> The Advent of Applejack
>  by Mister Friendly
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: The Games We Play
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 1: The Games We Play


“Order. Order! This meeting will now come to order!”

The extravagant dining hall fell silent almost immediately, small conversations disregarded without a second thought. To all the ponies gathered around the lengthy table of polished mahogany, pleasantries had only been to fill the silence before the true purpose of their gathering in private came to light.

Candles flickered in candelabras set all along the length of the table, illuminating the many dishes and beverages yet to be sampled, along with the small gathering of primly dressed mares and stallions in their seats.

Each of the room’s inhabitants sat with regal distain in their chairs, some with their noses turned up prudishly as they waited in silence. Others eyed up the length of the ornate banquet table towards the head seat – a high-backed thing big enough to make a minotaur feel petite, covered in rich velvet and constructed with the most expensive lumber bits could buy. 

The occupant – a rotund khaki unicorn with a silver mane long-since bleached of its natural color by age – sat with his portly hooves steepled before his muzzle, his stormy grey eyes glancing this way and that to make sure his guests were giving him their undivided attention.

The pause was mostly a symbolic one, however. As much as he liked throwing dinner parties for his esteemed friends and acquaintances, that night had a very different goal in mind besides mere mingling, and he knew every one of this guests was well aware of that already. Once the word was given, all waited for him to get the ball rolling.

“My friends,” he began, his tone subdued and grim, “I doubt I need to tell you all why I have seen fit to gather all of you here tonight.”

A few of the ponies seated before him mumbled acknowledgements in a unified grumble that bounced this way and that around the room.

“I can hardly see why anypony wouldn’t,” drawled a high society mare haughtily, her eyes drifting around as if bored. “I mean honestly, less than a year ago, those little cretins were public enemy number one, and rightly so. Now they are living here in our great nation of Equestria. Actually living here!”

Several of her compatriots made their agreement known, one or two even daintily rapping a hoof on the table before them to better illustrate their opinions.

Then, another spoke up; a dark, charcoal stallion with an immaculately maintained silver mane topped with quite the spectacular top hat. “I do not mean to doubt the judgment of our fair princess, but to allow changelings of all things into Equestria so easily…” 

Once again, the room devolved into quiet, unsettled grumblings, each posh pony making their disagreement known but little else.

“Changelings…,” grumbled an elder mare with a rather spectacular bun done up atop her head, “I scarcely know what could’ve come over our glorious monarch to simply let their kind into Equestria, just like that, after everything they’ve done to us ponies. What terrible lapse in judgment this has been. Do we not get a say in the matter?”

“So far they’ve proven to be little else but trouble,” stated a stormy blue unicorn in a loud voice, “first brazenly attacking the capitol, even going so far as to strike down Princess Celestia herself, not to mention raining destruction all throughout Canterlot! My entire collection of authentic Griffon suits of armor, ruined in an instant by one of those wretches!”

A few words of sympathy were shared, more than one pony sharing in their comrade’s pain.

“Even an attack on some backwater, rustic village only proves the true vicious barbarism of these changelings,” said a grim-faced stallion, his gruff voice sounding almost guttural. “And now, because of some… farmer… who spent her whole life deceiving everypony around her, those very changelings are to be given free rein in the very country they tried to conquer not even one year ago?”

Loaded looks were shared throughout the room, each one knowing the answer if they had anything to say on the matter. But therein laid the problem.

“With the princesses championing their cause,” one of the stallions pointed out, “we have little say in the matter, do we?”

The mare with the bun huffed loudly. “I have nothing but love for our rulers, but sometimes I fear that Princess Celestia has too much of a bleeding heart for her own good. But of course, plenty have fallen in line behind her. Have you heard the rumors? Some have the... audacity... to dub changelings as the fourth pony tribe of Equestria! I am all for a good laugh from time to time, but this has long since lost any semblance of humor. I hope that the Princess of the Sun regains some of her sense, because this entire mess is getting spectacularly out of hoof.”

A few nods were given. While not a soul present doubted the wisdom held within the ageless alicorn, such a fact only further compounded the issue in the eyes of the aristocracy.

“It is not Princess Celestia that has done the majority of the championing, though,” pointed out the congregation’s host, gesturing with a hoof. “That would be the newest member of our royal family.”

Again, a wave of murmuring ran through the room, eyes turning towards their neighbors to exchange looks. But this time, the voices were spoken with disappointment and disapproval.

“So unfortunate,” sighed one of the patrons at the table. “So freshly out of the metaphorical gate, too, and already throwing her political career away, and for what? Deceitful little monsters?”

“I’m sure dear Princess Sparkle only needs some guidance,” remarked the mare with the bun atop her head. “Her family is quite reputable; I’m sure she will catch on to the way of things soon enough. She just needs some time to adjust.”

“Are you sure about that?” spoke up the host of the gathering, crooking a manicured brow at the mare seated halfway down the table from him. Seeing the quizzical look he got, the stallion elaborated, speaking in a tone like his every word should’ve been very obvious. “If I am not mistaken, it was one of Princess Sparkle’s closest friends that started this whole mess. One… Applejack, I do believe.”

One of the high society ponies gathered around the table – a light burgundy mare wearing an elegant dress – scoffed before anypony else could speak. “A commoner? Who would put any stock in somepony like that? No, the only reason she and her… congregation, let’s call it, have any sort of a foothold is because of whatever stunt they pulled to earn the princesses’ favor. Twilight Sparkle especially; her judgment cannot be the clearest in this situation, can it? Were it not for her and her history with the changeling leader, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation in the first place. Besides, have you heard some of the things that changeling has said? She claims herself not to be the one leading all of these changelings, and yet she has quite clearly identified herself as a changeling queen! How is anypony supposed to take anything that comes out of her mouth as fact?”

The gathering’s host gave the mare a curious look. “True, but Applejack's involvement in the grand scheme of things has been fairly minor. Princess Sparkle’s support is indeed one of the key factors to the escalation of this situation, but she, too, isn’t the lynchpin to this unsettling new paradigm. Princess Celestia, her sister and Princess Mi Amor Cadenza have all thrown their support behind this changeling takeover, not to mention various other... ahem... bleeding hearts with power to spare.”

“So then, what to do?” one of the stallions at the table asked. “We have only seen limited success, in part because we are going up against the decisions of the royals themselves.”

“Not to mention some of our peers do not seem to see the danger in trusting these creatures,” the mare with the bun pointed out with a slight wave of the hoof.

“That reminds me,” spoke up a posh pony in a dinner jacket. “Where is Fancy Pants? Or Prince Blueblood for that matter? Surely this would not be something for him to miss out on.”

“I fear Fancy Pants would not be of much help to us,” the mare with the bun sniffed. “I hear he personally took in some changeling to be one of his housemaids. Not to mention the fundraisers he’s thrown in the name of Applejack and her… colleagues…”

"Fancy Pants always did have a soft spot for ugly ducklings," somepony scoffed, batting a dainty hoof as if trying to push away something particularly foul smelling. "Just look at what he's done for Fleur Di Lis."

“And Blueblood?” somepony asked quizzically. Of all their supporters, Prince Blueblood had been the most for their cause, and he was one of the few out there with the wealth and influence to make any sort of noteworthy contribution.

The host at the head of the table waved a hoof dismissively. “Ah, he had prior engagements.”

“Not that he would be of much use anyway,” somepony noted in distain. “A wealthy brat such as himself wouldn’t be able to do anything unless it was spoon fed to him. Finances are well and good, but it's such a chore trying to get him motivated for anything not explicitly related to himself.”

“So then,” noted one of the guests, “where will that leave us? Surely something must be done before something else happens, but what are our options?” 

This time, no one had an immediate answer. This was the very point they’d been pondering over since the entire problem started, and just when they’d been beginning to make some headway, in came a new face in the scales of power; Twilight Sparkle. Once again, they found themselves infuriatingly grounded at square one, and to those at the table that night that weren’t nursing a growing worry, they were becoming increasingly frustrated.

Everypony fell quiet, grumbling a little in the background, some looking to one another for ideas. But, like before, no one seemed struck with inspiration. They had tried so many avenues already, but no matter what they did, the bottom line was always the same; the princesses had the final word. Their decision was absolute.

So then, what possible options did that leave them with anymore?

“Friends, friends,” their host said suddenly, his voice regaining the attentions of all of his guests. He batted his fore-hooves placatingly at each side of the table a few times until the gathering had fallen silent once more.

To their surprise, they found the stallion smiling lightly, as if his concerns weren’t nearly as burdensome as their own. “Let’s not work ourselves into a frenzy. Cooler heads will prevail, as they say. Sooner or later, Princess Celestia – and the rest of the court, for that matter – will see the error of their ways. We simply need to play our part to cushion the blow when it comes, that is all.”

Several of the gathered aristocracy exchanged bewildered looks. That had not been the large stallion’s stance before. He’d been the biggest worrier of them all, in fact. After all, he'd been the one to propose these secret meetings in the first place.

“Bullion… Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” asked the mare with the bun, cocking a curious eyebrow.

The portly stallion, Bullion, cracked a smile. “Mmm… perhaps. But you know me, my dear Vanity; I am no schemer, merely a listener.”

Vanity’s eyebrow hitched up higher still. “Oh? Then you have heard something?”

“Oh, do go on and tell us, Bullion,” one of the stallions stated, grinning despite himself as he leaned forward expectantly.

But Bullion only waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, it is just a feeling I have, my friends,” Bullion said knowingly. “Given the changelings’… disposition… I get the feeling that all of our problems will solve themselves in due course. Now… Why don’t we have something to eat? This is something of a dinner party, after all.”


~~***~~


Far away, far to the north, a pair of ponies made their way down a crystalline hallway that seemed to glow with its own light that defied the night itself.

It was an odd pair, to be sure; one that drew more than one set of eyes whenever their owners crossed paths with the strange duo.

One walked upon gilded horseshoes, her lavender hooves striking the lengthy rug just slightly too hard, as if not quite used to the extra padding and weight of the gold adornments on each hoof. Weariness did not help in the matter, either.

Twilight Sparkle ruffled her feathers – an action that was still quite novel, and every bit too distracting for what it was worth – and stifled a yawn. Even though she’d been spared having to wear a regal gown this time, the long hours made it feel like she was wearing some kind of weight anyway.

Her crown sat neatly – and very carefully – atop her head, nestling just behind her horn, but at the moment she was contemplating whether or not it was a good time to remove its unwelcome weight from her tired neck.

“Ah… what a day,” she remarked, trying to fill the silence in the crystal hallway. “The Crystal Empire certainly has gotten a lot more lively, don’t you think?”

Her question was aimed at the one tromping down the hallway beside her with decidedly less grace – partly because she, too, felt a lot more tired than she felt was fair.

But the one trotting along beside her was not a pony. She had no fur coat – only jet black, smooth chitin and a golden amber carapace upon her middle. Each and every one of her limbs – even her mane and tail – was shot through with holes, giving her a rather unhealthy look. 

Instead of having wings full to bursting with brightly colored feathers, hers were merely translucent membranes that occasionally twitched out an irritable buzzing sound. Her slightly curved horn bore a rather unsettling point to it – that, and a single notch near the back.

Her amber mane almost hid a small, spindly black crown topped with dazzling topazes that matched the color of her alien, double-ringed eyes – which were currently staring sullenly straight ahead.

As strange as this creature was, Twilight Sparkle had long since gotten over the unique strangeness of her friend. They had been put through more than one trial together, after all.

“What’s wrong, Applejack?” she asked, catching the look in the changeling’s eyes. “That went well, didn’t it?”

Applejack turned her amber eyes towards her friend, but her expression didn’t lighten all that much. “’Course it did, Twi’. That’s cuz ya and Princess Cadance were there ta do all the heavy lifting.”

Twilight tried to suppress a grimace, but it didn’t work too well. “Oh come on, you did plenty, too!”

At that, Applejack actually rolled her eyes. “Ya, sat there lookin’ pretty more like. Ah don’t know why ya keep tryin’ ta drag me into them meetin’s. Half the time they don’t even want ta see me there, and the rest of the time y’all handle things just fine without me.”

Once more, Twilight’s expression fell a little. Applejack hadn’t been in a good mood ever since leaving Ponyville – just like she always was whenever she had to make such trips. Well… technically she didn’t have to, but Twilight kept insisting that she accompany her whenever the topic of discussion was one in particular.

“Applejack, even if you don’t see yourself as their leader, you are kind of the face of the changelings in Equestria. You have to be there for situations like these.”

But again, Applejack seemed unmoved. “Twi’, ya know Ah ain’t some fancy court pony, right? Half the things y’all were talkin’ about in there went right over my head! Ah still don’t rightly get why we were called out in the first place. All Ah got was somethin’ ‘bout businesses and changelin’s and that was it.”

Twilight gave her reluctant friend a supportive smile. “Yeah, I know… but thanks for coming anyway. I know Cadance and Shiny were there, but having a friend like you in there with all those nobles helped me keep my head.”

At that, Applejack’s expression lost most of its edge. She knew Twilight was still getting used to being an alicorn, let alone having official duties from time to time that went above and beyond anything she was used to. But sometimes it was really hard to remember she was only a freshly coronated princess.

“Don’t mention it, Twi’. Ah still owe ya a whole lot for everythin’ y’all have done for us.”

At that, Twilight blushed in embarrassment, her wings ruffling still more. “It’s nothing, really. What are friends for, right?”

For the first time since arriving in the Crystal Empire, Applejack cracked a small smile. “Right…”

“Besides,” went on Twilight, her own smile growing, “it feels nice to have somepony else to relate to.”

Applejack couldn’t help but blink, nonplussed. “Beg pardon?”

“You know,” Twilight said, waving a hoof idly, “being a princess.”

Just like that, Applejack’s small good mood faded with a sigh. “Twi’, Ah know where y’all are comin’ from, but Ah ain’t no queen. Ya got more right ta that than Ah do. I just wish sometimes others could see it like that.”

While Twilight gave Applejack a searching look, the changeling pointed one hoof out a nearby window.

Beneath a starry, cloudless night sky, the crystalline cityscape of the Crystal Empire stretched out nearly to the horizon. Each house shone like an expertly cut gemstone, catching the light of the lamp posts and even the full moon with prismatic splendor, making even the smallest of homes seem like a priceless artifact.

For a moment, Twilight didn’t know what Applejack was pointing at, until she noticed a small gaggle of ponies eying the window. They were all clearly tourists, considering not one of them gleamed like a living gemstone. In fact, if Twilight thought about it, she realized that some of that group looked rather familiar…

“Changelin’s always follow me around, waitin’ ta see what Ah do,” Applejack said, sounding forlorn. “It’s like they’re expectin’ me ta do somethin’ all special-like everywhere Ah go.”

“That’s because they look up to you, AJ,” Twilight pointed out.

To her surprise, Applejack actually fidgeted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze and frowning. “Ah ain’t all that special,” she mumbled. “Ah ain’t like you, or like Rainbow. Ah’m just a farmer, and havin’ more expected outta me just don’t sit right with me!”

Applejack sighed, reining herself in a bit. She recognized the irritably burning sensation in her chest, and quickly did her best to subdue her fraying temper. “Sorry. Ah didn’t mean ta get all heated like that.”

“It’s okay, Applejack,” Twilight reassured, but she was still watching her friend carefully. “It’s been a pretty long day.”

Applejack sighed heavily, now not quite able to meet her friend’s gaze. “It’s just… Ah don’t see the point in me comin’ to these sorts of things. Ah ain’t nothin’ more than a farmer, and that’s all Ah want ta be.”

Twilight pursed her lips. She wanted to argue to the contrary – that Applejack was so much more than just a farmer, that she had hundreds upon hundreds of others looking to her for support. Yet, if Twilight did stress the point, she’d just be waging the same battle she’d been waging for months now. And considering how irritable Applejack was at the moment, pushing the point probably wouldn’t be the best idea she’d ever had.

Luckily for her, she was spared any further comment when Applejack slowed to a halt. “Welp, this is me,” the changeling said, gesturing halfheartedly towards a set of large double doors set into a recess on the wall.

With a start, Twilight suddenly realized how far they’d walked. Were they already at their overnight suites? It just didn’t seem possible for a moment.

“Oh, uh… right,” Twilight said, shaking her head to clear it. “Well, goodnight, Applejack. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Twi’,” Applejack responded with a yawn, then made for the door.

But a moment later, just as Twilight had turned towards her own room, she heard a dull thump followed by a startled hiss behind her.

Twilight turned her head around quickly, worried, only to find Applejack standing in front of the double doors, lightly wringing one of her forehooves.

“Applejack? You alright?”

The changeling turned to look at her, then waved her off. “It’s nothin’. Just sore from workin’ the orchards, that’s all.”

Again, Twilight winced. She knew that Applebuck season was only a few days old, but missing even one was weighing very heavily on Applejack’s mind. The fact that she’d come at all had taken no small miracle.

“We’ll head out first thing in the morning,” Twilight promised. 

A moment later, she lit her horn, and with a thought, undid the latch to door to Applejack’s room. “Sleep tight, AJ. And… Thanks for being here today. I really can’t thank you enough, Applejack.”

Applejack blinked, and for the second time that day, she offered a small smile. “Don’t mention it, Twi’. Yer the one who did all the work.”

Twilight smiled kindly, and a few moments later, the two went their separate ways.

As soon as Twilight had disappeared within her own room, however, Applejack paused to eye her own door critically, then the bottom of her hoof with a confused frown.


~~***~~


Applejack’s suite was exactly the thing she’d been dreading it would turn out to be; needlessly huge, with a whole bunch of fancy odds and ends like plush couches, more fluffy sitting cushions than she rightly knew what to do with, and a whole bunch of other things she just didn’t see the need for. The entire room must’ve been as big as all of the bedrooms back home combined.

The lights had been dimmed, but all that did was point out how massive the windows were on one side of the room, which must've been big enough to fly the whole Wonderbolts team through with room to spare.

She only needed a bed, a bath and a mirror. Everything else seemed so… needless. Perhaps her mood was making her overly critical of all the wasted space around her, but she just couldn't help but note how impractical all this room was.

But as she trudged up to towards the bed, something caught her eye.

Something was placed neatly at the foot of the enormous bed set to one side of the chamber; something that seemed to be wrapped with regular old brown paper.

The ordinariness of the object was something of a system shock for Applejack, considering how her day had been. She curiously cantered closer, eyeing the object with a raised eyebrow.

It was just a simple brown package, visible in the moonlight cast from the absolutely huge windows lining one end of the room. On it was a simple postage address, and – sure enough – it was addressed specifically to her in a rough scrawl.

She blinked, then carefully bit down on one of the strings holding the thing together and tugged it apart, laying the contents of the package bare.

And there, looking back at her, was the brightly illustrated cover of a book, featuring a mare swinging through the air on a vine, evading the snapping jaws of hungry crocodiles.

The title of the conspicuous book was blocked by a small piece of paper that looked like it’d been crumpled up, smoothed out, and crumpled up again nearly a dozen different times, until the owner had finally decided to write a few simple words:

“Go nock em dead, cowgirl!”

Applejack sighed, almost completely ignorant of the wide smile tugging insistently at her lips. “Rainbow…,” she chuckled as she shook her head in disbelief. 

She didn’t even mind that the brash pegasus hadn’t spelled ‘knock’ right. The simple gesture of having one of her beloved books sent on ahead – possibly even on the very train she herself had reached the Crystal Empire in – was more than enough to put a smile on her face.

For a brief moment, Applejack allowed her thoughts to drift back to home. Specifically, whether or not a certain ornery pegasus was making a pest of herself on the farm or not…

Applejack sighed to herself, then raised one hoof, intent on picking up the Daring Do book.

She was interrupted by the sound of a faint, crisp click on the marble floor behind her.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Every muscle in Applejack’s body went stiff, her breath catching with an audible hiss. Then, slowly, she turned her head towards the source of that low, purring voice.

And there, standing exactly in the path she herself had just walked, stood a changeling, his eyes glowing icy blue in the dimly lit room. Applejack could only barely make out more than his silhouette and unsettlingly fixated blue eyes.

Applejack didn’t panic; she kept herself calm, even if every muscle in her body remained primed for action.

She knew a few things to be true. Firstly, none of the Equestrian changelings would ever call her ‘Your Highness’, at least not to her face. 

Secondly, the look this changeling was giving her was totally unlike the unsure, even nervous glances of the drones she’d met already. There was an intensity to this drone’s stare; a discipline that altogether unnerved Applejack the most.

“Ya know,” Applejack commented dryly, “it ain’t real smart sneakin’ up on somepony like me.”

“I apologize,” the drone said, his voice completely devoid of even the faintest trace of repentance. “Under normal circumstances, I would not bother you at such a late hour.”

Applejack eyed the drone carefully. Experience had taught her not to let her guard down, but at the moment she was trying to think up some options. If this changeling turned out to be less than friendly…

“So then, why are ya here?” Applejack inquired while she turned to face this possible threat.

“I come bearing a message,” the drone responded simply. “I am going to use my magic for a moment. Please to not be alarmed.”

While the drone’s warning did take Applejack by surprise, it did little to ease her tensions as his horn came alight with acidic green energies.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the drone levitated a plain cardboard box out from behind him, bringing it forward to rest between himself and the on-guard apple farmer.

“This arrived in the mail for you this morning,” the changeling informed Applejack, who in turn bristled.

“Are ya tellin’ me ya want through my mail?” she shot.

The drone, however, remained unmoved. “For your protection only,” he informed her plainly.

“And how is messin’ with my private things goin’ to protect me,” Applejack challenged, now quite incensed. She could tolerate all of the attention she’d been garnering of late. Digging through her personal affairs, on the other hoof, was taking things way too far.

But again, the drone remained unfazed. “Perhaps you do not totally understand the gravity of your actions, Your Highness,” he said emotionlessly. “You have made some very, very powerful enemies, Applejack; enemies who would eagerly see you burn for what you’ve done.”

Applejack paused for a moment, her anger temporarily ebbing somewhat in order to give way for something darker. “Ya mean… The other queens? Is that who yer talkin' about?”

“Yes, I am,” the drone responded with a nod. “In one stroke, you managed to strike them all exactly where it hurts them the most; their powerbase. You have successfully set the changeling world on its head all by yourself, and there are many out there who are none-too pleased about it.”

“So then,” Applejack shot, her eyes narrowing, “Are ya here to threaten me?”

For the first time, the drone showed some vague semblance of emotion. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he paused for just a moment to take in Applejack’s words. “Threaten? No; I’m afraid you misunderstand my purpose here. I am here to warn you, Your Highness. If I, or any changeling meant you any harm, you would not be getting such advance notice.”

“Good ta know,” Applejack said bluntly.

“As I told you,” the drone went on, and as he did so, he lifted one hoof to gesture towards the package sitting between them, “I am only here to deliver a message.”

“And that is?” Applejack inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

But the drone said nothing more. He merely kept one hoof pointed at the package and let that gesture speak for him.

Applejack frowned, then looked down towards the box between them. It wasn’t big – perhaps big enough to hold a melon. It’s outer surface bore obvious signs of being tampered with – a poorly redone seal sat broken and taped over, and the box’s corners bore rather disturbing signs of being singed by magic.

For a moment, Applejack merely wondered if the drone was making an appearance only because he’d botched covering up the evidence of his deeds. And yet still, something he’d said made her think that simple guilt had nothing to do with this.

“So what’s in…,” Applejack started to ask, looking up towards… nothing. To her complete surprise, she found the space across from her completely empty. She hadn’t seen the flash of changeling magic, nor heard the buzz of insect wings. It was as if the intruder had simply ceased to be entirely…

Applejack blinked, looking around for a few more minutes with similar results. But there was simply no trace of her mystery intruder.

Then, she returned her eyes towards the little package resting before her. It sat almost innocently, waiting for somepony to pry its top open.

But Applejack hesitated. She had a very bad feeling in her gut, one that she could not shake.

You have made some very, very powerful enemies, Applejack…

The young changeling bit her lip, eyes locked on the little – yet ominous – package meant for her, one apparently worrisome enough to warrant tampering with.

And yet, here it was.

Yes, Applejack had a very, very bad feeling indeed…


~~***~~
	

The sun had long since gone to bed by the time the dining hall in one of Canterlot's finest mansions emptied. Carriages were summoned, more than a few lengthy goodbyes were said, and soon the party of some of Canterlot’s wealthiest dispersed into the night.

This time, however, Bullion’s party guests left in decidedly more optimistic spirits than had become the norm for his little private parties. Frowns were lighter, conversations not quite so subdued. It was a marked improvement over the conclusions over his last few dinner parties, and the portly stallion couldn’t help but smile at the improvement.

He stood by the door, seeing each of his guests out as they waited for their carriages to sidle up the drive. The early summer breeze played with the many manicured hedges and flowering bushes on his lawn, wafting the scent of the night lightly under his nose.

“Really, Bullion,” remarked Vanity again, regaining his attention, “what are you hiding? What would it hurt to share a bit?”

Bullion chuckled lightly at the mare’s curiosity, but held fast. “My dear, my only secret is insight into the changelings’ nature, from what they’ve already demonstrated of course.”

“Of course,” Vanity replied, eager for more information. But Bullion was in no mood to give it. He was a tease; a notorious tease at that. The more someone tries to dig information out of him, the more he’d dangle it just out of reach for his own personal amusement.

Bullion merely smiled knowingly at Vanity and gave her a little wink. “Perhaps you are looking a touch too deep into this, my dear. Now, off with you; the hour is late, and it wouldn’t do to be worn out for the coming Summer Sun Celebration.”

Again, Vanity gave her host a curious look, but this time said nothing. The Summer Sun Celebration was a few days away yet; why bring it up at all?

Bullion gave a start when the clock in the hallway behind him boomed a low melody, chiming the hour. “Oh dear, is it really that late already?” he remarked. “Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

Vanity laughed lightly. “Perhaps I should be the one telling you to get some rest.”

Bullion laughed heartily. “Perhaps you should! Ah, how time flies…”

As he spoke wistfully, the rattle of wooden wheels heralded the arrival of one final carriage as it trundled to a halt before the front steps. It was a black, vintage thing, far and away from the shiny, sleek contraptions at the beck and call of the rich and famous.

Immediately, a young stallion hopped out of the front seat and towards the carriage’s door, bowing respectfully. “Your ride, ma’am.”

Bullion had to restrain a chuckle. Where Vanity had gotten her taste for such antiques he would never know, but her fondness for them always tickled his funny-bone.

“Well then,” Vanity said with a smile, “I suppose I must take my leave now. But please, Bullion, do keep me in the loop. I’d hate to think you were leaving your colleagues out of some grand scheme.”

Bullion made a show of clutching at his chest in mock surprise, grasping theatrically. “My dear Vanity, you wound me! Why, I would never do such a thing!”

His last guest humored him with a little laugh, but said nothing.

“Besides,” Bullion went on, his expression settling into an easy smile. “I believe I told you myself, did I not? I am a much better listener than a schemer.”

Vanity restrained a sigh, though her disappointment wasn’t so well hidden. “Oh well, can’t blame me for trying. Good night, Bullion.”

Farewells exchanged, the two went their separate ways in perhaps higher spirits than they had for a while.

Vanity allowed her chaperone to magic open the carriage door for her, and in she stepped, already eager for home as the door clicked shut behind her.

“Ah, what a night,” she sighed, slumping in her plush seat. In the darkness afforded by the curtained windows of the carriage, the posh mare allowed her smile to slip from her lips, instead replacing it with a dull countenance. Within moments of the carriage setting off, it was as if the mare seated within the shadowed interior had transformed into somepony else entirely. “What a dull night…”

“Is that so?”

Vanity jumped, stifling a gasp.

Too late she realized that the shadows' protection was not hers alone. There was another figure seated directly across from her, and had she not spoken, Vanity would never have noticed her.

But now she could. She could just make out the shape of a slender mare seated across from her with a poise to put every one of the aristocrats at Bullion’s party to shame.

As the carriage passed by a street lamp, a thin blade of orange light cut through a gap in the curtains, momentarily exposing a deep blue cheek and steely silver eye of the one seated across from Vanity, but did little else to shed light on her identity.

And yet, it was all Vanity needed to know exactly who she was dealing with. Still, she remained motionless out of surprise for a moment, struggling to recompose herself quicker than her shock could subside.

“I… was not aware you’d… be here already,” Vanity said, her usually smooth voice jittery.

“Time is not a luxury I can afford to spend idly anymore,” the mare stated in a low, smooth tone as soft as velvet. “Especially when I do not know how much of it we have left.”

“That’s… a fair point,” Vanity said slowly. “Still… do you not think that your being here might be a bit… rash?”

“If I wanted your opinion,” the mare said stiffly, “I would’ve provided you with one.”

Vanity flinched. “My apologies. I was only thinking of your safety.”

The one opposite her spared Vanity any further remark, but even in the dark, the posh mare could feel the other’s eyes on her.

“What did you learn tonight?” the mare asked. Her voice was slightly too level and soft to make it sound like a demand, but nopony could’ve missed the implication in her voice.

At this, Vanity managed to recompose herself, choosing to adopt a business-like demeanor. “It seems that Bullion does believe that something will be happening alright.”

The shadowed mare was silent for a moment, her eyes turning to eye out the narrow slit between the curtains of the carriage and out towards the rapidly disappearing cityscape of Canterlot. “A pony who actually pays attention… will wonders never cease,” she commented after a moment of pondering.

Vanity continued to watch the mare’s barely visible profile, wondering if she should speak at all or not. Fortunately for her, it never came to that.

“This means we’ve wasted enough time,” the mare said without inflection. “I’ve grown weary of their hemming and hawing. Things need to be set into motion. Now.”

With that, she turned a sharp eye towards Vanity, who immediately sat up straighter. Even if the posh mare couldn't quite make out the other's expression, just having her eyes set on her made her feel like she was being smothered.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Vanity repressed a gulp, then nodded. “Yes… Your Highness.”

The mare regarded Vanity for a while longer, her gaze unreadable even if it could be seen. "Good."

Then, she turned her head, metallic silver eyes resting idly on the dwindling lights of Canterlot. She rested her cheek on one hoof, and lapsed into silence. But on the inside, the gears of her mind continued to turn rapidly. There was still so much to do...

For her sake, I hope Queen Applejack is in something of a receptive mood. Games are not something I intend to be playing for much longer...
	
	
> Chapter 2: Preparations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 2: Preparations


It’d been fortunate enough that Twilight hadn’t been snuggled down in bed long enough to make her cranky when somepony started knocking urgently on her bedroom doors.

So she may have magically opened one of the double doors just a wee bit harder than what was called for. As in, she hit the door with such a telekinetic shove that it smashed against the wall hard enough to crack the crystalline surface.

It was only by chance that Applejack had been rapping her hoof on the other of the two sides of the door. Of course, she stopped the moment she witnessed what fate had just befallen the other half.

The moment Twilight laid eyes on the amber-maned black figure of her friend, however, her understandable irritation immediately receded. “Applejack? Is something wrong?”

“Uh…,” was the changeling’s response, still eying the door Twilight had flung open wide. “Is… now a bad time?”

Any other time, and Twilight might’ve answered in the affirmative. But the look on Applejack’s face hinted at something very urgent indeed.

“Not if it’s something of an emergency,” Twilight prompted. True, some of her irritation put an edge to some of her words, but she could see it in the amber eyes of the changeling in front of her; an emergency very well could’ve been the case

As Twilight looked her friend over, she couldn’t help but notice something strange balanced on her back; a small, slightly grubby-looking cardboard box. “And… what’s that?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Applejack glanced back for a moment, then pursed her lips. “The reason why Ah’m here.”


~~***~~


Both mares sat across from each other in plush chairs, their eyes centered on the suddenly foreboding object sitting silently on the glass coffee table between them. The only sound between them – and the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner – was the occasional anxious buzz of Applejack’s gossamer wings.

“And that’s all he said?” Twilight inquired. Her voice was calm, yet analytical. Though she’d started to panic a bit when Applejack told her about the intruder and his mentioning of angering the other changeling queens, she’d immediately been drawn to the mystery of the parcel he left behind. Now, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Yep,” Applejack responded, not nearly as intrigued as she was worried. She’d become accustomed to some of the behaviors of changelings over the past few months, especially the ones from the wilds to the south of Equestria; their predisposition towards servitude and trying to please their queen – namely her, now. That was taking some doing to iron out, but it was improving. But this caused her to wonder if it was going over as well as she’d thought…

“So, the message is in the box?” Twilight inquired, a hoof on her chin.

“Ah guess,” Applejack grunted. “Haven’t look inside just yet. Thought ya’d want a crack at it first.”

If there was a pony out there more capable of discerning any sort of magical booby-trap, Twilight was at the top of Applejack’s list.

Twilight frowned, continuing to run one hoof under her chin absently, her eyes fixed on her latest puzzle. “Well, the box doesn’t really look all that airtight, so I doubt it’s filled with some sort of poison.”

Applejack had never even thought about that. Just another reason she felt reassured in coming to Twilight first.

“But,” Twilight went on, “if it’s changeling magic, I don’t know what all I can do.”

They had all learned early on that changeling magic wasn’t quite like the brand wielded by unicorns. It was similar, yet abstract enough to resist most forms of unicorn probing and countering. Even with the other changelings in Ponyville to help shed some light on the subject, the simple truth was that the very nature of their magic wasn’t something so easily overcome.

When Twilight caught sight of Applejack biting her lip, she couldn’t help but pause, then hastily add, “but, at the very least, I can find out if it has a spell on it.”

That was true, Applejack realized. Recognizing changeling magic was much different than countering it.

The pair of them lapsed into silence for a time after that. Applejack waited for Twilight to finish thinking while the lavender alicorn continued to puzzle in silence, her wings ruffling every so often.

“Well,” Twilight said, immediately gaining Applejack’s undivided attention, “I guess there’s only one thing to do.”

Applejack braced herself when she saw the violet shimmer of light envelope Twilight’s horn. She watched apprehensively as the box was wrapped in a similar sheen of magic, the apple farmer’s breath catching.

But nothing happened. At least, not visually. Twilight closed her eyes, and for the next few minutes, her face would occasionally twitch every now and then, the slightest crease of a frown popping up from time to time only to nearly instantaneously smooth out again.

The fact that it took so long only worried Applejack still further. Magic may not be her forte, but she could tell that Twilight had found something; something that seemed to be confusing her.

And yet, after ten minutes, the only explanation she got came when Twilight’s eyes opened again, her brows knitting together for real now as she said perhaps the most anticlimactic thing Applejack had ever heard.

“Huh.”

Applejack waited for a little bit for any further explanation, but Twilight only seemed more puzzled than ever.

“Did ya find anythin’?” Applejack prompted, trying to keep her impatience in check. It didn’t really work, judging by the slightly sheepish look Twilight gave her.

“Well… yes, but… I don’t know…,” Twilight muttered. “There’s something in there, no doubt about it. But it’s so weak…”

Twilight glanced up at Applejack, and the two looked at each other for a bit. “Well, I guess there’s really only one thing left to do,” Twilight said quietly.

If Applejack had been tense before, it was nothing to what she was after that. But she only nodded to Twilight, muscles keyed.

Twilight gulped, then very carefully, she lit her horn, sliced the sealing tape… and threw the top open wide.

Immediately both mares dove to the side, hitting the ground as fast as they possible could and threw both hooves over their heads protectively.

The silence in the room seemed to bear down on them, punctuated every so often by a soft tick… tock…

After almost ten ticks of the clock, Twilight nosed her muzzle up over the edge of the table, big eyes fixed on the grubby little box still sitting innocently in the center of the table.

“Well… that went well,” she noted, sitting up as Applejack peeked her head up as well.

The box still sat in the same spot, totally unchanged, save for the flaps thrown open wide on the top… and a dull bottle green light smoldering from within.

Again, both mares exchanged a look, and then Twilight lit her horn once more, reached out her magic into the box before her, and gingerly hefted the object within into the air.

Out of the box rose a perfectly round, peerlessly smooth ball the size of a melon. It looked to be made of flawless glass, or perhaps some kind of gemstone. Its interior was cloudy and marbled with innumerable shards of colorful imperfections. And at its heart glowed an otherworldly, eerie light that seemed to dully flicker like a muddled candle.

The moment it entered the open air, something caught Applejack’s attention. Something hissed through the air all around her, like the distant sound of somepony’s voice…

“Do y’all hear that?” she asked quietly, eyes locked on the strange object.

“Hear what?” Twilight asked, ears pricking up.

Again, Applejack heard the sound, louder now. It was still too distant to make out anything besides inconsistency, but there was something there… muttering in the distance…

“Ah can hear somepony,” Applejack muttered, leaning in closer, eyes narrowing.

She heard a sharp gasp, and suddenly the glassy orb was thrust back into its box, disappearing from sight. Before Applejack had time to process what’d happened, the flaps on top were slammed shut and the tape knitted back together.

The next thing Applejack knew, Twilight was – for some reason – apologizing to her. “I-I’m sorry, Applejack!” Twilight said hastily. “There must’ve been some sort of spell I couldn’t find! I should’ve been more thorough, or taken more precautions, or…”

“What in the wide world of Equestria are ya goin’ on about?” Applejack asked, baffled. “Nothin’ happened, did it?”

But Twilight continued to give her a look border-lining on panic. “But Applejack… I couldn’t hear anything.”

Applejack paused then, her chitin crawling. “Wait… what?”

“I couldn’t hear a thing,” Twilight repeated, her eyes wide. “Whatever you heard… it wasn’t a normal sound. It wasn’t a natural sound.”

Applejack’s heart thudded hard in her chest.

While she continued to reel, Twilight continued to weave spells over the seemingly harmless cardboard box, sealing it off under layer upon layer of protection.

With one last enchantment that glowed in the shape of a keyhole upon the box’s top, Twilight immediately turned her eyes back towards her friend, looking her up and down critically.

“We should get you checked out, just in case,” she said urgently. “I don’t really know what happened, but that was obviously magic meant only for a changeling – and probably just for you. We have to make sure you’re alright.”

Applejack nodded, only now her heart was lurching for a new reason. If the other changelings caught wind of this, it would kick up a panic for sure.

“But Ah feel fine,” she tried to argue, flapping her holey legs a little. “We’re just gonna make everyone worry back home.”

“I’m willing to take that risk if it means preventing something potentially serious happening to you,” Twilight said, quickly rising from her seat. “Now come on! There has to be a changeling around here somewhere to do a checkup on you. We’ll have this cleared up in no time, then I’ll have that… whatever that thing is checked out in greater detail.”

Applejack could only sigh and haul herself up. She knew it was pointless to resist, but deep down she wished she could.

Ah feel just fine. All this is gonna do is make Roseluck and the others worry… Dagnabit, it ain’t like it did anythin’ ta me anyway. What’s the big deal?


~~***~~



A few days later…


Applejack was thrown back into wakefulness hard enough to cause her to leap partway out of bed with a cry, forget what she was doing, and promptly slam face-first into the hard, unforgiving floor.

Certainly, it wasn’t her best morning.

Applejack took a moment to allow herself a groan, one leg twitching in the air. She’d at least fallen onto a nest of her bed’s sheets – cast off during the fitful night – but it only cushioned the blow so much.

She stayed in place for a couple moments, half on and half off her bed, staring off grumpily to one side across the room. She tried to cast the residual images from her sleep from her mind, both too agitated to deal with them and too anxious to face them anyway.

A nightmare… it was just a nightmare. Of course it was… my friends would never…

Applejack suppressed a shudder, but the longer she sat there, the more and more her dream slipped away, until all that remained was the terrible aches and pains in her chest and the thing that’d thrown her back into awareness; a familiar sight of endless acres and ordered rows of trees sprouting from rolling hills and fields, standing in defiance of the distant, untamed bulge of unchecked forest, standing dark and vast.

And farther still, deep within the shadowed woods, a light was radiating like a beacon – like a second sun…

The sight of that light had filled Applejack with a sense of dread far worse than anything before it. She didn’t want to go there. She didn’t want to know what it was…

Applejack shivered again. She had to find something else to put her mind to. She instead stared across her bedroom floor; across the familiar worn floorboards and to the bright green and yellow wallpaper lining the walls, punctuated at regular intervals by a big, red apple.

It’d been a few days since she’d returned from the Crystal Empire, yet it still felt like she hadn’t quite returned to her normal routine. Heck, not much of what’d once been her ‘normal routine’ existed anymore, but she’d at least grown used to her double life as a farm pony and changeling educator. 

She left most of the heavy lifting to some of the more capable changelings in town, such as Roseluck, but every now and then Applejack herself had to be called in. It wasn’t backbreaking work in any degree, but it could be time-consuming at times.

It was only when she was called out of town for problems beyond her capability of even addressing that things started to get… complicated. And things hadn’t quite gone back to Applejack’s new normal since returning just yet, something she became all-too aware of after a few moments.

Birds were singing merry little tunes outside her bedroom window, but it still took Applejack a minute or two to realize that these were no roosters heralding a new day, and what that implied.

She’d overslept, and by quite a big margin, by the looks of things. The sunlight pouring in through her uncovered window had long-since shed the last trace of dawn, and now its golden rays filled the room top to bottom.

“Dagnabit,” she growled, springing upright and bolting for the door. She was never going to hear the end of this…

But when she reached the door and pushed one hoof against it, she immediately recoiled with a hiss. 

An acute pang raced up from her hoof to her elbow, hitting her hard enough to make her reel back a bit. Confused – and a little accusing – Applejack looked down at the bottom of her hoof with a frown. But all her eyes found was the usual orange coat of fur, and as quickly as it'd come, the inexplicable pain was gone.

So, she tried again, only this time she shoved the door open without any difficulties whatsoever. She may have even overdone it a bit, considering she ended up knocking open the door so hard it banged loudly against the wall.

But that only gave Applejack more cause for concern, rather than alleviate what she already had. Only now she had suspicion to go along with it.

Don’t tell me…


~~***~~


As she’d thought, Applejack had slept in. The household was devoid of inhabitants – even Granny Smith was missing, probably making one of her rare trips into town for something or other. She tended to do that from time to time when she had something special in mind.

Unfortunately, it was Granny Smith herself whom Applejack wanted to talk to. For a moment, she considered pursuing the Apple family matriarch into Ponyville, but she only entertained the idea for a moment or two. She’d already lost too much time; she couldn’t put off tending to the apple-laden orchards any more, and going into town would only bog her down even more.

It can wait, she reassured herself, then made for the front door. Not like it’s gonna happen right this second. 

Still, Applejack looked back at her hoof with another frown. But why now, after all this time?

She sighed – nothing she could do about it, after all – and instead headed for the door. There was still plenty of work to do; there’d be plenty of time to sort through other things later.

But it seemed that the current rhythm of her day wouldn’t be so easily changed. Applejack found that out the moment she pried open the front door and took only a solitary step over the threshold.

There was a pegasus waiting for her, likely having spotted the apple farmer from an open window. A few puffs of dust were still settling around her cyan hooves, but otherwise it looked like she could’ve been standing there all along.

The moment Applejack laid eyes on her, Rainbow Dash was already giving her an expectant look. She had a pair of flight goggles around her neck, and a conspicuous second pair gripped lightly in her mouth, which was curled up in a hopeful smile, her eyes gleaming brightly.

Just the sight of the eager pegasus drew Applejack up short, and then sigh. “Oh sugarcube, not this again…”

Rainbow, unfazed, spat out her spare pair of flight goggles onto the ground with a small “pleh”, her smile still in place. “Oh come on, Applejack!” she said. “At least hear me out.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but decided to humor the ornery pegasus anyway. Not like she had much of a choice to begin with, but she decided to go with it regardless.

This had become something of a routine for the two of them. Every so often, Rainbow would turn up, bound and determined to teach Applejack how to fly.

But Applejack was having none of it. Besides having only used her wings once or twice in her life, she had very little ambition of getting more than a few feet off the ground again, especially after the last few airborne experiences she'd had – namely, the series of spectacular crashes.

But, ever since Rainbow’s wing had healed up after the battle with Vigil, she’d been just as determined to get her friend airborne as Applejack was determined to do otherwise.

So, the two friends headed off into the orchards, side by side, locked in a battle of wits. Sort of.

“Please?”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “RD, that’s gotta be the most unconvincing argument y’all have made so far.”

But that only made Rainbow perk up more. “So that means you were convinced by something I said?”

“Yep,” Applejack chuckled, “that yer nuttier than a fat squirrel’s winter food stash.”

Rainbow didn’t even pause in her attack. “Come on, AJ; don’t pretend like it wasn’t awesome to fly yourself. You know it was.”

Applejack rolled her eyes again. “Rainbow, the last time Ah flew, there was a tower fallin’ on me.”

“Yeah, but it was awesome, right?” Rainbow said, nudging her friend’s side knowingly.

Applejack raised her eyes to the sky in exasperation, but there was a good-natured smile on her face. “Sugarcube, are ya ever gonna give this up?”

“Nope,” Rainbow replied immediately, grinning smugly.

Applejack turned an eye on Rainbow then. “And what about Twi’? or Scootaloo fer that matter? Ah bet they’d love gettin’ some flyin’ lessons in with ya.”

Rainbow shrugged, waving a hoof. “Yeah, sure, but Twilight’s more interested in reading up on it first. Seriously, she had, like, all the books from my school in Cloudsdale. She’s going full egghead and it’s kinda starting to freak me out. And Scootaloo, well, she likes hanging out more than anything. She just keeps making me demonstrate moves over and over. I, heh, kinda get carried away and forget what I was doing.”

Applejack didn’t bother holding back a small chuckle at the mental image she got; Twilight, sitting on a blanket in a field, nose buried in some dusty old foal’s book with avid curiosity while a short ways away, Scootaloo watched the skyward form of Rainbow Dash doing loop-de-loops and corkscrews through the air as if the filly could see for the first time in her life.

“Anyway,” Rainbow went on casually, “none of them would be as awesome at it as you. I mean think about it; we race all the time your way. It’s about time we do it my way, too, and once I’m done with you, you may even stand a chance.”

Applejack chuckled again, shaking her head. “Rainbow, do me a favor and never take up bein’ a salespony.”

Rainbow gave her a confused look. She got the sneaking suspicion she was about to be insulted, but she couldn’t quite be sure. “Uh… why?”

“Yer terrible at givin’ sales pitches.”

While Rainbow frowned indignantly, Applejack couldn’t help laughing a little louder.

“Okay, how’s this as a sales pitch,” Rainbow shot. It was clear that she was incensed now. “Think about how handy it’ll be to reach all those annoying apples way up in the trees!”

Applejack didn’t say anything. Instead, she sidled up to a tree as they were about to pass it and, still smiling to herself, smacked one hind leg into it with confidence, ejecting every single apple from their branches and dumping them en mass into awaiting baskets huddling around the tree’s trunk.

She then just gave Rainbow a humorous look. “You were sayin’ somethin’?”

Rainbow frowned, which of course only spread Applejack’s smile wider. But the prismatic pegasus wasn’t quite so easily dissuaded. “Come on, AJ, just once? You might actually have fun, you know.”

Applejack slowed then, sighing softly through her nostrils. “Odds are. But it’ll have ta wait, anyway, so there's no point in arguing over it.”

Seeing the look Rainbow gave her, Applejack added – in a patient voice – “Ah don’t know if ya noticed, but Ah’ve got work ta do. It’s Applebuck season, so Ah can’t be takin’ all that much time off. It ain’t fair ta Macintosh. And then there’s the Summer Sun Celebration ta be worryin’ about…”

But Rainbow barely seemed to notice Applejack trailing off. She was too focused on something else, something far more important. “So you’ll try? You’ll go flying with me?”

AJ sighed. “Ah ain’t promisin’ anythin’, sugarcube. Ah got too much work ta think about before then. Once the harvest’s done… we’ll see.”

But Rainbow had heard what she wanted to hear. Her smile grew to almost Pinkie-levels, and there was a definite bounce in her step from then on while she suppressed a cheer.

Applejack noticed, but she kept her chuckle to herself. She didn’t want to admit it, but seeing the cyan mare in that kind of mood always drew a similar one out of herself, too. And at the moment, she needed it.


~~***~~


The two headed deeper into the verdant orchards, heading out towards the east at a decent clip. With Applejack in a hurry to catch up with her chores, and Rainbow easily keeping pace a few inches off the ground, they made good time.

The whole way, the two talked about little things – Rainbow’s latest stunt endeavors, the weather forecast and what it might mean for the orchards, and a number of little things of little importance. It was easy conversation, though, and Applejack found her heart all the lighter for it.

It wasn’t until they were almost to Applejack’s destination that Rainbow paused, her grin slipping somewhat.

“So,” the pegasus started slowly, “is everything alright? I mean, nothing’s bothering you, right?”

Applejack paused mid-step and looked at Rainbow curiously. Seeing the wordless question in her eyes, Rainbow went on with a shrug.

“You slept in today,” Rainbow said plainly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “You never sleep in.”

Applejack’s smile wilted, and when she saw it, so did Rainbow’s. “I’m right?” she asked, suddenly realizing the potential was true. She’d only been trying to get the ball rolling, not make accurate predictions.

But Applejack remained quiet for a bit. She instead turned back to look down the rows of trees filled with dappled light trickling in through the dense overhead canopies.

For a moment, reluctance plagued Applejack, and Rainbow could see it plain as day on her face; the uncomfortable grimace, bordering on disgust. It was the same expression she’d worn the night Rainbow had found out the truth about the apple farmer.

Something squirmed inside Rainbow; something she didn’t like. The last time Applejack had looked like that, she’d looked so scared, so ashamed. So… alone.

Rainbow suddenly sped up a little, flapping her wings to get herself in front of Applejack and forcing her to a stop. “Okay, spill it,” she said firmly. “What’s up, Applejack?”

Applejack looked at her for a moment… and then glanced away, much to Rainbow’s surprise. “It’s… okay, it’s gonna sound pretty darn weird, understand?” Applejack muttered.

Rainbow just waited, perplexed. “Are we talking changeling weird? Cuz you know that stuff doesn’t really bother me, right?”

“Ah know, sugarcube, Ah know,” Applejack sighed heavily. That was the only reason she was considering confiding in her friend in the first place. “But… how do Ah say this…”

Rainbow waited patiently this time, cocking her head to one side while Applejack struggled to put together a good explanation.

“Ah think,” Applejack started very slowly, “And Ah know this is gonna sound mighty strange ta ya, but… Ah think Ah’m gonna… Ah mean, when Ah was a little filly, once or twice, Ah used ta…”

“Applejack!”

Both mares jumped nearly a foot in the air in surprise. Rainbow stayed there, her wings instinctively taking her weight as she hastily looked around, startled.

And there, buzzing over the treetops towards them, was something Rainbow was still trying to get used to seeing just flying around everywhere nowadays.

The changeling’s black silhouette contrasted quite spectacularly against the otherwise unblemished sapphire of the sky overhead, And for a time that was all both mares could see if the speaker. Only when it reached the top of the tree right beside them did her features become more apparent; the featureless blue eyes, the ivory-white fangs, the barely visible blur of her translucent, ragged wings buzzing through the air.

The first thing Applejack noticed, however, was the look of anxiety on the changeling’s face. “I-I’m really sorry for bothering you here Your—I mean, ma’am, er – Applejack, but we’ve got a problem!”

Applejack recognized the changeling’s behavior. It was a familiar panic so common amongst the queenless refugees from the southern wilds – the homeland of the changelings. Whenever something went wrong – and wrong enough to get Applejack involved – the immigrant drones always behaved as if their failure would be the end of them.

And it probably woulda been, if they were still followin’ that fiend Chrysalis and her court… Applejack thought soberly.

Of course, this was no new phenomenon to Applejack, even if it was one she didn’t like. By now, though, she’d experienced it enough to know how to deal with it somewhat.

“Whoa, there,” Applejack said, gesturing with one hoof in what she hoped was a placating manner. “Just calm down and take it slow. Take a couple breaths and start over.”

The drone nodded. She alighted on the ground a few feet away, still looking beyond nervous. “S-sorry, I…,” she took a few deep breaths, letting the last one out slowly. “I apologize for interrupting you during your own duties, but Miss Roseluck sent me asking for your help.”

“Alright,” Applejack said as gently as she could. She found that speaking to panicked drones as if they were scared foals always seemed to do the trick. “Did she say what the trouble was?”

The drone shook her head, wincing back a step as if expecting a harsh reprimand for neglecting to find out the particulars of her message. “She only said it was about the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration.”

Applejack had to restrain a sigh. 

The Summer Sun Celebration… now there was something she didn’t want on her plate at the moment, either. It’d been only a few weeks ago that she’d learned that it would be taking place in Ponyville again, and Applejack had a pretty darn good idea of why Princess Celestia had decided that.

And considering how well it’d gone the last time it’d been held in Applejack’s hometown…

Of course, now Applejack was struck with a dilemma. The Summer Sun Celebration was important – vastly important. It would be the first major holiday since the changeling presence in Ponyville was revealed. Winter Wrap Up had been important – Hearts and Hooves Day, too. But none of those had been a true celebration like the day-long festivities line but for the day meant to honor Princess Celestia herself. And it would be the first time the changelings themselves had a major voice in the preparations.

But on the other hoof, Applebuck season was not waiting for anypony. The livelihood of her entire family depended upon every single crop, and not getting the most out of even one could mean tighter times for all of them. It wouldn’t spell the end of Sweet Apple Acres, but not working her hardest to milk the harvest of every last bit she could seemed like a horrible injustice Applejack simply couldn’t overlook, nor forgive. 

So, what to do…

“I’ll go,” said Rainbow suddenly.

Surprised, Applejack looked up, eyebrows shooting up, but Rainbow wasn’t looking at her. She was instead turned to face the equally surprised drone, looking just as relaxed as ever. “She probably just needs some helping hooves anyway. How much work could it be?”

Still, her words took Applejack completely by surprise, but in a good way. Rainbow? Willing to do work? And just when she’d started to lose faith in her friend’s work ethic. Again.

Still, Applejack didn’t like pushing her own responsibilities off onto somepony else, but at the moment she didn’t have much choice, did she? It was either this, or probably have a repeat of that Applebuck season again.

“Ya sure, sugarcube?” Applejack asked uncomfortably. “Ah’m sure Ah could make it later today…”

Rainbow only shrugged indifferently. “Nah, I got this. Not like they could’ve gotten into much trouble with Rose and the others there.”

Applejack could only look at Rainbow and feel rather impressed with the pegasus. Of all the ponies in Ponyville, Applejack knew she could count on Rainbow, too. It wasn’t just because she was the most loyal pegasus around, or one of the more dependable ones, either. Out of the many ponies Applejack knew, Rainbow was routinely the most unbothered by working with changelings, or even being around large groups of them.

Applejack didn’t really understand why, but at the moment she didn’t feel much like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Well then,” she said, “Ah guess Ah’ll be countin’ on ya ‘till Ah get done here.”

Rainbow cocked a slight grin and threw a salute. “Sure thing, cowgirl. But you should know I have one little condition.”

Applejack raised a brow. “And that is?”

Rainbow just grinned meaningfully at her. “Oh you know.”

She beat her wings just a little bit harder, hard enough to make every flap very audible in the quite orchard while fixing Applejack with a meaningful look.

Applejack rolled her eyes yet again, shooing Rainbow away with a dismissive hoof. “Oh get going, you. We’ll talk later.”

“I’ll just take that for a yes,” Rainbow snickered.

But just as The cyan pegasus was about to leave, she paused. Her smile faded, and a serious look replaced it. “And when I get back… we talk. Got it?”

Applejack actually winced at that. She should’ve known she wouldn’t be getting off the hook that easily.

“Alright… we’ll talk later, then."

Once more Rainbow’s smile grew, then she turned towards the very confused – and slightly curious – drone standing off to one side. “Come on, let’s get going. Don’t want to keep ‘em waiting!”

A split second later, she shot up into the sky with a woosh, and disappeared from sight through the canopy.

The drone turned to Applejack, bobbed her head in a series of respectful bows – maybe trying to apologize for Rainbow’s brash behavior for some reason – and took flight at a frantic pace in an effort to catch up, leaving Applejack alone amid the trees.

Applejack sighed to herself once she was alone. Only with Rainbow’s absence did she realize just how big she’d been smiling, made clear to her only by how the corners of her mouth sagged again.

It didn’t feel right, pushing her workload off onto somepony else. But until she found a way to be in two places at once that didn’t involve eldritch ponds in the middle of the Everfree, she’d just have to make do.

As she started to head off in search of her brother, Applejack paused when she caught sight of the sky overhead; peerlessly blue, not a breeze to disturb it, bright and warm as the summer sun.

You might actually have fun, you know…

Odds are…

Applejack huffed, her expression softening as she started off again in earnest. If yer there, it’d be real hard not ta have fun, sugarcube… Now where’d Big Mac get off to…


~~***~~


The flight into Ponyville was a markedly lazy one. It was a mild, warm day with only a slight breeze just strong enough to rustle trees and get wind chimes on the eves of houses tinkling softly.

Most ponies were not in a major rush to get anywhere or do anything. It was the kind of day that begged somepony to grab a blanket, find the shade of a tree, and curl up with a book or loved one.

As Rainbow glided by, she predictably spotted Twilight Sparkle nestled onto her favorite bench, book in hoof, enjoying what must’ve been a precious few moments to herself. What with the Celebration just around the corner, it was a wonder she could find time to decompress at all.

She only glanced up when Rainbow passed by overhead, and by that point the pegasus was hardly more than a rainbow trail pointing towards the nearby thatched roofs across the park from the lavender alicorn.

As Rainbow Dash continued on, she saw the many different preparations taking place all across town. 

Against the better judgments of some, Pinkie Pie had been given free rein to do as she pleased, and she’d leapt at the opportunity with gusto. Streamers hung from lamp post to lamp post, from eve to nearby eve, and occasionally from things that ought not be decorated, like trash cans and bulging, reeking garbage bags and the occasional aghast pony's tail that stood in place for slightly too long.

The rest of the planning committee – headed up by Rarity – didn’t so much keep up with the hyper ball of pink as they did travel in her wake, turning a decoration explosion into a very tasteful display indeed.

As Rainbow passed, she spotted Pinkie Pie lying flat on her belly, legs splayed every which way, panting fitfully, tongue lolling while somepony hurriedly fanned her with a folded up newspaper. How much work she must’ve done to get her to that point truly unsettled Rainbow.

Further down the block, Rainbow spotted a number of carts and stalls being rigorously scrubbed and cleaned. Wooden boards were stripped of old paint in preparation of fresh new coats. Squeaking hinges were oiled, wobbling wheels addressed, and displays checked and double checked again and again.

Everypony knew that this year promised to have a big turnout from well beyond Ponyville’s borders, and not one business intended to let the opportunity slip them by.

As Rainbow flew on, she noticed several pegasi whizzing through the air – messengers speeding off into the distance, undoubtedly bound for Cloudsdale. Rainbow could just picture her mom, sitting in her weather management office, barking out orders as fast as she could, trying to organize an entire district’s weather team in a way it’d never had to be organized before.

Everything had to be perfect, and it wasn’t just the ponies that were striving for that goal.

Rainbow banked slightly, adjusting her course to aim her out towards the edge of Ponyville… and towards what looked like a forest that’d grown to swallow part of it whole.


~~***~~


There was no official boundary between Ponyville and the strange new district that’d popped up in only a matter of months on what’d once been an undeveloped hillside. But then again, a boundary was completely unnecessary in the first place.

If anypony was to be asked what the biggest feature of the changelings’ refuge in Ponyville was, they would likely respond the same way; trees.

They were everywhere, sprouting up all over the place like a manicured wood, some growing so huge as to tower over the roofs of houses. The changeling district was less a district and more of a grove with houses built in it. Trees grew along sidewalks, on unused medians, between buildings, even straight out out a house or two.

Even the structures seemed like formations of nature; trees and bushes that just happened to grow into the shapes of houses, like some miracle of nature repeated over and over again. If it weren’t for the doors, windows and various other furnishings, they very well might’ve been some sort of natural phenomenon.

Each of the four corners of a house seemed to be made from living trees which had been planted, then grown into the shape of the house itself, including the outline of the angled roof and everything. Branches and vines were then used to fill in the walls, giving most every house an almost log cabin aesthetic. Some of the tree branches on a few houses even seemed to have been stylized, too, giving each and every home its own character.

Lamp posts stuck up out of the ground on sturdy roots, their swirling, twirling wooden stalks forming a cage of little branches on the end that met together at the top, where a small bulb sat dormant and pale amid a small cloud of butterflies, gnats and hummingbirds that eagerly fed upon its sweet nectar.

And there were flowerbeds everywhere. Hanging in woven baskets on window sills, filling small gardens, even decorating homes and lamp posts with creeping vines laden with all manner of flowering blooms; the changelings seemed as ingenious with incorporating flowers into their architecture as they were making it in the first place. The effect was to put colors everywhere, dotting everything, and filling the air with the sweet, soft scent of wildflowers.

Cobblestone paths ran this way and that like dried up river beds amid a carpet of grass that seemed to have a firm grip over nearly every square inch of the ground.

Shade was everywhere, the dappled traces of light swaying this way and that on the breeze. It wasn’t gloomy by any stretch of the imagination, either; there was enough sunlight streaming in through the hanging branches overhead to keep things plenty bright while the tree’s shadows shielded the inhabitants below from the worst of it.

And everywhere in the sheltered sanctuary, there were changelings tending to business.

When Rainbow came in for a landing – no longer capable of safely navigating the flourishing canopy wrapping most of the sky over the district – she immediately saw dozens of changelings all around her milling about, occupied with some task or another. Those that weren’t seemed to be sizing up the situation around them from various vantage points, as if looking for something to do or someone to help.

As she watched, one turned its horn down towards a tiny stalk and started to cast to a spell. Right before Rainbow’s eyes, that tiny sprig burst forth seemingly with a life of its own, winding up towards the sky like a blind snake.

Two more changelings added their own magic to the mix, and within only a few seconds, the sprig had grown to a fully developed sapling, and more.

At the same time, another team of changelings began the process on a slightly more developed tree, and as Rainbow watched in fascination, the two were arched towards each other, their tops finding one another before wrapping together securely in a tight twist.

And just like that, there was a new archway over a small winding path. 

Already the changelings were discussing excitedly what else they could do with it; adding flowers, widening a small canopy for extra overhead cover, since there was a gaping hole in the trees above it, even adding strings of what they called ‘light bulbs’ across the underside of the arch. One then suggested planting more stems so that they could make a lattice for things to grow on, and the whole group fell into speculative silence.

Such activities were taking place all around Rainbow – changelings tending to their surroundings, obsessively trying to make them as totally perfect as they possibly could by cultivating flowerbeds – some of which were filled with blooms Rainbow had never, ever seen before – manicuring bushes and tree limbs into eye-catching shapes, and trimming back unsightly overgrowths.

Hardly anyone was just lying around, enjoying the serenity of their surroundings. Only the very young frolicked and flitted through the boughs, childish laughter occasionally reaching Rainbow’s ears as one of the younglings scampered past her.

As she trotted by, Rainbow witnessed an adult changeling stalk up to a hollow in the side of what must’ve been some sort of playhouse, lunge, and peer inside the hollow with a playful noise, resulting in a chorus of squeals and giggles from within.

The whole scene was totally unlike anything Rainbow had ever dreamed a changeling living environment would be like. It never ceased to kind of take her breath away. Not much, though; it was rather difficult to truly impress such an awesome mare.

To Rainbow’s surprise, she even found some ponies trotting around here and there. Every now and then, she would spot what looked like construction workers inspecting houses, checking them over critically – and with no small degree of fascination. Then, they would exchange a look, then shrug in bewilderment, as if to say “I got nothing”.

It wasn’t unusual to see a changeling masquerading as a pony, either, but as per Applejack’s wishes, none wore guises of anypony else in town, and instead made their own. But some of the ponies around Rainbow were very recognizable.

“Hey, Cloudkicker!” Rainbow called out upon spotting the familiar shape of a golden-maned, lavender-blue coated pegasus flitting through the air only a few feet over her head.

Immediately Cloudkicker changed her mind, falling to the ground in front of Rainbow with a thud. “Oh hey, boss. Didn’t expect to see you around here,” she commented with a friendly smile. “Thought you’d still be over at Sweet Apple Acres as usual. What happened, get shot down again?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes in exasperation. “No. I heard Rose needed something, and since Applejack was busy, I came instead.”

“Oh,” Cloudkicker said, frowning. “Well that’s boring.”

Rainbow huffed at that. “So why are you here?”

“Easy there, boss,” Cloudkicker said, offering a lazy smile. “I’m just admiring the sights. Mrs. Bossmare wanted me to see if these guys were all set, what with all the greenery they got around here. Amazing how they hardly need any extra water at all. With all this foliage, you’d think they’d be drinking up half the reservoir.”

Rainbow couldn’t keep herself from glancing around at the wonder that’d literally sprouted up all around her. A few of the changelings waved her way, some clearly recognizing her, even if she couldn’t put names to their identical black faces. “Yeah,” Rainbow said with a grin, “it’s amazing Twilight doesn’t live out of here now. I’m amazed she can ever leave.”

Cloudkicker turned a smirk onto her weather captain – something Rainbow could very nearly feel. “Wow, I never pegged you for liking flowers. Then again, I never figured you for a changeling-chaser, either, but eh – proved me wrong.”

Rainbow rounded on the weatherpony, bristling. “I do not like flowers! And I’m not a… a…” she paused, her anger giving way to confusion. “What’s a changeling-chaser?”

“Nothing,” Cloudkicker said, waving a hoof. “Just something I heard – no big deal – I wouldn’t worry yourself over it.”

“Uh-huh,” Rainbow grunted skeptically, but she let it drop. “Did my mom tell you to do anything else? You know… besides bug me?”

“You mean, besides ‘kick that filly Rainbow’s flank for me and get her in gear’?” Cloudkicker said with more than a little amusement. “Nope, not much. Think Mrs. Bossmare thought you’d be out with your friends by now. Or at least, one of them.”

“Okay, you’re starting to irritate me and I don’t know why,” Rainbow growled, turning away. “Just… go tell mom I’ll be helping Roseluck for a while or something.”

“Somepony say my name?”

Both pegasi turned around, caught off guard, to find a changeling sidling up towards them, looking curious. She was virtually identical to all of her peers, yet for some reason this changeling had what looked like some kind of rose in full glorious bloom cradled behind one ear. As if that wasn’t enough of a tipoff to who she was, Rainbow immediately recognized Roseluck’s voice just as the changeling spotted her.

In many respects, Roseluck wasn’t merely some changeling here. If it hadn’t been for her, things may not have gone as smoothly for the changelings in Ponyville as they did. She was the one that usually stepped up to deal with problems too small to be brought to Applejack’s or Twilight’s or the mayor’s attention. When it came to problems of a changeling nature in Ponyville, it was usually safe to say that Roseluck, or her team of veteran Ponyvillian changelings, weren’t very far behind.

In a way, they ran things on a level Applejack was either too uncomfortable or too inexperienced to handle, and so far it’d worked out very well for the changelings in Ponyville – both the long-time residents and the newer immigrants. 

It couldn’t have been easy work, and between running her shop with her two sisters and mediating the day-to-day troubles of integrating changelings, it must’ve been backbreaking at times. And yet, Roseluck never once complained, and even seemed to prefer taking on the burden over burdening Applejack instead. After all, of all the changelings in Equestria, few understood – nor were relied on by – Applejack quite as much as Roseluck, and everypony knew it.

“Oh, Rainbow! I wasn’t expecting to see you around here today,” Roseluck said, but she was smiling in welcome. “Did something happen with Applejack? I know things on the farm are a little hectic right now, but I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone until later today.”

The senior changeling turned a narrowed eye towards some spot behind Rainbow, and only then did she remember that she’d had a companion all the way in.

“I hope Lilac didn’t give the wrong impression,” she said, using a tone as if she knew all-too well.

Rainbow glanced between Roseluck and the little changeling now cowering behind her, before saying hastily, “Oh no, totally nailed it I think. I sure didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Roseluck gave the cyan pegasus a look, but relented with a small smile. She wasn’t one to be overly hard on others, anyway. “Alright, if you say so, Rainbow,” she said. “I was hoping to speak with Applejack, but you’ll do just fine instead.”

“Well, if it’s anything major, I’ll pass it along once AJ’s done with her chores,” Rainbow responded. “But it doesn’t sound like anything too serious anyway.”

Roseluck chuckled under her breath. “Probably not. At any rate, walk with me; there are a few things I’d like your opinion on.”

Opinions… Already it sounded like it was going to be very… very dull work. But, Rainbow had promised Applejack she’d do it, and with such a tantalizing reward dangling before her, she would just have to put up with it.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to get out of here,” Cloudkicker spoke up. “There are a few more errands I gotta run before my shift’s over, so… guess I’ll catch you ‘round, Rainbow. Try not to have too much fun!”

A moment later, she was gliding down the street, heading for the edge of the canopy and the open sky beyond, much to Rainbow’s relief.


~~***~~


Rainbow and Roseluck walked down the main lane of the changeling district together in relative silence. Rainbow kept finding her attention drawn to one thing or another, and Roseluck seemed only too happy to let her gawk.

“Hey, what’re those?” Rainbow asked, pointing at a string of strange bulbs hanging from a vine stretched across an open window. They were all manner of sizes and colors, ranging from golden yellow, tomato red and verdant green, with matching leaves cupping the base of each. The biggest was about the size of an apple, while the ones on the smaller side were around the size of a date. 

They were all shaped almost like a bell, and each had a small hole in the bottom that gave off a light, mellow scent. Rainbow only noticed them because when she passed, they gave off a soft, musical tinkling sound when the breeze rattled them together, each producing a different note based on its size.

“Bell peppers,” Roseluck explained with a smile. “Great for calming babies, and they taste pretty good, too. Some of the drones brought up some seeds from the southern lands, and we only recently got them approved for planting here in Ponyville. We might even be serving some tomorrow.”

“Wow,” Rainbow muttered, eying one of the musical floras a little closer, “you guys sure love to plant stuff, huh?”

Roseluck merely chuckled, though it had an oddly sad note to it. “This is pretty much all that remains of our culture, you know,” she said.

Rainbow looked up at her then, but the changeling only smiled a little. “After Queen Phantasma… Well, not much survived that,” she said quietly. “Not many of us know how to do this anymore,” she added, motioning with a hoof toward her surroundings; at the grand houses and fixtures, all literally grown for their purposes.

Rainbow frowned a little before looking around again. “Well, looks like that Phantasma creep didn’t do a very good job. I mean, look at you guys now!”

Roseluck actually chuckled at that, and this time it didn’t sound quite so melancholy. “No, I suppose not. And thank you for saying so, Rainbow. I’m glad Applejack has somepony like you at her side.”

Rainbow merely fidgeted a little, wings ruffling slightly as she looked away. 

Then again, I never figured you for a changeling-chaser, either, but eh – proved me wrong…

Just what did she mean by that? Ugh, now it’s going to drive me crazy…

While she continued to grumble internally, the two rounded a corner and emerged upon a sight that immediately refocused Rainbow’s attention.

Roseluck had just lead her into the center of the district; a wide open square with a break in the trees overhead that let in plenty of sunlight onto the clearing below.

And in the center of the square was a huge, tan tent that stood straight and boxy almost two stories high. Across from that was a set of glimmering stands lined with seats. At the center of the grand array jutted up the places of honor – seats held within a small, gilded balcony with a peerless view of the square. Obviously that balcony was meant for the royalty, with everypony else gathered around the foot of it in tiers.

Rainbow immediately knew that this was where some sort of event planned for the Celebration would take place. Something big was in the works, she could tell, but she wasn’t sure what…

Now her curiosity was piqued, and she couldn’t help but find herself wondering what Roseluck had in store for the audience.

“So, what’s under the tent?” Rainbow asked, staring intently at the object of her curiosity. She had half a mind to just dart over and stick her muzzle underneath to get a look at it, but she held back.

Roseluck, however, only laughed a little. “You’ll see tomorrow,” she said cryptically.

“What’s the harm in me just catching a small peek now?” Rainbow asked hopefully, but Rose just shook her head.

“No. It’s a surprise, Rainbow,” she said with a patient smile. But after a moment, that smile started to slip again, and though it could sometimes be hard to read her featureless blue eyes, Rainbow could tell that Roseluck’s gaze become somewhat distant.

“Tomorrow is a very important day for us, you know,” she said.

“Yeah, I heard,” Rainbow said, but Roseluck shook her head.

“No, I don’t mean like that,” the changeling said back softly.

Rainbow paused to look at her, and when she did so, Roseluck stopped to turn to meet that look with an odd one.

“Tomorrow marks the seventeenth anniversary of the day Queen Phantasma was vanquished,” she said. “Seventeen years ago tomorrow is the day Applejack’s mother died.”

Rainbow felt a cold chill run down her spine, her breath catching.

She’d heard about the story from Applejack. All of their friends had. They’d heard about how Applejack’s birth mother – Queen Carnation – sacrificed herself to end the reign of a monstrous tyrant; her own cousin, Queen Phantasma. That was the reason why Applejack had been left with the Apples, rather than growing up surrounded by other changelings.

“That is one of the reasons I wanted to talk to her today,” Roseluck went on. “I have a few ideas, along with the rest of the committee. But… maybe it’s best if we run them by you first.”

Rainbow paused and gave Roseluck an uncertain look. “I don’t know. This sounds like something AJ would want to hear, not me.”

Rainbow knew that if she could help it, Applejack would avoid talking about her mysterious birth mother, even around her. It just… wasn’t a topic she enjoyed exploring.

Now it felt like Rainbow would be putting her nose where it really didn’t belong, and as much as she loved irritating Applejack, angering her was not on the same list.

But, to her surprise, Roseluck was adamant. “No, I’d like it to be a surprise for Applejack,” she said.

“Why?” Rainbow asked, confused.

Roseluck smiled. “Two reasons, really. Because the ponies of Equestria should know about Queen Carnation. And secondly, because of tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Rainbow inquired, even more baffled. “What about it?”

“Think about it for a moment, Dash,” Roseluck said with a humorous smile now. “What’s so important about tomorrow to Applejack?”

Without even thinking, Rainbow responded, “It’s her birth—” 

And then she stopped, eyes growing wider. “Her… birthday.”

Roseluck nodded. “The day she started living in Sweet Apple Acres,” she said.

Applejack never made a big deal about her birthday. Usually there was some cake, a few well-wishes, and not much more. She just was never comfortable being the guest of honor, and Pinkie was usually kind enough to respect her wishes. She'd tried to throw her bigger bashes every now and then, but all she succeeded in doing was making Applejack uncomfortable and embarrassed, so she began dialing it back a few years ago.

But hearing what Roseluck said sparked off a new question in Rainbow’s head; one she’d never, ever even thought to consider.

Hey… When is Applejack’s real birthday, anyway?

She’d never stopped to think about that. But surely they were different, weren’t they?

Before she could ask Roseluck herself – probably one of the only ones left alive who would know – she found herself cut off by the changeling’s voice.

“There’s still plenty of work left to do, though,” Roseluck went on. “Making a place like this fit for Canterlot’s finest isn’t easy, you know.”

Rainbow blinked, trying to catch back up with this new train of thought. “Uh… I don’t see the problem. What’s so bad about a little grass?”

Roseluck laughed. “If only it were that simple, but we both know how picky they can be about their venue. All of their poor wittle hoovsies…”

Rainbow snorted before she could catch herself, and then she didn’t bother holding back a further chuckle or two. 

Roseluck laughed along with her, looking a little sheepish but unrepentant for what she’d just said. “Now, about that list... Where is… ah!”

When Rainbow turned around, she noticed Roseluck looking at something and smiling brightly. When Rainbow followed the changeling’s gaze, she noticed a pegasus trotting up to them wearing an answering smile of her own.

She was young – not quite a filly, but not quite a mare, either. She was somewhere in between; young, but not entirely childish. Her unusually neat, sleek blue mane fell just short of her gleaming lavender eyes and was placed tidily against one cloudy gray shoulder.

A pegasus with a well-maintained mane and tail was quite the oddity, especially one that long, so right away Rainbow had a very good idea about what she really was.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” the disguised changeling said, offering Roseluck a paper. “The list of VIPs coming to the event,” she explained, “just like you wanted.”

“Perfect,” Roseluck said back, taking the paper in her telekinetic grip and levitating it towards her, her expression becoming critical – and after a few moments – bothered. “Oh… dear, that’s a lot from Canterlot,” she muttered to herself. “Caesar, Prince Blueblood, Bullion, Fancy Pants, Fleur De Lis, Photo Finish… My word…” 

She then paused when she noticed both Rainbow and the pegasus eying each other curiously, and motioned with a hoof without raising her eyes away from the bothersome thing hovering in front of her face.

“Rainbow, I’d like you to meet Agave. She’s been helping out with the preparations. Agave, this is Rainbow Dash, one of Applejack’s closest friends.”

The moment she heard that, Agave’s eyes shot open wide, a small gasp on her lips. “Oh! So you’re Rainbow Dash! I've heard all about you!”

Rainbow cocked a grin. Now this was something she was qualified to handle. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” Agave enthused. “I heard that you could do all sorts of tricks, and that you were one of the fastest flyers in Equestria!”

“Sorry, I’m afraid you’re not quite right,” Rainbow said, her expression falling for a moment. 

“What? I heard wrong?” Agave asked, totally confused and even a little panicked. Had she gotten the wrong pony? But how many pegasi walked around with rainbow-colored manes? More than she knew?

But then Rainbow’s smile came back in force, her chest puffing up. “I’m the fastest!” she stated proudly, zipping off her hooves and shooting around the square a bit to demonstrate the validity of her point.

“Good grief,” Roseluck grumbled to herself, though she was smiling good-naturedly.

After a few moments of showboating, Rainbow skidded back to a standstill exactly where she’d been before, a big smug smile on her face.

Agave clapped her hooves together enthusiastically, but when Roseluck cleared her throat, she refocused. “Oh, um… sorry. Do you need anything else, Roseluck?”

The senior drone sighed, but she seemed hardly bothered. “We were just about to go over the plans for the Summer Sun Celebration,” Roseluck said patiently. “Would you mind getting our notes for me? They should still be at City Hall.”

Agave smiled still bigger – positively beaming now – and saluted. “Aye, aye, ma’am,” she giggled, then ran off down the main street towards the rest of Ponyville.

As soon as she was gone, Roseluck sighed, her eyes still on Agave’s shrinking shape.

“Something wrong?” Rainbow asked, eying her curiously.

“No, not really,” the changeling responded, though her smile seemed oddly weary. “I was just thinking… If it wasn’t for Applejack, changelings like her would never have stood a chance in the Hive. If she was still there… Agave would most certainly be dead by now.”

Rainbow felt another chill run down her spine before she looked back towards the sunny, bouncing figure of the young changeling bounding away from them – a changeling who must’ve evaded certain death by a knife’s edge. 

But why? Because she was so bright and sweet? Because she wasn’t some cold-blooded machine bent only on serving the queens and nothing else? The thought twisted Rainbow’s gut into knots.

“Well, we should get going,” Roseluck said, motioning towards a hut set to one side of the square. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Still, as they started off, Rainbow paused again to look back in the direction Agave had disappeared down, a frown on her face. Was it really that bad where all these changelings came from…?

Rainbow was literally jolted out of her thoughts when something bumped into her, nearly knocking her over.

“Hey, watch it,” She snapped, looking around irritably.

She noticed the culprit only a few inches away; a drone, only… a very strange one.

The eye he turned towards Rainbow was, for lack of a better word, not there. There was only an eye-patch slung across his forehead; something that very nearly disappeared against his charcoal chitin. The only thing that gave it away was a pair of words that were stitched into the leather with a silvery thread directly over his eye that spelled out “No Evil”.

“Oh, my apologies,” he said in a slightly raspy, oddly friendly voice. “I didn’t see you there, sonrisa.”

When Rainbow flashed a look at him, the changeling gave her a leisurely, toothy smile before proceeding on his way. “I hope we don’t make a habit out of this,” was the last thing he said before rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.  

Rainbow stared after him, completely confused – particularly why her skin was crawling so much.

“Who the hay was that?”
	
> Chapter 3: The Calm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3: The Calm


The day was wearing down by the time Applejack trudged her tired hooves into Ponyville, laden with saddlebags stuffed to bursting. The golden glow of the sky heralded the coming sunset, but there were still a few hours left in the day before the sun was put to bed properly.

She passed the many cleaned stalls and carts – now only waiting for the coming day to be put to use – and took the time to appreciate the streamers, banners and various other decorations that’d come to cover her favorite little town like a layer of cake frosting.

Most of the preparations were done, by the looks of things, and now most of the ponies that were out and about were eagerly spending the last few hours in the day relaxing and enjoying the respite in the fine weather. Only a few sticklers for detail still labored away, striving to make everything absolutely, positively perfect.

Applejack even spotted a few groups of ponies, huddled around café tables, toasting each other for their hard work and eagerly wishing each other luck on the coming day. And some of those groups, Applejack noticed, even had the conspicuous charcoal profile of a changeling or two raising a glass in kind and sharing in the good tidings. Those groups in particular brought a smile to Applejack’s lips and a warm pulse in her heart.

Are ya seein’ this, Hyacinth? Mama? It’s just like ya thought it’d be...

Everypony Applejack passed looked tired, but most wore accomplished looks on their faces. Others seemed lost in daydreams and worries over the impending international holiday that, for one day, would turn Ponyville into the center of Equestria.

Applejack tried not to think about that as well when she rounded a corner and spotted the first trees of the changeling district. Thinking about what she could expect the next day only made her jittery, and it was precisely those jitters that made her secretly thankful she’d declined the offer to head up the preparations committee on the changeling side. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the last Apple family reunion, or that Applebuck season.

So then, why did that keep bothering her? Why did she feel so much less accomplished than the ponies she passed in the street seemed to be? She was a hard worker; she pulled her weight… right?

Applejack sighed to herself, the shade of the changeling district’s floral ceiling enveloping her. No, it ain’t right to think like that. Ah’m doin’ the best Ah can with what Ah got, just like Ah always do. It’ll have ta be enough.

As the first traces of wildflowers and vibrant foliage tickled her nose, and the first pair of changelings came bounding up to meet her, Applejack couldn’t help but smile a little at the gleam in their eyes and the smiles on their faces.

It’s goin’ ta be enough.


~~***~~


Applejack had learned very early on that queens didn’t tend to mingle with their subjects. If something needed done, they sent someone to get it done. According to some of the long-time residents of Ponyville, not even Queen Carnation made a habit of visiting with her subjects the way Applejack did. So, considering Applejack made it a point to visit the district as much as possible, she was already very unusual – but very pleasantly so – in the eyes of the drones.

By the time Applejack reached the main square, she’d managed to accumulate quite a following of drones, all flocking to her to see what she was doing, to ask how her day had been, or just to exchange a simple hello. It seemed like such a unique experience for them, being able to mingle with a changeling queen, that they just couldn’t help themselves.

Not many seemed particularly nervous about her appearance in their midst, having already had plenty of time to acclimate over the course of her many visits, though plenty looked just as shocked by her abrupt appearance as always.

But at least the drones weren’t bowing to her anymore, unlike the first few weeks of their being in Ponyville. Even now, some of the changelings that came to walk with her did seem to be a little too well-mannered to be completely natural, but the fact that they were trying was more than enough for Applejack; she couldn’t possibly ask for more.

Coming to the changeling district had always been this way for Applejack, and she had decidedly mixed feelings about receiving so much attention. On the one hoof, it always warmed her heart to see so many happy faces eager to see her. On the other, she always felt more than a little awkward being the center of attention. It always made her feel like there was something expected of her, yet she had no idea what.

With a bunch of younglings bouncing all around her, trying to get her attention while their parents watched apprehensively in the background, Applejack’s approach to the district’s heart was hardly the stealthiest, compounded by the continued calling of her name as more and more changelings spotted her. A few kept their distance, either caught at a bad time amid some project or another, or they were still simply too nervous to approach her.

Applejack came across one such changeling right at the end of the street before the main square. It was only bad luck that caught her out in the middle of the road, halfway from one building to another, or else she likely would’ve shrunk out of sight.

Bumblebee always had been a very skittish changeling, after all.

“Good afternoon, Applejack,” Bumblebee greeted in her usual, slightly awkward voice, offering a small smile. “Uh… Been keeping busy?”

Bumblebee was one of the few changelings who preferred living like a pony, if her golden-coat and black and white striped mane and tail said anything. She also happened to be the only changeling on the block wearing a brand new crimson scarf, which she kept batting the end of in a worrying sort of way.

Her form was all her own, at least, so Applejack had no trouble identifying the socially awkward drone at a glance.

Bumblebee was just as petite as always, but it seemed like the past few months had worked to change that a little. She stood a little taller at the shoulder, though it certainly helped that she didn’t seem to be trying to collapse in on herself like she did whenever caught in her natural form.

“Well afternoon ta you, too, Bumblebee,” Applejack said back friendlily. “Sure seems like y’all have been busy ‘round here as well. Ah swear this place gets bigger every time Ah visit.”

“Well, I didn’t really have anything to do with that,” Bumblebee mumbled, averting her gaze. “I just mind the younglings…”

“Bumblebee,” someone in the crowd around Applejack called, “didn’t you build your own house by yourself? In, like, an afternoon?”

Now not only was Bumblebee looking the other way, she was also bright red, too. “A-anypony can do it, really, if you know how to do it right…”

Applejack chuckled good-naturedly. She was already well aware that the scarf-wearing pony was more responsible for passing on changeling practices than anyone else in the district. 

“So, um,” Bumblebee started, finally looking back towards the apple farmer, “Are you looking for Roseluck and the others, by chance?”

“Sure am,” Applejack responded with a smile. “Any idea where Ah might find ‘em?”

Bumblebee nodded, but just as she turned to lead the way, a cry rang out over everyone’s heads.

“Freedom!”

Applejack turned her head just quick enough to spot an oncoming rainbow flash lead by a pair of magenta eyes.

How Rainbow Dash managed to halt mid-flight so fast would never be known to Applejack, but it certainly spared her a nasty face-first collision. Either she hadn’t been going near as fast as she’d appeared, or she’d had a magical helping hoof or two.

Whatever the cause, Rainbow came to a stop in mid-air so suddenly that her rear end very nearly flipped right over her front, putting her in quite an absurd, scrunched-up position for the half second it took her to fall the two feet back to earth and land on her stomach with a heavy thud.

“Landsakes! You alright, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, heart pumping with the sudden spike in adrenaline.

Rainbow could only turn her eyes up towards the apple farmer, and for some reason, she gave her a very sour look indeed. “Don’t do that, AJ!”

Applejack looked down at her, completely taken aback, first with their near high speed head butt, and now by Rainbow’s foul attitude.

“Uh… sorry, Ah guess,” Applejack said, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for. “So how’d it go?”

That seemed to be the wrong question to ask, because for a moment it looked like Rainbow was going to spit fire. “We sat around and talked for hours,” she half seethed, half whined. “How do you think it went?”

It’d only taken Rainbow Dash twenty minutes to realize that she’d made a terrible mistake. She’d been lulled into a false sense of security by Roseluck and her small preparations committee. There’d been lemonade and sweets from Sugarcube Corner; what more could Rainbow hope for?

But the moment the laughter was set aside and faces composed themselves into businesslike professionalism, she’d felt a warning bell go off inside of her.

After just under half an hour of listening to that group rattle on about itinerary this, logistics that, Rainbow was forced to conclude that she may have misjudged what she was willing to put up with. Very, very misjudged indeed.

Rainbow had initially been thrilled to see Twilight present – not that she’d miss something like scheduling and planning for the world anyway – and even the sight of Rarity gave her some hope for something mildly exciting happening. Even one mild fit would’ve livened up the drudgery.

She’d hoped poorly. Very, very… very poorly.

Rainbow managed to condense all of that into just three words. “You. Owe. Me.” she growled, glaring straight at Applejack.

Applejack gave her an apologetic smile and a nervous chuckle, but just as she opened her mouth to say something, another voice rang out, distracting her.

“Applejack! You made it!” called Twilight’s voice.

But it wasn’t just Twilight that was cantering towards them. Applejack spotted Rarity as well – looking rather weary after her long day of chasing after Pinkie Pie and rectifying whatever chaos she wrought on the town – along with Roseluck, who’d donned her more familiar tan coated, rose-maned earth pony façade, though the rose was still tucked behind one ear.

A number of changelings and – to Applejack’s pleasant surprise – ponies from City Hall moved along behind her, undoubtedly attracted by the ruckus in the square. Applejack even spotted little Agave, who was beaming as usual from Roseluck’s other side, and seemed to be trying to stifle giggles.

In a thrice, Rainbow picked herself up off the ground, just as the group came to gather around the two of them. She tried to play it off, but no one was really paying her much attention anyway.

“Sorry fer takin’ so long,” Applejack apologized sheepishly. “Me and Macintosh kinda had a fruit bat problem ta deal with. Those dang critters made themselves right at home in the east orchards. Probably gonna have ta get Fluttershy ta work her magic on ‘em.”

“Well you’re just in time,” Rainbow said bitterly, “we just got done.”

That of course earned her a sharp elbow in the side from Twilight and a wince from Applejack. “Dagnabit… Ah’m real sorry, y’all. Especially ta you, RD; Ah didn’t mean ta make ya do all my work for me.”

Rainbow huffed, but her scowl lightened somewhat. “Ugh, how am I supposed to stay mad at you when you apologize so quick…,” she grumbled to herself, then raised her voice. “Fine, fine, you’re forgiven. But don’t you ever put me through something like that again, got it? Ten more minutes and somepony was going to get it, I swear.”


Applejack raise an eyebrow at the irritated pegasus. “Rainbow, ya know ya volunteered yerself, right?”

“Yeah, and you let me go,” Rainbow pointed out in a huff. “therefore, it’s your fault.”

“Well, we appreciate you toughing it out for us, Rainbow Dash,” Roseluck said kindly, though there was a slight bite to her words. Applejack may not be the most willing leader, but she was at least attentive when she had to be, and Rainbow had spent half the planning session face down on the table.

Applejack gave Rainbow a sympathetic smile. This was precisely the kind of outcome she hated the most; forcing other ponies to do something they’d rather not do for her instead.

“How about Ah make it up to ya, sugarcube,” Applejack said kindly.

Rainbow gave her a look of reserved curiosity. “I’m listening.”

Applejack smiled, then reached back and flipped open one of her saddlebags. “Here. Thought Ah’d bring y’all somethin’ fer all the hard work ya did today.”

With that, Applejack took hold of something in her mouth, then tossed it at Rainbow, giving her no time to do anything besides catch it.

And there, sitting in her hooves, was a large bottle with only a simple, hoof-written label that said “Cider”.

“We got a couple o’ cases of preserved cider in our apple cellar,” Applejack explained casually, all the while keeping her eyes trained on Rainbow’s reaction. “We always make a batch ‘r two every cider season, you know – fer special occasions. Now we got more than we rightly know what ta do with, what with all that cider we made last season.”

Applejack reached her hoof back to her bags and pulled out another bottle, and before Rainbow quite knew what she was doing, the apple farmer lightly clinked both bottles’ necks together with a smile. “So, here’s ta all yer hard work, sugarcube. It means a lot ta me.”

Rainbow Dash stared back at Applejack as if gazing upon an angel, her eyes getting progressively bigger and bigger and bigger as she processed what was being said to her, and what she’d just been given. Applejack was starting to have trouble fighting back her laughter when Rainbow opened her mouth and said, in a stunned squeak, “Applejack, I think I love you.”

The apple farmer just rolled her eyes and laughed. “Uh-huh, Ah bet,” she chuckled.

While Rainbow continued to gaze down at her very own cider bottle, eyes almost dewy, Applejack turned her attention to the ones standing quietly behind her, her expression losing some of its humor.

She found a lot more eyes on her than she’d been expecting, and that of course made her shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny.

Perhaps the oddest look she got came from – of all ponies – Rarity, who was looking at Applejack like she’d just spontaneously done a backflip for no reason.

“Ah am real sorry fer missin’ everythin’,” Applejack said to the others honestly, doing her best to ignore the fashionista’s stare. “Y’all must be worn out. C’mon, Ah got plenty fer everypony.”


~~***~~


Roseluck and her team had all but taken over a small park – more of a sitting area, really – with a few picnic tables here and there, and a very large pergola made from five magically shaped aspens. It was only a stone’s throw from the main square and that conspicuous tent in the middle. It was private without being too private, thanks to a few hedges on one side, and open enough without being too open.

Everyone gathered around the tables laden with parchment and notebooks of all sizes. With a quick wave of Twilight’s horn, however, everything quickly organized itself into a number of awaiting cardboard boxes set on the ends of the tables, clearing a space after a brief maelstrom of flying paper. Work time was over; it was time to let loose a little, and while everyone knew it was a little early to do any real celebrating, no one hesitated in grabbing cups for a toast or two.

Twilight was happily conversing with Roseluck about little, unimportant things within moments; probably something changeling-related, given the avid gleam in the alicorn’s eyes and Roseluck’s look of good-natured amusement. That conversation was probably hopelessly derailed, and showed no signs of running out of talking points any time soon if Twilight had anything to say about it. At least she didn’t have anything to take notes with, or else their conversation could’ve literally gone on all night.

Rarity, on the other hoof, seemed to have completely forgotten what she was there for in favor of scrutinizing the new scarf of a skittish changeling sitting next to her, who didn’t seem to know what to do with herself under such a critical gaze.

“Bumblebee, was it? Do tell me where you got such a lovely thing!” Rarity was insisting, doing her best not to sound overly critical of the fact that it wasn’t one of her own designs. “It brings out your eyes so well!”

“Uh, thank you, Miss Rarity,” Bumblebee said uncertainly, fidgeting nervously with one end of the scarf and looking for any sort of way out.

Applejack cracked a smile, chuckling a little. Rarity didn’t make a habit of conversing with changelings, and definitely not to such a casual degree as she was now. Perhaps it was the countless, blemishing holes that covered a changeling, or their naturally feral looks, but it’d obviously been something of a challenge for the fashionista to find anything beautiful in the changelings, at least physically. Yet, give her something else to focus on, and she could do just fine.

Another example was Rainbow Dash, who hardly seemed bothered by being confined to the shade of the pergola yet again, since now she had something to distract her. Granted, at the rate she was downing cider, that wouldn’t be lasting much longer, either.

She sat next to Applejack, who seemed content with watching the scene unfold around her and resting her weary hooves. It really had been a long day…

Applejack jumped when she felt something touch her shoulder, prompting her to look around at… little Agave, who’d come to stand right next to her without her noticing.

For half a second, the smile on Agave’s face flickered with doubt, but then it returned many times over. “Would you maybe like something to drink, Y—I mean, Miss Applejack?” she asked cheerfully, barely missing a beat.

The blue-maned pegasus-changeling was holding a glass in both front hooves, using her wings to balance herself. She held the glass a little awkwardly, in that way Applejack had seen a few unicorns do, which only further proved that the young pegasus wasn’t very authentic.

Applejack could just see that the supposed beverage was a thick, dark orange color, slightly too dark to be amber but definitely brighter than brown. But it was the scent tickling her nose that really piqued her interest. It smelled tangy and sweet, like a peach and something else Applejack had no name for.

Applejack almost pointed out the cup of cider in front of her, but she caught herself. The little pegasus just seemed too sunny.

“I made it myself. Squeezed out the juice and everything,” Agave added brightly.

“Well shoot,” Applejack chuckled, “Guess Ah’ll have ta at least give it a try if ya put that much work into it.”

She reached out a hoof, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Agave handed over the glass.

Applejack looked down into the cup, the full force of that aroma hitting her nose. It really did smell intriguing… and just a touch familiar. It was strange; like something she should know, but didn’t.

“Mind if Ah ask what this is?” she asked, looking back up at Agave.

Agave only smiled. “Try it! I want to know if I’m getting better at making it.”

Now it sounded like Applejack was to be a taste-tester, now filling her with some doubt. But the hopeful look in the changeling’s eyes ultimately proved too much for her. That, and there was a strange feeling of nostalgia wriggling at the back of Applejack’s mind that wanted answers of its own.

“Well, alrighty then,” Applejack said back, a little less enthusiastic now, but willing all the same. “Don’t mind if Ah do.”

Applejack once again looked down into the strangely aromatic beverage under her nose and paused. It really did smell oddly sweet and tangy, like… oranges? No, that ain’t it… what could it be?

So, she took a deep breath, braced, and upturned the whole thing down her throat, going for broke. Immediately the taste of it hit her, and Applejack’s eyes shot open wide. 

It was only once she’d finished that she noticed how quiet the room had become. The hush that fell over everyone watching the spectacle was almost palpable.

“What is this?” Applejack asked, staring down into her empty glass.

“Fruit juice,” Agave chirped, smiling, but now a little apprehensive. “Well, it’s a blend I… learned when I was little! We don’t have all of the ingredients here, but some of the older changelings showed me how to substitute them with local fruits! Um… Do you like it?”

Applejack paused again, licking her lips a bit before smacking them. The taste was really something; sweet and tangy, very much like oranges and… apples?

But more than that, something about the flavor struck Applejack as being very familiar indeed.

Where have Ah tasted this before…? 

“Yeah,” Applejack responded, a little distracted from her response. “Sure do. Seems ta me like ya got a keeper.”

The look of pure glee that blossomed on Agave’s face was almost too bright to look directly at. “I-I’m glad you like it!” she cheered, sounding almost faint.

A small chuckle from Applejack’s other side broke the silence, and when she looked around, she noticed her cyan neighbor smiling at her. In fact, it seemed like some sort of tension had gone out of most of the room, like a collective breath had been let out.

Conversations started up again, but Applejack couldn’t help but notice a few relieved looks shot in Agave’s direction.

For a brief moment of curiosity, Applejack wondered if some sort of line had nearly been crossed, but then she tossed the notion out for being ridiculous before she turned back to Agave.

“So did yer mom teach ya how to make this?” She asked. It was a harmless question – and kind of an obvious one to ask, Applejack thought.

But the moment she did, Agave froze. It was almost too hard to see – it was so brief – but for one split second, Agave stopped moving. When she restarted, her smile seemed almost… forced.

“O-oh, yeah,” she said with a little laugh. “All the time!”

Applejack paused when she looked Agave over, trying not to frown. “Uh… Agave? You alright?”

For the first time in Applejack’s few memories of the young changeling – cumulated over the last few days, mostly – Agave’s smile actually faltered just a bit.

But just as Agave opened her mouth to say something, another sound arose to intercept her.

The strange thing was that it didn’t come from anywhere near the group seated at the table, and yet it was substantial enough to everyone present for them to stop what they were doing and look around curiously.

Right away Applejack pinpointed the source of the commotion, and to her surprise she found it coming from the other end of the main square. And whatever it was, it seemed to be alarming quite a few changelings, who were all calling out – and by the sounds of it… running away.

“What’s going on?” Roseluck asked, confused, craning her neck to get a better look past the length of shrubbery barring her view.

Applejack exchanged a serious look with Rainbow, who merely nodded, and together they got up and headed straight towards the source of the problem.


~~***~~


The first thing Applejack noticed upon stepping onto the cobblestone ringing the square was the surprising number of changelings, all scurrying towards her for some reason. Some were even backing up, hissing warningly while more terrified drones buzzed and scampered in Applejack’s direction, huddling in trees, on top of houses and terraces – even the pergola she’d just been sitting under.

It was obvious to anyone that looked that them, Applejack especially, that something had very much spooked them, but instead of running away, they were all folding around her en masse, as if hoping for protection… or maybe, Applejack realized, it was the other way around. They were attempting to protect her.

And within moments, she found out why.

Something was moving up the main thoroughfare of the district, something that clattered and clanked and stomped with the sound of dozens of hooves striking in militaristic precision.

Only one thing in Ponyville made noise like that, and immediately it had Applejack frowning, her gut clenching.

It was Rainbow who spoke her thoughts almost perfectly, reflecting the opinions of nearly everyone present at that moment. “What’s the Guard doing here?”

Applejack didn’t have an answer. Ever since that night over half a year ago, the Royal Guard and the Ponyvillian changelings had had icy relationships at best. Vigil’s manipulation of the entire division into fighting for him had seen to that.

For the most part, both parties gave each other a wide berth and did their best to pretend like neither group was there, aside from adding extra incentive to the immigrating changelings to behave, lest they be met with the full extent of the consequences, courtesy of the ever-wary Guard.

But if the Guard was actually venturing into what they might as well decree as enemy territory, it was most certainly not because they had patrol duty. For one thing, patrols did not require a full sized regiment. And it most certainly did not come fully armed.

And when Applejack saw who was leading the squad, her fears only redoubled.

“Uh… What’s Captain Steel Shod doing here?” Rainbow muttered just loud enough for those nearby to hear her. “I thought he retired or something. I haven’t seen him around in forever.”

But there was no mistaking the huge, steel-gray stallion’s frame, nor the brown and silver plated armor cladding his sturdy body.

