost hope, like Upper Crust? Had she possessed any hope to begin with? There was no way to know, but she appeared very serious, her face shifting mysteriously in the fire’s light.
The upper-class pony listened quietly to the two Element Bearers, who were not far off. With a certain dull interest she stood and walked a little closer.
“…really is no other option?” Applejack was whispering, so as not to awaken the sleeping ponies.
“It’s the only one we haven’t thrown out,” Rainbow Dash replied in an unhappy tone.
“But do ya really think ya can make it through the snowlands at night?” her orange-coated friend asked. “Ya might end up a rainbow-flavored popsickle.”
“I’ve got to try,” she replied, though there was clear worry in her voice. “There’s no telling what Sombra’s doing in there. We need Princess Celestia’s help sooner, not later.”
A white pegasus, which Upper Crust hadn’t noticed before, appeared near the entrance of the cave. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? We could look out for one another.”
But Rainbow Dash shook her head as she tugged on a saddle. “Sorry Jimmy, but I’m gonna be moving at top speed to get through the snowlands, it’s my only chance. You just won’t be able to keep up. I appreciate it, though.”
“Ah still don’ like it,” Applejack muttered, “but if it’s the only way. Jus' wish there was somethin ah could do in the meantime.”
“I should wake Nye,” Jimmy suggested, “he’s going to want to—”
“Nah, let him sleep,” Rainbow interrupted. “I don’t want him to worry. Besides, I’ll be back before ya know it.”
“Well, if you insist,” Jimmy replied, doubt in his voice.
“Be careful, Rainbow,” Applejack called.
“No worries, this is me you’re talking to!” Rainbow turned from the entrance to strike a gallant pose. “I can handle it.”
Everypony gasped, Upper Crust included; black clouds were suddenly forming from behind Rainbow. “Look out!” Upper Crust was surprised to realize she’d been the one to issue the warning.
Rainbow spun about, let out a cry and jumped back. Everypony took on an aggressive pose – except Upper Crust, who took a few fearful steps backwards. Who would it be? Some menace from the city? King Sombra himself?
But then the smoke cleared and there was a stallion, a very familiar unicorn with a mottled-brown coat and black mane.
Upper Crust ran forward, anger filling her. “You!” The other ponies gave her shocked looks, clearing having not noticed her before. “The egg thief!”
Fine Crime gave her a curious look. “Egg thief? As I recall the egg’s still sitting in its case in the museum, isn’t it? Nice that you remember me, though.”
She paused, realizing he was right. “Well… Yes. But…but you still brought down the yacht. And… and…I just don’t like you!”
“Uhhh,” Applejack stepped between them, “excuse us, but who the heck are either o’you?”
“Yeah!” Rainbow was hovering just over the ground and glaring at Fine Crime suspiciously, “And where the heck did you come from!?”
“Me?” he asked with a mild grin, “I run a blind-date service for dragons.”
Everypony stared, dumbstruck.
“My name is Fine Crime,” he went on as if everything were perfectly normal, “and I am here to help solve our Sombra crisis.”
“Good luck with that,” Rainbow Dash snapped.
“Yeah,” Applejack added in a less offensive tone. “We’ve been lookin fer somethin ta get us through the barrier all day long!”
“What makes you think you can do it?” Rainbow concluded.
“Well I used to be an alicorn, back before I realized how dull flying is,” he answered. That made Rainbow sputter in disbelief.
Fine’s horn glowed, and a book appeared from his saddle. “But I also brought this, a little antique that has lots of information regarding the Empire and the Crystal Heart.”
“Whoa,” Jimmy cried, “where’d you get something like that?”
“Stole it from the Crystal Empire’s history department not long after the place came back,” Fine replied. “Thought it might come in handy in situations like this.”
Upper Crust took a daring step forward. “So you are a thief!”
He waved a hoof at her. “No, no, no, I run a blind-date service for dragons, remember?”
They all face-faulted.
“Is this guy fer real?” Applejack asked.
“Who cares?” Rainbow countered, “He’s got something that might help us!”
“Oh, I intend to do a lot more than that,” he said, suddenly very serious. “I was given a very specific job: to help the Element Bearers defeat King Sombra with all the resources I’ve collected. And I didn’t just bring a book.”
“Really?” Applejack asked, looking him up and down uncertainly. “What else did ya bring?”
He grinned smartly and turned to look at the sky just beyond the cave. “An extra set of wings.”
The pegasus zoomed down from the sky, lightning streaking in her wake, and landed on four hooves with a prominent crack. She stood tall and proud, with a light green coat and amber mane.
Lightning Dust scowled. “You didn’t mention that she was going to be here,” she snarled.
Fine cast a critical look her way. “Does it matter?”
“This is your ‘extra wings’?” Rainbow demanded, flying in his face. “Even if she does break through the barrier – which if I can’t she sure as hay can’t – she’ll probably kill half the ponies in the Empire doing it!”
“Hey,” Lightning snapped, “none of that was my fault.”
“Not your fault?! You—”
Rainbow was brought down by a hard tug on her tail. “Play nice, RD,” Applejack ordered. “We’ve got more important things to worry about than old grudges.”
“Indeed, Lightning,” Fine Crime threw in with a scathing glance. “We have to take care of Sombra.”