Honestly, Applejack had shared Rainbow’s opinion. The Guard had been so inactive in Ponyville for the past few weeks that she’d assumed the vast majority of the division had been withdrawn. But it sure seemed like she may have been wrong.

“He must’ve just been reinstated here,” Twilight said grimly. “I haven’t even heard about it yet, either.”

“Why?” Rainbow asked, sounding taken aback. “He hates changelings. Why put him back here?”

Twilight just shook her head, no more answers to give. But there was definitely going to be a letter or two inbound on a certain princess by the end of the day if she had anything to say about it.

“A-are we in trouble?” Bumblebee squeaked, looking towards each approaching guard anxiously.

“No,” Rainbow, Twilight, Roseluck and Applejack all said at the same time, for they all knew it to be true. No one had done anything wrong… they hoped.

Applejack kept her eyes locked on the advancing form of the Ponyville Guard Captain, but just judging by the sour look on his broad face, he wasn’t there to exchange pleasantries. He was there for a reason, and since his gaze was fixed on her, the young changeling had a good idea it involved her, too.

“Everypony, wait here,” Applejack ordered. “Ah’ll go see what’s goin’ on.”

A ripple ran through the gathered charcoal masses – an agitated, anxious sound that spread outward like a wildfire. Suddenly, the gathered changelings stopped falling back and simply remained in place. They let Applejack step forward and away from the gathering swarm, but there were still plenty of sharply focused individuals well within range to intervene, should the need arise.

Applejack did her best to ignore the drones around her – partly because seeing how quickly they were willing to bare their fangs twisted her gut. She stepped forward, eyes locked on Captain Steel Shod’s stormy grey ones.

The two parties met in a suddenly vacated no-man’s-land that’d grown between the approaching guards and the huddling drones.

“Afternoon, y’all,” Applejack said, her voice a little too serious and blunt to pull off a proper greeting. “What brings ya ‘round these parts?”

Captain Steel Shod eyed down his blocky muzzle at the apple farmer. His gaze was hard as iron, and no matter what Applejack tried, it made her feel like she was getting smaller and smaller, little by little.

“Afternoon,” the hulking stallion grunted back, his gruff voice in no way friendly. “As per Princess Celestia’s orders, I’m here to deliver your… kinds’ residency badges.”

Applejack blinked, taken aback. “Our what? Ah ain’t heard anythin’ like that before.”

Steel Shod hardly seemed fazed. “All changeling residents in Ponyville,” he started, speaking in a dull drawl as if reciting off an official manuscript, “are required to prove that they currently reside here for the coming Summer Sun Celebration. Any changelings caught at tomorrow’s celebration without their residency badge will be promptly arrested under suspicion of infiltration. Until, of course, it can be proven otherwise. Oh, and I should probably mention that it would be ill advised to attempt replicating one’s badge. The results could be… messy.”

He spoke the last part as if only just remembering it at the last second, like it was hardly a detail at all – some better judgment barely won out long enough to pass the warning along.

The young queen frowned, but bit back her tongue for a few seconds. She could raise her voice all she wanted – it’d likely do nothing but instigate more problems.

“Fine then,” she said, and she was proud that she sounded only half as exasperated as she felt. “Ah’ll make sure everyone’s got one fer tomorrow.”

Steel Shod gave Applejack a look, which she met in kind, before he motioned over one shoulder.

At his command, several guards stepped forward. They were hauling four large carts entirely filled with cargo boxes stacked almost precariously high and held down only with a few cords of rope. It would be impressive if all the boxes had managed to make the journey.

Immediately the swarm of changelings started chattering apprehensively, eyes fixed on the boxes. Rainbow Dash – who was too far back to hear a word the two had exchanged – was looking back and forth between the back of Applejack’s head and the ominous arrival of those carts.

Applejack herself looked the carts over, then nodded. “Alright then. Ah’ll get these passed out.”

“Be sure that you do,” Steel Shod warned. “Tomorrow is a very big day for Ponyville. I wouldn’t want a few incidents to mar it.”

Applejack held her ground, shooting the guard captain a sharp look. And ponies tell me Ah’m a bad liar…

But again, she kept her tongue in check. It was a habit she’d had to hone over several months, especially when dealing with officials. Her mouth had a bad habit of getting her into trouble otherwise.

Luckily, Captain Steel Shod wasn’t in the mood for much more conversation. Without even saying or gesticulating a goodbye, he turned on his heel, and then he and the rest of his stone-faced troops marched back the way they’d come.

But just before the Guard Captain could march fully out of earshot, he stopped as if remembering something, and then turned around.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, raising his gruff voice so that Applejack could hear him. With that, he reached into the inside of his armored collar, pulled out something roughly the size of a small bookmark, and flung it in Applejack’s direction.

As quick as a flash, something black shot across Applejack’s vision, and the next thing she knew, there were no less than six drones bulwarked in front of her, snarling and hissing. One of the drones had the thing Steel Shod had thrown at the young queen pinned under one bristling hoof in the dirt.

The whole mass behind Applejack buzzed in agitation again, but somehow remained in check.

Captain Steel Shod observed all of this for a moment, his expression stony, before turning around and continuing on. He left behind only the carts laden with badges and a very agitated population.

Though, if Applejack had to bet, she’d say he left the district a disappointed stallion, too.

“Are you alright, Miss Applejack?” one of the drones standing in front of her asked critically.

“Yeah, Ah’m fine,” she replied. “Don’t think he had a mind ta hurt me. He woulda brought more guards.”

One of the drones snorted just a little to herself, as if the notion was somehow amusing. Applejack ignore it, and instead kept her eyes fixed on the retreating backs of the royal guards.

Besides, Applejack thought to herself, Steel Shod ain’t stupid. He was hopin’ we’d start somethin’, not the other way ‘round.

But when Applejack looked around at the faces of the drones around her, she realized that maybe he’d come very close to succeeding.

“Alright, everypony, simmer down,” Applejack shouted, gaining everyone’s attention. “He was just tryin’ ta get a rise outta us.”

“I’ll give him a rise,” growled a voice beside her. “One hoof to the jaw. He’d never see it coming.”

Applejack spun around, intent on chewing out a drone, only to find Rainbow Dash standing beside her. When did she get there?

The pegasus was poised to strike beside her, muscles bristling and wings fluttering in pure agitation. All she needed was a reason.

“Take it easy there, sugarcube,” Applejack sighed, putting a hoof on her friend’s stiff shoulder. “Best ta just ignore him. We don’t want to start somethin’.”

“Hey, I’d say he started it, AJ,” Rainbow said. “Besides, what’d he even want, anyway? You know, besides to look like a total jerk.”

Applejack’s expression sombered, her eyes first drifting towards the carts still sitting a short distance away, and then to the thing Steel Shod had thrown at her.

Seeing where she was looking, the drone standing on the object removed his hoof and took a quick step back, as if expecting the thing to leap up at him in retaliation.

There, lying slightly indented into the dirt in a hoof print, was a rectangular, reflective silver piece of plastic with a hole at one end for a string.

Engraved upon its surface was the image of a comical little crown flanked by tattered wings. And directly beneath that were the two words that struck Applejack almost like a physical blow to the gut.

Queen Applejack


~~***~~


It only took an hour to get the residency badges handed out and sorted amongst the drones. Plenty were still buzzing angrily over Captain Steel Shod’s actions, but not one complained about the new restriction they’d been saddled with. In fact, some saw it as a challenge laid out for them to overcome.

On the other hoof, it seemed like the ponies were in a far worse mood over what was turning out to be a minor detail, at least in Applejack’s eyes.

“So what, they’re tagging changelings now?” Rainbow shouted, furious. “Steel Shod can’t just do that!”

“I doubt it was up to him,” Twilight responded, though she, too, was frowning.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rainbow growled, still bristling worse than ever. “If it was up to him, he’d throw every last changeling out of Ponyville, if not Equestria!”

“I’m sure he would do a lot of things if he was in control,” Rarity huffed, “but defy the princesses? That seems rather counterintuitive to his goals, don’t you think?”

“Well, he still sucks,” Rainbow grumbled, kicking a loose pebble irritably.

“Why are ya takin’ this so hard, sugarcube,” Applejack asked, nudging the pegasus in the side. “Yer makin’ this out ta be a bigger deal than it is.”

Rainbow rounded on her, temper flaring. “How can you – he’s treating you all like animals, Applejack!”

“Ah don’t rightly care how he sees us,” Applejack stated bluntly. “So long as he stays out of my way, Ah’ll stay out of his. As long as Ah don’t let it get ta me, we’ll just keep on keepin’ on. End of story.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to write to Princess Celestia tonight,” Twilight put in firmly. “Having a pony like that in charge of the Guard here is only asking for trouble. I just can’t imagine why she’d put Captain Steel Shod here.”

That was the million-bit question, wasn’t it? Why was Steel Shod back in Ponyville? Applejack entertained the notion that maybe Princess Celestia was hoping for more reforming to take place, after her success with Discord.

But why all of a sudden? The last time she’d heard, Steel Shod had been posted at some station down by the Badlands; a spot the changelings he hated so much had pointed out as being a main thoroughfare into and out of Equestria. Surely that would’ve been the perfect place for somepony like him.

But now he was back? Why, and why now?

By the time Applejack was finished with her unexpected – and a little unwanted – chore, she still had no answer for her building questions. The aches in her limbs from a long day’s work only made it that much more frustrating.

She continued to think over the events of the day as she trudged home, fully knowing that it’d only serve to irritate her more. She took her time, plodding along at her own pace, wallowing away the time, which of course did little to alleviate her growing irritations.

And again and again, she saw the face of her own badge – now tucked into one saddlebag – flash across her mind’s eye, and every time it did, it made her frown.

Queen Applejack…

That was bothering her so much more than it should’ve, and she knew it.

Queen Applejack…

Applejack ground her teeth, stopping halfway down the road leading to home.

Whose idea had that been? Steel Shod’s? Celestia’s? Maybe Shining Armor’s? Certainly it hadn’t been Twilight’s, or else there would’ve been more advance warning.

Applejack sighed, letting her breath out slow and steady. It helped somewhat, but not enough. She turned towards the setting sun – now dying the sky bloody crimson, the red orb only a short distance from the horizon – the apple farmer looking for something, anything to cool her head.

Why does everypony keep insistin’ on… callin’ me that…?

For a brief moment, her hoof started to inch up towards her Stetson. Or rather, the thing pretending to be a Stetson.

Ah ain’t anypony special…

The sound of a sudden, low rush of wind caught Applejack’s attention, making her pause.

“Hey.”

She turned her head around, not as surprised as she probably should’ve been, to find a familiar pegasus standing behind her.

The setting sun had turned Rainbow’s mane and tail various shades of reds, yellows and oranges and some unspeakable, darker color. Her eyes were practically rubies in the fading daylight, and they were currently fixed directly on the apple farmer.

Rainbow gave Applejack a careful look as she neatly folded her wings against her side. It seemed that she’d at least gotten over her temper, which was certainly a good thing. 

“Rainbow?” Applejack said, a little confused. “What brings ya all the way out here?”

And then she realized, when she saw the look Rainbow was giving her. “Did Roseluck send ya ta make sure Ah was doing okay?”

Applejack was fairly certain she’d done a poor job masking her frayed temper, considering she’d probably all-but stormed out of the district when she got done.

Rainbow glanced around a bit, as if trying to think of something good to say. “Well… yes and no.”

Applejack crooked an eyebrow, not entirely in the mood for playing games. “Well which is it?”

Rainbow rubbed the back of her neck, grinning a little sheepishly. “Well see, it’s like this. Roseluck kinda said something like ‘I hope Applejack’s not upset’, and I sorta decided to come check to make sure you weren’t upset, so…”

She paused, looking Applejack in the eye once more. “AJ, are you upset?”

Before she could catch herself, the apple farmer frowned. She at least saved some face by turning around to hide her expression. “Don’t you be worrin’ over me, sugarcube. Ah appreciate it, but it ain’t no big deal. Ah can handle it just fine.”

Rainbow was silent for a few moments, long enough that Applejack started to think that maybe her response had been satisfactory, until…

“AJ, you’re doing it again.”

Applejack blinked, confused, before turning back around. What she was not expecting was to see Rainbow giving her such a reproachful look. “Beg pardon?”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed a bit at that. “You’re trying to take the world on by yourself again,” she said. “You always do that whenever stuff starts bothering you. You just bury it deep down and hope it stays there. How well did that go last time?”

She took a sudden step closer, and Applejack had to fight to keep from backing up, much to her chagrin. 

“So what’s bothering you, Applejack?” Rainbow asked, her voice firm in that stubborn way Applejack had grown to hate so much. “I’m all ears.”

Again, Applejack frowned. But this time, she didn’t turn away. She only dropped her gaze, so that she wouldn’t be glaring at Rainbow.

“Is it about that whole thing with Steel Shod?” Rainbow asked.

“Look, it’s… it ain’t nothin’ big,” Applejack said. And yet, the words rushed out of her like a leak in a dam, defying any attempt at restraint. “But that’s just it. It ain’t any real big problem, but Ah’m lettin’ it get ta me when it shouldn’t be botherin’ me in the first place!”

She waved her hoof irritably through the air a little as she added, “Ah shouldn’t let bein’ called a queen get under my skin. It shouldn’t get ta me by now. But it does! Every time Ah hear it, it does! Because that ain’t who Ah am! But everypony keeps makin’ me out ta be somethin’ a whole heck of a lot more special than Ah really am!”

Without warning, Applejack suddenly deflated, her shoulders sagging wearily. “Ah… ain’t that special. That’s just the way it is.”

She looked up at Rainbow then, who hardly seemed taken aback by her friend’s outburst, before dropping her gaze once more. “That’s… just the way it is.”

She turned away from Rainbow then, biting her lip. “Ah’m sorry fer makin’ ya worry over me. But this is somethin’ Ah gotta sort through myself; Ah ain’t gonna push this off onto you ta do for me, too.”

There was real bitterness in her voice when she said those last few words. Just hearing herself talk like that to Rainbow made her feel even lousier.

“Ah… sorry, sugarcube,” Applejack muttered, privately pinning her eyes shut where Rainbow couldn’t see. “Would ya mind if we just dropped it? Ah ain’t in the mood right now.”

Rainbow was silent for a bit, her expression slightly pained. She bit her lip a little, not entirely sure what to do or say. All she understood was that her friend was hurting, and apparently hurting bad, and she just didn’t know what to do…

Until something occurred to her.

“Okay, AJ,” she said, “but only if you do me a favor.”

Applejack paused, confused despite herself. She looked around, frowning worse than ever.

And that’s when she saw Rainbow hovering almost a foot off the ground, smiling down at her as she offered one hoof.

Immediately Applejack realized what she was trying to do, and the ludicrousness of it nearly made her lose her temper all over again. Did she honestly expect to try to get her to into the air now?

“Rainbow, Ah ain’t –” she started to snap, only to get cut off right away.

“Just shut up and listen,” Rainbow snapped back forcefully, her smile flickering away for a moment until she was sure Applejack was too startled to speak up again. 

“Look, I’m not asking you to do a whole flight routine with me,” she pressed. “I just want you to come with me for a bit. That’s all I’m asking for, okay?”

She stretched out her hoof a little further towards Applejack, trying to smile encouragingly. “Trust me, AJ. I just want to show you something.”

Applejack frowned at Rainbow – very nearly glared, to be honest. She had half a mind to simply brush off the pegasus and get home, where she could at least get some time to herself.

But she owed Rainbow. Of all the times for the ornery pegasus to call in a debt, this had to be the absolute worst.

Yet, it was something in the look Rainbow gave her that finally caved her reluctance just enough to give in.

Applejack sighed in defeat. She undid the saddlebag on her back, tossed them to one side, and closed her eyes. In the next moment, her entire body was engulfed in emerald fire that consumed her pony features within moments in a blinding flash.

Within moments, Applejack the earth pony was gone. Applejack the amber-maned changeling stood in her place.

Rainbow waited patiently, trying to keep her eagerness composed somewhat as Applejack donned her saddlebags again. It wasn’t working.

Applejack was not quite so gleeful. “Alright, RD,” she said, “but the moment ya try to make me do some featherbrained stunt…”

To her surprise, Rainbow threw up her hooves placatingly. “I promise; no trick flying. I’m just showing you something, remember?”

Again, she offered her hooves, her eyes gleaming. “Trust me, cowgirl. You’ll like it.”

Still, Applejack was all-too hesitant about putting her neglected wings to the test. If it was anypony else asking, she’d never even be considering it.

But maybe, said a little voice in the back of her head, this could be just the thing she needed.

So, with a gut full of apprehension and an already panicking heartbeat, she hesitantly extended one hoof, then the other.

The whole time, Rainbow merely waited patiently, occasionally rolling her eyes or fighting back a smirk as Applejack worked up the courage, but not saying or doing anything to hint at any possible impatience.

Eventually, Applejack had both her hooves set on top of Rainbow’s, and she was already gripping them as hard as she could.

“Relax, AJ,” Rainbow said, grinning reassuringly, “I’m not gonna let you fall, I promise. Now… come on.”

And before Applejack had time to rightly steady herself, Rainbow started to ascend. Bit by bit, inch by inch, until the tips of her scrabbling holey hooves parted ways from the ground entirely.

Then she started to panic.

“Ah-Ah changed my mind, sugarcube,” Applejack said hastily, “Ah don’t think Ah can – P-put me down right now!”

But to her surprise, Rainbow started laughing at her. It wasn’t her usual boisterous laugh, or the mocking guffaw Applejack probably could’ve expected. Instead, it sounded almost bemused.

“What’re you saying, Applejack,” Rainbow chuckled. “You’re doing fine!”

Fine? How was Applejack doing fine?

And then she heard it. The low, furious buzzing sound in her ears, coming from almost immediately behind her head, gave her pause.

But it wasn’t until she actually turned her head to see the thrumming blurs on her back that she comprehended it. Rainbow wasn’t dragging her up into the sky. She was only helping her up.

Already her wings were complaining… but they were holding steady. She very nearly dropped out of the sky once she realized what she was doing, but she managed to keep herself airborne – even if a little desperately.

The ground was really dropping away now. Rainbow just kept tugging her up and up, higher and higher. And the only thing keeping Applejack steady was the pair of hooves under hers, and that was it.

Her legs kicked at the open air, instinctively trying to swing onto solid support. But there was none.

But every time she started to panic and look down, Applejack felt reassuring pressure on her hooves. She’d look up, and find Rainbow giving her a big smile.

“You’re doing great, AJ,” she said excitedly. “Just a little higher to go!”

Applejack had no idea what Rainbow was talking about; they were already very high up! The tallest tree was no longer anywhere near Applejack’s hooves, and with each passing second, the whole world got steadily smaller and smaller, until it seemed like the distant houses of Ponyville were miniatures of themselves.

Just as her wings started to truly ache and burn from the unfamiliar exertion, Applejack looked up, and at last spotted Rainbow’s final destination.

Directly above them, there was a wide, poofy cloud – one of the few in the entire sky. The moment Applejack saw it, her apprehension came screaming back.

“Rainbow, Ah can’t stand on clouds!” she said hastily. “Ah don’t know how!”

“Neither do I,” was Rainbow’s casual answer. “And I already told you, didn’t I? I won’t let you fall.”

Applejack was very much starting to believe that she’d just fallen victim to one of the cyan pegasus’ featherbrained plans, and was in imminent danger of feeling the consequences.

“Rainbow, Ah really don’t know about this,” she complained, but the cloud was already just a few feet above their heads.

And just a few moments later, they were on level with it. And Rainbow was tugging her closer still.

Applejack closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, expecting the worst…

But, to her surprise, the ‘worst’ ended up feeling like fluffy cotton down coming up to meet her.

“A-a-and, touchdown!” Rainbow cheered theatrically, laughing a little.

The wind whistled in Applejack’s ears, carrying with it a cool, refreshing gust that washed over her body and toyed with her mane and tail.

But the strangest feeling was that fluffy, cottony sensation under her back hooves, like the world’s largest cotton ball. And, more perplexingly, the fact that that sensation seemed to be tolerating her weight, if only just.

Finally, confusion won out, and Applejack opened her eyes.

And there she stood, balancing on her hind legs while Rainbow continued to support her front, standing in the middle of a small floating island of a cloud.

The cloud beneath her hooves felt odd and bouncy, like very spongy moss. It compressed beneath her hooves, allowing them to sink partway into the fluffy surface, yet it somehow had enough substance and support to keep Applejack from going all the way through.

Applejack’s wings slowed to a stop, rather experimentally, but she remained atop the cloud. When she finally released her death grip from Rainbow’s hooves, she was further amazed to find herself still there, standing atop what she’d always been taught would never hold her.

She glanced up at Rainbow, who was grinning in amusement and delight as she settled down in front of her. “See? This isn’t so bad, huh?”

To better illustrate her point, Rainbow tromped around the cloud a bit, walking in a little circle around the motionless changeling, all the while smiling victoriously to herself.

Applejack chanced a glance around her, and felt her heart skip a beat. They were high – very high in the air, higher than she’d ever gotten herself. 

And stretched out all around her was Equestria. Not just Ponyville or just the Everfree; she could see for miles and miles in every direction, along valleys and ranges of hills she didn’t even know existed. Off in the distance, she could just make out the mighty mountain that glittered with the lights of Canterlot, its gilded spires and golden rooftops catching the last, fading rays of the setting sun.

Yet, the thing that caught Applejack’s attention the most was the sky. How big it’d become; a gigantic, crimson and gold plain more vast than the world beneath it, more clear and resplendent than the shiniest gemstone. It just seemed to go on and on, limitless in scope and beauty.

Only a few clouds dared to intrude upon its splendor, and they caught the light of the ending day like golden wires and facets, shining in the sunset.

“Whoa nelly,” Applejack breathed to herself, turning around and around in awe.

Rainbow stifled a few giggles, contenting instead to savor every little reaction her friend was giving her.

After a few minutes of watching the amber-maned changeling reel, Rainbow stepped forward and took a seat, intentionally putting herself right next to Applejack.

This, of course, refocused the changeling, and after thinking about it for a second, she, too, carefully sat down on the fluffy, cottony surface of the cloud.

“I’ve always liked it up here,” Rainbow commented, watching the setting sun. “I mean, there’s all this room to fly around in, and there’s plenty of space to just be by yourself when you want.”

She then glanced to one side, meeting Applejack’s eye and flashing a grin. “Up here, I don’t feel so penned in. Yeah, sure, being on the ground is alright, but it’s so… small. The world just feels so small. Up here, however…!”

She suddenly sprang to her hooves, wings flaring open as she grinned fiercely at the setting sun. “Up here you can see the whole world! Whatever trouble you got into down over… there” – she jabbed a hoof down at some random spot, then again and again – “or there, or there or there, nopony’s heard of out there!”

She spread her hooves, gesturing not to one spot in particular, but rather all of them.

“And, when you’re so mad you could just scream,” she added, “well –”

Without warning, Rainbow inhaled a lung full of air, and then let it all out in a loud, furious scream on the verge of turning into some sort of war cry.

The moment she was done, she whipped around and fixed Applejack with a rather big smile, panting slightly. “And nopony cares!”

She was right, Applejack realized. Rainbow’s cry had been all-but swallowed whole by the wind blowing all around her, deafening the world bellow to her voice.

“Why don’t you try?” Rainbow suggested, then waved a hoof to the horizon. “Show me what you got, cowgirl!”

Applejack frowned at Rainbow for a moment, then turned to the skyline.

For a moment, she thought about all of the things that were bothering her; her sudden aches and pains, her place in the world… Queen Applejack…

That was all it took for the apple farmer’s temper to snap. She inhaled deeply, all the way to capacity, and then let out one of the loudest, angriest, most frustrated screams she’d ever produced in her entire life.

She let it all out; her anger at Steel Shod, her frustration at not being able to do what she should, the anxiety of all that pressure being placed on her every single day.

She emptied her lungs to the heavens, bellowing so loud and so hard that it burned in her throat. By the time she was done, she was left panting and wheezing, her limbs trembling with emotion.

Then she groaned, and let her legs slip out from under her. She flopped down onto the soft, downy cloud on her belly, suddenly feeling much more exhausted than she had a good explanation for.

For a few seconds, she just watched the setting sun with dull eyes, too worn out to contribute much more.

That was when Rainbow plopped down right beside her, nudging her side a little. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Applejack panted. “That’s… a lot better.”

“Good, cuz that’s the only trick I got,” Rainbow admitted. “Next up would’ve been me actually trying to be difficult.”

Applejack had to chuckle at that, a smile forming on her lips.

For a long time, they just sat there in companionable silence, comfortable in each other’s presence and requiring little more.

Until, of course, Rainbow opened her mouth.

“You know,” she started. “We still haven’t talked about what happened earlier today.”

Applejack paused, then sighed. Of course she’d still remember that…

“You promised we’d talk later, so guess what time it is,” Rainbow said, not quite managing to keep serious all the way through.

“Later,” Applejack sighed.

“Yep.”

The changeling was well aware of Rainbow’s gaze resting on the side of her head, but she did her best to ignore it for a few more seconds, unwilling to give up this moment of peace.

“Come on, AJ,” Rainbow said with a hint of impatience. “The last time you looked that upset, I’d found out this is how you really looked.”

Applejack winced, but said nothing. At least… for a little while longer.

But if there was anyone she could tell, it would have be Rainbow. Who else was there? Or rather, who else was she most comfortable with confiding in?

Finally, Applejack opened her mouth, closed it again, then started – very uncomfortably, and with a small frown. “Alright… but this is gonna sound mighty strange.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, as if to say “Whatever, like that’s new”, but kept her mouth shut.

Seeing that, Applejack bit her lip, then averted her gaze back out towards the sun. “Alright then… um… How do Ah put this… Rainbow… have ya ever molted those feathers of yers?”

Rainbow blinked, taken aback by the question. “Uh… yeah, all the time.”

Applejack’s eyes tightened, and when she spoke next, it came out with extreme reluctance. “All… all at… once?”

“Uh, no,” Rainbow admitted, now scrutinizing Applejack curiously. “AJ, what are you trying to say? Just come out and say it already.”

“Fine,” Applejack huffed, but still she avoided Rainbow’s eye. “Ya want the truth? Then here it is, but ya better listen up, cuz Ah don’t want to repeat myself.”

Rainbow nodded, waiting while Applejack paused a second longer, then said, “Ah… think Ah’m about ta shed.”

Rainbow blinked. That was her only immediate reaction; her expression stayed fixed, waiting for more information to be given before committing to some other arrangement. But no more words came out of Applejack’s mouth.

It took her nearly a minute to process what Applejack had just told her, and then it only left her with way more questions than before.

“Wait, wait… you shed?” she asked.

Applejack nodded, still averting her gaze.

“Like… everything?”

Again, Applejack nodded, only this time she added, “Every time it happened in the past, the shell on my back cracked open and… Ah just sorta… It’s like takin’ off a body-sized suit. Ya just… pull yerself out. But… well, Ah suppose that ain’t really the big deal fer me. Ah mean, it’s a pretty dang big deal, but not the biggest one.”

Rainbow blinked once more, now totally at a loss. “That’s… wow.”

“Ah know,” Applejack sighed, her ragged black ears flopping down against her head as she set it on top of the cloud. The faintest tingling of ionization tickled at her nostrils, but she was in no mood to pay it any mind.

“So then… what’s the big-big deal?” Rainbow asked, trying very hard to keep up, even though she was still hung up on the first point to begin with. Applejack sheds? Like… she sheds?

Again, Applejack sighed, spirits low. “The big deal, sugarcube, is that Ah’ve only ever shed twice in my life,” she said. “Once when I grew outta bein’ a foal, and again when Ah grew outta bein’ a filly.”

She looked up then, abruptly meeting Rainbow’s gaze almost sharply. “Do ya get what Ah’m sayin’, Rainbow? Every time Ah shed before, it was cuz Ah was growin’.”

Rainbow’s eyes widened in realization as it finally hit her. “Then that means… you’re still growing?”

Applejack gave her a wan smile, her heart not truly in it. “That’s right. You saw how big that queen was at the royal weddin’. As soon as Ah shed… that’ll be me, too.”

Rainbow’s chest clenched hard. She did remember; that changeling queen had towered over even Celestia.

Applejack’s expression became almost morose, her amber eyes turning away again. “It means… after Ah shed… Ah ain’t gonna look like a pony in this form no more,” she muttered, sounding helpless. “Ah ain’t gonna look like me no more.”

“Pff, what are you saying,” Rainbow snorted.

Her reaction completely took Applejack by surprise, so much so that she picked her head back up to give the cyan pegasus an incredulous look.

But Rainbow just gave her a look like she was being utterly and hopelessly ridiculous. “Of course you’ll look like you,” she said. “You’ll always look like you. Even if you turned into some big nasty hairless minotaur right this second, it’d still be you, right? You’d still be Applejack, and I’ll always be there for Applejack. So, all this stuff about you moping over something like that? Quit it. It’s not like you.”

Applejack gave Rainbow a curious look, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “Ya really think that?”

“Of course I do, idiot,” Rainbow replied, raising her eyes to the sky in exasperation. “So stop trying to cover up these things, alright? No matter what you do or what you become, you’ll always be Applejack to me. So get that through your thick skull already.”

Applejack was taken aback, well and truly, but it was nothing compared to when Rainbow spoke again.

“You’ll always be somepony special to somepony, Applejack,” Rainbow said, once more watching the sunset. “You can say you’re not all you want. But you’ll never fool me.”

And that was the thing, out of everything Applejack heard that day, that stuck with her. She had no words to follow that up with.

The two just sat in silence, watching together as the day – like the weight on Applejack’s heart – faded to nothing.


~~***~~


Night had only just blanketed the land in its cool, peaceful embrace, speckling the sky with innumerable points of lights that seemed to dance in the otherwise lightless void.

Down at a certain farmstead, a young filly looked out a window, brow creased with worry.

“Applejack sure is late,” she mumbled anxiously. “Do ya think somethin’ happened ta her?”

“Oh don’t you be frettin’ none,” spoke up elderly Granny Smith, who was sitting in the living room, idly knitting a replacement placemat for the dinner table – the old one having turned to rags some days ago. “Applejack’s probably just out there with her friends.”

“But she missed dinner!” Apple Bloom protested, scanning the sky. “What if that scary lady goes lookin’ fer her, too?”

Granny Smith and Big Macintosh, who was still cleaning up the kitchen, paused to exchange a silent look, and then in unison, their eyes turned to the table.

Or rather, the small, melon-sized, grubby cardboard box sitting dead center on the table, it’s top covered in various ink stamps and very official looking tape. But none were as glaringly obvious as the single word that’d been stamped across the top in bold, ominously red ink.

Failed
	
> Chapter 4: The Celebration
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4: The Celebration


Ponyville rarely came alive so early in the morning. Usually, ponies would still be rousing in their beds or puttering around kitchens, waiting for coffee to percolate. 

The streets at that hour usually belonged to the children on their way to school and the mail ponies happily going about delivering packages – to mostly correct addresses, anyway.

That was a typical day. Today was not a typical Ponyville day.

Princess Celestia’s charge was hardly more than a promising glow on the brightening horizon, and already the streets were teaming with activity. Carts filled the streets, being coordinated hither and thither in a way only Twilight Sparkle’s handiwork could accomplish.  

Stalls were going up as fast as their owners could put them, like their lives depended on it. School had been called, and colts and fillies were making the most of the day off – either by helping their parents were they could, or simply staying out of their way, only too eager for things to kick off in earnest. More than a few excited eyes watched as attractions were put together and tested right in front of them, and already children were pawing pleadingly at their parents’ legs, begging for bits to spend on the coming day.

But over at Golden Oaks Library, it was something of a different scene.

Very early mornings – or, in most cases, extremely late nights – were a fact of life for the two residents. That morning was proving to be little different.

At her writing desk, Twilight Sparkle gazed down upon a freshly delivered letter, a confused frown on her face as she leaned her head against one hoof, wings ruffling uncomfortably. 

She’d practically been woken out of a light doze when the letter shot out of Spike’s mouth with a belch and nearly smacked her in the face with the velocity it’d achieved. Coincidentally, soda was no longer allowed at the dinner table. Or, really, anytime Twilight was expecting mail.

But for Princess Celestia’s response to her query to take so long, Twilight had been expecting some lengthy explanation to assuage her mounting concerns, not add to them. But that was precisely what she’d received, much to her frustration.

In fact, the letter Twilight had gotten back hardly seemed to have anything to do with answering her questions about the residency badges that’d been forced upon the changelings.

Something’s not right here… why is Princess Celestia doing this? Maybe something happened… but what? What isn’t she telling me?

Twilight ran her hoof under her chin worriedly and once again read the paragraph that’d been bothering her for nearly an hour now.

The badges, I can understand a little. They’re just for the Celebration, and there’s no way they’d have all those important ponies in one spot without some kind of precaution. But this just doesn’t make any sense… Why does she want…?

“Twilight! Somepony’s here to see you!” called Spike’s voice from deep within the library, bringing the librarian back to her senses.

“Coming!” Twilight called. She paused for a few moments longer, eyeing the letter with worry. Then, she got up to see who it might be, especially at such an early hour. The distraction may not be welcome, but at the same time, she found herself in desperate need of it.

She momentarily entertained the idea of simply jumping out the nearby window and gliding down to the ground on her new wings. How thrilling that would be. 

But it was precisely the newness of those wings that caused her to ultimately toss out the idea with a giggle and shake of the head.

She instead took the more familiar route; walking down a short hall leading from the top floor study down to her and Spike’s bedroom before descending a second set of gently spiraling stairs down to the ground floor.

But the pony waiting uncertainly downstairs was not, in any way, somepony she’d been expecting to find calling on her before the sun was even up.

“Daisy?” Twilight said in surprise, pausing on the landing. “What brings you here?”

Standing near the door was a pink mare, looking around the room idly until she heard Twilight’s voice, at which point she stiffened and straightened up.

While perhaps not the most famous flower sister in Ponyville, Twilight recognized Roseluck’s sibling easily enough. She’d been around the trio enough in recent months to at least know them by sight, even if she’d never really had a chance to talk to either her or Lily Valley as more than customers. So, having Daisy suddenly drop in unannounced was definitely not something the studious alicorn would’ve ever thought to expect.

Daisy, too, looked a little uneasy with her impromptu visit, like she was intruding somewhere she shouldn’t be, and was in imminent danger of being reprimanded if she put even one hoof out of line.

“Good morning, Miss Sparkle,” she said, offering an awkward but respectful bow. “Rose wanted me to come by to give you a message.”

“Oh,” Twilight responded, only more surprised than before. “Alright then. Would you like some coffee?”

Daisy politely turned down her offer, but seemed to appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

As Twilight stepped closer to the pink mare, she couldn’t help but notice how rather unadorned she was. Truth be told, she’d never given it much thought, but…

“Daisy, don’t you have a badge?” she asked.

Daisy blinked at her, expression uncomprehending. “Badge? What badge? Like that thing Rose came home with last night? Was everypony supposed to get one?”

Twilight backpedaled a bit, waving a dismissive hoof. “O-oh, never mind, I just thought… never mind.” Of course, now she couldn’t help but wonder; just what was the dynamic in their household?

“So,” she started again, putting on a little extra cheer to smooth over her careless statement, “What did Roseluck want to tell me? Did she and Applejack hit some kind of a problem?”

Daisy once more fidgeted at that, looking even more uneasy. “Well… that’s the thing. She was wondering of, maybe, you knew where Applejack was. She’s… um… kinda gone missing.”

Twilight, for a second, froze in place. Her entire body went rigid, her expression freezing in one of forced friendliness as her pupils – slowly but surely – began to contract. 

It took her nearly ten whole seconds to process the news she’d just been given, which ended up being the last ten seconds of her peaceful, tranquil morning.

“Oh no.” 


~~***~~


Rainbow Dash did not want to wake up. That was the first thing she truly understood when her mind started to do the exact opposite of what she wanted. She was just so comfortable, so warm and… comfortable. There really was no other way to describe it.

But the harder she tried to fight against the rousing faculties of her mind and body, the more they seemed to want to betray her.

She could feel a soft, almost imperceptible breeze toying idly with her mane and tickling her feathers. In the distance, she just thought she heard the commotion of Ponyville. It was still too distant to be bothersome, but there was no way she could overlook it by that point.

Rainbow could feel the soft yet lukewarm fluff of clouds – her favorite bedding material, for sure; never too cold, never too warm, always the right temperature, every day of the year. But there was also something else; something so much more comfortable and actually warm nestled beside her.

It couldn’t be the cloud; it was too firm. But it was also soft in its own way, like a pillow left out in the sun for just the right length of time.

Rainbow cracked open her eyes, but for the life of her she couldn’t comprehend what this black, soft pillow was, or why it smelled or felt so good…

She shrugged internally, then wrapped her hooves and wings around the snuggly warm thing, unwilling to let sleep relinquish her just yet.

Until it snuggled her back.

Never before had Rainbow shot to full awareness quite so fast before. All at once, her eyes shot open, drowsiness long forgotten as her brain hit the ground running.

And the first thing she saw was Applejack snoozing softly beside her, her head resting on one of Rainbow’s forelegs, her side pressed against Rainbow’s.

Rainbow immediately went rigid, her wings shooting open in alarm, her head snapping up. 

She managed to keep from crying out at least, or from making any sound at all. Then again, Rainbow’s body failed to make much of a reaction to begin with, her mind stalling at the crucial moment.

But Applejack didn’t react in the slightest. She stayed in a dead sleep, her face soft and weightless.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Rainbow’s panic began to die back down.

How long had it been since she’d seen the apple farmer look like that? Like the weight of the world wasn’t forcing itself upon her? It seemed like forever… months, even…

What all must she be putting up with? Certainly Rainbow had caught a glimpse of it. But to make somepony like Applejack feel like that… How much stress was she putting herself through?

Slowly, Rainbow’s nerves calmed. Something was twitching at the back of her mind, like there was something she needed to say or do. But what?

“Applejack…” she muttered, but didn’t know what else to say. It just… came out.

The amber-maned changeling’s ear twitched, flicking a little at the sound of Rainbow’s voice, but still Applejack showed no signs of waking up.

But really, there was no rush. What was the harm in letting Applejack sleep a little longer? If anypony deserved a respite, it was her; at least, Rainbow sure thought so.

So, the pegasus forced herself to relax, and then gingerly, she placed one wing over her friend’s back.

Applejack mumbled slightly in her sleep so quietly Rainbow barely even heard it. But that was all she did. She didn’t readjust herself or reposition. Applejack seemed more than comfortable staying right where she was, snuggled into Rainbow’s side, sharing her warmth.

For some reason, Rainbow suddenly found herself smiling a little. She couldn’t imagine why, but it didn’t feel so weird it had to be pushed away. So, she let herself smile a little, then set her cheek back down against Applejack’s neck, easily finding a comfortable position of her own, and closed her eyes.

That was when she heard a barely restrained giggle. And it did not come from her, or Applejack.

And even worse, she recognized that voice, too.

For the second time that morning, Rainbow went rigid. This time, her head came up slowly, afraid of seeing what she knew she’d see.

But she was there alright, hovering only a few feet away like some kind of vulture, in perfect view of everything.

Rainbow stared in welling horror straight into the gleeful, alarmingly huge smile of Cloudkicker, who seemed on the very cusp of losing it completely.

She started to speak, immediately covered her mouth with a hoof in order to fight back a fresh wave of giggling while holding up the other hoof towards Rainbow, took a second longer, then managed to somehow get out, “So… how was your night?” It even sounded casual.

Pity, then, that it was anything but.

All of the color drained from Rainbow’s face. It was quite the spectacle actually; going from bright cyan blue to ghostly periwinkle in under ten seconds.

“Um… it isn’t what it looks like?” she ventured with a rather maniacal grin.

“Wanna bet?” Cloudkicker countered brightly. “Oh, speaking of bets, Blossom owes me fifty bits now. So thanks for that!”

Rainbow groaned, desperately wanting to smack herself in the forehead. If only there wasn’t a sleeping changeling currently pinning them down…

“Cloudkicker, if you start some stupid rumor because of this, I will end you.”

Cloudkicker rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling widely. “Yeah, I’ll start them.”

Rainbow glared daggers at her, now completely over her shock. “Why are you even here? You know; besides to bug me.”

“I thought that’s what she did,” Cloudkicker teased, nodding her head towards Applejack.

“Cloudkicker,” Rainbow growled through clenched teeth. “Not. In. The mood.”

“Fine, fine,” Cloudkicker said, backing off. “And for your information, I’m not the one you should really be worried about right now.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah?  And who is?”

“That would be me,” said a clipped voice directly behind her.

This time, Rainbow yelped, very nearly shooting to her hooves in alarm.

The jolt in her body was, however, enough to finally cause Applejack to stir, her amber eyes fluttering open in sleepy bewilderment.

But Rainbow was too preoccupied to notice. She was more interested in the pegasus mare currently lounging in the cloud fluff behind her, idly filing one khaki hoof almost leisurely.

Yet, even with the extreme oddity of suddenly having wings, there was no way Rainbow could’ve mistaken Roseluck. And she was not in a good mood.

“Oh… ponyfeathers.”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Roseluck said, her voice rather short – irritated, even.

The sound of the changeling’s voice was all it took to bring Applejack to full awareness. Her eyes shot open as she sat up straight, very nearly head-butting Rainbow on the chin.


For the longest time, Applejack only stared at Roseluck, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes – and hopefully any lingering dreams. But there was just no dispelling the khaki and rose-maned pegasus lounging in the white fluff behind her.

It took her a while, but after a bit, she finally relaxed. “Roseluck,” she gasped, exhaling in relief. “Landsakes, ya almost gave me a heart attack.”

The earth-pony-turned-pegasus continued to idly file one of her hooves patiently, stopping now and then to admire her handiwork before picking another spot to worry at. Strangely, Roseluck seemed to be wearing something around her neck on a simple length of twine; something iridescent green, and roughly the size and shape of a bookmark.

But Applejack was more aware of the hard set of her olive-green eyes and the tightness in her jaw; Roseluck was in a bad mood.

“I could say the same thing to you, Applejack,” she quipped, her choice of inflection level enough, but still just a little flat. “The next time you feel like spending the night on a cloud, please let someone know, would you?”

Applejack blinked, exchanging an apprehensive look with Rainbow, but she was just as confused as AJ. “Ah’m gettin’ the feelin’ Ah’m in trouble,” she noted, her insides squirming uncomfortably.

Roseluck looked up from her work, and this time she didn’t bother to hide the pointed exasperation in her eyes when she gave Applejack and Rainbow a very stern look apiece. “You never made it home last night,” she stated simply, her voice flat and sharp. “This morning, your little sister came wandering into the district, asking if anyone knew where you were because she hadn’t seen you all night. Imagine, for a moment, how that went.”

Applejack winced, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. She hadn’t even thought to consider that. And after yesterday’s incident with Steel Shod…

“Oh horseapples,” Applejack said, gut clenching for real now. “Please tell me Ah didn’t get anyone into trouble.”

Roseluck paused, then sighed almost begrudgingly, as if unwilling to give up her bad mood. “No, fortunately. The search party hadn’t formed yet when someone found you. Though next time, I wouldn’t count on your cloud drifting over the district, okay?”

Applejack nodded, still feeling very guilty indeed. “Rose… Ah’m real sorry. Ah shoulda been keepin’ stuff like that in mind.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Rainbow interjected, sitting up. “Applejack didn’t do anything wrong. This was all my idea.”

“Yeah, and Ah went along with it,” Applejack said firmly, nudging her friend. “So Ah guess we’re both ta blame.”

Again, Roseluck sighed, though this time not as heavily, and the ice in her expression faded. “No… no, it’s alright, Applejack. You were in a bad mood yesterday; I figured you’d just gone off somewhere to blow off some steam.”

Cloudkicker snickered to herself, earning her a cold glare from Rainbow.

“Besides…,” Roseluck continued, pointedly ignoring the incorrigible weather pony,  “I had a very good idea who’d be with you, so I knew you’d be just fine.”

When she added that, Roseluck glanced to the side lightly, her eyes flicking to the rainbow-maned pegasus.

But Rainbow was sitting stalk still, her eyes getting wider and wider as something started to dawn on her. “Wait… did you say… this morning? As in…”

“As in,” Roseluck said patiently, as if speaking to a confused filly, “you spent all night up here.”

That got Applejack’s undivided attention, without question, leaving her feeling nearly disoriented with shock.

Applejack immediately snapped her head up, an all-new fear hitting her like a freight train.

Her eyes immediately turned to the horizon in front of her… only to see open, empty sky and a landscape basked in soft light coming from behind her.

The sun wasn’t looming in the west. It was on the verge of peeking up from the east.

The day of the Summer Sun Celebration had finally come, and Applejack had only one thing to say to that.

“Well… horseapples.”

Roseluck remained quiet. Instead, her attention was drawn towards one of Applejack’s hind legs – particularly, the one she kept ringing out absentmindedly, as if it were on pins and needles. There was something about that that she found… odd.

But a split second later, she refocused. “You two have time enough to goof around later,” Roseluck said as she stood up. “Come on, we don’t have much time left to get you ready, Applejack. The celebration will be getting underway any –” 

In the distance, a shrill whistle cut through the quiet morning air like a knife, ringing out all across the thatched roofs and treetops below.

Applejack was just high enough in the sky to have an unparalleled bird’s eye view of the vast majority of Ponyville, and right away she spotted the most likely culprit of that sound; a train, all gleaming glass and shining metal nearly seventy cars long, was pulling into the station – the first of many, if Applejack had to guess.

Applejack sighed to herself, watching the first definitive, irrefutable sign of the imminent celebration and feeling all the apprehension it brought with it. There’d be no putting it off any longer, it seemed.

“Well, Ah suppose we better hop to it,” she said, though there were butterflies in her stomach.

Roseluck paused again, and then exhaled gently. A reassuring smile rose on her lips, her irritation fading away. “Don’t worry so much, Applejack,” she said bracingly, coming to stand beside her. “A few aristocrats won’t be enough to get to somepony like you.”

“Pff, no way,” Rainbow added, snorting in derision at the mere thought. “As long as somepony doesn’t overthink things.”

She ended by bumping against Applejack, which earned her a sheepish grin in response.

Roseluck chuckled at that, then glanced back towards the young changeling queen. “But, if it wouldn’t be any trouble, could you do me a favor? Please?”

When Applejack turned to give her a quizzical look, she noticed Roseluck giving her a slightly pleading smile. “Could you please try to have a little fun?”

Applejack hesitated, then cracked a rueful smile. “Sure, Rose. Ah think Ah can manage that. So… let’s get to it, shall we? Think Ah’ve had about enough sky fer one day.”


~~***~~


Never before had Applejack seen the changeling district so alive with activity. Practically overnight, the wooded streets had undergone a startling transformation, and it was due in no small part to the almost hyperactive drones shooting this way and that through the air.

Brightly colored stalls had materialized out of nowhere, lining the main thoroughfare with vendors and their wares. Decorations similar to the ones that’d already come to blanket the rest of Ponyville now lined the trees and bushes, complimenting the innumerable flowers that’d all simultaneously opened wide from one end of the district to the other in an unnaturally choreographed display.

Even the district itself seemed even more dazzling than Applejack remembered it; the canopy seemed to let in more sunlight, the grass that covered the ground seemed even more vibrant and vivid – even tree trunks and the branches they grew seemed brighter, cleaner, as if lacquered.

Greenery had been trimmed to perfection, flowers pruned, and by now even the biggest sticklers for detail seemed to be looking around with moderately satisfied looks on their faces.

Of course, the first thing Applejack noticed was not how beautiful everything had become, but rather the veritable mob waiting for her on the ground.

The moment Applejack touched down and let go of Rainbow for support, she was immediately swarmed by anxious individuals, all crowding together to make sure their queen was indeed completely unscathed. They crowded together like a congregation of worried puppies, and nothing Applejack said or did seemed to appease them all.

But it wasn’t just changelings that were present. Applejack learned that the hard way when a little yellow filly all-but tackled her with quite the spectacular running leap.

“Applejack!” Apple Bloom cheered, pulling herself securely to one of the changeling’s holey forelegs. “Where were ya? Ah’ve been lookin’ all over fer ya!”

Applejack chuckled, using her free hoof to pat the bow-wearing filly’s head. “Aw shucks, ya know Ah can handle myself just fine, Apple Bloom. There ain’t no need ta be worrin’ so much over me.”

Apple Bloom fidgeted a little, not quite meeting her surrogate older sister’s eye. But she didn't release her grip on Applejack's foreleg, nor did she seem to have the slightest inclination to want to apologize.

She started to say something, but she was hardly the only one vying for Applejack’s attention. This also included a very hysterical yellow, black and white, scarf-wearing pegasus who was both crying, shouting and hiccupping all at the same time.

“D-don’t you ever do something like that a-again!” Bumblebee cried, hiccupped, then took Applejack completely by surprise when she threw her hooves around the apple farmer’s ashy neck in a big hug. “A-and if you do, I’ll hate you f-forever!” she finished, all the while squeezing the ever-living daylights out of the young queen while everyone stared at her in complete shock.

It took three drones to first pry Bumblebee off of Applejack, and then calm her down. But her hiccups were there to stay; every now and then she’d jolt just a little with a squeak she couldn’t quite cover up.

“Ah’m really sorry, Bumblebee,” Applejack apologized more than once, patting the drone on the head. “Ah didn’t mean ta make ya worry so much. Tell ya what; why don’t ya stick with me today. Would that make ya feel better?”

Bumblebee paused for a second, caught off guard by the proposition. Then, she peeked up at the apple farmer, a little glimmer of hope in her ruby eyes. “Do… you mean that? I-I’m not sure I could be of mu-much use, but…”

“Ya’ll do fine,” Applejack chuckled, fighting back rolling her eyes. Sometimes, it really was like she was trying to talk to Fluttershy. She then glanced to her other side and ruffled Apple Bloom’s mane as well. “Same goes fer you, Apple Bloom. Yer welcome as long as ya like, once all that hooey with the opening ceremonies is over and done with.” 

The little bow-wearing filly beamed brightly at that. “Thanks, Applejack!”

Beside her, Roseluck hesitated, eyes on Bumblebee for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she smiled. “Well, I suppose that’ll be alright. So, that just leaves…”

Any further conversation was promptly interrupted by a dazzling flash of violet magic bursting into being right in the middle of the congregation, causing nearly everyone to leap back in surprise.

And there, standing in the middle of the group, was a rather harried-looking Twilight Sparkle, wings flared in anxiety, eyes darting this way and that frantically before locking on to Rainbow Dash – much to the pegasus’ alarm.

“Rainbow! There you are – I’ve been looking all over for you!” Twilight cried, grabbing ahold of her friend by the shoulders before she could get away. "I think my tracking spell wore off; it's been a nightmare trying to find you!"

“Uh, w-what’s up, Twi’?” Rainbow asked nervously while trying to cover it up with a friendly smile. "Wait, tracking spell? what –"

“’What’s up’ is I can’t find Applejack!” Twilight burst out, flailing her forelegs irritably, even bouncing into the air on her wings out of pure frustration and completely ignoring her friend's question. “Please tell me you have some idea where she is.”

Rainbow blinked, then glanced away – towards a suddenly very nervous apple farmer.

The sound of the young queen clearing her throat behind Twilight made the alicorn cease to move in any capacity. “Um… mornin’, Twi’,” Applejack said, trying very hard to be friendly and not on edge. “How, uh, how’s yer day been goin’?”

Twilight, however, stayed frozen. She was motionless for a long time, one ear twitching spastically. Then, her head very slowly turned in the direction of her friend, eyes wide and almost accusing.

“Twi’? You alright?” Applejack asked, all the while considering whether or not she was a safe distance from the alicorn.

After a momentary pause, Twilight abruptly released Rainbow, nearly sending her toppling to the ground. Then, she rounded on the young changeling queen. “Applejack,” she started, sounding eerily calm, “where have you been?”

“Sleepin’,” Applejack responded, sticking to the facts.

“Where?”

“Up on a cloud. Kinda dozed off without realizin’.”

“And… you were never lost?”

“Not that Ah know of.”

Twilight paused, seeming to take this into consideration. “And… you know the princesses are going to be here in, you know, any minute now, right?”

Applejack hung her head a bit, looking repentant. “Look, Twilight, Ah’m sorr—”

“And you’re still not ready?” went on Twilight as if her friend hadn’t even spoken. Now her frayed temper came through, exploding like a dam rupturing. “Do you know what time it is?! The festival officially starts literally any minute now!”

Twilight looked like she was on the verge of going off on quite the tangent, one hoof coming up to point threateningly at the unacceptably unprepared changeling in front of her.

But, at the last second, she caught herself. She breathed in hard through her nose, placing her hoof against her chest, before letting an entire lungful of air back out in a huff, motioning away from her with the same hoof. She repeated this ritual two or three more times, focusing only on breathing in and out, and for the most part, it seemed to do the trick in alleviating the worst of her frustration.

“Okay… okay, we don’t have much time left, but I we should have enough before we make our appearance. How are things going on your end, Roseluck?”

“We’re just about finished,” the changeling reported. “All that’s left is for everyone to take their positions when everypony gets here.”

“Alright, good,” Twilight said with a nod, and she relaxed somewhat. They weren’t as behind schedule as she’d feared. Maybe things wouldn’t be going horribly wrong for a change.

But now that the main problem was over and done with, an unsolved conundrum came clambering back to the forefront of her mind, much to her displeasure. Celestia’s letter once more drifted through her mind, and she couldn’t help but frown a little.

“Um, Roseluck, I do have something for you,” Twilight admitted. When Roseluck gave her a questioning look, Twilight scrunched her eyes shut, and for a brief moment winked out of existence again.

Everyone blinked, had time to glance around to their nearest neighbor, and giving Rainbow a chance to say "Seriously, what tracking spell?" and then another burst of magic heralded the newly crowned princess’ return.

Only, this time, she had something with her. Hovering beside her in the air, floating on a thin violet veil, was an unsealed letter.

Roseluck may not have been the most high-class, in-the-know changeling in the world, but even split in half, she recognized the royal seal of Canterlot that’d been stamped across one edge of the scroll in wax, which only shot her brow up high.

“Twilight Sparkle, isn’t that a letter from Princess Celestia herself?” she asked warily.

“Yes, but there’s something in it for you, too,” Twilight pressed, and without waiting for the other’s confirmation, she floated the scroll closer before setting it on the ground at Roseluck’s hooves.

The rose-maned pegasus, however, only gave it an apprehensive look. “Twilight, these are private correspondences,” she pointed out. “I can’t possibly –”

“Oh yes you can,” Twilight pressed, cutting her off. “If I had more time, I’d explain it myself. But Applejack and I still have to get ready, and there won’t be enough time left between the two. So, you have my permission to read it, alright?”

Roseluck blinked, but continued to look unsure, taken aback. Six months ago she was nothing more than a humble florist. Now here she was, privy to the conversations between royalty? It certainly was a bit much to take in.

But she was also no fool. If Twilight thought it was serious enough to give to her, it must be very important indeed.

“Might I ask what this is about?” Roseluck asked seriously.

Twilight paused, eyes on the letter with a look that didn’t inspire Roseluck’s confidence. “There’s been a… slight change in plans. Everything should be in there, but I really don’t have time to explain. Come on, Applejack; Rarity’s waiting for us.”

“Hold on a second, Twi’,” Applejack complained, but she was in a losing battle between her own strength and Twilight’s indomitable telekinetic push. All she was really accomplishing was leaving four hoof-shaped skid marks across the dirt from her locked legs. “What’s this all about? What’s changed?”

“I’ll explain on the way,” Twilight promised. “Now let’s go!”

“Alright, alright, quit yer pushin’, already!” Applejack complained, just before the two were wrapped in a small nebula of light and disappeared entirely.

Rainbow just stared at the spot both her friends once stood in, blinking as she tried to process what’d just happened.

“Did… Applejack just get kidnapped?” she asked numbly.

Roseluck stayed just as motionless as her, but she was the first to truly recover. “Well, that was… odd.”

A moment later, she looked down warily at the thing nearly resting against one hoof. The parchment looked innocent enough, at least at first glance, but for some reason it seemed a lot more imposing than something its size should’ve been.

Then, very carefully, she reached down and scooped up the letter with exceeding gentleness, as if afraid it would crumble to dust if she handled it wrong.

Of course, such a thing never happened. So, she carefully unrolled the scroll and started to read, feeling like the entire time she was sticking her nose where it really didn’t need to be.

It wasn’t a particularly lengthy letter, consisting primarily of only three paragraphs written so precisely it was a wonder that it hadn’t come off a printing press. Each word was crystal clear, each letter unmistakable, so that their meaning could never be misconstrued. And it was more than enough to bring a very worried frown to Roseluck’s face only halfway down the page.

“What up, Rose?” Rainbow asked, cocking her head to one side and moving a little closer. Then it occurred to her. “Twilight talked to Celestia about the badge thing, didn’t she?”

“Well, yes,” Roseluck said slowly, distracted. “But…”

“So? What’d Princess Celestia have to say?” Rainbow pressed, stepping closer, eager for good news.

Roseluck glanced her olive green eyes up over the rim of the letter at Rainbow, her lips pursed a little. “Nothing, really; only that they’re a security measure for the Celebration, and that’s about it. They’re just something we have to put up with for today because a bunch of nobles petitioned for it.”

Rainbow should’ve felt relieved to hear that. It was good news, better than some of the scenarios she’d been playing through her head last night.

So, if it was good news, why did Roseluck looked so concerned?

“So what’s the catch?” Rainbow asked, a little irritated at not getting what must’ve been a bigger picture. She didn’t have much patience on a normal day, and what little she normally had was quickly giving way at that moment.

Roseluck paused, looked down at the letter again to scan some line of text as if to double check something, then glanced back up at Rainbow, her expression uneasy.

“Princess Celestia… is requesting that Applejack has bodyguards,” she said. “In fact, she wants bodyguards for all of the royalty, Twilight Sparkle included.”

Rainbow stopped and stared at Roseluck, eyes wide. “She wants what?”

But Roseluck didn’t respond. She seemed too lost in thought, her eyes going back to the letter with building worry. “Did something happen?” she muttered to herself. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna having an honor guard is to be expected, sure. But why Applejack, too…? Perhaps it's just a custom, or standard practice. But if that's it... why wait to tell us at the last minute...?”

Rainbow felt an uncomfortable wave wash over her, causing her to squirm a little. “Do you think she caught wind of something bad?”

For a moment, a particularly dark shadow moved over Roseluck’s face. It was a look that made even Rainbow uneasy with thoughts that just didn’t sit well with her at all.

But after a few moments, Roseluck shook her head as if to dispel whatever dark musings lingered in her mind, frowning deeply. “I… I don’t know. I don’t presume to know what the princesses are up to, but if she caught wind of something, then –”

A loud, bellowing horn blew over the treetops, causing both Roseluck and Rainbow to jump nearly a foot into the air and several nearby changelings to yelp in alarm and look around swiftly.

It must’ve been truly deafening, because it seemed to be coming from nowhere near the district at all. It bellowed over the roof tops, echoing all across town this way and that so that not a soul could’ve missed it. More perplexingly, it didn’t seem to be coming from ground level at all.

“—She’d be out of time,” Roseluck finished, her voice oddly stilted.

Just as Rainbow looked around, on the verge of asking the very pertinent question of what the hay that’d been, a huge shadow fell over her and the gathered changelings, cast by something large passing right over their heads.

Rainbow tilted her head up, and what she saw through the tree branches overhead momentarily struck her dumb.

There, sailing directly over her head and above the tree canopy, was the crimson prow of a ship.

~~***~~

All across Ponyville, ponies suddenly found their eyes drawn skyward – first by the sound of that bugling horn, and then by the thrumming, whirring sound of propeller blades slashing through the air on powerful steam engines.

And one by one, the airships appeared.

Each was a spectacle in itself. No two looked alike at all, and most were so extravagant and luxurious that they almost seemed otherworldly.

The first to appear was a sleek crimson ship lined and embroidered with golden streaming lines, like the wind made art. Even the balloon supporting the slender hull was narrow and streamlined, and the back seemed to be alarmingly belching fire nearly ten feet long, sending it racing across the sky.

The next airship to lumber into Ponyville’s airspace looked like a grand, potbellied galleon with the bow of a regal, golden dragon, sailing the winds on not only a gigantic bladder of helium and a triple set of scimitar-like flying props, but also on several gigantic sails that hung from the ship’s sides and underbelly like the fins of some colossal creature, each stamped with some kind of family coat of arms.

And they just kept coming, each more spectacular than the last. Some were huge, antiquated behemoths lovingly restored to pristine condition, billowing with smoke from coal furnaces or issuing blasts of steam to the morning air.

Others were flying works of art sporting almost ludicrous designs and accent flares, like light shows that played upon the bellies of the flight balloons, or billowing steam from their top-of-the-line engines that had been enchanted to change color with each puff. Such crafts were obviously meant more for entertainment and less for travel.

Within only a few minutes, almost twenty airships filled the skies over Ponyville, each making its way to a specially cleared field just on the outskirts of town. 

Ponies watched in awe and fascination. Some even sprinted after or glided along with the crafts, unable to tear themselves away from the sight of so many airships flying in formation from the distance ports of Canterlot.

These were in no way public transportation; everypony could easily see that. They were all stamped in some way by a coat of arms or family seal, denoting just who these flashy leviathans belonged to.

The nobles of Canterlot had arrived.


~~***~~


Rainbow floated back down to the ground, having watched the whole procession from the tree canopy as it passed by overhead.

“Okay, I hate to admit it, but that was kinda awesome,” she admitted begrudgingly. “I’ve never seen so many airships at once before.”

“Neither have I,” Bumblebee mumbled, but her eyes weren’t on the sky like Rainbow’s were. They were turned apprehensively towards Roseluck, who was frowning.

“They certainly are being flashy this year,” Roseluck commented, her voice oddly detached. “I guess they feel like making a statement.”

“What kind of a statement?” Rainbow asked, snorting. “That they have more bits than they know what to do with?”

Despite her frown, the corner of Roseluck’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “Something like that. But I think it just gave me an idea.”

Rainbow gave Roseluck an even more curious look now, crooking one eyebrow inquisitively. “Yeah? What do you have in mind?”

Roseluck smiled – or rather, she smirked. “My own kind of statement.”


~~***~~


All across Ponyville, the Summer Sun Celebration was getting underway. It was as if a starter pistol had fired, and suddenly every living soul for miles around was in a race.

The streets filled up with visitors and locals alike, and every so often the sheer volume of ponies increased as yet another train came rumbling into the woefully inadequate town station.

Yet, instead of flocking to the vendors and attractions, the majority of the masses were making a beeline for the shaded, slightly mysterious changeling district. 

There were a great number of reasons to go, true – as varied as the ponies visiting. Some were drawn by the wonder of the alien changelings themselves. Others, to see the almost magical realm they’d constructed within the city limits.

But mostly, the masses arrived due in large part to one thing in particular. Even the haughty nobles made the journey on personal chariots pulled by pegasi, rather than make the walk through the dirty streets themselves.

The opening ceremonies were about to begin, and nopony in their right mind would dare miss it for the world.

Most of the changelings tried their best to streamline the procession, pointing ponies in the right direction towards the main square itself. Through their efforts, hardly anypony got lost navigating the narrow, winding streets lined with brightly glowing light bulbs to fight off the pre-morning gloom – even the gawkers, who seemed far too distracted to pay much attention to where they were going at all.

But even with so much to see and so much to take in, lots of ponies were talking amongst themselves, speculating on what was about to happen.

“I wonder if they’re going to be doing anything special today…”

“I heard all the princesses are going to be here this year…”

“Well, I heard they have a queen, and that she’ll be here, too…”

“Why do we have to go here? These changelings are kind of scary…”

Nevertheless, the congregation of ponies soon arrived at their destination; the central square of the district, everypony all parts apprehensive and curious.

A set of stands wreathed in creeping vines laden with multicolored flowers of all hues lined the square in a gigantic, swooped semi-circle, connected in the middle by a raised balcony that stuck up in the air like the crest of a tiara. The balcony was set with only five high-backed seats – the center-most golden throne being the tallest, like the highest spoke of a crown.

Glowing, multi-colored light bulbs burned in their natural lamp posts, filling the area with warm, reassuring light.

Ponies hastened to claim seats, all the while throwing curious glances towards the gigantic tent looming directly in the middle of the square, and between both sets of tiered seats. Intrigued whispers and murmurs ran up and down the square, and plenty of pairs of eyes couldn’t help glancing repeatedly at that tall, bland tent, minds alive with possibilities.

At the same time, the nobility of Canterlot disembarked their shining chariots at last in order to claim their seats around the foot of the grander balcony.

Bullion was one such noble. He watched from his acceptably cushy seat, eyes rolling over the gathering masses. He noticed the many ponies of all classes and tribes hastening to find the best seats before they were taken.

But as he looked around, he also noticed just how many of them were wearing something around their necks like a necklace.

Here and there, speckled throughout the crowd, were individuals wearing what looked like an iridescent green, bookmark-shaped badge. Most hung from the leathery, chitinous necks of unmasked changelings, who seemed to be largely trying to stay out of the way of the organizing crowds. But not all, he noticed.

Quite a few mingled with the crowds, some apparently entertaining the questions of some ponies who just couldn’t help themselves. Several, he noticed, even wore disguises, making their only tell the badge hanging in clear sight from their necks.

These groups were small, but one pony after another was indulging in their curiosity, and conversation between the two groups was spreading like wildfire.

Bullion started to frown, but he instead forced his expression to smooth out, then adopt a well-honed friendly smile, his gaze drifting off to nothing in particular. All in due time…

He positioned himself better, steepling his hooves together on the armrests of his seat, and prepared for the show.


~~***~~


Applejack watched the growing crowd with even faster growing apprehension. She stood inside the shadow of a natural balcony on the building behind the stands, but she still had a perfect view of every single pony as they filed into the square.

There were a lot more than she’d ever thought to brace herself for. Space in the square was quickly filling up, and more just kept coming without an end in sight.

“Calm down, Applejack,” Twilight said beside her. That was the point where Applejack realized she was hyperventilating.

“Ah’m tryin’, Twi’,” the changeling said, her wings buzzing nervously. “But it ain’t really that easy.”

Twilight gave her friend a bracing smile and patted her shoulder. “Everything will turn out great, AJ. You’ll see.”

But Applejack hardly looked convinced, and Twilight had a very good idea why. “Somethin’s goin’ on, Twi’,” she muttered, frowning deeply. “Somethin’ spooked Celestia, and Ah get the feelin’ it’s got somethin’ ta do with all the rest of them changeling queens.”

She looked up towards Twilight, a very troubled look on her face. “Are we doin’ the right thing, just lettin’ this go on? If Queen Chrysalis is plottin’ somethin’…”

“We won’t let that happen,” Twilight interrupted firmly. “Of course, it’d take more than just some threat to put down my friend Applejack, won’t it?”

Applejack blinked, then huffed. “’Course it will.”

Twilight smiled at that. “See? If Queen Chrysalis wants to start something, she’ll have to come to you to do it. And we’ll never let that happen.”

“Of course not!”

Both mares turned in surprise, looking over their shoulders just as the door behind them creaked open.

But it was the one that’d spoken that really took them aback.

“Rainbow!” Applejack gasped aloud, staring wide eyed at her. “What in tarnation… what’re ya wearin’?”

Rainbow Dash flashed a cocky smile, flaring her wings as she struck a pose. But what really took everyone aback was what she was wearing.

Across her breast and back and enclosing her head was the dark, deep blue armor plating of a changeling captain.

It looked so alien on her; like in the way it slicked back her fringe, save for a single lock that poked out of the vacant horn socket, or the dark blue breastplate strapped to her front, contrasting against the brighter cyan of her coat.

“Pretty awesome, huh,” Rainbow gloated, striking a midair pose this time.

“Why are you wearing that, Rainbow?” Twilight asked, equal parts perplexed, annoyed and anxious. “Where did you even get that?”

“She got it from me,” said another voice, drawing both mares’ attention away from the armor-clad Rainbow.

Roseluck strode into the room wearing a satisfied smirk on her face, looking about as smug as a pony could get.

“Rose? This was yer idea?” Applejack asked, astonished.

“Yes,” she responded. “Princess Celestia’s orders were rather vague. She never said your honor guard had to be comprised of changelings only.”

“Sooo,” Rainbow said teasingly, “you’re looking at your bodyguard for the day! It’s okay to hold your applause; I get you’re pretty impressed. Happens all the time.”

“And yer okay with this?” Applejack asked, looking Rainbow over carefully.

The pegasus laughed – actually laughed out loud once, still smiling like a fool. “Okay? This is totally awesome! I mean, changelings don’t wear as much armor as I thought, but it’s still pretty cool. I could fly around all day in this; I barely even feel it at all!”

“And I figured that Rainbow would be accompanying you all day anyway, so it all works out,” Roseluck added, smiling with satisfaction. “Though, could you please try to take care of that armor, Rainbow? It’s kind of an antique.”

Applejack gave Roseluck a curious look, but the mare’s smile was like a mask, keeping whatever she didn’t want shown in check.

“The rest of your honor guard will be meeting you as you head out,” Roseluck added.

“Which will be any minute,” Twilight said, turning to look out over the balcony.

No sooner did she say that than did a voice bellow out over the entire square, instantly hushing the gathered masses with its sheer volume first and message second.

“Ladies and gentlecolts! Colts and fillies from across all of Equestria! It is my pleasure to welcome you all to the Summer Sun Celebration!”

There was no way that voice hadn’t been augmented in some way. It was simply too loud. Despite the speaker not even being visible, his voice filled the air seemingly from every direction so that not a single pony, regardless of their position, could miss a word of it.

The entire crowd erupted in cheers and stamping hooves, drowning out all other sounds by a wide margin with a cacophonous boom.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Twilight said, bracing herself with a few steadying breaths. “Alright, let’s do this, Applejack.”

Applejack nodded, her shoulders tense, and turned along with her. “Alright… let’s get to it,” she said grimly.

Twilight smiled, but while she managed to step forward with a little spring in her step, Applejack hesitated once more.

At least, until she noticed a certain, armor clad pegasus smiling at her. “You ready for this, cowgirl?”

Applejack paused, then offered a weak smile. “Not really. But Ah ain’t gonna let a couple o’ fancy talkin’ posh ponies get me rattlin’ in my horseshoes that easy.”

Rainbow smiled at that. Not a smirk, or a cocky grin, but a smile. “There’s the Applejack I know. Now, let’s get out there and show them what you can do.”

Applejack returned the smile, then turned to follow Rainbow out the door. Only, the armored pegasus paused in the doorway, hesitating as something occurred to her at the last second.

“Oh, almost forgot… Happy Birthday, Applejack.”

The changeling’s eyes grew wide in surprise, her heart thumping in her chest. The completely unexpected remark totally derailed anything she might’ve had to say to that, much to the enjoyment of Rainbow.

RD chuckled a bit under her breath, her smile becoming bemused. “You should see the look on your face!”

She then made a face – a terrible one, at that. She crossed her eyes and lolled her tongue out of one corner of her mouth, adopting a stupefied expression of… well, stupidity.

Applejack couldn’t help herself. She burst out into uncontrollable chuckles – the best she could manage while keeping her voice down as low as possible.

“Now cut that out,” Applejack laughed, smacking Rainbow in the shoulder playfully.

“Alright, alright,” Rainbow chortled. “Oh, and one last thing. For real this time”

Applejack gave her a curious look, guarded this time. Yet, as it turned out, not nearly guarded enough.

Rainbow smiled as she turned to lead the way, refusing to meet Applejack’s eye. “You look nice. You know… in case anypony hasn’t told you yet, which they probably have, but you know… Uh… you look nice.”

Applejack blinked, nonplussed. Then, she returned the smile. “Uh… thanks, sugarcube. You, too.”

And with that, they both left the room, side by side, smiling the whole way, just as the trumpets started blasting through the morning air, though Applejack barely noticed at all.


~~***~~


Outside, the air was filled with the voices of the countless gathered spectators as they cheered and whistled and stamped their hooves in excitement.

Upon the royal’s balcony, a stallion clad in a tuxedo waved over the gathered crowds, drinking in their enthusiasm and letting them work themselves nearly into a frenzy before opening his mouth again.

“Now,” he bellowed, his voice ringing far louder than naturally was feasible, “It’s time to introduce our guests of honor!”

He waved a hoof, stepping to one side to motion towards one end of square and immediately drawing every eye in the same direction. “Ladies and Gentlecolts! Coming to us all the way from the Crystal Empire, all rise for the new kingdom’s regent; Princess Mi Amore Cadenza!”

That was when everypony noticed the procession walking down one of the side streets amid a fanfare of trumpets and horns, glittering and sparkling like walking ice sculptures.

Stallions clad from head to hoof in dull lavender armor that glimmered like cut gemstones marched precisely down the avenue, eyes forward and faces stony. The front-most guard carried with him a large, flowing Crystal Empire banner that flapped in the wind, glimmering as if woven from crystal filaments. The two behind him held raised halberds, their partially translucent diamond blades gleaming wickedly.

And at the back of the five-pony procession came a chariot that looked like it’d been cut from a single piece of amethyst the size of a cart.

That was where the first princess to arrive was; dressed in a regal dress, her mane done up in a complicated, gem-encrusted weave too complicated for the average set of hooves.

Princess Cadance waved at the cheering masses, beaming brightly as she looked around in an effort to at least try to meet the adoration she was receiving from all sides as her chariot glided into the square without so much as a rattle or squeak.

Her procession did a full revolution of the tent in the center of the square, giving everypony a chance to see the Crystal Empire’s regent. Then, on the second come-around, Cadance spread her wings and swiftly floated up to the royal’s balcony, and approached a thrown crafted from radiant crystal.

Cadance continued to wave eagerly while her honor guard took their positions on either side of her throne. No one could’ve mistaken Shining Armor – not after his rather dramatic wedding, not by a long shot. Even the sight of him fully clad in his purple and gold captain’s armor barely did anything to conceal his identity.

Shining took his place at his wife’s right side, looked as stalwart and disciplined as any of the Guard could hope to achieve, breaking his façade only long enough to nuzzle Cadance when she came to claim her seat and whispering a soft-spoken word of encouragement.

Across from him stood a golden pegasus with a wild blue mane, who wore the more familiar golden armaments of the Royal Guard, who for some reason kept catching wary glances from his superior every time he made so much as the slightest move. And above all else, he made absolutely, positively sure he never, ever so much as glanced in the general direction of the purple throne standing two thrones down, not while under the Guard Captain’s close scrutiny.

Once Cadance actually had taken her seat, the caller was shouting out again, drawing everyone’s attention for a second time.

“Now, I give you – straight from this fine city itself! The personal protégé of our glorious Princess of the Sun herself! All rise for the newly crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle!”

The crowd erupted into fresh cheers and applause – loudest in particular from the locals, who seemed bound and determined to scream themselves hoarse in approval of their favorite librarian.

Like Cadance, Twilight emerged from one of the side streets, along with her own procession.

Only, hers consisted of snowy white unicorn mares with long, flowing golden manes, each carrying a banner bearing the lavender alicorn’s cutie mark and singing praises – just as they’d done the day of her coronation.

But, unlike Cadance, Twilight was not taken to her destination on board a chariot. In fact, she wasn’t having anypony drive her anywhere in any capacity.

Twilight herself cantered down the avenue, striding upon a richly ornate crimson rug that seemed to be unrolling itself ahead of the procession.

She was wearing a simple yet extravagant dress made from rich violets, striking pinks and deep indigoes, while her crown and matching gilded shoes looked like they’d been polished to mirror finishes.

Twilight managed a few waves to the audience, though every time she did she turned a tender shade of pink, her smile becoming almost goofy, and it only got worse the more she did it.

Like Cadance, Twilight paraded around the square once, then as she passed by the balcony, she wrapped her horn in magic.

The crowd oohed and awed as, in a dazzling flash of light and little crack, Twilight disappeared from ground level, only to materialize again right in front of her chair atop the balcony; a simple, high-backed purple and gold throne adorned with a spikey violet star on top.

She’d only barely sat down when her honor guard stepped forth and assumed their positions, like they’d been standing behind her seat the entire time.

Yet, the moment they saw who it was, most of the changelings fell silent.

There, on Twilight’s right side, stood Captain Steel Shod, looking somehow stoic and terrifying all at once. On Twilight’s other side stood one of her unicorn procession mares, who contrasted the grizzly old captain with a soft, almost melancholic smile and relaxed air.

While everypony cheered and stamped their hooves, more than a few changelings exchanged confused looks before glancing back up at the balcony with barely repressed worry.

And though they couldn’t see it, Twilight, too, threw a glance or two towards the captain, but let nothing show on her smiling face.

The caller gave the crowd a few moments to cheer and adore over Twilight – which was quickly turning the mare very red with embarrassment – before he raised his voice for a third time, and the crowd fell quiet in anticipation. Most of them knew what came next, and for some, this was the main attraction to the day.

“And now, hailing from this fine city herself; the leader of the changeling immigrants in Equestria, I give you Queen Applejack!”

This announcement was not met with quite as much enthusiasm as the other two. Most were too distracted with gawking to offer up much of a vocal response. But while most of the visitors only offered well-meaning applause, the locals more than filled the gap.

But truly, it was the changelings that made their voices known. They cheered loud and clear, both pounding their hooves and buzzing their wings in approval.

Applejack’s procession was not quite as grand as the ones before her. There was no trumpeting, no banner waving; only a parade of changelings walking down the main thoroughfare of the district.

They walked in two files, marching with precision and dignity across the bare earth. Only three individuals came adorned in armor; the front two, who wore hardened scowls to match even the grimmest of royal guards lead the way, heads held high, icy blue eyes pointed straight forward, while the third walked with decidedly less discipline near the back of the line. Behind them came three unadorned drones, led by an absolutely exuberant Agave, spreading flower pedals all along the path they walked.

Or, particularly, the path their leader walked.

Applejack strode behind the others, giving the best smile she could manage. But on the inside, she was feeling very jittery indeed, what with every pair of eyes in Ponyville being fixed on her.

Compared to the princesses that’d come before her, Applejack was also surprisingly unadorned. In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything special at all – much to the dismay of Rarity, who’d taken considerable persuading that anything Applejack wore likely wouldn’t survive her first transformation.

But that was not to say the young queen was going in completely plain. Her mane and tail had been carefully groomed, then braided into two long, amber cords tied with bands adorned with a big red apple on either side. Her amber carapace had been polished to a lustrous gleam that matched even the shiniest of metal surfaces. That had felt very odd when it was getting done, leaving Applejack with decidedly mixed feelings about it.

She wore her silvery badge around her neck – not on a simple length of string or twine, but on a shiny length of silver. That was the sole flashy thing she wore – flashier than her cleaned and polished crown. If she was going to be forced to wear the thing, she was going to wear it well. At least, that had been Rarity’s argument, though the poor mare had been desperately trying to latch onto anything fashionable to do for the changeling, and Applejack had let her have that, at least.

At one side of Applejack was Roseluck and Bumblebee – the latter of whom was managing a brave, if not crooked smile and glancing around almost fearfully. And at Applejack’s other side was Rainbow Dash, adorned in her eye-catching, dark blue changeling captain armor.

That got a lot of attention. Guards up and down the square tensed, thinking at first glance that they’d just caught a changeling without her residency badge, but ultimately held back. Most of them were locals, and being a Ponyville local meant that, odds were, you knew who Rainbow Dash was. But that only compounded their confusion, as it did most of the observing ponies, who couldn’t help but ask one question; why was that pegasus clad in changeling armor?

Yet, despite the weird looks, the brash pegasus hardly seemed to bat an eyelash. In fact, she almost flaunted it; she strutted and very nearly pranced, chin held high with a confident smirk on her face. She at least maintained enough self-control to remain on the ground – and not strike a pose or two for the fixated crowd. But Applejack could see that she was starting to have a very difficult time fighting back her mirth. 

Rainbow was aware of one group of eyes on her, however; the nobles, who seemed to be staring at her with wide eyes and even a slack jaw or two, much to Rainbow’s enjoyment.

“Hey Rose?” she said in a private aside.

Roseluck didn’t look around and continued to wave to the crowds. “Yes, Rainbow?”

“Best. Idea. Ever.”

Even Applejack had to fight back a chuckle or two at that. At the very least, now her smile was much more authentic.

After completing their circuit like the princesses, Applejack’s group gathered together at the foot of the royal balcony.

Then, in a united effort, all of the drones of her team ignited their horns, and in a brilliant flash of swirling emerald flames that shot nearly five feet into the air, they sank into a ring of fire nearly twelve feet wide, disappearing entirely – much to the amazement and mild alarm of the crowd.

For nearly two seconds, Applejack and her group disappeared from sight. Then, in a bright gout of fire, Applejack, Rainbow, Bumblebee and Roseluck all appeared upon the balcony right in front of her designated seat; a jet black, obsidian frame wrapped in thick, leafy vines lined with gigantic tiger lilies.

The moment she reappeared, Rainbow shivered, ruffling her feathers. “Guh… still hate the way that feels,” she muttered to herself in discomfort.

The crowd gasped dramatically at the group’s fiery display, then immediately afterwards the air was filled with the sounds of enthusiastically stamping hooves and cheering voices; this time, not just from the Ponyvillian crowd.

Applejack, taken aback by the unexpected enthusiasm, managed to wave a bit more towards the suddenly applauding audience, her face a little sheepish, her smile humble. Yet, the crowd kept applauding and cheering, louder than before.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” she admitted to herself.

Rainbow and Roseluck exchanged a bemused look, but said nothing.

“I’d better find my seat,” Roseluck said quietly. “Come on Bumblebee.” Then, she turned to Applejack with a warm smile. “You’re doing great, Applejack. We’ll speak again after the opening ceremonies.”

Applejack nodded, and then watched as the two flew off, bound for one of the unclaimed seats on the tier below.

The young queen watched them go, but as she turned her head, she couldn’t help but notice several of the nobles looking her way.

Or, particularly, straight at Rainbow, who was smugly ignoring them.

Applejack couldn’t help but admire the pegasus’ guts. To her, all of this must’ve been some big game. She had so many ponies staring at her like she’d shaved her fur off, and yet she just kept her nose up, supremely confident and unafraid in the slightest, and the more attention she got, the bigger her smirk became.

Applejack was so focused on Rainbow that she barely even noticed the second of her honor guard take his place opposite Rainbow without a word. The changeling was clad similarly to Rainbow in dark blue armor, only he was infinitely more composed than the brash mare as he stood at attention, eyes forward, face set in a resolute scowl.

With the crowd’s cheering still in her ears, Applejack took her seat, if rather awkwardly. The throne – for that was the only way to describe it – was a lot grander than she personally felt was called for.

As she sat down, the young changeling caught sight of her neighbor; Princess Cadance, who was giving her a friendly smile. “Well, you certainly seem to be doing well, Applejack,” she said in good humor.

Applejack gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. “Same ta you, Yer Highness,” she said. “It certainly ain’t as hectic as the last time we saw each other.”

Cadance giggled a little, looking rather sheepish herself. “Please, Applejack; Cadance is fine. I think we’ve known each other long enough by now to be past that.”

Applejack chuckled under her breath, her grin becoming more meaningful. “Ah suppose so.”

Cadance’s smile grew. At least, for a moment. The humor seemed to fade somewhat after a second of thought, her eyes sobering. “Applejack, after all of this, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if–”

She never got the chance to finish her sentence. All of a sudden the caller was raising his bellowing voice again, and the incredible volume of it easily drowned out the last few words Cadance had to say.

“And now, ladies and gentlecolts! All rise for the royal pony sisters; Princess Luna and Princess Celestia!”

His request was almost entirely unneeded. Every stallion and mare in the square was already on their hooves to begin with, and upon the caller’s announcement, their voices rose in kind to a deafening cry that rang out across the trees and rooftops.

Applejack glanced towards them, then back to Cadance searchingly. But over the din being raised by the crowd, conversation was a virtual impossibility without being right up against each other, and there was a good foot or so between the two of them.

Cadance gave the changeling queen a reassuring smile – whatever she had to say could wait – and then she turned away.

A split second later, several things happened at once.

As if attached to dozens of ropes, the canopy overhead drew apart like a curtain, branches withdrawing and curling back to strip bare the heavens above.

The twilit sky still shone blue and purple as night gave way to day. And far away, cradled by the horizon, the moon was shedding its last rays of pale light as it sunk lower and lower until only the edge remained.

It was precisely at that moment that it happened.

At the absolute verge of disappearing entirely, the last shaft of moonlight shined out across the sky, racing across the heavens like a silver arrow.

A silver arrow that was, perplexingly, being drawn by a pair of bat-winged ponies.

As the object came into view, everypony watched in awe as the shining moonlight faded away. Like a veil being ripped away, the white light revealed a dark, ominous chariot that screamed across the sky, and like a wake, the stars winked out behind it.

Within moments, the flying carriage came to a stop over Ponyville, washing the treetops with a gusty tailwind.

Everypony watched, transfixed, as a shadow broke away from the chariot and dropped towards the ground. It was only when she was halfway down that the regal, intimidating form of Princess Luna even became clearly defined.

She alighted upon the balcony with barely a sound, wings held high and wide, her flowing ethereal mane rippling in the cool morning air as she raised her head regally and with unparalleled pride and dignity.

The crowd was struck silent for a few moments… and then everyone, changelings and ponies alike, burst into hearty applause.

The sudden outcry of approval seemed to take Luna aback for a moment. She hesitated, freezing in place for a heartbeat, then she raised a hoof to wave back , offering a slight smile.

Then, she turned and took her seat upon the second tallest throne; a midnight blue and black, high-backed chair flanked by two rather stern-looking bat-winged ponies.

Applejack also couldn’t help but noticed the rather conspicuous, midnight blue mug stamped with Luna’s cutie mark that had been placed on one arm of her throne. Particularly, Applejack noticed the strong scent of coffee wafting on the breeze from it.

“Good morning to you, Cadenza, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack,” Luna greeted in a rather business-like tone. Yet, she still managed a greeting smile as she nodded to each royal in turn. “I hope you all had a good night.”

For some reason, when she said that, her eyes lingered on Applejack, for reasons that evaded the apple farmer. It wasn’t even a particularly knowing or amused look, either. It was merely… thoughtful.

“Well, perhaps not for you, Twilight,” Luna amended, and this time she fixed the lavender alicorn with a knowing look indeed. “I would suggest trying to get more sleep every once in a while, but I fear it would be a lost cause at this point.”

Twilight laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Leave it to the Princess of the Night to pick up on all-nighters. “Heh, heh… I have an excuse, though. Well… most of the time.”

“I’m sure you do,” Luna responded, but her voice wasn’t as stern as it could’ve been. With that said, she lowered herself into her chair, then levitated that steaming mug to her lips to take a long, nearly silent sip of the blackest coffee bits could buy.

She was only halfway through when something caught the attention of everypony present, drawing their eyes skyward once more.

And with a bright, resplendent burst of light, the sun emerged from the horizon. It rose with considerable speed, pulling itself almost entirely into the sky within only a few seconds, conquering the shadows and gloomy places across the land, replacing it instead with warm, comforting sunlight.

Barely anypony saw the chariot coming as it raced across the sky, not until it was nearly over the changeling district.

When it was spotted, however, the grand gold and alabaster vehicle was already slowing, the two snow-white armored pegasi at its lead slowing to a hover.

Then, like a small drop of sunlight itself, something bright and radiant hopped off the edge of the chariot and descended towards the ground. Halfway down, the light began to recede, and yet the one it’d sheathed somehow didn’t lose an ounce of resplendence. Her snow-white coat seemed just as blinding and bright, her golden regalia almost impossible to look directly at, her otherworldly mane almost too bright to make out.

Princess Celestia gently floated down to ground level, her radiance not so much fading away as it did diminish, until she stood atop the royal balcony. She stood taller than life and filled to the brim with figurative warmth and light that seemed to literally warm the air around her.

And the crowd went wild.

They jumped up, waving their hooves and stamping the ground, cheering and whistling as loud as they could, even to the point of bringing a slightly embarrassed look to The Princess of the Sun’s countenance.

While she continued to wave, Applejack noticed two royal guards step up to flank either side of her regal seat. The sight of them, more-so than any other set of honor guards, returned the unsettling questions to Applejack’s mind, bringing tension to her shoulders once more.

Before she could mull it over any further, however, Princess Celestia’s voice was filling her ears, pulling her away from any further musings.

“My faithful subjects, it is good to see you all today,” she said, smiling warmly. “And I thank you all for coming.”

She looked around, turning to each bright and awestruck face with a proud smile, like a mother beholding her children in their hour of triumph.

“Even in the face of so much change, I have seen so many acts of kindness, of generosity and forgiveness. I have seen so many demonstrations of redemption and bravery in these past seven months – more-so than any other time in our history. An entire nation, embracing what was once thought to be a dire enemy, and demonstrating to yourselves and everypony around you why you are all so strong; in heart, in mind, and in many ways I cannot express in the time allotted.”

The crowd fell silent as they listened. Even some of the nobles did not seem to be devoting more than token interest to the monarch’s words.

Applejack herself watched Princess Celestia, feeling all parts humbled, awed, and even a little envious. She can say such nice things without any trouble at all. She makes it look so easy…

“But,” Celestia said, her smile slipping somewhat, “there have been many trials, and there will continue to be many more on the horizon. This triumph we see here today was not the direct result of a single pony, or single changeling, or even a single act. It has been many of these things, working together and building off of each other. What we see here today – changelings and ponies, standing side by side – is the result of all of your hard work.” 

Celestia looked around once more, smiling just as brightly as always. “And I know it will take all of us to maintain our newfound harmony, and keep it strong and safe from who would do it harm.”


~~***~~


On the other side of Ponyville, far away from the changeling district, a single unicorn was making his way across a field littered with anchors and mooring posts.

He wore a simple, dull gray cap lopsided on his head, one ear poking out from under it while the other was completely submerged underneath the floppy thing and his scraggly green mane.

He yawned widely, only halfheartedly trying to stifle it behind one hoof. “Ugh… why do I have to be up this early…? The sun’s barely even up. Stupid rich ponies and their toys…”

He glanced up high over his head – towards the floating underbellies of the twenty-some airships floating nearly fifty feet over his head, looking like an absurdly gigantic cluster of parade balloons.

Aside from the creaking of their hulls and the thick ropes tying them down, they hung silent and largely motionless, not counting a slight sway from the breeze. Their crews were largely missing, undoubtedly gone off to do something or other. Why are these things even here? What’s so special about today, huh? Must be ‘pick on Double Check day’ or something… Ugh, my brother wouldn’t have such bad luck…

He continued to grumble to himself, all the while pausing every couple of feet to stare up at the top of the mooring posts; towards the assigned name and number, double-checked to make sure there was a length of rope attached to it, marked it off on a clipboard floating beside him, and moved on.

Yeah, good old Check. He always was mom’s favorite with that stupid banking job of his. Got that fancy education in Canterlot and everything. Let’s see… Bullion, ID five-six-blah-blah… yep, present and accounted for, of course… Anyway, what was I saying…?

Double Check was just turning towards the next set of moorings when something odd caught his attention.

He paused, looking around curiously. And there it was again; a groaning, tearing sound.

He blinked, confused, then took a few steps forward. “Somepony there?” he ventured gruffly.

But no one responded in anything more than a complaining creaking sound.

Double Check advanced a few more steps, glanced around… and spotted the source.

One of the thick, braided ropes was fraying. He watched in astonishment was it unwound before his eyes, strand after strand snapping under the tension as, slowly but surely, it ripped itself apart.

Double Check cursed, dropping his clipboard as he flung a telekinetic grip onto the breaking line. But it was already much too late.

With a loud snapping sound, the rope ripped itself in half. The sheer tension in the line sent it whipping back in on itself with horrific speeds, narrowly missing the stunned stallion by inches.

The mooring post, however, was not so lucky. It took the brunt of the impact, the rope biting deep into the wooden post, nearly slashing it in half.

But that was only the beginning, as Double Check found out when he peered up from underneath his covering hooves.

An entire, potbellied airship was drifting away on the wind, smashing its neighbor aside like a bowling ball battering a pin. Double Check heard a loud splintering sound, and on instinct he rolled away, just as a gigantic golden figurehead plowed into the ground exactly where he’d been lying.

And then, overhead, the now prow-less behemoth started chugging steam with a loud, mechanical whine, the propeller blades whirring to life.

Double Check stared upwards, eyes growing very, very wide with very real dread. 

Well… that’s not good.


~~***~~


Rainbow yawned to herself, stifling it behind one hoof. She’d already lost track of Celestia’s grand speech, and was now just glancing around the stands aimlessly, trying not to feel stir-crazy.

She knew her cue would be coming up sooner or later – a Rainbooming legend like her had something of a reputation to live up to, you know – but until then, she was stuck there, standing… not doing much in particular.

It was only because she wasn’t really paying attention to the speech being given by the guest of honor that she heard it; a faint, barely audible “Psst” behind her.

Rainbow blinked, then glanced behind her curiously.

There wasn’t much directly behind the thrones themselves; just a short, two or three inch wide space with an unadorned wall and a steep drop-off to the ground below.

Well, the wall was mostly unadorned, if one didn’t count the small, blue-maned head sticking up just far enough to peek over the ledge. And she was looking straight at Rainbow with very anxious eyes. “Rainbow, I need to talk to you.”

“Agave?” Rainbow hissed, completely taken off guard. “What’re you doing here?”

Agave glanced around quickly, and Rainbow couldn’t help but notice how wide her eyes were or how limp her ears had become. And… was she shaking?

“Listen, we don’t have much time,” the little changeling whispered. “You have to get everypony out of here! Now!”

Rainbow’s heart did an odd sort of flip in her chest, shooting first to her throat, then right down into the pits of her gut as a chill ran over her. “O-Okay, squirt, very funny,” she chided, laughing nervously, but Agave was already furiously shaking her head.

“No, you don’t understand! They’re coming – they’ll be here any minute! You need to –”

“Rainbow, what in tarnation are ya lookin’ at?”

Rainbow jumped, then turned her head around the other way. She noticed how Applejack was giving her a look, one eyebrow raised. But the moment she saw the look on Rainbow’s face, the changeling queen’s turned serious.

“Rainbow? What’s goin’ on?” Applejack asked, concerned now as she twisted in her chair to look over one shoulder.

But as she did so, she ended up putting one of her forelegs down on the armrest itself. And it was none-too pleased with that.

A jolt ran up Applejack’s leg, as if every bone within had just been electrocuted. Before she could stop herself, Applejack flinched away, hissing in pain as she rang out her hoof.

“Dagnabit, not now,” she growled under her breath.

And Agave just stared at her. There was no bubbly gleam in her eyes or face. No – the look the she now fixed Applejack with was one of building, dawning terror.

“A-Applejack… Applejack, you have listen to me; you need to get away from…”

But whatever Agave had been about to say, she suddenly seemed to lose the will to say it. For at that moment, her eyes grew wider still, and the color drained from her face.

Then, for some reason, she slowly turned her head – away from Rainbow and Applejack, away from all the royals in fact, and over to some spot far to her left.

And if she’d looked scared before, she now seemed completely terrified. Whatever she’d seen, it seemed to strike her in her deepest, darkest phobia.

“I-I-I have to go,” she squeaked, and before either Applejack or Rainbow had any time to react, she vanished from sight entirely.

“Hey! Hey, Agave!” Rainbow hissed, trying very hard not to shout. But now several nobles were giving her very reproachful looks.

Including a steel silver set of eyes that had suddenly fixated on her, and her alone.


~~***~~


“No, no, no!” Double Check lamented, running as fast as he could down the street.

But it was hopeless. The airship was not only gaining speed, it was climbing, too. Some part of his brain was telling him that this wasn’t right; that the machinery on board an airship shouldn’t break like this. There was too much direction, too much control.

To turn, level out, then begin to ascend… there was no doubt about it; somepony was stealing the airship! That had to be the only answer to what was going on, but that only made things somehow worse, because he knew who they’d blame.

I’m never going to hear the end of this at the Fall Feast, Double Check whined internally. Mom is never going to let me live this down…

The bulky, lumbering airship was roaring over Ponyville now, picking up speed as it moved with impunity over the empty streets with absolutely nothing to stop it.

Double Check was just starting to lose hope and considering whether he could hide at home and pretend he was never at the crime scene to begin with when he rounded one last corner and about plowed into a team of royal guards on patrol.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” one of them complained, sidestepping to allow the stallion to pass.

But instead of shooting on by, the out of breath unicorn stopped dead in his tracks, wheezing fitfully as he tried to get words out. “Stole… ship… away… trouble…”

“What?” One of the guards asked – a pegasus. “Just take a deep breath.”

That was when a shadow blotted out the sun overhead.

Both guards looked up in surprise, just as the underbelly of an airship sailed right over their heads, scattering a flock of birds mid-flight.

Double Check pointed a hoof at it desperately. “S… St… Stolen,” he wheezed.

Immediately both guards exchanged a look. “Go get some reinforcements,” the pegasus ordered, then his wings flashed open.

A split second later, he was in the air, racing towards the rogue airship.

“Get a move on, private!” he bellowed over his shoulder. “That thing’s heading straight for the princesses!”


~~***~~


Applejack and Rainbow continued to give each other baffled looks. Neither one was entirely sure what to make of Agave’s behavior, but both were certain that she’d been trying to tell them something; something very important.

“What was that all about?” Rainbow hissed to her. “Who’s ‘they’?”

But Applejack, on the other hoof, had a pretty good idea who ‘they’ were. And the notion was filling her with dread.

You have made some very, very powerful enemies, Applejack…

“Applejack? Is something wrong?”

The changeling jumped, then turned her head to one side. She suddenly remembered that not only was she not alone, she was currently near the center of attention.

Cadance was looking at her with obvious worry. And by now even Princess Luna was glancing her way.

But for a moment, Applejack floundered. What if she was wrong? How could she even be right? But the pieces were there. Celestia’s request for bodyguards, the precaution taken with the residency badges, and now, Agave’s warning.

But what had she been trying to tell Applejack? What had spooked her so badly? And… how did she even know?

“Applejack?” Cadance asked, sounding concerned now.

Applejack licked her lips, heart thundering in her chest, before she opened her mouth.

Only for a shadow to fall over her.

Instinctively she tilted her head back and looked up, just as the prow-less bow of an airship careened into view overhead.


~~***~~


The royal guard pegasus huffed hard, working every muscle in his wings in his pursuit of the out of control aircraft.

He was almost on level with it now, but every inch gained was costing him. By that point, he was almost completely out of breath, his muscles burning from the exertion.

But he was almost there now. Just a little closer…

And then, without warning, a bright flash of light caught his eye.

He focused his gaze on the source, just in time to see every single support rope tying the hull to the flying bladder caught fire. Emerald fire.

The stallion was too far away to do anything. He couldn’t even see if anyone was on the deck or not.

All he could do was watch as the hungry corrosive flames ate through the support lines. One by one they snapped, one after the other succumbing to the flames until there was nothing left to tie the hull to the balloon at all.

And then… it simply fell, careening straight towards the unsuspecting crowds below.


~~***~~


Applejack saw it coming.

Rainbow saw it coming

Cadance saw it coming.

Even Princess Celestia paused, noticing the shadow just in time to look up, just as the airship came crashing down straight towards them all.

No one else looked up in time. No one ever saw the mass of wood and metal plummeting out of the sky like a bombshell. They never heard it – never thought to even look up, not with Celestia’s speech still underway.

But no one saw the explosion coming, not until the concussive blast wave was ripping through the square as the ship blew itself apart in a gigantic, catastrophic acidic green fireball that filled the sky with flames and smoldering debris.
	
> Chapter 5: The Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
The first meteors of burning wreckage were just manifesting in the sky when the panic set in.

Quick-thinking ponies started screaming just as the earsplitting boom of the explosion began to fade. Others instinctively ducked or threw themselves one way or another, but in the limited spacing in the stands, escape avenues were limited. And there were a lot of oncoming projectiles.

But they were not to be the bearers of the brunt of the fallout. The airship’s momentum ensured that the worse of the flaming, cascading balls of destruction rained down on one section of the square in particular.

And Applejack was dead center on what was sure to become ground zero.

But there was nothing she could do. Her natural instincts screamed at her to dive to the side; to try, somehow, to outmaneuver the deadly firestorm that was about to reduce everything around her to ash.

The sight of a head’s silhouette, however, held her in place. 

Rainbow stood motionless before her, eyes glued on the rapidly approaching swell of fire, her features turned almost completely black against the glare of the emerald fire. Her wings were just coming open, as if in slow motion, but they showed no signs of actually taking her weight. 

Applejack only witnessed that sight for one eternally long fraction of a second, but immediately she knew escape was not an option she would ever make for herself. She was not, however, going to sit around and do nothing.

The mangled, eviscerated remains of the hellishly burning airship bow – the largest chunk to survive the blast – seemed to hurtle straight towards them in slow motion, and yet so terrifyingly fast at the exact same time.


As it bore down on her in a maelstrom of shrapnel and hungry flames, Applejack instinctively sprang forward, intent on making the most of those last few seconds to fulfill a single desire; to save Rainbow Dash’s life, no matter how remote the odds of that happening were.

It was only a foot or so to Rainbow, but it was the longest foot Applejack had ever traveled before in her life. All the while the wreckage was getting closer, as if intent on beating her to her goal.

Applejack hit the pegasus full on the back, knocking her to the ground and pinning her there under a shield made by the apple farmer’s body. Applejack closed her eyes, braced, and waited…

… And waited…

Oh, she could hear the rushing sound of the fire as it swallowed her whole. But… no pain followed. Only a blisteringly hot gust of air hit her, and that was it. It was certainly searing like an oven, but definitely far from the lethal conflagration Applejack had been bracing for.

But what struck Applejack the most was the odd lack of crashes or explosive booms from the hailstorm of debris that should’ve demolished her and everything around her by now. Instead, there was only a very ominous, nerve-wracking stillness behind the terrific roar of the firestorm. 

And as quickly as it started, it was over. The emerald flicker of firelight stopped shining through Applejack’s tightly shut eyes, leaving everything very unsettlingly dark.

As the raging fire became nothing more than a persistent ringing in Applejack’s ears, she finally came to a rather perplexing conclusion; somehow, against all the odds, she was still alive, and completely – miraculously – unharmed. 

It was impossible; Applejack knew that. No amount of luck should have spared her. The simple fact of the matter was that she should be burned to a crisp or as flat as a pancake at that very moment, making each successful thump of her heart feel like a surreal daydream. Yet, thump it did; pounding with adrenaline, but it was there somehow.

The smell of acrid, burning smoke clung to her nostrils and the roof of her mouth, bringing forth several coughs from herself and the pony being pinned beneath her. That proved that she at least hadn’t just imagined the impending doom, but that only compounded the issue of how she was still alive in the first place.

But perhaps the most disturbing thing of all was the total silence that clawed at her ears. Nothing stirred at all. Nothing cried out, or fell over, or anything of the sort. The entire square had fallen completely dead quiet.

So it was with an overwhelming sense of confusion that Applejack finally cracked open one eye to peer at her surroundings warily.

The first thing she saw was the multitude of emerald sparks dancing through the smoggy air all around her. The entire square was filled with them, actually; they swirled like little green embers amid the cloud of smoke that’d descended upon the gathering, turning everything to a dreary twilight.

The second thing Applejack noticed were the many, many vacant seats lining the square. In fact, there was not a soul in sight at first glance; not one pony in the disconcertingly unharmed stands, or changeling on their usual perches in the trees.

And nowhere – not in the sky, not on the ground, or anywhere in between – was there a single scrap of wreckage. Not even the flight balloon hung overhead anymore. It was as if the airship had completely disintegrated from the force of the explosion.

Yet, flickering embers floated in the air, like the remains of some burnt up wad of paper. Something had been burned to ash, but for the life of her, Applejack couldn’t decipher what. And whenever one of the sparks of light drifted in front of her face, she could’ve sworn she could see something glinting within its tiny heart like some miniscule glass surface.

The more Applejack looked around, the more she started to feel like she’d been transported to some gloomier, lonely mirror image of the place she’d just been. It didn’t even feel real to look at.

While Applejack struggled to wrap her head around this new oddity, she noticed something flutter down from on high to come to rest just in front of her; a single, rectangular piece of charred paper, though it’s original shape had been all-but destroyed by the hungry flames.

It was the size of a post card, and one side even seemed to show some comical “Wish you were here” message over what might’ve been a tropical beach, if the flames hadn’t eaten through most of the image.

But it wasn’t the picture that caught Applejack’s attention, nor was it the thing that made her blood run as cold as ice. No, that was caused when the card tumbled over just before landing, revealing the curtly written message on the other side, just visible through the char.

To: Queen Applejack
From: The Royal Court

The message landed hardly a foot away from Applejack, sharp words face-up for her to stare at with welling dread as the true reality of what’d just happened struck her like a mallet, leaving her feeling almost concussed.

But it wasn’t alone.

To her horror, more postcards were falling from the sky; hundreds of them, each bearing the exact same message, even if the cards themselves bore different, rather disturbing messages on their reverse side. Get well cards, congratulations cards, even some rather alarming ‘thinking of you’ cards all rained down from the sky like some kind of sick confetti.

Applejack could only watch helplessly as the countless messages fell all across the square, and very likely beyond, thanks to the wind. Even if there was no one around to read them yet, there would soon be no doubt in anyone’s mind who this attack was aimed at.

Applejack could almost feel phantom sets of eyes turning on her, judging, unforgiving. She did her best to push such irrational thoughts away – now was not the time to be lingering over such things – but it was a very hard thing to do.

And it likely would’ve continued to be a difficult endeavor, right up until a voice snapped her out of it.

“Uh… you can get off me now. You’re getting heavy.”

Applejack blinked, then turned her gaze downward, towards the very indignant look Rainbow was shooting her.

“Oh, er… right,” Applejack mumbled, then stiffly clambered upright. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Rainbow just grunted dismissively as she got up, though she didn’t quite meet Applejack’s eye. Instead, she looked out over the motionless square and the shower of cards sprinkling the ground, her expression unusually grave. She swept her eyes from one corner to the other, her frown growing even deeper the longer she went without seeing a single pony or changeling.

“Where did everypony go? What the hay happened?” she mumbled to herself, her wings rustling stressfully.

Applejack was just about to speak up again when another voice cut her off.

“Applejack!”

The apple farmer got her head halfway around before the visible world turned completely pink. The next thing she knew, she was knocked bodily to the ground by a poofy-maned missile.

Pinkie Pie stood over her, sapphire eyes huge with worry – and then alarm. “Are you alright, Applejack? There was all that fire and a really, really big BOOM” – she lurched into the air, hooves spreading wide to better illustrate how big the explosion was before landing exactly where she’d been before, practically eye to eye with the startled changeling – “And-and – Oh my gosh, You’re more toasty than Sweetie Belle’s toast! Wait… wait, you’re normally that color. Whew, that’s a relief! Or… or maybe not! Or maybe – or – or – argh, how am I supposed to tell when you look like charcoal to begin with?! Wait, I got it!”

The next thing Applejack knew, there was a pair of eyes looming improbably close to hers, fixing her with an intense stare that could’ve burned a hole through lead.

“Applejack, are. You. Alive?”

“Pinkie, what in tarnation are ya goin’ on about?” Applejack asked, going from astonishment to giving Pinkie her usual perplexed look.  “Ah’m just fine, Ah promise. Don’t got a scratch on me. Ah don’t got the faintest idea how, but Ah sure ain’t complainin’. Where did y’all come from?”

Pinkie, looking very unconvinced, completely skipped over Applejack’s question altogether like she hadn’t spoken at all. “We have to be sure! Quick, how many hooves am I holding up?!”

“…One,” Applejack replied, nonplussed.

Pinkie paused, seemingly reevaluating her choice in test, then replaced her hoof back on the ground. “Huh. That seemed a lot more effective in my head. Like jam-stuffed jello.”

Applejack grumbled, rolling her eyes. At least now she was certain that she was at least dealing with the real, random article. “Now, would ya mind lettin’ me up? Ah promise there ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.”

Pinkie Pie blinked, slowly, then her stare lost most of its intensity and she leaned back. “Okie-dokie-lokie,” she said, though she still didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Applejack smiled at her friend, then carefully got to her hooves. “By the way, where’re the others?” she asked while trying to keep her nerves in check. She hadn’t failed to notice how solitary her pink friend was, even if she appeared unharmed. “They’re not hurt, right?”

Instead of answering verbally, Pinkie simply raised a hoof to point out over the square at a rather auspicious sight.

“Is everypony alright?” called Rarity, who was in the process of being airlifted towards the balcony by a panicky Fluttershy, who seemed torn between wanting to fall flat on the ground and the urge to make sure her friends were alright. Obviously the latter was winning out, though the former could’ve happened at any given minute.

Strangely, they didn’t seem to be coming from the stands, like Applejack would’ve expected. Instead, they appeared to be coming from over a nearby tree and down from above.

Applejack immediately locked on to that little detail and narrowed her eyes slightly. But just as she was opening her mouth to shoot a question at the quickly approaching pair, the fashionista unintentionally cut her off.

“We’re terribly sorry, but somepony grabbed us right after that terrible explosion,” Rarity explained apologetically, just as Fluttershy set her down on the balcony.

“Me, too,” Fluttershy concurred softly, touching down without a sound. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was listening to Princess Celestia giving her speech, then there was a really loud noise, then… poof.”

“Poof?” Rainbow echoed, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Pinkie piped up excitedly, drawing three sets of eyes towards her. “It happened to me, too! There was that huge POW – or was it a bang? I can never tell sometimes…”

“Pinkie…”

“Oh, right! Then everything got really dark and squeezy like a really small sleeping bag, then poof!”

Applejack and Rainbow exchanged loaded looks that were equal parts knowing and, at the same time, uncomprehending.

“Do you think Rose…?” Rainbow muttered.

“It musta been,” Applejack replied, frowning.

“What?” asked Rarity, cocking an eyebrow.

Just as Applejack opened her mouth to respond, a slight commotion behind her distracted her.

“Applejack, are you alright?” said Cadance’s voice, drawing the changeling’s attention.

But it wasn’t just the pink alicorn that was rushing over towards Applejack. Both of her honor guards cantered along right behind her, including a very alert Shining Armor who seemed liable to develop whiplash if he continued to snap his head around as fast as he was while his eyes scanned every conceivable hiding place for potential assailants.

Twilight came running up right on Cadance’s heels, looking frazzled and a little disoriented by the suddenness of recent events. Applejack couldn’t help but notice the number of postcards that were chasing after her on violet envelopes of magic, and just the sight of them caused Applejack’s gut to twist even more.

Captain Steel Shod galloped right beside the lavender princess, and he seemed to be doing his level best to put Twilight in his rather vast shadow, all-but hiding her from view. But Applejack also noticed the numerous looks he threw her way, as well as the way he seemed to be trying to bar Twilight’s way in order to draw her up short.

Twilight simply sidestepped around him without a second thought every time, however, as her attention was wholly devoted to reaching her friends, until she and Cadance came to a stop in front of Applejack.

“What about you folks?” Applejack responded while looking everypony up and down for signs of even a single hair being out of place. “Is everypony alright?”

“Everypony’s present and accounted for,” Shining Armor responded, though he sounded very bewildered by the authenticity of his own words. “I barely managed to get a shield up around me and Cadance in time, but… Something felt off about that fire. It didn’t feel right when it hit my spell.”

“Same for me,” Twilight chimed in, sounding the epitome of confused.

“And me,” echoed a new voice, one that came from the second of Applejack’s honor guards, who’s demeanor hardly seemed dented by the blast.

Applejack couldn’t help but look at him, confused. When did he put a shield up around them? And why did his voice ring a bell?

She was distracted, however, when she noticed Shining Armor giving her a relieved look. “I thought you guys weren’t going to make it. I could’ve sworn you guys took a direct hit. I’m glad everything turned out alright, though.”

Applejack shook her head. “Ah woulda bet that way, too. Ah thought we were goners for sure. What in tarnation happened? Where’d that darn airship go?”

“I dunno,” Pinkie chimed in, and she sounded remarkably confused, too. She even shrugged when several of her friends looked at her. “My tail didn’t go twitchy-twitch, not even a little bit. Are we sure we didn’t just imagine it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Twilight retorted, shooting the party pony a look, “I’m pretty sure.” 

“Oh,” was Pinkie’s simple response. Then she lapsed into silence, a deep and thoughtful frown on her face.

Cadance, frowning, turned her head up towards the hazy sky – towards the exact point that the explosion had happened, now marked only by a small ring of vaporous smoke. “Imagined it…?” she muttered quietly, her voice so low it seemed like she was talking to herself.

Rainbow couldn’t restrain a very incredulous look as she rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on more important things? Like finding out who the hay did this so we can return the favor?”

“Rash action may not be the most prudent choice right now, Rainbow Dash,” said another voice, drawing everyone’s attention away and towards the edge of the balcony.

Princess Celestia stood exactly where she’d been before, unmoved. The only sign that she hadn’t completely missed the catastrophe in its entirety was the unusually peeved look she wore, as if slightly irked by some minor inconvenience and hardly anything more.

Princess Luna – coffee finished and mug set aside – hopped from her throne to move up next to Celestia, along with her bat pony guards, one of which was clinging painfully to her fuzzy ears and wincing.

“Are you alright, sister?” Luna asked. She barely sounded concerned, though the critical eye she flashed over Celestia’s snow-white profile was quite discrete.

“I’m fine, Luna,” Celestia promised, yet she didn’t turn to meet her sister’s eye. Instead, she focused on something in front of her; something out in the middle of the square.

Just as Applejack started to follow her gaze, Celestia spoke up again. This time, however, her voice was louder, and much more sharp and commanding.

“Captain Steel Shod,” she said swiftly and clearly.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Guard Captain responded gruffly, snapping to attention.

“Gather up the town Guard and aid in evacuating everyone from the district as quickly as possible. Make sure they get to the safety of the Guard post before activating the perimeter.” Celestia then turned to give Steel Shod a look, as if she could see straight through the captain. “I do not want anyone left behind, Captain.”

To his credit, Steel Shod’s expression didn’t even waver. His pause was hardly even detectable, and almost immediately covered up by a sharp salute.

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said, just as composed as ever, before turning away and leaping clean off the balcony. He landed with a heavy thud on the ground below, and then charged down a side road and out of sight.

Applejack watched him go, but only for a heartbeat. Steel Shod was barely two houses away when Celestia’s voice distracted her.

“As for the rest of you, I would like you all to follow Shining Armor to safety as well,” she said.

When Applejack turned around to look at the monarch, she saw Celestia glancing over one shoulder straight towards her in particular with a much more deep-set worry in her eyes. “Especially you, Applejack. The others will likely be worried sick.”

Applejack gulped, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. Nevertheless, she nodded. She had a pretty good idea of how wound up the drones were likely to be.

But that did raise another question that drifted through her mind for a moment. Where were the other changelings, too? And why were she and the rest of the royals still there, at ground zero, alone?

She was only just starting to puzzle over those questions when she noticed a certain lavender alicorn freezing in place just as Shining Armor made to push her and the others to safety.

“Hold on a second, Princess Celestia!” Twilight said apprehensively, taking an automatic step forward around her brother’s outstretched hoof. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Not yet,” Celestia responded calmly, her eyes still forward.

“But… why not?” Twilight asked nervously.

“Because, my faithful student,” Celestia responded, her voice just as serious as ever, “this is not over yet.”

Applejack’s body tensed almost painfully, her heart thudding in her chest. That was the moment she became very aware of how focused the regal alicorn’s gaze was.

But what happened next took her and everyone else by complete surprise.

Suddenly, a bright shaft of light cut through the gloom like a knife, just as a voice filled the still morning air. It rang off of the nearby houses like it had an entire bank of speakers amplifying it, which shattered the silence quite spectacularly. Worst yet, it was a very terribly familiar voice.

“Ladies and gentlecolts! Colts and fillies of all ages! Welcome to this morning’s final presentation!” boomed out the voice of the royal caller himself.

His voice still rang with that same cheery excitement as before, completely unchanged, and yet now – to Applejack at least – that very enthusiastic voice was raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

It didn’t take her long to spot where the stallion had gone. Instead of standing at the head of the balcony, he’d somehow managed to make it halfway across the square entirely, placing him several feet in front of the massive tent in the center – a place nopony would ever miss him – and at the heart of a glowing beam of magical light akin to a spotlight without a source.

He had a hoof in the air, a big cheery smile on his face, and for all the world, seemed to be carrying on with his routine just as planned.

Everyone on the balcony exchanged looks ranging from confusion to deeply apprehensive. Shining Armor pushed his way to the front of the group, assuming a defensive posture just in case.

Yet none of them seemed to exist to the caller. Not a soul caught his eye, save for one amber-maned queen.

His eyes unnerved Applejack. They never wavered from her, and despite the air of flamboyant enthusiasm lighting up his face, his eyes were as cold and lifeless as stones underneath the spotlight’s glow.

“Now that I have all of your attentions, I must ask for a mere moment of your time,” he went on just as before – full of energy, full of enthusiasm. “I am sure you, along with the rest of Ponyville can spare some.”

It was at that moment that Applejack realized that the caller’s tremendously amplified voice was not just for show. He was broadcasting his voice all across town, so that every street, alley and thoroughfare could hear him. It seemed that his audience would not just be the royals, and for some reason, that put Applejack on edge a lot more than seemed necessary.

“And who might you be?” Princess Celestia asked, her voice sharp, yet even.

“Me?” chuckled the stallion, acting as if the princess had made an amusing jest. “I am nopony; that is all there is to it. I am merely a humble messenger with something to say.”

The caller stepped forward, slicking back his inky black mane upon his golden head as he did so. Every pair of eyes followed him, with a few tensing with every little move he made.

“I come to you, Equestria, to tell you a story; a story about one you may be very familiar with indeed!” he said energetically. “I am here to tell you the tale of a young, aspiring queen who sought to change the fate of her people, and the many, far more powerful rulers she enraged in her foolishness.”

Applejack gritted her fangs. As if she had to speculate who that might’ve been.

“For nearly half a year, this young queen has been living in a delusion; that she could achieve her goals, and the repercussions for her actions would never come! But, with her stunted grasp on the world she pretends to tread in, she has reached far beyond her capabilities. For one does not steal away the resources of a mighty kingdom without hefty consequence, as you will all soon discover for yourselves.”

At her side, Applejack felt Rainbow bristle, as if it were taking every ounce of self-control to keep from doing something violent. Applejack knew she was starting to have the same difficulties, herself.

“But in the end, the young queen’s quest will be for naughtt!” the caller said, gesturing grandly with his fore hooves. “The wrath she invoked for her naïve actions would prove to be her ultimate undoing… and the undoing of all those around her.” 

Several of the others all around Applejack gasped. Applejack herself tensed for a moment, her muscles locking up as she stifled her own voice.	

“But never fear, Equestria!” he proclaimed as if he were announcing some kind of bonus round for a game show. ““Today is but the beginning of the final chapter in this story I present to you. There is time yet to alter the course of this most dire of futures! Though, I doubt there is much of it left.”

Princess Celestia’s eyes narrowed ominously, her lips forming a thin line.

“That is why I am here! I have been tasked with the delivery of an ultimatum from the Royal Court!” the caller went on. “It is quite a simple ultimatum, so never fear! But I would not pass this chance up if I were you! There may not be another one.”

Applejack was almost painfully aware of the anxiously murmured conversations that were undoubtedly taking place all across Ponyville between ponies and the looks they exchanged. And Applejack knew, at the heart of every word uttered, she would be at the center of it.

“The terms are simple,” the caller shouted merrily. “For the sake of keeping your beautiful country so pristine, for the sake of sparing your peaceful nation from the ache of someone else’s war, all we ask in return is that Queen Applejack be removed from Equestria… and turned over to us.”

The response was immediate.

Applejack heard the cry go out somewhere overhead, amid the tree branches. In a flurry of movement, Applejack found herself completely surrounded by changelings appearing seemingly out of nowhere. 

half a dozen drones all crowded around Applejack, shielding her behind a living phalanx of hissing, buzzing shadows that were all turned to answer the threat with fang and spell. 

Some practically huddled around her, blocking all avenues of attack. Some even clung to her, as if fearing she’d up and vanish into thin air at any given second if someone didn’t hold her down. Others took the front, snarling and crouched low with fangs bared and ears flipped back.

But it wasn’t just the changelings that leapt to her defense.

Right before her eyes, five mares jumped up in front of her, barring the path of any would-be attack. Even Fluttershy wasn’t looking quite as timid as usual as she determinedly held her wings open to cover her friend as best she could.

“In case you were wondering,” Rainbow bellowed angrily between her hooves at the caller, “This means ‘no’!”

The caller didn’t respond. He only watched the scene unfold in mild amusement, unaffected by the numerous glares he was catching now.

“You will never have Applejack!” one of the drones cried out, and it took Applejack several seconds to realize the voice belonged to Roseluck. She’d never once heard the usually calm and collected mare shout like that before. “We may not be fighters, but we’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe!”

“So it would seem,” remarked the caller. He heaved a loud, sad sigh, and yet still maintained that unsettling smile of his. “Oh well, I suppose it was a bit much to ask for right away. But never fear! You have a second option to choose from!”

The caller raised one hoof, as if expecting to be given something right then and there. “If you will not surrender Queen Applejack, you will give me her crown,” he said simply. “That’s it. Simple, no?”

For a second time, the square fell silent. Even the furious drones paused in their hissing and spitting to look at one another in confusion.

Applejack became all-too aware of the small, usually light thing resting atop her head – unobtrusive and forgetful on the average day. At that moment, however, it seemed to weigh ten pounds.

Her crown, the last gift imparted to her by her mother, Queen Carnation and, in a way, by her aunt, Hyacinth. It was the only thing she had of either of them, and despite the other kind of weight it laden her with, she had never once thought of being parted from it. It’d just never crossed her mind.

Before Applejack realized what she was doing, she’d retrieved her crown from her head and looked down at it. It was such a small thing, made of what looked to be polished black stone and topped by four gleaming, flawless topazes. It certainly wasn’t as grand as the royal sisters’ or Twilight’s.

“Surely it would not be much to ask for,” the caller went on, still smiling friendlily. “Applejack, you say again and again how you are no queen. You willingly admit that you do not have the knowledge, nor the ability to govern your people. But surely, even you can see how simple the choice is. Either lay down your life, or lay down the lives of all those you hold dear… or give up your crown. Which will it be?”

Applejack continued to look down at her crown for a moment. The choice seemed like the easiest in the world. Yet…

She looked up, and in her peripheral vision, she noticed everyone looking at her. Not just her friends and the royals, but also the many glowing eyes of the changelings around her.

She glanced at them for a moment, then returned her gaze back at the caller, who was waiting patiently.

“What’s so important about my crown?” She asked. “Ah thought ya said it was what Ah stood for that was gettin’ me in trouble, and last Ah checked, what Ah wore had nothin’ ta do with who Ah was.”

The caller’s expression didn’t falter. His expression did become rather patient, however. “It is about giving up that which you do not deserve, nor want. One gesture of humility for so many lives. Is that too much to ask?”

Applejack frowned. Something wasn’t right. Something else was going on here.

Her shoulders squared, she touched the two changelings in front of her, and after giving them a determined, meaningful look, they parted slightly for her to step forward. 

But the drones did not stay far behind. They moved with her out of pure anxiety, so even though she moved all the way up to the ledge of the balcony to stand side by side with her friends, she did so with nearly a dozen blue-eyed shadows practically clinging protectively to her.

The caller stayed motionless where he stood as he watched the amber-maned changeling move forward, his eyes never wavering from her.

Applejack stood tall, unfazed by the emptiness in those eyes, and shot him a hard look of her own. “And what if Ah refuse?”

The caller paused for a moment, as if not quite believing what he was hearing. Then, he chuckled once. “Believe me, Your Highness, it is in your best interest not to find out what the combined fury of the entire Royal Court feels like. One queen nearly toppled your entire country in one swift blow. What do you think all thirteen will do to it?””

Applejack’s eyes widened in shock, her chest pounding.

Thirteen? There were thirteen queens in the Royal Court? She’d never paused to give much thought to how many queens were left in the world, but after Queen Phantasma’s crusade, she’d assumed there weren’t many at all. But for there to be thirteen…

And the caller was right. Just one had very nearly brought down the whole of Equestria and rocked it to its foundations. What could twelve more accomplish?  

“So, those are you two options!” the caller said with a flourish, pulling away from their conversation to address the whole of Ponyville. It was like he hadn’t just delivered a death threat at all. “The life of a powerless queen and the misguided virtues she stands for, or the symbol of her ill-appointed office. The choice is yours, ladies and gentlecolts; not just hers!”

“Is that so?” shouted Rainbow, anger rising in her voice, her wings flared with welling indignation. “You know what I vote for? I vote for option three; we beat you to a pulp, then throw what’s left back the way you came!”

“I second that motion,” shot Roseluck, stepping forward.

All eyes turned to her as she broke away from the amassed group, placing her slight frame in front of everyone else as if to protect them all.

“Rose?” Applejack muttered, both confused and a little worried. Roseluck was moving like a mare on a mission, and it was making Applejack more and more anxious as a result.

The caller watched the drone, his expression almost encouraging, but he said nothing.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Roseluck said, her voice quivering with barely repressed anger. “But to come here, alone, to threaten an entire hive and then expect results? You certainly are an arrogant one, aren’t you?”

The stallion cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “My apologies. Was I supposed to be frightened by the might of the Royal Guard? Or perhaps I was supposed to fear a bunch of farmers, builders and nurses?”

At that, Roseluck snorted, and one corner of her mouth pulled up. “No. What you should be afraid of is your belief that that’s all we are.”

For the first time, the caller’s eyes widened a fraction of a millimeter, just as emerald flashes began to light up the square.

All along the balcony, flashes of light caught Applejack’s attention. She turned, and to her utter astonishment, saw several of the honor guards bursting into green flames.

One of Luna’s guards, One of Celestia’s, even the unicorn mare who’d remained faithfully by Twilight’s side – all burst into flames, coats and armor burning away to reveal something else entirely.

For a moment, Applejack couldn’t quite make sense of what they were. At first glance, they all appeared to be formless shadows in the vague shape of pony-like creatures. Then, a wind blew through the square with a cold morning’s bite, and Applejack noticed their forms… flapping.

That was when she realized it. They were all wearing dusty brown, rugged cloaks. Just like…

“Hyacinth,” she breathed in astonishment.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” sighed the changeling that’d once been Twilight’s guard. She bounded up towards the ledge of the balcony in two big leaps and stuck the landing like a cat, balancing on the thin strip of molding that ran the length of the edge. Her cloak swirled around her like a comet tail as she moved, which revealed the thick black hem line with red, cryptic markings.

“About time, I say,” grumbled the changeling that’d been Luna’s bodyguard. He simply brushed the hood from his head without care while meandering his way to the front of the group. His icy blue, featureless eyes drifted around lazily, as if he didn’t really have his heart in it. “I was getting tired of this grub’s self-righteous speech. I was going to fall asleep if he went on much more!”

“Cloak, Dagger, be quiet,” snapped a third changeling in a low, raspy voice. This one stood next to Princess Celestia, standing at attention, his sturdy body tense and his poise immaculate. “You’re standing in Her Highness’s presence. Show a little respect.”

Applejack noticed how both cloaked changelings paused, then glanced in her direction carefully. There was something in the eyes, though; some glint in their depths that unsettled her. There was something about them that was much more cunning and alert than the rest of their body language was giving off.

After momentarily catching her eye, both cloaked drones exchanged bored looks. “If you insist, Antlion. You’re the boss,” said the male drone dully.

The female drone pulled a face, perhaps rolling her eyes. “Oh please. I’ll take this guy seriously once he gives me something to get serious about. Right now all I’ve got to fear from him is getting talked to death.”

The one called Antlion shot her a look that could’ve frozen boiling water, and despite her insubordinate attitude before, she immediately reigned herself in and fell quiet.

The caller watched quietly, his expression unusually blank. “I’m afraid you have me at something of a disadvantage.”

Antlion merely looked down at him, thoroughly unimpressed. “Yes, that was the idea.”

“Your mistake was thinking we couldn’t see you coming,” Roseluck explained in a hard voice, regaining the caller’s attention. “I am kind of disappointed you’d fall for such an obvious feint. Didn’t you find it odd that we’d apparently leave Applejack and the other royals undefended for any length of time? And we’d been bracing for much worse, too.” 

The caller looked around, and for the first time, his expression was unreadable; his smile was gone, his features blank.

“So you say the Royal Court sends their regards?” the other male changeling said casually. “Well, the Spymaster sends his.” 

When he heard that, the caller’s eyes grew very wide indeed. Even Applejack looked on in surprise, blinking.

“Spymaster?” Rainbow repeated, perplexed, her eyes going to Applejack. “What the hay is that?”

“First Ah’m hearin’ about it, too,” Applejack admitted, frowning. Her eyes searched the back of Roseluck’s head, seeking some kind of explanation to all the questions she had. Rose… what aren’t ya tellin’ me?

But telepathy was not one of Roseluck’s skills. Granted, she could probably guess that Applejack was looking at the back of her head quite intensely, but she pretended otherwise.

“If you surrender peacefully,” she stated, “we’ll be sure to get you back to your masters so that you can tell them that we are capable of defending ourselves against any further… annoyances.”

“And if I don’t?” inquired the outnumbered caller. He even made it almost sound like an innocently curious question.

“We’ll send back what’s left, and hope the Court can extrapolate,” the female cloaked drone promised with a wicked smile.

The stallion stayed quiet for a few seconds, as if to weigh his options while scrutinizing Roseluck and the gathered squad of cloaked changelings. Then, he slowly opened his mouth to speak again.

“I see. So, you have just been the middle-mare all along. Clever – very clever. You are proving far more capable than the Court thought to expect!” he said with exceeding cheerfulness.

Roseluck scrutinized the stallion, frowning. “I’m getting the feeling that you’re not going to give up peacefully.”

The caller actually laughed at that. It was clearly intended to be a good-humored laugh, but it cracked halfway through, devolving into something almost… maniacal.

“Ah ha ha… Apologies, my dear, you’re just so adorable when you think you’re in control of this situation!”

A bad feeling took hold of Applejack then, her skin crawling. She lurched forward in reaction, but instantly found two pairs of holey forelegs crossed in front of her chest. Before she could do anything, the stallion moved.

“Perhaps,” he said – almost purred – “you and everypony here need a more… compelling demonstration of Their Highnesses’ abilities.”

As he spoke, he started to raise one hoof, bottom up, as if to offer it to Roseluck.

And with a small flash of emerald light, something odd appeared in his hoof, as if being push up through a hole in its center.

The object was hardly bigger than a baseball, and just as perfectly round. It seemed to be made from some kind of polished yet craggy black ore covered in fissures and cracks. Whatever it was, it seemed to have been petrified, yet strangely, its surface seemed to be shifting and squirming, as if there was something within that was very much alive.

Whatever the object was, it held no meaning to Applejack. For all she knew, it could’ve been some kind of piece of coal. The same could not be said, however, for the changelings in the square.

Out of nowhere, several of the drones started shrieking in terror. “Sylphid!”

The entire congregation jolted back a step or two as if the caller had just pulled out a bomb. The drones huddling around Applejack compacted together tighter, whimpering and trembling at the same time. Even the ones lining the square jolted back a step in reaction, tensing.

Even Roseluck jumped back, her eyes going as big as they possibly could get.

The caller merely grinned smugly. His outstretched hoof was held almost unnaturally still, holding the thing for all to see. “Yes, I think this will do nicely.”

The only one who didn’t recoil in fear was Twilight’s former bodyguard. Her eyes seemed to gleam even brighter at the sight of the alien object. “Oooo, now that’s more like it.” 

“Easy, Dagger. Down girl,” Luna’s former bodyguard said, which earned him a scathing look.

“What’s a Sylphid?” Twilight asked, her own apprehension starting to rise. 

“A very good question, Your Highness!” acknowledged the caller, his voice now almost patronizing. “I very much doubt your kind has ever seen such a creature as this. Why, when I first arrived here in Equestria, I could barely believe just how tame this land was! Even the biggest, most dangerous of beasts paled in comparison to the most mild of predators from where I come from! Such an unprotected town as this one, sitting right beside what is reputed to be the most dangerous, inhospitable place in all of Equestria – the Everfree Forest – has had next to nothing to fear!”

The caller laughed once, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have never had to know what it’s like, living behind a boundary wall, ears trained for the faintest of noises, ready to drop what you’re doing and run at even the slightest of alarms. You have never needed to know what it’s like to be surrounded by predators that cannot be reasoned with or appeased; whose only concern in life is the taking of others’. You have never needed to know true fear of the world that surrounds you.”

The caller extended the small object out just a little further. “This stands as a perfect example of the world outside of your peaceful borders. It is a monster through and through. Why, an egg like this can lie dormant for centuries beneath the ground. But disturb it even a little bit…”

He chuckled darkly, eyes on the ancient thing in his hoof. “Well… it would not be a pretty sight. They have very… particular tastes, you see. And I’m afraid a place like this would be an absolute buffet.”

Applejack couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably. She couldn’t envision such the nightmare the caller was describing, especially from such a small object. But at the same time, she dearly did not want to find out for real.

Yet it seemed inevitable at that point. Unless this messenger got what he wanted, at least – but even then, what were the chances of him simply backing off?

Applejack was all-too aware of all the ponies and changelings still occupying the square. At best, she’d have time for maybe one move – one order, possibly. Then, all Tartaurus was going to break loose. And if what the faux caller was saying was true at all, not all of them would see the next few hours.

The caller chuckled, as if knowing the only potential outcome that could safely be reached. “So then, I shall ask you one more time, Applejack. Will you give up your crown or your life for the sake of these ponies? Or do I need to demonstrate the true power of fear to such a happy little community?”

Applejack hesitated. She stalled. Her mind worked this way and that, trying to think of some way out of the situation they were in.

But the caller was much too far away to stage any kind of intervention. And if she simply complied, what were the chances of him simply leaving without incident? Not good. But if she did nothing, the outcome was certainly unavoidable. So, it was a matter of slim chance, versus inevitability.

Applejack looked down at her crown, still clasped in her hooves. She could just see tiny reflections of herself in those four topazes looking back at her, as if waiting for her decision.

Her life, her crown, or her friends. With choices like that, the choice seemed painfully obvious.

But just as Applejack started to extend her hoof, her heart heavy, a voice reached her ears, shrilly crying out from somewhere in front of her.

“Don’t do it, Applejack!”

She jolted and, along with everyone else, she turned her head towards the source of that voice.

And there stood a little, blue-maned pegasus filly, peeking out over the atop the tall tent at the center of the square.

“Agave?” Applejack breathed, astonished, her heart thudding in her chest.

The young changeling stared back at her, her eyes filled with panic and fear. “Don’t listen to him, Applejack!” Agave screamed. “He’s trying to trick you! Whatever you do, don’t give him your crown!”

By that point, however, she’d gained the attention of more than just the ones on the balcony.

The caller had turned his head, cold eyes turning frigid as he looked up, all pretenses disappearing. “Ah, there you are.”

What happened next occurred so fast that Applejack almost missed it entirely.

The caller suddenly whipped around with truly alarming speed, going a lot faster than anyone would’ve given him credit for. He raised his horn, and fired a bolt of caustic light intended straight for the loudmouth filly above him.

Agave cringed back with a terrified squeal. At the same time, all three cloaked changelings sprang forward like arrows being loosed from their bows, seizing on the opening the little changeling had made for them.

But they never quite made it in time. And neither did the caller’s spell. Something happened right before Applejack’s eyes, something she didn’t have time to even begin to explain.

With a loud pang, the caller’s spell exploded mid-flight, disseminating in a shower of emerald swirls of light and electricity that raced through the air, around the tent.

Whatever the spell encountered, it did not take kindly to being struck. With an even louder boom, the scattering energies rebounded in a shockwave that blasted the air clear of smoke in a perfect dome around the tent.

Applejack could only watch as the caller was picked up off the ground from the force of the backlash, and thrown backwards with a yelp. 

And everyone could only watch in horror as his hoof tilted as he fell, and the egg slipped from his grasp.

The group of ponies and changelings were just barely inhaling a gasp when the encrusted egg lightly plopped to the ground on a bed of soft grass… and promptly exploded.

And out of the ruptured shell erupted something horrendous, and very much alive.

It expanded with alarming speed, as if it were attached to a hose. Its flabby, ashy grey body ballooned and swelled, almost appearing to bubble as it grew and grew and grew. Within seconds, it’d grown to the size of a train car. Then, to the size of a house.

It just kept bloating and swelling, its long body rolling and roiling as it flipped over itself and thrashed on the ground in its effort of rise. What appeared to be some kind of swollen tail swung through the air as it unfurled, nearly doubling in size halfway through its arc before slamming with a heavy, flabby thud that reverberated through the ground.

Finally, hundreds of tiny, wicked claws the color of charred bone found the earth, and the Sylphid raised itself into the air.

It was a terrible sight. The upper body of the creature was clad in a thick boney, spiny carapace that rattled and clacked with every move it made. Its entire underside was wriggling and roiling with hundreds upon hundreds of tiny, scrabbling claws that were sprouting out of legs so bloated they appeared to be little more than gargantuan warts topped by curved claws. Whatever wasn’t armored was comprised of flabby, grotesque pudge that made the whole thing look completely ungainly.

The head resting atop its obese, worm-like body resembled a massive centipede’s, complete with a set of sideways-mounted, scything mandibles that produced a very unsettling, very loud chattering sound as they clicked together. It was sunken slightly into its carapace, making it look absurdly like it was snuggled deep down within a series of mammoth vertebrae.

Either side of its head was adorned with countless glassy black eyes that gleamed almost wickedly while two long feathery antennae batted at the air.

The Sylphid swayed itself from side to side, sweeping its head to and fro in great arcs, its long antennae bobbing and swaying as it produced a strange trilling sound.

“Well, that’s… troubling,” remarked the male cloaked changeling, presumably Cloak. He and his compatriots had screeched to a halt only a few feet through their jumps, and all three were now quickly backpedalling as fast as their wings could take them.

“Captain Shining Armor,” Princess Celestia spoke up, her voice only slightly sharper than usual, “I believe I gave you an order.”

“It’s just a big bug,” Rainbow pointed out incredulously, “how bad can it be?”

That was precisely the moment Applejack noticed the wind.

It wasn’t bad at first; just an errant breeze that, strangely, refused to die down. But it kept getting stronger by the second. Pretty soon, Applejack began to notice the sounds of the branches rattling overhead, and the bell peppers chiming wildly, and the way her braid was swaying back and forth.

At the same time, she noticed a very disturbing smell beginning to permeate the air; the smell of decaying plant life.

And before her very eyes, Applejack watched as the grass beneath the Sylphid’s bloated body started to wilt, then die. And the more the decay spread, the stronger the wind became, as if the rot was fueling the building storm.

“Remind me to smack the blue one later,” complained Dagger sourly.

“What’s happening?” Twilight said, raising her voice as the wind reached a howl. “Why is everything withering?”

“It’s the Sylphid!” Roseluck said back loudly. “We have to get out of here, now! If it gets ahold of any of us, it’ll suck the life right out of us!”

“Hey, what’s a little fun without a little challenge,” laughed the cloaked female changeling.

“And I’m guessing you have a plan to defeat something we can’t touch, Dagger?” the other cloaked drone asked almost casually.

Dagger hesitated at that.

“Yeah, I thought not,” sighed Cloak.

Dust was starting to kick up from the howling winds whipping through the square, and as everyone watched, the gale outlined the swirling vortex forming around the gargantuan worm itself. It was like an earthbound twister, and it was getting bigger and bigger by the second.

Applejack could feel the air tugging at her, trying to drag her off her hooves and into the heart of the maelstrom forming in the middle of the square. She watched as postcards, banners, decorations, even leaves and twigs were sucked into the vortex, never to be seen again.

“We have to get this thing out of Ponyville,” Twilight shouted. “It’ll destroy everything at this rate!”

Applejack knew Twilight was right. More often than not she was, and every time the apple farmer had thought otherwise, it’d come back to bite her in the flank.

So, she quickly replaced her crown back atop her head, squared her shoulders, and then turned towards Roseluck.

“Got any ideas on how ta get rid of this critter?” Applejack asked critically. If anypony would know how to deal with a creature from the south, it would be a changeling, at least in her mind. 

But the helpless look she got in response was all the answer she needed. “I… I don’t know! I’ve never heard of anyone challenging a Sylphid before and surviving! They’re part of the reason why no one made it past the Badlands before your mother!”

“Not to mention,” Cloak put in, “Queen Phantasma’s favorite way of destroying an entire hive was by throwing one of these things in and locking the door behind it.”

“Well that’s promising,” Rainbow said dryly.

“Then we’re just going to have to wing it,” Twilight stated with a lot more determination than she was feeling. “It has to have some kind of a weakness. We just have to find out what it is!”

As she spoke, the Sylphid reared up, producing a loud trilling sound. And maybe it was Applejack’s imagination, but it looked to be somehow bigger than before.

“…Somehow,” Twilight amended nervously.

Applejack was just starting to wonder how exactly they were going to go about doing that when she noticed one of the cloaked changelings moving in front of her.

“Your Highness,” he shouted, and Applejack realized it was Antlion, “we must evacuate you out of this area immediately! It’s not safe for you here!”

Applejack jolted back a step automatically in reaction to their abrupt appearance.

“He’s right,” Roseluck insisted. “The Inner Sect will handle it! Right now we need to fall back and regroup, and…” she trailed off when she noticed the look Applejack was giving her. “… Explain ourselves, too.”

“Ya got that right,” Applejack said, frowning a little.

“How is that an option?” Rainbow shouted back at Rose, not believing what she was hearing. “That thing is going to tear Ponyville apart!”

“And we won’t lose all of our leaders in the process,” Antlion countered, unmoved.

“We have to do something!” Rarity hollered. “You can’t expect us to simply sit by while that dreadful beast devours our homes!”

“Unless you’ve got some skill in quelling beasts,” interjected Dagger, “I seriously doubt you’ll be much help. And why is the yellow one staring at me like that?”

“We don’t have time to argue about this!” said Shining Armor this time, and in the next second, his horn was glowing brightly. His intention was to end the arguing the best way he knew how; by solving the problem at hoof.

That, however, turned out to be the absolute worst thing to do.

“Don’t!” cried Roseluck and Dagger at the same time, but it was too late. The moment Shining started channeling his spell, the Sylphid’s head whipped around, antennae standing rigidly at attention, its sights locking on the balcony. It hesitated only a split second before demonstrating just how mobile it truly was when it lunged hungrily straight at them all with lightning speed.

“Scatter!” Applejack bellowed, just an instant before everyone did just that.

She threw herself one way, just as the Sylphid slammed it’s thickly plated upper into the structure she and everyone else were standing on like a wrecking ball. The wooden beams snapped and buckled as if made of dried twigs, ejecting ponies and changelings every which way into the awaiting, howling gale.

~~***~~

Rainbow hit the ground hard on her chest with a yelp, bounced, then landed again spread eagle on the ground. 

She may have done a flip in the process, but she had no way to be sure. The only thing she was positively aware of was the screaming winds yanking at her with increasing ferocity.

The swirling gale had reached such a pitch that it was stealing her breath away; like she was facing headlong into a windstorm. Bits of rocks, dirt and detritus were whipping through the air all around her, borne by the savage vortex. And somehow, it was getting still stronger.

Rainbow tried to make herself as low to the ground as possible and dug her hooves in as best she could for support. But the moment she was anchored, she started whipping her head around this way and that in order to find her friends.

She knew they were out there; they had to be! But the more she looked, the more she came up with the same thing; dust, debris and howling winds. Rainbow couldn’t hear anything over the gale anymore. Not even her voice pierced the storm in the slightest.

“Fluttershy! Twilight? Pinkie Pie! Is anypony out there!”

Nothing. Not a single trace of another living soul anywhere near her. But she knew they were out there. And so was the Sylphid.

All of her friends were in danger. At any moment…

A flash of orange crashed through her mind like a cannonball. Orange… and a lot of red…

Rainbow gritted her teeth, hard. She couldn’t stay here, cowering on the ground like some bed-wetting foal. Rose had chosen her to be Applejack’s bodyguard, and for a reason! And bodyguards did not sit around twiddling their hooves while the pony they were in charge of was put in harm’s way! Everyone was in danger, and she could either sit there and do nothing about that, or she could be Rainbow Dash!

“Hang on, Applejack,” she growled under her breath as she struggled to rise in total defiance of the lashing storm. “I’m coming. Just hang on…”

But as she managed to force herself into a crouch, something moved out of the corner of her eye. There was a shadow off to her left that stood in complete defiance of the storm. Stranger still, it was moving – straight towards her.

Rainbow turned on the approaching form, keeping herself crouched low. “Who’s there?”

Whatever it was, the wind broke around it like it was nothing more than a brittle breeze. The figure moved so effortlessly, even with the fury of the Sylphid’s windstorm slamming into it broadside. Only its ragged, hole-ridden tail moved in the wind.

Rainbow’s eyes grew wide as the figure grew closer. Even through the dust swirling about her head, she could make out those particular glowing blue eyes illuminating the darkness.

“Uh, do I know you?” She asked. It could be hard to tell sometimes, even under the best of conditions.

She trailed off, however, when she noticed the crackling green light fulminating on the end of the figure’s slightly curved black horn.

“Not exactly,” said Vanity.

~~***~~

Applejack groaned, rubbing her head where she’d bumped it against the ground. She hadn’t had the most graceful of landings, sliding face-first through the dirt for a foot or two before coming to an unceremonious stop.

But at the moment, the amount of dirt she had caked inside her mouth wasn’t her top concern.

Applejack squinted her eyes against the lashing gale, keeping herself as low as possible, lest she, too, be swept away.

She’d lived through some windstorms before, but this… this was something else entirely. The wind was almost a physical force, like each gust was attached to a solid limb that tried in equal measure to bash her to pieces and rip her to shreds. And if it was given half a chance, Applejack had no doubt that that’s exactly what would’ve happened.

As she looked around, a humongous wood beam skewered the ground right in front of her, burying itself deep enough into the earth to resist the pounding wind for a few spare moments.

But the thing that caught Applejack’s eye was just how old it looked. The wood was warped and bleached bone-white beneath a familiar white coat of paint – just like the ones covering the royal balcony. It’d become so brittle that the wind itself was tearing it apart, shredding the dead wood like paper, bit by bit, until it was torn in half.

And all the while, the grass beneath her was getting browner and browner. She actually watched a blade that was right under her nose wilt right before her eyes.

But… something was off. She couldn’t put her hoof on it, but something felt wrong. There was a sensation at the base of her horn; a tingling, electric buzz like static electricity. It was very subtle, but given how alien any sensations were around her pointed black horn, she picked up on it right away.

And as she looked around, she could’ve sworn she caught sight of something glimmering in the hazy windstorm, something that glittered green…

“Is anypony out there?” Applejack cried out at the top of her lungs, looking around desperately. She knew that the Sylphid was still nearby somewhere, hidden by the dust-ridden winds. But she was more concerned for the safety of her friends.

But just as she was starting to panic for real, she saw a shape move off to her right. “Applejack!” it cried, but it was impossible to tell who it belonged to. She couldn’t even tell if it was a pony or changeling – the wind was making it hard to make out a single word at all. “Are you alright?”

“Been better, but Ah’ll live!” she replied. “Where is everypony else? Can you see them?”

“A few,” the figure replied. “I have Twilight, Rarity and a few changelings here with me! I don’t know where anypony else is, though. Can you see Shining? I can’t find him anywhere!”

The more the pony spoke, the more Applejack recognized her voice. Somewhere off to her right was Princess Cadance, even though all Applejack could see of her was a vaguely pink shape on ground level, despite it just being a few feet away.

She was holding tightly to a length of a support column that’d gotten buried in the ground deep enough to anchor it in place. It wasn’t much in the way of cover, but at least it was something solid to hang on to.

Every now and then Applejack could just make out a purple shape almost underneath her, like Cadance had dove on top of somepony else to cover them. But as far as Applejack could see, they were the only other two souls around.

“Afraid Ah can’t see anypony out here,” Applejack said with a lump in her throat. She couldn’t see much of anything for that matter; it was only because of their close proximity that she could make out Cadance at all. “But Ah’m sure he’s doin’ just fine. Probably has his hooves full with everypony else!”

It was wishful thinking, but at the moment, she desperately wanted to be optimistic. 

“I… I suppose so,” Cadance responded, though her voice wavered a little. “I’ll just have to believe you’re right. Do you think you can make it to the sound of my voice?”

Applejack paused for a moment. Clinging to the ground was taking as much strength as she could muster. Moving? That would take even more, and Cadance was upwind of her; she’d be fighting tooth and nail against the the gale for every inch, and there were quite a few of them between the two.

But she had to try. Staying where she was – in the open, exposed to anything falling from the sky – was not an option.

“Ah’ll try,” Applejack shouted. It was the best she could offer.

She shimmied herself around so that she was pointed in the right direction at least, put one hoof forward…

Applejack felt the wind shifting all around her, as if the very eye of the storm had just passed directly over her. The wind changed direction so abruptly that Applejack was nearly thrown forward when it struck her from behind instead.

She chanced a glance up, but all she had time to register was the immense shadow looming over her before it thundered to the ground with an earthshattering crash only a few inches in front of Applejack’s snout, right between her and Cadance.

Applejack immediately recognized the stench wafting off of it; sour, rotting vegetation, like a compost heap in the middle of summer.

It occurred to her that perhaps she should’ve been a bit more mindful why the grass underneath her was so desiccated as she slowly turned her head, heart pounding a tattoo into her chest.

But now she was all-too aware of it as she craned her neck, following the length of the horrendous thing barring her path.

And there was the Sylphid. Its massive form, shrouded by a tornado of dust and a swarm of rapidly decaying debris, loomed over her; a nearly formless shadow darker than the hazy gloom around her, where the storm was at its most vicious. It undulated and gyrated on the spot almost gracefully, as if dancing. But there was nothing enchanting about what it was doing in reality.

As she watched, the Sylphid’s mandibles pried open wide, dropping another decayed piece of flooring, which was quickly torn to sawdust by the wind before the beast attempted to snap up something else to feast on. Applejack could see the worm’s eyes literally glowing with an otherworldly, crackling light, speckling the darkness with a small, iridescent constellation attached to a looming mass of darkness.

And maybe it was her imagination, but Applejack could’ve sworn she heard a buzzing in the air around her, one that had nothing to do with wings. The tingling at the base of her horn reached pins and needles, and though Applejack still had no idea what it meant, it was beginning to worry her more and more.

“Applejack!” cried out Cadance fearfully, “Are you alright? Oh, please tell me you’re still there!”

“Ah’m fine, Cadance,” Applejack shouted back. “But Ah can’t get ta ya, not with this tail in the way!”

“Don’t let it touch you, Applejack!” shrieked a voice that was even fainter than Cadance’s. Applejack had to strain just to hear whoever was speaking. “Just stay where you are! We’ll think of something to get you out of there!”

But while Applejack remained as motionless as she could bare, eyes fixed on the squirming, undulating flesh in front of her, she noticed the Sylphid pause out of the corner of her eye.

Applejack gulped, just as she heard that dreadful trilling again. She looked up, right as the Sylphid swooped its head in her direction, gleaming eyes turning on her; sightless, emotionless.

The good news was that its tail was dragged out of the way in the process by hundreds of stunted little legs. The bad news was that now Applejack had the other, much toothier end to deal with.

It moved its head so close to her that she could make out the foot long hooks at the end of each mandible. She could see the saliva forming long ribbons through the air as it was carried by the pounding winds. And beyond those mandibles, she could see a set of hinged jaws lined with wicked, pointed fangs and the lightless, yawning, squirming depths beyond.

Its glistening head was bigger than she was. One mandible was bigger than she was. With the alien, otherworldly light radiating from its dozens of eyes like floodlights, it was like staring down a train – granted, a train that very much wanted to devour her where she lay.

It seemed to regard her for a moment, head twitching this way and that while its long antennae tested the air around Applejack hungrily.

“Ah don’t mean ta rush ya fellas,” Applejack said anxiously, shuddering as an antennae tip brushed past her carapace, “but could ya hurry it up?”

A short ways away, Cadance was struggling to stand against the pounding wind. “Twilight, I need you to do something for me,” she grunted. It was taking all her strength to keep herself upright and not get bowled over.

The purple alicorn clung tightly to one of Cadance’s hind legs; the only grip she was afforded. She was trying to use one of her wings to shield her face from the wind, but her wings weren’t quite up to the task, and slowly but surely she was shifting centimeter by centimeter across the ground.

Rarity was not far off, huddled behind a mass of broken timber, affording her and a few cowering changelings a miniscule safe haven from the pounding winds that broke around it like a levy.

“What do you need me to do?” Twilight asked – shouted more like.

A surprise gust slammed into Cadance, nearly toppling her. She staggered, but held, her legs wobbling fitfully.

She muttered something under her breath – something Twilight just missed – and steadied herself once again. Cadance was in hardly more than a crouch, but any higher would prove too much for her.

“When… When I give the signal, I want you to cast the biggest, strongest shielding spell you can,” Cadance explained.

Twilight bit her lip apprehensively. “Against something that big? I… I don’t know if I can hold back something as big as that.”

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Cadance reassured. “You’re not going to be stopping the Sylphid. That’s my job.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide, first with alarm, then fright.

“I don’t think anypony can hold something like that back for long, but I can at least buy us a few seconds,” Cadance explained, “and that’ll be enough time for us to escape.”

“Are you sure?” Twilight asked nervously. “Maybe we should switch places.”

To her surprise, Cadance turned to look at her with a gentle smile. Twilight had seen that smile so many times when she was growing up. It was patient and kind, like the sorts of smiles the other royals and nobles wore, yet hers was so natural and genuine.

“Twilight, I’ve shielded an entire kingdom from harm for a day or two. I think I can handle an overgrown worm for a few seconds,” she chuckled amusedly, even through the strain in her voice from resisting the winds.

Twilight was hardly convinced. She stubbornly didn’t want to be, but the ever-present voice of logic in her head pointed out that Cadance had a fair point.

So, the best Twilight could manage was to hold her tongue. It was the best kind of acknowledgement she could muster.

Cadance smiled a little more, then turned her attention to the ones huddled a short ways away. “On my signal,” she shouted, “teleport Applejack to us, then we’re all going to move!”

Two of the changelings exchanged nervous looks. “If we do that, princess, the Sylphid will be on us within moments,” one of them cautioned her.

“I know,” Cadance said steadily. “Get ready!”

The changelings nodded, their warning given, their expressions hardening. Their fear of the Sylphid was considerable, true, but their fear of losing Applejack dwarfed it by a wide margin.  They tensed on the ground, teeth clenched tight.

Cadance took a deep breath, steadying herself.

At the same time, Applejack stared the monster down. The Sylphid continued to study her, its eyes like spotlights in the surging storm.

“Where’s a rope when Ah need one,” she grumbled to herself.

The Sylphid, uncomprehending, clicked its mandibles, then reared back, coiling to strike.

Applejack screwed her eyes shut and braced, just as the Sylphid lunged with a screech.

“Now!”

Applejack felt the ground beneath her disintegrate as a ring of emerald fire sliced open a hole directly beneath her. What she wasn’t expecting was the pair of hooves that shot up from below, wrapped securely around her barrel with a muttered “gotcha”, and yanked her down into the void beneath her.

The last thing Applejack saw of the Sylphid was its hungry maw descending on her, and if she’d been a betting mare, she wouldn’t have bet against the Sylphid.

The moment Applejack disappeared from sight, the portal slammed shut. In the next instant, several tons of exoskeleton, pudge and teeth plowed into the earth with a heavy thud that shook the square.

But the Sylphid kept moving. It didn’t stop, even for a moment, as it barreled around, multitudes of legs propelling it forward like an out of control freight train in a wide arc. Only, now its sights were set on Cadance and the measly group behind her.

The Sylphid was just about to lunge once more when two horns erupted with light; one violet, one sky blue.

Two walls of light coalesced in the gloom like a twin set of ripples, one on top of the other. The violet one bent around the whole group to take the fury of the storm head on. The sky blue one formed a curved barricade of hardened light between the ponies and changelings and the oncoming monster.

But it only took the two alicorns half a second to realize that something was terribly wrong.

Twilight realized it first, when the wind battering her body didn’t abate in the slightest, no matter how thick her wall of light became. 

And Cadance realized it when the Sylphid’s head passed straight through her shield like it wasn’t even there at all.

The shield didn’t break or fracture. It didn’t even distort. It was as if Cadance was trying to stop a shadow.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching for just a moment. She had no time to do anything more than lean instinctively away from the rapidly approaching, gaping maw.

Then, with a terrible wrenching sensation, the ground beneath their hooves disappeared.

Both Twilight and Cadance yelped as they felt something grab them about the ankles and yank them down, just a split second before the Sylphid’s heavy body came roaring past, missing them by mere inches.

Cadance and Twilight had absolutely no idea what was happening, until they witnessed the walls of a changeling portal snapping shut over their heads.

Both mares were pinned together as they were shoved through compressing darkness, and just as both were starting to believe that they were somehow still alive, they were thrown clear once more, producing a squeal from both.

Twilight braced, expecting to feel the lash of the wind hit her again… but nothing of the sort happened. She and Cadance plopped to the ground in an ungraceful pile of pony, a distinct ringing in their ears from the lack of even a breeze whistling through the air. Everything was so still that, for a while, Twilight wasn’t even sure how to adjust. It was such a system shock that she was sent reeling.

Twilight cracked open her eyes, completely baffled. There was grass beneath her – she could feel it – but they were motionless before her eyes. And, strangely, they were awash with the light of day.

“What in the world?” she mumbled to herself, completely at a loss.

“Are you alright, Your Highness,” grunted a voice directly beneath her.

It occurred to Twilight then that she was lying on top of something rather lumpy.

Twilight yelped again, this time jolting up, only to find a cloaked changeling lying sprawled on the ground beneath her.

“Yeah, you seem fine,” noted Cloak, nodding to himself.

“Cloak!” cried out the voice of Dagger in a panic directly beside them, “This pony is soft and fuzzy and I have decidedly mixed feelings about that!”

Both Twilight and Cloak turned at the same time, just as Cadance jumped upright, flushing, off of a panic-stricken cloaked form.

“I-it’s not on me still, is it?” Dagger asked nervously. “Did I get any on me?”

Cloak sighed a long, weary sigh. “And this is why you can’t stand being around ponies.”

“Sh-shut up,” Dagger jabbed back, jumping to her hooves. She buzzed her wings indignantly, scowling.

Twilight and Cadance exchanged bewildered looks, before another voice reached their ears.

“Twi’! Are ya alright?”

Twilight turned her disheveled head around, eyes wide, to find a pair of double-ringed, amber eyes looking back down at her with concern.

“Applejack!” Twilight gasped. “You’re alright!”

Applejack smiled slightly. She was a mess, truly – her mane was full of dirt and twigs and wooden splinters, and her usually jet black coat had developed the oddest brown film from all the dust.

“Sure am. How about y’all?”

“We’ll be alright,” groaned Cadance. “Just… don’t ask me to do that again.”

“Agreed,” Twilight added fervently. “But… where are we?”

Together, all three mares looked up, and beheld a rather perplexing sight.

All around them – by several feet at least – the air was calm and still. Sunlight poured down from above, through a hole in what lay just beyond their safe haven; a furious, pounding storm that howled like a wounded animal.

But it wasn’t like the storm was being kept at bay by something. It was simply… ending, then picking up again on the other side.

“What… is this?” Twilight said, hopelessly lost. “Is this some kind of… barrier?”

“I don’t know,” Cadance mumbled, “But, maybe –”

“Cadance!”

All three whipped their heads around at the same time. Only then did they notice the rather sizable crowd all gathered behind them. And at the front of the group was Shining Armor – dirty, windswept and a little nicked up, but otherwise unharmed.

Cadance let out the most relieving sigh of her life as she jolted upright and ran towards her husband. Poor Shining never knew what hit him when she tackled him right off his hooves and very nearly into the unsuspecting changeling behind him.

“You’re alright! Oh thank Celestia!”

“Hey, I should be saying that,” Shining complained, though his heart wasn’t really in it.

When Cadance showed no signs of letting him go, he chuckled ruefully and patted her head. “I’m fine, Cadance, really. Just like everypony else.”

It was true. Right behind him was a crowd of familiar faces and black forms.

Pinkie was bouncing around even more than usual, looking like she’d just gotten off the world’s greatest thrill ride. Fluttershy was comforting a hyperventilating Rarity, who was trying fruitlessly to find some way to articulate the state of her windswept, debris-filled mane and coat.

Princess Celestia and Luna stood a few feet away, counting heads and taking stock of injuries. After a moment, Luna swirled her tongue around her mouth, then sullenly produced a single leaf on the end of her tongue, much to her big sister’s amusement.

Roseluck was nursing a knee that glimmered with emerald light, but for the most part she seemed unhurt. She certainly hobbled quick enough towards Applejack.

“Your High—I-I mean, Applejack – sorry – I mean, are you alright? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

“Nope,” Applejack answered. It didn’t stop a swarm of changelings from making absolutely sure themselves, but she paid them no mind. “Rose, where in the hay are we?”

Roseluck started to say something, then paused halfway through. Instead, she only turned her head.

Applejack followed her gaze, straight towards the towering tent standing right behind her.

The fabric of the tent rustled lightly. The dense material moved in some unseen breeze, one that strangely appeared to be coming from within the confines of the tent itself.

The more Applejack looked at it, the more she realized that their entire safe haven from the raging storm was centered on that tent.

And there was something else in the air, something Applejack couldn’t place as being anything more than… familiar.

“What…?” Applejack started to say, eyes locked on the tent.

But a loud trilling interrupted her.

As one, everyone spun looked up, eyes turning towards the seething air currents just beyond their inexplicable sanctuary.

A constellation of glowing eyes looked back down at them from within the heart of the storm. In the darkness, it was all anyone could see of the Sylphid amid the tornado it’d wrapped itself in. It towered over them – even over the tent at their backs. One mouthful could’ve claimed three ponies in one bite. Was it possible that it was somehow still growing?

But the creature hesitated. It stared down at the gathered ponies and changelings with clear want, and it swayed its head this way and that, as if looking for some kind of an opening to strike through. But it made no move towards them.

Applejack stared back, waiting for it to attack, to throw itself against whatever was shielding them – to do something to finish the job it’d so stubbornly endeavored to finish.

But… it didn’t. The Sylphid stayed still and silent, watchful and little else.

“Uh… Anypony know what’s gotten into it?” Applejack asked apprehensively.

“I think I do.”

Applejack turned around a moment before Cadance rose to her hooves. The pink alicorn turned a solemn look on the vast shape of the Sylphid as she turned to face it properly, eyes locked on its glowing eyes.

“I think it’s time we put an end to this,” she muttered, and a split second later, she ignited her horn.

This time, the Sylphid reacted. Everyone gasped, tensing to jump out of the way as the Sylphid lunged with a screech at the boundary of their safe zone.

And with a sound like a cannon going off, a blinding flash of light cut through the square, slicing through the darkness that engulfed it.

Applejack felt a rush of air slam into her from behind as a wave of force washed over her and everyone around her. 

It hit the storm, and to everyone’s utter astonishment, blew it aside like it wasn’t even there.

And when it hit the Sylphid, the creature’s immense shape vaporized in a shower of light and magic. It dissolved right before Applejack’s eyes like a shadow being dispelled by the beam of a flashlight. It didn’t even get the chance to finish its hungry shriek.

All at once, the windstorm tore itself apart as the wave of light washed over it. Not even dust hung in the air afterwards. Debris that hung in the air dissolved in a shower of emerald sparks and something… darker.

But it also revealed the true devastation that’d wracked the square. 

As the storm was thrust aside, it unveiled the chunks of wood from the royal balcony that were scattered all over the place. Most were embedded deep in the ground in craters and gouged divots, giving the square a rather war-torn look. 

The thing that’d been the balcony itself had been smashed as if struck by a hammer, yet the wood around the impact spot seemed oddly scorched.

The grass all across the square had turned either a very unhealthy shade of yellow or withered to brown shrivels. Even some of the branches overhead looked diseased and unhealthy, as if stricken by a rather sudden onset of autumn.

But everything that was alive…

Applejack could only watch in wonder as the trees and vines on all sides of the square shimmered and shined like gemstones, reverberating with the force they’d been bathed in.

Stiffly, Applejack turned her head around, heart thudding heavily in her throat.

Something shined and shimmered within the depths of the tent, like the light cast from a rippling pool of water. It filled the entire square, rays of light piercing every shadow, every wisp of darkness that still clung to the air.

The Sylphid’s pervasive stink no longer clung to the air. Not even the smell of dust or smoke reached Appejack’s lungs. There was nothing but clean, clean air, and the lingering remnants of something… more.

“…Mama…?”

Applejack heard herself say it, but didn’t register the fact that it’d been her voice for another moment or two.

And a second later, the light faded away until there was nothing left by sunlight.

Applejack automatically lurched forward, taking half a step towards the tent, her heart jackhammering in her chest.

Something was there… something she needed to see…

“Get away from that!”

Applejack jumped in surprise, eyes turning every which way in alarm. But the one who’d spoken wasn’t even addressing her.

All three cloaked changelings were standing closely together behind her, encircling something lying in the grass. For some reason, they were keeping their distance, as if expecting the thing to suddenly strike at them.

A short ways behind them, Twilight had jittered back a step, clearly the target of the reprimand. 

And as Applejack watched, something was levitated up off the ground on a veil of emerald light.

At first glance, Applejack thought it was some kind of a rock shard. It was thin and irregularly shaped and made from some kind of glossy, jet black stone that twisted round and round like a screw. And for some reason, the tip seemed to be glowing with a dark, ominous light…

“That is not something I thought I’d ever see again,” murmured Cloak grimly.

“Nor something I ever wanted to see again,” Dagger growled, scowling worse than ever before. “Maker, just looking at it is giving me the chills…”

“Now is not the time to be grumbling,” snapped Antlion. 

“Um…”

All three turned around sharply, causing Twilight to cringe back a step again. “Uh… if you wouldn’t mind explaining, but… what is that? And what happened to the Sylphid?”

All three exchanged dark looks for a moment. Then, Antlion turned back towards Twilight. “What Sylphid?”

“Huh?” was all Twilight to respond to that with, blinking in confusion.

“What Antlion is trying to say,” Cloak said grimly, “is that there never was a Sylphid to begin with. What we all saw and felt; it was all an illusion.”

Everyone’s eyes grew wide in shock as they processed that. “That… that was all… an illusion?” Twilight repeated weakly. “But… but an illusion of that magnitude and strength would’ve taken so much magic and-and…”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Cloak said evenly, “just enough to trick our minds into thinking we were seeing what we were seeing and feeling what we were feeling.”

Twilight shivered at that, a memory of a dark doorway deep within the Crystal Empire creeping into her mind.

“This device,” he went on, eying the thing floating between him and the other cloaked changelings with dislike, “is called a Liar’s Tongue, and it was built exactly for that purpose. Think of it like a record player; if you know how, you can craft a scenario, a creature, anything you want. And it’ll be so real no one can easily tell the difference.”

“So, that’s why our shields did nothing?” Shining asked, eying the tiny needle warily.

“There was nothing for them to actually resist, so yes,” Cloak responded. “The balcony being destroyed was likely the doing of that blighted caller, whoever he is.”

“Whoever he was, once I get my hooves on him,” seethed Dagger furiously.

“But then why did everything die?” Applejack asked.

“That’s simple, Your Highness,” Cloak said. “This thing drew in all the ambient magic it could to power itself. That’s why they used a baby Sylphid, since they feed the same way, and not something worse.”

“W-worse?” echoed a suddenly breathless Fluttershy.

“You’re better off not knowing,” said Dagger grimly. “Just be glad changelings don’t scar. None of you would want to see what some of us look like if we did.”

Cloak glanced towards her, but she soundly ignored his look.

“If that is all true,” spoke up Princess Celestia, and she instantly gained everyone’s undivided attention. “Who could have made such a terrible device?”

Once again, all three changelings looked at one another with dark, knowing looks. “No one we need worry ourselves over anymore,” Antlion stated.

But Applejack had a very good idea who could’ve been twisted enough to even dream of something so cruel.

“Why would they use something like this?” Cadance asked uneasily. “What could they gain from scaring us with sorcery?”

The answer to her question did not come, however, from any of those present. It instead came from a terribly familiar voice booming through the streets like a seasonal well-wisher, completely contrasting the message it delivered.

“And so, now you all see what the Royal Court is capable of,” shouted the voice of the Court’s messenger. “And this was but a taste of what awaits you all if Applejack is not handed over to us. If Queen Applejack is not removed from Equestria or stripped of her crown in the next few days, it will not be an illusion that tears this country apart, piece by piece. We will be waiting.”

With that, his voice faded, leaving his words echoing in the minds of all those who’d heard them.

Applejack could only stand in place for several moments. And in those long, long seconds, it felt like the weight of the world had come crashing down on top of her.

A fuse had been lit, and no one – not even Celestia – could know how bad the consequences would be.

But then, Applejack gritted her teeth. The world hadn’t ended just yet. There was still time, and she was not going to go down without getting in a swing or two of her own. Applejack turned then, her jaw set, her shoulders squared. This was not going to go unanswered.

Her eyes immediately found Roseluck, who was looking at her as if she was on the verge of panic. In fact, nearly all the changelings were looking at her the same way, but Applejack ignored it.

“Rose, we need ta find Agave,” she said firmly.

Of all the orders Roseluck had been bracing for, that obviously wasn’t on the list.

“Agave?” she repeated.

Applejack nodded. “That’s twice now she tried ta warn me ‘bout somethin’.”

“I agree with Applejack,” Twilight put in. “She knows something about what’s going on. Why else would she tell AJ not to give up her crown?”

“Exactly,” Applejack concurred with a nod.

She then took a deep breath. She had to work now – had to get things done. It was the only way to keep her mind off of what’d just happened and the weight crushing her heart.

“Alright. Rose, go gather up all the changelin’s ya can and fan out across Ponyville. Best be quick; that messenger will have one heck of a lead on ya.”

Roseluck nodded, her expression hardening. But then she paused, unable to maintain her determination. “Applejack… about what the messenger said…”

“Later,” Applejack said dismissively.

“Alright,” Rose said softly, paused for a moment longer, then added, “Just… don’t forget. We'll be with you every step of the way, no matter what happens.”

Applejack hesitated, drawn up short. Then, she managed a slight, brittle smile. “Ah know, Rose. Thanks.”

Roseluck managed a weak, supportive smile in return, then she turned on her heel and took to the air, along with a small group of other changelings that shot out in every direction across the sky.

Applejack only watched them go for a moment or two, then she went back to her task of assigning duties. Even Pinkie stayed silent and listened, though she bore the most anxious look of them all.

“Twi’, Ah need ya ta do that thing ya do and organize a search party. Do ya think ya can do that?”

“Of course,” Twilight said with a nod. “But… what about you, Applejack?”

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” spoke up Antlion abruptly, “We’ll stay with her. Nothing will happen to her while we’re here.”

“Though,” Cloak noted, “someone should let the boss know what happened.”

“If you want to tell him our operation failed, then be my guest,” Dagger shot.

“I’ll send a letter to him,” volunteered Princess Celestia, much to everyone’s surprise. “I’m sure I can make him understand.”

“Then I shall organize the Guard, sister,” Princess Luna stated, followed by a large, jaw-popping yawn. “After a journey to the local café, I think.”

“Thank you, Luna,” Celestia said with an appreciative smile.

“Then I’ll go to the Guard Post to make sure everypony is doing alright,” Cadance volunteered. "Somepony should be there if the peace needs to be kept."

“So will I,” Shining added, and it was clear in his expression that he would accept no alternatives that did not include being with his wife.

“Well, that… works that out,” Twilight said, waving a hoof weakly. She then turned to the rest of her friends and cleared her throat. “Okay, then we’d better get busy, too, girls. Pinkie, you know everypony in Ponyville; see if you can’t find anypony that hasn’t seen Agave."

Zoom! Off shot Pinkie like a loosed bottle rocket, disappearing down a side street so fast the dust had barely enough time to be kicked up. 

Twilight barely even lost her stride, however. "Rari—er, Fluttershy, help Rarity get cleaned up, then the two of you search downtown."

Fluttershy nodded, then carefully coaxed a nearly catatonic Rarity into rising, then following her down another road. 

"Applejack, you’d best stick to the changeling district for a while until we know how the rest of Ponyville will react.” Instructed Twilight.

Applejack nodded, though inside she was squirming uncomfortably. Again she was visited by that crushing pressure, but she shoved it away; now was not the time or place. There was work to be done.

She was just turning to leave, however, when she caught the last of Twilight’s instructions.

“And Rainbow, you…” Twilight started to say, only to pull up short.

Twilight blinked, looked around, and then said something that struck Applejack like a javelin.

“Where’s Rainbow?”

~~***~~

With a groan, Rainbow’s eyes fluttered open. Yet, for the longest time, she couldn’t make sense of her surroundings. All she understood was that it was dark, and kind of uncomfortable.

It took her nearly five whole seconds to realize that she wasn’t lying on the ground. She wasn’t even lying, for that matter. She was upright at a very awkward angle, and for some reason, something was biting into each of her forehooves…

“Wha… where am I?” she mumbled, her eyes unfocused. “What… happened?”

A flash ran through her head. A massive shape looming over her, the wind whipping through her mane…

And suddenly, her mind snapped into focus. It was like a switch being thrown; all of a sudden, the haze in her head evaporated, and her senses hit the ground running.

“Applejack!” she gasped, instinctively lunging forward. Applejack was in trouble; she remembered that now! But when she went to rush off, something held her in place. The biting sensation around her hooves worsened, but did not give in the slightest.

In agitation, she turned to glare at whatever was stupid enough to hold her back… only to realize what was holding her at bay was a pair of wrought iron, thick-set manacles embedded in the wall behind her. They were holding her up just barely off the ground; too far for her hooves to touch, though she could feel floorboards against the end of her tail.

Rainbow’s eyes went wide in shock as the realization hit her; Applejack wasn’t the only one in trouble. Quickly she darted her eyes around, looking for the slightest hint of danger.

But what she found was a very, very odd sight.

The first and most immediate thing Rainbow noticed about the room around her was how alarmingly extravagant it looked. 

The rich, purple wallpaper could’ve just been set in place. The gold and lavender drapes lining the walls and windows looked to be worth more than all the worldly possession she herself possess. The glorious winged crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the gently domed roof sparkled with even the faintest of lights.

Every piece of furniture, from the red velvet lined couch, chair and sectional ringing the mahogany coffee table in the center of the room, to the wall-sized bookcases brimming with pristine tomes and codices, even to the shiny black piano set in one corner of the room, flanked on one side by a towering grandfather clock and a massive, boulder-sized globe on the other, looked brand new and very, very pricey.

Tendrils of smoke wafted through the air, carrying with it a woody, musky smell that filled the room – as well as filling Rainbow – with a sense of anxiety she just couldn’t explain, originating from half a dozen sticks of incense burning on the coffee table.

Not a single window was open. The only source of light came from the low-burning candle at the heart of the chandelier, and a single candelabra resting on an end table across the room from Rainbow that gave off an unsettling, wicked green light.

And it was in the light of that candelabra that Rainbow saw the shape of someone else; someone who instinctively filled Rainbow’s heart with dread.

A large, slender figure sat at a table by a window sheathed behind deep purple and gold curtains. Only one of her long, midnight blue forelegs was even visible from where Rainbow was, lit up by a sinister green candle flame flickering in the candelabra on the end table next to the chair itself. The pony’s form was outlined by a strange, eerie glow emanating from the other side of the chair – from something Rainbow couldn’t quite see.

For the moment, it seemed like the figure was lost in thought, like she wasn’t even aware of Rainbow’s presence. Rainbow gulped, uneasy. Perhaps it was just the scented smoke clogging her nose, but being in the presence of this single individual was unnerving her quite a bit.

So, she did the only thing she could think of; she confronted the problem head on.

“Wh-who are you?” Rainbow shot, only to curse herself internally for letting her voice quaver like that. “You better let me go right now, or else!”

The moment she spoke, the light coming from the other side of the chair was snuffed out, followed by a strange magical pop.

“Or else… what, I wonder,” spoke the figure.

She spoke in a soft, level tone as smooth as velvet, yet it carried a weight behind it. It was an authoritative edge that demanded respect, making Rainbow feel like she was nothing more than a brat standing up to someone her elder.

“As… amusing as it would be to find out, I don’t have the time nor patience for entertaining little fillies such as yourself,” she went on coldly.

“Yeah?” Rainbow shot. She refused to let herself be intimidated, no matter how many warning bells were going off in her head. “Then why am I here, huh? Whatever you want, you’ll never get it from me!”

“Is that a fact?” asked the mare almost curiously. For a moment Rainbow thought she saw the flash of something silver in the gloom as a head turned.	

“You bet it is!” Rainbow snarled with confidence.

The mare paused for a moment, thinking quietly. Then, she carefully rose from her chair.

Before Rainbow towered a tall, slender mare with sharp, piercing eyes. Her entire body was covered in blue fur so dark it was nearly black in the gloom, almost perfectly hiding her tall profile in the murk of the room. But the candlelight caught on the silver flow running down her neck and backside – a curtain of straight platinum hair so lustrous it seemed to be made from thin polished steel filaments.

She stood with such poise, such imposing grace that it felt almost terrifying. It wasn’t just the fact that she was so much taller than the average pony; the sheer, razor sharp curvature of her body and seamless, seemingly never-ending flow of the motions she moved with bore with it the presence of someone beyond parallel.

Her silver eyes flashed like polished platinum disks when she turned towards Rainbow with a look of complete superiority.

“We will see, little pony.”

Rainbow glared at her, trying to cover up how rapid her heart was pounding in her chest. “Y-you think you scare me?”

The mare stared back, her platinum eyes unwavering and relentless. Then, without warning, her entire body was wrapped in emerald fire.

Rainbow watched with widening eyes and tightening chest as the mare’s legs stretched and elongated still further as the fire ate holes through all four of them. Her entire body grew and stretched into a towering, lanky form that filled the pegasus with even more dread.

She watched as the mare's horn turned even longer and jagged, like a piece of volcanic glass. Her midnight blue coat turned to ash, leaving behind sleek, leathery chitin – save for a silver carapace clad across her narrow torso. Even though her mane and tail hardly changed in appearance, no one would’ve overlooked the moth-eaten holes that filled them both.

Gossamer, ragged wings exploded out of her back. Long, curved fangs extended past her lips. And finally, as the fires guttered out, she opened her double ringed, icy blue eyes to glare directly at Rainbow mercilessly.

“For your sake, pegasus, I hope I do,” the changeling queen said back, and her reverberating voice made it sound like there was absolutely no room for argument.

And the only thing Rainbow could offer in response was a low, “Oh… crabapples.”

The silvery queen fixed the still pegasus with a hard look, and then after a moment, she began to slowly stalk across the room towards the restrained mare.

“Perhaps introductions are in order,” the queen said coldly. “My name is Queen Aconita, though I highly doubt that means anything to the likes of you, or else you would be trembling much, much more.”

“I-I’m not trembling,” Rainbow protested. The sound of her own voice was enough to instill some semblance of indignant anger – mostly at herself for being such a scaredy-cat. “I bet you’re the one that attacked Ponyville, aren’t you?”

Queen Aconita paused for a moment, but only for a moment. “The only reason I’m here in this country is because of the one that brought this misfortune down upon your heads. I care little for any other… trivialities.”

Now it was Rainbow’s turn to glare. Her inner fire stoked, she threw Aconita’s look right back at her, bristling now.

“Were it not for her,” went on Aconita, “you ponies would be going about your little lives the same as always. Now, all of that will end because of one foolish little brat.”

That was the last straw for Rainbow. “Don’t you dare talk about Applejack like that you walking cheese-grater!”

But that was the wrong thing to do.

Rainbow felt a burning, searing force grab her by the muzzle and slam her jaws shut so hard it hurt, pinning them together painfully.

And the next thing she knew, she was eye to eye with a very unamused changeling queen, a hair’s breadth away from razor sharp fangs and crackling, burning horn.

“Hold your tongue, pegasus,” Aconita seethed, her breath hitting Rainbow in the face. “Had I no use for you, I’d be enjoying breaking every single bone in your brittle little body right… this… moment. Be thankful that that is not the case for the moment.”

And Rainbow held no doubt in her mind that Aconita wouldn’t do exactly what she was saying. There was a cold, detached edge to the changeling queen’s eyes that held absolutely no value or care for the one under her nose. It was a merciless, unfeeling look unlike anything she'd ever encountered before, and a small piece of her prayed she'd never find again.

“Your kind is always so quick to jump to conclusions,” she hissed. “It only shows how small a grasp you have in the situation you’re in.”

“What are you… talking… about?” Rainbow forced through her clenched teeth.

Aconita leaned in still closer, forcing Rainbow to cower back a centimeter. “I was not talking about your precious Applejack,” she whispered. "I couldn't care less about her. I am here for someone else."

Rainbow’s eyes widened in shock at that. Anything she could’ve said in response stalled completely. She was just too taken aback to adjust.

“And that leads us to why you are here, little pegasus,” hissed Aconita chillingly. 

“Where is Agave? Where is my daughter?”
	
> Chapter 6: Determination
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Princess Celestia strode purposefully down a wide, stone-laid path that wound up a gently sloping, grassy hillside bathed in early day sunlight.

She moved at a pace that forced the contingent of guards surrounding her to practically sprint just to match their princess’ strides, though not one thought of complaining. She rarely used the full length of her step, preferring instead to match the pace of everypony around her. But at the moment, she was too preoccupied to notice she was failing to do so now.

She paid no attention to the looming shape of a lopsided tower rising atop the hill she was climbing, or the Equestrian royal flags lining the pathway she strode down.

Her sister moved more easily alongside her, eyes forward, but routinely she glanced towards the blank, composed façade affixed to the Princess of the Sun’s countenance. Every time Luna looked towards her sister, a slight crease formed on her own brow, worry tugging at her heart.

Celestia didn’t meet anypony’s gaze. It was like she wasn’t aware of anything moving in front of her at all. Her eyes were unfocused and aimed at some unseen point far away on the horizon, beyond the nearing Guard Post. But her mind was not wandering in the slightest.

Celestia may not be hurt physically, but she’d been wounded, Luna could see that. The guarded composure in her face told the Princess of the Night that much at least.

“Sister,” Luna muttered softly, keeping her voice down.

Even so, Celestia jolted, her eyes refocusing in an instant. She snapped them onto her sister, then immediately relaxed.

“I’m… sorry, Luna. My mind was elsewhere. Is everything alright?”

Luna pursed her lips. “Should I be asking the same of you?” she asked in return.

Celestia paused, then almost sadly, the corner of her mouth turned down, her expression deflating ever so slightly. “I think we both know the answer to that question,” she said quietly, turning back towards the road ahead.

For a moment, her eyes unfocused, her mind boiling over once again. “… I should have listened to him more, shouldn’t I? If I’d taken the Spymaster’s misgivings more to heart, perhaps we would’ve been more prepared for something like this. If I’d convinced him to approach Applejack sooner, could we have avoided so much heartache?”

Luna didn’t answer immediately. She instead glanced discretely around, eying the twenty or so guards moving in a protective formation around them, but none were paying them any mind. Eavesdropping on the royal sisters was currently taking a backseat to keeping a wary eye out for any would-be attackers, and such a thing was not to their fancy to begin with. 

At their backs, Cadance and Shining were trotting close behind – Cadance with some reluctance and more than a few worried looks thrown over her shoulder towards the evacuated town behind. It was clear that, if she’d had her way, she’d be back there and not headed in the opposite direction. But Shining Armor was done with taking chances with his wife that day, and that was clear by the firm set to his scowl and close proximity to the pink alicorn.

Roseluck and her congregation had long-since rushed on ahead towards the distant shape of the Guard Post, leaving only a single cloaked changeling to follow the princesses. The last time Luna had seen Roseluck, however, she’d looked somehow more plagued with stress and worries than even Celestia did now, if such a thing was possible.

“I thought I was distracting the Sylphid,” Celestia muttered nearly under her breath, regaining Luna’s attention. “I thought I was keeping it distracted away from my little ponies. I should have been, if it’d been more than a phantom in the first place. Why couldn’t I have seen through it…?”

“The illusion fooled me as well, sister,” Luna admitted, her eyes flashing. “Do not belittle yourself over it.” For a moment though, her expression scrunched up with a hint of indignity. “I still do not understand why you had me stay back while you faced the Sylphid alone.”

Celestia turned a bitterly bemused look on the midnight blue alicorn. “Really? You cannot understand why I’d keep my younger sister, who I’ve been deprived of for a thousand years, out of danger?”

Luna frowned, looking like she had something she very much wanted to say to that, but in the end she bottled it up; there’d be time enough when they had some real privacy.

“But even so,” Celestia sighed, letting her gaze drift again, “it was all just a shadow designed to keep all of us distracted in the first place. But for what purpose? And to use such dark magic…”

A disquieted look crossed Celestia’s eyes. “How could the Changeling Court resort to such dark arts? Have I been too optimistic of late?”

A shadow moved over Luna’s face. “I do not know, sister, but I’m starting to suspect that there is something else going on here. The Court’s actions are too direct, unlike before, and too reckless. To give us forewarning goes against everything we’ve learned about them over these past months. They are arrogant, yes, but not foolish. The only reason they nearly bested us before was because they had the element of surprise, yet now they have completely cast it aside.”

Now it was Luna’s turn to have her gaze drift off to the horizon, a crease forming on her brow. “Perhaps I am making assumptions, but it seems to me that their vendetta against Applejack is just the tip of something much larger.”

Celestia nodded minutely. “My thoughts, as well. Why declare war, and why now? And Rainbow Dash… I fear that we are missing something very important, dear sister. And this is not a matter in which we can afford to be one step behind for long.”


~~***~~


Rainbow stared back at the set of frigid blue eyes that bore into hers from mere inches away. Even if she wasn’t shackled to the wall at the moment, she was too dumbfounded to make a move.

“Y-your daughter?” she repeated – almost squeaked, actually.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her brain was struggling to corral the seemingly senseless herd of thoughts stampeding around and around in her head, but… it just didn’t make any sense no matter how she processed it. 

It seemed like an impossibility – a joke, even. In any other situation, she might’ve assumed she’d heard wrong, or that somepony was trying to pull some poorly thought out prank on her. 

Agave – little, sweet Agave – related to this thing? There was just no way that sunny filly could be related to the towering, menacing creature looming over the pegasus like a cat over a mouse.

Rainbow was still reeling from the shock of being confronted by a fully grown, silver-maned changeling queen in all her terrifying regality; how was she supposed to adjust to this, too?

But the queen was real. For one thing, having said changeling queen standing nose to nose with her was far closer than Rainbow ever wanted to be to such an individual.

Rainbow could feel the sheer strength in Queen Aconita’s magic pinning the pegasus’ jaws shut hard enough to make them ache. And the feeling of the queen’s hot breath rolling over her muzzle… it was like each one robbed just a little bit of warmth from Rainbow’s very body – like she was slowly, but surely, going to freeze to death.

Queen Aconita was so close to her that Rainbow could see the micro movements in her eyes, even in the low light of the extravagantly furnished chamber. It was like she was reading the pegasus’ very thoughts through the back of her magenta eyes, scanning for the slightest nuance of deception.

Fortunately for the stunned pony, she seemed to wait, as if silently demanding a much better response from Rainbow. The imperious pause was just long enough for Rainbow to gather herself again, and even force her face to resemble something other than a scared filly.

“W-well, that’s news to me,” she said bravely, struggling to speak around clamped jaws, “and even if it wasn’t, why should I tell you where she is, huh? Y-you’re crazy to think I’d help out an enemy.”

Queen Aconita’s eyes narrowed slightly for a moment. If it was possible for the humorless changeling to become somehow less amused, Rainbow had somehow managed to achieve it. Rainbow braced, fully expecting a much more painful reprimand from before.

When Aconita moved, Rainbow flinched defensively, bracing for anything – only for the imposing changeling to turn away in a quick, sweeping motion.

“It appears,” she said with clear disappointment, striding away, “that I’ve overestimated you… somehow.”

Rainbow was too busy trying to calm her breathing to feel incensed at the insult; she was more aware of her heart trembling in her chest than the sting of being affronted. She had to buy time – stall, do something. Applejack would be looking for her, and so would everypony else. There had to be some way out of her situation – she just had to find it.

Yeah… no problem… yep… Just keep your cool, and you’ll be golden, Dash. Nothing to it…

Aconita still wasn’t looking at her. With the queen’s attention turned elsewhere, Rainbow tugged experimentally on one of her trapped hooves as discretely as she could. It was the oldest trick in the book; secretly slip one’s cuffs, wait for the right opportunity, and then make an awesome escape. If Daring Do could do it half a dozen times over the course of her saga, so could Rainbow.

But she quickly learned the difference between fantasy and reality when her hoof didn’t even slip inside the manacle. It was like the metal was glued to her coat. And by now, her hooves were starting to grow tingly from supporting all of her weight.

Queen Aconita continued to pay Dash no mind. It was as if she’d grown bored with the mare’s presence altogether. She seemed more intent on crossing the room towards an elegantly carved pedestal made from what looked to be jagged obsidian.

Wait… when did that get there?

As out of place as the pedestal was, Rainbow just couldn’t figure out how she might’ve overlooked it, especially since there was a single jet black candlestick resting atop it that emitted one of the few sources of light in the room – even if it was a caustic green, flickering light that seemed to make even the faintest of shadows dance. 

“I do not know if you simply wish to protect the child,” Queen Aconita said, her velvety voice sounding as blunt as a mallet, “or if you are simply an ignorant fool.”

After a pause, the burning green aura enveloping Queen Aconita’s long, twisted horn went out like a snuffed candle. To Rainbow’s immense relief, the vice grip on her muzzle relinquished its painful hold, leaving her teeth aching in her mouth.

Rainbow took a couple seconds flexing the acute pain out of her jaws before putting them to use. “Yeah? And why’s that?” she said, doing her best to sound as un-challenging as possible. It didn’t go well, and even Rainbow could tell that much.

But again, Aconita seemed to overlook the pegasus’ insolent tone. As Rainbow spoke, the towering changeling came to a stop right before the obsidian table, not even glancing for a second in the pegasus’ direction.

“Because,” Aconita responded without looking around, “the attack that took place today happened because of her.” 

Rainbow’s eye widened in shock, her blood running cold. “What?”

Aconita merely glanced Rainbow's way with a look in her eye that sent a shiver down Rainbow's spine. “As long as Agave is here in Equestria, she will continue to draw the Court's fury down on her and everypony around her. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can spare everypony from the consequences. Or, at the very least, your friends.”


~~***~~


Silence ruled over the changeling district; a jarring contrast to the usually hustling and bustling borough. Hardly even a leaf moved in the sprawling canopy above. Bell Peppers hung still and quiet on their vines, and flowerbeds sat motionless, like crowds of aghast spectators that were too scared to move.

But perhaps the most unsettling thing was the lack of commotion; the little buzzing wings, the voices chirping in the trees and down the alleyways, the younglings laughing gleefully as they played hither and thither in their own little worlds – all gone, their owners long-since fled.

To Twilight Sparkle, that silence felt so incredibly out of place, and even more unsettling for feeling that way to begin with. She kept catching herself looking this way and that while walking down an abandoned street, fully anticipating catching a glimpse of something black. Yet, she was only met with disappointment each time, and the longer she went without seeing anyone, the more she began to bite her lip.

The closest she got was when she spotted a couple of scraggly black stalks sticking up out of a garden in front of an empty home, or vivid blue flowers that looked – at first glance – alarmingly like Poison Joke that’d been lovingly decorated around a mail box. But all of those were poor substitutes for the real thing.

It felt so weird; seven or eight months ago, a fly buzzing in her ear would have put her on edge and her eyes scanning for those bright blue-eyed menaces that’d attacked Canterlot. Every time she so much as thought of a changeling, she imagined that terrible queen’s laughter, taunting her again and again in that crystalline cavern.

Now she found the lack of their forms… wrong, like a puzzle missing some of its pieces. Whenever she thought of changelings nowadays, it wasn’t a snarling, hissing or maliciously cackling beast that leapt to her mind. It was their bright, excitedly smiling faces that she thought of – always eager to please, always willing to help. The two images were so irreconcilable that it was like regarding two completely different entities altogether that were as different as day and night.

Such a change in such a short time span…

Again, Twilight shook herself as she trotted alone down the verdant lanes, horn lit and eyes sweeping this way and that. She had to remind herself once more to stay on task; now was not the time for thinking about such things. She had to stay focused, more than ever.

Come on, Rainbow… where are you…?

Ever since the fiasco with Vigil, Twilight had been practicing various forms of magically tracking her friends, some with slightly more success than others. It wasn’t an exact science – in some cases, she was becoming something of a pioneer, actually – and simply magically tagging each and every one of her friends like a herd of cattle was definitely not an option, no matter how much easier it could potentially make her life. But spells like that need to be renewed and maintained regularly, and the spellweaving involved…

She’d at least gotten it to the point where she could narrow down the general area of where each of her friends was based on their magical signature alone, but right now, generalities were not acceptable. It had worked just fine during the incident with Starswirl’s incomplete spell, but back then, their lives hadn’t been hanging in the balance.

In the back of her mind, she kept track of the rest of her friends. It was important to, or else their signals could easily get tangled together if she wasn’t careful.

Rarity and Fluttershy were, to no surprise to Twilight, on the far end of town, likely at one of their houses. As messed up as the fashionista’s appearance had become, it was unlikely they’d be moving anytime soon, but it was still worth keeping track in case that changed.

Pinkie Pie however… she was nearly impossible to nail down. The best Twilight could figure was that she was somewhere on the western end of town, but she was moving so fast and so sporadically that it was like trying to follow a faint blur of motion one had to squint at to even see.

But then there was Applejack…

Twilight bit her lip. She very much didn’t want to think about what the apple farmer was going through. She’d hardly said a word before she’d rushed off to find Rainbow, along with the rest of those cloaked changelings.

And the look on her face…

Twilight shook herself yet again. Stay focused, Twilight. You can worry about Applejack after you find Rainbow. She's only worried. All you have to do is follow the signal, and everything will be just fine.

And she had a signal, this was true. She could tell that Rainbow was indeed still in Ponyville… but that was it.

To her immense frustration and almost equal confusion, the tug on her horn seemed to keep changing directions radically, pulling her one way, then another, like the spell itself couldn’t quite make up its mind. She’d never experienced feedback like this before, not even with Pinkie, and it worried her to no end what it could mean.

Dash… Where are you…?

That was precisely the moment when she heard something clatter to her right, immediately followed by a small squeak.

On a normal day, the sound would’ve been minute and easily missed. Now, however, it seemed to ring out across the empty street, drawing out Twilight’s voice as well as she spun around to confront the source of that sound with a threateningly crackling horn.

She was met with the sight of an abandoned vendor cart set up on the side of the street, much like dozens of others around it. It’d been painted with all manner of pinks, yellows and baby blue swirls, and already it’d been set up for would-be customers. Bundles of the multi-colored cotton candy and caramel corn hung tantalizingly from several wracks on the sides, each one matching the color scheme of the stand.

Curiously, however, Twilight noticed an empty rack just near the bottom… and a small, shaded gap beneath it, just between the ground and the skirt that ran all along the front of the wheeled vendor stall. And as still as the air was, there was no reason for the corner to be swaying like that.

Twilight blinked, then carefully, she crouched down while tilting her head to one side to better see underneath the stall.

And there, in the dark, were a twin set of glints that inhaled sharply upon seeing the alicorn’s eyes.

“Agave?” Twilight spoke, inching a little closer and squinting her eyes. “Is that you, Agave?”

The form didn’t respond, but as Twilight grew closer, she thought she could just make out more of the small figure trembling in the shadows. She could just discern her tiny body, scrunched up as tight as she could get it in the cramped space beneath the wheeled vendor stall. About the only thing she could clearly define, however, was the fluffy, festively wrapped bundle of pink cotton candy the little filly seemed to be attempting fruitlessly to hide herself with.

What Twilight could see for sure, however, was the indistinct shape of the filly’s small fearful eyes… and the glistening streaks on the cheeks underneath them.

Agave sniffed a bit, doing everything she could to keep her voice down. Only her eyes peeked up over a bundle of pilfered cotton candy, but it was all Twilight needed to see.

“It’s okay, Agave,” Twilight said as reassuringly as she could, taking a step closer. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”

Agave didn’t respond right away. She watched Twilight for a moment, sniffing again, before her eyes drifted downward – to the fluffy sugar in front of her.

“I… I never got a chance to try some,” she muttered miserably. “There’s so much I wanted to try… so much I wanted to do. I just go so…”

Her head sagged, hiding behind the cotton candy, her trembling redoubling. “This is all my fault. It’s all my fault! I… I only wanted to… to help…”

Twilight felt her heart sag in her chest. Internally, the purple alicorn couldn’t help but wish Fluttershy was with her, or even Pinkie Pie. Little fillies just weren’t in her area of expertise, especially upset ones. 

“Why are you blaming yourself?” she said. “The Changeling Court is at fault here, not you. Why don’t you come out from under there so that we can talk about it, okay?”

Twilight saw Agave’s head move, and once again she spotted the shine off of the filly’s eyes. So, Twilight gave her best, supporting smile and extended one hoof. “Please? Nopony is mad at you, if that’s what you think. We just want to make sure you’re safe, I promise.”

Agave hesitated further, however. She eyed Twilight, glanced to the presented hoof, then glanced back up to her smiling face. “Are… are you sure?” she asked meekly.

Twilight nodded. “Of course!”

The filly continued to hold her gaze however. “… Cross your heart, hope to fly?”

Twilight nodded enthusiastically. “Stick a cupcake in my – ow!”

Agave, however, continued to remain motionless. She looked down, at nothing in particular.

It took her nearly half a minute to make up her mind, but when she did, she tentatively raised her gaze back towards Twilight, who was massaging one eyelid.

“Well… alright,” Agave mumbled at last. “I guess… I guess it’d be the right thing to do, anyway. Yeah… O-okay, I’m coming out.”

Then, very slowly, Agave began to scoot her way out of the tiny, confined space underneath the wheeled stall. 

Twilight was still rubbing her eye when a pair of jet black, hole-ridden forelegs reaching out into the open air, looking for purchase. They were soon followed by a fanged muzzle, razor sharp horn, the first locks of a precisely trimmed, peerlessly sapphire mane…

Twilight saw that, but for the longest time, she couldn’t quite make the connection. Drones didn’t have manes like that, but ponies didn’t have legs like that, either…

It wasn’t until Twilight witnessed Agave’s bright purple eyes come into contact with the outside light that it suddenly made sense. She watched as Agave’s pupils contracted under the ambient light, going from almond shaped ovals to razor thin slights corralled within a twin set of mulberry irises within moments.

It was a tight fit underneath the cart; even as slight as she was, Agave had to wriggle a little bit to work her midriff free, exposing a shining sapphire carapace that gleamed like a priceless gemstone, along with a set of gossamer, translucent wings. 

Twilight couldn’t help but stare, her mind abruptly grinding to a halt, as the small filly changeling queen picked herself up and stood in place, looking as vulnerable and frail as a wet kitten.

Agave couldn’t quite meet Twilight’s eye, but considering how motionless she’d become, Agave had a pretty good idea of what to expect.

“I… I-I guess it’s, um… it’s time to start talking, isn’t it?”

Twilight merely stared back, eyes far too wide for how small her pupils had become. “Yes,” she said in a voice a few octaves too high, “I think it is.”

Agave nodded, sniffed, then wiped her eyes roughly on one foreleg. “A-alright… Please, take me to Applejack. I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

For a long time, however, Twilight could just stare, her mind uncharacteristically blank.

A queen… a changeling queen… That didn’t make any sense. Yet there she was, clearly a changeling, but clearly something other than a drone.

Agave was smaller than Applejack, true, and there was absolutely no comparing her to the queen that’d attacked Canterlot so many months ago. She was shorter than Twilight herself, but not by much. Her short, precisely trimmed mane fell just short of her shoulders in a very straight, orderly fashion, regardless of a bit of recent ruffling and dirtying from her escape and subsequent concealment.

A simple green badge hung from her neck on a length of roughly spun twine. It was the only thing she was wearing, in fact – no crown, no nothing. Somehow, that fact made her appear even smaller and more insignificant than any other detail about her.

But the more Twilight stared at miserable little Agave – standing alone like some condemned pony on her way to her fate – the more she saw another changeling, standing amid the wreckage and ruin of a collapsed tower, her amber mane plastered to her neck and shoulders by torrential rain while a pair of raw, weary eyes turned to meet hers.

Howdy, girls…

Twilight bit her lip. There were so many concerns and warnings floating around in her head. There was so much confusion in her head – so many questions warring with each other. And yet…

“Alright,” she said at last, composing herself again. “Okay… I guess I’ll have to trust you, then.”

For the first time, the changeling’s eyes lit up slightly with barely repressed hope. “R-really?”

However, she faltered just as quickly when she noticed the look the purple alicorn was giving her. “But the only reason I’m doing that is because you tried to warn my friend,” Twilight said evenly. “I may not know all that much about changelings, but I do know one thing when it comes to queens; Applejack is the exception, not the example. So you’d better be on your best behavior. Understand?”

No pony in the history of Equestria ever managed to nod their head quite as frantically as Agave did the moment Twilight stopped speaking. Even so, the hope in her eyes hadn’t vanished. She had a chance now – an actual chance!