The two pegasi glared at one another, but it was Rainbow who finally spoke up. “Fine. Truce?” She spat on her hoof and offered it. Lightning peered as if expecting it to be hiding a knife, but finally copied the motion and accepted the hoof bump.
“Now that that’s all settled,” Jimmy ventured, “why don’t we take a look at that book?”
But Fine Crime shook his head. “Not necessary, I already have a plan. I just brought the book as proof that I knew what I was doing, and to answer any questions with direct evidence.”
“What?” Applejack tilted her head at him. “Y’all only jus' arrived. How’d ya form a plan so quick?”
“Egghead,” Rainbow noted in explanation.
“I read this book front and back,” he explained, “and learned as much as I could about the Crystal Empire as soon as it reappeared. You need to know such things in my line of work.”
“As a dragon’s blind-dating service guy?” Jimmy asked with raised eyebrow.
“Exactly!”
A round of exasperated sounds came from everypony else.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I thought up the plan on the journey over here.”
“I’ve got a plan,” Rainbow interrupted, jumping up in the air. “Why don’t ya give us that book and let the professionals handle this?”
Fine Crime’s expression became cold as ice. “Time is of the essence. What King Sombra’s doing is enslaving the minds of his captives, and the longer we wait the more ponies we’ll have to fight to get to him.”
“Brainwashin’?” Applejack sounded horrified. “But Twilight an' the others are in there!”
“And a princess,” Jimmy added.
“But,” Fine Crime continued, “if you think you can come up with something before he’s taken over the minds of all of them, be my guest. You’ve got about a week.” He tossed the book at Rainbow, hard. She caught it and almost smacked the wall in her recovery. “Or…you can listen to my proposal, and we can get started first thing in the morning.”
Rainbow and Applejack shared fretful expressions. “Alright,” Applejack said after a moment, “what’s this plan o'yers?” Rainbow nodded her acceptance as well.
Fine's dark expression melted almost immediately, although he was still very serious. “Before that, I need to round up the players. Jimmy Stone, wake your brother up. You both are going to have a part to play in this.”
“Us?” Jimmy reared back to wave his hooves in a denying manner. “Whoa, whoa, we’re just engineers. You’re talking to the wrong pony!”
“No, Jimmy,” Fine countered reassuringly, “you and your brother must be part of this. Especially Nye. Wake him.”
Jimmy was visibly concerned, but went to do as he was told.
Fine turned to somepony hiding just outside the light of the moon. “Upper Crust.”
“What?” She approached, looking not just a little frightened. “M-me? Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t have anything to offer.”
“Everypony’s part is critical,” he explained, “and yours is key. Without you this plan may not work at all.”
“But… But I’m not…” She was trembling at the sudden attention. “Th-this isn’t the same thing as the yacht, Fine. It’s way over my head!”
“It’s because of the yacht that I know you can do this,” he replied.
Another pony appeared, setting a calming hoof on Upper Crust’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Upper Crust,” Octavia said in her stately manner. “I believe in you.”
“We all do,” Fine agreed, then cast a glance around at the others. They all nodded, though most couldn’t hide the doubt from their faces. “And you too, Octavia.”
The cellist blinked and gave him a serious look. “Me? I’m willing, but why?”
“Because you’re willing.”
She considered his answer solemnly before then nodding.
“Alright then,” he declared with a smile, “everypony’s in play. Now where are those twins?”
“We’re here,” Jimmy announced, approaching with his half-asleep brother in tow.
“Ah, good. Nye, snap out of it! You brought some of that transmittal potion with you, right?”
Nye blinked sleepily, struggling with his unkempt mane. “Wha…? How do you…? I mean, yeah, I’ve got it.”
“Good. Octavia, we need to borrow some sheet music.”
Her eyebrows rose. “But… why?”
“Because Nye’s got a letter to write.”
Upper Crust had a lot of doubts about her place in this plan. About the plan in general. About the pony who’d come up with the plan, even. Yet there she was, standing on a tall hill about a mile from the great shield, Octavia and Rainbow Dash close by.
The very first concern she’d had was in that Nye pony. How could someone as clearly unimportant as him be friends with somepony as phenomenally important as the Princess Luna? It seemed outright laughable. But a few hours after he’d sent his letter – by dissolving it in some magic potion, of all methods! – trains began to arrive with scores of unicorns from the Equestrian Reserve. The princess had answered the request with haste, and by morning an entire regiment of unicorns were spread out around the shield. It was mind-boggling!
Needless to say, this abrupt display quieted all doubters regarding Fine Crime’s connections. She kept wondering who he really was, how he knew so much, and how he could call upon such resources. It was now obvious that he was no mere thief; something far bigger was going on.
Right now, though, Upper Crust’s primary concern was her own role in this plan. He was asking her to do something she’d never tried before, and it was not just a little intimidating. She gazed at the massive shield, which from her carefully-selected location was entirely visible. How was she supposed to form an estimation on its weaknesses? She might be a unicorn, but magic was certainly not her forte.
She didn’t have a forte.
She glanced nervously at Rainbow Dash. She wasn’t at all like the elite ponies of Canterlot. Upper Crust guiltily remembered laughing at the idea that the Element-bearer could be important. Had she only known who she really was at the time…
Seeing her was throwing terrible questions into the elite pony’s mind. Rainbow was an important pony, but she wasn’t an Important Pony? How could she not be? But all Upper Crust’s Canterlot logic – a lifetime of following the elite philosophy of life – was telling her this was not possible.