“Y-yes! I understand Miss Sparkle, or Your Highness or –,”

“Twilight is fine,” the purple alicorn said, and even as determined as she was to stay critical of the situation, she couldn’t quite fight back a single bemused sigh.

“R-right,” Agave said with a nod. “Twilight. I promise – Pinkie promise, even – I’ll tell you everything I know!”

“Well that’s too bad.”

Twilight hesitated only for a second, confusion quickly giving way to warning bells shrieking in her head.

In a split second, she registered three things; Firstly, that those words had not come from a suddenly petrified Agave, who’d frozen completely and utterly in place. Secondly, that the voice had come from a short distance behind Twilight herself, and thirdly – arguably the most important thing she could’ve realized at the time – that Agave had, in fact, been hiding for a very good reason.

Her next true warning sign was the sight of Agave’s ashen face getting very pale indeed as her eyes shifted towards something directly behind Twilight – something that was making her eyes grow in terror.

Twilight acted purely on instinct. In a flash, she and Agave disappeared, just as a bolt of acidic light seared a hole through the side of a cotton candy machine, exactly in line with where Twilight’s head had been.

Both filly and mare reappeared a few feet away with a loud crack, Agave behind Twilight, who stood at the ready – wings flared and horn presented towards the threat.

She found herself confronted by somepony who really didn’t look like they should’ve been a threat, and yet one she already knew from experience was anything but harmless.

It wasn’t some fanged and clawed beast, or weapon-wielding adversary who crouched before her. No; it was a rather stately-looking golden stallion with an immaculate, slicked black mane – and a very remorseless scowl on his face.

But what really sent a chill down the young princess’s spine was the feeling of a particular searing heat against the back of her head, like the lingering scald of an open flame she’d been sitting a little too close to. That spell, she realized, had most certainly not been a falsity.

“Well at least I don’t need to worry about whose side you're on,” Twilight shot bitterly, all the while holding her wings out in front of the little changeling behind her.

The stallion’s expression didn’t so much as falter. It was so unnerving – like Twilight was merely staring at a mask and not a real face. “It’s nothing personal, ‘Your Highness’. You’re just in the wrong place at the right time.”

He snorted quietly to himself, all the while eying Twilight like some trapped rodent. “Even so… I’m going to enjoy this. I may make the Queen of Queens angry by killing you… but I can at least die knowing I ended one of you pathetic princesses in time.”

Twilight’s ear twitched. “In time for what?”

The stallion only leered. “Something you won’t be living long enough to see for yourself!”

Without warning, he pounced, hissing like a savage beast as he sprang straight for Twilight.

There was only a few feet between himself and Twilight – too short a distance for the alicorn to perform any kind of complicated spell. Anything that would be coming his way – stunning spells, transfiguring spells, whatever this peace-loving mare could think of – would be hastily cast, and he’d already dealt with enough unicorns over the years to be able to handle anything somepony as young as Twilight could throw his way.

He did not, however, see the stall coming.

One second, he was leaping through the air, deadly focused on his target. The next, a few hundred pounds of timber, metal and sugar broadsided him like a freight train before squashing him against the side of a building with a mighty crash that sent bits of wood and nails flying in every direction.

Suffice to say, his response to that would not be forthcoming anytime soon.

Yet, the only one who could’ve possibly been more surprised than the unfortunate changeling twitching beneath a pile of rubble was Twilight herself.

She blinked, taken completely off guard, her charging spell fizzling out before it could fully manifest. Twilight straightened up, still completely at a loss. “Um… what just happened?”

Her answer, however, came in the form of crunching gravel somewhere off to her left.

Instantly she spun around, ready to face another adversary. Yet, the individual strolling towards her didn’t give off even the faintest sense of hostility.

He moved at his own pace, humming pleasantly to himself like he was simply out for a morning stroll.

But his black, chitinous body told a different story to Twilight, as did the countless holes in his slender legs and the ominous glow surrounding his razor sharp, crackling horn. But it was his eye-patch that really made Twilight’s skin crawl, as did the complete and utter lack of a badge hanging from his neck.

“Ah, there you are,” said the one-eyed changeling pleasantly, his gaze never once faltering from the on-guard princess. “Just the chicas I was looking for. Do you know how hard it is to find two ponies in a town this size?”

“Who are you?” Twilight shot warily, assuming a ready stance.

The changeling actually halted, as if completely disarmed by the alicorn’s behavior.

But what happened next completely took Twilight by surprise. For the one to move next wasn’t her, or the cyclopean changeling. No – it was Agave.

“Cassava!” she cried, her voice filled with relief of all things. And before Twilight could think to stop her, the small changeling bounded past her, scampered towards the new intruder and gave him a great big hug around the neck.

“I knew you’d find me!” Agave cheered, all the while the changeling she’d called Cassava chuckled almost sheepishly.

“You certainly didn’t make it easy for me, Your Highness,” he said with a polite smile. “Next time, stick to our plan, okay?”

“Oh… Sorry…”

“Hold on, you two!” cried Twilight in exasperation.

Both changelings looked up then, as if only then realizing that there was a rather indignant princess standing in their midst.

“Would one of you please tell me what the hay is going on?! Who the hay are you, anyway?” Twilight cried, thrusting a hoof at the one-eyed changeling.

To that, he simply took a bow. “Forgive me, potra maniática. Where are my manners? I am called Cassava, servant to Queen Aconita and, more importantly, Princess Agave’s personal guardian.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. Call her crazy, but she had the sneaking suspicion that she’d just been insulted.

As he straightened up, Cassava flashed a big, cavalier smile full of sharp, pointy teeth. “Now… how about we go find your friends, yes? I think we have quite a bit to discuss, and if I’m not mistaken, a pony to find.”


~~***~~


A million and one thoughts raced through Rainbow’s mind, each one jumbling up the last. She could only really stare at the towering form of Aconita, trying in vain to make all the pieces fit. 

The problem was that it wasn’t like trying to fit a square block through a round hole; it was like taking all the blocks and trying to force them through the same hole at once.

“Agave?” Rainbow replied, failing quite spectacularly to cover up her confusion. “What could Agave possibly do to get the Court so angry at her?”

Aconita glanced over her shoulder at Rainbow, and with a single look, silenced her. In the low light of the eerie room surrounding Rainbow, she could only really see the reflection of the ghostly candlelight striking her piercing eyes glinting out of a blackened silhouette.

“She is a child,” Aconita stated tersely. “Children are never fully aware of the consequences of their actions. In choosing to come here based on some… misguided idealism, all she has accomplished has been to force the Court into action.”

Rainbow couldn’t help but frown back at Aconita. Instead of giving answers, each word the changeling said only created more questions in need of answering.

“So, wait,” Rainbow started slowly, “because your daughter’s here… you decided to start a war? Am I missing something? Cuz, that doesn’t make any sense.”

Aconita did not answer right away. She did, however, scrutinize Rainbow still further in a way that made the pegasus squirm. “And what do we stand to gain from a war?”

Rainbow’s brow only furrowed more at that. “Why are you asking me?” 

For some reason, Aconita’s eyes narrowed slightly at Rainbow’s response, as if her response had been far from acceptable. Then, after a moment, she slowly began to circle the obsidian table like a slinking panther.

“Make no mistake; Applejack is the main priority of the Court. But my foolish daughter’s presence here has jeopardized a plan that is nearing its final stages. And the Court does not tolerate interruptions of any kind.”

Rainbow frowned at that. She hastily tried to scour her brain in order to put the pieces together. The Court was after Agave because she knew something… something that could unravel their plans for Applejack. But what? And what was the Court’s plan?

For a moment, Rainbow remembered how Agave had shouted at Applejack just before all Tartaurus broke out. But what had she said…?

Unbeknownst to the pegasus, however, Aconita continued to watch her out of the corner of her eye with an unreadable, dissecting gaze.

“So,” Rainbow said at last, forcing herself to meet the queen’s eye at last, “That must mean you’re here to deal with her yourself, then Applejack, huh?”

An unpleasant look crossed Aconita’s features, stymieing any further questions from Rainbow, at least for a time. 

Yet, after a moment, the only thing Aconita did was stop on the opposite end of the table from Rainbow before turning her head face the mare.

“Yet again, you are mistaken,” Aconita said shortly, “Unlike the rest of the Court, I want my one and only heir to remain alive. And I will not have her gallivanting around with Applejack, chasing after rumors while throwing my legacy in jeopardy in the process.”

Rainbow ears picked up at that. Rumors? What rumors?

But before she could figure out some way to work the answer out of Aconita, a truly sinister look crossed the changeling queen’s eyes that put the hairs on the back of Rainbow’s neck on end.

“Applejack, on the other hoof, is a different story.”

Rainbow tried to fight back her glare. It was hard, but that warning voice in her head was back; now was not the time to pick a fight. Then again, if she angered the changeling queen too much, the result would likely not be called a ‘fight’.

Once again, Aconita paid no mind to the pegasus’ reaction. She continued to eye the table as if searching for some sort of imperfection to hold against it.

“Bothersome as Applejack has become,” Queen Aconita said, speaking while slowly pacing around and around the table again, “she has no concept of what it means to be a changeling queen. No matter the strides she has taken, she is – ultimately – flawed.”

Rainbow was glaring before she could stop herself. “Yeah, she sucks at your way of ruling. You want to know why? It’s because she’s –”

“Nothing like us?” Aconita suddenly shot, eyes snapping up towards the pegasus again while her voice abruptly became very sharp indeed. “Is that what you think? Do you believe that, because she lives among your kind, she has nothing in common with her own race?”

Rainbow hesitated, caught off guard. “Um… yeah?” she asked, though there was confusion in her voice.

A cold look crossed Aconita’s features. “Then you are just as wrong as Applejack is.”

Rainbow’s heart clenched in her chest, causing her to inhale sharply.

“You will learn, just like she will,” Aconita hissed in a low, cold tone. “There is only our way.” 

In one fluid movement, Aconita came to a halt. And without missing a beat, her long, gnarled horn ignited with a caustic, humming light.

Rainbow braced, expecting the worst. But this time, Aconita’s magic was not meant for her.

Almost reverently, Aconita’s crown rose off of her platinum head, carried by a burning green aura of magic. It floated through the air, before stopping only a foot or so over the center of that black, glassy table.

“The world Applejack envisions,” Aconita said softly, her eyes falling on her crown. “Is nothing but an illusion.”

All of a sudden, Aconita’s horn flared brighter than ever, magic leaping off of it like actual flames. Her eyes surged with burning light as the very air around her started to reverberate.

And then, only a heartbeat later, Queen Aconita’s crown exploded.

Rainbow yelped as changeling fire shot towards the ceiling, towards the obsidian table and everywhere in between. It was as if Aconita had thrown open the hatch to a blast furnace.

But as Rainbow squinted against the burning, blinding light that’d grown to fill the room, she began to make something out within the fire’s heart.

Aconita was still there, unfazed by the flames licking across her body. And right in front of her – at the very epicenter of the firestorm – something was glowing with a superheated, white-hot light amid a shattered nebula of black shards… something round…

“Do you see?” asked Aconita’s voice, and when she heard it, Rainbow jumped. It was so clear, as if the queen were whispering right in her ear. “You may slightly understand changelings. But what do you know about queens, pegasus?”

Rainbow’s heart was jackhammering inside her, as if trying to break out and escape in terror.

Something was terribly wrong with that thing, she could feel it. Just seeing it made her skin crawl; she didn’t want to be near it, not even this close. It wasn’t just the way the shadows danced along the walls like fanatical worshippers. It wasn’t even the way the epicenter of the fire pulsed rhythmically with light, pounding in Rainbow’s ears. It was something else that ate at Rainbow – something far more primordial.

“What do you know of power, or the ruler’s mantle?” shot Aconita disdainfully. “What do you know of magic ancient and potent enough to shape an entire species? Love is what gives us strength, yes, but we are the ones that drive us forward. We are the ones that carry the weight of our entire race upon our shoulders. Our will is their will – our happiness, our sadness, theirs. We maintain control so that our people do not rip themselves apart in savagery.”

Suddenly, Aconita turned her head to one side, and when a transfixed Rainbow turned to follow her gaze, she about jumped out of her skin.

Changelings were appearing all around her. Rainbow could hardly see their bodies, even in the blinding light of the burning crown. All she saw were their cold, heartless eyes gazing out from behind the curtains lining the walls.

There must’ve been dozens of them, perhaps more. As if responding to some unknown signal, they materialized as if the curtains obscured a much, much more vast room than Rainbow could’ve ever imagined.

“Queens exist to rule,” Aconita stated with absolute finality, like a judge handing down a sentence. “Drones exist to serve. These are facts of nature that transcend ideals, motives – what have you. There is no alternative.”

Aconita’s horn flashed brighter still. The flames roared at a deafening pitch… And all at once, it was over.

Like a vacuum, the flames erupting out of Aconita’s crown were very swiftly and very suddenly sucked back in like an explosion in reverse.

The moment the fires had withdrawn, the shards swarming around the crown’s heart shot together faster than the blink of an eye. And just like that, Aconita’s crown reforged itself, and darkness ruled the chamber once again.

A lingering glow emanated from within the crown itself, like a superheated coal that was slowly but surely cooling once again.

Rainbow’s ears were ringing in the sudden silence. Her breaths came out a lot more feverishly than she’d thought, and no matter what she tried, her pulse would not settle down.

After a moment, Aconita magically lifted her crown back atop her head, just as the last bit of light faded from it. She acted just as before – calm, regal, and in Rainbow’s eyes, very scary.

“Make no mistake, pegasus,” Aconita said evenly, filling the deafening silence in the room, “one way or another, Applejack will come to realize this for herself. And when her hour of advent comes, it will be her undoing.”

Rainbow’s eyes got huge, her breath freezing in her lungs. “W…What?”

Aconita returned her gaze to Rainbow, and through the burning sheen coating the queen’s eyes, Dash just thought she saw the shape of Aconita’s eyes glaring mercilessly straight towards her. 

“Applejack will either submit to her – to our – birthright,” Aconita stated decisively, “or she will fail, and someone else will rise to take her place.” 

Rainbow’s gut jolted almost painfully inside of her. Before she could stop to think about what she was doing, her body bristled – her muscles tensed, ready for action. For a moment, she couldn’t understand why her wrists hurt so much, until she realized how much she was pulling against their restraints. “What did you say?” she snarled.

The fear was ebbing away. Something else more potent was rising to take its place, and it burned in Rainbow’s veins like lava.

“Sooner or later,” Aconita said – almost purred –, indifferent to Rainbow’s building hostility, “Applejack, Equestria, our pilfered drones… it will all resolve itself, and we will have Applejack herself to thank. She will either rise to our ranks, or she will die.”

“Shut up!”

It took Rainbow a second to comprehend how loud her voice had exploded out of her, but even then, it was only a background observation not worthy of her time. Her rage was in full control, smashing aside any warning or cautionary instinct inside of her. “You think Applejack is going to fix all your problems for you?! Well think again! She’s a thousand times better than every last one of you put together, and the day she helps you monsters out is the day Tartaurus freezes over!”

“Is that so?” Aconita responded, only now her tone was absolutely frigid.

“Yeah!” Rainbow said back, defiant and resolute. Nothing would dissuade her now – not even the terrified quaver to her heart.

Aconita’s eyes narrowed in a look that seemed to chill the very air. Again, Rainbow heard the warning bells tolling in her head, but she ignored them. She was incensed – too incensed to think straight. At least, until Aconita spoke once more.

“Tell me, pegasus. How are Applejack’s growing pains?”

Rainbow faltered at that, missing a beat. Unfortunately, that was the only, miniscule window Aconita gave her to respond.

“Have they reached her knees?” the changeling queen shot, advancing towards the helpless pegasus with each question she fired off. “Her shoulders? Perhaps her back, or maybe her horn? How is her temper; her patience? How has her magic been behaving? I will ask you again, little pegasus – How much do you know about being a changeling?”

Aconita shot each question so quick that Rainbow had no way to saying anything to them – if she had an answer for them to begin with.

Her assault of questions rattled around Rainbow’s head, rattling her in turn. Her rage failed her in confusion, caving beneath the queen’s onslaught. Because, deep down, her words rang a bell.

“You see now, don’t you?” 

Rainbow jumped when she suddenly realized how close Aconita was. She’d closed the gap between them with relatively few, long strides, until there was nothing between them but a few spare inches of open air.

“You don’t have all the pieces. You’re starting to understand that you, little pegasus, know nothing but your own assumptions,” Aconita hissed.

For a moment, Aconita’s eyes flicked down, as if reluctantly taking in the dark changeling armor still clad across Rainbow’s chest. She didn’t bother hiding her disdain at the sight of a pegasus wearing such a thing, either, like it was some great insult she was only just above addressing.

Rainbow flinched when she saw Aconita raise her hoof, and then slowly graze it over the pegasus’ breastplate – so slowly, as if considering just what to do with it.

She could feel the pressure of Aconita’s hoof, even through the solid metal of the breastplate, and the rasp of it dragging ever so slowly over the armor plating jarred Rainbows already frayed nerves.

“If you are so determined to chase Applejack into our world,” Aconita added quietly for only Dash to hear, “you had best learn that lesson as well.”

Rainbow’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, like it was writhing in agony. She tried her best to throw Aconita’s words out of her head – to not let them fester in her mind. But even as she tried, a memory bubbled up from deep within her – a memory of a cloud, and a sunset.

It means… after Ah shed… Ah ain’t gonna look like a pony in this form no more… Ah ain’t gonna look like me no more…

Pff, what are you saying…?

“All I need to know is who Applejack is,” Rainbow said, her voice uneven but her balance regained, if only just. “It doesn’t matter how much I know or don’t know; Applejack will always be Applejack, and I know more about her than you ever will.”

Aconita actually raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? And what if she were to turn on your friends? What if she were to crush Equestria under her hoof? Will you remain so confident in your allegiance?”

Rainbow didn’t even miss a beat. “There’s not a doubt in my mind.” she shot, steady now. “And that’s because I’ll never let that happen. I will never, ever let Applejack go! And if you… you… nags think you can take her from me…”

She glared at Aconita – actually glared, her eyes burning with rage and hate unbounded by any self-control while leaning even closer towards the queen. “Good luck,” she snarled dangerously. “You'll need it.”

Aconita didn’t seem to react to Rainbow’s declaration. For a moment, she looked at the steadfast mare, her piercing gaze unflinching and unblinking, as if judging her every little action.

Even after everything she’d said, Rainbow hadn’t waivered in the slightest. If anything, it was like her convictions had grown somehow stronger.

Aconita stared at Rainbow, and Rainbow stared back – determined, unwavering, daring the queen to challenge her, even as turmoil raged behind those magenta eyes.

The silver-maned queen’s eyes narrowed, her patience reaching the end of its rope at last.

“If that is what you believe, pegasus—”

“You better believe it is,” Rainbow hissed, but Aconita ignored her.

“—Then I have no more use for a fool like you.” The changeling queen finished with threatening finality through pursed lips. And in the next moment, her long, jagged horn combusted with fiery green light.

Rainbow braced, but she was not about to give Aconita the satisfaction of seeing any more fear in her eyes. If this was going to be how it ended, she would face it with—

clunk

Rainbow heard the sound, but by the time she thought to look towards its source, she was falling. Like a sack of potatoes, she collapsed onto the ground in a heap of very confused pony.

She blinked, completely taken aback. She was lying on the floor – she could both see and feel the carpet underneath her – but it didn’t truly hit her what’d happened for several long, long moments.

She glanced back over her shoulder, but sure enough, there were the manacles – still bolted into the wall, right where they should’ve been. Only, now they were unlatched – and not fastened around Rainbow’s hooves.

Then, slowly, she glanced around in the other direction, towards the looming shape of changeling queen standing menacingly over her.

Aconita’s face was unreadable behind its cold, stony demeanor. She only stared down her muzzle at the pegasus like she was some annoying rodent that'd dared cross her path.

After a moment, her horn flashed again, and with a resounding bang, the doors behind her were thrown open so hard they nearly bounced shut again.

“Go, then,” Aconita prompted, jerking her head over her shoulder towards the unbarred exit. “Go. Try proving me wrong; it will not matter. Deny it if you must. Struggle against it if you wish to waste your time, as I’m sure you will. Applejack will forever be out of your reach, and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

Aconita took a menacing step forward, lowering her head like a stalking predator. “There is nothing you can do to save her from herself.”

Rainbow’s heart had been pounding so hard for so long already – yet, in that moment, it reached a thunderous pitch unlike anything before. It pounded like it was trying to physically escape her by beating its way past her rib cage, and each thump sent a wave of pain, adrenaline and burning determination rushing through her system. “Bull.” she snarled through clenched teeth in a low, vicious growl.

She did not spare Aconita second look. She didn’t wait for her to fill her head with any more poisonous words, or change her mind about letting the pegasus go.

In one move, Rainbow rocketed herself out the open door with all the strength she possessed. She didn’t take in any of her surroundings – not the dusty old corridor, the bare walls and floor – any of it.

Her heart was bashing itself against her rib cage. She had to find Applejack right now. She was going to prove Aconita wrong – no matter what.

That resolution cemented itself into her heart. It wasn’t a burning, roiling fire or frothing surge. It was solid, unyielding – ironclad. Aconita was not, under any circumstances, going to be right. She was not going to take Applejack away from her!

There was a door at the end of the corridor, blocking her path – temporarily. Rainbow didn’t slow down in the slightest; in fact, she only registered the obstruction long enough to put on an extra burst of speed as she struck the door hard enough with her hooves to bash it to pieces.

And just like that, she was in the open air again.

Rainbow reeled for a moment after having the sunlight hit her right in her face, nearly throwing her right out of the air with surprise. 

But it only lasted a moment. 

Instead of braking, Rainbow shot up over fifty feet into the air before she bled too much speed and had to come to an anxious hover.

Her head whipped this way and that in order to get her bearings as fast as possible. She could easily tell that she was on the edge of Ponyville, what with the thatched roof skyline right in front of her.

She only paused for a moment however. She turned herself in the direction of the rising sun – towards the heart of Ponyville, before she took off at top speed with only one, Stetson-wearing thing in mind.

And she didn’t once look back towards the dilapidated house with the sagging roof and cracked, grimy windows she left behind.


~~***~~


Queen Aconita stood in silence, watching the open door with a speculative eye. Whatever occupied her mind, she let none of it show itself in her features. She merely watched the door, as if expecting someone to walk through it at any moment.

But she was not alone for long.

A shadow peeled itself away from the wall, slipping out from behind a deep purple curtain.

For a moment, Vanity glanced towards the door, then turned a deeply troubled and confused look towards the motionless queen.

“You… you let her go? After telling her so much?”

Aconita ignored her soundly, however.

So, Vanity took a quick step forward, looking anxious. “Your Highness, if Rainbow is allowed to reunite with Applejack and tell her and her friends what she's learned here, they’ll never let Princess Agave out of their si—”

And then Vanity’s eyes got huge as realization struck her like a lightning bolt.

Aconita did not move. She did not speak. She merely stared after Rainbow Dash with an unsettling glint in her unfathomable, chilly eyes.
	
> Chapter 7: Desperation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Twilight was having one of those days, the kind that she had only once in a while. It was the kind of day that typically ended with a magnificent mushroom cloud and a large degree of collateral damage – something she’d learned from personal experience, actually. It was the proverbial end of her rope, reached only when plan after plan had fallen through – from the grand to the mundane. That, unfortunately, fit the description of how her day had been going to the tee, and it was starting to make her very cranky indeed.

First, the Summer Sun Celebration was interrupted by a catastrophe – again – and second, Twilight found herself caught in the middle of some plot that likely held the very fate of Equestria in the balance – again. At this point, such events happened so often one would think she would build up a tolerance for whenever they arrived.

At present, however, Twilight found herself confronted by something admittedly less common that was, admittedly, throwing her for a loop. It didn’t come in the form of some ancient artifact or imposing monster, either. Oh no, it came in the shape of a small, sapphire-maned changeling hardly bigger than a filly shuffling along slightly ahead of her – where she could keep an eye on its every move at the very least.

A changeling queen… of all the possibilities she could’ve encountered, that had not been high on her list. Somewhere near the bottom line on her darkest, most macabre of scenarios, perhaps, but nowhere near the top end of her more optimistic list. When she thought of queens, they were easily broken up into two groups; Applejack, the somewhat awkward but kind-hearted and open queen, and… well, everyone else; cold-hearted, calculating and sinister in the extreme. Sure the definition couldn’t exactly be called scientific classification, but considering how the average drone reacts at the mere mention of a name like Chrysalis, She didn’t feel entirely off target.

Yet here was Agave – clearly not Applejack, but also not fitting the ‘everyone else’ category, either. For one thing, she was listening to orders, and another, she wasn’t cackling like a complete lunatic. Like every queen Twilight had encountered before her, her appearance was shocking, and left her brain scrambling for answers – more so than it already had been, after having already been subjected to an illusory airship and an equally fake monster larva.

Frankly speaking it hadn’t quite sunk in yet, which was perhaps a good thing; the truth of Twilight’s situation left her feeling blindsided and disoriented, leaving the whole situation feel no more real than a particularly vivid daydream. But given a few more minutes, that could very swiftly – and very roughly – change, and then she could probably kiss any further mental computing power goodbye for the next few hours while she proceeded to have a full on mental breakdown.

It was for that very reason that they were hastening through the deserted streets, one goal in mind; to find Applejack before Twilight truly lost her marbles. Granted, Twilight didn’t tell either of her two companions the last part to the plan – she thought it prudent to leave that particular detail out – but thankfully, neither of them seemed to be in much of a position – or disposition – to ask too many questions.

Agave did have one query, however. She kept glancing over her shoulder at her apprehensively, as if needing to build up the necessary courage to coax her voice past her lips. Finally, after several minutes of floundering, she finally forced out a squeaking sound, which quickly turned to actual words. “U-u-um… Miss Twilight Sparkle, Ma’am…”

Twilight sighed, her demeanor softening despite herself. When she looked back on today, making a filly so scared she could barely talk to her wouldn’t be high on her highlights for the day.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Agave,” she said, automatically offering a benign smile. “Twilight’s fine. Is something wrong?”

Agave swallowed, now trying to rearrange her carefully planned out dialogue to fit with Twilight’s question. “Um, I was just wondering where we were going, that’s all. It feels like we’ve been out here for a really, really long time.”

Twilight frowned at her, looking a little confused. “But it’s only been a couple of minutes.”

“I know!” said Agave so emphatically that it took Twilight by surprise. It didn’t take her long to realize her outburst, however, and after a momentary pause she was one more shrinking submissively into herself. “Er… sorry.”

Twilight inspected Agave quietly. Perhaps, she realized, she was not the only one feeling a tad impatient at the moment. In Twilight’s case, it was for the multitude of questions threatening to break down her mental faculties like a wrecking ball, but for Agave, it was her immediate future that was hanging in the balance.

Twilight was trying very hard to remain neutral in her case, at least until she learned more, but… it was proving very hard to not at least sympathize with the poor thing. Either she was a stellar actress well beyond her years… or she had a better heart than Twilight was giving her credit for.

Yes, being unbiased was proving very hard at the moment.

“Applejack can’t be far,” Twilight said, returning her gaze to the path ahead. “The district isn’t very big. I’m sure we’ll run into each other… sooner or later.”

Admittedly, it wasn’t the best plan, she knew that. But for one thing, she didn’t feel comfortable leaving herself so vulnerable to present company while she concentrated on the necessary spells. She may be bordering on sympathetic, but she wasn’t in any way close to being complacent.

And regardless, if she knew Applejack, she wouldn’t be sitting still in a situation like this, which would make pinning her down a very arduous task. Especially if she was looking for Rainbow…

Rainbow… I hope you’re alright… Just hold tight; we’ll find you, I promise…

Twilight didn’t realize how engrossed in her thoughts she’d become until another voice spoke up, cutting through the silent, wooded pathway.

“Not to be that pony, but is wandering aimlessly through the district the best use for our time?”

Cassava had been dutifully remaining silent up until that point, and even then, he looked simply like a changeling out for a leisurely stroll around town. He might as well have just inquired about where they were intending to eat brunch, or some other benign triviality.

He’d even hummed in an undertone a few loose strings of a song only he knew, and likely one he’d invented on the spot for how inconsistent it was. Even so, for the longest time, it’d been the only sound to be heard besides shuffling hooves across gravel and grass, so it was not like his presence had gone unnoticed. 

The only thing that ruined the whole non-threatening image of was the totally conspicuous body lying strewn across his back like some comatose duffle bag. All in all, Cassava seemed a little too accustomed to carrying bodies for Twilight’s taste. 

He was only giving Twilight his eye patch and an annoyingly benign smile to look at when he kept his head turned to one side, which made him unexpectedly hard to read. He might’ve even appeared harmless, if it wasn’t for the body slung across his back, but Twilight knew that he was anything but, or at least she suspected it. She couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, but there was something… disconcerting about him that kept the little hairs on the back of her neck on edge and her eyes never far from his form and acutely aware of every move he made. She didn’t run the risk of sympathizing with him, at least.

On his back, the changeling assailant hadn’t… well, he was twitching, but he had yet to accomplish more than a few involuntary spasms and a weak gurgling in the back of his throat. Apparently getting hit by a speeding, fully stocked vendor cart had done a lot more damage than Twilight would’ve bet on, and that was saying something. Even so, the glassy emerald cases around his hind and forehooves proved that nopony – Cassava least of all – wanted to take chances with the dangerous drone. 

“We’re not wandering aimlessly,” Twilight countered huffily, “We’re trying to find the central square.”

Cassava cocked his head slightly to one side, but he couldn’t have been looking in her direction; not unless he had something under his eye patch with x-ray vision.

“I cannot help but notice you say ‘trying’,” he commented.

If Twilight hadn’t been testy before, she was now. Dealing with sass was not something she was in the mood to do, and Cassava was giving her the impression that he was positively overflowing with it.

“Look, I don’t know the district’s layout, okay?” she shot. “But how hard can it be to find, really? At the very least we have to run into a familiar face sooner or later.”

“And when we do find somepony, potra,” Cassava went on, his voice disconcertingly conversational considering the thing lying lengthwise across his back that was steadily leaving a trail of spittle drips in the dirt behind him.

“Twilight,” she corrected immediately – and rather sharply. She did not like being called words in languages she did not understand, not since the Griffon Ambassador incident…

“Same thing – What is your plan? Are we under arrest?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Twilight replied coolly, eyeing the back of Cassava’s head warily.  She still didn’t have much to go off of just by what she was looking at, but she didn’t want to give Cassava the pleasure of bothering her because of it. “That all depends on what you two have to tell us. Obviously if the Changeling Court wants Agave dealt with it must be important. But I also have a hunch that queens don’t think – nor plan – in straight lines, so I’m not ruling anything out just yet.”

“You seem to know much about us,” Cassava remarked, sounding a little impressed. 

Twilight shrugged. “I do my homework.”

Cassava nodded, turning back. Twilight noticed, at the same time, Agave glance towards him, giving him a questioning look.

“Hmm… I hope so, potra –”

“Twilight.”

“—Same thing – because we are about to walk straight into a rather big changeling swarm with an unmasked – and unknown – youngling queen and her unmarked bodyguard, immediately after a humongous attack on their home, I might add. So, as I say… I hope you know what you are doing.”

“Come on, it won’t be that bad,” Twilight rebuffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s best that we get it out in the open as soon as possible. Honesty is the best policy, you know, something Applejack will appreciate. And if Applejack appreciates it, I bet the changelings that follow her will, too.”

“Yes, because having the time to explain beforehoof has never been a good idea.”

That comment won Cassava a dirty look from behind. “Okay, One, I don’t even know how I’d start the conversation when I can’t even explain it to myself. Two, I thought we talked about being on our best behaviors,” Twilight shot.

The cyclopean drone could at least take the hint. He made a motion of locking his grinning lips with one hoof and said no more.

Twilight huffed, glowering. The last thing she needed right now was to have any more monkey wrenches thrown into her plans, and having Cassava throw doubts into her every move was not helping her organize her thoughts. There was only so much she could take in one day. “Look, all we have to do is find Applejack, let Agave explain whatever it is she has to explain, and then we’ll figure something out. As long as everyone is off at the Guard Post with everypony else, the chances of us running into the whole hive anytime soon seems pretty unlikely.”

Cassava didn’t reply. However, after a pause, Twilight noticed Agave’s head peek up, once again turning towards her one-eyed bodyguard with a look of deep worry. “She… doesn’t hear it, does she?” Agave whispered nervously.

Cassava merely shook his head silently.

Twilight’s lip started to curl at that. “Hear wha—”

Just before she could finish her question, something started tickling at her ears. Her comment forgotten, Twilight lifted her head curiously… only for all of the color to drain from her face.

It was precisely then that she realized that it wasn’t as quiet as it’d been a few moments ago. No – the air was alive with a new sound; the sound of very loud, very widespread humming. And in this part of Equestria, there was only one thing – or, to be more precise, a lot of somethings – that made that kind of noise.

“Agave,” Twilight squeaked.

“Y-yes, Twilight?” Agave squeaked back.

“Change of plan.”


~~***~~


The sky over the changeling district was darkening. But it was no storm that descended upon the treetops; it was a living mass of innumerable jet black bodies sailing through the air in a massive, writhing cloud that cast a shadow over the whole of Ponyville.

Hundreds upon hundreds of changelings swarmed en masse, reacting as if they’d heard some unseen signal they’d all been waiting for. Their wings produced a mind-numbing, droning cacophony that reached everypony for miles around, drawing every pair of eyes up skyward towards the black shadow blotting out the sun as it moved and undulated like a living thing in itself.

Nearly a block away from the district, Fluttershy looked up as the dark shadow fell over the street, worry darkening her face further. Even Rarity, who'd been bordering between hysterics and catatonia over her catastrophic state, looked up through bleary eyes. "Where are they all going, I wonder?" she asked, achieving an almost speculative tone of voice. Fluttershy, however, only bit her lip.

Even further into the thatched-roof village, Pinkie Pie looked around, pausing mid-bounce – literally – to look up. "Huh, that's strange," Pinkie noted, scratching her chin in mid-air. "I wonder where they're going."

But nopony got to see it for long. As quickly as the swarm materialized, it began to move. It soared across the sky with terrifying swiftness, only stopping again to churn and swirl restlessly above a mostly empty, tree-filled part of town.

Such a spectacle could only mean one thing. Applejack’s hive had returned, and judging its restlessness, it was not in a particularly good mood.


~~***~~


Roseluck hung back amid the swirling throngs of drones, her eyes sweeping across the lumpy tree tops over the district as if her eyes could penetrate to the streets and houses below. While innumerable changelings dove through the trees into nearly everything below, she remained behind, though with a small degree of reluctance. But she could do something more useful than rushing blindly forward, something she was much better at.

Five drones remained with her, just as watchful, as the swarm merged into the foliage, blanketing the district from above.

Privately, Roseluck was struck by the spectacle she was bearing witness to. Carnation’s hive had never been anywhere near the size of what she was now seeing, at least from what she remembered, and had never felt the need to execute such a conspicuous maneuver at any point in time. For a race that valued secrecy and discretion, forming a gigantic airborne swarm was kind of counterintuitive. If such a measure was to be taken, it had to be taken for a very good reason, and at the moment, Roseluck and her fellow drones had a very good reason.

“Do we know the situation?” Roseluck ask crisply.

One of the drones beside her shook his head. “Nothing new to report,” he replied. “No new developments. As far as we know, members of the Inner Sect are still sweeping the district for any further threats. Rainbow Dash is still missing, and the whereabouts of Agave and the assailant – and any possible accomplices – is unknown. Princess Twilight Sparkle is also still within the district, and it is likely that the rest of her friends are present as well.”

“And Applejack?” Roseluck inquired critically, getting to the heart of her query. 

“Likely to be accompanied by Inner Sect members as well,” another responded. “If she hasn’t been escorted from the district by now.”

Roseluck knew how unlikely that was to happen, especially if Rainbow was still nowhere to be found. In a perfect world, Applejack would be safe and clear, giving Roseluck less she had to worry about. But in a perfect world, such a catastrophic event wouldn’t have happened in the first place. 

“The Royal Guard has locked down all major transportation and is stationed around all of Ponyville’s exits,” continued on the first drone, bringing Rose back to reality. “It seems Steel Shod had already put squads on standby just in case something did happen today. As of right now, the district is quarantined, as per Guard protocol, but they will likely begin pushing inward to locate their princess if she is not located soon.”

Roseluck nodded. Well, well… It’s nice to finally have a pony’s dislike for us work in our favor for once.

However, she couldn’t help but feel uncertainty tugging at the back of her mind. Trusting the Guard to be able to contain the threat to the changeling district was optimistic, but not entirely realistic. An attack of this magnitude would have been planned out in excruciating detail, especially if changelings were involved; thinking that there would be escape routes Steel Shod and his men could never hope to foil would not be as farfetched as Roseluck wished it might be.

Even though they’d mustered as fast as they could, Roseluck was already feeling one too many steps behind. They’d been prepared, but not for something of this scale, which was likely the whole point, she bitterly noted. Changelings were nothing if not unpredictable.

Again, dark thoughts waded through the back of her mind, filling her heart with unease. She tried not to consider them – not yet, there was simply too much to do. But that didn’t stop her.

How could the Court get resources across the border for an attack like this…? Were we just being too hopeful that the princesses’ measures could keep them in check?

For some reason, she felt tired. Exhausted even, and in ways she didn’t like. But she had to keep her priorities straight; first, she had more pressing matters to deal with. Then she could think about what came next, once present issues had been dealt with. It was the only way to keep from getting bogged down and overwhelmed by the situation. She’d just have to take it one step at a time.

“Our first priority should be regrouping with Applejack and ensuring her safety,” Roseluck said. “Second, sweeping the district for the location of Rainbow Dash, wherever that may be. Third, tracking down Agave, Princess Twilight Sparkle, and anyone or anypony still unaccounted for in the district and getting them someplace safe. We will leave the tracking of threats to the Spymaster’s men.”

It was that last part that caused several of the drones to look back and forth between each other, looking nervous. Several of them then proceeded to hold a non-verbal conversation involving a lot of head-jerking in her direction, hoof gesturing, and ending with four pushing the fifth towards Rose, each of them giving the unlucky ‘volunteer’ a meaningful look and pointing at her back.

Roseluck tried to pretend like she hadn’t noticed any of this taking place, as she was finding herself at a distinct lack of patience for some of her comrades’ shenanigans. Still, she waited patiently until the chosen patsy worked up the courage to use his big-boy words.

“U-um, Miss Roseluck… We were wondering when, you know... we should inform the Spymaster about what happened here.”

Roseluck fought back her grimace, her expression becoming heavy. They had found the one topic Rose herself wanted to think about the least. If things kept up, she was going to start sprouting grey hairs right then and there.

“There’s no need to worry about him,” she said, her voice subduing noticeably. Over the din produced by the agitated swarm, only those closest to her would’ve made out her voice at all. “Knowing him, he’s already better appraised of the situation than we are. Let’s concern ourselves over what we can do right now, mainly ensuring Applejack’s safety and finding Rainbow Dash.”

The drones nodded, happy with that course of action – all except for one, who hesitated visibly. “Of course, but… I feel I must ask,” he said apprehensively. “Realistically… what are our chances of finding Applejack’s friend anytime soon?”

Roseluck fought back the urge to bite her lip. Truth be told, she’d been thinking about that the whole way to the Guard Post and back. If changelings had abducted her, the chances of actually finding Rainbow – let alone when they would find her – were dwindling by the second. And with a bargaining chip like her at the Court’s disposal…

Rose’s chest squeezed painfully. It really was a grim prospect, but at that moment, Rainbow Dash could’ve been literally anywhere.

Like, for example, screeching to a halt in midair right in front of her.

“Oh hey Rose, there you are!” Rainbow cried once she’d steadied herself, noticeably out of breath. “I’ve been looking all over –” she shook her head once, dismissing whatever she’d been about to say, “I mean, have you seen Applejack? Do you know where she is? I need to talk to her real bad.”

Meanwhile, Roseluck and every drone in her general vicinity who’d been under the impression that they’d been midway through a rescue mission, just stared back, completely at a loss for words. 

Yet, there she was; Rainbow Dash, still just as blue, still just as rainbow-maned, still wearing the dark, umbral armor of a changeling across her chest and head. Even with her unusual wardrobe, there was absolutely no mistaking her, even if the masses of changelings seemed to think they were doing just that.

If she hadn’t been in such a rush, Rainbow may have even noticed how half the swarm cloud in front of her ground to a complete and screeching halt, a galaxy of blue eyes turning to stare at her like they’d never even seen a pegasus before.

Rainbow glanced between those closest to her, her expression becoming somewhat confused. “You know… Applejack? About this tall, changes shape, has a neat accent… really likes apples?”

Nothing. A hundred pairs of eyes just stared back uncomprehendingly. One of the closest drones was even reaching out towards Rainbow’s face, as if expecting her hoof to simply pass through the apparition.

By then, not even Rainbow could ignore the rather slack-jawed response she was getting. She was used to awe – somepony so awe-inspiring had to be, after all – but this was something else, something not nearly as gratifying.

Now feeling kind of awkward, and for reasons she didn’t really get, she said, “Yeah, so… if you see her, let me know, okay? It’s really, really important. Well… later. I’m gonna go find Twilight and… see if maybe she knows.”

And with that, she turned and glided down through a gap between an oak and rowan into the shaded streets below, throwing one last baffled glance at the stunned swarm before disappearing once again.

…

“… Miss Roseluck?”

“… Yes, Weevil?”

“I… would like to… uh… to report a new development.”


~~***~~


Twilight Sparkle looked up towards the dappled treetops overhead, trying not to panic all the while. Trying being the operative word.

Agave the stormy gray pegasus trembled in her shadow, looking scared out of her mind, her eyes fixed on the flickering shadows filtering down through the tree branches overhead. As when Twilight had found her, she seemed to be attempting to hide underneath the nearest source of cover – in this case, Twilight herself, but to little success.

Twilight, however, was too preoccupied to notice. she couldn’t see the changelings, not yet… but she could hear them. They were in front – they were behind; they were all around and everywhere in between, buzzing through the sky like some all-encompassing swarm of bees. And yet, she’d yet to see a single one as more than just a flickering shadow over the canopy.

So, all things considered, she was panicking.

In her mind, she’d already processed the information. Here she stood, standing next to an unmarked changeling without an identification pass, and a fledgling queen of all things, immediately after an attack on the center of the changeling’s home. And now there were a lot of agitated drones swarming all around her, looking for answers. She half expected them to drop on top of their heads in a hissing, snarling mass of anger, or at the very least a told-you-so from Cassava, though he was still keeping his silence. Though, even that could’ve just been to spite her.

Think, Twilight, think, she commanded herself, throwing her brain into overdrive. You have to explain things, and quick. You can make this work; you just have to reason with a whole bunch of really upset changelings. What’s the worst that could – no, no don’t finish that thought. Um…

Twilight nodded to herself, an idea striking her. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. While Cassava and Agave were unknown quantities to the changeling swarm, she herself wasn’t. They knew her, even without her recent rise to power inflating her reputation somewhat. If she could get them to stop and listen – even briefly – she had a chance to explain things, and possibly prevent another scene.

She could make this work; she knew she could. These were all good changelings at heart – as strange a concept as that might be for some. They were agitated now, but they weren’t unreasonable; she knew that much for sure. Drones like Bumblebee, Roseluck… yes, she wasn’t doomed yet. All she needed was a chance to prove herself.

“Okay,” Twilight said, still looking up towards the verdant ceiling and flinching every time something blotted out the light between the gaps in the branches and leafs. “I’ve got a plan. Cassava, just stay quiet and let me do the talking, okay?”

…

“Okay?”

The second time she received no answer, Twilight was certain that Cassava was still cheekily giving her the silent treatment just to make a point. So, her temper flaring to its breaking point, she whipped around… to confront empty air.

All she found where the one-eyed drone had been was one restrained, unconscious changeling saboteur/assassin lying in the grass, looking more than a little comatose… and no one-eyed drone to accompany it.

Her panic redoubling, Twilight pulled perhaps the quickest three-sixty of her life, whirling around in a desperate bid to find any trace of the cyclopean changeling. It wasn’t so much a fear of losing him that frightened her as it was the prospect of having him unaccounted for, free to be located and captured by less-understanding drones. Why she cared, she did not entirely know; she wasn’t even sure she could trust him.

But no matter where she looked, there was not even the faintest trace of him left; not even a faint glimmer of magic or a brief blur of movement. He was simply gone, the ease of which he’d pulled his vanishing act more than a little disconcerting to the already disconcerted princess.

How did he… when did he…?

As she spun around, her gaze inevitably fell upon the only other one present – a terrified, quivering pegasus that was looking straight at her with very big eyes; the kind of look oblivious ponies did not tend to have.

“Where did he go?” Twilight demanded, rounding on the scared filly; difficult to do, since Agave was practically underneath her by that point. Twilight had to take a full step to one side just to look her face-to-face.

Agave was running out of room to shrink down to; she was already crouched so low that she was virtually lying in the dirt. “I-I-I don’t know!” she cried, shielding her face behind her wings. “I can’t tell him what to do; I’m only a youngling! I don’t even have my crown yet!”

“But you’re a queen,” Twilight pointed out. “Why wouldn’t he –”

“I swear I don’t know where he went,” Agave persisted, looking helpless. “M-maybe he thought separating would make things easier to explain?”

Twilight had to admit that she may have a point. With Agave in her present state, she would be the least difficult to cover for. Cassava, on the other hoof, would’ve been conspicuous even when shapeshifted, considering the distinct lack of an identification badge.

Still, the thought of a drone acting without a queen’s permission… no, something else must’ve been going on. An unseen signal, some preplanned contingency – something. 

Unfortunately, Twilight didn’t have the one thing she needed to make sense of it all; time. Rustling leafs overhead reminded her of that, but when she looked up, she didn’t find the cause.

She had no choice but to think fast; this little matter would have to wait, no matter how many warning bells it set off in her head.

Twilight had to think – and think fast. The sounds of changelings were getting closer. About the only good side to this most recent development was the fact that Cassava had left behind their captive, and had taken himself out of the equation.

In that, their situation was perhaps better off than before. Now all she had to worry about was whether the changelings were as irate as she imagined them to be or not.

“Agave,” Twilight said quickly, gaining the filly queen’s attention instantly. “Just let me do the talking, okay? And don’t go anywhere, either. Got it?”

“Understood,” Agave squeaked in a small voice.

Twilight nodded and looked around. It was fortunate that she did, because right as she turned her head, she caught the first definitive sign of changeling activity.

A ways down the gently curving street from her, a black blur went shooting from one side of the street to the other, disappearing behind a wooden house… only for a little black head to reappear a second later with an audible squeak loud enough to be heard some distance away, luminescent blue eyes peering in Twilight’s direction.

Twilight’s breath caught. She braced as the changeling suddenly started sprinting towards her, fully expecting to be met with aggressive hisses and snarls.

She wasn’t, however, anticipating whimpers.

“Princess Twilight! Princess Twilight!” the drone cried, charging full tilt at her with a look of sheer panic on her face. “Oh my goodness, oh my – have you seen Queen Applejack? Do you know where she is?”


~~***~~


All across the changeling district, and even into parts of Ponyville proper, similar scenes were taking place.

Halfway between the district and a hot, cleansing shower, Rarity and Fluttershy suddenly found themselves surrounded on all sides by a group of distressed changelings who’d spotted them from high in the sky, recognized them, and descended on them like swooping falcons with a singular goal in mind.

Five blocks away, just on the rim of the market, Pinkie Pie was pulled up short out of her fastest, most bouncy of strides when a swarm of changelings started buzzing all around her, forcing her to a halt to answer their demands.

And they all had the same demand, regardless who they asked. Nothing else mattered to them – a singular, driving force had taken hold of them all, tunneling their vision on only one solitary goal; to find their queen. To find Applejack at all costs.


~~***~~


Twilight, for her part, was stunned. This was in no way the wary, territorial creature she’d envisioned she’d encounter, hissing and spitting and bristling like feral dogs defending their turf; no, this drone sprinting towards her seemed to have more in common with an abandoned filly looking for her mother. She was scrambling, nearly falling over herself in her haste, looking so desperate one would think her life was in jeopardy.

Twilight was so taken aback that she didn’t respond right away, and in that time, the drone had caught up to her.

The fretful changeling barely glanced at Agave and flat out didn’t even notice the very conspicuous drone lying in a crumpled heap on Twilight’s other side; she had eyes only for the lavender princess and whatever knowledge she might possess.

“I’ve searched all over the place,” the drone whined, wringing her hooves while glancing about restlessly, as if expecting to find the object of her searching at any moment. But the more she looked around and apparently found nothing of interest, the further she was pushed into hysterics, her voice hitching up higher and higher by the second. “I just can’t find her! Do you know where she is? Is she alright? Please tell me she’s alright!”

Finally, Twilight rediscovered her voice, soon enough to get out a strangled “I’m sure she’s –” before another outburst made her flinch.

Another drone, likely drawn by the first’s crying, was streaking through the air towards group, moving like greased lightning from a bough overhead. He, however, was only a harbinger for what was about to come.

It was as if the first drone’s appearance had triggered some kind of an alarm, because all of a sudden, they were everywhere. Changeling after changeling burst through bushes and thickets, out of treetops, even out of a window or two as they crawled through the houses in question. They buzzed through the air, galloped across the ground, sometimes alternating freely between the two in an effort to speed up, depending on whichever struck their fancy. They all first looked around, zeroed in on Twilight, and then flung themselves forward with alarming agility.

In no time at all, the street was packed, all avenues of escape blocked off. The silence had been dispelled spectacularly by the sheer volume of buzzing wings, scrabbling hooves, and many, many voices, all vying for Twilight’s attention.

“Where is she?”

“Do you know where Queen Applejack is?”

“I can’t find her anywhere! It feels like forever since I saw her last!”

“We shouldn’t have left her behind! What if we can’t find her again? What are we going to do?!”

“Is she sick? She’s not hurt, is she?! Please, Princess Sparkle, show us where she is!”

“Yes, you must know where she is! Please, show us where she is!”

“Show us, please!”

In a way, Twilight found herself in the situation she’d been dreading; completely surrounded by changelings seeking answers, boxed in on all sides by a crush of drones that steadily pushed closer and closer together, unable to get a single syllable in edgewise to diffuse the situation. This, however, was something else entirely, and yet just as bad.

By then, she was at the center of the mob, her personal space bubble dwindling in size with each passing second, to the point of drones almost physically grabbing hold of her. One nearly did just that in his quest for Applejack’s whereabouts, forcing Twilight to press one gilded hoof against his chest just to keep him at arm’s length.

“Wai—hey, hang on! One at a time!” Twilight tried to holler, but it was no use. The masses were simply too worked up up to heed what she had to say. Even if she shouted at the top of her lungs that she’d take them all where they wanted to go, a good part of her felt sure the living typhoon of noise wouldn’t hear a word she said.

So, drastic times called for drastic measures.

Fueled by a fair amount of adrenaline after almost getting grabbed again, Twilight’s horn erupted with light, sparking and fizzing with the sheer volume of magic trying to be forced out of her horn so quickly. Then, with a blinding flash, a nova of purple light exploded over the crowded street… and everything went still.

Twilight opened her eyes, panting, sweat beading on her forehead and a grating ringing in her ears, to find herself surrounded on all sides by a mob of motionless, petrified black statues, all frozen in whatever pose they’d been in before Twilight’s spell hit, usually with their mouths open, a hoof or two raised.

Even the changelings hovering in the air found themselves inexplicably locked in place, wings hanging motionless in all manner of positions midway through their usually rapid flapping cycle. All were unable to so much as bat an eyelash. Each and every one of them was enveloped in a sheath of dancing violet light, the same kind that pulsed around Twilight’s horn.

With her ears still ringing from the verbal onslaught, Twilight steadied herself with a deep breath, then raised her head, bearing no small amount of annoyance.

“Everyone, settle down!” she shouted exasperatedly. “I can’t help if you guys don’t give me a chance!”

No one responded, though it couldn’t be held against them given their current state. They couldn’t even arrange their faces to look apologetic nor could they get their vocal cords to work in any capacity, so powerful was Twilight’s stasis spell. For so many, she had to make it as powerful as possible or else there’d be gaps in her coverage beyond her control. For powerful spells, the more general the better, especially if one needed to cast it in a hurry. They all could hear her, see her, and comprehend her, and weren’t in danger of dropping dead because their internal organs came to a halt, but in every other regard, it was as if time itself had come to a complete standstill around each changeling.

“First of all,” Twilight went on, reigning herself in, “I don’t know where Applejack is precisely, but I do know that she is not hurt or sick, or anything of the sort! Those cloaked changelings are still with her, so everyone needs to please calm down. She’s safe.”

Twilight took another deep, steadying breath, which felt even better than the last.
She was on the verge of sitting down when she felt her undercarriage bump against something huddling beneath her. It was then that she remembered Agave.

As requested, she was letting Twilight do all the talking, but that could’ve simply been because she was too scared to budge an inch. Her eyes were huge, her legs and wings pinned so close to her chest it looked like she was hugging herself.

Not far off, Twilight found the unconscious captive – now playing doormat to two motionless changelings who simply didn’t seem to care that they were stepping on another living being. Twilight thought about addressing that… but then pretended she hadn’t noticed and turned away.

“If I had to guess,” Twilight went on, addressing the mob again, “I’d say Applejack is still trying to find our friend, Rainbow Dash, who could be anywhere around here. When we find her, I’ll be more than happy to help you all find Applejack.”

With her spell cast, Twilight was expecting to speak without interruption. That, however, didn’t happen, as a squeaky voice spoke up from directly beneath her. “R-Rainbow’s missing?” Agave echoed.

Twilight hesitated, then nodded. “We don’t know where she is. That’s why I’m hoping we can get some information out of our friend over there” – she gestured blandly in the direction of the changeling captive without really looking – “will have some things to tell us. That is, of course, if you don’t.”

For some reason, though, Agave didn’t panic. She didn’t even seem to hear most of what Twilight said. No, she’d instead became rather motionless – and very, very pale. 

The gears in her mind were turning in overdrive, to the point where she seemed totally oblivious to her surroundings. When she spoke, it wasn’t to anypony in particular, and seemed to be more like a thought that had leaked off the tip of her tongue into a quiet, quivering whisper “… Mother…”

Twilight blinked, her temperamental outburst stalling. “What?”

All of a sudden, Agave was looking up at her, a look on her face so scared that it took even Twilight aback. Up until that point, it was like she’d only been nervous or anxious. Now, those changeling queen eyes shown with a fear so intense, so panic-inducing, they practically screamed bloody murder at Twilight.

“Twilight, we have to hurry!” she cried, suddenly taking hold of one of her forelegs. “I-I don’t understand what’s going on – s-she must’ve followed me and – I-I don’t know! But if she has Rainbow, then the Court will have her soon, too! And if the Court gets ahold of her, there’s no telling what they will do to her to get back at Applejack! There might still be time, but if they get her out of Ponyville, we may never see her agai—!”

“Um…”

And for the second time in under five minutes, the street went dead quiet. This time, it wasn’t because of a spell, but instead a shock so profound it stopped even terrified Agave in her tracks mid-rant.

Twilight and Agave looked at each other, neither one quite believing what they’d heard, until they turned their heads in unison, eyes just as big, to find a rainbow-maned abductee standing just a few feet away, still dressed in a changeling’s armor, looking between them both with uncertainty.

“Are… are you two about done freaking out?” Rainbow asked, gesturing with a hoof between the two. “I kinda don’t have all day.”

Twilight and Agave just gawked in sheer, mind-numbing disbelief. So great was Twilight’s shock that her horn flickered, then extinguished, dropping a small horde of changelings onto the ground in the process as her mind stalled in totality.

…

“Rainbow…”

“Sup?”

“… How long have you been standing there?”

Rainbow thought about it for a moment, pawing her chin. “Mmm… not long. Just got here actually, but you two looked pretty into... whatever you guys were talking about. I was going to ask you a question, but you seemed kinda in the middle of doing a Rarity, so…”

“And… and you didn’t think to say something earlier?”

To that, Rainbow looked slightly affronted. “I was trying, but the two of you weren’t giving me a chance! And I thought the Apples were bad when they got going. By the way, if you're ever over for dinner, never bring up pears. Like, seriously. All. Night. Oh and speaking of whom…”

To Agave’s uncomfortable surprise, she suddenly found herself the subject of Rainbow’s undivided attention. She was already a nervous wreck, and seeing the intensity in the pegasus’ eyes didn’t help in the least.

“We need to get you to Applejack,” Rainbow said, her voice unexpectedly serious. “Like, right now.”

While Twilight gave her friend an even more confused look than before, Agave quirked her head to one side, looking befuddled herself. “We… do?” she echoed, sounding as nonplussed as she looked.

Rainbow nodded, worrying Agave still further. “Yeah. Don’t you have some pretty important things to tell Applejack before anything else happens?”

Agave’s expression flickered, as did Twilight’s. “Rainbow, how did you know…?” the alicorn asked, but was forced to trail off. 

Because all at once, the entire changeling mob sprang back to life in a flash of speed.

With a rallying cry of high-pitched squeaks and squeals unlike anything the two ponies had ever heard before, every single changeling lunged – not at Agave or Twilight, but straight at Rainbow.

As fast as Rainbow’s reflexes were, they weren’t anywhere near quick enough to get her out of the way of the first six close range, buzzing missiles, which proceeded to tackled her right off her hooves and knock her to the ground in a pile of tangled limbs, all the while producing the same high pitched note that was too high for a pony too ever make themselves.

And it wasn't the drones closest to her that decided to inexplicably jump on top of Rainbow as if trying to hold her down while squeaking and squealing excitedly. Oh no, there were a lot more who joined in.

While the gathering of some eighty changelings continued to dog-pile en masse on top of a hollering, thoroughly unamused Rainbow, one more drone turned toward a stunned Twilight, an excited and awfully expectant gleam in his eye.

“Princess Sparkle,” he barked eagerly, all the while ignoring changelings cannon-balling into the pile behind him, “we have acquired the rainbow one. May we now be shown where Queen Applejack is?”

Two things could have happened then. Either Twilight continued to try to process the inexplicable events that had taken place one after the other right in front of her, which would likely result in her head violently exploding, or her overloaded mind simply would give up, toss in the towel, and cease to question it, all in the interest of self-preservation.

Luckily, it was the second option that came to be.

Twilight sighed, long and beleaguered, and turned around. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”


~~***~~


The central square of the changeling district was a mess. 

Decorations had been scattered in every direction as if tossed about by a savage whirlwind. Streamers, ornaments, multicolored bits of confetti, and even a few uprooted lamp posts; debris large and small sprinkled bushes and flowerbeds and everything in between, leaving them lying strewn as if by the grim consequence of some devastating war. 

Long planks of wood stuck up out of the ground like stretched out headstones at a ransacked cemetery, gouging the earth where they’d been buried into it.

What’d once been a big lacy “Summer Sun Celebration” banner had been draped unceremoniously in several different shredded white tatters from several high boughs, hanging like motionless ghosts in the stillness. 

A pile of twisted wreckage lay heaped where the royal’s balcony had once stood, burn marks scarring the wood telling the tale of quite the magical blast indeed despite what the witnesses had seen themselves.

And unlike the rest of the district, hardly anything was green. Branches overhead were covered in cracked and peeling bark, leaves looking just as diseased. Cascades of brittle, yellow leaves drifted through the air like bits of ashes from a dead fire, more a scene from autumn than the height of summer.

Once lush grass had withered and shriveled, as if exposed to an unearthly heat that’d stricken the life out of each blade. Flowerbeds lay desiccated and ruined, sporting far more brown and yellow than the vibrant kaleidoscope they’d once held, like a once-grand painting covered in dirt and filth. 

All had turned a very sickly shade of yellowish brown, and an unpleasant smell clung to the air like smog, like a compost heap left to rot under the summer sun.

This was the first thing Applejack noticed when she came jogging into the square, huffing and puffing – and now with a wrinkled nose as well. As she looked around, her eyes bore witness to the chilling cost inflicted by the dark artifact that had generated the illusory Sylphid.

She’d been running so much in the past few minutes that her neatly braided amber mane had become frazzled, loose ends poking out in every direction. Applejack had half considered just unraveling the dang thing and been done with it, but in order to do that, she would’ve had to stop, and she couldn’t afford to waste time.

Her chest burned and her holey hooves ached, yet she was ignorant to it. Her amber eyes only lightly grazed over her surroundings, giving everything only enough scrutiny to notice the distinct lack of blue, and the rainbow that should’ve come with it. Her eyes paused here and there – on a strip of blue bunting, an azure hat that sat forgotten and dirty in a bush, a periwinkle scarf that lay in the dirt where the sun could find it. None were anything like what she wanted to see, and each false alert only served to agitate her further.

Dagnabit, Dash… where did ya get yerself off to? Applejack grumbled internally, eyes turning this way and that, looking for the faintest clue. A bit of blue-painted wood, the remains of an indigo flowerbed mixed with a few recognizable spotted red tiger lilies and yellow tulips…  Ya wouldn’ta made it that easy for them. Ya couldn’t have…

Dark thoughts whipped through her head like persistent, biting gnats. They had been for so many long minutes already, and they served to do nothing but stress her further.

If ya got hurt…

Applejack shook her head rather violently, as if trying to physically throw the vile thoughts from it. She would not – could not – entertain them even for a moment. Rainbow was better than that; it was one of the things Applejack valued most in her. Her capabilities to fend for herself were never questionable, even if sometimes her motives were. She would look after herself. She would be fine.

But then where was she?

The changeling ground her fangs together, both in frustration and something she was determined to not see as panic. Impatience sounded better.

She’d been up and down every street in the district, but it hadn’t taken her long to feel like nothing more useful than a headless ant running about, helter-skelter, without purpose. She’d exerted herself as much as she physically could, running, climbing, knocking open doors, whatever she had to in order to check every possible hiding place scattered about the district, and there were many. She was working herself to the bone, and for the first time in her life, she had absolutely nothing to show for it. Not a solitary feather or hair… nothing.

These were changelings she was dealing with; not being found was their specialty. And if they didn’t want her to find Rainbow…

No! That ain’t gonna be how it goes!

Applejack struggled to rein herself in – to force the tumult raging inside of her to settle into something she could at least put to work. She’d never felt so frustrated or so impatient before in her life, and while the minority part of her brain struggled in vain to keep reminding her how her temper wouldn’t help her think, the majority opinion wasn’t in any mood to listen.

Ah’ll find Rainbow. There ain’t no way she coulda gotten far! Ah’ll make sure she’s safe, and there ain’t nothin’ that’ll stop me from doin’ just that. Then Ah’ll make sure whoever did this gets what’s comin’ ta—ow!

Applejack flinched with a hiss, jerking her hoof back up after only just putting it down on what seemed to be the hardest, most jutting rock that’d ever arisen to torment Equestria’s inhabitants.

It only lasted a split second, long enough to make Applejack jolt in surprise, but just as quickly, her shock changed to an even uglier shade of annoyance.

There was that aching pressure again, cutting her right down to the bone all the way up her elbow. It’d only lasted a moment, but for that moment, it felt like her foreleg was trapped in an unbreakable, crushing vice, like a boot two sizes too small. It hadn’t been that high before, something she noted before she could check herself.

Applejack shrugged it off with a few quick shakes of her hoof and a scowl on her face. She wasn’t going to dawdle about just because of some growing pains, no matter how much worse they were getting.

But as she looked down, eyeing her hoof like it’d slighted her, Applejack’s eyes came across something else that drew her attention like a magnet.

It turned out the thing she’d stepped on wasn’t a jutting, pointed rock at all. In fact, it was completely flat, save for the indented shape of a hoof. But even so, the postcard seemed to glare back at her, the serene beach and cheery “Wish you were here!” across the top completely at odds with the cold bite it instilled in Applejack’s chest.

Wish you were here…

Applejack had to look away – anywhere else, really. The cold chill running down her spine was doing wonders for tempering her anger, but it was replacing that void with an even greater sense of burning, restless impatience. That had not been the distraction she’d needed, and now she found herself searching for another.

The moment she looked back up, however, she couldn’t help but notice the pair of glowing eyes pointed in her direction from under a dark, rugged hood, and she quickly remembered that she wasn’t alone.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” the owner of those eyes asked. Cloak was standing only slightly ahead of her, but obviously the sound of Applejack’s sharp intake of breath had been enough to draw his attention, enough so to give him cause to glance behind him.

Behind Applejack, Antlion had similarly halted in order to take stock of Applejack, though he didn’t need to hear her gasp when he had a clear view of the way she’d flinched mid-step. It only momentarily distracted him away from scanning a conjoining lane for possible threats, however, not nearly long enough to speak up for himself. Not that he’d done much speaking to begin with.

“Fine,” Applejack responded, her voice coming out a little shorter than she meant it to. “And it’s just Applejack. Ya don’t gotta call me ‘Yer Highness’ all the gosh darn time.”

Cloak started to say something, but in the end thought better of it and merely nodded before turning back around.

Of course, the moment she got finished saying it, Applejack started to feel guilty about her choice of words.

“…Sorry,” Applejack sighed. “Ah didn’t mean ta snap at ya like that. Ah’m just… a little high strung after everythin’ that’s happened.”

“Think nothing of it,” Cloak dismissed without a second thought. “My feelings are not that easily hurt.”

The shrouded changeling glanced to one side – just far enough to see Applejack around the utmost corner of his hood. “I’m sure I’m not telling you anything new, but Rainbow Dash is as tough a pony as they come. Not to mention, by now the Guard would’ve locked down the town if they had any sense about them, so we shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

Applejack frowned a little at that, but turned to continue scanning her surroundings. She didn’t like how easy she was to read, but for the moment, she was willing to let it slide. No need to get hung up on every little annoyance, or else she’d be blowing her top already. Instead, she chose to let the big annoyance get under her skin. “There ain’t no doubt about that happenin’ if Steel Shod’s leadin’ ‘em,” she grumbled. “ The princess gave him an order, but knowin’ him, he’s been waitin’ for somethin’ like this ta happen all day.”

It may have been a surprisingly cynical thing to say, especially by Applejack’s standards, but it was the truth, no doubt about it, especially after the scene from yesterday. Once she was settled down she knew she wouldn’t be so quick to snap at others’ faults, but for the moment, she was perfectly willing to vent at somepony, even if they only slightly deserved it, if only to make herself feel even a little better. It didn’t work.

It could’ve been easy to pick up on Applejack’s foul mood, and maybe even the undercurrent that caused it, because when Cloak spoke up again, his choice of tone was upbeat and optimistic.

“Then the only thing we need to concern ourselves with is finding Miss Dash,” Cloak stated in conclusion. “At the rate we’re moving, I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later. We just need to keep a lookout for any signs of her.”

He made it sound so simple, like they’d just round a corner and there’d she be…

“Then wouldn’t we be better off if we split up?” Applejack proposed yet again it felt like. “We’d cover a heck of a lot more ground and sky.” But even as she said it, she knew what the answer would be; the same one it’d been since setting off with her unnecessary escort.

While Cloak gave her a somewhat apologetic look, Antlion raised his gravelly voice for the first time since the incident with the Sylphid, saving his subordinate from having to formulate an answer.

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” he started gruffly, “the enemy has already made one attempt on your life. Our duty, first and foremost, is to protect you from harm, and leaving you unguarded would defeat that purpose, no matter the reason. I am deeply sorry, but we have some directives that not even a queen can contradict.”

Applejack turned, intent on snapping at Antlion this time, and without reservation, only for Cloak to cut across her. “Don’t mind him, Applejack,” he said quickly. “As the saying goes, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

The third of Applejack’s companying changeling spoke up then – after a barely restrain snort of derision. “And if Antlion was any more of an old dog, he’d bark.”

Dagger strode along on Applejack’s other side, a blatantly bored look on her face. She was looking around, but it only seemed to be because she was required to. Now that the excitement had died down, she wasn’t bothering to hide her disinterest from anypony.

“Two.”

Applejack blinked, not quite understanding Antlion’s barely muttered comment. On the other hoof, she saw Dagger’s reaction to that single word – a flinch, barely repressed even behind her apparent boredom.

She glanced towards Cloak, and noticed him looking around more diligently than ever before, so much so that he just so happened to avoid looking in Applejack’s direction altogether.

So, Applejack turned to the only other changeling around and threw a questioning look towards the ever-grim-faced Antlion. It was like ‘happy’ was an emotion he’d simply never experienced, or possibly couldn’t comprehend.

He noticed Applejack’s unspoken question, and obliged her an explanation dutifully. “Even an old dog knows how to teach pups discipline,” he grunted. “That is the only reason the Spymaster saw fit to gift me these two wild children. Please, pay their disrespectful dispositions no mind; once our duties here are over, I will deal with them in the most appropriate manner.”

Both Cloak and Dagger visibly flinched, despite their best efforts to keep it as low profile as possible. However, Applejack had taken too much notice of something else the gruff changeling had said to spare them more than a glance.

There was that name again; Spymaster. For many, many long minutes it’d been trying to weasel its way into the front of her mind, only kept in check by her more urgent mission of finding Rainbow. But the name hadn’t gone away, nor diminished in importance. It was there, constant and nagging, and bearing with it no small degree of uneasiness.

She hadn’t wanted to consider it; didn’t have time to in her pursuit of Rainbow’s captors. But now that it had been spoken…

Antlion could tell that something was bothering Applejack. He maintained eye contact with her, patient and waiting. He waited in humble silence until Applejack found the words she wanted to say.

“Antlion,” she started, frowning to herself, “Who is the Spymaster?”

Antlion’s response wasn’t immediate. Applejack couldn’t tell if he didn’t want to respond – or couldn’t – or if he was trying to find the right words for his response. None of those options were particularly encouraging.

“He,” Antlion said at last, “is just as dedicated to your cause as you are.”

Applejack raised her eyebrow. That wasn’t much of an answer, though it was a relief to know something to attribute to this mysterious name besides just the name itself. Still, the fact remained that it was hardly an answer at all.

Antlion could see that his barebones response had been far from satisfactory, because after only a brief pause he followed suit with another comment; this time, one with a slightly more empathetic note to it.

“I apologize, Your Highness –”

“Applejack.”

“… but I cannot answer all of your questions right now, not while we are so exposed to… potential eavesdroppers. Until we find a more secure location, it will have to wait.”

For a moment, Applejack thought that this was just another passive-aggressive attempt to get her to give up her search for Rainbow. Maybe not in so many words, per se, but the outcome would be the same, and her entourage had attempted this strategy on numerous occasions already, to the point where Applejack was starting to regret every time she opened her mouth, for fear of how her words could be twisted against her.

“Then it’s just gonna have ta wait,” she grumbled, turning away. The burning question of the identity of the Spymaster was a pressing one, but not even half as urgent as making sure Rainbow was safe. She could suffer having to put it off for a little while longer, or indefinitely; however long it took to get Rainbow back.

Antlion didn’t push the matter. He merely nodded, like he’d done before, as if Applejack’s answer had been a perfectly reasonable, and then returned his scrutiny to the many nearby nooks and crannies.

Applejack knew it wholly unreasonable. It was stubborn and bullheaded, but she could see no other course of action. She simply had to keep pushing forward; the only true defeat would be if she gave up trying to win.

Just hang on, sugarcube. Ah’m comin’, Ah prom…

She hesitated, not quite finishing her thought before something caught her attention. Applejack paused, cocking her head slightly to listen.

At first she couldn’t have been sure; it was too inconsistent, even in the quiet air, fainter than a rustling leaf or errant breeze. But the longer she stood there, the more she started to make out a peculiar sound; a rumbling almost, but not quite. There was something else mingled with it; a sound she knew she should recognize. It sounded almost like rain’s inconsistent pitter-patter, or…

Or like the sound of countless hooves stampeding in her direction.

Right as Applejack realized what it was, the origin of that sound came into view as a hundred changelings rounded the nearest corner at full speed, didn’t break stride, and continued barreling straight towards her. In fact, when the multitudes of eyes saw her standing frozen in the middle of the square, they began sprinting still faster.

It was as if the entire district’s population had materialized out of thin air, sprinting or buzzing straight at her, full tilt. The moment she was spotted, a cry went out, one that quickly got lost as it was echoed again and again amid the swarm further back down the masses, beyond eyesight but not nearly far enough to move out of earshot.

“Applejack! There she is! We found her! Applejack!”

The changeling queen in question could only stand perfectly still in shock, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of some careening freight train. She’d never before seen the masses of changelings so frantic, not in her life; their was panic so palpable it set her on edge. Had something else happened? Was the attack not over yet at all? A whirlwind of dark possibilities raced through Applejack’s head, curling her heart with dread.

So great was their haste that some actually stumbled, or even tumbled completely end over end only to pop back up and keep running without losing a fraction of their momentum.

Applejack thought that maybe some horrible beast was chasing after them, and was just starting to brace to confront this newest threat.

She soon learned, however, that it wasn’t something at the back of the pack that she had to worry about. She found that out when the fastest among them reached her, threw all social conventions right out the window, and promptly tackled her to the ground in an overjoyed heap. Understandably, Applejack was at something of a loss after that.

Drones didn’t make a habit of tackling her. Or hugging her for all their worth. Or touching her at all. And yet, that was exactly what they were doing; at least six of them had latched onto whatever part of her they could get ahold of and showed no signs of letting go, as if fearing she'd disappear if they did. Even changelings who couldn’t physically touch her still piled on, as if contact with someone that was touching her was just as good.

Changelings had ahold of her midriff, her left leg, around her shoulders and even her face – and for some reason that initially escaped the dumbfounded queen, they were only squeezing tighter. 

“Applejack! We’ve been looking everywhere for you! We were so worried that something might’ve happened while we were gone.” 

“We’re sorry we left you behind, we’re so sorry! We shouldn’t have left you here by yourself!”

“We promise we won’t ever let it happen again! Please forgive us!”

At least two more were hastily examining every inch of her they could, as if looking for so much as a single out of place hair. “Are you injured anywhere?” they kept asking urgently, appraising eyes scanning whatever their hooves could not touch. “Does anything hurt at all?”

Applejack’s mouth just flapped open and closed soundlessly, as useless as a fish out of water. Most of the voices she recognized, even in her overloaded state; familiar shop owners, recurring passersby, voices she’d heard so many times in her life that she could put them to faces, even if their names escaped her.

But there were also some she didn’t recognize as readily, voices that – up until a few months ago – had never set foot on Equestria soil. They were the ones whose behavior stunned her the most, because they had been the most reserved of the lot.

And they just kept coming in droves, social manners forgotten in totality, crushed under the weight of their fading anxiety and bursting relief. All Antlion, Cloak and Dagger did was take a few steps back to give the masses more room, Antlion glaring disapprovingly while his subordinates did their best to stifle laughter. None of them so much as raised a hoof to save Applejack from her own swarm, for fear of how many pointy little teeth they’d get in return.

This of course left Applejack to deal with her predicament herself. It took her considerably longer than it should’ve to first realize that, no, there was not some fresh terror bearing down on them, and that, yes, these were in fact changelings giving her a massive group hug. If she’d been told earlier in the day that she’d be a part of such a thing with the usually reserved and mild-mannered drones, she probably would’ve laughed in that pony’s face.

Finally, after one of the longest, most confusing time periods of Applejack’s life, the changelings started to relinquish their grips on her and give her some room.

Some of them showed signs of having their brains catching up to their actions, coloring their beaming faces with glimpses of mortification and embarrassment, sometimes both in the same expression. The most embarrassed of the lot quickly faded into the black and speckled blue gathering.

Some of the cheering and glee died down as everyone turned their attention to Applejack, now for a new reason; to see if they’d gone too far.

One of the drones responsible for bowling the young queen over in the first place gave Applejack a helping hoof back upright. Another proffered her crown, which had been left almost a foot away where she’d been standing previously, then both quickly backed away once she’d regained her balance.

However, the adrenaline and shock was so high in Applejack’s system that her mood was anything but irate. A series of huffs escaped her lips as she straightened her crown atop her head; or, perhaps, they were chuckles, giddy from a racing pulse but tempered by self-control.

“Landsakes,” she coughed, wiping herself down with a hoof. “Ah’m glad ta see all y’all, too.”

“We’re sorry for the delay, Applejack,” one of the drones chimed up, and Applejack couldn’t help but feel disappointed by the return of that familiar tenner of respect and humility that circumvented the previous mood. And there she was, hoping to herself maybe she’d finally cracked their reverence of her. “We had to make sure everypony was safe at the Guard Post first, but all of us came back as soon as we could.”

Somewhere behind her, Applejack heard someone whistle. “Well you certainly made good time,” Cloak remarked. “I would’ve bet bits it’d take you longer to get back.”

“You did bet bits,” Dagger corrected him from his right, and promptly held a hoof out towards him expectantly.

Applejack sighed, looking around. “Everyone… y’all didn’t have ta get so wound up over me.”

“I don’t think she knows how drones work,” Cloak commented quietly.

“It’s kind of in our job description,” Dagger agreed. “Not even in the fine print.”

“Quiet, you two.”

“Sorry boss.”

One of the drone’s – the one that’d been wrapped firmly around Applejack’s shoulders and was now shuffling and avoiding eye contact because of that – spoke up as if she hadn’t heard the cloaked changelings’ commentary. “We… just wanted to make sure you were safe. I apologize if we were a little…” she glanced around, trying to find the right word.

“Overzealous,” someone else offered from the crowd. This made the first to speak start nodding in agreement. “Y-yes. Overzealous.”

Applejack shook her head – more out of disbelief than actual confirmation. “Oh nonsense. Sure y’all caught me by surprise, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with expressin’ yerselves.”

Applejack said it, but she had a good feeling that it wasn’t going to stick. It usually didn’t, and she’d been at it for a while now. Still, it gave her a slight glimmer of hope for a future where she wasn’t put on such a high pedestal, where she didn’t deserve to be. And the way the day had been going, even the faintest glimmer of hope felt like food to a starving pony; delicious, no matter how small or unimpressive it was.

“We’re still sorry,” mumbled one of the drones; an airborne one, who’d taken to wringing his hooves in the absence of anything more meaningful to do. “It felt like we searched everywhere for you. When we didn’t find you right away…” he hesitated, a strangely queasy look crossing his face. When he spoke again, it was even quieter, as if just admitting it was an uncomfortable process. “I… really like it here. I don’t want to have to go anywhere else.”

Changelings all around murmured in agreement, their voices never rising to become more than a background whisper; indistinct, yet filling Applejack’s ears.

There was only a brief pause, however, before another drone interjected, obviously forcing a perky demeanor to counterbalance to sudden shift in the atmosphere. “B-But we found you, and now everything’s going to be just fine!”

Again, the crowd agreed – louder this time, more upbeat to keep the depressing gloom away.

But as soon as the changeling said it, Applejack felt something else. There they went again, heaping so much expectation on top of her, looking at her with those awestruck eyes anticipating miracles…

After everything that’d happened that day, the weight of the world coming to rest upon her shoulders – and pressing down particularly on the top of her head – felt so much more unpleasant than it had ever before, and that was saying something. It made her feel almost nauseous, like the stress of it all was eating a hole through her stomach even as they spoke. Again and again the thought hit her; she didn’t deserve it. She didn’t…

“…Applejack?”

Applejack stiffened, then looked up. The changelings in front of her had all adopted a similar look of concern, their eyes scrutinizing her face. “Is… is everything okay?”

Mentally she kicked herself, then forced herself to smile for the drones’ sakes. Today really was turning into a lousy day…

“Just… got a lot on my mind right now,” she admitted. It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth, either.

And the drone, dutiful as ever, perked her head up, an inquisitive look on her face like a puppy who’d just spotted something new and interesting. “Is there any way we can help?” she asked.  

All around her, the drones had adopted similar looks, their eyes now turned to Applejack for a new reason. There was an expectant, eager energy coursing through the amassed swarm. The stillness in the air seemed to supercharge. Drones stood stock still, eyes unblinking, repressing the fluttering of their wings as best they could as if fearing the sound could drown out anything that might be said. It was such a shift in behavior that for a moment Applejack just looked around, taken aback yet again.

They just stood there, listening… waiting…

Applejack’s first instinct was to dismiss the offer of help. Getting them involved in her problems seemed unnecessary and burdensome. Were there only a couple of drones giving her that look, she might very well have done that.

But there were hundreds of eyes now looking at her, all with the same look copied countless times over. The sheer amount of them was proving very hard to dismiss.

But even more compelling was the little voice in the back of her head. Rainbow…

Applejack swallowed her pride without another thought and straightened up. “Actually, there is somethin’.”

The changelings stood up a little straighter, ears perked, their undivided attention planted squarely on Applejack.

“Ah need y’all ta help me find –”

“Applejack!”

That voice – that single, raspy voice – struck Applejack’s ear like a lightning bolt. She froze in place perfectly, mouth still open to say one word further, which never came to be.

The only thing that moved was her neck, which swiveled her head to one side, eyes wide and unblinking.

And there, just over the turning heads of a parting swarm of drones, at the very opposite end of the square and the mouth of the main thoroughfare, were five familiar faces amongst a river of black bodies and glowing blue eyes; a column of still more changelings, seemingly just as vast as the one that surrounded Applejack, if not more so.

Twilight was there; Applejack saw the glint off her crown and golden horseshoes out of the corner of her eye. So was Pinkie and Fluttershy, and even Rarity, despite her appearance still being a disaster, and a grey, blue-maned pegasus filly for some reason.

She registered this, yes, but only in the periphery. Her eyes, instead, had fallen on something else – something with the exact right shade of blue, and the exact right mane of rainbow hues. Immediately she knew this was no false alarm.

Rainbow was flying towards her, having fought her way free of her captors in the mob behind her, speeding as fast and as urgently as she could straight towards the amber-maned changeling standing amidst a crowd of black figures.

In her mind, Aconita’s words boiled and frothed, nearly driving her into a frenzy. She had to get to Applejack; had to make it these last few feet. Then, she could make everything right.

What Rainbow didn’t notice, however, was Applejack’s gaze zeroing in on her, her thin pupils thinning even further to surgically small slits.

The pegasus was distracted when she felt something tingle across her skin and fur, like she’d just flown through an ionized pocket of air soon to become a thunderstorm. All of a sudden, Rainbow realized that she was picking up speed. She was traveling way faster than she meant to, careening so fast straight at Applejack that several drones dove out of the way with a chorus of squeals.

Rainbow only realized how out of control she was when she went to brake, to absolutely no avail. She continued sailing straight at Applejack, as if drawn in by a powerful magnet she could not resist, shooting forward like a loosed cannonball.

She yelped, hooves pedaling wildly and uselessly through the air. Applejack crouched, ignorant of her friend’s distress, squirmed like a cat, and pounced.

Only then did Rainbow come to a stop.

Once her eyes stopped spinning from the impact, Rainbow looked up, blinking furiously, to find a changeling queen standing over her, staring unblinkingly at her.

“Ah have been lookin’ everywhere for ya!” Applejack said.

Rainbow’s mouth flapped uselessly. She was lying on the ground on her back, legs curled up defensively against her stomach, with no recollection of how she’d ended up there. But with Applejack standing over her, practically capturing her in place, she had other things to worry about.

“A-A-Applejack, did you just –”

Smack!

To everyone and everypony’s surprise – Rainbow most of all – Applejack suddenly raised one hoof, and in a black blur, hit Rainbow across the nose, making her yelp.

“That,” Applejack shouted angrily, “is for makin’ me worry so much!”

“Hey, cut it –”

Thwack!

“And that is fer gettin’ yerself caught in the first place!”

“Like I could help tha—”

Whack!

“And that’s fer just turnin’ up like nothin’ happened!”

“Why are you even mad about – ow!”

“And that’s also fer makin’ me worry, ya good-for-nothin’… ornery… ornery… nag!”

Even while covering her face defensively with her hooves against Applejack's flailing hooves, Rainbow still found the presence of mind to glance between her forelegs to give Applejack a one-eyed look. “Okay, that was just uncalled for.”

Applejack was unfazed. She glared down at Rainbow so hard that even the brash pegasus quailed into silence. “Do ya have any idea what Ah’ve been through lookin’ for ya?”

Unexpectedly, Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Says the pony who wasn’t foalna—sorry, shutting up now!” she squeaked under the look of unamused fury on Applejack’s face.

The rest of her friends had galloped up by then, but didn’t dare step one hoof into the arena. Even the drones had backed up to give their queen the space she needed.

“A-Applejack,” gasped Twilight, but she ignored her. She even tuned out the fresh murmuring that’d arisen amongst the crowd. Applejack’s attention was squarely fix on Rainbow, with no intentions of being moved anywhere else.

“Look, I’m sorry if I scared you,” Rainbow said in a brave attempt at diplomacy.

Applejack blinked, then suddenly she recoiled glancing away. “Wha – Ah wasn’t scared. Just worried. Big difference, sugarcube.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, but said nothing further, even if she really wanted to. Of all the ways she’d envisioned this reunion going, she hadn’t expected she’d start it by getting clobbered.

Suddenly, she heard Applejack gasp, and one of her forelegs was pulled straight out. Right away she saw what Applejack’s gaze had fixed onto; a raw ring around her ankle, where her weight had cause the manacle to bite into the skin, leaving an angry red, swollen mark visible even through her fur.

“What happened to ya?” Applejack asked critically, staring hard – so hard the intensity might’ve set Rainbow’s fur on fire at any given moment.

“Ow – hey, watch it, that smarts,” Rainbow complained, trying to jerk free, and then immediately added, “it’s nothing, so let me go already!”

For some reason, the last part of what Rainbow said caught Applejack’s attention. Let her go? But… but Ah ain’t touchin’…

Her hooves were down on the ground – she could feel them with absolute certainty. Squared and tensed, yes, but nowhere near Rainbow. So, why…?

And then she saw it. Rainbow’s foreleg, from her hoof all the way up to her elbow, glowed with an eerie but bright green glow. And for some reason, something was tingling around her forehead.

Magic…

The moment she realized it, her horn went out like a light. Rainbow’s hoof flopped down to the ground, no longer suspended by Applejack’s telekinetic grip.

Magic… but how…?

Applejack was painfully aware of Rainbow staring unblinkingly at her, but she could only stare at the hoof. How had she done that? And how had she, without her noticing? Confusion rippled through her head, disorganizing her thoughts still further.

How had she done that?

But for Rainbow, she stared at Applejack with a whole new knot cinching tight in her chest.

… How has her magic been behaving…?

The rest of their friends watched in stunned silence – the same one they’d been struck into since watching Rainbow get yanked through the air by a green light.

Applejack was at a loss for words. She tried, but all that got out was something akin to a panting sound, barely formulated words puttering out before they could fully coalesce. Something was wrong… something was terribly wrong. She didn’t know what – she couldn’t put her hoof on it. But she knew, without a shadow of a doubt; something was wrong, deep inside of her.

Rainbow could see the panic and confusion welling up in Applejack’s eyes as she tried to process what she’d just done, and something else Rainbow couldn’t understand. Her performance been harmless – even mundane by a unicorn’s standards. But the look on Applejack’s face told Rainbow that this was something else – something that cut her much, much deeper, and had profoundly disturbed her.

I will ask you again, little pegasus… How much do you know about being a changeling…?

Rainbow opened her mouth to say something – something important. She just didn’t know what something important might be. Her mission was at the forefront of her mind again, as if manifested by Applejack’s confusion.

“Applejack,” she started to say.

The amber-maned changeling stiffened as if she’d shouted at her. Her uncertain – and even slightly fearful – eyes flicked back towards Rainbow. “W-what? A-Ah didn’t mean… Ah didn’t…”

“Easy there, cowgirl,” Rainbow tried to pacify. She touched Applejack’s leathery foreleg, but the contact seemed to startle her even more.

Applejack flinched back, backpedalling as if she’d been shocked. “A-Ah’m sorry… Ah didn’t mean to…” she grunted.

“Applejack?” spoke up Twilight, her voice ringing with concern. She'd straightened up, her eyes fixed on Applejack, as if she'd picked up something in the air.

But Applejack didn’t seem to hear her. She was touching her forehead with a hoof, as if only then realizing she had a horn there. Her eyes just stared into the ground, wide and unblinking, pupils constricted so tightly they almost vanished completely into her inner iris. She continued backing up, unseeing, unblinking, as if dazed. 

Panic burst inside Rainbow chest then. Something was wrong.

“Ah didn’t mean ta do it,” Applejack was mumbling, her buzzing voice so low it was almost impossible for Rainbow to catch it. “Ah didn’t… it wasn’t… Ah… Ah didn’t mean to… didn’t… didn’t mean…. Didn’t mean…”

And with an earsplitting crack, her horn fractured right down the middle. 

Fire the color of acid gushed forth, spurting out in incredible volumes for the size of the opening it forced itself through. The crack glowed green-hot, outlining the jagged shape that split all the way to the base of her sharp horn and spider-webbed an inch or two in a fan shape across her forehead.

“Didn’t… mean… to,” Applejack breathed one last time, before her eyes rolled up into the roof of her skull, and she collapsed like a puppet being cut from its cords.
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 8: Price of Power
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
She stood someplace familiar; on the edge of a grassy field that rolled out over lumpy hills, so much like the waves of the ocean frozen in place. Dappled patches of bright yellow wildflowers littered the slopes, bringing color even where the sun could not directly touch.

Not far in the distance – maybe just over the fourth hill from her – thatched roof cottages stood tall, resplendent underneath the midday sun, as if every surface had been polished to a mirror finish. She recognized some of them, even if they didn’t seem to be where they should’ve been. A round, bluish-purple building, like a carousel, what looked like a life-sized gingerbread house, a tree sporting windows and doors… Yes, she knew these places.

When she turned her head, she saw a familiar fence meandering away through the field, and just behind it, orderly rows upon rows of trees bearing great big, juicy red apples, bigger than she’d ever seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, towards the glittering village and the lustrous orchard, ponies were laughing. She knew those voices… they were familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, even though she knew she should know. She was not distressed, however. All she had to do was go and check for herself.

Picking herself up off of the smooth, cool grass, she started off in the direction of those voices.

Yet… the hills never seemed to change. The grass kept on coming, moving beneath her hooves, and yet the countryside in front of her stayed in the same place, unmoving.

Concerned, she sped up to a quick trot, frowning to herself.

The distance began to grow.

Inexplicably, impossibly, she found herself moving away from the field, from the inviting village, the gorgeous farm, the friendly voices. It was as if she was on a treadmill while the rest of the world moved past her like great sailing ships.

She broke into a gallop, but the ground only started to move faster, propelling her backwards faster and faster still.

Dark trees closed in all around her, like the ranks of some unspeakable advancing army passing her by. Her view of the plains soon disappeared behind ghastly hanging moss and twisted tree limbs.

The shadows grew deeper and deeper, until all she could see was a few scant feet all around her. Beyond that, the flurry of movement made it appear like the forest was crawling and squirming with unspeakable horrors.

Desperate and panicking, she started running as fast as she could, trying with all her might to return to the safe place, the bright and happy place, the place where she belonged most of all, but to no avail. Deeper and deeper in she was dragged, where the black heart of the forest awaited her.

“Let me go back,” she cried in terror. “Let me go back!”

All she got in response was a cold, heartless cackle from the brambles that swallowed her whole and dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the darkness below.


~~***~~


Applejack’s return to consciousness was not a sudden one, but that did not mean it wasn’t unpleasant. Instead of bolting upright with a gasp, she let out a groan as sluggishly her senses became sharper.

The first thing she assessed was that she felt terrible, not at all like she’d been sleeping. If anything, her return to consciousness left her feeling even more drained than before. Every bone in her body ached and creaked like she’d been lying in the same position for an eternity already.

And her head… her head rang with the most ferocious, most splitting headache she’d ever endured. It was as if somepony had pulled out her brain, raked it through a bramble patch a couple of times until it was covered in thorny burs, and then crammed it back into her skull. The pain alone made her instantly regret waking up.

But… why was she waking up?

Even through her pain and misery, the thought still coalesced in her mind. Why was she waking up? When had she fallen asleep?

She had to do it; she had to force open one eye and check her surroundings. Even though she only got her eye open a narrow, narrow slit, she still made out a couple of things about her surroundings.

Firstly, she discovered that she was lying on a bed, but… not her bed in her bedroom. The sheets smelled different, and were unusually light and silky smooth against her hide. The pillow underneath her head was mercifully soft, so soft that she sank up past her ears into its poofy depths. But even that snuggly soft cushion did not agree with her throbbing skull any more than sleeping on a brick might have.

Mercifully, the lights were dimmed, maybe even turned off completely. But she could still make out the space beyond her bed well enough, and the sight perplexed her.

For some reason, the walls appeared to be made from tightly packed roots, or branches of some kind. Some were thicker around than she was, while others were as thin as spider silk wadded up into the finer gaps and crevices. 

Light was coming in from somewhere; diffused and weak, sort of like indirect light that emanated from… somewhere, but for the sake of her migraine, Applejack didn’t dare look for it. She only registered which side of the room it was coming from and turned her head away from it.

When she turned her head – thinking perhaps it might have been a shuttered window or something – she noticed that a doorframe seemed trapped within the tangle, as if it’d unfortunately been caught when whatever those roots were attached to had grown.

It was open just a crack, and though glaring orange light cut through that tiny crack like a laser beam, it only fell across her blanket-covered midriff, sparing her eyes from direct exposure.

Applejack restrained another groan, but she shut her eye again, tight. Nothing she’d seen answered her question. Why was she here? Where was here? Why the hay couldn’t she remember anything?

The last thing she recalled was hearing… somepony. Somepony important, somepony she’d been thinking about, desperate over… Somepony that’d called her name. And then… nothing. Darkness, nightmares… and pain. The forest, a voice cackling in her ears… pain…

What… what in tarnation happened to me…?

The silence of the bed chamber pressing down on her was the only response she got.

Applejack wanted to hurry up and go back to sleep, if only to get away from her throbbing headache. The pain of it…

A voice suddenly caught her attention, giving her pause. It was quiet, but not quite a whisper – low, and almost grim.

“Okay ladies,” it said – a stallion, by the sounds of him. She did not recognize the voice, and that worried her. But she remained quiet, ear perked up despite herself.

A scrabbling sound followed, rasping and scratching, like seats scraping on a wooden floor. Hooves as ponies stood up. Clopping and clambering as somepony moved closer.

“Well?” asked a mare this time, expectant – demanding even. Applejack knew that voice, knew it more than any other. blue… rainbow…

She couldn’t get her brain to function much better than that. Even trying to organize her thoughts was a herculean task, let alone formulate new ones. She just felt so weak…

“What’s happening to her?” asked a more collected voice. She knew that one, too. purple… books…

The stallion made a noise, like a word that failed him at the last second, then he tried again. “I… don’t know what to tell you. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before,” he said. “Well… not like this. A magical spike of this magnitude is just…”

“Wait… like a unicorn magical surge?” the purple voice said again, only now she sounded surprised, worried. “But she’s practically fully grown. Why would she be getting them now?

“I don’t know,” the stallion responded, though his voice sounded strained. “And the fact that she has as much power as ten ponies, at least, didn’t help the situation. Luna’s mane, it’s a miracle she didn’t blow her own head off, or hurt anypony around her for that matter.”

A chilled silence filled the room neighboring Applejack’s. She could practically feel the tension rolling off of it. It lasted so long that Applejack started to wonder who they were talking about, her thoughts slow to take shape in her head. Considering it hurt to think at all, making that much progress was something of a miracle in itself.

“Do…,” spoke up the first mare, the blue-and-rainbow-voiced one. “Do you think it’ll happen… again?” She sounded choked, as if just asking it took something out of her.

The stallion didn’t respond right away. It seemed almost like he didn’t want to. Then, after another reluctant noise, he said, “… I… don’t see why it wouldn’t. Whatever is causing her magic to fluctuate so wildly, it seems like her body is what’s producing it, yet that body of hers can barely handle it at all. At least, that’s my theory as to what’s going on. Whatever this is, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and I’ve been working for the princesses for half my life already. Believe me, I’ve seen some exotic ailments in my time, but this… this is something I’ve never seen before.”

“Your theory?” shot the blue-and-rainbow-voice again. Rainbow… “You’re a doctor! Can’t you come up with something –”

“Rainbow, keep your voice down,” hissed the purple voice urgently. “She’s still resting.”

Something clicked in Applejack’s mind, but she still couldn’t coordinate her mental faculties enough to make sense of it. Are… are they talkin’ about…

A silent pause. Nothing moved in the other room, and neither did Applejack. It seemed to her like the group in the other room was listening for something, maybe from her. But she stayed quiet.

After a moment, the conversation picked up again.

“Can’t you think of something more sciencey,” Rainbow snapped, but her voice was at least in the low hissing range now. “We need answers, not guesses, and we need them right now. If… if that does happen again, what are we supposed to do? Huh? W-What if she, she really does… her head…”

“Rainbow…”

It was hard for Applejack to make out who said that, but she was more preoccupied by the sheer levels of distress in Rainbow’s voice. For some reason, she was possessed by the strangest urge to rise, find the distraught pegasus and make everything alright…

But she could barely turn her head, much less heft herself up and walk.

The stallion’s voice answered after a pause. “Young lady, I specialize in ponies, not changelings. I can only draw parallels to what I do know. If the changelings had a more developed medical practice, I might be able to tell you more, but as it is, we’re practically pioneering new territory here. And based on my findings, I believe it’s reasonable to think that if her magic were to spike like that again, well… it may do more than knock her out next time.”

Silence, heavy and deafening followed.

“Is… is there something we can do?” A new voice this time… critters…pink and yellow…

This time, it wasn’t the stallion who responded. It was Rainbow.

“Yes, there is. Come on, girls; we gotta talk to Agave.”

Agave…? Applejack wondered? Why… Agave…?

Her senses were dulling again. What strength she’d managed to reawaken was fading again. Fading… into nothingness again.


~~***~~


Applejack awoke to the sound of light tapping. This time, she was not greeted by a pounding headache or aching body; just tapping.  tip-tip-tippity-tap…

She tried to ignore it; she was still drowsy, more unwilling to relinquish sleep than it was to relinquish her. Just… a few more minutes.

Something touched her bed then.

Applejack stiffened. She felt the reverberation run through the mattress – light, faint, but there. tip-tip-tippity-tap…

The sound was coming from the end of her bed. Something was tapping softly but restlessly against the wooden frame, relentless, unceasing.

tip-tip-tippity-tap.

Louder now, as if demanding her attention.

tap-tap-tappity-tap.

Applejack didn’t want to look, for fear of what she might see, but with the sound getting louder and louder, more and more agitated by the second, she had to.

Slowly, reluctantly, she cracked open one eye, and cast her gaze to the end of the bed.

Towards the towering, inky black darkness that stood there, one boney, ragged appendage poking her bedframe savagely, demandingly, as a pair of malevolent eyes stared hungrily back at her through a mat of filthy, oily hair, maw full of cracked and stained fangs pulled up into a  terrifying, rictus leer.

“Rise and shine, dear Applejack. There is so much left to do, and so little time to enjoy it in.”


~~***~~


Applejack sat bolt upright in bed in a cold sweat, hooves raised, ready to fight the dark beast that’d invaded her bedroom.

Nothing. A dark bedroom; the frame of her bed, a dresser in the corner to her right, a nightstand, a vanity mirror, a recliner to her left with a blanket draped across it… Nothing…

Applejack slumped in her bed, all of the air flushing from her lungs in one big exhale. Just another nightmare. Landsakes, it sure felt like the real deal…

She shuddered fitfully. The room felt suddenly freezing. For a moment she feared she’d awoken into another nightmare, if not rather foolishly. When she realized the chill came from the cold sweat she was drenched in, she settled down somewhat.

Her headache had dulled into a muted roar at least, and the aches had devolved into stiffness. Still, she reached up to her forehead, hissing, to place one hoof on it.

A cracking sound, a gush of fire… darkness…

Applejack froze, hoof an inch from her face.

Something tugged at the back of her mind – a memory, shrouded in darkness and inconsistency. Something had happened to her. Rainbow, staring at her in shock… then… wrongness. It was unexplainable beyond that. Whatever had happened, it’d felt… wrong.

Thoughts whirled through her head, agitating her headache. Twilight, Rainbow, Fluttershy, and that stallion fella… Ah bet they were talkin’ about… about me. But then, that would mean… Ugh, Ah don’t know!

Frustration at her enfeebled state lanced through her, found no purchase, and burned away to disgruntlement instead.

She couldn’t get her brain to work. Not that it often helped her to think; most of the times, thinking only made things worse. She wasn’t like Twilight; working things out in her head wasn’t one of her strong suits. Her brain just didn’t work like that. What did work, however, was finding answers the good old fashioned way; by going to somepony who knew them.

Even with legs that felt only slightly lighter than lead pipes, Applejack swung herself onto the edge of the bed, then took a second to collect herself. She took a deep breath, then…

tip-tip-tippity-tap…

She flinched, her spine crawling. The sound again…

It didn’t relent, and Applejack was able to quickly trace it to the other wall behind her. This time, though, she wasn’t going to cower.

Applejack jumped free of the bed, whirled around, ready to defend herself, and was confronted by…

A pair of olive-colored drapes, through which only a dull grey light filtered. Through the narrow gap near the base, Applejack saw the frame of a window set into the root walls of her room – a window that was streaked with rivulets of water.

Rain. It was just the rain.

The sound, it seemed, was coming from water dribbling from someplace higher – a tree, perhaps – and striking the sill with big, fat droplets. Not a monster of inky darkness.

Applejack sighed, the tension rolling out of her body and replacing it with a whole new sense of exhaustion.

Jumpin’ at shadows and dreams now, huh AJ? C’mon, y’all are better than that…

The tired changeling shook her head, then turned and headed for the door before she lost any more of her dignity. She had to find answers to what was going on. She had to…

So much to do… so little time to enjoy it in…

She shivered, this time for reasons unrelated to the sweat clinging to her skin. First, perhaps a hot, relaxing shower was in her future.

Applejack made for the door, more than ready to be gone from that dark, unsettling place, when to her surprise, the door clicked open ahead of her.

Still almost five feet away, the door swung inward, letting the light of the hallway beyond gush in.

And there, in the doorway, stood Rainbow.

It was hard to tell who was more surprised in that moment; Applejack or Dash. Both froze midstride, stiffening at the sight of the other.

Rainbow was no longer wearing the changeling armor she’d been given. She was once more unadorned, except for the book she had tucked under one of her wings and a Wonderbolts water bottle tucked under the other. To look at her, one would think she was about to settle in for a long haul of reading, confusing Applejack more than it perhaps should’ve.

They both stayed motionless for a few seconds – long enough for Rainbow’s book to hit the floor with a thud.

“A-Applejack?” she finally got out.

Her voice was what broke the spell. All of a sudden, Applejack found Rainbow right in her face, nearly making her stagger backwards.

“Oh my gosh, Applejack!” Rainbow cried out, “You’re up! Oh my gosh, how are you feeling?”

Applejack blinked slowly at her. She didn’t yet have it in her to keep up with the rambunctious mare, but she was getting there. “Ah… Ah’ve been better,” she mumbled.

She then glanced behind Rainbow, expecting to see more faces leaning around the doorframe to look at her as well. But the hallway beyond was vacant; at least, from what she could see, which was basically just a stretch of wooden wall paneling, a hanging basket of flowers, and nothing else.

“…Where is everypony?” Applejack asked blearily. “Is… is everypony alright? Did Ah…”

A sense of panic stung at her, rising up out of nowhere. Suddenly, her inability to think clearly and precisely made her feel congested, stifled. “Did Ah… hurt somepony? Is everypony…?”

Her voice evaporated when she felt a strong pair of hooves take her by the shoulders. “Whoa, whoa, calm down,” Rainbow said. She may have even tried to make it sound soothing, but ‘soothing’ was not a tone of voice the pegasus got much mileage out of.

“Everypony’s fine. They’re fine, I promise. Hay, they’re more worried about you, you know.”

The sense of panic started to ebb. The warm hooves – strong and bracing – seemed to leech it out of her, like a warm blanket on a winter night.

Without a word, Rainbow began pushing Applejack back to the bed, and she complied without speaking, either. She allowed herself to be guided back and took a seat on the edge. But she knew her time as an invalid was over, even if she had to force herself to buck up.

“Ya didn’t answer my question, sugarcube,” Applejack grunted as soon as she’d gotten off her hooves.

Rainbow took a seat next to her, yet for some reason she didn’t meet Applejack’s searching gaze. “Yeah, well… some stuff happened while you were out. Everypony kinda… left.”

Applejack’s eyes’ widened. “Left? When? Where?”

Rainbow scrutinized her friend’s face, as if trying to judge whether she was really up for this conversation.

“You know AJ… you look terrible,” she commented. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

“Focus, RD. What happened?”

Rainbow winced, her lame attempt to change the subject thwarted. “It’s really not that serious. Really!” she repeated, seeing the look on Applejack’s face. “Look, Twilight just went to Canterlot with the princesses to do egghead stuff, and Rarity and Fluttershy only left for the Crystal Empire, like, two hours ago with Cadance and Shining Armor to go check on something while Pinkie’s doing her best to keep the rest of the changelings entertained while you’re resting. See? Nothing major, right?”

Applejack crooked a disbelieving eyebrow at her friend. “Rainbow, what part of that doesn’t sound major?”

Dash hesitated, then gave her biggest, winningest smile. “All of it?” she said hopefully.

The deadpan look she got in response was all the answer she needed.

“Y’all are the most lousy salespony Ah have ever met,” Applejack grunted bluntly, “and Ah’ve met two of the worst.”

Finally, Rainbow’s expression arranged itself into a more appropriate scowl. “Oh come on, Applejack, I just don’t want you to worry. A-After what you’ve been through…” she paused, shook her head quickly, then started again. “You’ve barely woken up. Why do you want to sweat the small stuff already? Just take it easy for little bit.”

Applejack sighed, looking away. She was quiet for a long time while she stared into space, expression blank. ‘Taking it easy’ was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. On the inside, she was restless, too restless to even think about relaxing. She had to move, do something, get something done. She needed too many answers to just lie back down and wait for the shadow monster to come back to haunt her.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet. “How long was Ah out?”

Rainbow fidgeted uncomfortably, then responded, her voice just as low.

“Since… since yesterday.”

Applejack stiffened in surprise. A day? A full day? She could’ve sworn it’d only been a matter of hours at the most.

A full day… that was a long time for something to happen. Now she was even less inclined to spend another second in that small room.

For the second time that morning, she reached up towards her forehead, and this time, she actually touched it.

Smooth, leathery chitin met her touch… along with a network of noticeable ridges.

Without a word, Applejack hopped down from the bed. Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, pounding and fluttering fitfully.

Aware of Rainbow ghosting her the whole way, she stepped closer towards the vanity mirror in the corner, and moved in front of it.

Rainbow had not been exaggerating; she looked terrible. Her mane was stuck to her neck and shoulders by sweat, swirls of amber hair caked to her chitin all over the place. Her braid had come undone; either by worried hooves or the force of the explosion, Applejack would never know.

Her face was pale, ashen even, making her black face look almost milky, sickly. She looked almost gaunt, like she’d lost weight in the span of a night.

And across her horn and forehead, the cracks remained. It was as if a portion of her face had petrified before it was fractured by a cruel blow. When she reached up and touched it, the rough edges of the cracks didn’t feel like skin at all, but like stone – hard and unyielding… and unusually cold. Nothing under her hoof felt like it belonged to her anymore, like it wasn’t even a part of her. It felt like her whole forehead had simply… died.

Applejack gulped, prodding the cracked and ruined chitin, hoping for some sort of sensation. Nothing… only the faintest sense of pressure, nothing more.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rainbow’s reflection as she watched Applejack in the mirror, and right then, it was hard to tell who looked worse.

Her heart was thumping even harder than before, punching her in the ribs again and again.

This… this is wrong. It… it ain’t supposed ta be like this, she thought.

Every time she’d molted before, it’d happened all at once, even without warning. And when it’d happened, it’d felt… wonderful. Like being freed from undersized clothes she’d been wearing for days on end. Like… like being released from a plaster cast or a hospital bed and being free to hop, skip and play to her heart’s content. It’d been freeing, liberating in the most awesome sense of the word.

But this… the sensation she’d felt the day before… it was anything but freeing. It was a primal, awful sense of wrongness, of… of… she simply didn’t have the words. It wasn’t pain, it wasn’t fear. It was simply… wrongness, like every bad feeling rolled up into one nasty, sickening wad and blended together until there was no distinction between them.

Applejack gulped again, licking her lips, her eyes fixed on her cracked and ruined horn. She couldn’t see what lay beneath it through the thin cracks, but… for some reason… she desperately wished she’d never find out what did. 

Something compelled her to change then. Be it fear, anxiety, or any number of reasons, the sight of her splintered chitin was almost unhealthy for her to look at, like doing so was slowly but surely putting her in shock.

The emerald flames wrapped around her body, catching Rainbow by surprise and momentarily dying the whole bedchamber a bright, vivid shade of green.

When it was gone, and Applejack’s eyes had readjusted to the gloom, she found herself staring once again at an orange earth pony – albeit one who looked, as Rainbow had put it, terrible. At least she didn’t have to worry about being sweaty anymore.

But her eyes did not leave her fuzzy forehead. The broken and scarred chitin wasn’t there anymore, true… but it was in her mind. And to her horror, the numbness was not so imaginary.

“Applejack?”

She turned then – maybe a little too quickly – from the mirror to look at Rainbow.

Rainbow was looking back at her, and Applejack felt that both of their haunted, anxious expressions were mirrors of each other.

“Rainbow… what’s happenin’ ta me?” she breathed, her voice quivering. “What… what am Ah turnin’ into?”

She was scared; scared and fully unable to dismiss it as irrelevant. In the face of this unknown, even her strong heart quavered.

An outside source she could deal with; an aggressor, a task, something she could get her hooves around. But if the aggressor was herself… what was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to overcome this?

For a moment, it seemed like not even Rainbow – strong, dependable Rainbow – would have an answer to be Applejack’s saving grace.

Then, her expression hardened, her eyes flashing. “Applejack, follow me; there’s somepony you really need to talk to.”


~~***~~


Of all the places in the changeling district, there was one rarely glimpsed by pony eyes. It was not blatantly hidden or disguised, either; it was simply a place of seemingly little import, positioned on the other side of the already wondrous and captivating sights of the district. Most ponies simply never made it that far. It bore no signs, no official or grand markings, nor was it placed in any particularly notable location.

Yet, it was anything but insignificant.

Five blocks from the main square, tucked along the slope of a shallow hill on the very edge of the district, amidst a quartet magically grown weeping willows the size of cathedrals, stood perhaps the only structure in the district that had been built, not cultivated. It’s wooden walls were unpainted oak, plain and ordinary without embellishment or flourish. Yet, it could hardly be called a standard building by a pony’s standards.

The longhouse at its base had been built around the unusually large willows, with further structures snaking their way over and even through the trees themselves higher up, like the world’s grandest tree house. 

The ground levels were tucked up into a recess in the ground, with the willow’s roots growing over the actual structure itself like the talons of some bird of prey perching on its roost. Balconies and walkways wound around the willows’ broad trunks and across its boughs, the architecture perfectly designed to mesh as seamlessly with its living foundation as possible yet virtually hidden behind the hanging curtains of willow branches. 

A single curved terrace hung out over the longhouse’s front from halfway up the sprawling tree, giving a commanding – but discrete – view of most of the changeling district and a good portion of the woodlands beyond through the long cascades of hanging branches and leafs.

Baskets of hanging flowers – some as big around as wine barrels – hung off of branches, eaves, sturdy poles; whatever could bear their weight, filling the air both inside and out with the mild scent of wildflowers. Where they could not be hung, they were simply set on the floor in planters, so that the coverage was consistent and orderly.

The moment Applejack stepped onto the landing and stepped out onto the terrace, she almost kicked herself for not recognizing where she was. Celestia knew she’d spent enough time there in recent months, even oversaw it’s construction once she was able to get all four legs under herself again.

If the changelings in Equestria had a seat of power, the Vivarium was it. Of course, it was no castle or palace, or anything of the sort; if anything, it was more like a headquarters than any of those other things. It was clean and elegant, but hardly regal, and never dull.

Changelings were always bustling about the Vivarium, regardless of where one was. Even by the district’s activity levels, the Vivarium was constantly abuzz, like the heart of an ant colony. Be it drones bringing news from other parts of Equestria, or coordinating more local efforts – the list went on, probably well beyond what Applejack knew of.

When Applejack emerged from the passageway that’d been carved straight into one of the willow’s trunks and into the open air on the terrace, however, she discovered a new kind of presence, one she was somewhat unprepared for.

Right at the mouth, she encountered a dual set of changelings, both standing in familiar, stoic positions, both clad in sweeping brown cloaks. Neither was armed, but when one came bearing such sharp fangs and pointed horns, something to preoccupy their hooves wasn’t entirely necessary.

Guards… there was a guard detail waiting outside of where she’d been resting. They didn’t react to her presence, never turned to look anywhere else other than straight ahead with somber, icy stares. But just two steps beyond them and they fell into step behind Applejack and Rainbow Dash without comment.

Applejack glanced at them, then turned to Rainbow questioningly. The pegasus merely shrugged, looking like she wanted to say more, but restrained herself.

As they progressed through the Vivarium, Applejack saw more guards positioned strategically at every entryway. As she and Rainbow made their way across the terrace, the branches rustled overhead, giving away two more perched amongst the brush, icy eyes unblinking and watchful.

Applejack followed their gaze, wondering if maybe they’d seen something out over the trees. But besides a light drizzle and cool wind, she didn’t find much of note; trees, an undeveloped valley that ran the periphery of the changeling district, and hills covered in a dark, brooding forest. Besides the cascades of willow branches swaying in the breeze, nothing else caught her eye.

The rain confused her, though. She was sheltered enough by the gigantic tree’s boughs that none of the drops landed on her, but the presence of rain was as unexpected as the guards. As far as she knew, they weren’t due for a shower for at least another week or so, and that was something she kept on top of for the orchards’ sake.

She glanced up at it curiously, then towards Rainbow. To her surprise, Dash was watching her. As soon as Applejack turned her amber eyes onto her, Rainbow shrugged.

“Uh, some ponies thought you might like some cooler weather,” she said in an offhand kind of way. “Might make you feel better than, you know, sweltering heat, or… something.”

Applejack, however, was unconvinced. She raised an eyebrow, which caused Rainbow to suddenly take a keen interest in the overhanging baskets of flowers. “Some ponies?”

“Yep,” Rainbow grunted. “Some. Some who might have been just a little worried. And some who might owe their moms, like, five years’ worth of favors, you know, so try to be a little grateful. For their sakes, I mean. It wasn’t easy getting an unscheduled rainstorm approved.”

Applejacks brow reached the apex of its range and didn’t come down. “Uh-huh…”

Rainbow was quiet for a moment, then glanced sheepishly in the weary faux earth pony’s direction. “Bad salespony?”

“Bad salespony.”

She chuckled. “Eh heh… well, okay, maybe I had a little something to do with it. Aaand I may have enslaved myself to mom until the day Celestia bites it, but you know… details.”

Something crossed Applejack’s lips then – a sound she didn’t expect. She actually chuckled back.

Rainbow heard it, unfortunately. She stood up a little straighter, her slight smile turning into a cockier grin. “So, all I have to do is knock off Celestia, and I’m off the hook! See, no big deal. It’s fool-proof!”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Landsakes, yer the hardest workin’ lazy pony Ah have ever met.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said wistfully. “It’s great.”

Applejack couldn’t help it; she laughed. Just like she did every time she was in a dark place and Rainbow was around. It was raining drearily outside, but it sure felt like the warm sun was on her. In that moment, she didn’t mind the guards trailing after them, or the numbness on her forehead, or the stiffness in her legs. Such was the power of the cyan pegasus’ company.

A shoulder bumped into hers, drawing her attention back to Rainbow. She smiled, a more heartfelt smile this time – not one full of bravado or pride, but one that came for a more well-meaning place.

“I’m glad you’re alright, bug-brain,” Rainbow said. “Just… don’t scared m-us so much, okay?”

Applejack smiled back – actually found it in her to smile. Then, after leaning to one side to bump her companion back, she said, “Ah will of y’all will, sugarcube.”

Rainbow’s expression warmed. “Deal.”


~~***~~


As she expected, the interior of the Vivarium was packed with activity. Even the courtyard they passed was buzzing with energetic changelings – more than Applejack was accustomed to seeing. The frenetic volume of drones coming and going could be heard long before the source was seen; changelings holding serious conversations without a laugh to be heard or a smile to be seen. There was a constant flow coming in and going out, a conga line going in both directions.

Even during the Summer Sun Celebration preparations, the Vivarium had not been nearly as pack as it was, or boiling with such barely contained energy.

Fortunately, she and Rainbow followed along an upper walkway, where few eyes were trained. Only the guards watched them pass, and none broke their silent vigils to point her out, thankfully.

Applejack’s mood was improved, but not back to normal. At the moment, she didn’t see how she would be able to deal with another onslaught of worried changelings. At least, not before she got some answers. A part of her wanted to stop and see what was going on, but if so much as one drone spotted her, she could probably kiss her morning goodbye.

She hadn’t asked where they were going, but she also noticed that Rainbow wasn’t wandering. They were going somewhere, somewhere specific. She would just have to trust her friend to know where she was going. After all, if there was a pony alive who knew the place as well as she did, it was Rainbow.

The interior of the Vivarium was cool, well ventilated, and smelled of flowers. The second floor was dimly lit, however; vines laden with glowing bulbs adorned the walls, but they seemed scrawny and stunted, producing only a candle flame’s worth of light each.

The second floor was, after all, a more somber place. Business here wasn’t so hyperactive, and more often than not, concerned more than just the interests of changelings alone. Drones were not out in the hallways, but instead sequestered inside offices and meeting rooms, their voices dull background murmurs without distinct direction. 

The only times Applejack had visited, it hadn’t been to shoot the breeze. The fact that they were sticking up there and not going to a lower floor only added more concern to a building list inside of Applejack.

Rainbow abruptly hung a right, passing through an archway that carved its way through a massive side of a trunk flanked by pots of bright red flowers; namely, two great big, well-manicured rose bushes. It was about then that Applejack realized where she was going.

Roseluck, however, wasn’t always in her office. The duality of her life made it so, just as much as Applejack’s did. True she was one of the most important and busy changelings around, but she spent just as much time – if not more – at the flower shop with her sisters. Roseluck, like Applejack, was only ever there when she needed to be.

Rainbow didn’t seem to be bothered however, and after crossing the short recess, bumped open the door like she knew it’d be unlocked all along.

Sure enough, Rose was there, sitting behind a desk. 

Even so many months after getting it, she looked out of place in such an official station. She’d tried to spruce up the place with the many, many varieties of flowers her shop produced; virtually every piece of furniture had a pot or a vase budding with some colorful flower or other. 

Filing cabinets had bouquets of lilies, her desk was covered in potted daisies, a table along the back wall was lined with pictures of familiar faces, knickknacks with meaning only to Roseluck, all underneath a wreath of flowers wide enough for Big Macintosh to jump through. 

But despite her best efforts, it couldn’t quite diminish the air of official power the place had, or how much it contrasted against her simple appearance. Just looking at her office gave the correct impression; that there was a mild-mannered shop owner sitting in a presidential suite.

She’d been glancing over some paperwork with a cursory scan, reading by the light of a brass lamp, when she heard the door open.

Rose looked tired, almost as tired as Applejack felt. Her disguised pony form’s mane was ruffled and unkempt from long hours of leaning her head on one hoof or the other. There were bags under her eyes that hadn’t been there before, and even with three mugs of coffee scattered about her desk in front of her, she looked on the verge of passing out.

When she saw Rainbow push into the room, her features arranged themselves into a friendly – if not weary – smile. When she saw Applejack, she about had a heart attack.

Her jaw fell open, abandoning her initial greeting. Her eyes shot open just as wide. It lasted a moment – maybe a testament to how exhausted she was – before she leapt from her chair and shot forward.

“Oh Maker, Applejack! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” she asked in rapid succession. Without waiting for a response, she added, “You really should be resting. You barely look like you can stand!”

“No more than you,” Applejack said with a soft smile. “When was the last time ya slept, Rose?”

Roseluck just waved her question away. “Oh dear, don’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse. One all-nighter never hurt me before.”

While Applejack seriously questioned how many all-nighters a small-town florist would have to pull, she let it drop. 

She did notice, however, how Roseluck’s eyes kept glancing to her forehead, where her cracked horn should’ve been. All she saw was orange fur and blonde bangs, of course, but the tightness of her eyes made it seem like she could see straight through the disguise altogether.

Having Rainbow look at her with worry had been one thing. Having another changeling give her an identical, equally anxious look… it was somehow even more disquieting.

“Applejack, I really do think you should rest,” Roseluck persisted. “You’re barely on your hooves again, and after what you’ve been through… you need to conserve your strength, at least until you’ve recovered a little more.”

“Ah can’t just lie around while everypony else is off doin’ Celestia knows what, especially if Ah’m the reason for it,” Applejack countered without force. “Ah don’t even know what the hay is going on.”

She wanted to add something about the shadow monster – how she really didn’t want to go back to that room, to close her eyes… But it was foalish; stupid and foalish. She was a grown mare, one who wouldn’t believe in nightmares.

What surprised her was when Rose didn’t back down. “And you’ll be less than helpful if you exhaust yourself and collapse again,” she argued.

Applejack had not been expecting so much resistance from the usually subordinate changeling. Did she really look that bad?

“Look, Rose,” Applejack said, “Ah know somethin’ is up. Ah need ta know what happened ta me.”

Roseluck bit her lip. The welfare of her queen’s health and a desire to help warred almost visibly in her eyes, her expression becoming conflicted. But her reluctance only had the opposite of its desired effect; it made Applejack even more concerned. To see Roseluck so reluctant to grant her request… something squirmed inside of Applejack, something she didn’t like; something ominous.

But she couldn’t just back off, not now. She had to know if there were answers, and she had to know them if there were. She had to make sense of all of this, before the wrongness came back again…

She took a step closer, regaining Rose’s attention. “Both of us know that this ain’t how changelin’s shed,” she pointed out firmly. “If it happened like it was supposed to, Ah’d be over it already and there’d be no reason ta fuss. Somethin’s wrong, and Ah need ta know how ta fix it. Please, Rose… Ah need ta know what’s goin’ on with me.”

Roseluck’s expression grew heavy, and she sighed. She didn’t even seem to register the fact that Applejack – her queen – had just said ‘please’ to her. And yet that may have actually been the only reason she relented in her reluctance.

Rose slumped, looking somehow even more tired than ever before. She fell quiet as she gazed off to one side – at a potted plant in the place of honor at her desk, one with bright red, clustered flowers.

“Sometimes,” she muttered quietly, “I don’t like being reminded which parts of her you take after the most…”

She glanced up, towards Applejack and away from the small, potted carnation plant. “No one could ever talk sense into her, either,” she said with a sigh. “Not when she made up her mind. But… I suppose we wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t true.”

Roseluck’s eyes pinched shut, as if she were pained. When she didn’t immediately speak up again, Applejack made to say something.

However, Rainbow beat her to the punch.

“Come on, Rose,” she said, a slight edge of impatience in her voice, “let’s just let her talk to Agave. She won’t wear herself out from talking, and Applejack will get what she wants. It’s a win-win.”

Roseluck’s eyes flashed open, an edge to her stare now. “It’s not the talking part I’m worried about,” she said testily.

Her temper took Applejack by surprise, as it did Rainbow. She must have been a lot more tired than they’d deduced. That had to be it… right?

Again, Roseluck’s eyes pinched shut. This time, she rubbed her eyes as well. When she spoke next, her voice wasn’t as hard; in fact, it seemed so tired, so slow, it was almost as if she was speaking in her sleep.

“I… know I can’t stop you one way or the other,” she mumbled. “But… you can’t blame me for trying, Rainbow… can you? You know what she’ll learn… and you know what it’ll do to her. All I want is to protect my queen for as long as possible. That’s all.”

Applejack glanced over her shoulder towards her friend, who did not meet her eye.

“Yeah. And I know what keeping her out of the loop will do, too,” Rainbow countered. “Rose, I only came here to let you know AJ’s awake. I’m not here to ask your permission. One way or another, this is happening, but I’d much rather have you on board, too.”

Roseluck sighed again, this time, in defeat. “Yes, I know. I just wanted her to be a little better prepared, that’s all.”

“Can y’all not talk like Ah ain’t right here,” Applejack objected, then glanced towards Roseluck. “If it’s such a problem, why don’t the two of ya try ta break it to me softly?”

But Roseluck shook her head. “No. You really should hear it from Agave. Just… promise me one thing, Applejack.”

“What’s that?”

“That… you won’t push yourself too hard. I shouldn’t need to remind you that you’re all we have left.”

Applejack paused, caught off guard by the gloom in Roseluck’s voice. Then, she nodded. “Ah do, Rose. Ah know it more than anypony.”

But the look she got in return seemed to question that statement. In the end, Roseluck kept her mouth shut, however.

She sighed again, then slid out of her chair, stretched her weary hooves a little bit, then rounded her desk to approach the equally tired-looking queen.

As she approached, her expression flickered, the corners of her mouth twitching up slightly. “It’s… good to see you recovering, Applejack,” she said sincerely. “It really is. The rest will be overjoyed to know you’re alright. Please, follow me; Agave’s been waiting to speak to you, too.”


~~***~~


Applejack followed Roseluck even deeper into the Vivarium, back where there were no windows. With her leading the way and Rainbow following alongside her friend and two guards shadowing their every step, Applejack couldn’t help but feel like a captive being transferred to a new prison. It was irrational, but the feeling in the air was an unsettlingly somber one.

As they walked down a gently spiraling staircase built into a willow trunk, Applejack let her mind turn away from the grim convoy she’d become a part of and allowed her thoughts to wander where they may.

They didn’t wander far, however.

Agave… What was so special about little Agave? First she’d tried to warn her – not once, but twice – then everypony was so eager to speak to her… She didn’t understand it.

How she could be related to her problems, Applejack didn’t know, but she got the feeling she wouldn’t like it regardless.

Down they went, down one flight of stairs, then another. Down passed the first floor landing, and into the basement.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t really a ‘basement’. Instead of finding herself emerging into a stuffy room, she found herself confronted by a hollow in the earth at the base of one of the mighty willow trees. Its roots made a de facto roof and walls, and yet it was still high enough that Applejack never felt the need to duck her head.

The space hadn’t been dug out at all – if anything, it appeared like the weeping willow tree above them had grown partially into a gaping crevice. It would certainly explain the massive boulders flanking the walls and the fine, loose gravel under their hooves.

More vines of light bulbs hung from the roots like ivy, bringing soft, inviting light to the dark, damp interior.

As the group approached, Applejack spotted a feature that rather perplexed her.

The rooms earthen floor bowled slightly near the middle, just enough that Applejack could just discern the slope with her eyes, but it wasn’t distinct enough for her to actually feel it. At the very center of the room, directly under an imitation chandelier of twisted roots and light bulb vines, there was a stone circle nearly twelve feet across. Strangely, it seemed to be filled with a shallow pool of crystal clear water, hardly deeper than a puddle.

And at the edge of that pool sat Agave.

The blue-maned pegasus had her back to them, and seemed to have her head turned down, as if staring into the pool. Yet Applejack could see her ears turned back in their direction; she knew she wasn’t alone.

Not that that changed much for her. The further along Applejack went, the more she made out changelings in the dark corners of the room – hooded changelings, all on guard, all watching carefully, silently.

To one side of the stone ring, there as a simple bed tucked up under the cover of more roots; a small mattress covered with blankets and pillows. a stack of books stood to one side, along with large sheets of paper covered in scattered crayons left wherever they may be. 

And on the bed itself was one of the strangest stuffed animals Applejack had ever seen. If she had to guess, it might’ve been an absurdly cute rendition of a manticore, perhaps one of the most un-cute creatures Applejack had ever had the displeasure of running across in the flesh. Whoever could look at such a beast and envision a foal’s toy would need to be very twisted indeed.

Roseluck paused all of a sudden, just beyond the clearing in the roots in which the stone pool – and Agave – sat, where the roots didn’t go. She stepped to one side, her expression determinedly posed as mute, and without a word, let Applejack step past her.

Applejack turned to give Rainbow a weird look, which earned her a grimace in return.

With that less-than encouraging sign, Applejack took a breath, steadied herself, then stepped out into the brighter light encircling the stone pool, Rainbow close on her heels.

She’d only barely taken two steps in when Agave twitched, then looked around curiously.

The moment she saw Applejack, a huge, beaming smile brightened her face. It was so big that Applejack pulled up short, rather taken aback.

“Applejack! You’re awake!” Agave cheered, turned, and bounded towards her eagerly.

This had not been the reaction Applejack had been expecting. The way her day had been going, she’d been anticipating more grim faces, more gloomy words, not the excited fervor of the growing filly.

“Uh, yeah. Just woke up, actually,” Applejack commented, sounding rather numb and tactless even to herself.

Agave nodded, still smiling. “You look like it, hehe.”

She giggled. She’d actually giggled. And she’d made fun of her? As if this day wasn’t strange enough…

“Well, now that you’re awake, we can get to work!” Agave added.

“Get ta work?” Applejack repeated dumbly. “Get ta work on what, exactly?”

Agave just smiled. “Saving Equestria, of course.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Agave… Ah thought we were gonna talk about what’s goin’ on with me.”

“We are,” Agave responded with a quick nod.

“And… both those things… are related?” Applejack asked, carefully neutral.

The little pegasus hesitated, her eyes still on Applejack. Then she glanced to Rainbow, then back to Applejack, and comprehension dawned in her eyes. Finally, her smile shrank, her big eyes looking like they could see straight through the fake earth pony’s tired façade.

“Yeah, they are. Uh… Did Rainbow not tell you anything? I kinda thought she would.”

Applejack resisted the urge to turn to shoot her friend a look, instead keeping her attention on Agave. “She wanted me ta talk ta you first. Agave… what's this all about?”

Agave bit her lip. Now she looked troubled, even nervous. “W-well, I thought Rainbow would tell you, then you showing up here meant that you weren’t mad at me, and… uh…”

Applejack just looked at Agave, fighting back her scrutinizing scowl. It made her too aware of her unfeeling forehead.

Agave, meanwhile, composed herself, becoming much more subdued. “Um… well if you wouldn’t mind, Applejack, could I… um, could you show me what happened?”

Applejack could feel Rainbow’s and Roseluck’s eyes on the side and back of her head then. She suddenly felt particularly aware of the presence of so many guards, all eyes aimed in her general direction, not to mention Agave’s keen attention. She hesitated, misgivings slowing her down.

“Please?” asked Agave, taking a step closer tentatively.

“Why?” Applejack asked, narrowing her eyes questioningly at the little filly.

Agave shuffled, looking around for a second before returning towards the bigger changeling again. “Well… I might be able to tell how much time we have left. I promise to be quick.”

Still, Applejack hesitated. Part of it was that she still didn’t know how Agave fit into the grand scheme of things. Seeing the security measures around the room only exasperated her misgivings further.

Secondly, she simply didn’t feel comfortable revealing the damage her own body had inflicted upon itself. It felt… exposing, like admitting some very personal weakness. And Applejack did not make a habit of wearing her weaknesses where they could be easily seen.

“It’s okay, AJ,” spoke up Rainbow unexpectedly. Applejack turned her head to find Rainbow, one corner of her mouth crooked up in a supportive grin. Being a proud mare herself, though, it wasn’t like she couldn’t empathize with matters of pride. “We’ve all talked to her already. Trust me; she’s here to help.”

Whether Agave was there to help or not was not the issue, though. Of course, knowing that did help, but it didn’t change Applejack’s opinion on the situation a whole lot.

But… which did she want more? To preserve her pride? Or to figure out what was happening to her? When she phrased it like that to herself, the answer seemed kind of obvious.

Looking resigned, she allowed the plume of emerald fire to engulf her bodily, burning away her guise in a flash and leaving her tarnished changeling form exposed for all to see.

Applejack kept her attention on Agave, for fear of picking up on reactions for those around her. Thankfully, the room had simply gone quiet – almost stiflingly so.

Agave didn’t gasp, or turn pale, or react in any way like that. A glimpse of something did cross her eyes, but to Applejack’s surprise, she fought it down in quick order. For such a young pony, she was awfully tactful.

The little pegasus carefully approached, walking right up to Applejack before craning her neck to get a better look. Applejack lowered her head slightly, far enough so that the young pony wouldn’t have to struggle to see whatever it was she was looking for. She would much rather be done with this whole thing as soon as possible.

Agave stared unblinkingly, her eyes scanning over the cracked and ruined chitin. Then, to Applejack’s complete surprise, she picked herself up on her hind legs – just high enough to raise one hoof and lightly touch Applejack’s forehead.

Nothing. No sensation of her little hoof poking or prodding or whatever it was doing. If Applejack wasn’t witnessing it herself, she’d never have known that Agave was touching her.

After a few moments, Agave politely backed up, looking thoughtful.

“Well?” Applejack asked, unable to contain herself.

Agave continued to think, looking down. She didn’t even seem to have heard her. “It’s not as bad as I thought,” she mumbled to herself, thinking aloud. “Which means… Yes, it means there’s a few days left.”

“Before what?” Applejack asked. She was starting to get impatient; so far, she’d only accumulated more confusion than she’d banished, and it was starting to wear on her.

Agave continued backing up, one slow step at a time, until she’d reached where she’d been sitting before. The whole way, she looked like she was trying to decide how best to answer Applejack’s question. But Applejack herself could tell, just by looking at Agave’s nervous demeanor, that she wasn’t going to like what came out of her mouth, regardless of how much thought she put into it.

“Before you go through what all queens go through,” she said. She sat down again, watching Applejack carefully. “The final step in actually becoming a queen; a third molt.”

Applejack blinked. Again, the amount of questions was only rising… “Ah don’t get it,” she said honestly. “Don’t all changelin’s shed three times?”

Agave shook her head. “No. Only queens do. That’s why no one really noticed your symptoms earlier, or recognized them at all. I don’t even know all about it; I just… heard about it.”

Applejack raised her eyebrow. “Ya heard about it? From where?”

This, however, seemed to make Agave even more nervous. She shrank even more, gauging Applejack’s every move as if expecting her to explode with rage upon her next word.

“From… the Royal Court.”

Now both of Applejack’s eyebrows were up, going from skeptical to surprised in only four words. Her heart thudded in her chest, and suddenly, the filly had her undivided attention.

The next one to speak, however, wasn’t either of them.

“Maybe you should show her, Agave,” said Rainbow as she stepped up beside Applejack.

Something ran through the room then, something Applejack noticed. Fabric rustled restlessly as a small platoon of guards straightened up, shifted, and refocused their gazes on what was happening. It was like a sigh running through the room, quiet as a ghost, and just as eerie. None of the guards stepped forward, but she could practically feel their attention coming to rest on the center of the underground hollow with her.

Agave bit her lip, looking even more apprehensive than ever before. She looked as if she very much wanted to object, her eyes constantly flicking towards Applejack worriedly.

Then, she looked towards Rainbow, who nodded back with a small smile. Applejack witnessed this whole exchange, and it only perplexed her further.

Agave waffled for a brief moment more, then she stood up with a look of resignation. “Al… Alright. I… suppose it is for the best,” she said, and a moment later, she shapeshifted.

Applejack was only confused for a fraction of a second, as long as it took for the emerald flames to blow away Agave’s silver-grey fur coat and replace it with a black chitin.

But her mane didn’t disintegrate into a short, frayed scruff of dark grey hair. Her eyes didn’t become luminescent blue balls of light in her head. The carapace on her back did not turn dark midnight blue.

Even as Applejack stared at Agave’s undisguised form, it took her a while to process what she was seeing – and that it wasn’t the visage of a drone.

Mulberry, double-ringed eyes watched her with an almost panicky edge from behind a precisely trimmed, perfectly straight mane of sapphire blue. None of these things belonged to a drone, Applejack knew that. Which only meant one thing…

When the realization hit her, Applejack’s nostrils flared in alarm. She flinched back a step, as if Agave’s transformation had been a lot more violent and shocking than it’d actually been.

“Y-yer a…,” Applejack started to say. She felt like the world had just flipped on its head, throwing her for a loop and possibly bashing her own head in the process. She blinked hard, thinking maybe she was hallucinating – a bad dream that had actually followed her into the waking world.

But Agave stayed where she’d been, legs held so tightly together she looked like she was trying to collapse in on herself like a folding chair. Her now transparent wings didn’t flutter at all, and in fact clung to her blue carapace as if she were hugging herself. She watched Appeljack’s every move, and judging by the look in her strange eyes, everything was happening that she’d feared would happen.

Applejack opened her mouth to say something – something she hadn’t fully processed yet – when out of nowhere, Rainbow was standing in front of her.

“Hang on, AJ,” she said quickly after practically throwing herself in between the two of them, “I know what it looks like, but she’s here to help, I swear!”

Now Applejack turned to scrutinize Rainbow, questioning her with her eyes alone… for now.

“I know she’s a queen, but that’s why she knows these things,” Rainbow went on quickly, recognizing Applejack’s look. That was the same look she always got when one of her stunts ended up leaving collateral damage, damage Applejack and her brother would have to fix. If she didn’t explain herself – and fast – it always led to a lecture and an angry apple farmer. 

“See, queens keep a lot of things from the rest of the hive,” Rainbow said as fast as she could, almost so fast that she stumbled over her own words. “Like, a lot of things. You don’t even know…”

“Rainbow,” Applejack warned, her lips starting to purse.

“Okay, okay, just hear me out, AJ,” Rainbow implored. “Look, Agave’s already explained herself to Twilight and the others, the princesses, Shining Armor, Roseluck and the others, and we all believe she’s telling the truth. Do I look like I’m lying about this, AJ?”

But Applejack looked unconvinced. “Then why is she bein’ kept prisoner down here?” she asked pointedly.

The reaction she got was not the one she’d been expecting. Rainbow gave her a weird look like she’d just said something ludicrous. “What? No, no, she’s not being kept prisoner at all! All of this –” she gestured around “– is to keep her safe from the Royal Court… mostly.”

Rainbow tried to downplay that last word as saying it as softly as possible. But of course, Applejack locked onto it for the simple reason that she’d said it so strangely.

“Mostly?”

Rainbow grimaced. “Well, you see… when I was, um… captured yesterday…”


~~***~~


Rainbow had only gotten part way through her recount of what had happened the day prior before Applejack sat down hard. She ground her hooves against her temples, her eyes screwed shut – but even that didn’t hide the look of pure irritation that she wore.

“Hold it right there, sugarcube,” She said sharply. “Ya mean ta tell me that there was a queen in Ponyville yesterday?”

“U-uh, yeah, kinda,” Rainbow said carefully. Not carefully enough.

Applejack’s eyes flashed open, real anger in them now. “And did y’all do anythin’ about it? What are we supposed to do with a queen runnin’ around Equestria loose as a fox in a chicken coop? A queen who, Ah might add, don’t care much for me?”

“One,” Rainbow countered, her own temper flaring to her defense, “I was a little preoccupied with finding you and making sure you were alright. Two, we did do something about it after we put our heads together.”

“And?” Applejack shot.

“And she was already long gone,” Rainbow admitted. “It’s the weirdest thing, actually. All of Ponyville was locked up tight, but –”

“Rainbow, we need ta find this Queen Aconita,” Applejack snapped. “If she’s free ta do whatever she wants…”

“That’s… that not what Mommy will do,” piped up a small voice.

Applejack turned, rounding on Agave. Yet, she wasn’t where she’d been before.

Agave had retreated back to her bed beneath the shelter of the willow roots. She sat on the edge of the mattress, clutching her absurd teddy manticore to her chest. The doll was so big that it obscured most of her behind it, not counting the holey hooves hugging its midriff and one side of her head, which stuck out around the doll’s fuzzy wool mane.

“Mommy won’t do anything major without her hive,” she said. “She’s really careful; she wouldn’t do something that risky by herself.”

Agave looked down, hiding her face behind her mane and stuffed manticore and giving it a tight squeeze. “She… wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t decided to come… Mommy wouldn’t have, either.”

She sighed. “The Court only attacked because I came to help. If I’d stayed home, none of this would’ve happened.”

Applejack looked Agave over, but said nothing. On the inside, however, she found herself in a rather difficult position. She was trying to stay on guard, especially around an unfamiliar queen; everything Agave said, she had to try to take with a grain of salt. And yet… it wasn’t anywhere near that easy to do.

“The Court had a plan, you see,” Agave went on, oblivious to Applejack’s troubled expression. “There was a reason why they weren’t active for all this time, and… it involved what you’re going through now.”

She peaked back around her stuffed animal, fixing Applejack with a meek stare. “I heard them talking about it. Mommy always locks me in my room when the others come, but… I snuck out.”

Agave suddenly looked panicked, as if expecting reprimand for admitting to as much. “I-I didn’t mean to overhear them talking. I just got so bored waiting, and decided to go exploring.”

When no one spoke up, she looked back down and gave her teddy a snuggle. “Mommy doesn’t let me explore. She keeps me in the royal quarters all the time and never lets me out. Sometimes, when she’s not around, I go exploring. This time… I heard the other queens talking about… Um, about you, Applejack.”

Applejack didn’t even blink. She couldn’t say that that was a revelation; she already knew – or at least suspected for a very long time – that she had the changeling court’s full attention. So far, this wasn’t news, but she decided to let Agave keep going and kept her silence.

Agave noticed, because she paused, probably expecting Applejack to say something, then continued on when she didn’t. “There was a reason why they hadn’t made a move until yesterday,” she went on. “They were waiting for you to shed, because when you did… they said you’d be just like them. They wouldn’t have to raise a hoof to conquer Equestria… because you’d do it for them.”

A cold chill ran down Applejack’s spine. Again, the memory of that wrongness plagued her, making her heart thud anxiously in her chest. “Why would they think that?” Applejack asked.

She could feel Rainbow turning to look at her, to scrutinize her. Clearly, that had not been the reaction her friend had been expecting. Perhaps she’d expected a vehement denial, or plain disregard for Agave’s words. But she hadn’t felt what Applejack had felt, nor had she experienced what she’d experienced.

Agave looked at her, too, but she didn’t question Applejack’s oddly easy acceptance of her words. “I didn’t know at the time… but then I snuck into Mommy’s library,” she said. “I’m not supposed to read the bigger books until I’m older… but I did anyway. And… and I found out, when a queen sheds for the third and final time, they… they lose something deep inside of them so that they can have power over all changelings.”

Applejack’s skin crawled now, her gut twisting tightly. Agave was looking straight at her when she finished.

“We… we lose our hearts, Applejack,” she said in a small voice. “Our own magic burns it away when we grow up. We stop caring and feeling, and become… like the rest. That is what the Court is counting on happening to you; when you shed, all of your friends, your family… they will mean nothing to you. And the bright future you dreamed of will die.”

Applejack stood in place, but on the inside, she felt like she’d just been punched so hard in the gut she’d been sent flying end over end. The whole time, her chest pounded hard, throbbing fearfully as if the object inside suddenly realized how short its days had become.

“N-no,” Applejack heard herself gag. Then, again, in a louder voice, “No, that can’t be right. It ain’t right. How can that be true and Ah never heard of it before?”

Agave gave Applejack a sympathetic look. “Because the only one who could tell you… isn’t here anymore,” she said quietly. “She hasn’t been for a very long time.”

Applejack felt like she was choking. She breathed in, but it felt like little to no air actually filled her lungs.

Fear, cold, icy, cutting fear filled her heart. She wanted to deny Agave’s words, to call them into question. It should’ve been easy; all she had was words and no actual evidence to back it up.

The memory of the wrongness, however…

Applejack suddenly felt like the butt of some unfathomably cruel joke, one that the entire Royal Court had been laughing at for the past several months. She hadn’t been defying them at all; she’d merely been their unwitting Trojan horse.

But what could she do? What was there to do? It felt like Applejack had just been informed that she’d come down with some incurable disease, and now she only had mere days left to live. Days… a matter of hours… before it all came undone.

Somepony had a hold of her shoulders and was shaking her slightly, calling her name. Applejack turned, and found herself confronted by a pair of worried magenta eyes.

“Come on, Applejack, snap out of it,” cried Rainbow. “Don’t panic already! We’re not out of options yet, you know!”

Applejack just blinked at her. How could she say that? Things were already in motion like an avalanche; unstoppable. This wasn’t some sickness or curse; this was her own body simply maturing – and turning her into Equestria’s next great adversary as a consequence.

But like a drowning rat, she clung to the hope Rainbow cast out for her to hang onto. It wasn’t a matter of whether she believed Rainbow or not; it as simply a matter of survival.

“R-right,” Applejack croaked shakily. She struggled to compose herself, but it was a lost cause. The best she could do was take a deep, deep breath and stop herself from shaking.

Roseluck had been right; she should’ve prepared better. She should’ve rested more. In her current state, Applejack felt like she was on the verge of passing out again.

Rainbow was still looking straight at her, holding Applejack’s gaze. The changeling stared back, desperate for those eyes to show her some ray of hope – something to keep her insides from shattering.

“We’re not out of this fight yet,” Rainbow promised, a fiery tone in her voice. “Not as long as I have anything to say about it. I promise, Applejack, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you just the way you are. I won’t let you turn into one of… of them. And with Agave’s help, we may have a chance.”

Applejack blinked. “We… we do?”

As quickly as it’d gone out, hope rekindled in her chest. Yes… there was always a chance. She wasn’t turning into a heartless monster that very moment, was she? No, she still had strength left. And now – now she had the will to fight back – against fate, against whatever other opponent got in her way. She was not a selfish pony by default, but the need to survive was a potent incentive indeed.

“Right… right, we do,” Applejack said, and she was proud to hear her voice steadying. “All ain’t lost just yet…”

“Exactly,” Rainbow said with a nod.

“But what are we supposed to do?” Applejack asked. “Ah doubt there’s a magic spell that’ll just make everythin’ better.”

“Well…,” cut in Agave, “maybe there is… or, something like that, maybe.”

Applejack looked around towards her. To her surprise, she found Agave much closer than before, no longer clutching her manticore teddy, caught in the open halfway towards Applejack, as if she’d been coming to comfort her, too.

“What do ya mean?” Applejack asked critically. Now she knew for sure – every word counted.

“Well,” Agave said, tilting her head one way while looking at Applejack, “there was one queen who didn’t lose her heart. Your mom.”

Applejack jolted in surprise. Of course! How had that slipped her mind? Her mother had been nothing like any of the other queens she’d met or heard of; kind, loving, willing to sacrifice her own life for the good of others. She had been everything Applejack wished she could be to the changelings in Equestria.

“Queen Carnation was the only queen to ever overcome her heartlessness,” Agave said. “And she did it after she came to Equestria, she must have. Whatever she did, there must be a record of it somewhere in your old hive.”

But at that, Applejack paused. “Ya mean Freedom?” she asked carefully.

Agave nodded. “Queens keep all sorts of stuff hidden in their hives,” she said eagerly. “Back home, Mommy has all sorts of secret rooms and stuff where she kept everything her mommy and great mommy and great-great mommy kept. All we have to do is find out where Queen Carnation kept her secrets and we’re bound to find out what she did!”

Agave was starting to look excited again, a small smile growing on her face. Applejack, however, did not look so eager.

She glanced towards Rainbow, who shared her look. “Uh, Agave,” Rainbow cut in, “We’ve kinda mentioned the problem with that, right?”

Agave looked down, deflating somewhat. “Y-yeah, you and Twilight did,” she said.

“If Carnation had secrets,” Rainbow said, “how are we supposed to find where they were hidden if only she knew where they’d be? There weren’t any drones close enough to her to be given that kind of info, not if it was meant for AJ only.”

For the first time since the encounter began, Roseluck made her presence known by speaking, her voice making Applejack jump a little. “I’ve been getting in touch with every changeling from the original hive,” she said. “But most of us hardly ever spoke to her, let alone knew her on a personal level. And whenever we’ve gone back to Freedom to see what we could salvage, we’ve never come across anything like a secret chamber or hidden cache, and some of us have been at it for years.”

That was certainly discouraging to hear, but Applejack wasn’t willing to slip into despair yet. She couldn’t allow herself to, not after feeling its terrible grip already.

“So, why did Twi’ and the others take off?” Applejack asked. “Ah mean, for real.”

“Technically,” Rainbow put it, trying not to sound miffed, “I wasn’t lying, you know. Twilight went with the princesses to see if they could uncover anything about the magic behind your transformation, or maybe dig up some info on what Carnation was up to while she was here.”

“Princess Cadance asked Rarity and Fluttershy to help her go through some of the archives at the Crystal Empire, as well,” Roseluck added. “It’s a longshot, but she seemed convinced that there might be something there worth looking into.”

“So then,” Rainbow said confidently, “That means all we have to do is find Carnation’s secret. It’s got to be in Freedom somewhere, it’s just got to be.”

“But we’ve already turned it upside down,” Roseluck pointed out, looking doubtful. “If it is there, there’s no conventional way to find it. And the only one Queen Carnation would’ve entrusted that information to would’ve been her family. Mainly, Applejack herself, once she was old enough.”

She had a point, even Rainbow had to admit. If the secret to Carnation’s success was still in Freedom, it would need to be exceptionally well hidden; perhaps magically so, and they were running out of time.

And yet…

Something Roseluck had said caught Applejack’s attention, perking up one of her ears. Her family…

Could it be…?

“Ah think…,” Applejack started, talking slowly as the idea formed in her head. By the time she spoke again, everyone was looking at her curiously. “Ah reckon Ah know who would’ve known,” she said.

Roseluck and Rainbow looked between each other, taken by surprise. Even Agave blinked in astonishment.

“Really?” Roseluck said.

“Who?” Rainbow asked, eager to know.

But Applejack was not grinning. She did not look even half as excited as the changelings and pegasus in front of her. She now looked glum for a whole new reason.

“Ah think,” she said slowly, “it’s about time we visited Hyacinth’s place.”
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 9: A Heart of Stone
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Captain Steel Shod was having a good day.

He sat behind his desk at the Guard post, eyes glancing over form after form – the drudgery of an officer’s workload. On average days it irked him; being penned up in one seat, in one room, for hours and hours while trusting somepony out there could do a job the way he wanted it done. Meanwhile he was stuck writing out some form or another explaining why one of his subordinates did this or making a request for that.

But today was different. True, the formula was the same; He sat behind his heavy oaken desk big enough to seat a family of four, reading by the light of torches lining the stone walls. His eyes flew over paperwork with experienced ease, and he felt that same old edginess that had hounded him since he took up the Captain position. 

But today, he sat up attentively. He read through each form critically and thoroughly, taking it all in like it was his first day on the job again. His quill danced precisely across dotted lines, his stamp struck home purposefully again and again, denying some, approving others.

All of this because today… today was a good day.

With one last stamp that made even the sturdy table quiver, Steel Shod sprang to his hooves quicker than he had in months. Years, even.

“Private!” he bellowed out, his voice ringing off of the high stone walls and through the door at the far end.

Punctually, that very door swung open, admitting a stallion dressed in golden armor. “Sir?” he said, throwing a smart salute.

Young… inexperienced… sloppy

Steel Shod pushed it to the back of his mind – there would be time to shake down his troops later. He’d make sure of that.

With a hoof, he swept up a number of papers, each carefully labeled and rolled up. “Get these orders to the western perimeter,” he ordered. “Make sure Sergeant Lackadaisy and Willow get them. I don’t want anypony going in to that district and anyone getting out until the princess herself calls the all-clear. Understood?”

“Including Queen Applejack, sir?”

“Especially ‘Her Highness’,” Steel Shod responded in a perfectly even, chilly manner. “The less she’s allowed to run free, the less she and her circumstances can harm innocent ponies. It is in everypony’s best interests if she stays right there in that district. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!” barked the private. 

Steel Shod nodded, settling down. “Good. Then, you have your orders. See to them, Private.”

“Yes sir, Captain Steel Shod!” the private then moved forward, took the orders from his superior, and galloped away with all due haste.

He has spirit… might have some potential after all…

Steel Shod turned around, but instead of returning to his seat, he trotted over to the nearby window – the only one in the expansive room.

Beyond, he had a peerless view over the tops of Ponyville’s thatched roofs, miles and miles of untamed treetops and hills under cloudy skies, far off into the dully grey horizon. The rain had finally let up, and even now he could see the seams in the clouds coming undone, threatening to spill rays of sunlight onto the earth below at any given moment.

If he had a window on each side of his office, he knew he’d have a commanding view of every square inch of Equestria itself – all under his watchful eye.

But he only had the one window, and that served him fine. Because that one window showed him the sole concern that dominated his attention.

Far off, on the opposite side of all of those steepled roofs and innocent ponies that dwelled in them, loomed a brooding shape. Towering trees that seemed to grow taller and become more widespread with each day, like a weed that was germinating out of control.

And Steel Shod did not like weeds. They were detrimental, poisonous. They choked out all over things, until only they remained. If, and only if, they were allowed to spread unchecked.

He frowned at it, puzzled over it in solitude, like it were some great citadel in need of breaching. The sight sickened him. How could such a thing be allowed to fester to such an incredible size? These ponies… they were all so soft – too soft for their own good. If they only knew what monsters those things could be…

His eyes narrowed, his insides boiling. Never again… I won’t stand for it… Even if it kills me, I will not tolerate it again…

A knock on his door pulled him back to reality. Instantly his composure was back in place. “Come in,” he said brusquely, turning away from that wretched sight.

In came another of the Guard – another new recruit by the looks of him. Poor lad could have only just been fitted for his armor. Steel Shod recognized the signs – the short stride, likely from the barrel strap on his armor riding up on the pits of his forelegs, the way his head bobbed this way and that, clearly unaccustomed to the weight of a helmet, and the heaviness of his stride, the way his armored boots thudded so forcefully against the wooden floor, as if weighed down by cinderblocks. It didn’t get much greener than him.

“The quartermaster is calling for you, Captain,” he reported. “He says your specialty order just arrived.”

Steel Shod straightened up. He did not grin, or anything of the sort. Instead, his eyes flashed – the closest thing to a smile he usually got. “Right on schedule – good. Tell him to prepare some suitable targets. I’d like to break it in a little.”

Yes, today was turning out to be a very good day indeed…


~~***~~


A loud bang rent the still country air, startling a flock of finches from a nearby tree and sending them scattering into the cloudy sky.

The culprit of that earsplitting noise formed right in the middle of a dirt road; a circle of green fire that grew to at least eight feet across, vaporizing a few muddy puddles in the process.

And with a pop, five figures were ejected from the burning hole.

Applejack bounded out, one hoof pressing her Stetson onto her blonde head as she stuck her landing with a grunt.

Rainbow was ejected a little more forcefully and with an accompanying yelp, but instead of risking a landing, her wings flashed open and caught her reflexively midair.

Right behind them came Roseluck and the cloaked shape of Antlion, who came in for a landing on thrumming wings as the portal started to snap close beneath them.

Lastly, with a startled squeak, Agave was fired out of the portal like a filly-shaped cannonball, tossing her nearly six feet up into the air. Her hooves milled through the air, before landing squarely on her chest – right on Applejack’s back.

“Oof,” Applejack huffed, a knee buckling before she could brace herself.

“S-sorry!” Agave squealed. Her pegasus wings sprang open and took her weight, much to Applejack’s silent relief. “I-I’m not used to tunneling like that.”

“You and me both,” Rainbow groused, shivering.

Roseluck shook herself, paper-thin wings rustling noisily. “That makes three of us. One of these days I’ll get the hang of it…” She then turned to the cloaked changeling beside her. “Thank you for the assistance, Antlion. Three others were a little too much for me.”

Antlion nodded in achnowledgement. “It was no problem.”

Meanwhile, Applejack glanced back over her shoulder at Agave and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Well, as long as yer fine, everythin’s okay.”

Agave still looked nervous, but nevertheless, she set herself down on the ground and glanced around apprehensively.

All around them, grasslands and sporadic trees rolled in every direction. Towering, monolithic mountains loomed in the distance, astride which one could almost see the golden shine of Canterlot itself, if the sky wasn’t so cloudy.

The air was still rich with the smell of fresh rain, and many of the nearby bushes still dripped and glistened with beads of water.

In the distance, Agave could just see the irregular shapes and thatched roofs breaking up the never ending sprawl of vibrant greenery that dominated every other square inch of the countryside. 

And just visible in the distance, standing atop a hill like some stoic monolith, jutted the Guard Post. It was so far away that it looked hardly bigger than a stick buried in the ground, but her eyes lingered apprehensively on it nonetheless.

And right behind the group, just a few yards away, jutted the corner of a painted white fence, behind which loomed row upon row of carefully tended trees laden with juicy red apples.

“And thanks fer gettin’ us this far, both of ya,” Applejack said, making Agave jump slightly and Antlion look around.

“Think nothing of it,” Antlion said humbly, bowing slightly – much to Applejack’s chagrin.

Roseluck shifted, looking a little sheepish. “I doubt you want to be walking around Ponyville right now anyway, not with Steel Shod’s lockdown in effect. He’s taking the Court’s threat very seriously, and he’s cracking down hard. It would be best to stay clear of them until things die down again.”

Rainbow huffed, crossing her hooves across her chest with a foul look on her face. “Yeah, and I hear he’s brought in a whole bunch of his goons from wherever the hay he was before this. I’ll give you ten guesses why.”

“They ain’t too keen on us changelin’s,” Applejack sighed.

“You got it,” grumbled Rainbow. “Ugh, if Twilight were here, she’d have those whole mess sorted out by now. Steel Shod was probably just waiting for a chance like this.”

Applejack let her eyes linger on the distant shadow of the Guard Post. She’d had nothing but bad memories of that place; she didn’t much feel like dwelling on it.

“We’ll just have ta make do,” Applejack said, turning away. “’S long as we stay out of Steel Shod’s way, he won’t have the grounds ta do anythin’ ta us.”

Rainbow turned to her, giving her a meaningful look. “And what if he does try to pull something? Be a patriot or something stupid like that?”

Applejack avoiding her stare, partly because she simply didn’t see that happening. “Steel Shod only cares about keepin’ the peace. So long as Princess Celestia has our back, he ain’t stupid enough ta try anything. Besides, he’s a soldier at heart.”

Rainbow’s expression bent into a look of confusion. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Applejack shot her a look out of the corner of her eye. “Soldier’s don’t pick fights they know they’d lose.”

“Ponies are not fighters,” Antlion spoke up abruptly. “That is the only reason Queen Chrysalis’ coup made it as far as it did. Six untrained mares performed better than an entire city’s defensive force. I’d say that speaks volumes on Equestria’s capabilities.”

Rainbow glanced at the gruff changeling, eying him warily. “You talk as if you were there.”

Antlion’s head didn’t move, but she suddenly got the impression that he was scrutinizing her. “That reminds me; you need to work on your uppercut. Too much follow-through, leaves your ribs exposed. Keep that in mind when you’re up against opponents who aren’t ordered to take you alive.” 

To that, Rainbow had no response.

“Anyway,” Applejack grunted, brushing off the implications more effectively than her feathery companion, “Ah figure it’d be best if we kept a low profile for now. No need ta go and get Steel Shod all riled up.”

Roseluck glanced back towards her. “Good idea. I’ll stay behind in the district and try to keep as many changelings off the streets as I can, just to be safe. Maybe I can work something out with Mayor Mare so that families can at least see each other. As long as we go over Steel Shod’s head, he won’t get in the way.”

Applejack nodded. “Ya read my mind.” After a moment, however, her expression turned down slightly. “And… Ah’m real sorry ta ask ya to look after the whole district while Ah’m gone.”

Roseluck merely gave her a smile. “It will be… interesting without you, but I can manage. Certainly better than on whatever adventure lies in store for you. I wish I could go with you, truly, but I’m just a store owner at heart.”

“It’s alright, Rose,” Applejack said placatingly. “We’ll be back before ya know it.”

“That’s good and all,” Rainbow drawled, looking to one side, “but why is this guy coming along, too?”

Applejack glanced at her, then followed her gaze to Antlion, who was merely standing by passively. Applejack got the feeling that Rainbow hadn’t stopped watching the cloaked changeling since the comment he’d made, considering how unwilling she seemed to be to leave him outside of her line of sight for even a moment.

Without turning to look at Rainbow, Antlion stated, “The Court has made its intentions perfectly clear. Leaving the two of you unguarded is out of the question, especially given Her Highness’s current condition.”

Applejack frowned, but let that one slip by. Something told her that she’d have little say in the matter to begin with, either with Antlion’s stubborn insistence on referring to her like royalty or having to put up with a guard detail. It wasn’t exactly a new thought for her, but it wasn’t one she relished. 

“Well, if it’ll make y’all feel better, go ahead. Just try ta keep a low profile, if ya would. Best not ta stand out too much right now.”

Antlion bowed. “You won’t even know we’re here, Your Highness,” he said. His horn glowed for a moment… and he was gone. Simply, and completely, gone, without as much as a whisper of sound or shimmer of light.

Applejack and Rainbow stared at the empty patch of slightly muddy ground where he’d been standing, dumbfounded. They even jumped when a puff of dirt heralded the invisible drone’s departure as he jumped away, landed somewhere off to their right, and went completely quiet from there on.

“Did… did you know you guys could do that?” Rainbow asked in a private aside to Applejack.

“Nope,” Applejack mumbled back, still staring unblinkingly at the same spot. “And now Ah wish Ah never knew it in the first place. That’s just plain unsettlin’…”

Roseluck turned to give Applejack a sympathetic look. “You can’t blame us for being worried. Just… promise me you’ll take care of yourself? A lesser pony would still be in bed after… after what you went through.”

Now it was Applejack’s turn to give her a reassuring smile. “Ah’ll be fine, Rose, Ah promise. You just focus on keepin’ everyone safe fer me, and Ah’ll be back in a couple hours, tops. And try ta get some rest,” she added. “We all gotta be in top form fer whatever the Court’s gonna pull next.”

She knew it was futile, but it never hurt to ask at least. The only pony she knew of who was more of a worrywart than Roseluck was Twilight, and bitter experience told her that no amount of words could fix that.

Still, Roseluck grinned slightly, as if she knew what was on her queen’s mind all too well. “I’ll… do what I can,” she promised.

Applejack nodded. “Good enough, Ah guess. Now, y’all better get back before Steel Shod start’s gettin’ suspicious.”

Roseluck nodded, her smile vanishing, replaced instead with a determined look. “Right. I’ll see you three when you get back.”

“Bye, Rose,” piped up Agave, just as the drone’s horn ignited, and then she, too, vanished from sight. Only the thump of her hooves gave her away as she turned around and quickly darted away, until even her hoof-falls faded into the distance.

Finally, the three were alone – visibly – on the side of the road leading up to a familiar stretch of apple trees.

Applejack stood still for only a few moments, long enough to be sure Roseluck had gone. Then, she turned around. “Come on, you two. We got a lot o’ ground ta cover and not much time ta do it in.”

Rainbow was at her side virtually instantly, hovering along on energetic wings. “Alright, let’s get to it!” she said, grinning savagely as she clapped her hooves together. “Where to first?”

“First… home.”

“Okay…,” Rainbow said slowly, impatiently, “… Then where? The Everfree Forest? Oh, Freedom? Is that where we’re going?”

The excitement in her voice nearly pulled a begrudging smile from Applejack, but she kept herself in check. What she did do, however, was give a rather flippant shrug, much to Rainbow’s surprise. “Maybe, but Ah doubt it. Hyacinth probably didn’t stick around there.”

Rainbow turned to exchange a look with Agave, who shrugged right back at her, looking unknowing.

“So… where are we going?” Rainbow asked, less excited now.

Applejack was quiet for a moment. Then, she let out a tiny, almost imperceptible sigh. “That’s… sorta the problem, sugarcube.”

“What is?”

“… Nopony knows where Hyacinth’s place is.”

…

“Oh…”

“Eeyup…”

Agave looked back and forth between Rainbow and Applejack, a look of worry on her face. “That’s… that’s a problem, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Rainbow said, rubbing the back of her neck. “That’s kinda sorta a major problem.”

Applejack nodded grimly. “Most changelin’s who knew her thought she’d died alongside my Ma and Phantasma when they fought. Some thought she’d cut all ties with her old life. The only one who ever knew Hyacinth’s true agenda was… well, Hyacinth herself.”

But Applejack remained unfazed, something Agave noticed. “Um… Miss Applejack, do you have a plan?”

Applejack winced. “Callin’ it a ‘plan’ might be a stretch, but… Ah got an idea.”

“Care to fill us in?” Rainbow asked, regaining her attention.

Applejack glanced at her, then looked ahead along the fence they were walking beside. “Well… If Ah had ta wager, Ah’d say she set up her safehouse somewhere close to the farm – to me – but not so close that we’d run the risk of bumpin’ into each other. On top of that, it would have ta be someplace where ponies wouldn’t go or otherwise stumble across.”

She looked back towards Rainbow, a glint in her eye. “Sound like anyplace we know?”

But Rainbow only looked uncertain now. “Of course. The Everfree Forest. But… you sure you’re up for that? I mean, I know you’re tough and all, but Rose did have a point. You sorta did explode yesterday.”

To that, Applejack frowned, looking down. “Well Ah sure as hay ain’t goin’ ta lie around in bed and wait fer it ta happen again.”

“Well… alright, AJ,” Rainbow said, though she didn’t sound convinced in the slightest. “But if something happens, you let me handle it. And no,” she cut across, interrupting Applejack’s rebuttal. “That wasn’t a request, bug brain.”

“Rainbow…”

“Don’t give me that!” Rainbow snapped in a huff, turning up her nose and folding her hooves across her chest indignantly. “Somepony has got to keep you out of trouble. Who better than me?”

Applejack turned her eyes to the sky. “Where ta start…?”

“Bottom line – I do the heavy lifting, you do the ‘getting better’ stuff. Got it?”

“Good grief,” sighed Applejack.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Oh! By the way, we should probably let the other know you’re up.”

Applejack sighed, exasperated. “Y’all just thought of that now? Ah coulda asked Rose ta mail a letter ta Twi’ while we had her here.”

“Oh come on,” Rainbow said brightly. “I’ve got something better!”

Applejack gave her a look. “Beg pardon?”

Rainbow was grinning in that mischievous way that let Applejack know to brace for some hair brain scheme. 

She leaned in conspiratorially. “One word, AJ,” she said.

“And that is?” Applejack asked, humoring the ornery pegasus by leaning in as well.

She leaned in a little closer. “Party,” said Rainbow.

“You called?” said Pinkie.

“GAH!” said Applejack.


~~***~~


It took them nearly ten whole minutes to reach the front gate to Sweet Apple Acres and trudge up to the farmhouse.

It felt like it had been a small eternity since Applejack had laid eyes on her home. She couldn’t help but take in every detail about it as if looking for something she might have forgotten, even though everything was exactly where it’d been before – save for a bag of chicken feed on one corner of the house, which was now on top of a rain barrel, instead of beside it where she’d left it last.

Of course, Applejack might have truly appreciated the whole scene… if Rainbow wasn’t still laughing.

“The… the look on your face!” she howled, clutching her sides. “P-Priceless! Oh Celestia, that was priceless!”

“Yeah, ha-ha, real funny, RD,” Applejack grunted, rolling her eyes. Suffice to say, she was not amused. “The next time y’all see Pinkie runnin’ up, point her out like a normal pony would.”

“Oh come on!” giggled Pinkie Pie, bouncing practically as high as a pony with each bound, “Dashie was just having some fun! I mean, I wanted to sneak up behind you, put my hooves over your eyes and say ‘guess who?’, but then I thought maybe you’d be so surprised you bucked me, and that wouldn’t be funny at all, but theeeeen I wanted to give you a really, reeeeeeeaaaaaalllllly big hug because YOU’RE AWAKE! But Twilight always gets mad when I give her really, reeeeeeaaaaaaaallllllllllyyyy big hugs. I don’t get why – Oh wait, there was that one time I thought she’d gone to sleep… yeah, I get it now. But THEEEEEENNNN I thought about –”

“Pinkie,” Applejack said patiently, turning around to put a hoof on her… well, it was supposed to be over her mouth, but it ended up being on one of her knees, as she was mid-bounce at the time. Somehow, she even stayed there for a surprisingly protracted amount of time. “Ah get it. Yer happy ta see me.”

Pinkie gave her a look like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard as she literally dropped out of the air and landed hard on her four hooves. “Happy? HAPPY?! no-nonono, I’m MORE than happy! Because yesterday was NOT happy, but now here we are, and there you are, and everything is so much better!”

“… Just how much sugar did y’all eat today?”

“... I don’t understand the question…”

Applejack sighed. “Well, that answers that question. And about a dozen others… Look, Pinkie, could Ah ask ya ta do me a favor and let the others know Ah’m up?”

Pinkie smiled hugely. “Okie Dokie Lokie! I’ll go tell Spike and be back before you can say Supercalifragili—”

The rest of what she was saying faded off into the distance as a pink blur vanished over a hill, leaving a dust trail in her wake.

“…Ya know, sometimes Ah worry ‘bout her,” Applejack commented dryly.

“Oh come on, AJ, she’s just super happy to see you feeling better,” Rainbow said, giving her a nudge. “All of us saw what happened to you, you know.”

Applejack glanced at her, but Rainbow neatly avoided her gaze. Still, the changeling took note of the deep, dark circles under her eyes…

“—idocious!” cried out Pinkie, screeching to a halt in the exact same spot she’d been before. It took a full second before the dust cloud she’d kicked up caught up with her, leaving Applejack and Rainbow in a coughing fit. “I’m back! Spike says hi, by the way.”


~~***~~


Applejack had been braced for a number of things when she stepped up onto the farmhouse porch. That time of day, surely Big Macintosh was still out tending to the orchards that had yet to be cleaned of fruit. Apple Bloom should have been at school, like she typically was that time of day. So, Applejack had been expecting only to have to deal with the elderly matriarch of the household.

She couldn’t have been further from her mark.

Applejack had just knocked on the wooden frame of the screen door and was only half a breath away from calling out, when she saw something move on the other side – and move fast.

Out of instinct, she ducked just a split second before the door was blown open, narrowly missed a bow-wearing ballistic missile as it came screaming out of the living room.

Poor Rainbow never saw Apple Bloom coming, however. And one would be surprised how much momentum a little filly could build up with just a few yards to sprint.

Rainbow was knocked bodily backwards by an airborne filly hitting her square in the face, launching them both clean off the porch and onto the damp ground beyond.

Applejack didn’t have time to react, however. The next obstacle coming at her was significantly bigger than her little sister.

The next thing she knew, she was lying out in the dirt right next to Rainbow, the wind knocked out of her by a great big red stallion who seemed too overjoyed to check himself.

Pinkie Pie, not wanting to be left out, flung herself into the biggest mud puddle she could, giggling like a complete madmare.

“Applejack!” cried out a harmony of three voices, full of so much glee and relief that one would think they’d been separated for years, not a matter of hours.

Applejack was then swept up in perhaps the biggest hug of her entire short life, trapped between burly red hooves, tiny yellow hooves, and knobby green ones.

“Yer awake!” cried out Apple Bloom into her sister’s ribs. “We were startin’ ta get worried!”

“Eeyup!” chimed in the pair of red hooves throttling the life out of her. “We were just comin’ back ta see ya.”

“B-but… Steel Shod…,” Applejack got out with what little air she had left.

“Oh poppycock,” scoffed the owner of the hug around her middle. “Ain’t no pony gonna keep Apples apart! I’d like ta see that good-fer-nothin’ captain try!”

With a groan, Rainbow righted herself, blinking a couple of times, while Pinkie continued to splash through puddles of mud gleefully. She looked grumpy for half a second – as anypony who’d just been tackled to the ground and promptly forgotten ought to be – when something more powerful than her hurt pride caught her attention. Her nose twitched, followed immediately by her ears picking up. “… Why do I smell cinnamon?”

“Oh yeah!” Apple Bloom cried, raising her head. “We just pulled a bunch of fritters from the oven!”

Rainbow got to ‘fritter’, and which point her empty stomach took over with a monstrous rumble. Missing several meals would do that.

Granny Smith took one look at her and gave the starving pegasus a knowing smile. At last, Applejack was released from the group hug, just as she was starting to see lights pop before her eyes.

“Well then, everypony, that lunch ain’t gonna eat itself. Come on in; we made plenty fer everypony!”

Rainbow didn’t need to be told twice. Heck, she made it through the front door before anypony else.

Applejack shook herself off and got to her hooves. “Sounds… sounds good ta me,” she said, moving to follow. “Ah need ta talk ta – ow!”

Everypony froze, startled. Even Rainbow halted halfway through the door, jolting as if she’d been shouted at.

And when she turned around, she saw Applejack – still standing where she’d been, wringing out her hoof like she’d just stubbed it on a rock. Only… there were no rocks on the hard packed ground.

Four ponies looked on with looks of concern, watching her carefully. But three others wore looks of concern on a much, much deeper level.

It was starting again…

“Applejack? You alright?” asked Granny Smith. It was the worry in her voice that finally broke the tension that had taken hold.

Applejack stared at her hoof for a moment longer, though she knew she wouldn’t get to see any visible signs. Then, she put her hoof back down and met her grandmother’s gaze with a more serious one of her own.

“Granny… Everypony… we need ta talk.”


~~***~~


Granny Smith hadn’t been lying; the family had made plenty of food – not for a family of four, but for a family perhaps several times larger. Batches of apple fritters, apple pies, apple crumble, homemade apple sauce, caramel apples – every known recipe the family of dedicated apple farmers had perfected over its long lifetime, all piled high on the dining room table, kitchen counter, anywhere there was room. It was as if the Apples had suddenly decided to run Sugarcube Corner out of business or something.

The whole house smelled of cinnamon, flour, and freshly cut apples, rising dough, and freshly baked bread. It was all rather confusing… until Applejack realized that the majority of the tantalizing treats piled on platters and in bowls were some of her favorites.

Unfortunately, the mood Applejack had brought home with her ruined most of it for her. She still froze in the kitchen doorway, staring around with wide eyes while Rainbow ravenously piled a plate with everything she could get her hooves on.

Agave was beside her, though she was much more humble with her selections, as if she wasn’t entirely sure if she was allowed to have any.

Apple Bloom had picked up on the grimness in her sister’s voice and features, and she kept glancing at her worriedly. Only Big Macintosh and Granny Smith didn’t watch her like they half expected her to collapse on the spot, but they nevertheless wore their own serious expressions, like they were bracing for nothing but bad news.

And as far as Applejack was concerned, that was the only news she had.

To their credit, however, each and every one of them sat quietly and listened, save for a single outburst from Apple Bloom, who was immediately shushed by Granny Smith.

For some reason, the whole time Applejack spoke, she kept finding herself turning towards the elder of the household, dissecting her expression, her every move, looking for something – anything – to indicate how much of a blow her words were.

But Granny Smith remained silent, impassive but attentive as Applejack explained what had happened the previous day… and what was happening with her now. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make any comments… she merely listened with the most serious expression Applejack had ever seen the wizened matriarch wear, and that alone made her unusually tense.

“So… here we are,” Applejack finished, leaning back in her chair. Her plate was untouched, and frankly forgotten altogether.

Finally, Granny Smith spoke. “Hmm,” she said quietly. “That’s quite the pickle, alright.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed, frowning at the table.

Apple Bloom toyed with a cookie – like she’d been doing for the past few minutes. “Do… do y’all know how long ya have before… ya know…?”

Applejack glanced at Granny, who somehow looked more ancient than usual. “Well,” Applejack started slowly, “The last time Ah… uh… went through this… Ah had a day or two,” she said. “’Course, last time was nothin’ like this time, so who knows; Ah might have a little more time on my hooves this go around.” She wasn’t particularly optimistic, however, and she knew her voice reflected it.

Rainbow – face covered in crumbs and various shrapnel from the confectionary apocalypse that had taken place on her plate – carefully surveyed the room, going from face to face. Even Pinkie looked around quietly, not quite sure if she needed to jump in or not.

“Hmm,” Granny Smith repeated into one hoof, her attention becoming a million miles away.

For the longest time, silence prevailed. The only sounds came from Rainbow and Agave’s chewing while they looked around. Then…

“What’re ya goin’ ta do about it?” spoke up Big Mac.

“Took the words right outta my mouth,” added Granny Smith.

Applejack looked up to find her family looking rather expectantly at her. There was no fear or anxiety in those eyes; just an unspoken understanding. Even Apple Bloom looked at her like there was no doubt in her mind that she knew Applejack would be alright – that she had a solid plan.

But a plan was the very thing Applejack didn’t have. An idea, yes; a lead, yes. A plan? She wasn’t too confident about that. But she kept it to herself, because right now it wouldn’t do her any good.

“Ah have a hunch,” Applejack said. “Hyacinth might have saved somethin’ from my old home back in the Everfree Forest. The problem is findin’ where she stayed…”

Granny Smith frowned to herself thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s somethin’ of a problem. It won’t do you no good ta go runnin’ around that place willy nilly without some kind of destination. Ah swear there’ve been more Timber Wolves and the like in the past few weeks than Ah’ve seen in years.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed grimly. “Lotsa them Star Spiders, too. Won’t do ta get bit by one of those critters.”

Applejack winced. She’d been bitten by one of those before. That had not been a good week for her.

“A-and there’s the Court, too,” chimed in Agave, like she couldn’t quite help herself. “They’ll be waiting, for sure.”

But of all the concerns on Applejack’s mind, the Court’s cronies was not at the forefront. She could handle herself still, with or without an armed escort waiting in the shadows.

For a long time, though, the room fell quiet again. The grown up ponies leaned back in their chairs, their thoughts their own as they pondered over what to do.

But it wasn’t any of them that broke the silence.

“Ah know!” piped up Apple Bloom suddenly, standing up on her chair so suddenly she nearly sent her plate flying. “We could ask Zecora!”

Everypony at the table blinked, caught off guard.

“Zecora?” echoed Rainbow, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure! If anypony knows the Everfree Forest, it’s her! She’d know where ta find Hyacinth’s house for sure!”

The older members of the household continued to wear dubious expressions. They were well aware of the filly’s fascination with the hermit zebra, and they fully suspected she spent more time with Zecora than she was letting on. Unless her sudden budding curiosity with brewing was purely coincidental.

But, the longer she sat there, the more Applejack started to recall something – something from the night she tried to bar from her mind. Deep in the forgotten passages of a long abandoned hive…

“Ya know… Ya might be on ta somethin’ there, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said thoughtfully.

Rainbow gave her a questioning look, but she ignored it. “Alright, we’ll try her first. Better than nothin’, Ah suppose.”

Granny Smith nodded, smiling benignly. “Sounds like ya got a plan there, sugarcube. Don’t you go worryin’ about us none – the sooner ya take care of business, the sooner we can all go back ta normal.”

For the first time, a tentative smile appeared on Applejack’s lips. Perhaps things at home hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared; she’d been far more worried about how her family had been holding up than things she probably should be focusing more on.

“Alright, well… Ah’ll go throw some things together, Ah guess,” Applejack said, scooting her chair back. “Shouldn’t be a long trek, but it don’t hurt nothin’ ta be prepared.”

“Ah’ll help!” cried Apple Bloom, and together the two left the kitchen and made for the stairs. She couldn’t help but smile… but not at the filly bounding after her like a little puppy. Maybe, just maybe, she’d actually pulled it off without anypony seeing through her this time…


~~***~~


Applejack was hardly out of the room when Granny Smith’s smile faded.

Oblivious, Rainbow scooted her chair back as well. “Well, I probably should help, too. Thanks for lunch, by the way.”

“Hold on a minute there.”

Rainbow froze, flinching.

Granny Smith hadn’t shouted at her, but the shift in the elder’s tone was unmistakable.

When she turned to look, she found Granny Smith looking directly at her, her eyes very sharp indeed for somepony her age, like she hadn’t lost a bit of her edge over the course of her long lifetime. And there was something else in her eyes… something that made Rainbow’s heart tighten in her chest.

“You look after my granddaughter, ya hear?” she said. “Ah know when Applejack’s leavin’ things out. Can see it in her eyes. Whatever happened ta her, it’s taken a real toll on her, more than Ah think she’s willin’ ta admit even to herself. So y’all look after Applejack and bring her home safe and sound, whatever it takes. Understand?”

Rainbow looked at her for a moment, then she turned to face the table and the two ponies watching her every move, gauging her like judges at some contest. She stood up straight, forcing herself to meet Granny Smith’s surprisingly intense gaze.

“You can count on me, Granny,” she said. “Cross my heart, hope to fly.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Pinkie giving her a dead serious look, as if silently asking her if she could handle the burdens of a Pinkie Promise. But Rainbow didn’t look at her.

Granny Smith continued to stare at her critically. Then, she leaned back in her chair, the edge in her eyes softening. “Good ta hear. Now git; y’all have a lot of ground ta cover before the day’s out.”

Rainbow nodded quickly, then turned to the others. “Come on, Agave, Pinkie. We’ve got work to do.”

After some clambering out of seats and hasty departures, only then did Big Mac turn to give Granny Smith a deeply questioning look.

“Don’t y’all start with me, too,” she said with a ghost of her usual grin. “Applejack is gonna be just fine, so long as she’s got her.”

Big Mac silently look between the head of the household towards the door, then back again, looking all kinds of uncertain. Granny Smith simply ignored him, looking relaxed for the first time in hours… until something seemed to occur to her.

“Oh fiddlesticks... Wasn't Ah supposed ta tell Applejack somethin’…?”


~~***~~


With a grunt, Applejack pushed the door open to her own bedroom. She was a little distracted, however, by the energetic filly bouncing past her and further down the hall, towards her own room. “Listen here, Apple Bloom,” she said sternly, “now ain’t the time ta be runnin’ around the Everfree. Yer stayin’ right here with Granny and Big Mac where it’s safe, ya hear?”

Apple Bloom only made a petulant noise in response. “Oh come on, AJ! Ah’ve been to Zecora’s place plenty and Ah ain’t ever had anythin’ bad happen.”

“No means no, little filly,” Applejack called over her shoulder, stepping into her bedroom. “And don’t ya think Ah won’t know it if ya try and follow us anyway.”

least that guard detail will be good fer somethin’…

Applejack turned around, huffing to herself… only to pull up short, a hoof still held up in the air at the sight of an unexpected oddity sitting on the night stand in front of her.

“Uh… Apple Bloom? Where did this box come from? Ah wasn’t expectin’ any mail…”

It was peculiar, and in the world Applejack lived in, 'peculiar' wasn’t normally a good thing. Because ‘peculiar’ had a bad tendency to lead to pain.

“Oh! Ah completely forgot about that!” Apple Bloom cried from the other room. “It got hear a few nights back. Some scary-lookin’ mare said it was for you.”

Applejack’s eyebrow went up even further at that. “A ‘scary lookin’' mare?” she echoed.

The scuffing of hooves was coming closer, and soon Apple Bloom peeked in around the corner of the doorframe. “Granny wanted ta throw it out, but…”

“But?” Applejack prompted, suddenly feeling very on edge. There was something uncomfortably familiar about that tiny cardboard box, something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on.

Apple Bloom shuffled by the door, looking nervous. “But it has the Royal Canterlot seal on it so… it can’t be all bad, right?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. Big scary mares carrying packages from Canterlot? Her first thought was Princess Luna, maybe, but no – Apple Bloom knew her. And it would’ve been very strange for her to not come straight to Applejack if it concerned her.

Something tugged at the back of her mind… a memory she’d all-but forgotten…

“Applejack? Is somethin’ wrong?” Apple Bloom asked apprehensively.

Applejack kept staring at the box, all her senses on high alert. “Apple Bloom… go get Granny and the others.”

“But—”

“Now, AB.”

Apple Bloom bit her lip, then nodded. “A-alright. Be right back.”

Applejack cocked her ear, listening as the sound of Apple Bloom’s hooves receded down the hall. Not once had her eyes move away from the grubby box.

She knew she knew it, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. Applejack frowned to herself, trying to remember… but nothing came to mind except a vague sense of anxiety.

And then, all of a sudden, it clicked.

That night at the Crystal Empire… the strange package… a cryptic warning…

But what was it doing here, of all places?

Despite her better judgment, Applejack edged closer, gauging the thing like it was some coiled up snake in a foul mood.

And as she stepped closer, she felt something. It was the strangest feeling, like suddenly she was keenly aware that she wasn’t alone…

Applejack glanced around, but her room was vacant. In the off chance, however… “Antlion? That you?”

Nothing.

“Anyone in here?”

Nothing…

And yet, the feeling persisted, and it only got stronger the more she moved forward. Something kept making her rub her brow – a persistent agitation that just wouldn’t go away…

Without even realizing it, she found herself standing right in front of the diminutive package, and the huge array of stamps, stickers and labels plastered all over its top. But these weren’t postage stamps.

As promised, Applejack immediately identified the royal Canterlot seal – two sets of wings, one held aloft and another curved inward – around a crescent superimposed over a circle giving off four radial spokes of light, like a caricature of a crown.

The thing was, there wasn’t just one seal. There were dozens, each printed or stamped onto every single label taped to the box, each accompanied by a different, rather lengthy yet official looking name.

The Department of Magical Oddities

The Department of Dangerous Magicks

The Royal Apothecary Society

The Scholar Association of Canterlot

The list went on and on. Seemingly every official branch in Canterlot had had something to stick to this mundane cardboard box, and just by casting her eyes over it, Applejack could tell that nopony had been in agreeance over something.

Failed, passed, failed, passed, repeated over and over; the two words appeared stamped in various colors of red, black and dark blue ink, until one great big ‘Failed’ had been mashed across the top end of the box, seemingly for no other reason than to render a final verdict.

Applejack blinked, raising an eyebrow curiously despite herself. She had more than her fair share of reservations, and by that point she’d developed a healthy dose of wariness when it came to unknowns, especially where changelings were concerned. But at the same time, such an inconclusive judgment on the box’s contents was even more puzzling. Surely somepony would be able to discern some kind of curse or hex of some kind. Furthermore, it’d been one of her own drones that had brought the box to her in the first place.

… At least, she thought he’d been one of hers.

Again, she felt almost compelled to check over her shoulder. Nopony was there, though. But that feeling of paranoia persisted, like she was being watched oh so closely…

Applejack frowned to herself. A part of her was fed up with how ridiculous this whole situation was. If it was so dangerous, how had it managed to find its way all the way to her house? Another part of her berated the first for ever suggesting she lower her guard over something so involved with changelings.

Both sides agreed on one thing, though; she was fed up. Try as she might, she simply didn’t have the patience to deal with one more dang thing. So, more out of irritation than any sense of investigation, she reached out, and gave the box a hard poke.

It was as if she’d poked a live wire.

She only momentarily registered the sharp, jolting pain in her foreleg, before everything went dark in an instant.


~~***~~


The cavern was falling apart.

Ancient black stone cracked and crumbled. Great stalactites a hundred feet long fell like javelins from the high ceiling, impaling the volcanic rock floor and fracturing it, too.

Stagnant air choked with dust clogged her lungs, but she restrained the building urge to cough. Instead, she stayed dead focused on the figure lying crumpled on the floor, struggling in vain to rise.

“Now, now. That was a very foolish thing to do,” she said, stalking closer to the agonized form on the ground. “And here I thought we were having such a pleasant conversation.”

A long, black neck rose from the clouds of dust, sporting a similarly lengthy, twisted black horn that cracked and fizzed feebly. Two eyes of peerless blue glared back – eyes bearing a striking double set of irises.

“I asked you one simple little question,” the first said, dark humor dancing in her voice. “But if violence is the only language you speak anymore, dear mother…”

Her horn crackled to life with a seething green light.

The fallen figure’s panting suddenly caught in her throat as a magical vice closed around her neck, and seemingly without effort, hauled her bodily into the air so high that not even her lanky, hole-ridden legs could touch the floor.

“I’ll be only too happy to reciprocate.”

The wretched queen clawed at her throat, but to no avail, wheezing and fighting for every breath.

Watching the figure work for every bit of air she could get, the first quite calmly pulled her in closer, until they were virtually nose to nose.

“Now then… how shall I word my question this time?” she breathed in her face, speculative, almost childishly curious. “My way? Or yours.”

The changeling queen was starting to turn pale in the face, her fanged teeth bared. Up close, bathed in the light of a glowing horn, the myriad of wrinkles stood out in stark contrast across her wizened face. Even for a changeling, her midnight blue mane was ragged and filled with countless split ends, and what looked awfully like wads of milky wax.

But more than that, her face was covered in cuts and bruises, outlining a very long… conversation… indeed.

When the first spoke again, it was in hard, unamused tone. Her patience was over. “What. Did you. Tell her?” She asked, punctuating each pause with a hard squeeze. “What. Did she. Want?”

The queen’s cracked lips parted, her eyes fluttering.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“The…” the elder queen wheezed in the faintest, thinnest of breaths. “The… M… Mak… er…”

Confusion shot through her. “The Maker? That is what Carnation came to you about? Do you take me for a fool?”

She forced the queen down, bending her over almost backwards on herself so that she could stand over her.

“She came to you about a youngling’s fairytale? You, of all creatures?”

She was bending the helpless queen over to the limit, stretching her almost in a U shape. 

“You wouldn’t tell your own child a bedtime story, let alone any of those precious secrets you kept horded away. And you’re telling me she tried her luck with you over something as asinine as that?!”

“…H… Ha…”

She pulled back, surprised.

Even so defeated, broken and bloodied, the old queen still found it in her to smile her infamous knowing, taunting smile. And she just kept laughing, wasting what little breath she had left in defiance and taunts.

Her surprise turned to outrage. And with one swift motion, she finished folding her in half.


~~***~~


Applejack jumped back, panting.

As quick as a blink, the whole terrible image was gone, but her racing heart took much longer to slow.

She was staring at a familiar nightstand place beside a familiar bed and window… and a harmless-looking cardboard box, that stood silently in the same place, only a few inches from her hoof.

Everything she’d seen raced through her mind again, then again, like the echoes of the worst nightmare she’d ever witnessed…

She could hear hooves behind her racing up the hall. A voice called out, muffled, but she only barely heard it.

Because right in front of her, the cardboard box was starting to blacken.

“Applejack, what’s –” shouted Rainbow urgently right behind her, just as Applejack’s nightstand was engulfed by gushing green flames.

Bm-bmp…

The sound reverberated through the walls and air itself as the cardboard box disintegrated into a pile of white-hot ash. The only thing that remained was a cube of dazzling lavender light in the shape of countless intricate runes and figures, topped by what looked like a glowing keyhole.

Bm-bmp…

The enchantments flexed, bowing outward as a wave of something hot slammed into them, blindingly bright. Such was the force that even the floorboards under everypony’s hooves shook, as if it had been struck.

Applejack’s nightstand toppled over, and yet the object remained exactly in the same place a few feet off the ground. It was trembling now, flexing… cracking…

Bm-bmp…

One enchanted shattered with a sound like smashing glass, swiftly followed by another and another.

Applejack was swiftly backing up now, a sudden and intense feeling of dread gripping her. Whatever was inside that enchanted cube of layered spells, whatever was breaking its way out – whatever was filling the air with a steady, rhythmic beating sound – she wanted no part of it. 

Bm-BMP…

The keyhole fractured, cracked… and exploded into a million shards of light, causing everypony present to yelp and shield their eyes. And with the final enchantment broken, the rest ripped themselves apart like tatters of cloth in a hurricane.

Through narrowed eyes and over the top of one hoof, Applejack finally laid eyes on the thing filling her with such fear.

It was perfectly round, unnaturally round, and roughly the size of a melon. It flashed in time with the rhythmic pounding punching Applejack in the chest. A wall of pure magical percussion rippled through the room; a shadow of darkness, pulsing forth with an unsettling, entropic green light.

Each thump seemed to make the air and Applejack’s lungs hotter, her skin more prickly and uncomfortable.

The object simply hung in place, beating with uncontained magic and something that stoked the deepest, most private terrors in Applejack’s heart, as if something truly horrific was staring her down, savoring the moment before it pounced…

And then, all at once, it stopped.

The flashing ceased. The pounding, the radiating fear and power, all of it halted, and with a heavy thud, the orb dropped to the ground, bounced once, and rolled until coming to a halt against one leg of Applejack’s bed. 

Light poured in from the window once again. The walls were still. All seemed unnaturally, eerily quiet.

For about ten seconds.

“…Whoa,” breathed Rainbow. “That… that was spooky.”

“That’s one word for it,” said Applejack quietly.

“Scary? Freaky?”

“Warmer,” Applejack muttered.

Carefully, she moved closer, inching uneasily in the direction of the disturbingly quiet object now resting benignly against her own bed. Even the faintest glimmer from the impurities inside its crystalline surface catching the light made Applejack skitter back, but nothing further happened. Whatever power it had held, apparently it’d just completely expended itself.

“What the hay is that?” Rainbow asked, and by the sounds of it, she was trailing after Applejack, move for move.

And that was precisely when Agave merely trotted right passed them, right up to the ball, and picked it up in a hoof.

“Oooo. I’ve never seen a Corastone do that before,” she said, intrigued, rolling the orb this way and that while inspecting it closely. “You didn’t tell me you had one of these, Applejack.”

When she didn’t get a response, Agave looked around, only to find every pair of eyes in the room staring at her with open-mouthed disbelief.

“…What?”


~~***~~


For the second time in under ten minutes, the entire group found themselves seated around the table in the Apple farmhouse kitchen. This time, however, all attention was put squarely on a little grey pegasus filly, who was currently looking as flustered as one could be, given the circumstances.

The glassy ball sat in the middle of the table, motionless and, thankfully, lifeless once more. The glass bowl upended over it showed how little everypony trusted it, anyway.

“So…” Rainbow started, feigning a casual air almost perfectly. “Being our resident expert, Agave, you mind explaining what that is?”

Agave looked up at her, still playing with her hooves. “It’s… It’s a Corastone,” she said simply, as if that should have been explanation enough. “Mommy – I mean, mother has one like it, but she never lets me touch it.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Applejack grumbled dryly, wringing out her hoof. It’d been on pins and needles ever since.

Agave glanced at her, her confusion showing through. “So… you’re saying that wasn’t yours?”

“Nope,” Applejack responded. “Never had one before.”

She explained how it had first come to her, which only made Agave even more confused.

“I… I don’t get it,” she mumbled. “Those books I… um… borrowed… when I was looking up the third molt… I think I remember one or two of them saying that every queen has one.”

Rainbow grew puzzled over that. “How?”

Agave could only offer a clueless shrug as a response.

“I don’t know. But… if they’re anything like mother’s… No one would ever let their Corastone out of their sight, let alone mail it to someone.”

“But isn't that what happened?" inquired Pinkie, totally lost.

Agave nodded. “Yes… and that makes no sense… And this one reacted so weird, too…”

“What’s normal?” Rainbow asked.

In answer, Agave gestured to the Corastone as it was – motionless and lifeless.

The room fell quiet once more, all eyes on the Corastone.

The more Applejack looked at it, the more she could swear she saw shifts in its light; an ever so faint, almost ephemeral glimmer dancing within its bottle-green heart, keeping time with a two-beat rhythm…

The scene she’d witness played through her mind again, and again, she shivered to herself. That voice… she recognized it, like some subconscious memory of a bad nightmare. But where…?

“…Applejack?”

She jolted and sat up, eyes flicking upwards across the table – towards the speaker, Agave.

She was looking at her with a look of concern, her eyes just barely peeking through her mane. “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Applejack’s reflexive denial came to the tip of her tongue… until something else muscled it out of the way, just as she opened her mouth.

“Ah think it’s time we got movin’,” she said. “We can sit here thinkin’ it over, or we can go find some answers.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah… yeah, moving sounds good. Before anything else happens.”

That was precisely the moment a cloaked changeling materialized in the chair right next to Applejack.

“Your Highness,” he said urgently, oblivious to the chorus of shrieks and yelps his sudden appearance had invoked, “There is a group of Royal Guards moving towards the front gate. Not a patrol. And they’re armed.”

“Me and my big mouth,” growled Rainbow.

Applejack snarled and glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the front door. How had Steel Shod figured it out already? Or was he just being paranoid?

“Welp, sounds like y’all better get a move on,” Granny Smith said, and her tone took Applejack by surprise; she hardly sounded fazed at all. She might as well have just wished her a safe trip to the market.

Applejack looked at her, and witnessed the small smile on the elder pony’s face. “Y’all go take care of business now,” Granny said, “and hurry on back. There’s still lots o’ apples that need buckin’.”

Applejack blinked at her. Then, after climbing down from her chair, she threw herself at Granny for one last, great big hug.

Granny chuckled, and gently patted her on the back. “Ain’t no time fer that, sugarcube. Off you git; shoo, shoo. We’ll be just fine ‘till ya get back.”

Applejack started to say something, failed, then simply nodded into her shoulder.

“Atta girl. Yer bags are on the back step. Now go.”

Again, Applejack nodded, then quickly stepped away. Not daring a backward glance, she ran for the back porch. “Let’s go.”

“Right!”

“R-right behind you.”

Rainbow jolted forward... then came to a stop, glancing over her shoulder. "Pinkie? You coming?"

The party pony just waved a farewell hoof at them. "Oh! don't worry, I'll catch up! You just leave these guys to Auntie Pinkie Pie!" At the same time, she reached into her mane and pulled out -- of all things -- a pair of silly glasses with a fake nose, a top hat, and a pair of scuba-diver flippers. "Time for 'Operation: Smelly Condor'!" she cried, just before hopping from her chair. "I'm going to need ten paper clips, two pipe cleaners, all the lint you can find, and a glass eye! Wait, TWO glass eyes! Better be safe than sorry! And trust me, you do not want to be sorry with 'Smelly Condor'."

"She's right," said Rainbow, suddenly looking pale, "time to go!"

Apple Bloom jumped from her chair as well, but a big red hoof caught her. “Nope.”

“But Ah want ta go, too!” Applejack heard Apple Bloom protest.

Whatever Big Mac said back, she would never heard. The last thing she heard as she burst through the screen door was a heavy hammering on the opposite end of the house – the sound of an armored hoof banging on wood.


~~***~~


The next few minutes were a whirlwind for Applejack. She’d donned her pack so fast she wasn’t even sure which one she’d grabbed, then darted off into the orchards.

Bad memories drifted through her minds eye of the last time she’d been running hastily through the trees, but she dismissed them and focused only on the path ahead.

One hill later, it suddenly occurred to her that she was supposed to be traveling with company. She glanced over her shoulder once, but immediately felt some relief; Rainbow was right on her tail, saddle bags in place, including one Agave, who sat on her back while clutching onto a ball of white linen table cloth…

It was only once her throat started to burn that Applejack slowed down to a gentler trot.

Rainbow dropped into step beside her, and Agave took to her wings as they headed deeper into the orchards.

“Just like old times, huh,” Rainbow muttered dryly. Apparently Applejack hadn’t been alone in her thinking.

“Sure feels like it.”

Rainbow then glanced up, narrowing her eyes as they passed an opening in the tree branches overhead. “I figure we’ve got a couple hours before it gets dark, so we’d better find Zecora before then.”

Applejack nodded. The only thing worse than the Everfree Forest was the Everfree Forest at night. Granny Smith had told her stories growing up, every Nightmare Night…

Stories…

Applejack frowned to herself, lost in thought. She was aware of a conversation happening beside her – something to do with Zecora, she thought – but she didn’t pay attention.

 She came to you about a youngling’s fairytale? You, of all creatures?

“…Right Applejack?... Applejack?”

She jolted, snapping back to reality to find Rainbow looking at her, her face slowly turning from confusion to alertness.

“What’s wrong?” she asked seriously. So seriously, in fact, that Applejack blinked in surprise.

“N-nothin’. Well… maybe,” she waffled. Instead of giving Rainbow a better answer than that, she instead turned towards a curious filly watching her.

“Agave… what can ya tell me about the Maker?” she asked, trying at being casual.

It didn’t work. Agave blinked, completely thrown off guard. “Uh… just stories. Why?”

Applejack bit her lip. “That… Corastone thing… before y’all showed up, Ah touched the box it was in, and… Ah saw somethin’.”

She related the story, trying her best to dull the unsavory bits. Even with her efforts, Rainbow looked unsettled, and Agave more than a little troubled.

“That… sounds like Queen Honeycomb,” Agave said nervously. “I’ve heard M-mother talking about her before. She says she knows a lot of things… a lot of very old things. But she keeps it all locked up and doesn't share it with anyone. I don’t know why.”

“Sounds like she and her daughter had a falling out,” Rainbow said grimly.

For some reason, that only made Agave more fretful. “I… I didn’t know she even had a daughter. Most queens like to show off their heirs. Unless it was a memory from a long time ago…”

“A memory?” Rainbow echoed, raising an eyebrow? “So, you’re saying there might be more in that thing?”

Agave grimaced, then looked down at the hastily gathered wad of table cloth she was carrying. “Maybe… I don’t know. I didn’t read very much about Corastones. I don’t think even the queens know much about them…”

“Well that’s promising,” grumbled Rainbow. “But what’s all this about the Maker?”

Agave glanced towards Applejack, and saw she was looking at her just as intently. For some reason, that confused her.“You… you’ve never heard of the story?” she asked. Both ponies shook their heads.

That response seemed to throw her so much.

“Oh. Mother used to tell it to me when I was little before…” she caught herself. “I mean… I’ve heard her tell it before.”

She ignored the looks she got, and instead went on after clearing her throat.