She was so horribly confused! And after watching Rainbow all morning to gain an appropriate estimation of her speed, Upper Crust was only more confused.
And then there was Octavia. She wasn’t an Element-Bearer, but she was beautiful and intelligent and ready to help. Her confidence was humbling at the very least.
Compared to these two, Upper Crust felt like dirt.
And then there were all the other ponies involved in this plan. Applejack, another Element-bearer. What more needed to be said? Jimmy Stone, an engineer with such a prominent family legacy. Lightning Dust, whose bravery, skill and self-confidence rivaled those of Rainbow Dash. Fine Crime, mysterious and strange but clearly capable of great things. Even Nye – lazy, chubby, with a roving eye – was supposedly friends with a princess!
Upper Crust wasn’t dirt. She was something lower than dirt. Manure, perhaps.
A pegasus soldier was flying overhead, blowing on a trumpet to signal that all the unicorns were in position. Upper Crust crouched anxiously, almost certain this was all over her head.
“You’ll be okay, Upper Crust,” Octavia noted in her elegant fashion. Sometimes Upper Crust hated that voice; it managed an elite elegance in a manner that was enviable. “We’ll get your husband back, you can count on it.”
Upper Crust nodded feebly. “Yeah… I hope so…”
The cellist smiled comfortingly. “Don’t worry. Do it for your husband. We have faith.” And with that she left, going down the hill to get ready for her own role in this plan. Upper Crust watched her leave, wishing the kind pony could stay.
“So hey,” Rainbow asked once Octavia was gone, “you up to this?”
“I… S-sure.”
Rainbow approached with a smug smile. “Don’t worry, you’re teamed with me, the best flyer in Equestria!”
Upper Crust frowned and glanced away, ears tucking down. “It’s not your talents that worry me.”
“Look, I know it can seem intimidating. I mean, everypony here is counting on you to get this done! But you shouldn’t do it for them.”
“I know…” Upper Crust muttered. “I should do it for my husband.”
“What?” Rainbow shook her head. “Forget him!”
That made Upper Crust pause. “What do you mean?”
Rainbow went on, “Sure, getting this done right will free him and all. It’s a perk. But if you ask me you shouldn’t be doing it for him.”
Upper Crust looked around in perplexity. “Then…who—?”
Rainbow pointed at her. “Do it for yourself!”
The elite pony blinked at the hoof as if not knowing what it was. “Myself?”
“Yeah!” The pegasus hovered just off the ground and set hooves to hips. “You’re worried, I get that. But suck it up and do your best! When this is all done you’ll be able to say ‘Hey! Look what I did!’”
“But…what if I—?”
“No, no, no!” Rainbow shook her head violently. “You can’t think like that. You’ve got to say ‘Yes I can!’ Now let me hear you say it.”
“Umm… Yes I can?”
“Is that supposed to be confidence? Again!”
“Yes I can.”
“Again!”
“Yes I can.”
“Ugh, you’re putting me to sleep!” Rainbow dropped down and got right in her face. “Scream it!”
“Yes I can!”
“Good!” Rainbow reared on her hind legs to strike a gallant pose, pointing at the shield just as the horn sounded the beginning of the task. “Now watch that shield and give me my cue!”
Upper Crust couldn’t believe it, but the aggressive pep talk had really worked! She felt a lot more sure of herself all of a sudden. Like…like this wasn’t such a big thing, after all. She could do this… Yes, she actually could do this!
The air was filled with streams of colors as all the unicorns around the dark dome fired off their magic at once. Upper Crust leaned forward and watched closely, eyes unblinking as the shield responded to the sudden assault. Its perfect uniform color started to change shades ever so slightly in places as the Crystal Heart fought to protect the city. Yes, the Crystal Heart, if Fine Crime was to be believed; its power had been corrupted so that it was now doing the exact opposite of what it was meant to do.
Upper Crust continued to watch, to focus as carefully as possible. How were the shades changing? How was the power of the magic determined by those shades? Could she see weaknesses, strengths, patterns?
And then, as the onslaught went on, she realized that in fact she could see it! Yes…it was gradually becoming clear. Almost obvious. She could guess at what points the great dome was weakening, could see how the shades shifted as the Crystal Heart struggled to account for areas that were under more powerful attacks. This was possible. No, this was doable! Her mind worked carefully, trying to process the entire dome at once, and somehow she was pulling it off.
“There,” she pointed at a spot on the dome. “Can you see it? The building with the spire, next to the three story?”
Rainbow squinted, hoof over her eyes. “I… Yeah. Yeah, the one between the white and red crystal buildings?”
“Above that,” Upper Crust muttered, still focusing on the great dome. “About a hundred feet up. That’s going to be the weakest point.”
“Got it!” Rainbow dropped into a launch-ready position.
Upper Crust raised a hoof in the air and studied. She had to recall Rainbow’s flight speed, how quickly she launched. Make the estimations, consider distance, check the wind by observing the trees, observe the power of the shield by its auras, note when the unicorns would reach their limit by the force of the magic in their collective streams… So much to process… But she could do it…
Now. She dropped her hoof, and Rainbow was in the air. Upper Crust didn’t stop watching; she had to see, to make sure she’d not made some critical mistake. If she did, then this entire operation was going to be a failure. Come on, let it be right. Come on…
Rainbow appeared, at this distance nothing more than a trail of colors. She was approaching the weak spot from a tall angle, her speed increasing phenomenally with each passing instant.