“Um… basically, the Maker was the first queen to ever live,” she said. “All queens come from her… or at least that’s what mother would tell me. As the story goes, she came to the changelings during a very bad time and saved them, showed them how to work together, and gave them structure. In order to repay their debts, the changelings swore undying allegiance to the Maker, and followed her wherever she went, and they lived happily ever after. Or… something like that.”

A look of confusion crossed her face. “I thought every changeling knew that story. Mother used to tell it to me all the time, and surely everyone knows who the Maker is.”

“Yer point?” Applejack asked, trying not to sound testy about being the only changeling not to know the tale.

Agave’s expression became more conflicted. “Well… if everyone knows it… why did Carnation go to Honeycomb to learn about it? From what I've heard, Honeycomb doesn’t give anyone any of her secrets without doing something really difficult for her to impress her. So…”

“So, whatever she was after,” Rainbow finished, “It was important enough for her to put herself through that ordeal.”

“Exactly,” Agave said with a nod. “But… why? What’s so important about an old fairytale?”

“Answer one question, get another,” Applejack sighed.

“Well,” Agave said quickly, “look on the bright side. At least now we have a clue about why she came here, right?”

It didn’t get much vaguer, but Applejack had to concede the point there. At least now they had something. Not much of something, but it was certainly better than the nothing they had before.

“Well,” Applejack said, “hopefully Hyacinth’s place will have somethin’ ta shed some light on all of this.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow piped up, sounding bitter, “We just have to get there without anything else happening.”

That was exactly when they rounded a bend, and came face to face with five fully armed stallions who looked just as surprised to see them as they were.

“Me and my big fat mouth,” whined Rainbow while Applejack looked towards the sky in sheer exasperation.

“Hold it right there!” one of them bellowed, lowering his spear first.

Rainbow tensed, crouching low threateningly. Applejack braced, ready for a fight, and Agave quickly dove behind them both with a squeak.

“State your names and business,” the lead stallion ordered. “What are you doing out here?”

“W-would you believe we're taking a stroll?” Agave peeped.

Applejack couldn’t help but feel her gut twist. She knew, any moment now, if these five stallions made a move on them, they were going to have the worst day of their lives. And that was not something they needed right now, not with Steel Shod's watchful gaze bearing down on them.

Worse, the lead stallion was staring straight at her. Surely he recognized her – not many in their line of work in Ponyville wouldn’t. She braced for a scene, knowing it could only get worse from here on out…

“… Right, carry on.”

For a moment, Applejack couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Literally unable to fathom it.

She looked up, and was dumbstruck by the sight of all five stallions lifting their spears and relaxing their stances. “You ladies have a safe day now,” the squad leader state, tipped his helmet courteously, and made to leave. Just like that.

Rainbow summed up Applejack’s thoughts best.

“What the hay just happened?”

“Ah… don’t even…,” Applejack started to say, as the squad moved passed her.

That was when the last stallion in the group suddenly glanced in her direction, and then quickly stepped out of formation and darted straight up to her so suddenly she couldn’t help but back away.

“There. We’re even,” he hissed in a harsh undertone at her. “You tell that Spymaster we’re square now. We’re done. No more favors. You tell him, got that? Now get out of here, before Sergeant Lackadaisy’s other patrol comes through.”

“Uh.. w-wha…”

“You heard me! Go, now, before we all regret this!” the stallion shot at her.

Finally, she got the message. Applejack’s head was still whirling in complete confusion, but she didn’t waste any more time second guessing their inexplicable good fortune. She grabbed Rainbow, who was still standing motionless, brain jammed, and pushed her on. “Come on, everypony, we gotta go!”

Finally Rainbow’s legs remembered how to walk, and she started off hastily with no other direction besides Applejack’s insistent push in her back end, Agave bringing up the rear. They were almost out of sight when Applejack glanced over her shoulder one last time, just as the last armored stallion disappeared further into the orchards.

And of course, now she had even more questions than ever before. 
		
	
	
	
	
> Chapter 10: On the Trail
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	An unseasonable chill hung in the air over Ponyville. Cool rain and heavy cloud cover kept the thermometer down in comfortable levels. But the clouds were starting to break up, letting rays of sunlight seep in to the damp earth below.

The weather ponies had done their job flawlessly as usual, and now the rest of the village was coming out to try and enjoy the cooler weather before the unrelenting summer heat took over again.

Even with the events of the previous day fresh in their minds, the ponies of Ponyville did what they did best and got about their lives as usual. Granted, exploding zepplins and ominous threats were new ones, but the quaint city was hardly unused to calamity. Likely, the out-of-towners were going to need a couple months' worth of therapy to work past the trauma, and the media circuit would be stuck on the topic for weeks, but Ponyvillians had thicker hides than that.

Things were already almost back to business as usual. The market was bustling, ponies were stopping to chat in the streets with smiles and friendly banter, and traffic on the ground and in the sky was healthy, without being crowded.

But not everything was quite back to normal yet, and everypony was already well aware of that, no matter how many sets of eyes tried to stubbornly see past it.

The rattle and clank of patrolling Royal Guards was not a cherished sound. After what happened the last time they had been out in force, the sound elicited more than one nervous glance over a shoulder whenever it reached a pony’s ears.

Ponies did their best to keep the unease at a minimum, but it remained as a constant reminder in the backs of their minds nonetheless; a nagging paranoia of their surroundings that loomed heavy over everything.

From her perch atop a thatched roof cottage, Cloudkicker witnessed all of this, a discontented look darkening her muzzle.

She watched a patrol of three Royal Guards stomp noisily down the road below, marching in crisp formation. With the amount of noise they were making between their uniform marching and clanking armor, there was little chance of them sneaking up on anypony on the same block. Yet two patrols had already passed Cloudkicker in under half an hour. Captain Steel Shod was pulling out all the stops, without a doubt.

But there was something else that weighed on Cloudkicker’s mind more: a lack of something, actually. Something she found even more noticeable than the patrolling security detail marching through every street.

Not once since the sun had come up had she heard even a single thrum from a changeling wing. Not once had she seen one of their black profiles in the sky or wandering the streets like lost puppies. It was as if, overnight, half of the population of Ponyville had simply vanished behind their verdant green walls without a peep of complaint.

Getting over the distraction the Guard had presented, Cloudkicker returned to what she had been doing previously; carefully observing the changeling district – silent, unmoving, and unsettling for it. There’d always been this intangible energy about the district, some sense of motion at all times, very much like a beehive or ant hill. Now it was all just… still.

Not a single changeling had so much as peeked out of the thickets, not even one single glowing blue peeper. There wasn’t even a hint of activity echoing up through the trees; no even a single bird chirp. It was as if the entire hive was sitting just as motionlessly as she was, just as watchful – just as observant – waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.

In fact, the only living beings she’d seen in that direction were stationed around one of the entrances to the district – a full contingent of guards, armed for bear and brandishing banners like nopony would know who they were otherwise. They hadn’t moved since Cloudkicker had taken up her stakeout position in the wee hours of the morning, and likely wouldn’t move for a good while yet. But she couldn’t help but feel disconcerted at the sight of them facing into the district instead of out…

The complete absence of so many made her fidget restlessly. Changelings had become a regular fixture around town, no more out of place than a pegasus or unicorn. Everypony had acclimated to their presence, so to now have them gone was almost as much of a system shock as when they’d first turned up.

For there to be nothing now… They certainly were a skittish bunch.

She had no idea what had happened, not beyond Captain Steel Shod’s announcement of the lockdown. But somehow, someway, Cloudkicker’s gut told her that Rainbow Dash was involved. She’d had that feeling the moment she turned up out of the blue, more intense than ever before with a wild look in her eyes, demanding unscheduled rain… then she’d vanished again. 

It wasn’t like Cloudkicker didn’t have an idea of where to look. But beyond that, the task of unraveling the mystery had been left to her mind. And she’d had a few hours to puzzle over it.

It’d been the first she’d seen of Rainbow since the evacuation yesterday, and if her expression had been anything to go by, things in the district were not hunky-dory. And if things in the district weren’t hunky-dory, then that meant something big had happened to Applejack. And if something had happened to Applejack…	

Really, she could be just that predictable sometimes.

“Geez, there you are!”

Cloudkicker jolted slightly, then looked around. Firstly, that had not been the voice she’d been waiting for. It wasn’t even a mare’s voice. Secondly, it wasn’t coming from the direction she was expecting, either.

The street below was empty. The patrol had long-since rounded the block. The airspace off to Cloudkicker’s left, however, had a new occupant.

When she glanced towards the figure, Cloudkicker almost did a double take. But then she realized that the black figure was not what it initially appeared to be.

“Oh… hey Thunderlane. Long time no see.”

The charcoal-black stallion huffed, giving her an irritated look that ,frankly, she didn’t feel she deserved. “No kidding. I’ve been looking all over for you. The next time you decide to skip work, do it when Miss Firefly isn’t up in arms. Things are crazy enough without playing search party.”

Cloudkicker rolled her eyes. “So never take a day off ever again. Gotcha.”

Thunderlane glanced between Cloudkicker and the mass of leaves that loomed nearby. Something in her absent tone had given her away, and it didn’t take Thunderlane long to put two and two together.

“Come on, ‘Kicker. She’s been gone a day,” he scoffed. “Don’t be that mare.”

It wouldn’t have been so irritating if he’d only been referring to Rainbow.

“Buzz off, Thunder,” Cloudkicker huffed, picking herself up, and turned to give her pesterer her undivided attention. “Do you have something else to say, or do you really want to chat with me right now?” she said with a pointed stare to make her threat all the more apparent to somepony as thickheaded as Thunderlane.

Having been subjected to some of Cloudkicker’s fouler moods in the past, Thunderlane barely batted an eyelash at her hard tone. “Chill. I just came by to see if you knew where the boss was,” he said, now bothering with diplomacy. “Firefly’s been getting… well, more Firefly than usual. Something about Rainbow not making it home last night, and well… you know how she gets whenever the boss is involved.”

Cloudkicker grimaced. The weather manager had a very funny way of expressing her concern, especially when it came to her only daughter. Most mothers didn’t tend to put said daughters in headlocks as a disciplinary measure until they “quit their fussing”, for one thing.

“Sorry, haven’t seen her,” Cloudkicker said with a shrug. “But if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say she’s down in there somewhere.” She jerked her head towards the motionless district. As if it needed indicating, being only a block away across the rooftops and dominating a good portion of the skyline in that direction. “And I’d bet the rest of my salary for the year she’s up to something with Applejack. You know, like usual.”

Thunderlane turned to eye the district, and visibly seemed to reconsider his options. “Ugh, no bet. But if you see her, tell her her mom’s looking for her. You know, before she goes and gets her herself.”

Cloudkicker nodded. Not that she wouldn’t pay to see that, but they had enough to worry about without ‘Hurricane Firefly’ tearing through downtown in search of the spawn of her loins.

She turned to look at Thunderlane out of the corner of her eye, just as he turned to leave. “You know, you could probably go in there and check it out for yourself if it’s so important,” she pointed out. “Save us all some time and collateral.”

She knew the response she’d get, but she still felt like poking him anyway. Thunderlane trembled and stuck his tongue out, feigning retching. “Blech, no thanks. One, those things give me the creeps. Have you seen their eyes? I had nightmares for weeks. Two, the Royal Guard wouldn’t let me get close, so what’s the point? I’ve got better things to do.”

Cloudkicker raised an eyebrow. Oh, this should be good…

“Such as…?” she prompted. Honestly, she hadn’t been expecting an actual answer, so when Thunderlane fixed her with a look, she was somewhat taken aback.

“Such as,” he said stiffly, “a trip to Canterlot. Folks are going, so I’m going, too.”

Curiosity reared its ugly head in Cloudkicker’s mind. “Strange time to go on vacation,” she noted casually.

Now it was Thunderlane’s turn to give her a bizzare look. “You really must be out of the loop. Haven’t you heard? There’s supposed to be a really big forum in the Day Court this evening. Everypony’s going to be there.”

Ah… well, that did explain a few things.

“And let me guess,” Cloudkicker drawled, overcome with a sudden onset case of the ‘disinterests’, “It’s all because of the royals’ favorite topic; the changelings.”

“Of course,” Thunderlane said, indifferent to Cloudkicker’s tone. He just kept his chest puffed up, like he did when he was doing his best ‘aloof Rainbow’ impression. “I don’t know if you noticed, but ponies are really talking this time. What if what that changeling said yesterday really happens?”

Cloudkicker shrugged, turning back towards the district. “Who knows? Don’t sweat it, Thunderlane. The princesses aren’t exactly going to take this lying down, you know, and neither is Applejack or her friends, including the boss. If nopony feels like doing anything constructive, just like them handle it.”

“I know, it’s just… ponies are talking, you know.”

“Then let them talk,” Cloudkicker rebuffed indifferently, a slight tick of irritation in her voice. “They’ve been doing that for months already. Nothing new there.”

“No, this is different, Cloudkicker,” Thunderlane pressed. “I mean… It’s not just Canterlot anymore, and it’s not just the fat cats. A lot of ponies are getting nervous. Plus, I heard there’s a petition…”

She flicked her eyes back to Thunderlane, who was clearly gauging her expression and waiting for some kind of response.

“And that’s news because…?” she asked while winding a hoof through the air as if to prompt an explanation. “Seriously, TL, the nobles write up a new petition to kick out the changelings every other month. Celestia’s just going to keep striking them down until she finally loses her temper and punts the lot of them to the moon. How is this so groundbreaking?”

“Well, it’s bad, right?” Thunderlane said back, a little defensive now. “And it’s not just in Canterlot; ponies here are starting to talk, too. I mean, what if what that guy said really does happen? Do we really want a repeat of the last changeling attack?”

He was clearly antsy, constantly fidgeting and changing position in midair, and he kept compulsively scratching at the back of his neck, a nervous tick that always came out when he was anxious.

Cloudkicker scowled. She had the distinct feeling she knew which way he would vote if given the chance. “Oh come on. You really think the boss’ll let it get that bad again? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve got changelings of our own this time fighting fire with fire. Seriously, since when did you become such a worrywart?”

Thunderlane glared right back. “Since I had a little brother who didn’t do anything to anypony. As far as I see it, this is their problem, not ours. Why are they getting us involved, too? I get that it’s bad where they come from, but we didn’t ask to get dragged into the middle of a war.”

Cloudkicker had an answer, but she kept her lips firmly shut. It wasn’t like they didn’t know which side of the fence each of them sat on when it came to this topic, and if she got into another fight over it…

“… Look,” grunted Thunderlane, not making eye contact anymore. “Just tell Rainbow Dash to go see the manager.”

“Will do,” Cloudkicker responded curtly.

With that, he left, either because he’d grown a brain and decided to back off or had finally said all he wanted to say; Cloudkicker wasn’t in much of a mood to speculate.

Thunderlane was one of those ponies that wasn’t all for the changelings around town. This was well known already. Certainly he wasn’t the worst; he didn’t go out of his way to discriminate like some ponies did. But she had to admit, he’d never been this vocal about it, even after his little brother Rumble started tailing after a sweetie from the district like a dumbstruck moth following a filly-shaped candle. Ah, to be young again… 

But even then, Thunderlane had made his opinion known loud and clear, but that was all.

To actually go to Canterlot… Next thing Cloudkicker knew, he’d be one of those picketers in front of City Hall that’d seen a resurgence lately.

For some reason, that single point of fact bothered her a lot more than she thought it should have. Despite differences of opinions, they’d still been friends for a long time. She may have a very sour outlook on his actions, but that was only because they stirred a deeper sense of unease.

I don’t know what’s going on around here, Boss, and I don’t know what you have up your sleeve. But whatever you and Applejack are up to, you’d better get your tails in gear before this craziness gets any worse…


~~***~~


Applejack didn’t much like the Everfree Forest. True, not many ponies could claim they did, but Applejack especially held a deep-seated respect for the place in her heart. A respect border-lining on aversion. 

Maybe it came from growing up in the forest’s shadow, and the occasional yet terrifying encounters that came with it. Maybe it came from Granny Smith, who’d spent the better part of Applejack’s youth filling her head with stories of terrible things within the forest’s depths: the Headless Horse, the Jabberwocky, the Olden Pony, ‘Old Rotbreath’, and countless more that made her wary of ever stepping one hoof within the forest’s borders, and humbled her daring spirit in the face of that dark place.

Even to that day, every foray into the dark thickets felt like a test of her courage and wits. She always kept herself on high alert, and every muscle stayed keyed for action at a moment’s notice; one arrant rustle, one barely perceptible snarl, and they’d be in trouble. Sometimes it was thrilling… so long as she held true to that respect. The forest was quick to punish even the smallest slight.

That visit to the infamous forest was hardly any different.

Just a few steps into the dark underbrush, and the sky was completely lost to her. Thick, gnarled branches curled through the air above them, wearing thick curtains of hanging moss that smelled of rain and dead things. Where the sunlight could not reach, the branches had become twisted and stricken of greenery; dead bones yet to slough off the greater whole.

Strange plants were everywhere; most were beautiful, all undoubtedly harmful in some way or another. Applejack did her best to avoid the thick stuff, but vegetation was everywhere: fallen trees covered in suspicious fungal caps oozing luminescent spores, vines wound so tight around tree trunks they bit deep into the bark with cruel barbs, and so many different kinds of flowers she couldn’t rightly recall all of them, all competing for what scraps of light they could bask in from the canopy. In the Everfree, even the plants were engaged in a battle for supremacy with one another.

And the sounds…

Birds cawed and shrieked in the trees above, not so much serenading the day as they were issuing threats to anything dumb enough to draw too close. Insects hummed and trilled incessantly, falling into tense silence only when Applejack drew near.

The rustle of the underbrush as something scurried through it… the rattle of branches as a bird took flight… the snap of a twig directly behind her…

Applejack glanced behind her, just to be sure, only to have the culprit blink at her.

“What?” asked Rainbow, head cocked to one side slightly. She said it a little defensively, too, since she was perfectly aware of who had stepped on that twig.

She walked just a few steps back, her wings restless and prone to unfurling almost absently, but she kept her eyes forward, down the winding game trail they followed. She was putting up a front, Applejack could tell; even the brazen mare didn’t like being in the Everfree if she could help it. The claustrophobia of the forest probably wasn’t doing any favors for the winged mare, either.

But neither felt much like engaging the other over their sense of unease. To do so meant admitting they were nervous in the first place, and their prides would stoop to no such level.

So what if that gap in a nearby bush looked like a Timber Wolf muzzle? So what if they could have sworn they caught a whiff of the choking stench of a hydra? It wasn’t like they were nervous or anything.

…

Maybe just a little bit, but neither would ever admit to such a thing.

Focus, Applejack, she thought to herself, and frowned with concentration. Sooner or later, Rainbow was going to lose her temper if Applejack kept shooting her looks after every sound she made.

She pinned her eyes back on the trail they were following; a familiar one, one she’d used many a time whenever duty called her into the forest. Calling it the safest option they had might be a bit of a misnomer, since the only ‘safety’ afforded to them was familiarity. That wouldn’t account for much if they wandered headlong into a roving timber wolf pack.

A faint rustle in the bush ahead of them – a chipmunk scampering for cover, perhaps. Wind rattled the bare branches over their heads, though the air on the forest floor remained motionless. The feel of –

“What’s that?”

Applejack about jumped out of her skin at Agave’s innocent question. Rainbow was quicker to spin around, apparently having been jarred just as bad as she was.

Agave was only half a step behind Rainbow, wearing a look of simple curiosity as she pointed off to one side.

Rainbow followed where she was pointing, and wrinkled her muzzle. “Er, yeah… pretty sure that’s Poison Joke. Uh, don’t touch it.”

Agave stared at the small flower bed as they passed. “But they’re really pretty…”

“Trust me,” Rainbow said dourly. “The last thing we need is you growing ten feet tall or something.”

After that, Agave didn’t look nearly as fascinated with the curly-leafed blue flowers.

The walked in silence for a few minutes more, when suddenly –

“Oh, what’s that?” piped up Agave again, pointing to something overhead.

Applejack looked up this time, a trace of exasperation nipping at her – only to turn instantly to shock when she found two huge, perfectly round eyes staring right back at her from above. “…Pretty sure that’s just an owl,” Applejack mumbled after taking in the rest of the body that glare was attached to.

The screech owl just sat on its perch, staring accusingly at the trio with huge steely eyes. The fact that it hardly moved and didn’t utter so much as a peep as they drew near unnerved Applejack. After all, in the Everfree, it rarely was the noisy inhabitants one had to worry about.

And yet, this entire concept seemed to be utterly lost on Agave. She looked at her, looking totally lost. “What’s an owl? I’ve never seen one before.”

That question stumped Applejack. “Guess they don’t have ‘em in the south,” she noted.

Agave shook her head. “No. I did read a story about birds by the coast that hunt “w-hales”, whatever those are. Ooo, does Equestria have terrordactyls, too?”

Both Applejack and Rainbow exchanged horrified looks when she wasn’t looking. What exactly did one say to that?

“Er… no,” Rainbow finally got out around the lump in her throat. “Pretty sure we don’t.”

Agave didn’t seem terribly put off by that. She just watched the owl until they’d passed, her eyes glittering with wonder. “Are there a lot of owls in Equestria? They look so cute.”

Rainbow gave Applejack an incredulous look while saying to Agave, “Uh… yeah, I suppose. Twilight kinda adopted one as a pet.”

That got her attention. “You can have owls as pets?” she asked, suddenly very intense.

Rainbow mouthed “wow” at Applejack, who had to keep her own grin in check, before saying, “Well yeah. You can have all sorts of animals as pets. Applejack’s got Winona, Pinkie’s got Gummy… I even have one.”

“You do? Is it fun? What’s your pet called? Can I see it?”

Rainbow chuckled a little. Agave sounded like this was all vitally important information to her future wellbeing. “Look, when we get through this, I’ll take you to Fluttershy’s place. I get the feeling the two of you will get along great.”

After that, Agave could barely sit still.

With her distracted by images of adorable animals and whatever activities they’d get up to together, Rainbow turned back towards Applejack.

“So…”

“So…?” Applejack echoed, raising an eyebrow at her without turning away from the road.

Something in Rainbow’s expression shifted – an edge of uncertainty crept in that was in danger of looking like actual worry. “You sure Zecora will know something? Cuz… we’re kinda up the creek without a paddle if not.”

Applejack nodded. “Positive, sugarcube,” she said with absolute certainty. “When all that craziness with Vigil hit, she asked Zecora ta look after my family. Ah know it ain’t much, but… Only other option is ta go rootin’ around through Freedom and…” she faltered a bit. “Truth be told… Ah wouldn’t know where ta start. Ah don’t think we’d explore it all in a day or two even with the rest of the girls here, and with Steel Shod’s lockdown keepin’ the other changelin’s in Ponyville…”

She could feel Rainbow’s eyes on her, but she kept turned away. She’d tried to pick the right words without pointing out the one thing that hung over her worse than the gloom of the forest; that she didn’t have a day or two to search. The more they focused on that one fact, the less it felt like they could actually overcome it…

Rainbow nodded to herself, suddenly resolute. “Okay, Zecora it is. Just you wait, Applejack; we’ll be done before you know it.”

Applejack kept that grin in check, too, but it was substantially more difficult to do so.

“Of course, the trick’s gonna be findin’ her,” she mumbled. “There’s no tellin’ where Zecora is right now.”

Rainbow frowned at that. She hated to admit it, but Applejack did sort of have a point. Finding where she lived was one thing. Finding the zebra herself? That could take forever… and they didn’t have nearly that long…

But then Rainbow shook her head roughly. No, no! Stop thinking like that! It was way too early to throw in the towel over something so stupid as doubts!

While Applejack glanced around, resuming her vigilance, unbeknownst to her, Rainbow straightened up.

“No sweat,” she said confidently. “If that’s all we have to do, we’ll be done before lunch! Just you watch; I’ll find her in no time!”

She ignored the perplexed look she got from Applejack, instead forging ahead down the path. Her head turned this way and that sharply, looking for any sign of their white-on-grey quarry.

Applejack just blinked at her, arching an eyebrow, the whole while watching as Rainbow inspected the ground with keen interest, looking for tracks.

“Uh… Rain –”

“Ah-hah!” she proclaimed so loudly Applejack jumped. Rainbow reared up, pointing with a hoof. “Over there!” And off she zoomed into the underbrush… only to reappear a second to two later, mane full of twigs and coat covered in leaves, frowning again. “Nope… But what about… Over there!”

Off she shot again… only to reappear moments later, even more disheveled. “Nope.”

Applejack shook her head, letting out her breath, and just kept walking forward, all the while watching the rambunctious pegasus turn their patch of forest upside down in pursuit of their target.

Agave trotted up beside her while she was distracted. Applejack only became aware of her presence when the filly raised her voice. “Are you feeling better, Applejack?”

Applejack looked at her, confused. “Why?”

Agave fidgeted slightly. “Well… you’re smiling.”

She blinked. Was she?

Applejack straightened her facial features and glanced away, pretending to have noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

And for the first time in a very long time, fortune smiled on her. Because through a small break in the trees, she spotted a familiar twisted tree in the middle of a small clearing. It would have been just any other in the dense forest, if it wasn’t for the telltale door fixed to the front.

At the same time Applejack started to open her mouth, she felt a whoosh of air over her head, as Rainbow cried out. “There it is! Told you I’d find it!”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but said nothing to ruin the moment for her friend. Instead, as the trio moved closer, she cast an eye over the small shelter.

Aside from the doorway, there was very little to indicate that the thing in front of them was somepony’s home. The two windows on either side of the doorway could have been hollows bored into the side of the trunk and used as nests for all manner of forest creatures.

But the longer one looked, the more details started to become apparent.

Strange bottles of various sizes and colors hung from long ropes from several branches, clinking together with a wooden clunk whenever the breeze played with them. Some sounded empty. Most did not.

The most eye-catching thing stood just off to one side of the entryway; a peculiar totem that looked like some sort of sleeping animal’s face.

The only thing the small hut was missing was its owner.

As Applejack stepped closer, she couldn’t help but glance around warily. No lights were on inside the hut. Nothing stirred in the clearing, save for the bottles of unknowable brews swaying slightly in the breeze.

The very air felt different here. Perhaps it was the circulation afforded to this place, but the smell and taste of it was… off. Nothing Applejack could put her hoof on, but there was no denying it.

Even the sounds seemed unusual. Where once the bird calls had been shrill and piercing, now they seemed subdued, as if trying to keep themselves in check for fear of disturbing something.

“Is this the place?” Agave asked tentatively, craning her head slightly to see over a hedge.

Applejack nodded. “No sign of Zecora around, but she’s bound ta come back sooner or later.”

“So… we’re just going to wait for her?” Rainbow asked. She tried to sound neutral, but Applejack caught the tone of disapproval hiding behind her words.

“Better that than stumblin’ headlong into trouble.”

Rainbow didn’t argue, but she didn’t exactly look very enthused, either.

She paused, and was just about to turn to console – or at least chastise – the hothead… when she heard something.

It was an odd something; something that anypony with one half-deaf ear could have picked out in a heartbeat. The forest around them had continued to make its regular din, but by then Applejack had grown used to what to listen for.

A cat meowing off to her right? Now that was a new one.

Rainbow heard it, too. She turned to give Applejack the same look, then both turned to look in the direction of the sound.

About twenty feet further down the trail, a suspiciously nondescript bush was suddenly and inexplicably shaking… and hissing angrily at itself.

Rainbow and Applejack flicked their eyes back to each other while all of this carried on.

The strange bush continued its antics for several long seconds… until it seemed to come to the realization that three sets of eyes were turned its way.

Applejack breathed out through her nose, an eyebrow arching. “So… Y’all gonna come on out, or what?”

Of course she had a good idea what the culprits were, and sure enough, a few moments later, she was proven right as two changelings crawled out into the open, looking all sorts of ashamed with themselves.

Heads held low, both stepped forward nervously. “S-sorry, Your—I-I mean, Applejack,” the first mumbled. “I… I panicked and just… made the first sound that came to mind.”

Her companion glared sideways at her, mumbling, “A cat, of all things…”

The first looked at him, eyes wide with anxiety. “I-I panicked!”

Applejack couldn’t help but pause, her brows pulling together in confusion. “Bumblebee? What’re y’all doin’ out here?”

The mare gave an awkward flash of a smile with her head still tilted down. “U-uh… Hello. I-I was out gathering herbs. In… In case it’d help you get better. You know… after… blowing up…”

The only one who winced harder than Applejack and Rainbow was Bumblebee’s companion, who looked like he half expected to be murdered for her tactless comment.

There was nothing particularly unique about him, though that was not unusual for a changeling. However, Applejack couldn’t help but notice a tear in his wing that was currently aglow with soft green magic. Besides that, both he and Bumblebee looked virtually identical – if one ignored their radically different postures.

“But when I started to head back,” Bumblebee went on, ignorant, “there were all of these royal guards everywhere. I got nervous, so I just stayed put here. Then I ran into a group of Wasps…”

“Ran into,” the other changeling grumbled, rolling his eyes. “We came this close to attacking you.”

“Y-yeah,” Bumblebee said, wincing. “Th-that…”

“Wait,” Rainbow piped up, looking confused. “Wasps?”

The stallion nodded stiffly. “Scouts might be a better word for us. We’re the closest thing to… security Applejack’s hive has. We’re no Inner Sect, mind you, but we get the job done. We’ve been keeping an eye on the Everfree Forest, making sure the Court doesn’t get a hoofhold here. Name’s Willow, by the way. I take it you know this one?” He gestured to Bumblebee, who waved sheepishly back at the group.

“Sure do,” Applejack said back, but her frown didn’t let up.

“Good,” Willow grunted, “then get her the hay out of here. This is the last place someone like her should be.”

Bumblebee mumbled something about just wanting to help, but didn’t bother raising her voice high enough to properly object.

Applejack gave her a sympathetic look, but she couldn’t help but take Willow’s side. Someone like Bumblebee really didn’t belong in such a wild place as this.

“You guys see anything out here?” Rainbow asked, looking Willow up and down.

“Plenty,” he grunted, scowling. “Lot more than we were hoping for. Royal Guard had the same idea we did; it’s been a real Diamond Dog keeping a low profile and keeping tabs on things.”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “Steel Shod’s got troops out here?”

“Oh you better believe it,” Willow said darkly. “I get the feeling they’re not up for ‘unilateral cooperation’, neither. Normally, I say if they want our jobs out here, they can have ‘em; I’m willing to share the joy of getting chased for miles by timber wolves. But the timing is a little odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Willow turned his attention towards Applejack, studying her. Of all the looks changelings had given her, this was perhaps one of the more unusual; it was critical, not awed or reverently fearful. It wasn’t the wondrous gaze of a zealot. It was the once-over of a soldier.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you out here, Your Highness,” he said. “Then again, we haven’t heard back from the outside world in a good day or two. With what’s going on, I guess I don’t need to ask if anything’s happened back home, and beg pardon if I’m making assumptions, Your Highness, but something tells me you being out here at the same time Steel Shod’s taken an interest in sightseeing, too, isn’t pure coincidence.”

“Yeah, y’all could say that,” Applejack muttered bitterly. “It’s a good thing yer out here, though. We could use yer help findin’ Zecora.”

“Zecora?” repeated Willow, looking and sounding taken aback. “The hermit? Haven’t seen her for a while now. Not a big surprise though; I swear she has eyes in the back of her head. It’s kind of spooky how easy she avoids prying eyes if she doesn’t want them. But that’s a zebra for you…”

That had not been the news Applejack was hoping for. Quite the opposite; it took a good portion of the wind out of her sails.

Zecora was their one and only hope. Without her, they’d never find Hyacinth’s safehouse fast enough for it to matter…

Willow took in Applejack’s expression, pursing his lips slightly. “… Well, I’ve got a lot of good drones with me. If it’s something you’re looking for, we’ll get it found.”

“Oh!”

All four jumped in surprise, turning as one towards Bumblebee, who was suddenly bouncing in place with a big smile on her face. “Ooh, ooh! I know this one, I know this one!”

“Maker help me,” Willow sighed, rolling his translucent eyes. “What now?”

Still beaming, Bumblebee proclaimed, “I know where Zecora is!”

“Really?” asked Rainbow, though she sounded dubious. “Where?”

Bumblebee didn’t say a thing. Instead, she merely lifted one holey hoof… and pointed directly behind the trio.

Applejack and Rainbow blinked, turned, blinked at each other, then turned to look over their shoulders.

Straight into the face of a mildly annoyed zebra.

“If you are finished making such an uproar,” Zecora said coolly, “I would very much like to reach my door.”


~~***~~


Zecora was not used to receiving visitors, and her home reflected that. She hardly had anything in the way of furnishings, apart from a bed tucked into a private alcove, a few shelves cluttered with all manner of herbs and ingredients, and a gigantic cauldron sitting dead center in the hut.

Aside from a single chair set next to a shelf cut into the side of the tree – likely the closest thing Zecora had to a meal table – there was not much in the way of seats, forcing Applejack, Rainbow and Agave to content themselves with sitting on the floor.

Neither Willow nor Bumblebee felt much inclined to enter the small hut and, judging by the cool look Willow and Zecora exchanged, something told Applejack the feeling was mutual. Apparently, she didn’t take kindly to being spied upon.

The moment all four were inside and the door firmly latched, Zecora’s mood shifted slightly; not much, but enough for the tension to ease out of her shoulders.

“It is not often that you come looking for me,” Zecora said, sounding friendly enough, if not a little tired from the day’s activities. She made a beeline for the impressive cauldron that dominated the center of the hollowed out tree hut. “May I ask why this would be?”

As she spoke, she carefully unhitched a pair of burlap bags stuffed to the brim with all manner of herbs and roots, and set them down on the floor. To Applejack, the contents looked little more than a hodgepodge of random twigs and leaves, but she knew well enough that that was not the case.

“Yeah,” Rainbow started, looking around. “We were kinda hoping you could help us.”

Zecora nodded to herself; this was not in question. Ponies rarely made it all the way out to her humble hut just for social visits. She sat down, her back to them as she leaned closer to the base of the cauldron.

Out of nowhere, flames burst forth, causing Applejack and Rainbow to jump a foot in the air.

“Of this, there is no doubt,” Zecora said, standing back up. “But I don't know what brought this about.”

This time, Rainbow turned to Applejack, to her displeasure.

“Well, ya see, Zecora,” she started, uncomfortably, “We were kinda hopin’ y’all could tell us where… where we’d find Hyacinth’s place.”

Zecora froze, midstep. Her mouth hung open, halfway through biting down on her saddlebag’s top, but there it stayed for a good long while as Applejack’s words rattled around inside her head.

Then, slowly, she straightened up, and turned a new look on the group, as if really taking them in for the first time. Her eyes drifted over Applejack, as if she could see through her form and to the real thing beneath, before sweeping over to Rainbow… and then settling for a rather long time on Agave, who shrank back behind Rainbow’s tail.

But it wasn’t necessarily Agave her eyes lingered upon, but the distinct, bulging wad of white table cloth wrapped around her midriff, tying something round to her side.

As she looked between them, the weariness seemed to redouble with each pony Zecora glanced towards, culminating in a heavy sigh as she sat down.

“Why?” she asked bluntly, eyes flicking back to Applejack.

Applejack looked back and forth with Rainbow, who only offered a ghost of a smile, and nodded in Zecora’s direction faintly.

Applejack exhaled, feeling an uncomfortable twist in her chest. Then, she shrugged off her pack, stepped forward, and changed.

Zecora didn’t back away in surprise, or hardly react at all to the sudden burst of green fire in her home. Her eyes only squinted reflexively against the glare until it passed.

Her expression didn’t even change when her gaze came to rest on Applejack’s black, leathery face – ruined as it was by a spider web of cracks and hairline fractures. Zecora only surveyed her, her thoughts her own.

When Zecora didn’t respond, Applejack bit her lip. She tried to force herself to stand as straight-backed as possible, but she knew she wasn’t pulling it off as well as she should have.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Zecora turned away. She once more returned to her bags and the steaming cauldron behind her.

“So, it has finally come to this,” she said, speaking as if she were talking to herself. “I should have known that something was amiss.”

Without really paying attention, Zecora scooped up a hoofful of what looked like dead, dried leaves, and began kneading them between her hooves into a fine powder. Once that was completed, she flicked her wrist and sent the green dust sprinkling into the pot, without any immediate reaction from the contents.

Rainbow frowned to herself, but didn’t keep her thoughts private for long. “Do… do you know what’s happening to AJ?”

Zecora glanced back at her, turning away from regarding a collection of strange, polka-dotted flowers she’d laid out on her table. “From what I have learned, I know enough to be concerned,” she said, pulling over a mortar and pestle.

Rainbow and Applejack exchanged a curious look. Zecora knew? But… how?

Applejack took a step closer, her curiosity almost too much to hold back. “Zecora… how did y’all know Hyacinth?”

The zebra paused in her grinding, but did not turn around. She stayed motionless for quite some time, as if lost in thought. “A long time ago, Hyacinth set her sights on me.”

A faint chuckle escaped her lips. “It was but a chance meeting... most unfortunately.”

Zecora turned back around, carrying the mortar with her as she made her way to the cauldron. As she did so, Applejack caught sight of the faint melancholy smile on her face. “When she made her move, I saw through her disguise. And then I gave Hyacinth quite the surprise.”

Zecora dumped the mashed up flower petals into the cauldron, just as the water inside started to ripple from the fire crackling at the pot’s base.

“She was still quite young, but after that she knew, not to be quick to trust a zebra's strange brew.”

She returned to her bag, and hefted two corkscrew-shaped roots, one in each hoof, and proceeded to raise and lower them in midair as if weighing them in her hooves.

She frowned slightly to herself in speculation, licked each in turn, then whacked them together, judging some quality in the sound and heft of each. Apparently satisfied, she picked one of the two, discarding the other into her bag, and carefully lowered her choice into the pot.

Despite her care, the contents of the cauldron hissed and spat, emitting a volatile plume of green fumes into the air.

After that Zecora hesitated, eyes drifting away into empty space. “I started as only a means to an end. But as time went on… I became her friend.”

Rainbow abruptly straightened up, a thought striking her like a lightning bolt. “Wait a minute… does that mean you’re from the south?”

Applejack jolted. She hadn’t even been paying attention to that, but now that Rainbow mentioned it…

“Then… why are y’all in Equestria?” she asked, though somehow she knew it wasn’t because of anything good.

Zecora sighed, stepping away from the cauldron – slower this time. “Zebras believe changelings are forest spirits most dire. When my tribe found out, I was sentenced to the pyre.”

All three gasped, including Agave, who was doing her best to blend in with the background.

Zecora flashed them an understanding smile. “The zebra tribes did not and do not know that not every changeling must be our foe. 
“I tried to explain, to share what I had learned. But their respect, despite this, I had not earned.”


~~***~~


Zecora walked onward, forcing her mind to still, as she was marched to a small hill.

All around her, the faces of those she knew and loved glared pitilessly at her as she was pushed and shoved. They formed two lines, one on each side. When it came to their gazes, there was nowhere to hide.

She forced herself to look forward, to keep her heart from breaking. But no matter what she did, she couldn't stop the aching.

Words were thrown at her, filled with rage, regardless of her youthful age. Zecora sought no sympathy; she knew it was too late. For a long time already, she'd resigned to her fate.

Torches lined the way to her untimely doom; an unlit bonfire, whose flames would be her tomb.

The elder of the tribe grimly led the way. She did not look back to her protege. She’d tried to talk sense into her, but to no avail. So now she had to walk her down this trail.

Zecora turned her eyes up to the sky, taking solace in the bright stars up high. It wasn’t much, but it kept her strong against the words of the hateful throng.

The chanting and shouting was growing louder still, as the progression reached the top of the small hill.

Torches were raised, and Zecora quailed at the sight; she knew it marked the end of her final living night.

Unable to delay it, the elder did turn, forcing herself to now appear much more stern. As she lead the tribe in chanting the young one's final rite, Zecora looked upon her idol, retaining the sight of her former mentor in the night through the flickering firelight.

Then, finally, she let her eyes close, and calmed herself as the chanting rose...

Burn the witch, burn the witch; that was their demand. Burn the witch, burn her to bring peace to the land…

But Zecora held her head high and stood tall; she knew she wasn’t wrong. Wasn't wrong at all. 

She mustered her courage – she would not fear a thing. She could not tremble before whatever fate would bring.

The elder finished, the drumming came to a stop. And Zecora waited for the other horseshoe to drop…

And then there was a bang, louder than any shout, and all at once, every one of the lights went out.

Zecora’s eyes flew open, her heart missing a beat, as a blast of hot air knocked her flat on her seat.

The jungle was now quite dark – the torches snuffed to the last spark. She heard her tribe scream as the elder let out a panicked bark.

The tribe quickly scattered, eager to flee. But Zecora knew not why that would be.

As she looked through the gloom, she saw a shadow loom. She turned to it, expecting the worst… but she did a double-take first.

“Are you alright?” it asked in a blurt. “Please tell me you haven't been hurt?”

Zecora just stared, unable to speak. She saw those blue eyes, and she felt so weak.

“Why… why did you come for me?” she breathed. “I told you to flee…”

“I did,” the shadow said, calm as could be. “However I was told you must go free.”

“I must got free? But why save me?"

The shadow did not answer; she merely turned away… as darkness fell to earth near where Zecora lay.

She turned, her heart threatening to stall, as a towering form stood up tall. Higher and higher did it rise, until it reached the stars and skies.

A long jagged horn, a bushy mane of vivd red; Zecora stared at it all with a feeling of dread. 

She knew about changelings, much more than her tribe’s lore. But this creature, she had never encountered before.

Zecora cowered in terror and awe at the sight, as the changeling queen’s form rose to eclipse the moonlit night.


~~***~~


Applejack stared at Zecora, completely at a loss for words. Beside her, Rainbow and Agave were similarly struck dumb.

“Ma… my mother saved yer life?” Applejack said in a small voice. She coughed, clearing her throat, but those in the room were too transfixed to pay her any heed.

Zecora nodded. “She ordered my rescue personally. But not without a fee.”

She stood over the cauldron, whose contents had reached a frothing boil, filling the hut with a peculiar, earthy smell. She eyed the contents critically, then, with a precise motion, picked up a strip of bark, so blackened it looked like it had been burned, and let it fall into the brew with a wet ker-plop.

Applejack watched as the bark floated for several seconds… and then disintegrated as if eaten away by acid.

The contents of the cauldron churned and fizzed, and then began emitting the most alarming green glow.

Something tickled in Applejack’s forehead, making her rub at it absently. This only served to remind her how numb it felt, filling her with even worse concerns.

“My friendship with Hyacinth had not escaped her gaze,” Zecora said, watching her concoction boil. “She needed our secrets, and so saved me from that blaze.”

“Your secrets?” Rainbow echoed, frowning. “What kind of secrets?”

Zecora lifted a crooked length of wood and dipped it into the cauldron, stirring gently. “My tribe knew the way,” she said softly. “Through mountains of ice, and lands far away.”

Applejack’s eyes widened, her jaw hitting the floor. “Ya mean… y’all showed her the way to Equestria?”

To that, Zecora shook her head. “No. Not even my tribe possessed such a mystical legend. They only knew the secrets of the place known as the World’s End.”

“Sounds… ominous,” mumbled Rainbow.

“I-it is,” whimpered Agave.

Both Rainbow and Applejack turned to her, to find her hiding under a table. “Before Carnation, the name was literal,” she said. “No one ever made it past the mountains. There’s blizzards, and earthquakes, a-and avalanches… it’s stupid to try to cross over them. If the flash freezes don’t get you, the snow monsters will…”

Zecora nodded. “Trying to cross over them is a terrible blunder. The safest way across is not over; it’s under.”

Zecora sighed slightly, her eyes drifting back to her work. “After we made it across, they let me stay. And so here I am to this very day.”

“Wow,” breathed Rainbow. She stared at Zecora like she’d never seen her before.

Zecora looked up, and offered a smile. “Oh, I have certainly come to love this land. I have learned much, and had adventures most grand.”

Then her expression straightened. “But you did not come here to listen to me speak. I must warn you; what you ask is not for the meek.”

Agave chewed her lip. She alone, however, showed any signs of trepidation.

Rainbow just gave her a look. “I don’t know if you noticed, but ‘meek’ isn’t really in our vocabulary.”

Applejack nodded. “Not like we got a choice, either,” she said. “Zecora, y’all knew Hyacinth better than anypony. If anypony had any idea what she or my ma were up to, it’s you. So please… Ah’m askin’ for yer help.”

Rainbow stared, thunderstruck. Applejack was borderline throwing herself on her knees at this point. It twisted her up inside, knowing that if there wasn’t so much pressure on her, it never would have to come to this.

Zecora looked at her, and even if she did not know the farm pony as well as Rainbow did, there was a glimmer of something in her eyes as she studied her.

“I can clearly see that you do indeed mean well,” she commented. “But whether you are ready… is harder to tell.”

Applejack only offered a weak shrug. “I know one way ta find out,” she said.

Zecora glanced at her, then nodded. Without warning, she suddenly produced a heavy bottle-green flask and dipped it carefully into the cauldron, making sure not to get so much as a drop on her.

After filling it almost all the way up to the neck, she reached down into her bag one last time, rummaged about, and pulled out a flake of something – something streaked black and red that sparkled like a gemstone shard. She lifted it up and, without ceremony, dropped it into the bottle.

The light produced by the strange brew surged even brighter for a moment – so bright that everypony except Zecora had to shield their eyes against the glare.

“Finding Hyacinth’s home is no easy task,” she told them, stoppering up the bottle with a cork and holding it out towards the group. “Unless you heed the guiding light of this flask.”

Applejack and Rainbow glanced at each other. Then, the pegasus reached out and took the bottle.

The heat it gave off did not surprise her. The pulsing vibrations, on the other hand, did. They rattled up her foreleg, tickling her shoulders and causing the little hairs at the base of her neck to stand on end.

“That will lead you to its twin,” Zecora said, pointing at the bottle. “It's the only way to find where Hyacinth’s been. It is our own secret recipe, and known only by her and me.”

“Awesome,” Rainbow said, trying to grin – if she wasn’t still disconcerted by the thing throbbing in her hooves. She still eyed it like she half expected it to blow up at any moment.

“Be warned,” Zecora warned suddenly, making the trio freeze, “When you approach, no matter what might occur, tread with utmost care, or you will wake the monster.”

All three had been rousing to head for the door – until she said that. Instead, they stayed rooted to the spot, staring at Zecora with wide eyes. “The what?” echoed Applejack.

Zecora continued on like she didn’t hear them. “It is a creature that protects Hyacinth’s place. Do not rouse it, or its fury you will face.”

“Great,” Rainbow groaned, rolling her eyes. “Don’t wake the sleeping death-beast. Gotcha. Anything else?”

Zecora nodded. “Beware the creature’s spit, or your life will be forfeit.”

Both Applejack and Rainbow paled. This venture was starting to sound worse and worse by the minute.


~~***~~


Willow and Bumblebee both turned as the door of Zecora’s hut creaked open. Bumblebee was first to offer a greeting smile… until she saw how out of sorts the trio that emerged were.

“Um… good news?” she asked hopefully.

Rainbow grimaced at her. “Uh, sure!”

“Well, we have a direction now,” Applejack grunted, hefting her saddlebags back onto her haunches. “So… it’s a start.”

All eyes fell onto the strange, glowing flask in Rainbow’s hooves. Zecora had kindly tied a length of woven vines around it, allowing Rainbow to carry the bottle around her neck. But that didn’t stop her from hefting it and peering into its depths, turning it this way and that in her grip.

“Just how does this thing work, exactly?” she mumbled.

No sooner did she say that than she witnessed something odd. Deep within the bottle, Rainbow could just make out the strange shard Zecora had placed inside. It floated dead center in the solution, not sinking or rising. At first, anyway.

As Rainbow stared at it, the shard suddenly drifted off to one side – off towards the underbrush.

And as it did so, the light glowing from the bottle bent in the opposite direction. Shafts of green drew together, until it had formed a shimmering cone, pointing deeper into the Everfree.

“Whoa,” Rainbow breathed, wide-eyed. “Well… I guess that solves that problem.”

Willow, however, was less enthralled. He followed the shaft of light, a frown on his face. “That… better not be pointing where I think it’s pointing,” he said. “Because we’ve got enough problems without the lot of you running head-first through Murmuring Mire.”

Rainbow gave him a confused look, yet Applejack merely sighed in resignation. “The way this day’s been goin’, Ah’ll settle for that place and not somewhere worse.”

“You’ve got a funny idea of what’s good or bad, Your Highness,” Willow grunted. “With all due respect, I’d encourage you to go around if you can. There are a lot worse things out that way than timber wolves.”

“If we could, we would,” Applejack grumbled. She didn’t look too thrilled, herself. “But if that’s where we gotta go, there ain’t no gettin’ around it.”

Willow sighed, already looking tired. “Well, we’re with you regardless.”

He then unexpectedly lifted his head, turning it to one side, and gave a peculiar squeaking cry. It was strikingly similar to the chirp of a bird – too similar, Applejack noted. And when the forest suddenly echoed the same note back at them from dozens of directions, she couldn’t help but look around at the nearby trees, slightly unsettled.

“Just lead the way, Your Highness,” Willow said. “We’ll –”

A shrill caw ran through the treetops. Once, then several times, all coming from the game trail pointing the way home.

Immediately Willow tensed, his body going ridged, before he whipped his head around sharply in that direction. “Oh brilliant, just what we needed…”

Bumblebee turned to look at him anxiously. “Um… wasn’t that the alarm call you told me to make if I saw any royal guards?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact it was,” Willow growled. “And I’ll give you ten guesses why the lookouts are making it. Care to have a go?”

“Royal guards are coming?”

“Congratulations…”

Rainbow let out an annoyed sound that would've Twilight proud. “Of all the… are these guys going to be on our tail all day?”

Applejack frowned. “Shoot. Ah was really hopin’ Granny would give ‘em the slip. Looks like they really are after us now.”

“Um…,” squeaked Agave. “Shouldn’t we leave? Since, you know… we’re not supposed to be out here.”

“I’m with pipsqueak here,” Willow agreed. “You three, get gone. And take the Spada with you, too, before she makes a real mess of things.”

“The wha—” started Rainbow, only to be interrupted by Willow. “Just go! We’ll buy you some time.”

Applejack and Rainbow both nodded – they had no other choice. “Time to go, Agave,” Rainbow said and, ignoring her squeak, she scooped the filly into her hooves and sped off, eager wings urging her on.

Applejack galloped a few paces, then turned back around. “Y’all take care of yerselves,” she said. “Ah… Ah mean it. Understood?”

Willow grinned, then gave a crisp salute. “Yes ma’am. You can count on us.”

Applejack nodded. “Come on, Bumblebee,” she called, “time ta get scarce.”

“O-on my way!” she babbled, scampering after her… only to pause, turn, and bow to Willow. “Th-thank you for not killing me!”

“Just go!”

“Y-yes sir!”

Willow watched as the group bounded through thick fronds. Within seconds, they’d vanished entirely. He nodded to himself, popped his neck, then turned – just as three armor-clad stallions appeared through the bushes.

The one in the lead had something peculiar in his grip; a jet black rod bearing a sharply angular emerald tip. As they drew closer, the gemstone on the end grew brighter and brighter, and began emitting a high-pitched squeal.

Willow cocked his head to one side, just as all three stallions looked up and fixed him with a cold glare.

“Found one,” one of them growled, brandishing his spear.

“He isn’t wearing a tag, either,” another noted, griping his own spear tighter.

Willow merely glanced between them, looking slightly put off. “Only three of you? I’ve got to say, I’m a bit disappointed.”

That was when the rest of the platoon appeared, pushing through the dense brush side-by-side, bulldozing their way through bushes and tall grass.

There must have been twenty in all – all of them fully armed and ready for battle. Several of them were carrying the same strange dousing rods, all of which were homed in on Willow.

“Ah, that’s better,” he said with a grin. “You had me worried this would be a fair fight.”

The Guard glared at him, spears at the ready. But none advanced.

Willow looked around, a little confused, until the group parted.

And in walked a thin, weasel of a pony. His salmon pink coat was hardly flattering, not with how gaunt he appeared. His muzzle was narrow, the bridge of which bore the signs of being broken at least a few times in his life.

But the most unsettling thing about him was his smile – cold, yet derisive, as if he were fighting back scornful giggles. Dark circles hung under his dull grey eyes like shadows; his oversized helmet hung so low on his brow that his eyes looked sunken and skeletal.

“My oh my, what do we have here?” he purred, looking Willow up and down almost hungrily. “Very odd finding your kind so far out of the district, don’t you think? I was told none of you were supposed to be… out and about.”

“Sorry,” grunted Willow, shrugging. “Must’ve missed the memo.”

The stallion clicked his tongue. “Oh, well isn’t that too bad. But don’t you worry, friend; I’m feeling plenty generous today. I’ll be more than happy to offer you a… crash course education.”

Willow pretended to think about it for a second. “Hmm… as tempting as that sounds, I’m afraid I must pass. Duty calls, you see, and I don’t have much time to dilly-dally with you kind gentlecolts, so…”

He waved a hoof dismissively. “Off you go.”

The while troop of guards hesitated. Most looked completely taken aback by the sheer gall of the lone adversary before them.

The stallion in charge froze, his sneer fixing itself in place. His eyes, however, narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m terribly busy, you see,” Willow explained. “Can’t be bothered to entertain every pony that comes my way. So if you’d be so kind to bug off, I’ll pretend I didn’t see any of you, and we can all go on our merry way, yeah?”

The stallion just stared at him, as if he just couldn’t understand what he was saying. After a moment, he gave a dry chuckle, his grin splitting a little wider. “Ah. I see. You don’t seem to realize what situation you’re in. You seem to be under the impression that you have some say in the matter.”

He raised a hoof, and the platoon tensed for action. “I, Sergeant Willow, vice-captain to Captain Steel Shod of the Ponyville Garrison, hereby place you under arrest. Is that clear enough for you, little changeling?”

The changeling’s eyes went up slight. “Willow, huh? What a coincidence. But, you see, I’m going to have to decline your offer.”

Sergeant Willow grinned wider. “Unfortunately for you, I happen to have several friends who say otherwise.”

Willow the Wasp looked about with a small nod. “Hmm… Hmm… Indeed you do. Sure wish I’d thought to bring back up.”

That was when every tree in the forest began buzzing ominously.

Tracking rods sudden pulled their wielders in every direction – some went left, some went right. One or two went straight up so suddenly they bashed their holders in the nose.

“Oh wait, that’s right,” Willow said with a wicked grin. “I did.”

The Guard sergeant looked around, his eyes wide with shock, and a little fear, as black shapes emerged from trees and bushes on all sides, hissing and spitting and brandishing pointed fangs and horns.

“So,” Willow started, causing the sergeant to snap his attention back to him. “You say your name’s Willow, huh?”

A truly wicked smile spread across his fanged lips at that. “What are the odds…”


~~***~~


Applejack poked her head out through a stand of tall grass, eyes scanning this way and that. A part of her didn’t know what was worse; being hounded so persistently by Steel Shod’s lackeys, or the simple fact that they’d left the trail far, far behind.

Bushwhacking through the Everfree was not very high on her bucket list, truth be told. There was no telling what they’d stumble into wherever the forest was thickest.

She continued to scan around, hoping beyond hope to find some kind of trail just waiting to rescue them. No such luck; only a deadfall of mossy trees and strange mushroom caps big enough to use as an umbrella.

“All clear,” she said, and stepped forward reluctantly. Rainbow and Agave were right behind her, looking around just as warily as she was.

Applejack glanced back at Rainbow, an unspoken question on her face. But Rainbow was too busy tilting Zecora’s mystery flask this way and that, frowning. The light still beamed in a cone straight ahead, heedless of whatever clutter and vegetation was in the way.

“You sure this thing’s working right?” Rainbow asked dubiously.

Applejack huffed, turning away. “Not even a little bit. But Ah know better than ta doubt Zecora, so… only thing ta do is keep forgin’ ahead.”

“I… was afraid you’d say that,” Rainbow mumbled. A split second later, she added quickly, “Not that I’m afraid or anything. Pfft, who said I was afraid?”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

“… Cuz I’m not.”

Applejack huffed, turning away. “Alright, alright. Let’s just keep goin’, before the Guard catches up.”

Bumblebee looked at her, looking slightly panicked. “Y-you don’t think they’ll hurt Willow, do you?”

When Applejack turned towards her, she was surprised to find Agave seated uncertainly on her back, like she hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. At the same time, Bumblebee didn’t seem to notice her passenger, besides using her wings to brace the filly’s legs.

Applejack opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d like to say they wouldn’t… but she wasn’t feeling that optimistic. “Don’t you worry about him,” she said with the best reassuring smile she could. “He’ll look after himself.”

As she said it, she saw Rainbow turn towards her out of the corner of her eye, a meaningful look in her glower. “And what happens if they catch up to us,” she pointed out.

Applejack pursed her lips. That was something she didn’t want to consider. “We’ll… just have ta cross that bridge when we get to it,” she mumbled. “If we do.”

Rainbow looked like she was about to argue – when she flew headlong into something that clunked against her head like glass. That kind of cut her off.

“What in the…?” Rainbow yelped, rubbing her forehead before staring daggers at the thing that she’d flown into… only for her eyes to shoot open wide.

Before her stood a tree made entirely of chocolate diamond. Branches sprawled overhead – branches filled with glittering emeralds in the shapes of leaves.

The whole group stared at the tree in wonder, perplexed by its very existence… until they spotted more.

Here and there, all along the forest floor, stood crystalline shapes. A jagged stump of brown quartz, a pond of sapphire… and at least two pink-colored crystals in the disturbing shape of fleeing deer.

Most of the improbable formations were smashed or damaged in some way; most were in pieces, shattered as if by a great fist. And yet, there didn’t seem to be all that much crystalline debris littering the forest floor. But trees shouldn’t be missing their entire top halves, or have crescent gouges carved through their boughs.

The group followed the progression through the forest, and the more they looked, the more signs of devastation they found. What trees hadn’t been crystalized had been tossed aside, roots and all. Bushes had been squashed flat, their stems split down the middle.

The entire stretch of forest floor in front of them bore just the faintest trace of being gouged out, as if something of truly immense proportions had bulldozed its own path through the forest. Mosses and ferns had grown in to fill the gap, and most of the inexplicable gemstones were covered in encroaching vines and other creeping plant life.

But it did not hide the trail that ran perpendicular across Applejack’s field of vision… or the massive craters in the ominous shapes of massive clawed feet, only partially filled in by lichen.

“Well… Gotta say… this is a new one,” Applejack mumbled, her eyes tracing the shafts of iridescent light streaming in through the gemstone canopy overhead.

“I’ll say,” Rainbow said back, looking around. “Heh… Rarity would lose her mind out here.”

“Yeah, but…,” mumbled Bumblebee anxiously, “what made it?”

Applejack shook her head, suppressing a shiver. “Ah don’t know, and Ah don’t care ta know. By the looks of it, whatever did this is long gone. So let’s just keep goin’ that way” – she pointed into the underbrush on the other side – “ and never find out.”

That was when Rainbow raised her voice again, and no one could have missed the anxiety in her voice, either. “Uh… about that…”

Dread crept into Applejack’s chest, but she still forced herself to turn and look at Rainbow. And the flask she was holding, beaming quite insistently – straight in the one direction Applejack didn’t want it to.

Rainbow merely looked at her, chuckling nervously. “Heheh… heh…”

…

Applejack gave the only response she could.

“Ponyfeathers…”

 
	
> Chapter 11: Murmuring Mire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roseluck lay listlessly on a bench, swinging her hind leg in much the same way. Her hoof barely grazed the tops of grass blades, the sensation soothing to her absent senses. At the moment, she could use a little soothing.

A lot plagued her mind – too much to allow her to remain cooped up in that office of hers, surrounded by tools of authority she could not use. Even though the whole idea of being in charge of anything larger than a small town florist shop was still in and over itself a novelty, she’d nevertheless grown accustomed to her responsibilities and obligations. Having them stripped from her almost in totality overnight was just as big a system shock as when she’d taken up the position in the first place.

She could not send reports, could not organize or consolidate to any great effect – she couldn’t even send a letter and expect it to make it beyond the district’s walls. Nothing got out without being picked apart as some suspected secret communique, no matter how benign it might be.

It was frustrating, knowing in particular that Applejack was out there where she couldn’t be reached, and undoubtedly where she’d need help the most. But even just that one trip beyond the district may have been too bold a move…

Roseluck sighed and set her head down on her hooves. Too much worried her. Too much stressed her. At times like this, she would turn to her family – Daisy and Lily. But that was not an option, not with Steel Shod’s grip over the district so ironclad.

In the same way nothing was going out, nothing was coming in. Distance was not an appreciable factor in harnessing love, not when the distance only encompassed a village. But that did not stop the heart from yearning for closer contact regardless. Some changelings were… calculating… enough to boil it down to purely logical facts, that they didn't need face to face interaction for survival. But Roseluck was too much a pony at heart to see it that way.

Daisy and Lily… She let her mind wander in their direction. In a way, it was the lesser of two evils. Daisy and Lily weren’t in life-threatening situations. It was worrying still, but at least she didn’t feel like she was going to pull her mane out over it.

She wondered idly if they’d gotten that shipment of Mellow Mallow seeds yet. It’d been all Lily could talk about for weeks; according to her, only a few places in Equestria grew them for sale. Just one crop could really bring in the bits.

Speaking of which, she hoped Daisy had remembered to balance their books. Roseluck was supposed to do it today, but for obvious reasons that simply wasn’t to be. Businesses involving changelings were always under close scrutiny; the sooner that was done, the better for everypony involved.

Was the jasmine growing right? They’d need watered today… Lily was usually on top of that, though. She loved those budding plants like her own children sometimes. The store would need some more fertilizer soon, however. Hopefully the shops in Ponyville weren’t as restrained by Steel Shod’s lockdown…

A sound caught Roseluck’s attention, snapping her back to reality.

She looked up, refocusing her eyes – on a glass being offer to her by a holey hoof. Inside was a semi-clear yellow beverage, still swirling with lemon pulp and two disintegrating ice cubes.

A drone stood in front of her with a goofy smile, like a puppy awaiting praise.

Roseluck let the tension roll off of her, and she smiled, sat up, and took the offered cup. “Thank you, Derpy,” she said.

The drone beamed still wider, then pranced away, humming to herself, ever the enigma.

Does that pony have a worry-bone in her body…?

She sighed, tossing it aside, and glanced down towards the gift. She took a sip, and almost immediately winced. Way too much sugar for her taste. She was more of an ice tea kind of gal.

Still, the chilled drink cooled her tongue and throat, and despite the sweet-splosion that assaulted her taste buds with every drop, it was still refreshing in its own way.

And at the moment, she could use a little refreshment…

“Miss Roseluck?”

She looked up, just as a drone set himself down on the grass in front of her. There was a slight frown on his face; a tone of edginess that immediately sank Roseluck’s heart just a little lower.

“Miss Roseluck?” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up. Duty called…

The drone looked over his shoulder, ears up and at attention, as if keenly listening for something. Then he glanced back. “Uh… Captain Steel Shod would like a word.”

Roseluck sighed. She spared her half-finished lemonade a disappointed look that it probably didn’t deserve, having already numbed her tongue, then set it down on the bench. 

Worries upon worries…


~~***~~


Roseluck followed the drone through the narrow streets. Along the way, she noticed the many changelings peeking out through windows and hollows, watching her pass.

Very few were actually out and about, and those that were in the open kept a watchful eye over everything from lofty perches, their heads on a swivel at all times. By and large, however, none were making any sound whatsoever. A pin could have dropped – on grass – and it would have made more noise.

Everywhere Roseluck looked, changelings looked back; questioning, curious. A few younglings peeked nervously over the sides of their parents, wings flicking.

But none followed her; they kept to their private hovels, as if taking shelter from non-existent rain.

She realized that many were probably just like her; thoughts drifting beyond the closed boundaries of the district, worrying over loved ones they could not see. Listless, on edge, but helpless at the same time.

The closer Roseluck got to the edge of the district, however, the thinner the population became. One by one, the number of blue eyes turning to her as she approached dwindled, until all she found were empty treehouses and abandoned streets. The only sound to be heard was a weak, moaning wind whistling through the trees.

That was when she found them. She rounded one last corner, her eyes falling on the archway of woven aspen trees marking the main gate in and out, only to find it crowded with royal guards.

There were at least six – three to a side – including an honor guard brandishing Equestrian banners, and judging by the rivet-studded barricades wedged in and around the archway, they’d made themselves quite at home. 

At their head stood Steel Shod, who looked fit for waging war instead of making house calls. He was fully clad in armor, from his hooves to his head; he hadn’t even removed his helmet. Obviously he wasn’t here for a social visit, and he wasn’t planning on staying long.

At least he hadn’t drawn his weapon, but the heavy metal spear shaft hung from his side, cradled in a sheath where he could very easily bring it to bear in the blink of an eye.

The hard look he was giving Roseluck immediately made her quail inside, because a part of her knew exactly why the good captain had summoned her all the way out here. But she steeled her nerves; if Applejack could stand toe to toe with him, she could, too.

“Captain Steel Shod,” Roseluck greeted. She even managed a businessmare’s smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Steel Shod was unmoved. “Perhaps you can tell me,” he said. “That’s close enough,” he added, sharper this time.

Both Roseluck and her accompanying drone immediately skittered to a halt. There was still plenty of distance between both groups, enough to force both to talk in slightly raised voices just to be heard. In a way, the distance was a boon; Roseluck doubted she could maintain her composure if she was forced to stand within striking distance of the muscle-bound guard captain.

“I’ll keep this simple, Roseluck,” Steel Shod said tersely. “Where is Applejack?”

She cursed internally. She knew it… something had given them away. A sensor spell of some kind, a scout; who could say. She wouldn’t put it past Steel Shod to have blanketed the whole district in a latticework of magical snitches just waiting for the slightest hint of changeling magic to cross it.

Obviously Steel Shod thought he had enough proof to throw some kind of accusation around, or else he wouldn’t be here in the first place. On the bright side, it also meant he didn’t have anything concrete, or else he wouldn’t even be bothering with such a question. And that told Roseluck she still had room to maneuver.

“Why the sudden interest?” Roseluck countered smoothly.

Steel Shod didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not in the mood for games. I know someone left the district this morning. Already I’ve gotten half a dozen reports of positive detections near and around Sweet Apple Acres from patrols who are, as we speak, in hot pursuit of someone entering the Everfree Forest. So… where is she?”

Roseluck kept her head up. She had to keep her wits about her. Steel Shod was too… focused a pony to divert, but she had to do something.

It didn’t take her long to come up with a little ammunition, however.

“I wasn’t aware that the Everfree fell into your jurisdiction,” she responded coolly. “If I remember correctly, your orders were only to secure Ponyville, and nothing more. Don’t tell me you’ve been overstepping your bounds, Captain.”

Predictably, Steel Shod leveled an unamused glower at her, but she didn’t waver. 

“As to your inquiry, I’m afraid Applejack is unavailable right now,” she said, forcing herself to meet that withering look. “I’m sure the princesses already briefed you on her… condition. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not have your troops stomping through my district.”

The drone beside her let out a barely restrained whine through closed lips, looking like he was about to have a panic attack. His eyes never left the formidable group of stallions, every muscle in his body tense, legs trembling slightly.

Roseluck glanced at him, then back to Steel Shod meaningfully. “I’m sure you understand.”

Steel Shod looked the stressed drone over mutely, then flicked his eyes back towards Roseluck. 

For a moment, she held her breath, praying for some kind of miracle. But the seconds dragged out, and Steel Shod showed no signs of backing down.

“You know, I’ve learned a great deal about changelings in these past few months,” he growled. “I’ve interrogated several of your kind while stationed near the border; enough to pick up on some of your habits.”

He glared at Roseluck; a look so hard and cold it had her shivering. “Your kind tries to avoid outright lying. You avoid answering difficult questions altogether and skirt around the issue at hoof. I don’t know if it’s pride or vanity that makes you do it, and I don’t much care. What I do care about is that right now you’re avoiding my question. Which tells me you have reason to lie to my face.”

Roseluck was glad she was in her pony form; the fur kept the beads of sweat on her brow from being seen.

“That tells me several things,” Steel Shod went on. “You don’t want me to know where Applejack is. And that’s a problem. Because if I find her breaking the lockdown, not even the Princesses can deny her crime. She will face justice. Her, or her accomplices.”

Roseluck fought down her nerves. She had to stay composed; she refused to give Steel Shod the pleasure of seeing her squirm. She forced herself to meet those eyes, and stand as tall as she could.

“My dear captain, I’d watch what you say if I were you,” she said, sounding borderline casual. “We wouldn’t want your words to actually be construed as a threat, now would we?”

Steel Shod glared back, but did not respond. “You have until noon,” he said shortly. “I’m sure I can work out the paperwork by then. Then, cooperation or no, I will be back for answers. That is, if Applejack doesn’t turn up elsewhere first.”

With that, he pulled an about-face, and swept away with his honor guard right on his heels.

It wasn’t until he’d rounded a distant corner down the road, and after Roseluck had retreated out of sight of the guarded entrance that she reminded herself to breathe.

“W-what are we going to do?” hissed the drone at her side, looking only half as panicked as she felt. “If Applejack gets caught and sent to the dungeons, there’s no way she’ll get out again before… before…”

“I know,” Roseluck said, feigning calmness quite expertly. “I know. We’ll just have to have faith in Her Highness. It’s… the best we can do right now.”

The drone glanced sideways at her. It was clear enough just by looking at him that he wasn’t contented with that response. “There’s plenty we can do…”

He instantly wilted under the look Roseluck shot him. “Not if we want to keep this entire situation from getting worse. We play by the ponies’ rules. The moment we don’t, we’ll give Steel Shod everything he needs to run us right out of Equestria. And we both know who’ll be waiting for us there.”

The drone shivered. He struggled to keep his features neutral, but he was still easy to read regardless. Compared to the Court, Steel Shod was hardly more than a stubborn social worker, and they both knew it.

But even so, Roseluck was finding it very difficult to see the silver lining in their situation anymore. Please hurry Applejack…


~~***~~


As the two contentious parties went their separate ways, they were unaware of a set of eyes and ears trained in their direction. Not from the forested district, either.

One purple eye watched from just around the corner of a nearby thatched roof cottage, well within earshot of the loudmouth individuals. But of all the things said, only one thing caught her attention.

“So… she went to the Everfree after all,” she said to herself. “Well… that makes things easier.”

The guards stationed around the main entrance jumped nearly a foot in the air as a sound like a thunderclap rent the air. The only evidence of its source, a streak of blue shooting high into the sky above, and out of sight.


~~***~~


With a grunt, Applejack slid down a shallow, muddy wash and landed on the trunk of a downed, mossy tree. Another hop, and she thudded to the spongy ground below on all fours.

Up ahead, Rainbow looked back at her. Zecora’s flask swung around her neck, its ray of light beaming still further into the forest. “You doing alright, AJ?”

Applejack straightened up. “Ain’t the worst trek Ah’ve ever been on,” she commented dryly. “Ain’t the best, neither.”

Rainbow pursed her lips for a moment, waffling on what to say next. They’d been making good time for nearly half an hour now, non-stop, and through some pretty nasty underbrush, too. Well, Applejack had, anyway. Rainbow had had the luxury of just flying right over the tangles of brambles and deadfalls and a whole slew of other things that’d gotten in their way.

Well… technically Applejack had that luxury, too, but did she use it? Of course not. She’d been hiking for miles on her hooves without so much as a complaint, just like usual. Over rocks, under fallen trees, through tightly packed ravines, over hills, never stopping, never slowing. For hours.

And, well, Rainbow was all-too aware that her friend wasn’t in perfect condition, either.

Rainbow continued to cast around for what to do… until she found the perfect patsy.

“Hey Bumblebee!” she called, causing the drone to jolt to a stop at the top of the slippery slope Applejack had just slid down.

Agave was on her back again, giving her hooves and wings a rest. And yet, Bumblebee barely seemed hampered, not even with the heavy orb that was still tied to Agave’s side.

“Um… yes?” she spoke up tentatively.

“You’re looking tired,” Rainbow observed. “Wanna take a break?”

Bumblebee blinked her big luminescent eyes, expression blank. “Uh… n-no, I think I –”

“Great!” Rainbow cut across loudly, plopping down to the ground without any further ado. “Take five, people!”

Bumblebee gave Applejack a fretful look, which she just returned with a shrug. Rainbow was being Rainbow again…

Still, the log she found sure felt good to sit on.

Applejack dropped her saddlebags, stifling her sigh of relief at having their weight off her flanks. She wasn’t about to telegraph how much her back ached, or her legs burned.

This couldn’t be her limit… She’d walked much further than this before – uphill, dragging a petrified Fluttershy to face her scaly, fire-breathing fears, just to name one occasion. Now all she had to carry was a little, rinky-dink pack stuffed with the essentials, and that was almost too much for her?

She frowned to herself, but ignored it. She was just a little out of sorts. She could still handle herself just fine.

She took off her hat and fanned herself with it. It wafted the salty scent of sweat back at her. That, she blamed on the heat.

The trees were starting to break up all around them, and that meant the invasive and oppressive summer siege was back on. Sunlight found its way to the ground through the towering stands of trees, cutting slanted pillars of light all the way down to the forest floor. And where the sun went, the sweltering heat followed.

The air was heavy and muggy with humidity, and it only got worse the further they went. Each breath was like a gulp of hot, steamy water already, and for once, she really didn’t appreciate all the hair covering her body.

The chirping of birds had very quickly been replaced with the incessant buzz of gnats and mosquitos in Applejack’s ear, which was infinitely more infuriating. Her ears had been flicking away the nuisances so much she was starting to worry about developing a permanent twitch.

Frogs croaked and chirped from virtually every direction, creating a riotous din that rang through the trees far and wide. Most, Applejack recognized. Too many she didn’t.

But the thing Applejack noticed the most as she dug around in her saddlebags for a water canteen was how brown everything was becoming.

Gone were the vibrant flowers of the Everfree. That should be a relief, but it was like trading one worry for another.

Here, everything was ugly, grubby and, more often than not, covered in wicked spines. Tough, rubbery fronds covered in serrated edges littered the forest now, filling the air overhead and occasionally dumping a heavy dollop of collected moisture upon unsuspecting heads below. It was like the forest was perpetually raining; droplets were constantly coming down. The humidity and condensation in the air was truly something else.

Here and there Applejack spotted wiry trees covered in skewer-like thorns as long as her foreleg in some places. They were oddly kinked and jagged, like nature was trying to imitate lightning bolts. So far they were sparse in number, but the further they went, the more they appeared. And those thorns truly were unsettling to look at.

Here and there, lily pads as wide as ponies speckled the floor, topped by long, fleshy stamen swarming with all sorts of buzzy insects. They were the only real source of color in eye sight; a vivid red so bright it seemed like living neon.

It’d been all the group could do to keep Agave away from those things. Of course, when one folded itself in half, spines curling inwards, and snapped at her, Agave refused to wander more than ten feet in one’s general direction from then on.

Trees hung heavy with thick mats of moss. Knee-deep piles of rotting plant matter sat lumped up around the trunks of trees. And everywhere they went, the smell of stagnant water and decay only grew stronger as the presence of cattails grew.

It was hard to believe they were even still in the Everfree…

“So,” started Rainbow abruptly, making Applejack jump. She hadn’t realized she’d been sitting next to her.

Rainbow was looking up and around as well, taking in the shift in scenery passively. “This the place?” she asked, almost casually, like she was trying to strike up a simple conversation.

Applejack huffed, cramming her hat back on her head. “Sure is. Murmurin’ Mire. We’re only right on the edge of the mire proper, but it ain’t gonna get prettier.”

Rainbow turned towards Applejack then, giving her a confused look. “You sure seem to know a lot about it.”

Applejack shrugged. “Well, it ain’t much of a story. Winona wandered off the farm a long time ago and Ah came lookin’ for her. Ended up not far from here before Ah found her, chasin’ some dang chipmunk ‘round a tree.”

Rainbow snickered. Applejack gave her a sidelong look, and she couldn’t help but crack a grin, herself. “Ah don’t know who made pa madder; Winona or me. Ain’t been back since, not after that tannin’.”

Applejack cast her eyes across the sepia marsh, the grin sliding from her face. “It sure is an easy place ta hide somethin’,” she said quietly. “Don’t even think the Timber Wolves come out here. It makes me wonder why no one thought ta look out this way.”

Rainbow didn’t respond, but she watched Applejack carefully. Out here was a part of Applejack’s life that, quite frankly, not even Applejack understood. And for some reason, that made her very uneasy. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t care to. But it bothered her nonetheless.

The pair fell silent for a time, privately resting aching muscles and hooves. Not far away, Agave was inspecting that strange Corastone. She didn’t unwrap it fully, just enough to look at one of its hemispheres and frown. Even then, Applejack could see the rhythmic pulse of light flash weakly against Agave’s fuzzy grey belly.

Bumblebee, for whatever reason, was watching a nearby lily pad, blue eyes fixed on the buzzing cloud swarming the stamen. At one point, she cocked her head to one side, as if listening to something, then straightened up again.

Applejack found herself watching this behavior idly, until Rainbow unexpectedly broke the silence.

“Just out of curiosity,” she started, “What do you think the Court would get from causing… all this.” She finished by waving her hooves in every which direction.

Applejack blinked at her. That had come out of nowhere. “What brought that on?” she asked.

Rainbow ruffled her feathers. “It’s… it’s just something Queen Acornima –”

“Aconita,” Bumblebee corrected.

“Whatever,” Rainbow dismissed, “It’s just something she said. It was… kinda weird.”

She ruffled her mane. “I don’t know… it seemed important to her.”

At the mention of Aconita’s name, Agave snapped back to reality and looked up. “What did she say?” she asked.

Rainbow shrugged. “She just asked me what the Court would gain from war with Equestria. The strange thing was, I think she wanted me to answer.”

Applejack frowned. “That is a weird question. Then again, everythin’ the Court’s doin’ doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

She glanced up at Rainbow, her emerald eyes flashing. “Ah know Ah ain’t much of a changelin’, but Ah know enough ta know that changelin’s don’t make obvious moves unless they know for sure they’re gonna come out on top.”

Rainbow scoffed. “Yeah, fat lot of good that did Vigil.”

Applejack ignored her. “If the Court had this whole thing in the bag… why haven’t they done anything since? For that matter, how do they even have drones in Equestria? One or two drones slippin’ through is one thing, but enough ta cause a real ruckus? Well Ah just can’t see that bein’ the case. But the Court must have some sorta presence here, or else we wouldn’t be hearin’ from them at all.” She sighed and slumped lower. “Huuuh… It just don’t make any sense…”

Rainbow gave her another careful look. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

Applejack huffed and straigtened up. “’Course Ah have. As far as Ah know, the Court don’t stand ta gain anythin’ from instigatin’ a war with Equestria. But that’s exactly what they’re tryin’ ta do. So unless they’re just tryin’ ta be pests, there must be somethin’ we’re missin’.”

She frowned to herself for a moment, then turned to look at Agave. “She’s yer mother,” Applejack pointed out. “Got any ideas on what she’d mean?”

Agave frowned to herself. There was a disquieted look on her face, like she really didn’t like picking apart her mother’s actions. “Well… whenever Mother asks questions like that, a lot of times the answer is so obvious nopony sees it. She does it just to see how smart you are.”

Rainbow frowned deeper at that. “Yeah, well, it was a stupid question anyway.”

Agave fidgeted on the spot, chewing her lip. She glanced over her shoulder, as if half expecting to see a pair of icy blue eyes staring through the underbrush back at her. “I… I don’t want to talk about her right now. Can we talk about something else?”

Applejack caught Rainbow’s eye, who could only shrug. She started to open her mouth to say something – when all of a sudden Bumblebee shot up onto all fours, ears alert, body tense.

“Somepony’s coming!” she hissed.

Applejack tensed, straining her ears… but heard nothing. “Uh… Ya sure?”

Bumblebee's response was to suddenly whirled around, and without another word, tackle both Rainbow and Applejack right off the log they’d been sitting on.

A split second later, her head snapped up, clamped down on Agave’s tail, and yanked her down as well.

All four ended up in a heap in a depression behind the log; a drop of about three feet. To Applejack's poor back, it felt further. Cattails towered all around, and judging by the cold wetness soaking Applejack’s tail, they weren’t far from standing water.

But Applejack was currently more preoccupied with the drone sitting on top of her. At least Rainbow had broken her fall.

“Ow…”

“Bumblebee,” Applejack growled reproachfully, “what in tarnation –”

A hoof pushed hastily against her mouth, silencing her. “Sorrysorrysorry,” Bumblebee squeaked quietly, urgently. “Please be quiet, Your Highness.”

She glanced up, peering through a thin gap between the warped log and an eroded lip in the earth. “The frogs,” she whispered. “Something made the frogs go quiet…”

Applejack paused, listening intently. To her surprise, Bumblebee was right. It wasn’t a new sound she should’ve been listening for; it was an advancing lack of sound that she should have noticed.

Carefully, Applejack rose up, allowing an irritable Rainbow to pick herself off the squelching earth and stand shoulder to shoulder with the other two. They looked out through the tiny space afforded to them, eyes scanning the small stretch of wilderness they could see.

At first, nothing. But Applejack kept listening, and the more she listened, the more she noticed the croaking in the air softening as frogs and toads fell silent. Small groups ceased their serenading. Then another, followed by another. Worse, it seemed to be drawing closer.

Then, without warning, the brush across from them shook – and an armored head pushed into view.

The stallion’s golden helmet was unmistakable. And he wasn’t alone, either; six others moved with him in loose formation, fanning out across the mire. Despite their heavyset frames, they made alarmingly little noise; only the occasional rustle of underbrush gave them away.

“I heard it around here,” one of them said, and Applejack jumped. The speaker was right there, suddenly appearing right where the group had been a few seconds prior. His armored hoof came down just on the other side of the log, blocking most of their view with golden plates.

All Applejack could see of him was his thick foreleg… and the saddlebags still resting against a twisted branch, right where Applejack had left them.

Applejack stared at it, hard. She knew Rainbow must’ve been, too. All the guard had to do was shift to one side a few inches, and he’d bump into it. How he hadn’t seen it, Applejack would never know, but she wasn’t going to bet on that lasting.

“Look around,” somepony else grunted. “They must be around here somewhere.”

“Willow…,” Bumblebee whimpered quietly. “D-did they do something to… to…?”

Applejack didn’t have an answer for that. That was a question that was going to have to wait, however.

“Fan out,” the dangerously close stallion growled. “Find them.”

A hoof hit the top of the log.

Rainbow tensed, coiling her legs for action. Applejack readied herself, jaw set. Agave cowered into Bumblebee’s side.

Bumblebee was motionless. Utterly, totally motionless. She wasn’t even looking up towards the top of the log like everypony else. It was like she hadn’t even noticed anything.

Crack!

With a muttered curse, the stallion whirled around a full hundred eighty degrees, facing into the forest. His hoof vanished from overhead, much to the relief of four cowering mares.

Applejack had heard the sound. It sounded like a branch snapping somewhere in the distance.

“What was that?” the stallion barked.

“It came from over there,” another shot back.

And then… they were gone.

Applejack peeked up again, craning her neck to look through the gap afford to her.

The stallions were all moving off, slipping through the bog just as silently as ever. Applejack could see their golden helmets as they passed through cattails and fronds.

“Whew,” she sighed, collapsing slightly into the dirt. “That was too close.”

“These guys have the worst timing,” Rainbow complained in an undertone. “Can’t we just kick their butts already?”

“What would that get done?” Applejack hissed back. “Besides gettin’ us in a whole heap more trouble than we’d already be in. If Steel Shod learns we whooped his men, he'd come after us faster than a cat with its tail on fire.”

“Well it’d make me feel better,” grumbled Rainbow.

“No,” Applejack whispered flatly.

Rainbow fell quiet, in the same way a filly fell quiet when they were pouting. Applejack ignored her, and instead returned to watching the stallions moving around the forest outside. They were just visible, the golden glints off their helmets giving their positions away through the matted underbrush.

Something was nagged at her as she watched them. Something was just… off about them. It wasn’t that they didn’t move in proper formation – in the bog, such a thing just wouldn’t be possible. Was it their uniforms? No, they were standard; nothing out of the ordinary. They certainly were far from civilization, but that couldn’t be it by itself. Then what was it…?

“They aren’t even armed,” Rainbow complained, keeping her voice down at least. “Come on, we could totally take ‘em.”

That was it.

Applejack jolted when she finally noticed what was so off. None of the stallions were carrying spears.

“Why aren’t they carryin’ weapons?” Applejack asked aloud.

“How should I know,” Rainbow murmured grumpily.

“This far in the Everfree, and they don’t have anythin’ ta protect themselves with.”

Now Rainbow caught on to Applejack’s tone. She turned to look at her, confusion warring with irritability in her face. “Yeah, so?”

“Why in tarnation would they not have weapons?” Applejack whispered pressingly, peering at the group. “Steel Shod ain’t stupid enough ta send this many ponies into the Everfree unarmed. And look; they ain’t even unicorns. Somethin’ ain’t right here.”

She continued to watch the group, Rainbow at her side now. They watched as two came back into full view, eyes sweeping critically around.

“I know their tracks came this far,” one growled, his head low and menacing.

“They can’t be far,” agreed the other, peering the other way. Without looking, he turned – and collided with his comrade’s shoulder.

The other staggered slightly, curled his lip on reflex… and hissed threateningly. Not a pony hiss, either; it was almost feral, and immediately it had the stumbling stallion backing away. “Watch it,” he snapped.

Whatever the offending party’s response was, Applejack didn’t hear it. Her eyes had gone wide as the final piece slammed into place.

They weren’t guards at all. They weren't even ponies.

Apparently Rainbow reached the same conclusion at the same time, because she suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. “Not this again…”

Applejack scowled as well. “Well shoot… Guess that answers that question…”

Rainbow turned to look at her meaningfully. “Can I beat them up now?”

But Applejack wasn’t listening. “How in tarnation did they give Willow’s folks the slip?” she wondered quietly. “And how’d they even get here?”

Bumblebee turned to look at her then. “Didn’t Willow say they avoided the Guard?”

Applejack had to suppress a groan. “Well that’s just great… Now there’s no tellin’ how much these goons are bunkered down here.”

“Are you telling me there could be a whole army out here and nopony would know?” Rainbow said, eyes wide with shock.

Bumblebee shook her head. “No… just enough to avoid suspicion. So, a dozen or so… probably.”

Rainbow frowned, glaring out into the infested forest. “Well, I guess we know where Queen Aconita ran off to.”

Applejack gave her a look. “Queen Aconita?”

Rainbow leaned in closer. “Who else would these drones belong to?”

“Queen Lucani, Queen Cerbera, Queen Vespa,” Bumblebee rattled off. “Queen Chrysalis…”

She fell quiet under the irritated look Rainbow gave her. Then she returned her focus back to Applejack. “Okay, besides them. It has to be Queen Aconita. She’s the only queen in Equestria –”

“That we know of,” mumbled Bumblebee dourly.

“The only queen,” Rainbow hissed forcefully. “She has to be the one that attacked Ponyville. It makes sense she’d be out here, too.”

“No it doesn’t.”

Everypony turned towards Agave, who’d wormed her way underneath a tangle of roots left exposed to the open air from the tree beside their hiding spot.

“Mother wouldn’t attack Ponyville like that,” she said simply. “She’s not that direct, and she wouldn't stay where she'd be found easily.”

“Then who?” Rainbow challenged.

“Queen Belladonna, Queen Nephila…” mumbled Bumblebee.

“Who else?”

…

“… Queen Solifuge…”

…

“You finished?”

“Uh-huh…”

Rainbow narrowed her eyes, then turned towards the gap, eyeing it critically. “Look, we can either sit here and talk about it, or we can actually do something about it. Do I need to tell you my vote?”

Applejack glanced through the opening. She counted only seven, but her field of vision was rather limited. “Hang on now, sugarcube. We don’t know how many of ‘em there actually are.”

Rainbow groaned, face-planting in the dirt. “Ugh…”

“Think about it,” Applejack pressed, arching an eyebrow. “They’re lookin’ for us. A pegasus, a drone, and two queens.”

Rainbow paused to consider that. “Well… Maybe they’re gonna try to trick us or something into letting our guard down, like they've done before.”

“… As Royal Guard.”

She scowled at Applejack. “Hey, I didn’t say they were smart.”

Applejack shook her head, then returned her focus to the hostile group moving just a few feet away. “The best thing we can do is try ta slip past ‘em. Without drawin’ attention to ourselves.”

Rainbow pulled a face; the kind she reserved for only a few occasions. Like bed rest, or frilly things. It was clear she wasn’t happy with that option, but Applejack did have a point. It was understandable that the Court would underestimate pegasi, unicorns and earth ponies; they were nothing but resources to them. But there was no way they wouldn't know what they were getting into with a fellow queen. Even Vigil had had enough sense to try to wear Applejack down with a puppet army.

“We’re just goin’ ta wait for an openin’,” Applejack whispered steadily, watching the stallions sniff the air. “Just gonna wait, and…”

Crack!

Another branch snapped in the distance. This time, however, the two fake ponies only turned their heads in annoyance, not budging an inch. “Private, what the heck is going on over there?” one of them shouted, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Nothing.

“Did you hear me, private?” one of the drones barked, turning menacingly in the direction of that noise. No one was responding; only the frogs serenaded the air.

The frogs…

In the same moment Applejack cocked her head to listen, Bumblebee was suddenly tugging fearfully on her shoulder, whining quietly.

The frogs were falling silent again. Not just a few though…

A huge wall of silence rolled towards them like an inverse breeze. Frogs, birds, all sounds hushed one by one… as the ground quaked.

Up above, the stallions tensed, freezing in place. “What was that?” one asked.

Applejack caught Bumblebee’s terrified gaze. She was mouthing something at her – a two syllable word, over and over. But she was so scared she couldn’t put her voice to it.

That was when a sound cut through the trees. A low, carrying sound, like a rumbling groan.

Applejack glanced up at the pathway on the other side of the log – and the stallions were gone without a trace. She tensed, head and eyes whipping this way and that, half expecting to find them bearing down on her. But they were gone.

Thud…

Something heavy collided with the ground. Something that was toppling trees and flattening bushes.

It was as if all of a sudden, something gigantic had materialized right on top of them. Branches snapped. Heavy trees crashed to the ground. And under it all, Applejack heard the most alarming, most blood-curdling growl she’d ever heard before in her life.

It was guttural, like the exhaust of some great engine. And it was so high above them…

Applejack tilted her head upwards, around the brim of her hat, just as a massive tail swung over their heads.

It was covered in jagged scales – two toned red on the bottom and black on the top. They glinted and gleamed like polished stones, outlining the iron-hard bands of muscle flexing with each movement.

Right on the end were five overlapping boney kernels, like the rattle of an incredibly oversized rattlesnake. It shook and twitched spastically, producing a horrible chatter like clinking bones, before whipping out of sight with astonishing speed.

Applejack twisted back around, staring through the hole under the log – right as a massive claw thundered to the ground outside.

All four of them felt the earth shake with the impact. All Applejack could see was two thickset toes covered in plated scales, squelching deep into the soft ground.

The creature paused. The growling ceased, and an odd flapping sound reached Applejack’s ears. Flicking… flicking…

The ground began to darken as a shadow grew deeper. The flicking sound came lower, lower to the ground.

Somepony was clutching at Applejack’s shoulder. She ignored it, pulling away, but the hoof was insistent.

“The bottle,” hissed a voice beside her.

Applejack snapped her head around, heart jackhammering in her chest, to find Rainbow staring wide-eyed at her, pointing at the bottle.

It was suddenly, and inexplicably, pointing towards the other side of the log. Directly at the creature.

Applejack paled. No… No that couldn’t be right. How…

The log they were all hiding behind groaned as a massive weight pressed down onto it. It cracked and very nearly split, rotted wood giving way beneath sheer tonnage. It sagged into the mud, and their precious peephole was squashed flat.

Applejack and Rainbow both looked up, petrified, to find four dull grey scythes buried in the wood mere inches from their heads.

They were long, thick, and wickedly curled, like the talons of a hawk. The entire paw was so wide it could have completely wrapped around the downed tree they were taking shelter behind.

But it was nothing compared to the fifth digit. It was a razor sharp crescent nearly twice the size of the others, like some overgrown spur set on the inside of the massive paw. It clicked up and down pensively, digging deep into the wood with each motion.

Again the creature paused, scenting the air. Then, with an irritable grumble… it moved off.

Applejack watched as the claws released their only safe haven and receded. She could see the shadow of a great arched back lumber passed them, the ground quaking with each step it took.

She listened to each subsequent thud as the creature lumbered away, carving its own path through the dense underbrush with terrifying ease, until nothing but terrified silence remained.

~~***~~

Applejack waited until the forest came back alive before she peeked her head cautiously over the top of the log.

The scenery had changed dramatically with the giant monster’s passage. Trees had been knocked aside, and now lay toppled over all around. Branches were snapped. Bushes were flattened. And all over the place, Applejack found deep-set paw prints as wide as she was long.

“Well that was thrillin’,” she said, frowning. “Ah guess we don’t need ta worry about wakin’ it up now.”

“What the hay was that?” Rainbow breathed, following the trail of destruction. “Did you see that tail? And those claws?”

“Yeah, and Ah’m guessin’ it ain’t somethin’ we want ta get on the bad side of,” Applejack replied.

“Kinda late for that,” Rainbow grumbled. “Did you see Zecora’s bottle? It was point right at it!”

“How did it get behind us?” Agave asked.

“Well, Aconita’s drones kind of had us distracted,” Rainbow mentioned.

Agave puffed out her cheeks at that. “They’re not Mommy’s! I-I mean Mother’s!”

“We can decide whose they are later,” Applejack interrupted, cutting across Rainbow. “Right now we gotta catch up to that thing before it leaves us behind again.”

“And do what?” Bumblebee asked apprehensively.

To that, Applejack lost some of her gusto. “Well… We’ll just have ta wait and see. At the very least we’d better get outta here before those drones do come back.”

On that, there was no argument.

"Alright, grab your things and let's..." Applejack started... only to trail off.

Rainbow had just turned around to retrieve her own pack when she noticed Applejack's lapse into silence. "What?"

She turned, and found Applejack standing in the same spot, her eyes turned towards a patch of chocolate diamonds in the shape of twisted branches – right where her pack used to be.

Used to be.


~~***~~
 

The mire seemed a thousand times more dangerous as the four mares broke cover and carefully made their way deeper into the waterlogged glades. All four heads were on a swivel, scanning everything and not taking anything for granted. They knew now that they were being hunted, and not just by the Guard.

Luckily – in a way – the beast’s trail was not hard to follow. It carved a wide path through the brush, pushing through even the densest of foliage in a perpetually straight line through the mire.

Deeper they went, ever downward in a gentle slope. The humidity grew worse, forming thick banks of mist and steam that coiled through the trees and rose off of shallow pools.

And along the way, it didn’t take long for Rainbow, Bumblebee and Agave to learn how the mire had gotten its name.

At first, Rainbow thought her ears were playing tricks on her. But the further in they went, the more she started to make it out.

Here, there, all around them, she thought she could hear whispering amongst the trees. Sometimes it was relaxed and soft. Other times it was hasty and urgent. More and more, she was getting the feeling that they were surrounded, but whenever her eyes darted around for the source, she found nothing but grubby fronds and moss, and the occasional beady eye of a frog staring obliviously in her direction.

She was already stressed by that point, so the sound grated on her nerves until she felt fit to snap.

Yet nopony else seemed bothered by it. Heck, Applejack wasn’t even paying it any mind!

Finally, she simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, who’s making all that racket?” she shot, raising her voice in the hopes that whoever was whispering about them would shut up. “Show yourself!”

It was a vain hope; the sound of barely perceptible whispers continued.

Applejack glanced up at her. For some reason, she didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the noise. “Easy there, cow pony,” she said. “It’s just yer ears playin’ tricks on ya.”

When Rainbow looked back at her, her expression demanding an explanation, Applejack merely pointed off to the right.

She was indicating a tall stand of those same fronds. Its great big rubbery leaves were swaying in a low breeze… and whispering because of it.

Suddenly, Rainbow understood. It was the leaves rubbing against each other.

“Oh… I knew that,” she grunted, and quickly looked away, much to Applejack’s bemusement.

On they went, through thick banks of humidity and down winding trails; ever downhill, gradual but unmistakable.  Every now and then, Applejack would glance up towards Rainbow, register the direction their beacon was pointing, and go back to walking. Not that she felt it was needed; the creature couldn't have left them a more obvious path.

There was little in the way of conversation, and now that she was putting her hooves to work again, Applejack didn’t feel much like she was up for it anyway.

Twice she felt the stabbing, jarring pain race up her foreleg like some incessant and cruel reminder. She knew Rainbow had glanced at her each time, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her. She just… couldn’t. They could talk about it, or they could do something about it. So, Applejack trekked on doggedly.

Until, all at once, they rounded a bend, and just about ran face first into a signpost.

All four froze midstride, eyes locking onto the anomaly.

It stood right in their path; a simple pole rammed into the ground, sagging slightly to one side, with a number of boards nailed to its top. And gouged into its front was a simple message:


Beware of Dog
No Solicitors


“Uh,” Rainbow muttered, nonplussed. “That’s… kinda weird.”

“Then,” Bumblebee said back, “is that weird, too?” 

Everyone turned to look at her, at the hoof she was holding up, then towards what she was pointing at. She was indicating beyond the sign – and towards the end of the forest itself.

The trees gave way all around.  Among tall reeds and grass spread soggy, waterlogged glades; a wetlands that reeked of something rotten and nasty.

Trees were still here, clustered together in little islands across the expansive bog. They were sparse and scraggly, barely clinging to life in this drowned woodland. Most had succumbed entirely, and were little more than twisting limbs and roots grasping at empty air like dead, lichen-covered bones.

Reeds and cattails thrust up from the deep, deep mud. Everything swayed rhythmically, ignorant of the lack of a breeze. Applejack couldn’t figure out why, until she heard the faint lap of water hitting the branches at her hooves.

She looked down, and found muddy water glistening just underneath a thick coat of algae and flotsam. 

A thick, muggy haze hung over the air – steam and humidity rising off of the mire, muddling the ferocious sunlight and casting tendrils of smoky mist through the treetops. But the relief from the sun was hardly felt; the humidity was as intense as a sauna without it.

All four mares looked around, taking in the shift in scenery carefully. Each still remembered which forest they were walking through, and they were keenly aware of the dangers it was known for.

But nothing on the mire stirred, save for reeds and tall grass. A crow drifted from one tree to another, cawing the whole way before disappearing through thick branches.

More out of habit than anything, Applejack looked up towards Rainbow’s neck. Sure enough, the flask Zecora had given them was beaming a concentrated shaft of green light straight across the mire… and towards perhaps the strangest thing any of them could have expected to see in such a place.

Right in the middle of the bog, standing on stilts and wrapped around a gigantic log, was a cottage, plain as day. 

It stood complete with a little dock, rickety walkway, and even a flowerbed hanging from one of the perfectly round windows.

It had been painted a vibrant shade of canary yellow that stood out like a beacon through the dull browns that surrounded it. It was rather small, too small to have more than one or two rooms. Long wooden stilts held it up a good ten feet above the water, keeping it balanced upon something that looked like a tree trunk… and yet not. It was too smooth, but the distance between them made it difficult to make it out in perfect detail.

Applejack couldn’t help but blink at the thing. It was so garishly out of place that she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Something nagged at her as she looked at it, something that worried her even more.

It was too obvious. Would Hyacinth really live in such an auspicious place? It also begged the question; a very important question, really. Why hadn’t it been found before?

And yet there it was, right in the middle of a lake, so jarringly out of place. Quickly Applejack looked around, scanning every nook and cranny she could see.

Meanwhile, Rainbow hovered by her shoulder, blinking. “Is it just me, or does this seem just a little easy?”

“Ah wouldn’t go that far,” Applejack spoke up.

Rainbow looked at her, then followed her gaze towards an adjacent shore – and towards the gigantic translucent white mass heaped there. It was strung across trees, fallen logs, and snagging branches, like a blanket left out to dry. 

Rainbow blinked. The long strips, the mottled texture... It almost looked like…

Like snakeskin.

She’d seen the stuff before, mainly at Fluttershy’s house. But never had she seen so much in one place. An entire tree was draped with the sloughed off hide, torn strips flapping languidly in the wind. The tree itself had buckled and split quite alarmingly, as if it’d borne the weight of something truly massive.

Further along, they spotted another one of those strange, crystalline trees – which was missing nearly half of its branches, as if something had taken a bite out of it.

Now that they were looking, Applejack couldn’t help but notice odd glitters all across the mire that had nothing to do with moving water. A shimmering reed here, a glimmering tree there… It all sent a chill up Applejack’s spine.