A sonic rainboom, at point-blank range. Right where Upper Crust had indicated.
The shield shattered instantly, pieces of the barrier flying out and dissolving in the air.
She’d done it.
“I did it…”
The Crystal Empire shined in the bright light of day, dome-free and surrounded by a magnificent circular rainbow.
“I did it!”
Upper Crust let out a shout and leapt in the air, a thrill like she’d never felt before washing over her.
“I did it I did it I did it!”
“I can’t believe she did it,” Nye muttered, staring in amazement at the clear blue sky.
“Who?” Jimmy asked, “Rainbow or Upper Crust?”
“Hello?!” Lightning snapped from overhead. “Get moving before the shield comes back!”
“Oh, right!”
The twins rushed forward, the other ponies already well ahead of them. Within seconds the barrier began to reform, and the brothers had to gallop for all they were worth to get inside in time. Jimmy had been afraid of this part; what if the barrier turned them to crystal like all the other ponies? But as Fine Crime had promised, nothing of the sort happened.
They all stopped a dozen feet inside, the world having gone a frightening shade of red within the already-regenerated shield.
“Alright, ponies,” Applejack announced with authority, “there’s no way Sombra didn’ notice that, so we gotta hurry!”
The air was filled with a cracking noise, and they all looked around in alarm. The crystals trapping the nearby ponies were beginning to break.
“Remember,” Fine shouted, “every pony that breaks free has succumbed to Sombra’s powers! They’re enemies.”
“We got it,” Octavia acknowledged.
“We know our part,” Jimmy added, hovering just above the ground. “You guys get going!”
“Good luck, bro,” Nye called, chasing after Applejack and Fine Crime.
“You too.”
Lightning Dust was already long gone.
Jimmy landed, back to Octavia as they stood alone amongst the cracking crystals. “You ready for this?”
“We’re about to find out. You?”
“I’m no fighter,” he replied, “but yeah, I’m ready.”
The crystals shattered, and from each one jumped a crystal pony. Their eyes were a bright shade of red, and they began to close ranks on the two defenders, snorting aggressively.
“Remember,” Octavia muttered, “we have to stay in sight of the castle. Keep Sombra’s attention on us.”
A moment of tense quiet passed as they stared their opponents down…
Nye was worried about his brother, especially considering how many crystals they passed on their way to the castle. But he took at least some solace in realizing that none of them were breaking open as they passed; Fine Crime had said it would take a full week for Sombra to enslave every pony. Perhaps Jimmy and Octavia wouldn’t have to fight too many?
It was a long way to the castle, but the galloping trip was quiet and uneventful. Nye was already sweating, for he just wasn’t used to this kind of exercise. He kept behind Fine Crime and Applejack so as not to be a burden. The mare was leading them, having been to the castle before and knowing the way.
When they were closing in on the castle Applejack finally broke the silence. “Looks like this cockamamie plan is workin’,” she shouted back to them. “If Sombra had noticed us comin’ we’d have been attacked bah now!”
“Octavia and Jimmy are doing their jobs,” Fine confirmed. He had a very ‘professional’ sound compared to before, or so Nye felt.
At last they reached the castle’s main entrance, but found it guarded by two surprisingly large soldier ponies. Early converts, apparently. The two guards approached, jousting spears set for an attack and looking very sharp.
Fine Crime glanced up at the castle. “No time to delay; I’ve got to get up there.”
“We’ve got this,” Applejack declared, going into a fighting stance.
Nye shot her a fretful look. “We do…?”
Fine Crime nodded his confirmation and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.
Nye might have made a comment regarding their need to stick together, but there was no time; one of the soldiers was charging him! He let out a horrified shout and dodged, just barely escaping the sharp tip of the lance. This was all wrong. He wasn’t a fighter! How could he have let them convince him to do this?!
The soldier was coming back for another pass. Nye managed to dodge the lance again, but the soldier had anticipated his move and adjusted just enough to land a hard shove, knocking the frightened pony on his side. Nye took a glance at Applejack and was amazed to see her perform a dodge-and-buck maneuver, knocking her opponent to the ground easily.
Wow. She was good.
No time to admire, his enemy was rounding on him again! Nye jumped to his hooves and decided to try the mare’s trick. He dodged, turned and bucked; his movement was too slow and his kick too weak. He only caught the soldier on the flank, and the stallion’s momentum sent him spinning sideways.
Well, so much for being a warrior.
He was starting to panic; how was he supposed to handle this guy? The soldier was rearing back, reading for a fourth attempt, and all Nye could do was stand there and wish his head weren’t so blank! He braced himself for impact as he realized that he stood no chance against this opponent.
A lance appeared out of nowhere, sticking in the ground just as the soldier approached. His legs got tangled in it and he fell on his face. Before Nye could even react Applejack was there to kick the soldier in the muzzle with a single hoof. He didn’t get back up.
Nye blinked, then turned to see her original opponent lying on his back nearby, unconscious and lance-less.
“Come on, Nye,” Applejack ordered, already running past him, “we’ve gotta get ta the Crystal Heart!”
“Oh, uh, right,” he called back, hooves sliding on the smooth glass floor as he fought to catch up.
Oh, yes, what a hero he was turning out to be.
Lightning finally found Rainbow, who was slowly crawling out of a pile of crystal rubble, all that remained of a building at ground zero of her sonic rainboom. “You okay?”
Rainbow Dash sat on her flank and shook the swirl out of her eyes. “Y-yeah… Just a little woozy from the impact.”
Lightning glanced up at the red barrier that now surrounded them. “I gotta admit, that was damn impressive. Think you can do it twice in one day?”
Rainbow climbed to her hooves, wobbled, straightened. “Yeah, I’m cool. But I’ll be sending Fine the hospital bill, ‘cause it’s really gonna hurt the second time.”
Lightning smiled, then remembered who she was talking too and shook the expression away with a grimace. “Come on, Sombra’s waiting for us.”
They rose in the air at the same time. “Yeah, just remember, stick to the plan!” Rainbow was off. Lightning muttered a derogatory comment under her breath before following.
They were halfway to the castle when Rainbow let out a warning. The two dodged just in time as a large red beam zipped past them. A moment later, they were floating above the balcony where Sombra was waiting.
“Well,” he called out to them with a wicked grin, “I see there are ponies in this day and age willing to challenge me directly! How refreshing; a little exercise.”
Rainbow gestured angrily. “I saw you die, Sombra! How the hay did you come back?!”
“And they dare to address me without permission! Such impudence.” He fired another laser, but Rainbow dodged easily. “You don’t need to know anything, for you are about to die.”
“Hah!” Lightning shouted, “We can take you!”
“Is that so?” Sombra asked fiercely. “Such arrogance. Your friends below will be overwhelmed soon. If this is the full scope of your attack, it’s woefully underponied.”
“We’ll see who’s arrogant after we’re done with you,” Rainbow countered, flying a quick flip and darting for the unicorn.
His horn glowed, and suddenly a torrent of beams erupted from its broken tip! Rainbow let out a surprised shout and barely dodged in time. The lasers, firing away with incredible rapidity, went for both pegasi at once, and they began an aerial dance of dodges and tricks. Now Lightning was worried; with that kind of firepower, how were either of them supposed to get close!?
It was all part of the plan. She had to keep reminding herself, all part of the plan.
Applejack and Nye were high in the castle by now, but had met minimal resistance. Most of the ponies they’d found were still encased in crystal. It seemed Fine had been right about the slow nature of Sombra’s magic.
The two were in a small hallway of brilliant crystal. “Alright,” Applejack said with relief, “the Crystal Heart should be right through—” She paused and let out a gasp. Nye wondered what had stopped her, but then entered the room and saw what she’d seen; Pinkie Pie and Rarity, both frozen in crystal. There was a third pony there, too. A stallion who, to his shock and amusement, was wearing Rarity’s dress.
And for that matter, she was wearing a green shirt that didn’t fit her at all.
“Do you like it? I think it’s hilarious!”
The two looked around for the voice, but couldn’t find the source. A strange clicking giggle filled the room; kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit-a.
“Up here, you silly ponies.”
Floating just below the ceiling was a grinning creature. Nye recognized it immediately as the cat/snake/dragon thing he’d seen talking to King Sombra back when all this mess had started. “Be careful AJ,” he said, taking on a defensive pose. “That thing works for Sombra!”
Applejack looked ready for a fight. “Are you the one who did this ta our friends!?”
“Oh, no,” the creature replied pleasantly. “I’m just the delivery girl. King Sombra thinks he has friends in high places!”
“Who are you?” Nye snapped, “And what are you talking about?”
The creature dropped down to land leisurely atop Pinkie’s crystal. “Me? I’m Tazel Wyrm. But that’s all you get; I can’t go and tell you everything, that would ruin the fun!”
Applejack stomped angrily. “Y’all undo whatever it is ya done ta the Crystal Heart, ya hear me? An' ah mean now!”
“Oh, so direct,” Tazel countered with a sigh and a dismissive wave. “How boring. Besides, I can’t fix it because I’m not the one who cast the spell.”
“Then get ready fer a poundin’,” Applejack snapped, pawing her hoof at the crystal floor, “‘cause we’re gonna stop ya an' King Sombra!”
But Tazel rose well out of their range, hovering upside down. “I would love to show you a few tricks – really, I would – but I’m afraid I just don’t have the time. You just take your precious Crystal Heart to your dear princess and I’ll be on my way.”
Nye was dumbstruck. “What? You mean you’re not gonna protect it?”
“Don’ listen ta her,” Applejack snapped. “She’s jus’ tryin’ ta trick us!”
“It’s no trick,” Tazel declared, flipping right-side-up once more and making a sincere gesture with her paws. It didn’t seem so effective with that mocking smile on her feline face. “Not this time, at least. Sombra wanted me to be happy with ‘guard duty’—” she said the words with a dull tone, “—but he’s just a pawn in a much bigger game. I have more important things to do. So you two run along and play. Who knows, maybe you’ll actually succeed!” And with that the creature clapped her paws together and disappeared in a puff of white smoke and a taunting kit-a-kit-a-kit-a-kit-a!
Applejack and Nye stared at one another in a shared state of complete confusion.
“It may be a trap,” she ventured.
“Well,” he replied, “only one way to find out.” He walked straight to the Crystal Heart, which shimmered a dark hue he thought strangely unnatural, and knelt down. The mare looked anxious, but went ahead and rolled the thing onto his back. It was a lot lighter than he’d expected.