Applejack checked Zecora’s bottle again. It wasn’t pointing directly at the cottage, and was instead indicating some spot off to its right. Yet the beam wasn’t indicating across the water; it was instead pointing about halfway across – straight towards the base of a floating matt of vegetation.

Of course, that begged a whole new question. Why in the world was it pointing at the monster? Applejack had been expecting to find an identical bottle waiting for them.

That question, however, would have to wait. There was a much more pressing one that needed to be dealt with.

“How are we supposed ta get over there?” Applejack asked, frowning.

“Well, we could always fly,” Rainbow offered.

Applejack frowned even harder at that suggestion. It was still reflex to completely dismiss the idea as being impossible. Even after she reminded herself that it wasn’t, the thought still sat dubiously in her mind.

“Dash, that’s… a long way fer me,” she admitted with some difficulty. “Ah don’t think Ah can make it that far.”

She hated admitting her shortcomings. It twisted her up inside. especially when they counted. But facts were facts. There was easily over a hundred yards of wetlands between them and the cottage, possibly two hundred. Then there was the monster, and the changelings still prowling the forest… She’d have to move fast, and that just wasn’t possible.

Maybe if she was well rested and in peak condition, both of which she was not. But as it was, she could already feel her wings aching just thinking about it – and she didn’t even have any right now.

Rainbow turned to look at her, her expression oddly blank. “Uh… I wasn’t suggesting that, but I like where your head’s at.”

Applejack raised a confused eyebrow at that. “Then what?”

“Well,” Rainbow muttered, scratching the back of her head. “I actually kind of figured I’d carry you across.”

Something flashed through Applejack’s mind. A mortifying something involving being cradled like a babe, followed by months and months and months of antagonizing.

In a rush of emerald flames, Applejack shed her disguise. “Let’s get this over with.”


~~***~~


Immediately, Applejack was self-conscious. The moment she turned to face the bog like some great adversary, she felt like Bumblebee and Agave were already aware of every imperfection she had.

Her scarred chitin, she could live with. It bothered her, knowing the two were probably looking at her cracked forehead, but she could power through it.

But she knew she was a bad flyer. She didn’t talk about it with others simply because she didn’t want to say anything about it. But the consequence of that was that she kept her poor condition to herself – and Rainbow mostly. 

Either way, she knew she’d walk away from this whole situation with a bruised pride, but she would not give Rainbow the satisfaction of taunting her with tales of how she clung so fearfully to her neck. That just wasn’t happening.

Still, she refused to meet Agave’s or Bumblebee’s gazes, and instead just focused on the cottage ahead, testing her frail wings. It did not feel natural in any way, but she persisted.

“Alright,” Rainbow said, speaking to everyone. “We’re going to do this nice and slow.”

Those were words Applejack never thought she’d hear come out of the pegasus’ mouth.

“And if anything starts chasing us, we run like bats out of Tartaurus. Got it?”

… That sounded more like it.

Behind her, Applejack heard the others mutter agreements. she gulped, her every fiber too aware of her own wings restlessly rustling on her back.

Then, to her surprise, she felt Rainbow move up beside her while giving her a meaningful look. “We’ll do it just like last time, okay?” she said quietly in a private aside.

If there was another pony alive who could possibly understand what Applejack was going through, it was Rainbow. Pride was a language they were both fluent in.

She was expecting Rainbow to take her by both hooves, like last time. For that reason, she was somewhat thrown off when, instead, the pegasus offered her the crook of her foreleg. It was so much like a gentlecolt offering a lady aid crossing a street that Applejack didn’t know if she should feel disgruntled about being the lady, or laugh at the mental image that popped into her head of Rainbow in a top hat and tailcoat and saying things like “madam” in the most supercilious accent one could imagine.

Rainbow only flashed her half a smile. She didn’t say anything, but there as a subtle fire in her eyes; a light of encouragement that softened even Applejack’s bullheaded doubts.

She still felt her ears burning, however.

Applejack hesitated, warring with her embarrassment and self-loathing, then wrapped her hoof around Rainbow’s, gripping it tight. A bemused flicker crossed the pegasus’ eyes, but she said nothing.

Then, her wings opened.

Applejack’s heart jumped into her throat. Her nerves almost overpowered her, but it was too late; Rainbow was rising into the air, and her own death grip on Dash’s foreleg was dragging her up with her.

Instinctively her wings buzzed to life, trying desperately to keep her supported. Her voice almost came out unchecked when her hooves left solid ground and automatically flailed a little to find purchase. But immediately she strangled it into silence, toughing it out.

All she could do was stare at Rainbow – sometimes glaring a burning accusation, sometimes pleading for this whole ordeal to be over already.

But all she got was that same half smile. Flying with Applejack so close to her side could not have been an easy task, and yet she managed it flawlessly. She just kept herself slightly angled away from her inexperienced partner, enough so that Applejack’s buzzing wings weren’t clashing with her own. It didn’t look natural in the slightest, and yet Rainbow didn’t show any signs of complaint.

At one point, Applejack glanced down and immediately regretted it.

It wasn’t because of height – they were scarcely a foot higher than the tallest stalks down below. It was her equilibrium, which immediately veered wildly and very nearly sent her careening into Rainbow.

They were almost halfway across the bog now, moving quicker than Applejack expected. She caught a momentary glimpse of herself in the standing water below, but she didn’t look for long. Soon her eyes snapped back up, focusing instead on the cottage.

Already her wings were burning, the muscles in her shoulders threatening to cramp. She just kept her eyes on the prize, until after only a minute or two, she started the short descent onto a small, warped deck of wood planks.

As she felt the wooden deck meet her expectant hooves, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it.

“Not bad, cowgirl,” Rainbow said, sounding pleased. “How about next time maybe we try some –”

“How about no,” Applejack panted, breathless. She was going to nip that in the bud right there.

Rainbow just snickered.

A moment later, they heard two more sets of hooves clop against the weathered deck as Bumblebee and Agave came in for a landing as well.

The group found themselves on a small, rickety boardwalk held several feet up in the air by wooden poles. It was thin, flimsy, and creaked quite dangerously with every step.

Applejack eyed what had once seemed like safe, solid ground with a dubious expression. As she surveyed the sketchy walkway, her eyes inevitably found their way to the tiny shack balanced neatly on some kind of gigantic red cap speckled with tiny white dots, like freckles.

She blinked at it, trying to figure out what it was – until it clicked. The entire cottage was built right on top of a monolithic mushroom.

Clustered far below, Applejack could just see more, smaller caps thrusting up out of a thick, sunken log of some gigantic, ancient tree just barely visible through the muck below.

Fat spores danced in the air, gleaming brightly in the daylight… a little too brightly, Applejack thought.

There was something very strange about the fungus. It just… felt weird in a way she couldn’t quite put her hoof on… until she realized why.

Her horn was tingling. Like an itch that ran into her scalp. Like static electricity that skittered under her skin instead of on top of it.

She hadn’t learned much about magic from Twilight; she just didn’t have the patience for it. But she had picked up on some of the basics. There was something very magical about that overgrown toadstool, and it made her wary of it.

Behind her, Bumblebee was inspecting the mushroom just as intently, but not as cautiously. Whatever it was, it seemed to simply intrigue her; she leaned towards it a little, brimming with curiosity.

Agave stayed on Rainbow’s other side, eying the thing around her blue legs. She didn’t seem entirely sure if it was okay to investigate, given the reprimands she’d already been given on their trek.

Rainbow was utterly oblivious.

“Sure isn’t much to look at,” she commented, rubbing her chin as she looked the cottage over. “I was kinda imagining something… cooler.”

Her voice distracted Applejack, who looked up towards her.

Rainbow glanced around, taking in all of the vantage points around. It really was an exposed location, totally not what she’d been envisioning. No immediate cover to mask an escape, no concealment to hide the location… All of the secret hideouts Daring Do had encountered had at least had one of those things.

She glanced back, meeting Applejack’s eye. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

Applejack shrugged, then stepped forward. “We might as well see if anypony’s home.”


~~***~~


The rickety deck wound around the whole periphery of the shack’s unconventional foundation. Each step made the wood pop and creak; more than once, Applejack found herself paying more attention to where her hooves were going than where she was headed.

Whenever she could, however, she watched the house, eying the grimy windows in the hopes of seeing inside.

The faded curtains were drawn. No lights shown from within. The roof sagged low. The boards along the walls were as crooked as buckteeth in some places. If it wasn’t for the coat of paint and the baskets of flowers under the eaves, Applejack would have written the place off as being long abandoned.

But her gut feeling told her this place was something more, and so she watched the ramshackle cottage carefully for any signs of life.

A quarter of the way around, they came to the front door, complete with a matt that said “Welcome” in faded lettering. Most peculiar indeed.

Applejack glanced back towards Rainbow, who glanced towards her.

“Maybe you should knock,” offered Bumblebee.

Applejack gave her a look. The chances of that place being occupied were about as good as herself becoming a Wonderbolt; very low. But, she decided to humor the awkward drone. She stepped forward, and politely gave the door two curt knocks.

And to her astonishment, she got a response.

“Just a minute!” sang a voice from inside. An awfully familiar voice.

“Was that…?” Rainbow stammered, stunned. “N-no… no, it couldn’t be.”

“W-we just heard wrong, that’s all,” Applejack agreed, eyes wide.

Bumblebee glanced between them both. “Really? Then it wasn’t –”

With a loud bang, the front door burst open. And standing in the threshold, beaming ear to ear, was the pinkest anomaly any of them had ever seen.

“Hi!” Pinkie greeted. “What took you so long?”

Applejack stared. And then she stared some more. And just for good measure, she stared some more.

“…Pinkie?”

Pinkie Pie turned to her, all sunshine and rainbows. “Applejack?”

Applejack took a stiff step forward, then pawed Pinkie’s face. She was, somehow, real. She even giggled when her nose was booped.

“How…” Applejack breathed, absolutely at a loss for anything resembling an answer.

“How did I catch up?” Pinkie said for her. The whole group nodded in unison. “That’s easy! First I was at your house. Then I was in the Everfree. Then I was at Zecora’s. Then I saw a big scary monster, and then I followed the big scary monster, and now I’m here! Duh!”

Applejack blinked. Slowly. “Pinkie Pie.”

“Yep?”

“When was the last time somepony told ya that yer really… random?”

“Just now,” Pinkie said, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Oh!” she added, jolting upright, “You guys should come in! There’s somepony here you really need to talk to!”

Applejack blinked, doing a double take. “Uh… there is?”

“Yep!” Pinkie enthused, grabbed her under the foreleg, and yanked her right into the shack, leaving three mildly shell-shocked ponies standing outside.

“Um… I don’t think I’m still imagining Pinkie Pie,” Bumblebee informed the others. “But I’m really not sure…”

Rainbow shook her head. “Aren’t we all…”


~~***~~


The inside of the shack was, unsurprisingly, rather cramped. It consisted of only two rooms; the majority of the inside was taken up in a single open space that had several things crammed into it – a small kitchenette with two cupboards, fire oven and sink, next to a tiny circle of two chairs around a coffee table paired with a moth-eaten couch pushed up against the wall.

A rocking chair sat alone in one corner of the room, right next to a window and the only other door in the place, which lead to an itty-bitty bedroom that made Apple Bloom’s club house look spacious.

Released from Pinkie Pie’s insistent tug, Applejack staggered into the shack, and immediately noticed the odd, pungent odor in the air. She’d smelled it before in natural remedies stores. It was an earthy, bitter smell, like ground roots and leaves all mixed together.

In the kitchen, a brass kettle fumed silently. And throughout the room, Applejack heard a familiar rhythmic creak of wood rocking back and forth steadily.

“We were just making tea,” Pinkie explained, bounding over to the stove. “Oh! And these funny cookies! At least, I think they’re cookies… they smell kinda funny.”

“Oh they’re cookies alright, dearie,” crooned a wispy voice from one corner of the room. “My own secret recipe, I’ll have you know.”

Applejack turned her head towards the source of that voice – and the wooden creaking sound. Her eyes went to the rocking chair, and the wizened occupant seated in it.

She jolted when she found herself looking at a changeling, though perhaps the oldest changeling she had ever seen before in her life.

Ancient didn’t even begin to describe the drone sitting before Applejack. She was hunchbacked with age, her neck almost sticking out at a right angle from her shoulders. Every one of her joints was knobby with arthritis. What little of her mane remained was wispy white, like threads of spider silk.

Her chitin was so worn from age it looked almost papery and fragile on her boney frame. She had remarkably few wrinkles, but her entire hide looked… old, like the taut skin of a dried mummy.

Even with sunken eyes full of milky cataracts, they still gave off a soft blue light as she gazed off into space, her toothless mouth pulled up into a puckered smile.

Her entire body was wrapped in a flowery shawl, her legs covered up by a knitted quilt as she rocked gently back and forth on her rocker.

She seemed oblivious to the other visitors in the room, her attention instead turned towards the bouncing pink shape tending to her kitchen. Whether she could make out more than a pastel blob, however, was up for debate.

“Thank you, dearie,” she said to Pinkie. “These old hooves aren’t what they used to be…”

“No problemo,” Pinkie said back with a smile.

Applejack glanced from Pinkie back to the elderly drone still rocking absently, staring into space with a small smile on her old face.

“Uh, Pinkie?” spoke up Applejack. “Is this…?”

She trailed off when she noticed the old changeling stiffen slightly. She turned her head, sightlessly scanning the room. As she did so, her nostrils flared as she sniffed once, then twice. Then she paused, her smile disappearing.

“I know that smell,” she said slowly, as if she herself could not believe it. “It has changed so much. So many new scents mingled with it. But… I still recognize it. I would recognize it anywhere.”

Her blind sights settled unerringly upon Applejack then, causing her to freeze. “You have your mother’s scent,” the drone went on. “And so many others, yes… some stronger than others… But you are still one of a kind, little Applejack.”

Applejack’s heart jolted in her chest. “Ya… know me?”

The drone gave an unexpected witch’s cackle; dry and throaty. “Heehee! Why, of course I do! I may be old, and my mind might not be what it used to be… but I still remember all the little ones. Oh yes… I remember them so clearly.”

It was around that point that Rainbow made her way into the hut, her eyes immediately falling on Applejack’s motionless backside. “Hey, what’s the holdup?” she said, trotting up to stand beside her friend.

The elder drone raised her head slightly, aiming it in the direction of the new voice. Then, again, she sniffed. “Hmm… Ah yes. You’re that other smell on her,” she commented, breaking out into a fresh grin. “That makes sense.”

Rainbow jolted to a halt, eyes locking on the unexpected crone rocking in the corner. “Er… who’s this?”

“Oh!” the drone gave another cackle. “Heeh! Silly me… where are my manners. I am old lady Widow. But, most just call me Nana.”

She cocked her head slightly, still surveying Rainbow with a curious expression. “And you, my dear… what are you?”

“Oh,” Rainbow said with a blink, then puffed out her chest. “The name’s Rainbow Dash, but most just call me awesome.”

Nana cackled again, revealing empty gums. “Do they now? Heehee, oh but I do love lively children.”

Applejack glanced towards Rainbow, who seemed to be trying to figure out if she’d been complimented or insulted by being called a child. Then, she looked back towards Nana – a mystery wrapped in a shawl.

“We’re sorry for bargin’ in like this,” Applejack said. “We were lookin’ for someplace, and Ah guess we got turned around.”

“Did you?” Nana said curiously.

“Yes,” Applejack went on. She made to sweep her hat from her head respectfully – but only found her crown. She still held it against her chest anyway, just to be polite. “We were lookin’ for Hyacinth’s place.”

“Oh,” Nana said with a grin. “Well I think you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

Applejack frowned. “Come again?”

Nana’s grin grew, her milky eyes turning towards her again. “Hyacinth is such a dear. She lets me stay here; watch over the place while she’s out on missions for your mother.”

Applejack suppressed a gasp. They were in the right place. Stunned as she was, she almost missed Nana’s next words.

“It’s strange, though. I haven’t seen her for a while,” she commented. “Her Highness must have her on a very difficult mission, the poor thing.”

Now there was a whole new lump in Applejack’s throat. It was too big to speak around, though Applejack doubted she’d have the words to say, anyway.

But beside her, Rainbow suddenly cocked her head curiously. “’Her Highness’?” Rainbow echoed. “You mean Applejack?”

Nana chuckled. “Oh no, no. Her mother, of course,” she said. “She’s oh so busy. Always busy. I look after Applejack when she isn’t around. Hyacinth does a good job, but there are things a growing youngling needs. And she's always busy, too. So much to do... always so much to do...”

She paused, then suddenly jolted again. She looked up, sniffing noisily. “Oh! Hello dearie,” she said, looking straight at Applejack. “Come for another story? You know your mother worries when you sneak off. She’ll be good and worried.”

Nana then turned, and shouted over one shoulder. “Flicker! Flicker, dear! Be a dear and go tell Queen Carnation her daughter’s down in the nursery again. Before she gets too worried.” She paused. “Flicker? Ach, she’s never around these days…”

She turned back around, fixing a nervous Applejack with a mild smile. “And who’s your friend? Oh, did you charm a lovely little pegasus already?”

"Ooooo," teased Pinkie from the kitchen. 

Color rushed to Applejack’s cheeks. “Wha-n-no. Ah-Ah mean, I didn’t…”

Nana merely chuckled knowingly. “She has your scent already,” she giggled. “Well, she’s welcome to listen, too.”

Rainbow self-consciously raised a foreleg and sniffed it all the while avoiding Applejack’s gaze. Applejack only spluttered stupidly. That is, until Pinkie suddenly appeared on her other side and whispered to her.

“It’s okay,” she hissed privately. “She’s been doing that ever since I arrived. I’ve been her cousin, niece, a friend’s daughter, an assistant and a whole bunch of other things I don’t think I really am!”

Pinkie abruptly raised her voice, turning towards Nana. “A story sounds great!” she said.

“Good, good,” Nana said happily, then paused. “Oh, bother,” she grumbled as she turned towards the oven. “Did I leave the cookies in the oven again?”

“No, Nana,” Pinkie said quickly, zipping over into the kitchenette in an instant. “I’m on it!”

“Oh… thank you dear,” Nana said hesitantly, but sank back into her chair nevertheless. “… What was your name again?”

Applejack turned away while Pinkie went through what seemed to be a tired greeting routine, and instead she turned towards Rainbow. For some reason, she was fixedly staring out a window – in the opposite direction of Applejack.

“You alright, sugarcube?” Applejack asked quietly.

“Yep,” Rainbow said back instantly. “Totally awesome and charm-free.”

Applejack quirked a smile at that. “Good ta hear.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Applejack noticed Nana turning back towards them. Only… a slight wrinkle had appeared on her brow; a confused look bringing down her smile. Her nostrils were flaring again.

“And… who might you be?” she asked calmly.

Applejack blinked, then turned around – towards Agave and Bumblebee, both of whom were standing in the corner by the door unobtrusively.

Nana raised a quivering, knobby hoof, proffering it in their direction. “You… your scent is familiar,” she said. “Yes… yes… Aconita,” she breathed. “How very curious… But you…”

Her eyes turned ever so slightly towards the one standing beside Agave, who’d stiffened on the spot.

Nana stared at Bumblebee, her eyes narrowing.

“… I know the smells of every queen... every hive to have existed," she said quietly. "But you..."

She leaned forward slightly, warily scowling at the intruder in her home.

"... I do not know you."
	
	
> Chapter 12: Beware of Dog
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Bumblebee knew that day would come. She’d held out hope that it wouldn’t; that she could continue living her life the way she liked. But deep down, she’d known… she’d always known. Someday, somepony would ask a question. And that would be the end of it.

And so, she’d carefully made a plan in case the inevitable came to pass. She’d practiced, rehearsed, and refined until she had perfected it. She knew it would work on that day. She would be safe, at the very least.

And so, when that day came, as she knew it eventually would… she set in motion her foolproof plan.


~~***~~


Applejack looked down, frowning in confusion. She looked up to her side, catching Rainbow’s eye.

Her friend was just as confused as she was. Her brows furrowed together, she turned to her other side, making eye contact with a mildly puzzled Pinkie Pie.

All three were standing around the object of their confusion, looking down towards it with frowns and cocked heads.

“Uh… Bumblebee?” Rainbow ventured carefully. “Helloooo?”

Nothing.

All three stared down at the floor – towards a perfectly prone changeling drone, lying on her back. Her legs were curled against her chest like a dead spider, her tongue lolling over her cheek.

Bumblebee didn’t twitch, nor did she make a noise of any kind. She just laid there, apparently as dead as a doornail.

In theory.

“Bumblebee, we know you’re alive,” Applejack pointed out.

“No you don’t.”

Applejack rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Y’all just spoke.”

Silence followed that.

Applejack glanced towards Rainbow, who only shrugged, completely at a loss.

“Look, we ain’t mad at ya,” Applejack went on. “We just want some kind of an explanation, that’s all.”

…

“And playin’ dead ain’t gonna convince us ta go away,” she pointed out.

Bumblebee remained on her back, legs in the air, mouth agape and tongue flopped out.

Applejack waited a few seconds longer, waiting for the silly drone to come to her senses. When she didn’t, Applejack heaved a sad sigh.

“Alright, Bumblebee… Ya leave me no choice.”

Secretly, Bumblebee tensed. No matter the torture, no matter the pain inflicted upon her, she would not budge, not even for Applejack.

Applejack looked up grimly, glancing towards Pinkie. “Ya know what ta do,” she said.

Pinkie broke into a smile. “Okie dokie lokie,” she sang, then stepped closer towards the lifeless mare.

Bumblebee did not react. She was calm… she was serene.

Right up until Pinkie leaned back, inhaled deeply, lunged… and blew a loud, wet raspberry right on her exposed belly.

The resulting squeal could be heard for miles.

Hysterical, Bumblebee tried to squirm out from the pink devil’s grip. But she was persistent – and strong. She would lean back, pause, then unexpectedly lunge again, soliciting another shriek from her.

“N-n-nooooo!” wailed Bumblebee around uncontrollable giggles. “S-stop i- Ah! Stop it! P-p-please!”

“Would you look at that,” Rainbow teased, cocking a grin. “it’s a miracle.”

“Alright, Pinkie,” Applejack said, waving a holey hoof. “Y’all can stop now.”

With one last blow, Pinkie brought Bumblebee to further hysterics before leaning back, grinning, eyes dancing with mirth.

Bumblebee lay in a heap, panting fitfully. “I… I’ll talk,” she wheezed, “Just p-please… please don’t do that anymore…”

“There,” Applejack said, sitting down. “That wasn't so hard, now, was it?”

Bumblebee didn’t answer. She just continued to try to catch her breath.

A short ways away, Nana continued her rocking, smiling idly at the sounds of these children playing.

Agave watched from the kitchenette, quiet and unobtrusive as she observed the entire ludicrous scene, from the moment Bumblebee had keeled over to right then.

After a moment, Bumblebee worked her way up into a sitting position, looking utterly dejected. “That… that was supposed to work…”

“How?” questioned Rainbow, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I don’t know,” Bumblebee whined. “No pony was supposed to find out! Oh, I’m going to be in so much trouble…!”

“Hold on there,” Applejack said, raising a pacifying hoof. “We don’t even know what the problem is.”

“You don’t understand,” complained Bumblebee. She looked like she was on the verge of tears as she raised her hooves and started knocking herself on the head. “He’s going to be so mad…”

“Who is,” Rainbow asked, losing her patience.

Bumblebee hid behind her hooves, peering out through the holes. “The… the Spymaster,” she whispered. “He’s going to be so mad at me…”

“Why?” Applejack asked. “Bumblebee, just calm down. Everythin’s goin’ ta be just fine.”

Bumblebee shook, sniffed, and started rocking slightly.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I don’t know anything. But the Spymaster made me promise to keep it secret. Really, really promise… I grew up in Queen Carnation’s hive, but… but I was never from there. That’s all I know, I swear!”

“Why?” Rainbow asked.

“I don’t know,” Bumblebee whined. “I was too young. But he didn’t want anyone finding out… He was afraid the Court might find out and come looking for us.”

Applejack exchanged a look with Rainbow, then glanced back towards Bumblebee. She took a step closer, and gently put her hoof on Bumblebee’s shoulder. The miserable drone tensed, becoming motionless.

“It’s alright, Bumblebee,” Applejack promised, her voice soft and placating. She gave Bumblebee a smile when the drone peeked up at her. “Just take a deep breath. There ya go. Now… start from the beginnin’.”

Bumblebee gulped a few times, focusing on her breathing. It seemed to do her some good; she calmed down markedly, but there was still a tremble running through her.

“Alright,” Applejack started slowly. “Now… Ya must’ve come from somewhere. Did yer ma come with Carnation from the south?” 

Applejack did not expect the small shake of Bumblebee’s head. “No…,” Bumblebee mumbled. “I grew up in Carnation’s hive, and Mom was gone a lot. Sometimes, she would take me to Canterlot, to this big house with lots and lots of rooms… But we never stayed long. She… she said it was no place for a foal.”

Something about Bumblebee’s explanation struck Applejack as being very, very odd. It wasn't what she was describing, but rather a single choice of word that caught her attention.

Changelings took care of their young very diligently, yes… but there was never any one parent figure for one hatchling. Only the Equestrian drones lived full time with their own offspring. For everyone else, a hatchling was everyone’s hatchling, looked after by the whole instead of the individual. There were no family ties; only the connection to a hive.

And yet… Bumblebee had said ‘Mom’. No drone ever used that word. And yet Bumblebee had. Somehow, a maternal drone caring for her young seemed very unusual from what Applejack had come to expect.

Applejack was so busy puzzling she nearly didn’t catch Bumblebee’s next words.

“That’s all I know, really, but the Spymaster really, really doesn’t want anypony to know,” she said while sounding like she was bordering on hysterics all over again.

Applejack frowned, thinking hard. “Does that mean he’s like ya?”

Bumblebee nodded. “There are… a few of us,” she mumbled. “When… When Freedom was abandoned, the older ones kept as many of us together as they could, here in Equestria. That’s when I learned I was… different.”

Bumblebee chewed her lip. “I’ve… I’ve been trying to keep my distance all my life… I was afraid I’d slip… The Spymaster doesn’t want the other hives to know. Definitely not the Court. And… and he doesn’t know if you’ll end up just like them or not, so…”

She gulped, staring down at her hooves. “So… he made us promise not to tell you… until we knew for sure you wouldn’t be like them.”

Applejack looked down at Bumblebee, too busy processing information to say anything. Bumblebee was never from her hive… and yet she’d grown up there. Unless she was missing something, that almost sounded like…

“Ah, so you are a queenless,” Nana croaked. There was a note of understanding in her voice now – as well as sympathy. “I can detect many scents on you… some sweet, some bitter… Hmm… I wonder…”

Nana’s brow furrowed for the first time, thin wrinkles forming across her papery forehead. “Spymaster… Spymaster… hmm… I know that name…”

Applejack turned towards Nana then. “Ya do?”

Nana nodded, still looking rather troubled. “Her Highness has been conspiring with some rather strange folks of late. She’s called away from the hive at all hours, day or night, and she does not return for days. It isn’t my place to judge, of course, but poor Applejack misses her mama so…”

Applejack fought down the lump in her throat.

“But that name…,” Nana went on, idly tapping the armrest of her rocker as she pondered. “Oh, I am sure I’ve heard that name before. I could have sworn… Bah. The old thinker isn’t what it used to be.” She gave a sad chuckle. “Maybe Hyacinth left a clue with some of her old things.”

Applejack jolted, swiftly turning her focus back onto Nana. “Hyacinth’s old things?”

Nana nodded, and slowly began the arduous task of lowering herself out of her rocker. “Indeed, dearie. She was very careful to keep one thing safe in particular.”

She beckoned the group over while Applejack fought to keep her expression neutral. “Come, come. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere…”

Then she abruptly paused. “Did I leave the cookies in the oven again?”


~~***~~


From his perch, Antlion surveyed the steamy mire from under his hood.

The heat was smothering, choking even, but he powered through it.  Instead, he focused on remaining motionless on the underside of a heavy tree branch. From here, a sheet of hanging moss hid him perfectly from sight, but the many breaks and openings gave him perfect lines of sight across the upside down mire in front of him.

He’d watched silently as Applejack and her friends made their way across the glade, and then disappeared into the hut at its center. So, now he was settling down for a good, long bout of surveillance.

Somewhere off to his right, a ‘frog’ chimed an all clear. Other such calls regularly colored the air every few seconds, keeping him up to date with just a few trill notes. No pony would notice if they heard, and that was the idea. To them and any untrained ear, it was just the sounds of a marshland. To Antlion, it was a code broadcasted by a cadre of drones strategically placed throughout the mire all around. 

A part of him was mildly impressed that Bumblebee had picked up on their warning back on the trail. For a mare of her… disposition… she’d reacted flawlessly in getting Applejack out of harm’s way before he’d had to do it himself.

And now…

His eyes returned to the hut in the middle of the mire, his gaze lingering for some time.

The branch he was on unexpectedly quivered as it took more weight. Stealthy hooves whispered over the top side, until they came to a stop directly above Antlion’s position.

“Sir,” whispered a soft, soft voice.

He knew better than to look. All he’d see would be empty air, anyway. But at least he recognized the voice.

“We’re in position around the hut,” reported the drone. “All avenues of approach are covered.”

Antlion didn’t react for a moment. “That took too long,” he scolded.

“My apologies, sir. With the unknown changelings in the area and the creature nearby, I ordered them to move with all due caution. I take full responsibility for the delay.”

Antlion suppressed a sigh. He was a good lad. Inexperienced, just like the rest of them… but good nonetheless. He made a mental note for further stealth drills in the future, but otherwise, he let it drop. For now.

“Have the hunting parties found anything yet?” Antlion inquired.

“Nothing yet,” replied the other. “The trail disappeared fifty yards from the path; we think they took to the trees. I don’t think we tipped them off… but if they’re hunting Her Highness, undoubtedly they’re expecting some sort of entourage; they’ll be on guard, and in numbers.”

Antlion nodded to himself. That was to be expected. Well, as long as those drones continued under that assumption and kept their distance, Her Highness’ little excursion would continue on without further incident.

Still… Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

He found himself staring at the hut again, watching it pensively. Uncharacteristically, he found his mind wandering off course slightly; a question bubbled up from the back of his mind.

Hyacinth… What did you hide here?

He had been idly pondering it for some time. Would it be something heavy, or large? That would require more drones to carry; not an inconspicuous way to travel. Was it the answer Applejack sought, or just a clue? If it was that second option, he’d have to prepare for more trips into whatever Maker-forsaken pit she poked her nose into. And if the narrow time frame hanging over her got to her, she’d get hasty and make mistakes…

“Sir?”

Antlion snapped back to reality. “Speak.”

“Why did you allow Bumblebee to remain with Her Highness? Surely she’d only be a liability.”

Antlion pursed his lips, taking a moment to answer. “Somehow… I suspect that that is exactly what Hyacinth was banking on.”

“Sir?”

Antlion shook his head. “If it had not been her accompanying Her Highness into that place, it would have been me, or any one of us. Hyacinth had enough sense to know we would not let her wander far, unguarded.”

He paused, his eyes catching motion in one of the windows. A curtain moved, drawing shut just a little more. When nothing further happened, he relaxed.

“At any rate, it seems our purpose in following Her Highness has just been simplified for us.”

He heard the changeling above him shifting, perhaps trying to catch a glimpse of him below. “Why do you say that?”

Antlion’s eyes gleamed through the matts of moss, fixated on the hut itself. “Because I’m starting to suspect I know what – or who – Hyacinth tucked away out here.”

“You do?” asked the other, sounding perplexed.

Antlion’s eyes only narrowed slightly. Yes… the signs were there. For one thing, Hyacinth despised the color yellow…

He stared at the bright, canary yellow cottage as if he could see straight through it to what was going on beyond.

“Send the message to the Spymaster,” he grunted.

“Which one?”

“You know the one.”

There was a significant pause following that, like the drone was in shock. Antlion was about to snap at the greenhorn… when the croaking stopped.

He tensed, his head whipping around in the direction of the sudden silence; fifty feet from his left, on the very edge of the mire.


~~***~~
 

“Focus, Nana,” Applejack said at last, taking a step closer. She was used to dealing with elderly ponies, her family being chock full of them. But even she had her limits.

The wizened drone turned in her direction, a questioning look on her face. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said, sounding slightly puzzled. “Did I forget something again?”

Applejack immediately softened. She knew it wasn’t Nana’s fault things kept slipping through the cracks, and getting angry at her wouldn’t solve anything. She reminded herself that, and her temper cooled.

“Ya were tellin’ us about Hyacinth’s things,” she said, all the while trying to keep the urgency in her voice to a minimum. “Do ya know where they are?”

Nana thought for a moment before her expression became slightly troubled. “I suppose… But dearie, those things are not to be touched unless it is an emergency.”

“Trust me,” Applejack said. “It is.”

Nana blinked at her. She started to open her mouth… then paused. It was as if, in that moment, something in her wizened old brain clicked back on. The contented, oblivious look on her face cracked as some small understanding penetrated her mind, and when she looked at Applejack, she had a look in her half-blind eyes like she actually grasped who she was looking. Her expression spasmed slightly as a look of true worry took form on her face, making her sunken and ancient features look only older.

“…Oh,” she said quietly, her smile gone. “Oh I… I see.”

Her eyes struggled to focus through the mercurial blurs and blotches muddling her vision… but through the darkness and fuzzy shapes, she could have sworn she saw two amber eyes, right in front of hers, and the face they belonged to. If only for a moment…

“Nana?” Applejack asked quietly. “Can ya show us where it is?”

Nana jolted slightly, returning to her senses. “Oh! Oh, uh… yes. Yes, of course. Right… right this way.”


~~***~~


As silently as a pair of ghosts, two armor-clad stallions crept through the underbrush of the mire. They were careful to avoid putting their hooves on anything crunchy or noisy, but with the sogginess of the forest floor, care was barely an issue.

But as they approached the clearing – where the stench of stagnant water was strongest – they paused, remaining in the shadow of the trees.

One turned to the other, who had his head up while he scented the air. “They came through here,” he stated. “Three… four of them. The trail is still fresh.”

“It’s a miracle you can track anything through this reeking swamp,” another stallion griped, sliding up beside the other two. “I don’t think I’ll ever get this stench out of my nose.”

“Quiet, both of you,” the first said in a clipped tone. “Keep your voices down. There’s no telling who’s listening.”

The second glanced around warily, eyes up towards the hanging canopies over their heads. Nothing stirred, but he wasn't expecting it to be that easy.

“Then we’d best do this quick,” the second muttered. “Fast and quiet.”

“The Royal Guard won’t be far behind us,” the third said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with and be long gone before –”

That was precisely the moment Antlion fell on his head with a crunch.


~~***~~


Applejack followed behind a slow-moving Nana as she stiffly shuffled into her bedroom.

‘Bedroom’ might have been too generous a word for it. The space was miserably small – hardly bigger than a walk-in closet. And yet, Nana had made the most of it.

The walls were covered in merry flower print wallpaper; green backdrop behind vertically climbing rows of vines covered in white flowers. The bed was covered in a matching green comforter, while the frame and petite dresser standing in opposite corners were stark white. Along one wall, a window sat open, a light breeze toying at frilly white curtains.

It still didn’t hide the fact that hardly more than two ponies could even fit in the space, forcing Rainbow, Bumblebee and Agave to wait outside – much to Rainbow’s chagrin.

Nana shambled her way towards the bed – a tiny little thing, despite taking up the majority of the space in the whole room.

“Hyacinth told me something like this might happen,” Nana said, solemn for the first time. “She rarely kept anything important for long. Most everything she found, she committed to memory and destroyed.”

Applejack looked up, a bad feeling in her chest. “Why would she do that?”

Nana slowly turned around. She was too stiff to look over her shoulder very far, so she ended up turning almost ninety degrees just to look in Applejack’s direction. “I… don’t know,” she admitted, looking mildly distressed at that fact. “She was always so very careful. Hyacinth always seemed convinced that somepony – or someone – was following her. she constantly worried about things falling into the wrong hooves, especially when it came to your mother... or you, I suppose.”

Nana shook her head, turning back around to continue shambling towards the head of the bed. “She made me promise to look after everything she did not have destroyed. And to make sure only you received it.”

Nana paused. “I… I think? No, no there was something…”

Applejack panicked inside. If Nana forgot again, it could be hours before they ever got to this point again. She knew she didn’t have that time to waste, not with the Guard and the Court close on their heels.

She was interrupted by a shout from just the other side of the doorframe. “What’s she saying?” Rainbow hollered. “Have you found it yet? What’s taking you guys so long?”

Applejack chose – or rather forced herself – to ignore the impatient pegasus and refocused urgently on Nana, who still looked torn.

“Where did Hyacinth hide her things?” she pressed. “Please, Nana. It’s real important.”

Nana glanced up at her, and for one terrifying moment, Applejack thought she’d lost her to her senility again. The look she got was blank, almost surprised.

But then her mouth tightened, and pulled up slightly in a thin smile. “Right here, dearie,” she said, and with one hoof she gestured towards the bed. Specifically, right at its base, where a patchwork quilt touched the floor. "Kept it nice and safe just for you."

“What’s she pointing at?” Rainbow called in. “I bet it’s like some kind of secret door, huh? I’m totally right, aren’t I?”

“Would ya mind keepin’ it down?” Applejack snapped irritably over her shoulder. “And no, it’s just the bed, sugarcube.”

“Oh… Is there a secret door under the bed?”

“There ain’t no secret doors!” she shouted back, paused, then looked towards Nana. “Are there?”

Nana shook her head. “No, dearie, not this time.”

She made to squat down, but… well, her joints were having none of it. For the amount of flexibility her knees had left in them, one would think they’d been filled with hardened rubber. Pain was evident on her face every time she tried, but she hardly got farther down than a slouch.

“Be a dear and bring it out for me, will you?” Nana requested, eyeing Applejack with a look akin to an apology of some kind. “These old bones just can't quite make it.”

Applejack was only too happy to oblige. She swiftly moved up and crouched down, eying the dark recess beneath Nana’s bed.

There was something there; a square, box-shaped something, neatly tucked away just barely out of sight behind the cascading bedspread. It wasn’t much of a hiding spot, all things considered, and Applejack couldn’t help but think what Hyacinth would say about having her carefully guarded secret being stowed away in the first place anypony would think to look.

But she brushed it off; there were more pressing things to deal with.

After pulling up the quilt to get a better look at it, Applejack noticed two things immediately. Firstly, it was made entirely out of rich brown wood the likes of which was reserved for only the wealthiest of owners, standing in stark contrast to the lived-in wear of the cottage. It had been polished and lacquered to perfection, to the point that Applejack could almost see the details of her own amber eyes looking back at her.

Secondly, her eyes immediately fell on a brass grip embedded into its side that gleamed even in the low light. Quickly she reached out, took hold of the fixture, and pulled.

The object was heavy, much heavier than Applejack was expecting it to be, given its size. It must have weighed almost as much as her younger sister despite only being the size of a shoebox.

Grunting, she pulled hard, and with a slight rasp of wood on wood, Hyacinth’s secret cache was pulled out into the open light, probably for the first time in many, many years.

It was a strange, rectangular box constructed entirely of a wood Applejack had only seen a few times before. The metallic silver sheen in the gain gave it away; ironwood. That would certainly explain the weight the thing had; the name wasn't just for show. Clearly Hyacinth had been serious about keeping whatever was inside safe. Would-be thieves would have an easier time cutting into a bank vault.

Each short end was fitted with a brass grip. There were no screws or nails, leading Applejack to believe it was being held in place by some kind of resin.

But there was something very, very wrong with the box, something Applejack immediately noticed and summarily quashed the building excitement inside her.

The box had no lid.

More precisely, there was no seam that would give away a lid. No hinges, no lock or latch… nothing. Just a uniform block of wood with grips on either end.

Applejack quickly glanced towards Nana, who was looking in her general direction with a mild, oblivious smile once more, as if everything should be crystal clear now.

“Uh, Nana,” Applejack said slowly, “Is this… whatchamacallit supposed ta open?”

Confusingly, Nana nodded, a knowing grin on her face. “Yes, dearie. But Hyacinth never told me how. She seemed confident you’d know how to get in at whatever it was she left you.”

Applejack frowned. Now it was making more sense why this thing was left in such an exposed place. But it hardly made her feel better.

She sat down, at a complete loss all over again. “How in Equestria am Ah supposed ta do that?”

Nana cackled, flashing her gums. “You’ll figure it out,” Nana said knowingly. “You just need to use your head.”


~~***~~


With a grunt, Antlion threw a stallion clean off his hooves and head-first into an unhealthily sturdy tree with a solid thud, making it quiver. There his victim stayed, propped up around the head by a knothole while the rest of his armored body collapsed limply against the trunk.

“Sloppy,” Antlion growled in disappointment. “Even the Guard knows how to fight better than this.”

He rounded on the other two – who were all lying in various poses of anguish on the floor. Five cloaked changelings stood around them, teeth bared and horns crackling threateningly.

Antlion hadn’t needed to engage the third at all. But sometimes, actions spoke louder than any threat could. And he’d spoken plenty loud already. And would you look at that; the other captives were behaving themselves now.

The two stallions glared daggers at him, but it was somewhat difficult to appear defiant with their hooves clasped together in glassy green restraints.

“What should we do with them?” one of the cloaked drones asked, eying their captives like they were squirming maggots.

“Dispel the peons, leave them where the Guard will find them,” Antlion said dismissively. “It will give Steel Shod something to chew on for a while.”

That made the prisoners satisfyingly pale.

“And that one?” asked a different drone, jerking his head towards the unconscious stallion currently wearing a tree on his face.

Antlion glanced towards him, his expression unchanged. “Keep the leader.”

Antlion was just turning back around when he heard a spiteful chuckling. “Leader? Him?” one of the stallions taunted. “He’s just like the rest of us.”

Antlion raised an eyebrow as he sighted down his nose at the captive. “And that would be?”

The stallion flashed a sinister grin, as the forest went dead quiet again. “A distraction.”

Croaking alarms went off all around, from every direction. Cloaked changelings raised their heads, hissing warnings.

Antlion, however, remained unmoved.

He slowly trotted closer, the two captured imposters staring up with contemptuous grins as he closed the distance, and leaned down towards them. “No, you’re not,” Antlion said bluntly. “You’re bait.”

The imposters’ eyes widened hugely as the trees all around them began to shake and shudder with activity as the rest of Applejack’s entourage made their presence known.


~~***~~


As the trees and bushes came alive with activity, no one noticed the surface of the mire churn irritably.

A huge lily pad rose off the surface of the water only a few bare inches; just far enough for a pair of yellow reptilian eyes to peer into the distance at the commotion.

The barest flicker of a jet black tongue – soundless and stealthy. It scented the air, curious… but more than a little grumpy. Such noisy, inconsiderate pests making such a racket.

A familiar smell was on the air. Very familiar. It knew that smell. It smelled of pain and lancing fire. It smelled of lessons, the black thing that sometimes wasn’t black.

No wait… these were different. Similar, but different. Not painful black thing with lancing fire, but… similar. Like the deer that wasn’t the deer it had just eaten; similar… but not the same. Curious…

Black thing with lancing fire had its respect, if only begrudgingly. It was a worthy adversary. These ones… they had not earned the same. And it hated little black things. Tasted of crunchy sour, burned all the way down the throat and back out again. Nasty… painful as food, too.

But it didn’t like having its nap disturbed. Now it knew it was hungry again… and it didn’t like being hungry even more than little black things. And it hated little black things…

Without a sound, it slipped back beneath the surface, leaving the mire deathly still without a ripple out of place. It knew how to deal with things it hated.


~~***~~


Applejack stared blankly at the box, resisting the urge to pace. She’d only get a step in either direction, anyway. 

It figures that Hyacinth would put some kind of protection around whatever she was keeping hidden; Nana wasn’t much of a protector if push came to shove.

Still, a hint would have been nice.

Applejack let Nana hobble past her without tearing her eyes away from the box. She thought Nana said something, but she was too preoccupied to notice.

If Applejack was honest with herself – and she usually was – she knew that thinking things through wasn’t one of her strong-suits. She was too practical and straight-forward – the exact opposite of how changelings thought, she was coming to learn. Case in point; the first idea to occur to her was to find a saw and cut her way through the dang thing, which was summarily dismissed. She didn’t feel like wasting a saw in the endeavor, and she’d probably need several dozen to even scratch the box’s finish.

Forcing her way in was out of the question. There had to be another, perhaps magical solution. It was the only logical thing she could think of, though Applejack was constantly worrying that she wasn’t thinking broadly enough. If only Twilight were here...

If Hyacinth had set up some kind of defense against other changelings, the solution would either be so convoluted she’d never get it, or so painfully simple she’d never get it. Either way, sitting on her butt trying to do the mental equivalent of solving a rubix cube just wasn’t the way to go. That was Twilight’s deal, not her’s.

But there was something Applejack knew that did give her some hope. Hyacinth had kept this safe for her. If another soul in Equestria knew what Applejack was and wasn’t capable of, it was Hyacinth. So with that in mind, she must have designed some way for Applejack to get inside the box that only Applejack was capable of. She must have. She just had to think of it.

But short of kicking the dang thing from here to Canterlot, Applejack was at a loss. She could try applying her magic to it…

“Uh… what’re you doing?”

Applejack jumped, then whirled around. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the pegasus feathers brushing against her side.

Rainbow was seated next to her like she’d been there all along, eyes on the peculiar box. “This it?”

“Sure looks that way,” Applejack grunted, getting over her shock.

Rainbow cocked her head, clearly looking disappointed. “Huh… I was kinda picturing something… cooler. Not that a block of wood isn’t… uh… neat, I guess…”

Rainbow turned towards Applejack, looking questioning. “I’m missing something, right? Tell me I’m missing something, cuz that looks an awful lot like a block with handles.”

Applejack frowned at the thing. “Sure looks that way ta me, sugarcube. But Hyacinth had it hidden for a reason, so there must be more to it. It’s gotta open somehow; we just gotta find the right trick.”

Silence reigned for a time. Both mares just stared at the box, letting the seconds tick by.

“… You’re out of ideas, huh?” Rainbow asked, which only served to irritate Applejack more.

“No, Ah ain’t,” Applejack snapped defensively, “Just… runnin’ low on inspiration.”

Rainbow glanced at her, then back at the box. “Here, let me try.”

Applejack merely grunted and gestured; ‘have at it’.

With that nonverbal signal, Rainbow picked herself up and moved forward, frowning at the box.

Applejack was hardly hopeful. Rainbow was many things, but her capacity as a problem solver was, decidedly, limited. If she couldn’t out-fly, out-punch or out-buck her way through a situation, there probably wasn’t much else she could bring to the plate.

For her part, Rainbow approached the problem seriously. She moved closer, taking in the object’s dimensions carefully. She tugged on one of the handles, tried to lift one in every direction she could think of. She inspected it all over, not taking anything to chance.

Applejack had to fight back a smirk. She could practically hear Rainbow thinking to herself; what would Daring Do do?

But ultimately, when everything else failed, she resorted to the tried and true method; she raised one hoof, and smacked it down on top of the box.

Two things happened in rapid succession the instant her hoof touched the wood.

The moment she made contact, Rainbow suddenly let out a startled yowl, her body tensing so hard it spasmed as every muscle went rigid.

Second, and almost lost to Applejack, came the faintest, most delicate click.

“Rainbow!” Applejack gasped, jumping up in alarm.

Rainbow’s eyes were wide open, her teeth gnashed together. Her only response was a strained whine. “Get… it… off…!”

Applejack shot forward, slamming her hooves against Rainbow’s side in a desperate attempt to get the pegasus away from whatever trap she’d triggered.

She was a millimeter away when all of a sudden Rainbow jerked back. Her wings flared open in an instinctive attempt to get away. A split second later, they were toppling to the floor in a heap.

“Ow ow ow,” Rainbow hissed. Her body was unusually hot against Applejack’s skin, and there was the strangest smell of ozone in the air. She trembled and shook, the hoof she’d used to strike the box worst of all. Static tickled at Applejack’s hide, like Rainbow’s fur had become charged with something that wasn’t actually electrical.

“Rainbow! Are ya alright?” Applejack said hastily, jumping up.

Rainbow was shuddering fitfully, blinking over and over as she tried to catch her breath. Her mouth worked for a second, she blinked hard, then her expression snarled up in pain. “Y-yeah… n-never better, cowgirl. I do this all the… all the time. Just... another day being awesome...”

Applejack sighed, nearly falling over from the force of her relief. “Landsakes… don’t scare me like that.” 

Rainbow sat up with some difficulty, rubbing her hoof tenderly. It didn’t seem to be injured in any way; there wasn’t a single hair out of place. Applejack had been sure to check and double check, but it didn’t seem to be hurt. Yet Rainbow kept rubbing it like she’d jarred a nerve.

“I don’t know what that was, but let’s not do that again,” Rainbow said, still grimacing. “Feels like my foreleg’s gone numb or something…”

Applejack scanned her up and down, her hoof still hovering around Rainbow’s shoulder. “Ya sure ya’ll be alright?”

Rainbow gave her a look, flashing an unauthentic smile. “You ain’t losing me that easy, AJ.”

Applejack sighed, plopping down next to her. The tension ran out of her as she sagged. All she paid attention to was the sensation of warm feather tips moving lightly against her side.

“So, I’m going to assume that didn’t work,” Rainbow grumbled sourly, stilling ringing out her hoof.

“’Fraid not, sugarcube,” Applejack said glumly, looked up… and stared.

“Okay, so, no hitting it,” Rainbow said, looking down thoughtfully. “There must be something… Uh, Applejack?”

Rainbow had just looked up and noticed Applejack staring off to one side with an unusually wide-eyed stare. Confused, she followed her gaze – and quickly discovered why.

What had once been a featureless wooden square now had an ornate black latch, and a very obvious metallic border that ran its length; the lip of a lid.

Black curls of smoke still hung in the air. Emerald sparks crackled along its surface weakly, emitting the last few sparks of a waning spell.

Singed into the wood right over the lock itself was a sigil that still sizzled, as if freshly scorched. Much of the detailing was lost in the burn marks, but Applejack thought she could just make out two sweeping shapes that looked a little too much like a pair of unfurled wings.

It was that final piece that made it all click in Applejack’s head. Something changelings would not think of, and yet something Applejack herself would have access to…

She looked towards Rainbow, who was still massaging her hoof and staring daggers at the smoking footlocker.

Whether the key had been pony magic in general, or a more specific kind, one thing was certain. Hyacinth really had thought of everything…

Rainbow glanced at Applejack, realized she was gawking at her, and immediately set her hoof down like it no longer so much as tingled. “Uh, yeah… I’ll just go ahead and take credit for that.”

She then leaned over slightly in Applejack’s direction. “So… you're welcome.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, then turned around. “Come on, sugarcube. Let’s get a look at whatever Hyacinth’s been hidin’ before we go pattin’ ourselves on the back.”


~~***~~


Murmuring Mire had fallen unusually quiet. No birds cawed through the trees, no frogs sang in the reeds. Even the wind had died down, leaving everything motionless and steamy.

All at once, a commotion; a tree shuddered, followed by a frenzy of hissing and squealing… then silence.

A shadow darted from one patch of bramble to another, hardly making a whisper of sound. Another flickered from one stand of fronds to a hollow log, quick as a flash.

Another outbreak of furious spitting and savage snarling. Silence.

This is how changelings did battle. No ranks of soldiers, no battle formations or troop maneuvers. No clash of swords or bodies and no battle cries that rang through the trees. It was quiet, subtle and savagely quick, like spiders dueling in the underbrush. It was like a game of hide and seek, only with lethal consequences for the loser. Somepony could wander right through the warzone and never once suspect a thing.

Antlion sat poised in his hiding spot beneath heavy curtains of hanging moss, all of his senses keyed for the faintest hint of the enemy. With the wind died down, he didn’t have to worry about his scent giving his position away, but there were other ways to find a changeling hiding in a thicket.

He stalked forward, low and menacing as a prowling panther, listening, feeling, and careful not to disturb even the smallest of reaching branches.

Magic vibrated in the air. Drones were sending out invisible pulses from every direction, hoping to get lucky and ping off of a would-be ambusher. That is, if the pulses weren’t traced back to their source first and the caster was stupid enough to remain stationary afterwards.

Antlion wasn’t concerned of that happening to his comrades. They’d been trained well. They knew what they were doing. He had a good idea of where the proverbial line in the sand had been drawn and could guess with relative confidence where the majority of his troops were. But in the silence, nothing was certain.

A commotion overhead. The tree directly above him started shaking violently as one drone pounced on another. One shrieked, obviously trying to get away, but his attacker was already on him.

Antlion snapped his head up, looking for a cloak to denote who was winning. Unfortunately, he got more than he was bargaining for when both combatants fell bodily from the tree in a ball of fury.

But he didn’t panic or rush to action. Antlion quickly and quietly slipped backwards and looped around the side of a twisted tree before his position could be given away, silent as a shadow. He was waiting. Timing was everything…

The two drones continued to brawl on the ground in a tangle of limbs and lashing fangs, a cloak wrapped bodily around them both. Neither was keen on letting the other bring their horn to bear; spells aside, the wicked point on the end would make for a decisive punctuation to the skirmish.

Neither let the other go, for fear of letting them gain distance. As soon as one tried to break away and disengage, the other clamped down hard on his hoof and dragged him back, only to catch a flailing hoof to the face which almost dislodged him entirely.

There was no finesse in their tactics. They were in too much of a panic to bother. Hooves milled, teeth flashed and wings buzzed angrily. Each was trying to end the battle as quickly as possible, caught between the burning need to end the threat they were confronted with and their instincts screaming at them to get back into hiding before something worse fell on them. Each knew all-too well that they’d undoubtedly attracted way too much attention; attention that was just waiting for a clear shot at either of them. For a changeling combatant, this was the worst-case scenario.

Finally, one of the drones flipped over on his back, and bucked his hind legs as hard as he could. Antlion could hear the wind fly out of the other’s lungs as he was launched back a few feet, cloak rippling behind him like a comet tail.

Antlion tensed, but he didn’t watch the drone skid once on his shoulder, then come up on all fours. His eyes turned up, just as the leaves over his comrade parted, revealing a fresh set of antagonistic fangs descending upon the cloaked drones unprotected neck.

Antlion sprang and plucked the descending changeling right out of the air by slamming his full weight into his side.

Both bashed against a tree, but Antlion recovered first. Still in the air, he grabbed the dazed drone’s foreleg, leveraged himself with his wings, and smashed him against another with a sickening crack before falling to the ground and vanishing into the underbrush.

Another drone pounced right where Antlion had been… but only found a dopey-eyed frog sitting on an exposed root.

The entire exchange took place within seconds, and once more Antlion was slipping back into the shadows, wary of every half-sound he heard.

The marsh was silent all over again, leaving no trace of the two combatants. Once more, Antlion settled down once he was confident he’d gotten to a safe distance and scoped out his surroundings with his senses. He couldn't worry himself over the well-being of his comrade just yet, but the question burned at him. Had he managed to fall back to safety? He'd never know until the enemy was driven off.

For a moment, Antlion tossed a concerned glance towards the mire. Through the foliage, he could just make out the base of the gigantic mushroom cap.

The hut was in no immediate danger. With all the open space between here and there, any drone trying to make a break for it would be shot down before it made it more than a few dozen feet. Some may know how to vanish into thin air, but that wouldn’t hide the sound of their beating wings, and only a fool would try to swim across those murky waters.

There was no telling how many more invaders there were to deal with, though, and they showed no signs of weakening. It would take time, possibly several hours even to rout them all. There was no way Queen Applejack would be preoccupied for that long, and no way to get a messenger to her to warn her of the danger, not without exposing his own forces to harm.

But what to do…

Something snapped overhead.

Too late, Antlion looked up, just as not one, but two drones unlatched from the underside of a tree branch and fell towards him, horns leading the way.

Antlion tensed, preparing to spring – when something truly massive whirled over his head, missed by the breadth of a baby hair, and cleaved a small grove in two in one brutal, smashing swipe.

Of the drones, Antlion would never know. Because at that moment, the air was filled with a deadly, menacing rattling sound, which proved much more worrying.

Antlion turned as a fresh wave of alarms went out. All pretenses of battle forgotten, drones were falling back like cockroaches under a light bulb, scuttling for the nearest cover as a terrible, guttural growl rent the air.

The changeling captain spotted the source of the rattling – a massive, six-foot-long collection of knobby bones covered in savage serrations, spasming and shaking violently to produce the sound of bone-on-bone.

That rattle was attached to a thick, sinuous tail covered in brutish scales caked with mud and the odd protruding stem of unidentifiable foliage. Only the rattler was showing its true color; gold, streaked with jagged lines of glossy black.

Something heavy hit the ground, causing Antlion to look around again – just as a powerful forearm blew past him from the other direction. It went right over his head and smashed a tree to splinters, scattering the drones hiding in its boughs.

A shadow passed over him as he ducked against the hailstorm of splinters; a massive body undulating through the air before slamming to earth again with a reverberating thud just off to his left.

Too late it occurred to Antlion that the attacks weren’t coming randomly. Whatever this creature was, it knew precisely where each and every one of them was. But how?

Flick… flick flick…

A chill ran up Antlion’s spine as he heard a sound like a whip swishing high overhead. He turned, still crouched down low in the underbrush.

Two yellow eyes stared right back as the creature began to growl a death threat right in Antlion’s exposed face.


~~***~~


Cautiously, Applejack approached the chest, eyes watchful. Smoke still hung in the air like a thin haze and filled the bedroom with the faint smell of char. 

The latch that had appeared looked like some kind of rose carved from two conjoining pieces of glassy black stone not unlike obsidian, only with a striking emerald hue that flashed in direct light.

Again her eyes went up to the wing-shaped burn on top, but only for a moment. Carefully, she reached out with a hoof, and after a moment of hesitation, pressed it to the latch.

It depressed with another stony click, and the lid came loose.

Applejack’s heart was in her throat now. Nerves and emotions swirled in an incomprehensible slurry inside of her, making it exceedingly difficult to maintain a stoic façade.

She hesitated, taking a second to steel her trembling nerves, inhaled a fresh lungful of air, and pushed.

The top of Hyacinth’s cache slid like the lid of a sarcophagus, producing a grinding sound more like stone-on-stone instead of wood-on-wood. With a surprisingly heavy thud, the lid toppled over onto the floor. 

And inside, nestled in a red velvet-lined hollow, three objects awaited her.

Dominating the cavity inside the box was a rectangular object wrapped in a dirty, tattered grey cloth. It barely fit at all, like it’d been wedged inside rather snuggly. The folds of the threadbare cloth all came together in its center, and was held together by a clasp made of a familiar glassy green substance clearly of changeling origin.

At its base, there were two smaller objects; envelopes by the looks of them that were lying face down in the container. One was fat and distended by whatever laid inside it. The other was virtually flat, like it contained nothing at all.

Applejack tore her eyes away from the odd assortment, glancing towards Rainbow. She flicked her eyes up towards her in return, expression composed yet expectant. “Well? What is it?” she asked.

Applejack looked back down. “Ah… don’t know,” she admitted. She’d been expecting something a little bit… grander, to be honest. But she was far from truly let down; merely thrown off. So many ideas of what to expect, politely thrown out the window with just a single glance.

Sensing the impatience of the one sitting next to her, Applejack reached one holey hoof forward and scooped up one of the envelopes – the fatter of the two.

She flipped it over – and immediately felt her heart miss a step. On the front was a single, beautifully penned line written in sweeping calligraphy.

To: My Daughter

Everything went dead quiet to Applejack. She just stared, eyes huge with shock. Rainbow might have said something – her voice registered in the back of Applejack’s head, but she wasn’t paying attention.

It was like her hooves were moving on their own. Applejack watched like some kind of spectator as they carefully flipped open the envelope, reached in, and pulled out a single piece of smooth paper as crisp as if it’d just come out of the mill. 

The same elegant writing covered it, each line precise as if penned by an expert hoof. But for all the expertise exercised in it, Applejack only noticed the words written for her.

Dear Applejack,

If you are reading this, then I was not the one to pass along my knowledge to you. There is so much I wish I could write to you about, so much you undoubtedly wish to know. But I am afraid that I do not have the lifetime necessary to tell you everything I dearly wish to.
But if you have found this letter, then it means that your time is short. But so long as you remain strong, there will always be hope. This I promise you with all my heart.
There is something here in Equestria, a power far greater than my cousin Phantasma yet realizes, and likely never will fully grasp. I have seen it for myself, and I know you soon will, too. I had hoped to unlock its secrets myself and save our kind from the darkness that consumes it, but I fear that is not my destiny. It is yours, Applejack.
I leave you my diary; the sole record of what I discovered here. It is all I can give you.

On the last line, Applejack noticed the jaggedness of the last five words, as if written by hooves that were steadily growing more and more shaky. When the writing picked up again, it was steady once more, but somehow Applejack knew it’d taken her mother some time before she’d started again.

Do not be afraid, my dear sweet Applejack. Whatever comes, whatever trials stand before you, remember that you will not be facing them alone.

Love, now and always,
Mama

PS: For the seventeen years I have missed saying it; happy birthday.

Applejack read the letter at least three times over, taking in every word, committing it all to memory. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet, but slowly it was; long ago, her mother’s hooves had touched this very piece of paper.

She’d never had anything of Carnation’s; only the sad memories shared with her by Hyacinth. But this… This was her hoofwriting. These were her words. And Applejack simply didn’t know what to think.

Something warm wrapped around her shoulders. It was amazing how gentle, and how firm feathers could be.

“Come on,” said the one sitting next to her softly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Applejack didn’t trust herself to speak. She just nodded, and with the utmost care, she folded the letter and replaced it back inside its envelope.

But as she did, her hoof encountered something small inside. Confused, she tipped the envelope over, and out fell a large key made of entwined twigs.

The end was woven into the shape of a small heart. One corner stuck out like a loose thread, ending with a full sized leaf still vibrant green and full of life, as if the wood was still alive somehow.

Applejack immediately recognized the shape of the leaf. She'd recognize it anywhere; the key was made from living apple wood.

“What’s that for?” Rainbow inquired, cocking her head to one side.

Applejack didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her attention towards the large, carefully wrapped parcel that dominated the box’s interior.

She reached out, and a part of her was pleased at how steady her hooves were. The clip binding the cloth together was pried loose, freeing Applejack to uncover what laid inside.

Inside the wrappings was a disconcertingly simple book bound in plain leather. It’s cover was scuffed and scratched and discolored from a myriad of stains, hinting at a long life filled with abuse. The only feature; a bulky clasp made of more ironwood that looked far less worn. Something was carved into the surface of the solid front plate – a complex design Applejack somehow doubted was purely cosmetic. And at its heart was a keyhole.

“Guess that answers that question,” Applejack commented.

Rainbow glanced at the key, then towards the book, then back to Applejack.

The young queen had on her thick skin again, it appeared. She was composed, her expression a mask of stony determination. She looked at the key resting in her hoof, quiet for a long, long time. Then, she tightened her grip around it. Her eyes flashed as she looked up sharply.

She tossed the key and envelope straight up into the air, and in a flash, her body burst with emerald light.

Rainbow recoiled instinctively as Applejack reappeared a split second later, once more wearing her more familiar orange coat and blonde mane, her crown disguised once more as a Stetson.

A moment later, the letter fell back into her hoof, the key dropped neatly into that, and with a swift motion, Applejack lifted her hat and stowed the envelope and its contents away in its brim.

“Alright, sugarcube,” Applejack said, standing up. “Let’s get outta here, before them Court pests find us.”

“On it,” Rainbow said quickly. She shot forward and scooped up the diary in her hooves. After all, of the two of them, she still had her saddlebags.

Rainbow was just starting to turn back around when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. There was another letter placed within the box, she realized, overlooked until then.

She turned, about to say something, only to see Applejack’s tail swishing out of the room.

Frowning to herself, Rainbow picked it up and turned it over curiously.

Right away, she knew this letter wasn’t penned by Carnation. The words scrawled across the front were simple and efficient, and nothing more.

To whom it may concern

She cocked her head to one side. Another glance was thrown over her shoulder, but by then she really was alone in Nana’s bedroom. She glanced back at the letter, then carefully flipped it open. What could it hurt?

Inside was a small piece of paper that contained only a few lines.

Stay with her. No matter what happens to Applejack, no matter what she might turn into, never leave her side.
She can't succeed without you. 

Rainbow stared at the letter, blinked, then unceremoniously tossed it back into the box from whence it came.

As if she needed to be told what she already intended to do.


~~***~~


Rainbow exited the bedroom to find Bumblebee, Agave and Applejack all grouped up in the cramped living room. Pinkie Pie was still manning the kitchen, but her attention kept flitting towards the nearby window for some reason.

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Applejack was saying. “Bumblebee, do ya think y’all can get us to the district from here?”

Bumblebee gave her a very dubious look. “Not in one tunnel spell. But… but I think I can, if we go in groups.”

Applejack smiled. “I know ya can. Ya got more talent with that sort of magic than most everyone Ah know. I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but if Ah didn’t think y’all could do it, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Bumblebee lowered her head, scarlet clashing with her black chitin. “O-o-oh dear, um… thank you. Oh, and maybe we should bring Nana with us?” she offered. “She really shouldn’t be staying out here by herself. Just a thought.”

“Nonsense,” Nana chimed in, once more rocking in her chair. “I’m doing just fine here, dearie. Why, Hyacinth was just in the other day. Something about a wedding in Canterlot.”

Bumblebee gave Applejack an apprehensive look. “I’ll talk to her I guess. Oh, a-and about earlier…”

“It’s alright, Bumblebee,” Applejack said firmly, offering a smile. “One thing at a time. We’ll talk about it back home.”

Bumblebee gave her a relieved smile, nodding. “Okay, then…”

“Um, girls?” called Pinkie all of a sudden, “We may have a teensy, weensy, itty bitty problem.”

Everyone turned and found her squishing her face up against the glass of the window while standing on the counter. “Not now Pinkie,” Rainbow shot. “We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

“You sure?” Pinkie asked. There was something in her voice, something that caught Applejack’s attention.

Rainbow didn’t seem to notice. She just rolled her eyes, turning back to Applejack. “Positive.”

And that was the exact moment when the whole cottage shook with the force of a tremendous roar.

“… How about now?” Pinkie squeaked.

Rainbow stared wide eyed over her shoulder, then slowly turned back towards Applejack. “Um… we may have a problem,” she reported.


~~***~~


The whole forest was filled with noisy, pestering black things. It could smell them, thinking they were being sneaky like the black things always did.

But they were not the black thing with the lancing fire. These were stupid black things. It kept finding them, but every time it smashed away their hiding spots, they just scurried off to new ones, and it would find them again. It would be amusing, but it wasn’t in the mood.

And they had the lancing fire, too. Green, painful, not like normal fire, no no. This was bad fire that hurt down to the bone like teeth, but left no marks. It didn’t like that fire. It made it so mad.

But the black thing with the long second skin… so annoying, so slippery. He kept coming back, jabbing the pain fire at it, then running away. So very infuriating.

It chased him for a while, but he was so slippery. It could have sworn it had him that time, but when it checked its claws, they were empty. Always empty. Such a slippery little black thing…

But then it realized what the sneaky little black thing was doing! It turned around, and sure enough, the water was so far away now.

They were trying to get it to leave! They ALL were! No, no, this would not stand!

It twisted itself back around, doubling up on itself before surging back the way it’d come, back towards the annoying, thieving black things. It tore back through the forest, thundering and shrieking its ire the whole way.


~~***~~


Antlion panted and wheezed, but he could only watch helplessly as the titanic form barreled away from him, toppling full sized trees like dominoes.

He had to keep it distracted while everyone retreated to safety; they weren’t outfitted to deal with a threat of that magnitude. They had to get Queen Applejack away from that thing, but he needed more time!

Antlion tried to turn, but pain shot through him. Stars popped in front of his eyes as his foreleg clinked like glass against the stump beneath him.

He could barely walk – could barely see straight through the pain – but he refused to cave.

Queen Applejack was still out there, directly in the path of the rampaging beast. And Antlion still had two perfectly good wings and zero excuses not to use them.


~~***~~


Rainbow, Pinkie Pie, Applejack and Bumblebee all crowded around the window in Nana’s living room while Agave peeked over their shoulders.  Each peered through the grimy glass, looking for anything that might have been the owner of that terrific roar. So far, they were finding nothing. But there were a lot of panicked birds abandoning roosts in the distance.

“What the hay was that?” Rainbow asked aloud.

“Oh pay her no mind,” placated Nana from somewhere behind them. “That’s only Belle. She must be making a fuss because Hyacinth hasn’t been around to play with her in a while.”

Rainbow and Applejack exchanged a horrified look. “Belle?” Rainbow repeated in sheer disbelief.

“Why yes, dearie,” Nana said, smiling kindly from her rocking chair. “Hyacinth has me look after her while she’s gone. The two of them would play for hours outside sometimes. She must be feeling lonely, that’s all.”

Nana looked up towards the window, squinting as if she was trying to see out it. “She keeps me safe here, you know. All those bad folks wandering through Her Highness’s territory these days, feh…”

Another trumpeting bellow shook dust from the rafters, followed by what Applejack thought sounded unsettlingly like an explosion of some sort.

“Just you wait and see, dearie,” Nana said confidently, “she’ll settle right down in a few moments. She just has to express herself. Come to think of it, she’s been pretty lively for a while now… Must be the heat; she never did like it too much.”

Rainbow and Applejack exchanged another look. Somehow, they seriously doubted whatever was raising tartaurus outside wasn’t nearly as benign as Nana made it sound.

Even Bumblebee glanced over her shoulder uncomfortably. “Um… Nana, I don’t mean to be… uh, that pony, but… you do know balaur make horrible house pets, right?”

“A what?” Rainbow asked. 

“Of course!” Nana replied, sounding slightly affronted. “That’s why she stays outdoors. She likes the fresh air too much.”

“Seriously,” Rainbow griped, starting to lose her temper. “What the hay is a balaur.”

She wasn’t looking at Applejack. If she had been, she might have noticed how pale she’d turned. Landsakes… the spittin’ Zecora warned us about, that word Bumblebee was mouthin’… All them crystal trees… why didn’t Ah put two and two together?!

“That, sugarcube,” Applejack said, and her tone drew Rainbow’s attention, “is a whole heap of trouble.”

Rainbow gauged Applejack carefully. She’d picked up on the tone her friend had used, and Applejack’s expression matched. Applejack straightened up. She wasn’t panicking – not yet. But just by the set of her jaw, Rainbow knew how serious the situation was.

“RD, Pinkie, everyone, We’re leavin’ right now.”

Rainbow didn’t question her. She only darted around Applejack and went to the window, watchful as a hawk.

“Pinkie,” Applejack started.

“On it!” Pinkie stated, and immediately made a beeline for the kitchen and the tray of piping hot cookies still cooling on the counter. Roughly two thirds disappeared inexplicably into her mane without a trace. The rest were sacrificed to her hungry belly.

“Mission accomplished, sir!” Pinkie reported with a crisp salute, looking dead serious. It involved the preservation of cookies, after all.

Applejack blinked, then let it drop. “Uh… good job,” she said awkwardly, then turned towards the other set of eyes watching her apprehensively.

“W-what are we going to do?” Agave asked timidly. “Wouldn’t we be safer in here?”

Applejack weighed her options for a moment. “Well, we sure as hay didn’t wake up… er… Belle. So that means there’s someone else out there.”

Bumblebee’s eyes grew bigger. “The Court’s drones.”

“Eeyup,” Applejack said grimly.

Belle let out another resounding cry, followed by a distant crash. She was getting closer, fast, and she sounded all kinds of angry.

Applejack had never seen a balaur in person before… but she’d heard stories; none of them particularly good. And that one sounded very, very big.

“Okay, same plan as before,” Applejack said quickly. She turned towards Bumblebee. “Get Agave, Nana and Pinkie as far from here as ya can and make for the district. We’ll regroup there.”

“Oh don’t you worry about me, dearie,” Nana chuckled. “I’m quite comfortable here. But thank you for checking up on me.” 

“Nana,” Applejack started, then checked herself. Deep breaths, sugarcube, calm down. Now ain’t the time ta be losin’ yer temper…

Bumblebee glanced at her, then over her shoulder, then back towards Applejack. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her,” she promised again.

Applejack nodded. “Alright. If ya get Nana out, the rest of us’ll find Antlion. He's bound ta be around here somewhere, and Ah'm sure he'd be only too happy ta get us ta safety.”

"Or," Rainbow offered with a slight edge to her voice, "we could give Sir Roarsalot the beating of its life."

Applejack didn't even take a moment to consider that hairbrained option. "Not if ya value all yer limbs," she quipped, "Trust me, sugarcube; an angry balaur makes dragons look like pussycats."

She paused, and glanced to one side. “Agave? Yer goin' with Bumblebee first.”

Agave frowned at her, even more anxious than before. “But why?”

“Because the Court wants ya just as bad as me,” she reminded her. “And Ah ain’t puttin’ no fillies in harm’s way if Ah can help it.”

Agave didn’t have anything to say back to that, though she looked less than willing.

“Can ya handle it?” Applejack asked, turning back to Bumblebee.

She looked dubious, and was nervously nibbling her lip. But she nodded all the same. “Y-yes, Applejack. I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

Applejack smiled and clapped her on the shoulder. Bumblebee didn’t seem to know how to process that, so she simply settled on forcing a smile.

“Question!” Pinkie suddenly piped up. She even raised her hoof.

“And that is?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m staying with you two,” she said simply.

Applejack gave her a bizarre look, hesitating. “Uh… Pinkie, that ain’t a question.”

“Oh. Uh… I’m staying with you two?” Pinkie tried again, emphasizing the question mark at the end.

“Pinkie,” Applejack started to argue.

The hut shaking interrupted her.

All six of them looked up as, with an explosive crash, the deck outside was pulverized as something enormous coiled its body around the flimsy house’s fungal foundation.

“Bumblebee,” Applejack said stiffly, “Any time now.”

She could hear the sharp inhale outside like a gale lashing the rickety roof.

And then Belle let out a tremendous trumpeting roar from directly over the hut. The concussive force of it shattered every window and made everyone – Nana included – clamp their hooves over their ears as the house shook.

It rattled the teeth in Applejack’s mouth. Even after it cut off, the ringing in her ears was deafening. She blinked, shaking her head to try to get rid of the doubles of everything she was seeing.

Her vision corrected – just as the walls began to buckle.

The lights from outside had disappeared, she realized. Something was pressing up against every window, blotting out the light from outside. The wood in the walls groaned, bowing inward dangerously as if it were being squeezed in a titanic vice.

“No! Bad Belle!” Scolded Nana, shouting at the top of her lungs at the ceiling. “Bad! Off! Off!”

It didn’t work. A stud in the wall behind Applejack snapped like a twig. Whole timber logs were cracking and splitting as the crushing force cinched tighter.

Applejack saw a blur of motion out of the corner of her eye, and turned just as Rainbow struck the door full force with her shoulder. She merely bounced off as if she’d body-slammed a concrete wall. Even the door was developing a crack right across the middle as it bent inward.

“Okay, this is bad,” Rainbow grunted after a second attempt.

Applejack spun on the spot, watching as every wall cracked and broke as they were constricted tighter and tighter. They were trapped, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing!

“Bumblebee!” Applejack called urgently. “It’s now or never!”

Something snapped in the roof – a loadbearing strut shattering under the force being exerted on it. As a consequence, the roof began to sag. Part of it came down in the kitchen, burying the sink in a pile of crumbling wood and dry rot

Applejack tore her eyes off the sight, turning desperately towards Bumblebee.

She was standing in place, legs splayed in a bracing stance. Her horn flared as bright as a lantern, burning bright green as she forced every ounce of strength she possessed into it. Her eyes were screwed together, a whine slipping past her clenched fangs.

“H-Hang on!” she called as the walls started to fail all around them. Her horn burst brighter, a cry escaping her lips. And then Applejack was falling into a ten foot wide hole that ripped open beneath her with a gush of green fire.

Darkness crushed down all around her, squeezing her so tightly it forced the breath right out of her lungs.

The pressing blackness was soon accompanied by a stifling silence as the opening above slammed shut – just as the hut imploded. Applejack only caught a glimpse of fractured walls crashing together over her head before it vanished. Then, she was only falling, breathless and struggling for air before –

Bang!

She was launched back into the open air, tossed like a ragdoll nearly six feet straight up. Cries and screams surrounded her, the world coming back to life all around her.

The next thing she knew, she was hitting the soggy ground hard, collapsing instantly.

The stench of the mire hit her full force, as did the sweltering heat that a light breeze did little to abate. She was back outside, which was a marked improvement over where she'd been before no matter the environment.

But as she sat up, any feeling of relief fell apart just as fast. Because in front of her stretched the open mire – and the massive shape coiled around the mushroom stalk in its middle.

It was immense, its body winding and coiling in a spiral around the stalk all the way up, where two broad and powerful forearms gripped the cap, savage talons digging deep into the white flesh of it. A single tightly cinched, muck-covered coil now rested where Nana’s hut once stood. Bits of timber jutted out where the thick body met in the middle before winding up… up… in a massive trunk of a neck hanging high overhead.

Belle the balaur let out another trumpeting roar that exploded over the mire like a thunderclap, posturing and slamming her claws against her perch. She left no doubt about whose domain they had so foolishly trespassed in as she displayed her dominance and power for all to see. Then, in one seamless flow of motion, she fell sideways into the mire, twisting and winding like a long line of rollercoaster cars back into the blind depths of the mire, vanishing from side after throwing a spray of muddy water nearly a hundred feet into the air.

“Ugh…”

Applejack whipped around, half expecting to find something else bearing down on them.

Behind her were the rest of the group. Agave was struggling to pull herself out of a bush, her hind legs kicking fitfully at the open air. Pinkie was hanging draped over a branch ten feet up, blinking in utter confusion at the predicament she found herself in.

Rainbow was five feet up, her hooves preoccupied with Nana, who looked just as shocked as the rest of them. Though whether she'd yet realized her house had been reduced to kindling was anypony's guess.

And on the ground behind her, she found Bumblebee, lying crumpled on the ground with a dazed look in her eyes. All she did was moan, try to right herself, and immediately fell over again.

“I… I did it,” she slurred, forcing herself to sit up. She pulled her mouth up into a dopy, drunken smile, but her eyes were so unfocused and bleary it was impossible to tell who she was smiling at, if anyone.

Applejack rushed over, catching her just as Bumblebee started to fall again. “S… sorry, Applejack,” Bumblebee mumbled. She looked so apologetic, even as her head lolled limply. “I… I got us as far as I could. Did… did I get everypony? Did I do good?”

Applejack gave her a smile. “Better than good, darlin’. Ya did great. We're all safe thanks ta you.”

“Great…,” Bumblebee echoed, like she’d never heard the word before. She smiled to herself. “I… I don’t feel so good. Can… Can I go home now? I think I… I think I need to lie down for a little while… All of this adventuring has... really worn me out...”

Applejack was opening her mouth to speak when Rainbow swooped down beside her. “Hey! Is Bumblebee okay?”

Applejack looked up. “She will be, but we need ta get her out of here, now.”

Agave pried herself free with a startled squeak, falling over backwards on her butt. Then she whirled around – and grew very pale.

“U-u-um… now sounds good,” she said, her voice shrill.

Applejack glanced at her, then turned around.

The mire was churning. A wave was rolling across the overgrown surface – a wave that was headed straight for them.

“Oh crabapples,” Applejack hissed, then turned her head up. “Any time, Antlion!”

They appeared out of nowhere. Drones in cloaks materialized seemingly from thin air, melting out of bushes and foliage without a sound.

“Your Highness,” one of them buzzed urgently, “You are in great danger here.”

“Ah kinda figured that out myself,” Applejack quipped dryly. “Get everypony out of here. It’s time we beat tracks.”

“Of course,” one said, but as he moved towards her, she immediately held up her hoof.

“Them first,” she ordered, pointing towards Nana, Bumblebee and Agave.

“Your Highness,” one objected, “I must insist –”

The ground quaking silenced his objection. All eyes looked up as a huge back broke the surface of the mire, revealing forward-facing hooked spines.

But it wasn’t coming straight at them. No, it angled off to the side, boring through mud and muck and uprooting at least a dozen trees as it made landfall.

A pair of massive claws propelled it forward, churning the earth as the body began to loop around, encircling the group in a prison nearly twenty feet across. Only, it was getting smaller by the second.

Applejack tossed the drone one commanding look. That was all he needed.

Emerald gushes of light burst in the dwindling clearing as first Bumblebee was pulled to safety, then a worried-looking Agave, followed a moment later by a still-confused Nana.

Ten feet across now. Through the mud caking Belle, Applejack could see the serrated scales jutting up and away from her body. She was like a slithering cheese grater the size of a freight train, and probably just as lethal to anything caught in her way.

Applejack had very few options left. Pinkie had just swung down onto the ground in a maneuver that would make any gymnast envious, but now she was trapped along with them in the shrinking circle. The drones were gone, and there was no telling when they'd get back.

Rainbow was right beside her, head down, ears flipped back, wings splayed threateningly. She refused to budge from Applejack’s side, and just one look told her no amount of words would convince her otherwise.

Six feet. 

Applejack did the only thing she could think of as a claw brushed dangerously close to Pinkie. Without thinking, she twisted around, cocked her legs like pistol hammers ready to fire, and lunged.


~~***~~


Belle felt the impact on its belly. Not pain-fire like the other black things used. This was something else, a new pain it wasn’t used to. Sharp, powerful. Not fangs or claws but similar. A blow? Yes, something had just struck her. Not with something sharp, but definitely a limb of some kind.

The black thing that was pretending not to be a black thing was fighting back. This surprised her very much; most black things just shot pain-fire and ran away. Like the rats when she was but a pup. She hated those rats and their hungry nipping. But she was not a pup, and they weren't as big as the rats were back then. Yet the black thing had struck out at her anyway.

This gave her pause. Incredulity and indignation rose in equal measure within her as she came to a halt.


~~***~~


Applejack noticed immediately when Belle came to a standstill the moment her hoof made contact with her side.

She knew she hadn’t done anything to it, though. It was like kicking a boulder; under the layer of mud and filth, Belle’s body was iron hard and unyielding. Even Applejack’s experienced bucking legs merely bounced off without shifting the monster’s bulk an inch.

But Belle had clearly felt it. She had paused, as if caught off guard by what it had felt.

A tense silence pounded in Applejack’s ears as she looked around. And then, to her relief, the coil began to widen. Belle’s massive tail pulled back, knocking aside a fallen tree and sending it flying.

But whatever relief she’d felt melted away when a tail tip rose out of the mud and began making the most ominous rattling sound Applejack had ever heard.

However, she was not expecting the second one.

All three ponies watched as another tail arched through the mud, lifted high over their heads, and started rattling in stereo with its twin.

Applejack felt the ground shift off to her right. She, Rainbow and Pinkie all turned as the mud and filth of the mire heaved upwards. Fat globs of soil and muck fell to earth as a great neck pulled itself up higher and higher, until a massive head breached the surface.

Two huge yellow eyes stared hatefully back at her from under high-ridged scaly brows as the puffy head of an enormous viper emerged into the open air.

Followed by another, and another, and another…

Applejack watched, fear gripping her heart as five sets of yellow eyes stared coldly back at her. Five sets of black tongues flicked at the air, scenting it silently. But only a single neck rose to tower over the trio.

All five heads were arrayed side by side along the same muscle-bound neck, all along the rim of a gigantic cobra’s hood. Applejack could see five throats, five thick columns of muscle and bone all contained within a tough membrane of skin and scale all uniting around Belle’s powerful shoulders and into a singular length of raw power that could be measured in tons.

Belle planted her two claws, oversized spurs digging deep into the soil as she reared up to her full, impressive height, all five sets of eyes staring down with the cold contemplative curiosity of a cat eying three trapped mice that it just couldn’t quite figure out what to do with yet.

And of course, Rainbow managed to sum it all up in one word.

“…Ponyfeathers…”
	
> Chapter 13: Fight of Flight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

Steel Shod sat restlessly in his office, motionless and tense. His hooves were steepled together in front of his muzzle, where they’d been for almost an hour now. The tips of his hooves lightly tapped together for sake of something to do. Aside from the loud ticking of a grandfather clock set against to the wall to his right, his hooves were the only thing that made noise, and the pendulum swinging back and forth was the only thing in the way of visual distractions, such as it was.

His office was big. Big, and very quiet. Normally, he liked it that way; the muteness of his working environment encouraged a speedy work ethic. He didn’t much care for all of this extra space, however. The high ceiling and wide open walls gave his office the air of a cathedral, something too pompous for any true Royal Guard officer. But he endured it without open complaint.

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

He sat still as a statue, waiting. All there was left to do now was wait, anyway. He began tapping one of his hind hooves restlessly, then forced it to stop. He just needed a little patience.

Tick… tock…

He was running out of patience.

At the same time, he reminded himself that the wheels of bureaucracy rushed for nopony. Of course, the Ponyville district court wasn’t exactly inundated with crime, so with any luck, any minute now…

A sharp knock rang out on the thick doors opposite his desk. After the silence, the sudden banging was almost jarring, and it was just what Steel Shod needed to get his senses about him again.

“Come in,” he barked, and the door swung open, revealing a lone guard. 

“Sir,” the stallion barked, “word just came back from town hall.”

Steel Shod needed only to glance at the piece of official-looking paper the stallion was offering to know what the verdict had been. “Judge Miranda Right would also like to inform you, and I’m quoting here,” the stallion went on, cleared his throat, and said, “that ‘you owe me big time’.”

Steel Shod had to fight not to roll his eyes. For all the reluctance and resistance he’d encountered, one would think he was trying to indict Princess Celestia herself, not conduct an investigation. Even an old friend like Miranda, who knew him so well, was acting like he was pulling teeth.

Granted, this particular investigation involved one of the princess’s pet projects, but somepony had to have the courage to pry into all of this secrecy surrounding the district. Changelings were liars and tricksters by nature, and yet they’d still been given virtual total autonomy overnight. Even the most optimistic soul had to see the error there, if not for the ones already present, but for the scheming minds who would exploit such a glaring weakness.

He was also starting to think that ponies forgot that, ultimately, the changeling district was still under his jurisdiction. He had a list of codes, official ordinances, regulations and even royal decrees that said so. As if so many with questionable affiliations in their midst would be allowed to police themselves. If the griffons turned around and offered an olive branch after all of the belligerence they’d committed against Equestria over the centuries, would they be given full and unrestricted access to Equestria without question as well? No, of course not. Nopony, not even Princess Celestia, was that foolish. So why changelings, of all things, were being given that very privilege with the same – if not worse – consequences on the line well and truly baffled Steel Shod.

Fortunately, enough voices in Canterlot had at least given him this much authority. At least some ponies with administrative power could see the catastrophe on the horizon like he could. Somepony could see what a mistake this was, just like he could.

For a moment, his eyes drifted down almost by themselves, away from the stallion and towards a small picture frame resting on the corner of his desk. It was the only personalization that existed in his work space. Steel Shod stared at it, a heavy knot cinching painfully tight in his chest.

He knew what kind of monsters those beasts could be, first hand…

He only lingered for a heartbeat, however. He had a job to do. Steel Shod swiftly rose from his chair, casting aside his train of thought as he grabbed his helmet off the desk as he passed it by, and made for the door.

“Round up your platoon,” he ordered the stallion, already marching purposefully down the long hall beyond his office. “We’re heading for the changeling district.”

The stallion hesitated, looking torn for a moment. “Um, sir… another communique arrived from Canterlot as well, just a few moments ago. It looks urgent.”

“It can wait,” Steel Shod dismissed. “This won’t take long.”

“But sir…”

“I gave you an order, soldier,” Steel Shod snapped.

The sharp tone of his voice was enough to snap the guard to attention hastily. “Y-yes sir. Right away, sir.”

The now-jittery guard turned and bolted the way he’d come, sprinting well ahead of Steel Shod to carry out his orders. In the back of his mind, however, he was starting to get a very bad feeling. He knew a full platoon was complete overkill for a simple inquiry. That is, unless Steel Shod was expecting a fight. 

As he moved, Steel Shod placed his helmet on his head, a grim scowl on his face as he shouldered a holstered spear. It was time to see just what ‘Her Highness’ was scheming behind everypony’s backs.

~~***~~

Applejack was running full tilt through the dense underbrush of Murmuring Mire, her hard breathing ringing in her ears. She utilized every advantage she could – jutting roots to leap off of, trees to circle around – everything she could think of to not get bogged down in the deep muck, but more importantly, to open up the distance between her and the five sets of bellowing maws racing after her.

Again she veered hard left, hitting a curved log to keep from skidding in the mud. That same log ceased to exist a split second later as Belle came plowing through the marsh like an out of control freight train, flattening everything in her path.

The balaur skidded on her belly, taking out another stand of trees with the trunk of her neck. Claws dug into the soft earth all the way up to her wrists, dislodging enough soil to form an artificial hill. Belle whirled her many heads around as two chomped through the rotten log like a celery stalk.

Applejack groaned to herself. The monster was fast for its size, and nimble to boot. Every attempt she made to get behind it had ultimately failed, and by now she was certain that Belle was on to her.

Sure enough, as Belle rounded on her again, all the while spitting out rotted wood pulp, Applejack saw her wind her two tails around her flanks, guarding two stalky hind legs behind a phalanx of unassailable scales.

Belle reared up, higher and higher, higher than the tallest tree for miles. Even her forelegs came off the ground, exposing her broad armor-plated chest. Most of the mud had been scraped away from her constant high speed slithering, lodging bits of reeds and javelin-like wooden slivers between dense carapace plates as thick as Applejack’s hind legs. For the first time, Applejack could see the creamy underscales hit the light, gleaming like polished stones.

Four sets of yellow eyes glanced about, checking their surroundings. Only one of the five heads stayed riveted on Applejack far below.

Something rustled to Applejack’s right, catching her attention. As the bush exploded, she sprang straight up, neatly avoiding a black missile as it came flying at her, only to pass harmlessly beneath her.

As if she didn’t have enough to deal with from Belle…

She knew what her sudden move would illicit, too. Applejack glanced up as Belle exploded forward, throwing the impressive length of her neck forward like a striking cobra, mouths agape.

But again, all they closed on was wet dirt. Applejack heard the rush of air as Rainbow streaked passed, caught her under each arm, and tore off low over the mire.

“Not that this isn’t fun or anything,” Rainbow drawled in her ear, “but please tell me you have a plan or something.”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow, all the while pressing her Stetson to her head. “What’s the matter, RD? Get tired of bangin’ yer head against a wall?”

Rainbow pulled a face. “Yeah, a wall that bites back. Seriously, how hard are those scales?! That thing’s totally cheating.”

Applejack cracked a wry grin. “We just gotta buy some time while everyone gets outta here. Ah hate ta say it, but we don’t got anythin’ ta match that thing with.”

Rainbow grumbled discontentedly at that. “I could totally take it… but you might have a point,” she added, noticing the hard look Applejack gave her. “Can’t you just blow it away or something, like you did Vigil?”

Applejack frowned deeply at that. “Rainbow… Ah don’t know what loosin’ that much magic in one go will do ta me right now.”

“Right, right,” Rainbow said quickly, shaking her head as if trying to fling loose bad memories. “Forget I said anything. But what are we supposed to do about Belle? What did we even do to tick her off so much?”

Applejack looked down seriously. Rainbow, she realized, was swooping low over the bog, winding in and out of trees in a lazy circle. All the while, a gigantic, fully grown balaur was giving chase. She wasn’t quite matching Rainbow’s speed, but she was taking advantage of the curve of her arc to turn inside of her path, negating whatever speed advantage Rainbow had over her.

Rainbow must have realized it as well, because she started pumping her wings even faster and banked in the opposite direction. Belle gave her an annoyed bellow from behind, but didn’t give up the pursuit, even as the gap between them widened.

Applejack could see her smashing through foliage and underbrush with reckless abandon, ejecting at least a dozen changelings from their hiding places. And yet, she stayed dead focused on them. Applejack was still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.

“There’s only a few reasons why a balaur that size would get this riled up,” Applejack shouted over the jet stream Rainbow was starting to carve through the sky. Applejack clutched her hat tighter to her head, just in case. “Either A: she inhaled a Porky Pine, and now it’s lodged somethin’ fierce in her throat or B: she caught sight o’ somethin’ maroon – best not ta ask – or C: she’s got a whole nest full of eggs ‘round here somewhere, and we’re headed straight for ‘em.”

“A nest?” Rainbow echoed, surprised.

“Yep. If she’s been layin’ eggs all day long, Ah reckon she’s gonna be both mighty sore and mighty irritable about now.”

Belle roared, interrupting her. Even as fast as Rainbow was going, with the wind rushing in Applejack’s ears, she could still hear the impressive boom of Belle’s thunderous voice crash against her eardrums. “There has to be something we can do besides running like a bunch of scaredyfoals,” Rainbow snapped in frustration. “You seem to know a lot about these things. They have to have a weak spot, right?”

Applejack averted her gaze. “Not unless ya got a bagpipe, some pliers and a couple bushels of Mellow Mallow.”

“Bushels of what?”

“My point exactly.”

Rainbow wanted to scratch her head in confusion, but her hooves were currently preoccupied with hanging onto Applejack. “So then… we’ve got nothing.”

“’Fraid not, sugarcube,” Applejack sighed. “Belle’s just too big and too ornery.”

Rainbow frowned to herself. Too big? Too ornery? As far as Rainbow was concerned, there were no such words in her dictionary.

“Well then, I guess it’s time for me to save the day,” Rainbow surmised. She banked inwards sharply as she shored up her turning arc. Belle observed this with suspicion, slowly down.

Applejack, however, had caught on to Rainbow’s choice of words.

“Ya mean ‘we’,” she said pointedly.

“No,” Rainbow countered even more pointedly, “I mean me.”

Before Applejack could object, Rainbow dropped her in the one place she knew would keep her preoccupied for a while – right at the top of a very tall tree. She paused only for a moment before racing off again.

“Dagnabit, Rainbow! Get back here! Rainbow!”

Dash winced to herself as she sped away. Oh, Applejack was going to be livid, but it really was the only way. Of the two of them, Rainbow was the only one not currently in the process of breaking apart from the inside out in order to emerge as a full grown queen devoid of empathy.

… Still trying to wrap my head around that one…

Bottom line; in Rainbow’s book, that meant AJ was hardly up to her usual monster-busting form. She was weary, and Rainbow was worried enough about her without some giant beast trying to gobble her up at the same time. So that left the heroics up to her. Hopefully Applejack would see that and forgive her.

~~***~~

Applejack would never forgive that rainbow-colored nag streaking away from her, leaving her stranded high atop an ancient, moss-covered skeleton of a tree. While some part of her plotted its fiery revenge, she looked down and tried to find a way to scale the many branches back to the ground.

“Dang blasted Rainbow and her dang blasted…” she growled to herself, shimmying down to her first foothold. “When Ah get my hooves on you… Riskin’ yer neck for no good reason…”

She cast her eyes up, towards the distant shape of the balaur. Well, it wasn’t so distant anymore, she realized. Instead of being over a football field away, Belle was carving her way through the woodland like a great, animate river of scales. She was so close that Applejack could see the hateful yellow eyes peering through caked on mud at her, tongues flicking irritably. And there was Applejack, a good thirty feet up in the air, trapped in a tree.

“… Ponyfeathers.”

Something caught Belle’s attention, making her hesitate. She reared her heads up, pulling up short, and twisted in one direction – just as Rainbow blew over her again.

Belle twisted the other way, looking for the source of that sound – and promptly caught a hoof right on the end of her center-most snout.

“How about picking on somepony your own size!?” Rainbow challenged valiantly, her hoof buried up to her ankle in mud and picked up detritus.

Unfortunately for her, Belle merely gave her five thoroughly unamused glares. “Uh… this is the part where you reel back in pain,” Rainbow prompted, looking troubled now.

Belle started to growl. She wasn’t reeling.

“Or… not,” Rainbow squeaked. “That’s, uh, cooltoobye!” And off she shot, just as Belle snapped at her and gave chase. A ways away, Applejack groaned into her hoof. For once – for once! – she’d just like something to not blow up in her face!

And then Pinkie got involved.

“HEEEEYY!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs – through a megaphone aimed through an even bigger megaphone. There she stood on a rotten old stump, reared up on her hind legs… waving a matador’s cape. “ No sé lo que estoy diciendo!!!” she taunted boldly, striking a valorous pose all the while.

So. This is what it’s like ta be Twilight, Applejack couldn’t but remark to herself in an odd moment of comprehension.

Despite the absolute ludicrousness of the situation, Pinkie’s actions at least caused Belle to pause out of sheer bewilderment. She didn’t seem to know what to make of the strange pink pony, or if this was some kind of threat, as ridiculous as that seemed.

Five tongues tested the air as she circled Pinkie, glaring warily. Pinkie just stayed upright on her hind legs, chest puffed out, a look of daring bravery plastered across her face. She waved her cape challengingly – a pitifully undersized cape, considering what it was supposed to be taunting. But as the two twirled and Pinkie turned her back on Applejack, she caught a glimpse of what laid in wait behind that cape.

“Pinkie! Wait!” Applejack shouted, but it was too late.

Infuriated by the tiny red flappy thing in the pink pony’s hooves, Belle lunged forward, throwing open her mouths wide.

Pinkie dove to one side. As she did, the string tied to her tail yanked the festive cannon parked right out of sight behind her cape, which promptly fired one deluxe party-grade munition of dubious legality in the Ponyville county area straight into Belle’s face.

Fireworks, confetti, streamers, one full sized triple decker wedding cake and about fifteen water balloons carrying payloads of Gummy’s favorite punch exploded in an impossible spray out the end of Pinkie’s cannon, straight into an open mouth bearing down on it.

Such was the force of all the party favor projectiles that Belle was blasted to a complete halt. Her gigantic body piled up like a collapsing accordion, her eyes wide as the middle-right head tried – and failed – to close its jaws passed full extension.

Belle reared back, throwing herself into the air. Her claws slashed through the air as she bellowed in confusion and alarm. With four heads, at least; the other merely moaned around the payload stoppering up her maw, a look of utter confusion and mild panic on that head’s face.

“Yeah! Wait to go, Pinkie!” Rainbow cheered from overhead.

“How do you like them apples!” Pinkie cheered back, dancing in place. Then she paused. “Or… frosting. Yeah! How do you like them frostings!... and streamers. And bunting! Yeah, how do you like them frostings and streamers and buntings!... No, it doesn’t have the same ring to it…”

“If y’all are done celebratin’,” Applejack shouted at them from across the way, “RUN!”

Pinkie looked up, pulling a face. “Why?” she asked, perplexed.

A big glob of mucus fell from the sky, only missing her by a tail-length. Belle wasn’t thrashing anymore. No, for some reason, she hanging in place, bristling with peaked fury. And what was more, she was drooling. 

“Ooooh,” Pinkie squeaked, “That’s why.” And then she bolted.

Belle reared back, all five mouths fall open wide as she let lose a spray of irridescent goo, all the while thrashing in every direction. The air was soon filled with flying globules ranging from rain drops all the way up to beach balls in size; a maelstrom of countless projectiles flying in every conceivable direction.

Applejack took shelter behind the trunk of the tree she was stuck in. Rainbow dove for cover in a heavily overgrown thicket. Pinkie jumped headfirst into a pool of muddy water.

None of them missed how the forest all around them started to change.

Applejack watched as wads of spit slammed into the tree branches all around her and swiftly melted into the bark. Within moments, that same bark began to develop the most disturbing sheen, as if coated with laminate.

Rainbow watched as leaves started to glitter prismatically, each small space between veins a different facet. In no time, it was like she was surrounded by actual emeralds in the shape of leafs. 

Pinkie watched with wide eyes from beneath the surface of her pool as cattails turned rigid and unbending, their surfaces hardening to a glassy consistency. Each stalk started to turn translucent, cold and lifeless. Whole lily pads capsized and sunk to the bottom, very nearly flattening Pinkie twice.

In under a half a minute, nearly a hundred yards of forest was rendered completely unrecognizable. Trees, bushes, grass – everything living stood motionlessly, glittering sinisterly with the myriad hues of gemstones under the sunlight.

Rainbow peeked through her cover – and about had a heart attack when she discovered a bird’s nest, its inhabitant frozen in place as a tiny sapphire sculpture, wings half opened.

Pinkie emerged from her hiding place, a petrified frog frozen in the act of jumping to safety balanced precariously on her head.

Applejack took a deep breath, then peered around the side of her trunk, to find an unnaturally curved wall of emerald hovering in front of her, shielding her. A moment later, it plummeted to earth, smashed against a rock and shattered into a thousand pieces with a sound like glass breaking.

All around, she found six changelings all clustered close to her, their horns glowing. “Are you alright, Your Highness?” one of the drones questioned, sounding out of breath. “Did any touch you?”