As he stood up they both waited to see what would happen. Nothing did.
“Maybe she was telling the truth,” Applejack admitted, though her doubt was clear. She turned and approached the giant crystal that still held Rarity, whose fearful eyes following them from within.
“Don’ worry, Rare,” Applejack said, “we’ll get ya’ll out o'there soon. Ah promise!”
“That goes to you too, Pinkie,” Nye added. He shot a glance at the unicorn in Rarity’s clothes. “And you, whoever you are.”
“Come on, we’ve gotta hurry an' get ta the museum,” Applejack declared, already moving for the exit.
Nye followed, the Crystal heart carefully balanced on his back. “I know we agreed that Princess Cadance would probably be there,” he shouted ahead, “but what do we do if she’s not?”
“Let’s try not ta think about that,” she replied over her shoulder.
Lightning Dust and Rainbow Dash were in a tight spot. Neither could get close to King Sombra, his constant stream of lasers keeping them at bay no matter what trick or maneuver they tried. They were trying to work together as a team, but somehow he was good enough to keep them dodging. Both had been clipped by beams multiple times, though they’d managed to avoid any direct hits. That was a good thing; those near-misses hurt!
“Goddess,” Lightning snapped, barrel-rolling away from a stream of lasers. “Doesn’t this bastard ever get tired?”
“He’s probably wondering the same thing about us,” Rainbow added, reeling out of an attack dive just in time to avoid getting singed.
“Keep at it,” Lightning suggested. “I’m gonna try something!”
“Lightning, no!”
She didn’t listen, instead diving below the balcony. Rainbow was left to fend for herself for a few seconds, but then Lightning turned and began flying straight up. She’d have to time her turn just right…
Just as Lightning reached the balcony she adjusted her wings, turning sharply right at the villain. She was close enough to see his surprised face before they collided. For just a fraction of a second she thought she’d done it, but a large ball of energy appeared atop Sombra’s horn. It dropped between them and erupted.
“Lightning!”
She was knocked so hard she flew back out of the balcony and to the ground below, Rainbow hot on her tail.
Sombra hadn’t come away unscathed; his spell had hurt him too. He slowly stood, smoke rising from where the blast had burned him. But he was smiling, for he’d won. Those two pegasi had been no match for King Sombra.
“Having fun, your majesty?”
Sombra turned about slowly, effectively hiding his surprise. Stepping out of the shadows with face grim, Fine Crime approached.
“Hmmm,” the villain muttered with a sneer. “Another challenger.”
“Indeed,” Fine replied, his unicorn-bladed knife floating in the air just over his shoulder. “You’ll find I’m a bit more experienced than those two.”
King Sombra grinned wickedly. “Good! A proper warrior.”
“Oh, I’m no warrior.”
“No?”
“I’m an assassin.”
“The difference?”
Fine Crime considered the question. “Perhaps you’ll find out in a few minutes.”
Jimmy’s hoof cracked down on the back of his opponent’s head, and the crystal pony fell to the ground. Relieved, he turned to see Octavia finishing off her opponent with a powerful buck. He took a moment to observe their condition, and didn’t like what he saw. Jimmy couldn’t move his left wing at all, and Octavia had a nasty cut on her right shoulder that had her limping. They were bruised and tired, but at least they were still alive.
They gazed about the body-filled street, wary of more enemies. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’ll live,” she said with a wince and an unhappy look at her shoulder. “I might not be able to play my cello any time soon, though.”
“Look on the bright side,” he ventured helpfully, “maybe Princess Cadance will give us hazard pay.” That made her smile a little, at least. He glanced around at all the crystal ponies they’d managed to defeat. “I can’t believe we got through three waves! I’ve never fought a day in my life and I don’t want to do it again anytime soon.”
“You handled yourself pretty well,” she admitted, eyeing his wing with concern. “For an engineer.”
He sniffed dismissively. “I handled most of them with a flying advantage. Once they had me on the ground I was far less effective than you. Where'd you learn to fight like that, anyway?”
“I didn’t,” she admitted. “I’ve never fought before, either.”
“I don’t believe that. I was paying attention, and you’re dang strong.”
“Cellos aren’t light,” she noted with a weak smile. “Actually, I exercise as part of a health routine. If I’m going to join the elites someday I’ll have to look the part.”
He blinked. “You mean you’re not already an elite?”
She blushed self-consciously, looked away, then took on an abrupt fighting stance. “More of them!”
“Aww, great,” Jimmy muttered, turning to face the approaching crystal ponies. He glanced up towards the castle, but the laser display from before was over. “I hope they resolve this soon. We can’t keep this up for much longer!”
“Where are they?” Nye shouted from behind Applejack. “Where the heck are they?!”
“They’ve gotta be around here somewhere,” she replied, worry in her voice. They ran through the halls of the Crystal Museum, scouring every room. Nye’s back was getting sore from having the Crystal Heart’s hard edges rubbing back and forth on it.
He cursed under his breath. “If they’re not here we’re in a lot of trouble! Fine could be fighting Sombra at any time now.”
“If he isn’ already,” Applejack admitted. “Come on… Come on… There!”
They spotted a quartet of crystals in a large red room decorated with threatening-looking displays. They rushed in and were relieved to see Twilight, Princess Cadance, Shining Armor and Spike.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Applejack cried, rushing at Twilight’s crytal. “Twilight, can ya hear me?”
“There’s no time,” Nye snapped, moving quickly to the princess.
“Yeah, yer right,” she admitted, casting an apologetic look to her friend and then joining him. She stood before Princess Cadance, whose alarmed eyes were following her. “Princess, ah dunno if ya can hear me, but we brought the Crystal Heart! Ah sure hope ya can do somethin from in there.”
There was no way for the princess to signal her understanding, or lack of understand for that matter. There was nothing else for it; Nye approached and let Applejack push the Crystal Heart up against Cadance’s crystal prison. Together they worked it until it was just about even with the princess' horn.
Cadance’s eyes stared at the Crystal Heart. There was a long, drawn out pause.
“Oh, boy,” Nye whispered. “Tell me this is going to work.”
“It’s gonna work,” Applejack replied. “It has to!”
Another long pause.
Then a spark. And another. Slowly, as if struggling to escape the confines of the crystal, a small pink pulse flowed from the horn. At last it reached the edge, from whence it shot out like electricity and ensnared the Crystal Heart! The jolt knocked the two ponies backwards, but when they looked up they saw the heart floating in the surging energies. A few seconds later another stream of magical energy appeared, this time flowing from Shining Armor. And then a third from Twilight.
And at last the Crystal Heart erupted with light.
Fine Crime fell to his knees, a large gash across his chest. Sombra roared his victory, a reddish-black sword of energy floating triumphantly over his head. Fine Crime huffed and heaved from exertion, but he’d known that this fight could have only gone one way. After all, he was no warrior.
But King Sombra hadn’t come away untouched. He was bleeding from a cut over his right eye, and several smaller wounds covered his body. Dents were all over his armor, too. Fine had landed many hits, but in the end it had only taken one from Sombra to seal the deal.
Tired but pleased, Sombra pointed his magical weapon at Fine’s head. “You fought well, assassin. I think there might be a place for you in my coming retinue.”
“No thanks,” Fine replied. “Then again, I might reconsider if..."
Sombra raised a dark eyebrow.
"How'd you come back?"
The evil being laughed. "It's the great mystery, isn't it? Fine, since you proved so capable.” He pulled his sword back, a menacing grin on his lips. “When the Crystal Heart was restored, it only broke my curse of immortality. What every pony in the Empire saw was my spiritual form returning to my mortal body."
Fine was shocked, a rare event. "You mean you're mortal now?" That knowledge would have made this all much easier.
"But my powers have grown because of it!" Sombra leveled his weapon once again. "Now, join me or die."
Fine gave the tip of the sword a bored look. "Sorry, but I have a boss."
Sombra gained a toothy grin. “Well, it seems she has good taste in champions. I’ll have to give that Celestia witch I've heard so much about my compliments before I cut off her head.”
Despite the sting in his chest, Fine laughed. The reaction earned him a dark look from the king. “You’re sadly mistaken,” he decalred, spotting the light in the distance.
Sombra sneered, but his confusion was clear. “Oh?”
“I’m no champion.” Fine slowly got to his hooves. “And I don’t work for Celestia.”
The light blasted its way into the room, spectacular and blinding in its brilliance. King Sombra let out a surprised shout and started to turn around, but Fine Crime’s dagger was darting through the air. Encased in an empowering glow, it sliced neatly through Sombra’s horn at the base.
The dark unicorn let out a howl of pain, backing off towards the balcony as blood seeped from the wound. Fine Crime charged, smashed right into him, and they were outside.
That was the precise moment Rainbow Dash appeared.
A second sonic rainboom. Point blank range.
Just as planned.
An explosive, rainbow-colored wave shattered the balcony to bits. A dark-colored unicorn, minus his horn, plummeted to the hard Earth below, screaming in pain and rage.
He awoke slowly, rainbow-colored lights still echoing in his vision. Fine groaned, his entire body aching. He lifted his head to look out over the rubble of the ruined throne room. Bright sunlight was streaming through the giant hole that had once been a balcony window. Wincing from the pain in his chest, he slowly picked himself up and studied himself. The wound wasn’t fatal. Hurt like hell, but not fatal.
Rainbow Dash was lying in a crater-like hole in the floor, face down. He rolled her over carefully and saw with relief that she was still alive. And awake.
“Tell me somepony saw that,” she mumbled, “‘cause it will not be happening again.”
“Oh, they saw it, all right.” Fine turned to see Lightning Dust, her chest and face black and smoking from her close encounter with Sombra. “It’s the only thing anypony in this town can talk about.”
He slowly approached the shattered wall and looked down to see a city full cheering, celebrating ponies. “Well,” he said pleasantly, “we pulled it off.”
“Yeah, we did,” Lightning snapped venomously, “but we’re not the heroes. Listen to them!”
He did, but all he got was a lot of noise. “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”
Lightning let out a vicious snarl. “All they saw was her sonic rainbooms! As far as the entire Empire’s concerned, she’s the hero! The only hero!”
Fine sat, glad to be off his hooves once more; standing was really painful right now. “You can’t have everything. We won, isn’t that enough?”
“No, it’s not!” Lightning flew out to hover right before him. “I joined this gig because you promised me a chance to be recognized again. Well guess what? I’m right back where I was when we first met! Forget this, I’m gone!”
And she was, a streak of lightning disappearing in the distance.
He sighed. “She’s gonna take a bit more work.”
“Can I get a band aid?” Rainbow muttered, waving her hoof weakly. “Or a drink? Maybe a nice bed and some cider? Ugh…”
Night had fallen on the Empire, and the celebrations were still ongoing below. Fine Crime, chest covered in bandages, was sitting in the throne room, staring up at the waning moon.
Octavia limped from the shadows, her shoulder bandaged. “Alright, Fine, I’m here,” she muttered.
“So you came after all,” he noted happily, gesturing that she should sit next to him. She did, albeit at a distance. “I’m glad at least one of you did.”
“I guess I had to,” she admitted. He gave her a questioning look, to which she replied, “The others, I don’t think they understood the significance of your arrival last night. You didn’t stumble into this like the rest of us; you came with a purpose. You knew a lot about all of us, enough to know that despite our problems, we’d agree to help. I don’t know about them, but I’ve never met you before, and that tells me something.”
He smiled. “And what does it tell you?”
“That you didn’t pick us arbitrarily,” she concluded. “You knew who you were going to pick before you arrived, maybe even before this whole crisis began. You’re no thief, Fine. I don’t know what you are, but you’ve clearly got plans, and I want to know what they are.”
His smile broadened a touch. “This is exactly why my boss said you might be overqualified.”
She blinked. “Overqualified?”
“Yes, overqualified. Doubts were raised about whether you might be too good for this team.”
“Team? What team?”
“The team I’ve been trying to assemble for the past two-and-a-half years. The team she wanted me to create.”
“The team who wanted you to—?”
Her words were cut off by the interruption of a soft light coming from the moon. Octavia rose and took a cautious step back, wondering what in Equestria might be happening now. She was getting tired of these surprises…
Then she saw the outline of the alicorn steadily approaching them. She gaped, rendered momentarily numb as Princess Luna, ruler of the night, landed softly right before her. She dropped to a bow as quick as she could manage with her bad leg.
“You’re late,” Fine noted half-seriously.
“Royal business,” the princess replied.
Octavia couldn’t believe what she was seeing; Fine wasn’t even bothering to get up from his sitting position!
“No others came?” the princess asked. She seemed disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Luna.” What? Not even a ‘princess’ before her name? Why was he being so… so… normal with her?! “I tried to convince them, but it seems this team is going to require more work.”
Luna heaved an unhappy sigh. “It is alright, Fine. I only hope we have time, or perhaps that my premonitions are inaccurate.”
“Well, in the meantime,” he continued, rising to gesture at Octavia, who was still stuck in her bowed position, “allow me to introduce candidate number four: Octavia Melody.”
“Four?” Octavia rose ears low as she stared up at the princess. “I don’t understand.”
“That is to be expected, Lady Melody,” Luna declared, making the cellist flinch in surprise at being directly addressed by a princess. “The investigations were performed such that you never knew what was happening.”
“What investigation? …your Majesty.”
“You didn’t know it,” Fine Crime answered with a pleasant smile, “but you and the others have been under review for a long time now. And you, Octavia, are one of the ones that passed.”
“Passed?” She struggled to wrap her head around all this information she was being bombarded with. “Passed what?”
“I am forming a team of ponies, Lady Melody,” Princess Luna replied with a gentle smile. “A team to help the current bearers of the Elements of Harmony. A team of ponies much like myself, to prepare for a threat only a select few are aware of.”
Octavia looked to the princess, then to Fine Crime, then back. “And…you want me on this team?”
“Octavia,” Fine noted, “you helped us out today. You’re already on the team.”
The bright lights of the Crystal Empire shined in the distance. Tazel Wyrm watched from atop the mountain with amusement. The distraction had worked; nopony would be watching the horizon this night.
You could have come earlier, while King Sombra was still fighting.
“Yes,” she admitted, turning to gaze into the frozen-over caldera below her. “But I wanted to see if he’d win.”
Unnecessary. A waste of time.
“Yeah, yeah, relax. I’m still gonna get it.”
Be cautious, Tazel. Even for a creature such as yourself this is a dangerous task.
“Shut up and let me work,” Tazel muttered, clapping her paws. She concentrated on the magic, struggling to make it work.
Rock cracked and crumbled. Snow began to drop into a great maw within the caldera, and soon a massive fissure appeared below, glowing red with flowing hot magma. The creature worked, eyes closed and mind focused on her target.
It took effort, but at last she found it. The object pulsated with untold energies, reacting in its invisible way to her magical touch. Slowly, carefully she pulled it up through the liquid rock. She’d have been sweating, if she’d had sweat glands. The glow from the caldera was so bright it would have been clearly visible from the Crystal Empire. Good thing nopony was watching.
At last it emerged; a single massive mazarin-cut gemstone. It was a pale yellow and glowed with its own mysterious light.
At last. At long last! The Light of Day, hidden for centuries…
Tazel forced the fissure closed with a relieved sigh, then took the cool gemstone in her paws. It was heavy and beautiful, its gentle glow illuminating her feline face. “Lost for almost eighteen hundred years. The Unknown Princess was a clever one.”
Yes, but it couldn’t stay hidden forever. Gaze upon it, Tazel. Isn’t it glorious?
But Tazel only sighed. “I have no use for such things.”
Perhaps not, but through this, we shall achieve all we’ve ever desired! Come, let us go see Mane. This is news that must be shared.
Tazel turned to look out at the Crystal Empire once more. She observed it for several long seconds, then grinned.