She turned towards the one that had spoken; a cloaked changeling perched on a branch like a hawk. "Antlion!" she gasped. Her relief, however, quickly turned to horror when she saw the stiff foreleg jutting unnaturally forward, ramrod straight. It glittered disturbingly, like a length of jet carved in the likeness of a foreleg, but as cold and lifeless as a rock. "Y-your leg!"

Antlion shook his head dismissively, but there was no way he could hide the tightness of his jaw or the beads of sweat on his forehead. "It stopped at my shoulder," he informed her. "I'll be fine."

Applejack knew he was lying for her sake. A small droplet wouldn’t be enough to crystalize somepony completely, but they'd most certainly notice the loss of a limb’s functionality.

Applejack had seen the kind of damage a balaur could inflict, long ago, when she was still little more than a filly. Some ponies had come bursting into the farmhouse. Her parents had ushered her and Big Mac away quickly, but Applejack would never forget the screams of pain she’d heard.

One of Granny Smith’s old bedtime stories had even been about how they’d lost an entire orchard to a hungry balaur. Dozens of apple trees, all turned to gems overnight. She’d tried to put a childish spin on the tale for Applejack’s sake, telling how the gemstones had paid off all sorts of loans and even bought them an extra ten acres for the eastern orchards. But the horror of all of those apple trees dying ended up just giving her some of the worst nightmares of her life.

Of course, seventy years later and the Apples were still living off of the royalties from the horde of gemstones they’d been given. All sorts of scholarly types loved them to pieces, even if pieces were all they got. But all of those apple trees…

“We need to fall back,” Antlion advised, snatching Applejack from her bad memories. “Right now, your safety must be our number one priority, and the Court's agents will undoubtedly try to take advantage of this creature's rampage to make an attempt on your life."

Applejack frowned to herself. It didn’t seem right just letting these changelings go, knowing the havoc they could unleash if left to their own devices. But she knew that was just her being bullheaded. A couple vandalizing drones wasn’t worth the risk being put on the ones around her. The evidence of the consequences was right in front of her, after all. It twisted her gut, but she couldn’t see any other way through their situation.

“Alright,” Applejack grunted, and immediately she had the keen attention of all six changelings. “Three of ya go get anyone left back to the district. The rest of ya, make sure the Court don’t try anythin’ while we’re gettin’ outta here.”

Immediately, however, six drones spotted a hole in her plan. “What about you, Your Highness?” one of them asked her.

Applejack’s expression screwed up. She really had to bite back snapping at them to not call her that, but after a moment, the desire passed. “Ah ain’t leavin’ my friends out here.”

The drones looked at one another, then scowled in determination. “Then, we’re not going anywhere, either.”

Applejack felt no need to stop her hoof from hitting herself in the face. “Ugh… Fine. Then, we’re gettin’ Rainbow and Pinkie and THEN we’re gettin’ outta here.” She then glanced at them from around her hoof. “Sound better?”

All of them stood up straighter, giving their best serious faces. “Yes, ma’am!”

Applejack nodded, then caught Antlion's eye. "Ya better take care of yerself, too. Get yerself back ta the district and we can see ta gettin' that leg treated."

Antlion nodded, even if with a little reluctance. He knew he was in no shape to fight, though his honor as a soldier protested vehemently. "As you say, Your Highness."

“Good,” Applejack sighed. Then she started to lean around the side of the tree, peering into the crystallized section of the bog. “We just gotta find ‘em before that there balaur starts actin’ up again. Where in tarnation did she get off to, anyway…?”

As Applejack leaned around the side of the tree and poked her head around it, she got her answer. Belle loomed not far off, shrouded in a mist of powdered crystal and noxious fumes.

Slowly, she arched her neck through the air, lifting herself high into the air as if stretching. As she did, great sheets of crystallized matter cracked and sloughed off of her body, taking with it huge globs of mud and muck.

And for the first time, Applejack could see her scales. She’d thrashed so much and so hard that even the matted on chunks of it had broken off of her neck, revealing a dazzling crimson coat of armor thicker than the sturdiest shields.

Through the remnants of crusted mud still clinging stubbornly to Belle’s hide, she could see the jagged black patterning that ran across her hood that streaked down her spine and all the way to the tip of her tail, beginning on the serrated brow over each eye. The markings were a clear warning; Belle was indeed in season, and she was all the more short-tempered for it. 

With one final crunch, Belle cleared the blockage in her mouth, shattering crystallized cake with a sound like a thousand panes of glass shattering. She rung out her head while the other four looked around, tongues flicking menacingly.

She paused, then swiftly rounded on Applejack all over again.

Belle forcefully planted her hefty fore-claws with a thunderous impact before inhaling a lungful of air and letting loose a terrific roar that hit Applejack like a sonic boom. 

Hinged fangs snapped forward as Belle literally swelled with fury; her muscles bulged and knotted, puffing her up visibly. Fangs the length of elephant tusks, curved and wicked with serrations along both sides, glistened in her mouth. The center-most head had a twin set of saber-like fangs big enough to skewer a dragon if need be. Applejack could only imagine what they’d do to something as soft as a pony.

Each neck swelled with inflamed muscles, making a broad neck even broader as Belle fanned her hood open wider. Her eyes zeroed in on her prey. Her body began to coil like a spring.

“We,” Applejack started once the last echo of Belle’s roar faded, “might want ta start runnin’. Now.”

~~***~~

Rainbow grunted as she kicked at a tangled branch made of chocolate diamonds, trying desperately to get it off. With everything frozen around her, the mess of branches and leaves she’d fallen into had stiffened into a prison that thought itself tough enough to restrain somepony as awesome as her.

Admittedly, it was doing a pretty good job.

“Urgh… ugh… Stupid… bush…!” Rainbow spat, trying to work her wings. One had become entangled in a vine when she’d dove into the thicket for cover. Part of it was still green and alive, but at least two loops around the middle of her wing were unyielding emerald gemstones that didn’t feel much like relinquishing her.

She continued to thrash, though. With each passing second, her panic rose even more. Applejack was still out there! She couldn’t just sit here like a useless lump! That’s not what awesome ponies did!

She’d left her in that tree, someplace she’d assumed she’d at least be out of the way. But if Rainbow wasn’t out there to save the day, who was going to save Applejack?

The thought ripped at her insides like a knife. Nopony would. The drones would try, certainly, but… she would fail. Again.

She’d watched Applejack get dragged away through a portal right in front of her as a barn burned down all around her. She’d watched as Vigil savagely struck down Hyacinth after throwing her off. She’d watched Applejack save her from a hailstorm of burning debris when it was supposed to be her protecting Applejack! She’d watched Applejack explode, for Celestia’s sake! And what had she done? Nothing. Every single time, she'd just let it happen. And now, it was all happening all over again. Applejack, in danger. And Rainbow? Twiddling her hooves like a useless lump.

Again.

No!

Belle’s roar split the air from not far off. It hit so hard that several of the glassy leaves around Rainbow snapped off from the sheer force of it pressing down on them. It hit so hard that even with her hooves clasped protectively over her ears, they were still left ringing.

Something hit her bush like a battering ram. Rainbow yelped as she was tossed through a maelstrom of broken crystal bits like some pony-shaped tomato in a dragon’s tossed salad.

When it all stopped again, Rainbow looked up to find a heavy crimson mirror looking back at her. She blinked, confused, until she noticed the many, many others alongside it. She wasn’t looking at a mirror; she was staring at the side of an immense serpentine body.

High about her, Belle’s twin rattlers filled the air with a deadly chattering as they swung over her head – and the nearest treetop, for that matter.

The next thing Rainbow noticed was the fact that she was free again. She looked down as the last glassy bit of vegetation dropped from her shoulders. Then, she was up on her hooves. She was free. She hadn’t let Applejack down yet. There was still time!

Rainbow turned – and immediately felt the bottom of her stomach fall out.

Belle hefted herself up higher, her forelimbs completely leaving the ground as she took aim, and proceeded to drop her gigantic body down on top of a a distant skeletal tree. A horribly familiar skeletal tree.

Applejack!

Without even thinking, she was moving at breakneck speeds, her wings blasting her low across the bog in a blur of motion. She had to get there, now!

But even with all her speed and desperation, all she could do was watch helplessly as Belle came crashing down on the tree, smashing it to wood pulp in one colossal blow that shook the earth.

The world seemed to go dead quiet. The only sound that rang in Rainbow’s ears was the snapping and cracking of the tree as it and everything in it was pulverized. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs screamed at her, burning for air, but she was too numb to inhale. Even her heart felt like it’d stopped. All she could do was stare in dawning horror.

Rainbow was about to scream the name on the tip of her tongue… when she noticed a flash of orange upon the monster’s back.

There, high above her! Applejack was skidding on two legs down the length of Belle’s spine, one hoof on her hat. She was alive, and aside from a cut on her cheek, she was unharmed.

Rainbow barely even noted the six changelings swooping after her like a swarm of disturbed ebon gnats. She didn’t comprehend the green streaks pelting from their horns as they barraged Belle’s heads with spell after spell, much to her fury. Rainbow had eyes only for the living miracle now sprinting down Belle’s ridgeline, even as it undulated and bucked underneath her, threatening to toss her off at any moment.

For a moment, her green eyes met a pair of violet ones, and instantly their owner knew what she was about to do; what she had to do to escape.

Rainbow snapped open her wings to feel extension and rolled, flipping over almost completely upside down as she approached Applejack from below. At the same time, Applejack took off her hat, bit down on the brim and the corner of a letter tucked safely inside, then after bending her knees, she vaulted off Belle’s side and into the open air. 

Right as Belle whirled her heads around to face them. She’d only caught sight of the two of them after she’d recoiled from another barrage of changeling fire, but now they had her undivided attention.

Applejack reached desperately through the air as Rainbow threw out her hooves for her as well, as five deadly maws bore down on them. Rainbow felt her hoof brush past something fuzzy on one side as the top jaw of a mouth came to overshadow her…

With an explosive crash, Belle slammed her jaws shut again. She landed face-first in the bog from the sheer momentum she’d accumulated, flipped end over end in an avalanche of tumbling scaly coils, then picked herself up again. Then, she swished a tongue around the inside of each mouth probingly, tasting around expectantly.

“Better luck next time, partner!”

Belle snarled as she whirled around, hateful eyes snapping straight towards an orange and blue shape clinging together high over her head.

Applejack had a death grip around Rainbow’s neck, her hind quarters hanging otherwise unsupported in open air. Rainbow, likewise, had her hooves latched under each of Applejack’s shoulders, keeping her supported while flying as high as she could get herself.

Belle roared and threw herself up at them, but to no avail. Her jaws snapped, her claws raked the air, but she simply couldn’t get enough elevation before she came crashing back down, flattening still more of the forest.

Applejack watched with an overwhelming sense of relief as Belle grew steadily smaller and smaller. Five heads continued to track their every move, but the only thing Belle could throw up to reach them was her furious voice.

“That… was close,” Rainbow said, heaving a huge sigh of relief.

“Yer tellin’ me,” Applejack muttered around a mouthful of Stetson and parchment, looking down at the irate balaur with only too much joy that she was down there and they were up here. “Nice catch.”

“Any time, bugbrain. Now hang on; I’m getting you the hay out of here right now.”

Applejack looked up, trying in vain to catch her friend’s eye questioningly. Rainbow just stayed determinedly turned the other way, away from her friend’s probing look.

After a short pause, Applejack gave up. “Ya know, home sounds mighty fine about now.”

“Good. Then let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”


~~***~~


Far below, in between a series of smooth boulders, a pair of blue eyes tracked the two soaring forms far overhead. They were so very exposed… so inviting for a little, shall we say… accident.

The changeling primed his horn, a malicious little smile forming on his lips as he took aim… when a hoof lightly touched his shoulder.

“No,” grunted someone behind him. “Let them go.”

The changeling whipped around, hissing in agitation, until he saw who was standing behind him. Then, with a grumble, he extinguished his horn. “The Queen of Queens would not want her to get away," he growled anyway.

Behind him, a grim-faced changeling glanced up at the sky. He watched the two streak away, swirling low hanging clouds as they sped into the distance. “No. The Queen of Queens would want to know what she’s after,” he said smoothly. “She risked a great deal coming out here herself. She might already be on the trail.”

The drone glanced back at him. “You mean…?”

The captain nodded seriously. “Keep an eye on her, see where she goes and what she learns. In the meantime, we have some business to –”

That was precisely the moment a pink blur came whizzing right between them, streaking at full speed in the opposite direction. “Tagyouritbye!”

The drones blinked, confused. An angry balaur snarling in their ear cleared that right up. The two drones turned, going ashen as they stared up at an absolutely livid Belle. 

On that day, they learned two very, very important lessons. Firstly, balaur eggs look uncannily like boulders. Secondly, balaur really do not like things messing with their nests, as Belle was oh so keen to demonstrate.

“…Meep…”


~~***~~


Rainbow cut through the sky like a bird freed from captivity. She was only too happy to leave all of that nastiness behind them as she carved a path through the sky, putting her wings through their paces for the first time all day. She only stopped once, and that was because having Applejack hanging off of her shoulders was starting to hurt her neck. So, after a brief pause, they took off again – this time with Applejack safely sitting on her back. Alive and, largely, unhurt. Yes, she’d call that a victory any day.

The whole time they flew, they remained silent, focused mostly on what they each had to do; one flew and the other hung on for dear life. However, as the dreary brown of Murmuring Mire gave way to lush green woodlands, Applejack finally rediscovered her voice.

“Ya know, ya surprised me,” she commented.

Rainbow glanced over her shoulder at her. “I do that. Anything specific?”

Applejack rolled her eyes, then said, “High tailin’ it in the opposite direction of a fight. That ain’t like ya.”

“Oh.”

The simple response was not what she’d been expecting. Applejack blinked at her, but Rainbow had turned the other way, hiding her expression. “I just… I-I thought Rose would be getting pretty worried about now, so I –ow!”

Applejack’s hoof upside Rainbow’s head cut her off. “Now try that again like an honest pony,” Applejack quipped with a wry grin.

Rainbow turned to fix her with a glare out of the corner of her eye. Then, she turned away stubbornly. “I just changed my mind. What’s the big deal? It’s not like I got worried about you getting hurt or something. So what do you think’s in that book thingy?”

Applejack raised her eyebrow at the back of Rainbow’s head. A part of her wanted to disregard the horrible attempt at changing the subject and get a real answer out of her. But then again, she could feel how tense Rainbow was; she was obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. So, with a reluctant sigh, she played along.

“Ah ain’t got a clue, but if Ma hid it, it’s worth somethin’.”

Rainbow nodded. “Well, we’ll be back at the district in no time. We’ll know for sure then. So rest up while you can; I get the feeling we’ve still got a long way to go.”

Applejack nodded and let her head fall wearily against Rainbow’s neck, much to the pegasus’ discomfort. She stiffened, but made no commented. All she did was trim her wings and pick up speed before Applejack asked her any more pesky questions.


~~***~~


From a distance, it was hard for Rainbow to tell when they began to close in on the district, and safety in turn. She’d made the flight over Ponyville so many times it was practically reflexive, so she at least knew what direction to orient herself.

It still took her by surprise when, all of a sudden, the trees in front of her dropped away into a shallow bowl filled with grasslands and wildflowers, only to pick up again a few hundred meters further ahead.

Rainbow very nearly blew straight over those trees without thinking twice… right up until she noticed the many black forms melting from the trees to greet them. The sight focused her attention, enough to notice the first traces of thatched roofs just on the other side of all of those towering tree tops. It was the only reason she didn’t immediately execute evasive maneuvers. Without even realizing it, she’d flown all the way back to Ponyville in less than an hour. Just further proof that wings beat hooves any day of the week.

“Hey, AJ,” Rainbow said, raising her voice for the first time in a while. “We’re here.”

Unexpectedly, Applejack jolted, snorting slightly as she raised her head. Had she actually dozed off on Rainbow’s back, even as fast as she’d been going?

“Huh? Already?” Applejack mumbled blearily. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze from her eyes. By the time she did, she noticed the many worried shapes darting straight for them, their chirping calls already audible over the wind.

“Applejack! Queen Applejack, you made it!”

“When we heard about what happened, we got so worried!”

“Are you hurt anywhere? AH! Your cheek! It’s bleeding!”

As Rainbow slowed, Applejack dimly reached up and patted her cheek. A spot stung in response to the contact, but not any worse than a paper cut might. A dried crust clung to her fur where the cut had bled slightly, but it was hardly a life-threatening injury by any stretch of the imagination.

And yet, the reaction she got from the changelings was all-too predictable. Immediately, half a dozen were crowding her and Rainbow, forcing the pegasus to a complete halt.

“Oh no, you’re injured!” one squealed. “Quick! We must get you medical attention right away!”

“Who did this to you, Your Highness?” one spoke up urgently, scowling ferociously. “Just say the word and we shall scour them from the face of Equestria!”

“Does it hurt? quick, how many hooves am I holding up? What day is today? Just hang on, Applejack!” another cried, all the while holding tightly to Applejack’s apathetic hoof.

“Hang on, everypony!” Yet another drone shouted all of a sudden, bringing silence to them all. “Stand back!”

Applejack looked around with mild irritation, ignoring the way Rainbow was shaking from suppressed laughter as a changeling cautiously approached, something in her hoof. “Please hold still, Applejack,” she advised, a look of pure concentration on her face. “I’ll take care of your wound.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She just held still as drones, murmuring in wonder and fascination, parted for the unnamed savior as she buzzed closer, and with the utmost care of a veteran surgeon… she applied the band-aid.

A collective sigh ran through the ranks as she backed away, her job completed flawlessly. There would be tales of this day and her bravery, for sure.

“Uh, thanks,” Applejack commented, touching the heart-patterned adhesive strip with a hoof.

“No need to thank me, Your Highness,” The drone said humbly, somehow achieving a bow midflight. “It was an honor.”

Rainbow was snickering uncontrollably now. The fact that she was managing to keep it down at all must have been some kind of miracle.


~~***~~


Considering the reception Applejack and Rainbow received as they descended through the heavy boughs of the enchanted trees towards the ground, one would assume they were conquering heroes returning from defending the realm from certain destruction. Cheers rang through the branches as changelings emerged from their hiding places all around the pair. Hooves clattered against wood in a resounding applause that, naturally, Rainbow couldn’t get enough of. She even waved as she descended, grinning ear to ear. Thankfully she managed to keep enough of her senses about her to not attempt any daring stunts for her audience, not with Applejack on her back.

Applejack did her best to smile and wave – whenever she felt brave enough to lift herself from Rainbow’s back – but she just felt awkward being the center of attention. They were blowing this whole thing completely out of proportion...

As they went, drones followed in a swirling mob as they neared the ground. And of course, down on the grass below, Applejack spotted Roseluck waited for them with a large smile.

“Sorry it took so long,” Rainbow said with bravado to spare as she alighted on the ground. A moment later, Applejack hopped from her back and landed next to her. She swept her hat from Rainbow’s back – where she’d been lying on it to keep it from getting blown away – and donned it once more after flapping it a couple times to get rid of the wrinkles.

“Welcome back, you two,” Roseluck said warmly, smiling. “How was your trip?”

Rainbow shrugged, of course. “Eh, you know. Nothing to get excited about. We had a couple faces walk into our hooves, no biggie.”

Roseluck raised a very questioning eyebrow at that and turned it to Applejack. “We heard about what happened in Murmuring Mire,” Roseluck said, her tone sobering up. “Bumblebee and Agave arrived a few minutes before you did.”

That kind of took some of the wind out of Rainbow’s sails. “Wait, they beat us here?” she questioned in shock.

Roseluck just gave her a look. “Some of the Inner Sect brought them here via tunneling spell. In fact, most of your entourage just barely made it back ahead of you two.”

Applejack glanced towards her, looking a little apprehensive. Roseluck answered the unspoken question with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Only a few have any real injuries, and we’re having them treated. Two are being given balaur anti-venom treatments, so they should be… um… softening up in a few hours.”

Applejack shivered nonetheless. “How's Antlion?" she asked.

Roseluck huffed, restraining a grin. "Stubborn. He'll be fine, but I doubt we'll be able to keep in in bed long enough for him to recover fully. That guy is devoted to his job to a fault, I swear..."

"And Bumblebee?” Applejack asked next. "How's she doing?"

Roseluck smiled, and in response, she glanced over her shoulder. There, some distance away, stood a drone indistinguishable from the rest who offered an awkward wave and a half-smile, looking apprehensive as always.

“She bounced back just fine,” Roseluck said. “It seems she’s found somepony who really cares about her, despite her best efforts.”

Bumblebee puffed out her cheeks indignantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Applejack, however, only smiled. “It’s good ta see ya back on yer hooves, Bumblebee.”

“Yeah,” put in Rainbow with a smile. “I never got the chance to thank you back there.”

If Bumblebee wasn’t uncomfortable before, she was now. Now she couldn’t even look any of them in the eye. “I-it was nothing, really. J-just doing my part, nothing fancy…”

Further discussion was cut off when another cry rang out across the now-packed square. Applejack and Rainbow both turned, just as a little grey pegasus filly came bounding up to them, smiling ear to ear.

“You two are alright!” Agave cheered, jumping at Rainbow and catching her in a hug. “I was so worried!”

“What, over some little lizard?” Rainbow scoffed, scooping her up in one hoof. “Pfft, I eat things like that for breakfast – on a slow day!”

“Good gravy,” Applejack grumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Oh!” Agave gasped with a smile, turning around, “And Nana’s here, too!”

For some reason, Applejack couldn’t help but notice the very sour look that crossed Roseluck’s usually composed expression. She didn’t pay attention to it for long, because behind her she found wizened old Nana slowly shuffling towards them on stiff legs.

“My, my, what a lovely park this is,” she was commenting, glancing around with a warm smile. “Oh, hello dear. Come to keep old Nana company?” she added, her eyes focusing on Applejack. Then, her nostrils flared as she sniffed. “Oooo, and who’s this little pretty following you, hmm? A little playmate, maybe?”

Applejack would never see how quickly Rainbow turned the other way, feigning deafness.

“I must thank you,” Roseluck said, her voice rather thorny, “for bringing dear old Nana back to us. I’ve missed her company so very much over these long years we’ve been apart.”

While Applejack raised an eyebrow at her, Nana cackled wheezily. “Oh Buttercup, I’ve missed you, too. I hope you’ve been keeping up on your studies, dearie.”

“Yes, Nana,” Roseluck said through a stiff smile. “Of course I have.”

“Buttercup?” Rainbow echoed. “Who’s Buttercup?”

“Absolutely no one,” Roseluck immediately responded with a sickly sweet smile. “Now how about we take this inside where we can talk – in private – and you can fill me in on the details of your adventures, hmm?”

Without waiting for an answer, she whipped around and quickly strode away, prompting Applejack and Rainbow to exchange curious looks and shrugs all round before following the swiftly departing mare.


~~***~~


Roseluck led the way all the way back to the Vivarium, ignorant of the crowd they were accumulating along the way. She didn’t say a word as they entered, climbed a spiral staircase, and trotted along a hallway to her office. Only then, once they had a pair of closed doors between them and the outside world, did she turn to regard Applejack and Rainbow.

She couldn’t help but also note the little shape of Agave, who was shadowing behind Rainbow like a lost filly. But Roseluck didn’t raise an objection to her presence as she sank into her seat.

“So,” Roseluck prompted, “how did it go?”

Rainbow was only too happy to explain. Applejack let her retell their foray into Murmuring Mire, though her expression screwed up every time Rainbow… embellished… a tad.

“So there we were,” Rainbow said, holding her hooves out dramatically, “Us against a whole legion of Court changelings. It must’ve been ten… no, twenty to one! And Queen Chrysalis was there, and – ow!”

She glared at Applejack, who met her gaze evenly. “Alright, sugarcube. Care ta tell what really happened? Before ya go and get everyone riled up over the Queen of Queens bein’ in Equestria again, when she ain’t?”

Rainbow folded her forelegs across her chest petulantly. “As far as you know…”

“Rainbow,” Applejack said warningly. That was a thought she really didn’t want to entertain right now.

Rainbow pouted at her. “Oh come on! My story was just getting good! I hadn’t even gotten to the fire-breathing dragons, yet!”

Applejack just rolled her eyes. “Can we just stick ta what actually happened?”

“Oh alright,” Rainbow sighed, sagging. Then she turned towards Roseluck with a disinterested expression. “We ran into Nana and found this book.” From her saddlebags, she produced the weathered and beaten tomb in question and dropped it unceremoniously onto Roseluck’s desk. “There was this big dragon thing, we ran away, and here we are. Any questions?”

Roseluck blinked. To have what was once a half-hour-long retelling boiled down to a few sentences kind of threw her off a little. “Just one,” she said. “Well… a few actually. You were saying that the Court’s agents intercepted you at the cottage?”

Applejack nodded, frowning. “Ah don’t know how many there were. Hard ta tell with all them hidin’ in the trees.”

Roseluck frowned to herself, looking really troubled by that bit of information. “I’d figured that if the enemy was going to be anywhere, it would be the Everfree. Hopefully they were just following you and not actually after the same thing you were.”

When she caught the look Applejack gave her, Roseluck shrugged slightly. “It’s best not to discount these things with our kind,” she told her. “Still. You’re safe now, and you got away with what you were after. I would call that a win for us. Now, about this book…”

Applejack nodded before glancing down at it. It was such a simple book bound in leather and clasped in gleaming wood, hardly anything special-looking. And yet, hopefully, it was the answer to all of Applejack's prayers.

“What is it?” Roseluck inquired.

Applejack looked up. “My Ma’s diary.”

The look of profound shock that shot across Roseluck’s face was the stuff of legends. She did a sudden double-take, going from Applejack, to the diary, and back to Applejack in a split second. Her eyes shot open wide and her breath caught in her lungs as her brain processed Applejack’s words.

“A-as in Queen Carnation’s…?”

Seeing Applejack’s nod, Roseluck leaned back in her chair, looking flustered but under control. Still, her eyes remained glued to the thing that, to any drone, would virtually amount to sacred text. To have such a thing just shoved under her nose like that… a mare needed some warning sometimes.

“Whatever Ma found,” Applejack went on, lightly tapping the book, “It’s bound ta be in here.”

That said, she pulled her hat from her head and fished around inside. Roseluck watched curiously until she pulled out a plain-looking envelope and reached inside. After a moment, Applejack pulled out a small wooden key, and gripping it very carefully in one hoof, she inserted it into the latch on the diary.

With a sudden jolt, Applejack felt something race up her hoof and back down again, like she’d just jarred a nerve. At the same time, the key twisted all by itself, wrenching her hoof around with it as it produced a loud, oddly metallic clicking sound.

A flash of light exploded out of each page, sending a shaft of fiery green across the room as the latch blasted itself open. The force of it threw Applejack’s hoof clear, just as Carnation’s diary snapped open all by itself, pages furiously fluttering, flying from front to back and back again in a blur.

Then, all at once, it stopped.

The light extinguished. The pages laid flat and motionless in front of Applejack. As Applejack stared, she watched words – once glowing green-hot as if molten – slowly cooled into jet black ink lines.

For the longest time, everyone in the room remained quiet, eyes wide with shock. Eventually, Agave peeked over the edge of the table, reappearing from cover.

“That,” Rainbow said breathlessly, “was so… awesome…! Lemme see!”

Without waiting for permission, she reached out and scooped up the diary eagerly. But the moment her hooves touched it, the diary let out an unsettling hiss.

Everyone watched as, right before their eyes, the words on the pages started to crumble away, and evaporate into thin tendrils of smoke.

“Wh-what the…?” Rainbow gasped, startled. “H-hey! Stop that!”

But it was too late. Within moments, the pages in front of her were completely bare, save for a few water stains and smudges.

Rainbow looked over at Applejack, looking desperate. “I-I didn't mean to! It just sorta... I mean... I..."

Applejack frowned, but said nothing. She took the diary back, scowling at the pages. The moment, her hooves touched the paper, a pulse of emerald light raced across their surfaces, as if a pen was dancing across it in fast motion. A split second later, and the pages were once again filled with words all ready to be read.

Rainbow let out a relieved sigh. “Whew… I thought I’d just screwed everything up.” Then she straightened up, frowning slightly. “Guess that means nopony’s gonna read that except you, huh?”

“Looks ta be that way,” Applejack surmised with a nod.

Rainbow couldn’t help but ruffle her mane in frustration. “Geez… first the weird lockbox, now this… You changelings really go overboard sometimes. You know that, right?”

Roseluck chuckled slightly, as did Agave.

“So, what’s it say?” Rainbow inquired, peering over Applejack’s shoulder.

Applejack glanced at her, then turned her eyes to the pages. Immediately, she recognized the same elegant calligraphy Carnation wrote with. This time, she was braced for it, but it still made her heart leap uncomfortably in her chest. Right away, however, Applejack noticed how slanted and uneven the words were, as if it’d been scrawled very hastily. It didn't take her long to figure out why.


Third Moon: Day 239

I am getting close, I can feel it. Another floor was discovered today, near the eastern wing. It’s still going deeper down. There is hope yet that I will find it here.

I am anxious to explore the new chambers myself, but given my current condition, it would be unwise to exert myself so much. The child inside me is taking all of my strength to grow. I fear this one may not be a drone. If that is the case, it may be many months before I can resume my work. I cannot afford any further delays, but if nature demands it, so it shall be. I shall simply have the drones transcribe every rune and etching they come across. It will have to do for now.




Third Moon: Day 240

It is as I feared. The egg inside of me will be no drone. It is taking all the strength I can muster to simply raise this quill to write, and I fear soon I won’t even be able to accomplish that. The child is sapping every ounce of strength I possess in order to grow. And here I was thinking I’d become stronger than ever before.
This has come at such an inopportune time. I know I am close… Every day, more evidence is

It is becoming difficult to write. I must rest. Hyacinth will continue the excavation. We cannot afford


Applejack frowned to herself as she leaned back. “Ma was… diggin’ for somethin’,” she spoke up, breaking the silence in Roseluck’s office. She glanced up at Rose, throwing her a questioning look, to which Roseluck merely shook her head. “Most of the hive was concerned with integrating with ponies,” she pointed out. “I’ve… never heard about this. She must have only involved her inner circle. Hyacinth and a few others.”

Applejack frowned to herself, looking the pages over again. Some of their content really seemed to jump out at her, causing her to look up again. She remembered what it’d been like for her pony mother when she’d been carrying Apple Bloom. She’d been out of sorts, but… not nearly as bad as these pages described Carnation’s pregnancy.  It was a disturbing thought to think that she could’ve incapacitated her mother to such a degree. The very idea was... disturbing, even hurtful.

“What else does it say?” inquired Rainbow from beside her.

Applejack glanced at her, then turned the page. More entries sprang to life as she did so, literally writing themselves in a blur of light before the pages had even settled again.



Fourth Moon: Day 301

Today marks the first day I’ve felt well enough to move. A group of the finest nurses I possess are tending to the egg. Someday soon, it will bear our hive its first heir.
In the meantime, I have much to catch up on. I must complete my work before my egg hatches. Tomorrow, I shall make for Canterlot to speak with our benefactor. I have much time to make up for, and she is the only option I have left. I will find the Maker before my daughter hatches. I will.

“The Maker?” Rainbow spoke up from over Applejack’s shoulder. “Why do I keep hearing that name?”

Roseluck raised her head expectantly. “What about Her?” she asked.

Applejack set the diary down, frowning even worse to herself. “Ah think… Ah think Ma was lookin’ for the Maker,” she said dubiously.

Roseluck gave her a rather bizarre look, “Her Highness was looking for the Maker? Here?”

“It don’t make sense,” Applejack agreed with a nod. “Why would Carnation come ta Equestria lookin’ for the one that created the changelin’s in the south?”

No one had an answer to that. For several long minutes, everypony thought about it, but no satisfactory answers were to be had.

“… It makes sense, though,” Agave spoke up, breaking the silence.

All eyes turned to her as she peeked up over the table at them, then she glanced at the book. “Think about it. She knew there was something passed the World’s End while every other queen didn’t believe there was. She believed in it enough to bring her whole hive through uncharted territory. She must have learned something.”

“Like what?” Rainbow asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Agave mumbled. “But… Applejack, you asked me about the Maker earlier, when we were headed into the forest.”

Applejack nodded, frowning to herself. A flash of the memory she’d seen cut across her mind, making her shiver. “That’s right. Some queen was mighty interested in findin’ out why Ma had been askin’ that Queen Honeycomb about her.”

Agave nodded. “Queen Carnation believed enough to go through whatever stupid task Queen Honycomb put her through, then uprooted her entire hive to chase whatever she’d learned. It wasn’t a hunch that brought her here; she must have known for a fact that the Maker was here in Equestria. At least… her final resting place, maybe.”

Rainbow frowned. “Whoa, whoa. So, you’re telling me AJ’s mom was chasing down a god?”

Agave fidgeted slightly. “Who better to ask than the one who created us?”

“Great,” Applejack muttered. “Now we’re chasin’ down almighty bein’s. Again.”

Rainbow flashed her a smile. “Just another Friday, eh?” 

Applejack huffed in response.

“There is a problem, though,” Agave mumbled, frowning to herself now. “The Maker disappeared thousands of years ago. At least, according to the bedtime stor—I mean, the books Mother used to have me read.”

She looked around and noticed how everyone was staring at her. “What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“Well,” Applejack spoke up, breaking the awkward silence, “By the looks of it, Ma found wherever it is this Maker gal is hidin’. And she was gettin’ help from Canterlot to find her.”

Applejack frowned to herself then, something occurring to her. Canterlot... for some reason, that nagged at her. Something about Canterlot... A benefactor in Canterlot... “Bumblebee…”

Roseluck raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

Rainbow gave Applejack a look as she started to make the connection as well. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Rainbow muttered.

Applejack nodded, half to herself, half to Rainbow. “Sure am. Looks like we’re gonna have ta pay the Spymaster a visit.”

Roseluck froze, her eyes growing big. “Wait, wait… the Spymaster? Don’t you think you’re being a little rash?”

Rainbow huffed and leaned one elbow on the table. “Filly, compared to the Everfree, a trip to Canterlot would be a walk in the park.”

“Not exactly,” Roseluck said grimly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the district is still under lockdown. What’s more, travel into and out of Canterlot is being strictly monitored; no one is allowed in without permission. Not even you, Applejack.”

Applejack blinked, taken aback. “Wait, wait, since when did that happen?” she asked.

This time, it wasn’t Roseluck who answered. It was, to Applejack surprise – and quickly building annoyance – Rainbow Dash.

“Er, yeah, um… I kinda, sorta forgot to tell you,” she said sheepishly. “It’s kinda been that way since, well… yesterday.”

Applejack turned on her, stunned. “And ya didn’t think ta tell me?”

Rainbow frowned back indignantly. “Oh come on, I didn’t think we’d actually being going there. The whole place is a changeling-free zone right now; all the barriers and defenses they have up now make the ones during the royal wedding look like foal proofing.”

“And you have the nobles to thank for that,” Roseluck said bitterly. “Celestia had no choice but to batten down the hatches for the sake of peace in the streets. If the Spymaster is still in the city, it won’t be easy to find him, even without all of the countermeasures in place.”

Applejack leaned against the table, scowling to herself. “Well, we gotta get in there somehow,” she said. “Everythin’s pointin’ to Canterlot right now.”

She turned to Rainbow then. “Think ya can make it ta Twi’s place and get Spike ta send a letter?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Worth a shot, but if Celestia’s busy, it could take her a while to put anything together.”

Applejack frowned. They didn’t have ‘a while’. No… she didn’t have ‘a while’, not if her sudden lack of growing pains was any indication. When the next one hit, it was going to hit hard, mark her words…

“We’ll think of something,” Roseluck reassured, sitting up straighter. “Right now, you should all rest while you can. You’ve had a long day, and there’s no telling when –”

A polite knocking on the door interrupted her.

“Um, excuse me? Miss Roseluck? Your Highness?” spoke a muffled voice through the door. “We, uh… have visitors.”


~~***~~


Ponies up and down the streets of Ponyville looked up as the sound of marching reached their ears. The sound preceded a column of twenty heavily armed and armored stallions moving as one down the lane.

Whispers broke out as ponies quickly vacated their path. Some dashed off, bearing word of the military formation on the move. Captain Steel Shod watched them out of the corner of his eye, but he let them go. After all, if he didn’t want attention, he wouldn’t be marching his troops straight down the main thoroughfare of Ponyville.

He wanted to be seen. Even if this inquiry somehow proved to be waste of time, ponies around town would know the Guard had its eyes on the changelings amongst them. And it did not like what it was seeing. It would get ponies talking, one way or another.

Steel Shod led his column around a corner onto what had once been the city limits of Ponyville. But instead of a gently sloping grassy hillside, he was confronted with trees. Lots and lots of unnatural, magically grown trees. He narrowed his eyes at them, fully knowing his approach would have been noticed by now, even if the high boughs overhead betrayed no movement.

The guards he’d posted at the blockaded entrance to the district snapped to attention, saluting their superior officer as he strode up.

“Captain Steel Shod,” one spoke up. “There’s been no unusual activity since your last visit. All’s remained quiet.”

Steel Shod didn’t act like he’d heard him. “Has Lieutenant Willow reported in yet?” he asked.

Both guards at the blockade exchanged a quick look. “No, sir. His platoon hasn't sent word since departing into the Everfree.”

Steel Shod scowled deeper at that. Willow could be a weasel, but he was never late with his reports, not unless something made him late.

He turned his attention towards the looming shade of the trees, as if he half expected to be set upon by little black assailants at any moment. Meanwhile, he was thinking quick, a sense of justified foreboding creeping in the back of his mind.

“Sir, may I ask a question?” piped up one of the guards.

Steel Shod glanced at him. “Speak, then.”

For some reason, he noticed how the other guard at his station was giving his fellow an apprehensive look barely hidden underneath a Royal Guard’s characteristic stoicism. The one doing the talking looked unsure for a moment as well, then he straightened up.

“I was just wondering, sir… things were finally starting to calm down around here. With all due respect, should we really get everypony worked up again?”

Steel Shod narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at the soldier. The guard didn’t visibly shrink under his gaze, but he certainly seemed smaller than before.

“We will do what needs to be done to contain any threat to Equestria,” he said sharply, “even if it is an unpopular choice. The law does not pick sides; you’d do well to remember that, private.”

“Y-yes, sir,” the guard mumbled quickly. “I will, sir.”

Steel Shod nodded. “Good. Now, open the way.”

The guards saluted, then scrambled to either side of the barricade. Muscles knotting, the pair shoved the heavy obstructions to one side, opening a gap that slowly grew large enough for Steel Shod and his column to advance.

The Ponyville Guard Captain glanced around the shaded and verdant alley that laid beyond. He knew these changelings wouldn’t let him have his way, not without resistance, hence the reinforcements. So, it came as no surprise to find a khaki earth pony waiting for him with a reproachful look on her face.

“Captain Steel Shod,” Roseluck greeted stiffly. “Punctual as ever, I see.”

Steel Shod eyed her carefully, gauging her reactions. Her disdain for his presence was evident enough, but what he couldn’t see was any unease. Perhaps she was just hiding it well. Without a word, Steel Shod pulled from his collar the search warrant he’d procured and waved it at her. “No more games, Roseluck,” he stated. “Show me where Applejack is, now.”

Rose trotted over, looking at him with clear dislike, and swiped the document from his grasp. As she quickly scanned it over, impatience welled up inside Steel Shod. “Satisfied?”

Roseluck frowned, then flicked her eyes up at the burly Guard Captain. “It’ll do,” she commented without inflection. Then, she simply turned and walked away. “Right this way then, Captain.”

Steel Shod’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He glanced back at his platoon and nodded.

As he moved deeper into the district, his troops followed close behind, all eyes scanning their surroundings carefully. Meanwhile, Steel Shod’s mind worked fast. This was too easy. Roseluck caved to his demands with far less resistance than he’d anticipated. Which could only mean they had something else up their sly sleeves. However, Roseluck could only stall at this point. Sooner or later, he’d get what he wanted. He’d prove Applejack wasn’t in the district at all; that she’d illegally broken the lockdown. And then he’d have her.


~~***~~


Steel Shod followed Roseluck deeper into the district, all the while remaining on guard. They took the most direct route to the central square, a move he hadn’t been expecting. He’d more than anticipated her taking the scenic route, to the point that he’d already come with a comment preloaded, just in case. As it turned out, however, it wasn’t even needed, which only furthered his distrust.

Perhaps worse, however, were the sounds.

All around them, he could discern changelings. They were usually up high, out of one’s immediate line of sight, but he saw them. Most cowered in knotholes and in the crook of tree limbs. A few clung to the roofs of houses like living shadows, their luminescent blue eyes blinking back at him from their heavily shrouded hiding places. One or two even followed his procession, slinking like snakes through the trees as they watched warily.

But Steel Shod knew he was only seeing a fraction of the drones he was passing. The ones he couldn’t see, he heard.  All around him, he detected the sound of rustling insect wings, occasionally trilling like a cricket through the trees. He heard their squeaking and chirping as they chattered back and forth through the underbrush, exchanging who knew what kind of information between them.

Every now and then he’d hear a rustle as a drone darted away through the boughs overhead, bringing tension to the platoon. They were in enemy territory now; they could all feel it, Steel Shod especially.

Roseluck seemed to pay all the noise no mind. Surely one who had been living amongst such a din for so long would learn to tune it out. But Steel Shod couldn’t help but note that the deeper in they marched, the more agitated the sounds became.

The sound of insectoid wings grew louder. The calls ringing through the trees became more prominent, to the point that it sounded like they were completely encircled from above by a veritable army.

Some of the guards tightened their grips on their spears and looked around nervously. Others seemed only slightly concerned by the building tension in the air, as if used to it by now.

Up ahead, Roseluck turned a sharp corner, vanishing from sight.

This was it, Steel Shod realized. His hoof went to the haft hanging from his side, but he did not draw his weapon just yet. Instead, he advanced, burst around the corner expecting anything, and –!

His eyes immediately fell on Applejack.

She stood near the middle of the square that had once been used in an ill-fated holiday celebration. Now, however, it was practically unrecognizable.

Not a trace of the devastation wrought by the Court’s attack remained. Every last scrap of building material had been removed, right down to the smallest tack. Plant life, once stricken and wilted, was once again positively glowing with vibrant life, no doubt fed by the twisted magicks of changelings.

The only evidence of the Summer Sun Celebration was the large tent still standing untouched in the center of the square. The tough fabric rustled heavily in a low wind, but offered no further comment.

Applejack wasn’t alone, either. At her side, much to Steel Shod’s annoyance, was Rainbow, who was lounging nonchalantly in the grass, completely unfazed by his demonstration of strength. On Applejack’s other side was a grey pegasus filly Steel Shod had never seen before, who looked only too nervous to be there.

And, of course, there were drones everywhere. These ones, however, didn’t bother hiding themselves; they were all out in the open, clustered like a small galaxy around Applejack. Like a living cape they fanned out in every direction behind her, glaring and bristling at his advance. Teeth flashed warnings, a few horns even sparked threateningly. But none moved so much as an inch without their queen’s directive.

Steel Shod took one look at her before his eyes narrowed. Then, he took a deliberate step into the square, undaunted by the commotion ringing through the trees all around him or the many glares he was getting from the front.

Applejack met his glare with an aloof calmness that only irritated Steel Shod more. But there was something about her that didn’t quite match up.

Applejack did not stand with her usual poise, he noticed. Her shoulders were slouched slightly and her eyes were weary, like she’d been up all night. The drones, Steel Shod also noted, were clinging to her more than usual. There were at least four clustered around her, facing her and not Steel Shod but nevertheless throwing cold glares over their shoulders, wings bristling.

Steel Shod had heard the report on Applejack’s condition, but to actually lay eyes on her and the hive’s behavior, he could tell right away that something wasn’t right with her. If he had to guess, he’d say she looked almost sick.

Applejack’s eyes never wavered away from him as he stepped closer. Then, abruptly, she raised a hoof into the air.

Immediately, the whole district went quiet. The sheer volume of the silence left Steel Shod’s ears ringing, and even he couldn’t help but pause because of it. Just one casual motion, and her entire hive had obeyed her unspoken order instantaneously… Applejack really was a dangerous one, whether she flaunted it or not.

“So,” Applejack grunted, frowning slightly at Steel Shod. “Ah hear yer lookin’ fer me. Mind tellin’ me what this is all about, Captain?”

Steel Shod didn’t immediately respond. He was too busy sizing her up, earning him a quirked eyebrow from Applejack.

The disguised changeling queen waited patiently as Steel Shod came to within twenty feet of her before stopping. Any closer, and he wouldn’t have the reaction time to save himself if she chose to rush him. There, he gave Applejack a suspicious look.

“Show me your true form,” he demanded.

Applejack’s quirked eyebrow raised up higher. “Beg pardon?”

“You heard me,” Steel Shod said coldly. “How am I to know you’re the real Applejack and not some imposter?”

Beside her, Rainbow made an irritated noise and rolled her eyes, a sentiment repeated in a ripple effect across the many drones in the square, like a bunch of children mimicking an adults actions.

Applejack glanced at her, then flicked her attention back to Steel Shod. Then, she lifted a hoof and, with a wince, pulled a band-aid from her cheek. She tossed it up slightly, then in a rush of emerald fire, shed her disguise.

She gave him a pointed look with her amber eyes, flicking her fiery orange tail slightly as if to prove it was real. “That better?” she quipped, caught the fluttering band-aid out of the air, and stuck it to her cheek again.

Steel Shod said nothing. In fact, he seemed at a slight loss for words. The gears in his brain were turning fast as he processed this new information, something that was amusing Rainbow to no end.

“So what’s this all about, Shoddy?” Rainbow piped up, trying her very best not to sound goading. She didn’t do a very good job, but she at least tried.

Predictably, Steel Shod shot her a glare before returning his attention back to Applejack. “I think you know,” he growled. “Somepony – or more specifically, someone – breached the perimeter of this district against lockdown protocols. For that matter,” Steel Shod added, turning his cold gaze onto Rainbow this time, “Ponies are forbidden from entering this district. Explain yourself, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow merely waved an infuriatingly nonchalant hoof. “Well, technically I never left in the first place, soooo… no entering. And besides, Princess Twilight gave me permission to be here, so what’s the big deal?”

“The ‘big deal’,” Steel Shod said back, “is that we are trying to keep all changelings isolated from the main populace in case –”

“In case what?”

“—there are infiltrating elements within the district itself,” Steel Shod finished, undaunted by Rainbow’s attempt to interrupt him. “By decree of the royal sisters, you are required to leave this area immediately for your own safety.”

Rainbow pretended to think about it for a moment. “Mmmm… nah, I’m good.”

“She’s stayin’,” Applejack added sharply. “If somethin’ happens to her, y’all can hold me responsible then. Until then, wherever she goes, Ah go.”

Rainbow flashed an irritating smile at Steel Shod, then made a show of getting good and comfortable right there in the soft grass next to Applejack.

Steel Shod narrowed his eyes again. “I will be sure to bring this to Princess Celestia’s attention.”

“Alrighty then,” Applejack said with a curt nod. “Ah hope ya do. Now, if that’s everythin’…”

“Hardly,” Steel Shod said back. “You still haven’t answered for the breach earlier. A breach we tracked heading towards your farmland, I might add.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

“Now, travel to and from Sweet Apple Acres isn’t unusual,” Steel Shod noted. “There’s been a steady flow of changeling magic coming and going ever since we established a monitoring system.”

“Uh, why is he telling us this?” Rainbow mumbled.

Applejack was less confused. “Cuz he’s tryin’ ta make a point.”

“What point?”

“That he’s been keepin’ tabs on us,” she responded sourly.

Meanwhile, Steel Shod continued, ignorant of their conversation. “When Princess Celestia instated the lockdown, all traffic out of the district stopped. Save for this one instance,” he concluded. “Can you tell me why?”

This time, it was Roseluck who spoke up. “Forgive me for saying so, Captain, but that is some very flimsy evidence to come and accuse our queen with. And to what end? To slap a petty crime on her in the name of justice? Or in the name of superiority?”

Hundreds of drones nodded and mumbled in agreement.

Steel Shod glanced at her, his eyes cold as ice cubes. “Queen… strange how you whip that word out only when it benefits you.”

“Excuse me?” Applejack said pointedly.

Steel Shod glanced back at her. “You, by your own words, have stated many times that you are no matriarch. And yet, when it serves you best, when it gets you out of trouble, you are. So, which one is it, Applejack? Are you a ruler beyond reproach? Or a naïve foal without conviction?”

Applejack opened her mouth… then shut it again. What exactly was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to articulate that she was as much a queen as Rainbow was a pegasus, but not as much a queen as Princess Celestia was a princess. She could barely even explain it to herself, let alone to somepony else.

Meanwhile, the others did not take the accusation lying down. Even Rainbow jumped to her hooves and glared.

All around, changelings bristled. A few hissed, ears flipping back threateningly. The platoon that had accompanied Steel Shod closed ranks defensively, weapons at the ready.

“Hush up!” barked Applejack, her voice cutting through the escalating ruckus.

Immediately the drones fell quiet again, hesitating in place. A few turned back towards her questioningly, looking like they didn’t understand why she’d stopped them from defending her honor.

Applejack glanced at only a few of them – Rainbow included – but her focus remained largely on Steel Shod. “Ah’d thank ya ta choose yer words more careful-like,” she told him tersely. “The last thing we all need is ta be pickin’ pointless fights with one another.”

“Then answer my question,” Steel Shod immediately retorted. “Do you, or do you not, know anything about this breach?”

Applejack caught Rainbow’s eye, who shook her head very subtly back at her. She wasn’t the only one, either; Roseluck was doing the same. Agave merely gave her an apprehensive look, her wings shuffling nervously.

All up and down, drones met her look without comment or gesture, but she saw the same thing in all of their eyes. All of them, to the last mare and stallion, was expecting her to lie. After all, it would have been easy. Steel Shod’s so-called evidence was wafer-thin; there was no way he could hope to touch her because something happened that could have been done by any one of her drones.

All she had to do was lie to save her own skin. It’s what a changeling would do, wasn’t it?

Applejack scowled slightly, then met Steel Shod’s expecting glare. “As a matter of fact, Ah do,” Applejack said. “And yer right. Ah left the district.”

That had not been the answer Steel Shod was expecting, and it showed on his face. In fact, most of the changelings around her gave her a stunned look, Roseluck included. Even Rainbow look at her like she’d lost her mind. “What are you doing?” she hissed, but Applejack brushed her off.

“Ah said it, didn’t Ah? Now ain’t the time ta be pickin’ pointless battles with each other,” she said firmly. At the same time, she started stepping closer, closing the distance between her and Steel Shod. “The only one who’s goin’ ta win is the Changelin’ Court. So yes, Ah snuck out ta chase down a lead.”

Never before had she seen the Guard Captain give her such a look of blank surprise. Steel Shod looked completely taken aback, but it didn’t take him long to recover. “Then you know what I have to do,” Steel Shod said ominously.

Yet, Applejack was unfazed, even as the changelings bristled again. “What ya gotta do is listen to me,” Applejack said, coming to a halt just out of Steel Shod’s reach.

The captain raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because,” Applejack said pointedly, “While Ah was out in the Everfree, Ah stumbled upon a whole mess of Court drones just sittin’ on our doorstep.”

Steel Shod blinked again. “I haven’t received any such reports,” he said quickly, only to almost immediately be cut off by Rainbow.

“Yeah, because you’re so focused on us that you aren’t bothering to look anywhere else!”

More murmurs of agreement.

“The reason why Ah’m comin’ clean with ya,” Applejack said, “is because we all need ta work together ta get through this, not just steer clear of one another. As long as we’re divided, the Court’s just gonna keep pickin’ at us until we come apart at the seams. It’s what they do.”

Steel Shod gave her a look like she’d just suggested taking a bath in a septic tank, but Applejack ignored it.

“This here land belongs to all of us,” she said, gesturing with a hoof. “Some of us may not be from around here, but that don’t make it any less our home. Instead of lockin’ us up, we gotta start helpin’ each other out. So Ah’m willin’ ta fess up to my own wrong-doin’s if it’ll help ya see that we’re all on the same side.”

She stepped closer, staring down the stalwart captain who met her gaze with cold contempt. "Ya asked me which one Ah am. Well here's yer answer." She leaned in closer, stepping right up on him. "Ah'm what they need me ta be," she growled.

Steel Shod’s eyes narrowed. “What game are you…?”

“No game,” Applejack said back. “Ah’m admittin’ Ah did wrong.”

But Steel Shod’s eyes only narrowed further. “Do you think that will impress me? Taking the blame for one incident? There’s always an angle with your kind –”

“And this time,” Applejack interrupted, “it’s ta show you somethin’.”

“What?” Steel Shod shot, “that you can be honest sometimes?”

“Yes,” Applejack said.

“… And?”

“That’s it.”

Steel Shod gave her a look of pure suspicion. “I don’t believe you,” he said.

To that, Applejack sighed in defeat. “Welp, then that’s on you,” she said with a shrug.

“I still have you dead to rights on breaching a royally mandated quarantine,” Steel Shod pointed out. 

From a pouch along his side, he pulled a pair of silvery manacles. Just the sight of them caused changelings all around to bristle. “I don’t know what you thought your speech would accomplish,” Steel Shod stated, “but you cannot change the law with just a few flowery words.”

With that, he held the manacles out to his side. “Officer,” he barked at the troop behind him, “Take Her Highness into custody.”

Silence was the only response he got.

“Officer!” he barked, glaring over his shoulder.

The stallion in question was indeed standing behind him, right where he was supposed to be. Except, he hadn’t moved an inch. The only thing to change about him, in fact, was the frown on his face.

“Sir… is this really necessary?” he asked Steel Shod.

“Excuse me?” Steel Shod growled back in a voice of cold menace.

The Guard officer remained mostly undaunted, though he did quail a bit. “Sir, with all due respect, Queen Applejack has a point. On top of that, she discovered where the enemy is hiding in the course of her unsanctioned departure. Should we be wasting our energies on a minor crime?”

Steel Shod rounded on him, all but snarling now. “I gave you an order,” he spat.

The officer backed up a step – only to back up into two more stallions, who were holding their ground.

“Captain Steel Shod,” one said with a frown, “Article Twenty Nine, section B subsection H clearly sets a precedence for withholding corporal punishment against those who contributed to the safety of Equestria through the perpetration of a crime. If Her Highness’s claims of enemy infiltrators in the Everfree Forest are true, her actions would clearly fall under this category. Should we not validate her claims before rendering judgment?”

“At the discretion of the commanding officer,” Steel Shod shot back. “Do you think I don’t know basic law?”

“Then,” another countered, “you know, under the new ordinances set in place by Princess Celestia herself, a guard may disregard his commanding officer’s orders if he or she believes them to be of detriment to the wellbeing of Equestria as a whole?”

A look of shock crossed Steel Shod’s face as he comprehended what was going on. Most of the troops behind him were no longer at the ready. They were looking at him with frowns and conflicted expressions as each, one by one, shouldered their spear.

“Fine,” Steel Shod snapped. “If none of you have what it takes to do the right thing, I’ll do it myself.”

He rounded on Applejack again, brandishing his manacles as he advanced. “It doesn’t matter if it is a minor crime or a major one; an example must be set. Your kind need to be shown how short your leash is, and if nopony else is willing to do it, then I will.”

Applejack didn’t back away, or move in the slightest. Her hive, however, bristled worse than ever. Like a dam about to burst, they rumbled and fidgeted restlessly, all eyes gauging the distance between their queen and the one threatening to do harm to her. Even Rainbow was tensing up, ready to intervene within seconds, when –

The square became filled with a slow, slow clapping.

It started out low at first, almost imperceptible over the hissing and growling of the changelings. But with each passing second it grew louder, until it was reverberating off of every tree branch overhead.

Even Steel Shod came to a halt, his eyes glancing around warily at the sound. “Who’s there?”

A voice echoed around the square, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account. This whole scene was just getting good.”

Applejack’s eyes shot open wide for an instant. She knew that voice. And right now, she really wish she didn’t.

“Show yourself!” Steel Shod shouted, turning around.

A sigh ran through the trees. “What are you saying, my dear Captain of the Guard? I’m right here.” The voice purred – from the stallion behind him.

Steel Shod spun around to face the guard standing behind him, who suddenly looked scared out of his mind as an envelope bearing the royal Canterlot seal pulled itself out of his saddle bags, using two corners like hands.

Everypony watched in morbid fascination as the letter climbed out of the stallion’s bags, perched on the rim, and executed a flawless swan dive to a smattering of unseen applause.

The letter descended, alighted on one side, and then turned on one corner to face Steel Shod. And then, folding down one corner in order to reach for the seal, and in one swift swipe, undo it.

The explosion of sound and light that followed had everypony backing away, shielding their ears and eyes as best they could as a crude fanfare trumpeted through the air. As the brilliant glare died down and the trumpets faded away, Applejack reopened her eyes to find her worst possible fears confirmed.

A tall, horribly elongated creature stood in front of her on a mismatched set of legs. For that matter, his entire body was a hodgepodge of cobbled together animal parts, each as senseless as the last. But, perhaps more disturbingly, at the moment he appeared to be wearing a complete postal uniform, complete with a winged helmet bearing a cartoonish insignia of his own face, which was also stamped on each shoulder.

“Discord,” Applejack grumbled. “As if Ah didn’t have enough problems.”

“Oh, I missed you, too, dear Applejack,” Discord said with a toothy grin.

“What is he doing here?” Rainbow shouted, throwing a hoof at Discord, who’d taken to reclining in midair.

“Am I not allowed to simply drop in on my friends now and then?” Discord asked. “Besides, I couldn’t help myself, what with all this wonderful chaos your friend here has kicked up recently. Why, I practically feel like we’ve become such good friends lately!”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What’d Ah do?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Discord responded, stepping out of her shadow – much to her alarm. He slunk through the air like a snake, spinning once around her before settling down again behind her. “You’ve just set the entire system on its head and thrown the whole of Equestria for a loop! War, social change on an unprecedented scale… Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were after my title. And now this whole business with your heart…”

He cackled, and with a snap of his fingers, vanished again. With a pop, he reappeared again in front of Applejack, making her jump back a step. “I just can’t help but wonder. You, Applejack, the epitome of honesty and one the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. The victor of numerous heroic exploits already! Well on her way to being the next worst thing to ever crop up on Equestria’s horizon. Think about it; with all the love you receive, how powerful do you think you’d become? Hive or no, would even the Princesses be able to stand in your way? I can barely contain my curiosity.”

Applejack glared. “It ain’t comin’ ta that, Discord,” she shot.

Discord only cracked an infuriating grin. “And… how far are you willing to go to make sure it doesn’t?”

“As far as Ah have to,” Applejack said back without missing a beat.

Discord cocked an eyebrow at that. “Which is why I find you so very amusing.”

Applejack glared at him, and was about to fire off another scathing remark, when he vanished again.

A split second later, he reappeared right behind Steel Shod – now wearing a grossly undersized Guard uniform. A few feet away, one of the actual Guard actually yelped when he realized his armor had inexplicably vanished.

“And then there’s you, Captain Steel Shod,” Discord said, leaning in uncomfortably close to the irritated stallion. “The cherry on top of my sundae."

Steel Shod tried to shove him away, but Discord was already gone. “Watch your tongue, monster. What business do you have here?”

“Of course,” Discord’s voice rang through the trees. He’d dematerialized again. “Right down to business, as always. Never any time for some real fun. Well… I can wait. The ball is already rolling. The fun is only just getting started.” He ended with a disconcerting chuckle that echoed in everyone’s ears and sent a chill down Applejack’s spine.

“As for why I’m here, there really is no mystery. You’d know that if you’d actually bothered to read Princess Celestia’s message like a good stallion.”

With a loud bang, something appeared directly over all of their heads. A horrific something that roughly resembled Discord wearing a horrible caricature costume of a certain Princess of the Sun.

“I need you to go fetch that silliest of ponies, Queen Applejack from Ponyville for me,” screeched Discord’s voice in what would undoubtedly become known as the absolute worst impression of Princess Celestia to ever pollute Equestrian ears. “Be a lamb and do that for me, oh gracious and most handsome Discord!”

In a puff of smoke and loud bang, Discord returned to normal, though he continued to hover a few feet over their heads. “Or, something to that effect.”

Applejack opened her mouth, closed it, tried again, and after two more failed attempts to speak, she finally got out. “Wait, Princess Celestia told ya to get me?”

“And you listened?” Rainbow added.

Discord was busy digging around in an ear with his pinkie finger. “Come now. I can be charitable once in a while, can’t I?”

“She threatened you with Fluttershy, didn’t she?”

“That’s beside the point,” Discord rebuffed, all the while literally stealing Rainbow’s mouth and stuffing it behind his ear. Which, of course, he immediately regretted when she bit him. “The point is – ow! – that I must break up these proceedings in the interest of Equestrian security. You, little missy,” he added as he slapped Rainbow’s mouth back on her face, “need to learn some manners.”

Rainbow stuck her tongue out at him – which had developed the most stunning plaid patterning anypony had ever seen. Rainbow opened her mouth to shout something – only for classic music to come streaming out instead.

While she sat there, horrified hooves clasped over her mouth, Discord sidled up to Applejack, who automatically tried to shimmy away.

It was then that a stunned Steel Shod finally managed to recover his voice. “Hold it right there, Discord! This mare is wanted for breaking the law! You can’t just –”

“ I Can’t. Just. What.”

Even Steel Shod fell silent at the tone in Discord’s voice. The towering dragonequus threw a look at him from the corner of his eye, his smile replaced with a chilling sneer. “Steel Shod, I would choose my words with more caution if I were you, before I actually think you’re trying to tell me what to do. I would simply hate to have to correct you.”

Discord put one hand on a motionless – and slightly terrified – Applejack’s head. He cracked a wicked smile then, showing off all of his pointed teeth in great detail. “But by all means, finish that little thought of yours. Follow through, if you must! I’m always up for a good laugh.”

And with a snap of his fingers, they both vanished in a flash of light, leaving in his wake a stunned crowd, and a pool of chocolate milk.

For the longest time, nopony moved, least of all Steel Shod. All of that changed, however, when Rainbow suddenly stiffened. “Hey! You forgot me, you idiot!” she bellowed before streaking off into the sky.

Steel Shod turned towards her, but she was already gone.

And of course, it was that moment that Pinkie decided to make her grand entrance, bursting through the underbrush and skidding to a halt right in between both parties. “Hey guys! I made it!” she cheered, paused, then looked around. “Uh… guys?”


~~***~~


Rainbow shot up high into the air, high enough to look out over the whole of Ponyville. She looked around quickly, getting her bearings. If Discord was just going to leave her behind, she was just going to have to catch up!

“Hang on, AJ,” Rainbow growled through gritted teeth. “I’m coming!”

She set her sights on Canterlot, tensed… and felt a polite tapping on her shoulder. That snapped her out of it.

Rainbow whirled around, snarling. “Not now! I’m in a hu-hu… hur… ry…” Her voice died in her throat as she laid eyes on the one hovering behind her.

The owner of that pink hoof was a mare with a mane as blue as the sky, who was currently smiling at Rainbow with a bright smile that only filled her with welling dread. “Caught you,” the mare said in a singsong voice.

Rainbow gagged, gulped, and squeaked in the tiniest voice imaginable, “H… Hi, Mom…”


~~***~~


Applejack had been subjected to travel via several different kinds of teleportation in her life, more-so than most. But out of all of them, she had to say Discord’s brand was her absolute least favorite.

It felt like being pulled apart, stretched out until she couldn’t have been more than a single line of molecules, and then violently snapped back together faster than she could form a coherent thought to describe the sensation. 

It all happened so fast that it was only in retrospect that Applejack even made sense of any of it. By that time, she’d rematerialized in a discombobulated heap on the floor, eyes spinning.

“Last stop!” Bugled Discord, all the while wearing a train conductor uniform. “Pompous ponies, political intrigue, and bunt cake!”

Applejack staggered to her hooves, shaking her head. “Whu… why do Ah taste cranberries?”

“Happens all the time,” Discord said dismissively. “It’s better than hearing it. Take my word for it.”

Applejack didn’t even know how to begin responding to that. So, instead, she focused on righting herself and getting her bearings. She had no idea how far she'd been transported, but considering Discord was involved, she didn't feel much like taking any chances.

As her senses recovered, she started to make out the great stone hall she stood in. Arranged behind her were a series of towering arch windows that let in great shafts of sunlight, filling the room with warmth. But… there was something odd about the sun, she realized. As she narrowed her eyes against the glare, she couldn’t help but notice the odd pink tinge to the sky, one that was pulsing oddly…

"Where are we?" she said, approaching the window. Outside, she could see the shape of glittering golden roofs, a pair of towers...

With a jolt, she realized why everything looked so familiar. The clean marble walls, the elegant golden fixtures… to Applejack’s astonishment, she realized she recognized the architecture, no matter how impossible it seemed.

“We… we made it all the way to Canterlot?” Applejack gasped, astonished. "How in tarnation...?!"

Discorded buffed his lion claws on his chest, grinning smugly to himself. “Impressed? I know I am. These days, it’s like I don’t even know my own strength.”

Applejack jumped when Discord leaned in, cheek to cheek. “I suppose I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”

Applejack glowered and stepped away. “Ah have no idea what gettin' at, but if ya try any funny business…”

“Me? Try something?” Discord chuckled. “My dear, whatever would I do? You and that delightful Court you oppose make it so difficult to find a way to contribute! No, no, I’m more than content to watch you all play your little games.” To better make his point, he snapped his fingers, conjuring a jumbo bucket of popcorn drizzled in butter, a large cup stamped with his own face topped with a crazy straw, and even a set of 3D glasses.  “All of this delightful chaos, all of these conflicts and hatreds and fears… You and the Court certainly know how to stir things up around here."

Applejack glared at his back, bristling. “Well, enjoy it while ya can, cuz Ah'm gonna put a stop ta all this nonsense one way or another.”

Discord paused, then turned to give her a rather disturbing sneer. “Oh I know. I'm counting on it.”

And with a pop and flash of light, he was gone. Applejack continued to glare at the spot, and tried very hard not to let his last words get to her.



> Chapter 14: Trojan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Deep within Canterlot, in a secluded corner of a royal library, Twilight yawned wide enough to pop her jaw on both sides; the biggest in a long, ever escalating series of yawns that’d been stretching on for hours, one for every book or document laid out before her, and that had become quite the list itself.

Stacks of tomes of all sizes stood precariously tall all around her, waiting for the slightest nudge to send them toppling over. The desk she’d been sitting in front of had practically become one with the mounds of literature, with only the table top visible at all and only because it was currently being put to use and thus warranted being cleared off periodically.

Twilight had started the night with a brand new ivory white candle to light her work. Now, that same source of light was little more than a sputtering spec of fire amidst a molten pool of wax sitting in a small basin. The magically gifted alicorn had long since forgotten it was there, only to be reminded whenever wax threatened to seep onto her reading material. Instead, Twilight kept her progress lit by hornlight. But even that was taking its toll on her.

Twilight blinked a couple of times, squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment before forcing them open again. All-nighters weren’t unfamiliar territory for her, but that didn’t mean her body was impervious to their effects. Concentration was coming at a higher cost to her, and she was finding it harder and harder to find a comfortable position to sit in that wouldn’t lead to a narcoleptic face plant into whatever she was reading.

“Okay, focus Twilight,” she berated herself, slapping her cheeks. “Applejack’s depending on you. Just gotta keep going… something has to turn up…”

The problem was, nothing was turning up.

Usually, there was some sort of excitement that kept her invested in her work. A discovery of some kind would pique her interest. A revelation would breathe new life into her taxed faculties. She’d race to follow the new lead, and the next and the next, until she looked up and realized the sun was coming up again.

But on this occasion, she was faced with a different kind of all-nighter. She had to consciously force herself not to nod off as she cross referenced, studied and pondered for hours on end, all in relative silence. This time, she still felt like she was stuck at square one, chasing herself around and around in circles.

For eight hours she’d been reading and translating, and apart from a new appreciation for the complexities of ancient earth pony pictography, she had little to show for it; infinitely less than she needed. It had become grueling, tedious work, and more and more she was struck by the sense that she was simply spinning her wheels fruitlessly.

There has to be something here about changelings, she thought to herself, a little desperately, looking back and forth. Or… or something relating to them. A story, a curse, something. Hay, at this point I’ll take myths and legends…

A flash ran through her mind like a knife’s edge; a memory of a black form lying crumpled on the ground, cracked and ruined horn still hissing with angry changeling fire. The very air around her boiled with raw magic, her eyes half open, but unseeing…

Twilight shivered, and hugged herself for a moment until it passed. That whole terrible event had been one of the worst things she’d born witness to in a very long time, perhaps ever, and it was something she was doing everything in her power not to have pester her at the moment. It was unproductive, and right now, she had to be as productive as equinely possible, for her sake.

There has to be something here, she reiterated, this time firmer than before. She looked up at the towering shelves. Each stood so tall they vanished beyond the reach of the candle’s pitiful flame, fading into utter darkness overhead. From where she sat, it was like the shelves went up and up into forever, an endless source of knowledge she’d never be able to explore completely.

This was the Canterlot Royal Archives, a place as ancient as it was disused. There were tomes here as old as Equestria itself, carefully preserved inside locked display cases, and grimoires best left forgotten in their complex vaults. There was knowledge here, both archaic and modern, mundane and eldritch. Half of the books in front of Twilight were merely transcripts of the real things, the originals too delicate to touch, let alone read through. Or, in some cases, too dangerous too read through.

One – a book bound literally in carved slabs of blackest obsidian and filled with pages that felt unsettlingly like living skin, warmth and all – sat pushed slightly off to one side on her desk. It was firmly shut and covered over with a strip of cloth, namely because the imagery inside had started to make the shadows around her dance and sing. 

But she couldn’t quite bring herself to put it back into the vault from whence it came. Not because of anything it held in particular, but because of some nagging feeling in Twilight’s head. A bad… bad feeling that she routinely tried to pass off, only for it to inevitably come back with those same three utterly annoying words.

But what if…?

Twilight glanced at the black grimoire, unease plaguing her. No – no, she had to put her hoof down.

Before she could let doubt undermine her again, her horn glowed. The grimoire rattled, as if attempting to resist her, and with a pop, it vanished, reappearing safely within its secured vault once more, hopefully never to see the light of day again.

No, that wasn’t the answer, Twilight thought, more convicted than she'd been in hours. Changeling magic is totally different from… that.

But what if?

Twilight ground her teeth and shook her head. No, that suspicion was baseless. She’d… felt that particular kind of magic before. The black, needling taint of it, the burning sensation in her very being… no, that magic and the kind demonstrated by changelings felt worlds different.

Then why was this feeling tormenting her?

Something was at the back of her mind – a thought that hadn’t fully taken form, like a word on the tip of one’s tongue. She felt like she was on to something, and she’d learned over the years that her intuition was never far from a mark, at the very least. The trick was figuring out what it could be.

She looked back up at the towering book shelves. That wasn’t the answer; she was determined on that point. But it wasn’t her only lead, either.

Twilight knew one thing for sure; if Applejack’s mother would go anywhere to learn something, it would have been here. At the time, there was no greater source of information in the public eye. It was infeasible to think that Carnation had not at least visited the Royal Library at least a few times if she was looking for something.

And if what little information Applejack had told about them about her mysterious birth mother was correct, Twilight would bet her first edition copy of Stars and Spells: the Biography of Starswirl the Bearded that Carnation had left something for her daughter to find. And she’d never make that bet on anything but a sure thing.

But the million bit question remained; what was Carnation looking for? The most basic question… and she didn’t have the faintest clue what it might be, only that something brought her to Equestria. Something had caused her to undertake a journey all other changeling queens passed off as being nothing but suicide. Carnation had to have known something before ever coming here; something tangible enough to cause her to ignore the warnings of all of her peers.

But what?

Twilight groaned, her head flopping down onto the desk in front of her. And so she went in a circle again… Carnation came to Equestria for a reason, and Twilight needed to find that reason, but in order to find that reason she needed to know what drew Carnation to Equestria in the first place…

Her only conclusion was that somewhere, buried in Equestria’s history, there had to be some connection to changelings. An unexplained account, some unidentified sickness or spell, something. But where could it be?

Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? If… if I’m too late and Applejack…

Another memory went screaming through her mind; a towering black figure, a victorious, supremely smug smile on her face as she and her friends were hauled into a ruined wedding hall…

But as quick as despair started to set in, defiance boiled up to counterbalance it. No, that was not how Applejack was going to be! Twilight was not about to let one of her best friends play into the schemes of that changeling queen! She would not let her interfere with their lives again!

Twilight sat up straighter, her eyes casting upwards towards the wall of books in front of her. There was a trail here to follow; she knew it. Regardless of whether Carnation herself left that trail, the facts remained unchanged; she’d come to Equestria for something, and she'd found it, evidently. And if Carnation could find it, Twilight could, too, even if she had to sift through every urban legend and myth to do so.

What she really needed to do was talk with Celestia. There wasn’t a pony alive who knew as much about Equestria as she did, nor a pony wiser. If Carnation’s secret was one of Equestria’s secrets, then she knew exactly who could fill in the blanks.

They’d already talked at length on the subject, true, but maybe if she picked the immortal princess’s brain a little more…

The more she thought it over, the more it sounded like the best option. That, or try her luck with another speed-reading spell and hope it didn’t leave her cross-eyed again.

Bolstered by her second wind, she jumped up, her mind made up… only to pause as something caught her attention; something outside of her self-contained little bubble.

Somewhere out in the many aisles of bookshelves, but growing louder by the second, she could make out the faint click of hooves on marble floor. Kinked muscles forgotten, Twilight looked this way and that, suddenly more alert than she’d been for hours. There’d been too many recent events to simply brush off even small details as happenstance. Few ponies ever came back this far into the archives intentionally. Most nobles usually had their own private libraries for perusing, and it was a rare pony indeed who Celestia allowed into this particular section of the archives.

But sure enough, the motion ward Twilight had set up in a two aisle radius around her started buzzing through her horn; her ears weren’t deceiving her. Somepony was approaching from behind. More importantly, nopony was even allowed into this section of the archives without explicit permission from Celestia herself, and the one approaching did not sound like they were accompanied by a long-legged princess’s stride like they were supposed to be.

Defensive spells flashed through her mind automatically, weariness forgotten. A whole slew of protective hexes and incantations she’d committed to memory – partially at the insistence of Shining Armor – jumped to the forefront of her mind, ready for use. Whatever was coming, if it proved unfriendly, it was about to have the single worst day of its unfortunate life.

And if she couldn’t do that, the owners of the dozens of pairs of blue eyes cracking open all around her surely would.

A hiss ran through the rousing mob of thirty or so drones as they rose – all but one, anyway, who had to be woken up by a hard swat on the nose from her neighbor. They straightened up from open book pillows and empty bookshelves, and proceeded to silently bristle at whatever was foolish enough to approach unannounced.

Twilight frowned up at them. They’d followed her from Ponyville, insisting to help with the search for answers to their queen’s plight. But it was still disconcerting how quick they all were to bare their fangs. Then she turned her head, wary for whatever was coming. Perhaps this time, their instinctive wariness was justified…

Or maybe it was aimed at a rather disheveled mare wearing huge spectacles, who came trotting around the nearest corner and immediately jumped in fright.

“Oh d-d-d-dear,” the mare stuttered, jumping when she caught sight of Twilight facing her. “I-I’m ever s-so s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean to st-t-startle you.”

Twilight blinked, and almost dropped her guard. Almost. “Can I help you?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the fidgety pony.

The intruder looked somehow worse than Twilight felt. Her mane was unkempt and tied back in a rough ponytail that was coming loose, spilling locks of curly brown hair over her golden eyes. She was wearing a collar and bowtie, both of which were hastily done up and uneven, the bow swinging slightly around her neck. The mare’s spectacles – huge, perfectly round things that seemed almost impractically big and were held together by a fat splint of tape – sat unevenly on her face, one side riding up so high she could almost see under it while seeing over the other.

She may have looked harmless, but one fact still rang clear in Twilight’s mind; Celestia was not accompanying her, and if the princess herself wasn’t showing her in, she wasn’t supposed to be here. On top of that, the enchantments barring the old archives from the newer sections were not to be trifled with, either. Twilight knew that for a fact, having tested it on more than one late night jaunt through the library as a filly.

And yet, here she stood, mane unsinged, body un-transmogrified into a dumpy toad, no legion of Royal Guard stallions bearing down on her. That, in and of itself, was raising some red flags.

“I’m ev-ver so sorry to interrupt,” the mare blustered in a squeaky voice. “I was t-t-told I could find P-P-Princess Twilight Sparkle here and I got lost and ooooh… D-d-do you know where –”

Before she could even finish, her eyes fell upon Twilight’s wings, then her horn. Then back to her wings, then her horn. As quick as a flash, she straightened up as if electrocuted, looking like she’d just received the scare of her life.

“OH! My Ap-pologies Your H-Highness!” she gasped. “It’s been one of those d-days.” She chuckled nervously, ruffling her mane – which of course freed more strands of hair.

Twilight blinked. This mare was making it exceedingly difficult to keep on guard, but she wasn’t ready to write her off just yet. “Um… who are you?” she asked, disregarding the pony’s previous comment.

“Oh, right,” the mare muttered, then straightened up and smiled. “I’m sorry to bother you. M-m-my name’s Peony. P-Princess Celestia told me I could f-find you here.”

Celestia knew she was coming and hadn’t undone the spells for her? Unusual, very unusual. “Okay, Peony,” Twilight said, eying the nervous mare uncertainly. “Second question; you’re a changeling, aren’t you?”

To that, Peony’s eyes about bugged out of her head. “W-w-what?! How d-d-did you know?! I th-th-thought I was b-b-b-being so careful!”

Twilight couldn’t help but crack a grin despite herself. Peony had at least come clean, so either she was wildly lucky yet incompetent, or gifted and peaceful. “Well, apart from the Royal Guard, only changelings call me ‘Your Highness’. Also, you kinda just told me.”

From the look on the faux-unicorn’s face, Twilight’s words completely stumped Peony. “Oh,” was all she managed to say. A moment later, she recovered, and looked at Twilight, clearly impressed. “I’ll… I’ll have to remember that. You really are a clever p-p-pony,” she said.

Twilight flashed an appreciative smile. “I try to be.”

Peony gave a nervous smile back. “Well, you are correct. I am a changeling.” Then, she swiftly straightened up and threw a crisp salute, still smiling awkwardly. “Agent Peony, at your service! er… if anypony asks, you d-d-didn’t hear that from me.” 

Twilight raised an eyebrow. Somehow, Peony didn’t strike her as the secret agent type. “And why were you looking for me?”

“Oh! Right,” she squeaked, jolting as she remembered. “P-Princess Celestia wanted to see you in the main dining hall. She s-said something about your f-f…” She took a breath, “your friend arriving from Ponyville a little while ago,” she finished, slower this time.

Twilight blinked. Her ears perked up. “Applejack’s here already? Princess Celestia only just sent the summons less than half an hour ago. Wait, what am I saying! Is she alright? She hasn’t gotten worse, has she?”

Peony gave her a mildly helpless look, wilting under the barrage of questions. “I am j-just repeating what I was t-t-told.”

Twilight had to force herself to settle down. “Right, okay… if Applejack got here so fast, maybe she’s feeling better. That’s a good thing!” She smiled to herself, nodding, then glance up towards Peony. Her dubiousness was coming back. “And… Princess Celestia sent you to tell me about that?”

she nodded with a smile. “Yes she did. I was headed this way, anyway. B-busy day today, very busy. N-Nobles already queuing for the Day Court, loooooots of commotion. Almost reminds me of… uh, n-nevermind. Do you p-p-ponies ever have a quiet day?”

Twilight’s insides squirmed and she grimaced. “On occasion.”

Peony looked at Twilight questioningly for a few seconds. Then, she glanced behind her. “Wow,” she intoned softly, sounding awed. “Th-That’s a lot of b-b-books you’re reading.”

Twilight fidgeted. Was she being judged? Or praised? “Well, there’s a lot to do. You know, because of all that’s going on back at Ponyville.”

Peony just nodded, as if she understood all-too well. “Is there any way I c-c-can help?”

Twilight couldn’t restrain a smile. Yes,Peony was definitely one of Applejack’s changelings; always willing to offer a helping hoof, even when the matter concerned them little. Then again, said a cynical part of her mind, it could just be their strategy for endearing themselves to others in the interest of survival. Changelings certainly had the capacity to be so calculating and adaptive, and their ability to switch from one method of garnering love to another so fluidly was uncanny.

But then she pushed the thought away and stood up. All this cynicism wasn’t good for her. “Not unless you could tell me how to reverse whatever’s happening to Applejack, or what Carnation was looking for here in Equestria in the first place.”

Peony blinked. “C-Carnation? You m-mean Queen Ap-p-plejack’s mother? I’m sorry, I wasn’t a part of her hive. Not that q-queens share very much with their drones, but…”

Twilight wasn’t terribly disappointed by that. It wasn’t like she’d had high hopes on a positive response anyway; it’d been rhetorical, actually. If she thought it would be that easy, she would’ve stayed in Ponyville and grilled the long-time Ponyville changelings for information instead.

“But if I had to guess,” Peony went on suddenly, catching Twilight by surprise, “she might have been looking into the princesses.”

Twilight blinked. “Really? Why?”

Peony shrugged, pushing up her glasses on her face. “Well, queens and alicorns aren’t that different from what I’ve seen. M-maybe she wanted to know what m-makes them different. B-b-but what do I know? Queens d-d-don’t really… share with us. But if Queen Carnation felt it was imp-p-portant enough to tend to it herself and not send changelings to do it for her, it c-couldn’t have been a small matter.”

Twilight stroked her chin. That was something she hadn’t considered. She’d been focusing so much on Carnation; what if it was her drones that handled part of the searching? But to look into Alicorns… Why? She allowed her mind to wander down that train of thought for a bit.

Aside from stature, how were queens and alicorns related in any way? Could Carnation have been looking into harnessing alicorn magic for something? It was certainly something to think about, even if it was a troubling thought. Down that way was leading her back into that territory again…

What if…?

Twilight shook her head. No, no, don’t get ahead of yourself. First thing’s first; I’ll have to send a message to Ponyville, see if Roseluck knew who all Carnation would trust with this kind of thing. Her operatives wouldn’t be clumsy enough to leave their names behind in the log-in ledgers… unless they did it intentionally. It’s a longshot, but after tonight, I’ll taking what I can get…

“Thanks,” Twilight said, flashing an appropriate smile while already halfway through her plans for the imminent future. “That may be just what I needed. Maybe it’ll lead me to something to help us save Applejack.”

Not that there’s much written about alicorns to begin with, but still… It’s something.

Peony, however, hesitated, looking even more fretful than before. “B-b-but, Princess Celestia…”

Twilight almost smacked herself in the face with a hoof. “Oh. Right.  Sorry. Let’s go see what Princess Celestia wants.”

“Oh, y-you go,” Peony insisted, putting up her hooves. “I’ve g-got some more errands to run. Busy day, very busy…”

“Oh… okay,” Twilight responded, a little thrown off, but not by much.

But as she started to trot away, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at the strange changeling. Something about her still perplexed Twilight, and she couldn’t help but notice how every single drone that had accompanied her had fled without a trace just at the sight of her.


~~***~~


The whole way through the halls of Canterlot, Twilight’s head was in a fog. Even without reading materials to work with, her brain continued to puzzle and puzzle over a great many things, even if it felt like she was doing so with a fair bit of sludge clogging her brain at the same time.

Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind, though her body wasn’t quite of the same opinion. Her head throbbed in protest, but she persisted in her musings. Changelings queens and alicorns… Changeling queens and alicorns… Was there a connection? Was there something of value there? What could an alicorn possess that would interest Carnation so much that she’d come hundreds, if not thousands of miles through uncharted, inhospitable territory just to find it? 

Come to think of it, I don’t really know all that much about alicorns, myself, Twilight mused with no small measure of chagrin, given her current status. Almost all the books out there are just theories, legends and educated guesses.

Twilight paused to gaze out a nearby window, across the manned battlements of the castle and across the fortified city. I wonder… if Celestia keeping it hidden for a reason?

Just as quickly, she was shaking her head with a snort. Ugh, again with the cynicism… Come on, this is the princess; I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Twilight nodded to herself, happy with her assessment, and continued on her way. If I ask nicely, I’m sure she’d tell me.

“I could never do such a thing!”

Princess Celestia’s exclamation about made Twilight jump right out of her skin. The shock in her voice was more than enough to snap Twilight back to reality and look around while feeling like she’d just received an electric shock.

She found herself standing in front of two large double doors, a mainstay for most entryways within the castle, she noted. They had been thrown open wide, beyond which stretched an immense dining hall big enough to undoubtedly seat half of the population of Ponyville without crowding – and that included its many new buzzing residents. Great stained glass windows flanked either side of the hall, filling it with all manner of colors from across the rainbow. Each window bore a different pattern, from a valley filled with nothing but roses, to a river bend, to a field filled with frolicking ponies.

Placed in the center of the room, looking completely dwarfed by its surroundings, stood a rather quaint banquet table, one that Twilight could’ve sworn was nearly half as long as it’d been the last time she’d seen it. Then again, when one lived in Canterlot for any length of time, one learned that not everything was as it appeared, especially if it was in the princesses' possession.

Sitting at the head of that table was Celestia, who appeared to be enjoying a steaming cup of tea, half a cleared platter of small bite-sized sandwiches, and a bowl of strawberries. She was looking to her side, toward a stallion wearing a stately suit who merely gazed at the diarch with an impassive stoicism worthy of any Royal Guard. For some reason, Celestia was looking at him with a mildly horrorstruck look, as if she’d just been informed that the pantry had run out of her favorite cakes. It was one of the few times ever that Twilight had actually seen her flustered.

“I’m afraid so, Your Highness,” the stallion responded humbly. “The communique was quite clear.”

Celestia sighed – actually sighed without any attempts to disguise it – and sagged slightly. “As… generous… as the Sultan of Saddle Arabia’s offer is, I cannot possibly accept two entire legions of his finest soldiers as a personal guard. To even suggest such a thing… No, no, please send a message to His Imminence politely declining his offer. Saddle Arabia has more than enough need for them, as I recall.”

The stallion didn’t bat an eyelash. “Very good. I shall simply rephrase the missive we sent to the Griffon nation as well. Is there anything else you require, Princess?”

Celestia took a deep breath composing herself. “More tea, I think,” she said. “Today promises to be a very… tiring day.”

“Very good.” With that, the butler bowed and excused himself.

Celestia exhaled through her nose, looking slightly forlorn – until she spotted the lavender eavesdropper standing in the open doorway of the dining hall.

“Twilight! It is good to see you,” she said brightly, smiling now. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the chair beside her – one laden with its own selection of untouched sandwich platter and steaming cup of tea.

Twilight continued to frown inquisitively at Celestia, even as her body automatically moved along to follow her mentor’s offer. “What was that about?” she asked.

Celestia’s smile screwed up slightly, becoming almost beleaguered. “Ah… so you heard that. I’m sorry you had to.” She then sighed. “It’s nothing, I promise. Just overly concerned parties being… overly concerned.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Two legions of soldiers is ‘overly concerned’?”

Celestia actually chuckled at that. “Honestly, you lose one small scuffle with someone a few months prior and suddenly you’re incapable of protecting yourself.”

Twilight couldn’t help but bite her lip as she took her seat. “But… you did lose …”

“Twilight. There’s no need to worry about me,” Celestia said, and the gentle but firm finality in her voice left no room for further questioning.

“O-okay, princess… if you say so,” Twilight mumbled. She fidgeted, hastily trying to shift gears, before remembering something. “Oh right, I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

Celestia smiled back at her, jumping quickly at the change of topic. It was a familiar, indulgent smile, one Twilight had been given a million times before in her quest for knowledge. “What might that be?”

Twilight carefully took her seat… but hesitated. Now that she was here, she was having trouble phrasing her question. How exactly to broach the subject…?

“I was… wondering… theoretically speaking… what’s so different about alicorn magic from, you know, normal magic?” she asked

Celestia paused at that. Clearly that hadn’t been anywhere on her considerable scope of possible subjects. Her hesitation was only momentary, however, before she arranged her expression into one of puzzlement. “Should I assume this has something to do with Applejack?” she asked.

Twilight fidgeted. “Well, yes. But I also wanted to know because, well… I don’t, and considering I am one…”

She then redirected her gaze back to Celestia, looking tentative. “I just assumed it was a combination of all three tribes of ponies’ magic wrapped into one.”

Celestia cracked a smile at that and chuckled. “Yes, well, we certainly aren’t limited in the scope of what we can accomplish,” she commented, “but it is much more than that alone.”

Twilight looked at her, but said nothing. She just waited for the lecture, like she always used to during Celestia’s many lessons. The sight of Twilight sitting there with rapt attention certainly warmed her mentor’s heart.

“As you know, Twilight,” Celestia began, “there are two kinds of magic in this world. There is the magic of harmony, or simply ‘magic’ in this day and age; magic that works in harmony with its environment. Then there is dark magic, magic that takes for the betterment of the individual, often at the cost of those around them. All forms of magic can be categorized into these two forms. All magic, save for one; alicorn magic.”

Celestia looked up towards the windows, lost in thought. “Alicorn magic is neither good, nor is it evil. It is, in the simplest terms, responsibility made manifest.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Responsibility?”

Celestia nodded. “Alicorn magic does not come from within us, Twilight. It is catalyzed by some exterior force.” She glanced towards Twilight with a smile then. “In a way, I suppose changeling magic is very reminiscent of alicorn magic. However, alicorn magic depends on a connection above and beyond just cutie marks. You proved yourself worthy of that higher form of magic when you yourself became an alicorn and the Princess of Friendship.”

She then leaned closer with a knowing grin. “Do you understand what I am getting at, Twilight?”

Twilight frowned down at her hooves, though her scrunched brow did little to hide her look of wonder. “That… my connection is… friendship?” she asked, looking up.

Celestia nodded. “Yes. More specifically, your friends. It is because of the bond of friendship with your friends that you achieved your destiny. That bond is where your power comes from, and why the Elements of Harmony respond so readily to you all.”

“Then,” Twilight started, sitting up straighter, “then does that mean your connection is the sun, and Luna’s the moon?”

Celestia chuckled. “Close, but it goes beyond that. I bring the day in all its facets, and Luna safeguards the wonders of the night. That is where our bond is. Control over heavenly bodies is just a perk, I assure you.”

“So then,” Twilight said. She was starting to wrap her head around it now. “Princess Cadance’s bond is love, right?”

Celestia’s warm smile answered her question. “Correct. An alicorn’s connection to whatever they represent, whatever virtue or power they embody; that is the source of alicorn magic. In the right hooves, it can be a powerful source of change or betterment for us all.”

But even as Twilight started to grin, her mind wrapping around a new concept, a dark cloud fell over Celestia’s face. “But in the wrong hooves, it causes nothing but despair. Many have tried to recreate alicorn magic over the centuries,” she said. “You have seen the result yourself when you faced King Sombra. Power of that magnitude must be earned. When it is not… it corrupts. Consumes. I have seen that very outcome more times than I care to recount, reached by ponies too full of fear, hatred or ambition to ever understand the forces they were meddling with. Never has such a pursuit ended in more than tragedy.”

She looked over, holding Twilight’s gaze. “From what I have seen, changeling magic displays all the hallmarks of alicorn magic gone awry. I had hoped my assessment was incorrect, and I still do, but… If it is indeed the case, the situation could be much, much worse than we feared. The loss of Applejack's heart could be the catalyst of something far more terrible than a mere lack of empathy.”

Twilight couldn’t even wrap her head around that notion. How could their current predicament be any worse than it already was? "What do you think could happen?" She asked out of sheer morbid curiosity.

Celestia glanced at her, and just by the grim look on her face, Twilight could tell she knew she wasn't ready to hear it. "Dark magic, Twilight, has one telltale characteristic, no matter what form it takes," she said, keeping her voice low. "And that characteristic is hunger. A hunger for more power, more authority... Just like the Queen who attacked us at your brother's wedding. If Applejack were to give in to that darkness as well, there is no tell what she might be driven to do."

Twilight gulped. She felt nauseous just at the thought. Dark magic... Could it really be dark magic, the source of that nagging suspicion in the back of her mind, that was to blame? She hoped not. Oh did she hope not... 

“Well, it was just an idea,” Twilight said, waving a dismissive hoof and chuckling awkwardly to ward off the sudden gloom. “Eh-heh... heh... why do changelings have to be so dang secretive?”

“Soon as y’all find an answer fer that, let me know,” said a voice from the open doorway. “Ah’d like ta know it, myself.”

Standing just inside the dining room stood an amber-maned changeling who was poking her head in just as cautiously as ever. “Beg pardon,” Applejack said as she trotted forward. “Ah hope Ah ain't interruptin’ nothin’.”

Twilight just stared. Whatever train of thought she’d been on derailed quite spectacularly as she saw her friend, up and walking, no longer bedridden. Applejack looked towards Twilight with a half-cocked bemused grin, exposing one of the pearly white fangs in her mouth more prominently than the other.

“Howdy Twi’. Been up long?” Applejack asked her. She recognized the signs of when Twilight was preoccupied.

Twilight sat in her chair for a long period of time, her mouth simply hanging open in shock. “A… Applejack,” she gasped.

That unlocked her limbs. “Applejack! You’re alright!” she cheered, jumped from her seat, and sprinted across the room like a filly on Hearth’s Warming Day. Ten feet from her friend, however, she paused. It was only then that she actually took in Applejack’s appearance.

She looked tired, terribly tired, like Twilight wasn’t the only one who’d gotten no sleep last night. Applejack hid it the best she could; she stood up straight, she smiled warm as always, but… There wasn’t the usual flash in her eyes anymore. They just looked dull and weary, like her heart wasn’t into the smile she was giving, not completely.

The nasty cracks and fissures across her forehead and horn seemed to stand out much more prominently under the light cast by the great arch windows, making them look like they’d somehow grown deeper and longer since she’d last seen them. Just the sight of them sent a chill down Twilight’s spine. At least she could take solace in the fact that no new ones had opened up since she’d seem Applejack last, but it was only a small comfort.

“You… are alright. Right?” Twilight questioned, worried now.

“Ah’ve been better, Ah ain’t gonna lie” Applejack said, and she at least sounded normal, “But Ah’ve had worse.”

Twilight gave her a dubious look. Somehow, she doubted the authenticity of her friend's statement, but she let it slide. She continue to take in her friend’s condition for a little while longer, but then broke into a bright smile. “Well, it’s good to see you up.”

“I’m glad to see you doing better, as well,” Celestia said with a kind smile. “Twilight was overjoyed when we received Pinkie Pie’s letter informing us of your recovery a few hours ago,” Celestia told Applejack. “Ever since then, we’ve been making arrangements to have you brought to Canterlot.”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “Ya have?”

“Of course!” Twilight said brightly. “Well… I can’t take credit. I’ve been digging through the library for anything that might help. But! With you here, we can put both our heads together to save your heart! And right now, there’s no place safer than Canterlot.”

“So Ah heard,” Applejack noted. “Seems like y’all have pulled out the big guns.”

“A precaution, I assure you,” Celestia commented. “Now would be a most inopportune time for a repeat of the events of Princess Cadance’s and Shining Armor’s wedding.”

Applejack and Twilight both nodded in understanding at that. They understood that feeling all-too well.

Celestia then gave Applejack an apologetic look. “I feel I must also apologize for throwing Discord at you unannounced. Time is of the essence, otherwise I might have sent a chariot, or brought you by train otherwise, and he was the only one who could reach you in a timely manner. Still, I am surprised that Steel Shod did not receive my notification of Discord’s arrival.”

Applejack’s expression turned sour at the mere mention of the captain’s name. “Ah’m sure he did. He’s just been more preoccupied with his own business to notice.”

Twilight glanced questioningly at her, but Applejack neatly avoided her eye. Celestia, however, sighed, lowering her head slightly as if in resignation. “I see…”

Twilight glanced at Celestia, back to Applejack and back again. “But you’re here now!” she enthused, trying to banish whatever dark cloud the current topic had dragged in. “With you here, I can monitor your symptoms and find a way to counteract whatever’s happening to you!”

Applejack smiled at her, but Twilight could tell it was only a token gesture. They both knew she was only trying to stay positive.

“I am kind of surprised not to see Rainbow with you, though.” Twilight commented, scanning the doorway behind Applejack as if expecting to catch sight of the rambunctious pegasus. “The two of you have been practically glued to the hip for months, and ever since we learned about this, uh, maturing process of yours, she hasn’t left your side for anything.”

A look crossed Applejack’s expression then. “It wasn’t my idea, Ah can tell ya that. Discord didn't exactly hang around ta take on more passengers.”

She sighed, looking down at the table. “Ah sure hope she’s doin’ alright…” 


~~***~~


Rainbow Blaze was sitting at home, enjoying a rare afternoon off from work. He had a newspaper open and was idly reading the centerfold, though he didn’t really pay any attention to what his eyes were taking in. Not like it was worth noting, anyway; more celebrity gossip, further changeling outrage, same old, same old.

In truth, this was the first time he’d been back in Ponyville in over a month. The life of a Chief Weather Coordinator could be a taxing one – on himself and his family. So every chance he got to visit his wife and daughter back in Ponyville, he did so without hesitation.

Of course, the house was empty. Firefly was likely off neck-deep in her own branch of the weather service, and Rainbow Dash, being the free spirit she was, could’ve been anywhere from here to the Crystal Empire by now. It being midday, he wasn't expecting to see either of them for hours still.

But even with most of a day to kill, Rainbow Blaze waited patiently, a little smile on his face and gleam in his eyes, ready to surprise his beloved family with his surprise return. 

As unusually quiet as the expansive cloud house was, Blaze heard the commotion outside all the way from the living room. He peeked up over his newspaper, through the artfully constructed cumulus archway and towards the stormy purple door expectantly, when –

The door flew open so violently it fractured, dislodging whole chunks of fluffy cloud stuff and scattering them across the entryway space. As if that wasn’t alarming enough, in tumbled a mass of writhing and kicking limbs, some blue, some pink.

Rainbow Blaze’s smile disappeared as he watched the lights of his life, his wife and daughter, brawling on the brand new cirrus rug in the entryway.

Dash tried to make a break for it at one point, prying herself from her mother’s grasp – only to immediately be grabbed again, this time around the neck by a pair of iron-hard hooves.

“Not calling or sending a letter telling me where you were!” Firefly was roaring as she strangled her only child with the crook of one foreleg. “Running off into the Everfree and staying out all night without my permission! You have some real nerve, Rainbow Dash!”

“I’m… sorry… I… forgot…,” Rainbow wheezed as Firefly locked her elbow around her throat in a headlock.

“Be quiet!” Firefly bellowed furiously. “Bad little fillies deserve to be punished!”

“Ne… need… air…!”

“Bad fillies don’t get air! And don’t you dare pass out or it’s ten laps around Ponyville with a wing tied behind your back!”

It was around then that Rainbow Blaze politely cleared his throat, looking bemused – and slightly worried – over the scene in front of him. Firefly snapped her head around swiftly, her eyes zeroing in on the stallion sitting cross-legged on the couch with a newspaper in his lap.

The transformation was as swift as it was startling.

Firefly’s face lit up like a Hearth’s Warming tree just at the sight of him. “Baby!” she cried, and in an instant she’d launched herself at her husband, half-dead daughter left forgotten in a heap on the floor. “I didn’t know you were in town! You should have told me, I would’ve prepared something!” Firefly said happily as Blaze caught her in a big hug.

“I wanted to surprise you, honey,” Blaze chuckled, and planted a kiss right between his wife’s eyes.

“Ugh… gag me…,” groaned Dash from the other room.

Firefly stiffened, going totally still for a moment before throwing a dangerous look over her shoulder. “Oh honey… that can be arranged…,” she murmured sweetly.

“Now, now,” Blaze chastised patiently, restraining his wife. “Firefly, honey, what have we discussed about disciplining Dash?”

Firefly refused to meet Blaze’s expectant smile and grumbled to herself – something about no corporal punishment and concerning the neighbors.

“That’s right,” Blaze chortled. “Now, why don’t you go get us something to drink. Rainbow Dash?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“Go to your room.”

Rainbow picked her head up and gave him a petulant look. “But Daaaad! I have to catch up to Applejack before—”

She immediately shut up when she saw her father completely let go of Firefly again in the same way a handler releases an attack dog from its leash. Though, ponies usually didn’t do so with such a benevolent smile on their faces.

“I’mgoingtomyroombye!” she yelped, and up the stairs she shot. A moment later, they both heard the door upstairs slam shut.

“Really, that filly,” Firefly seethed angrily, putting a hoof to her forehead. She slumped onto the couch beside Blaze. “I don’t know where we went wrong with her. She was out all last night, and just today, she went into the Everfree of all places! That isn’t a place for a little girl! I keep telling her and telling her, but she never listens!”

Blaze listened patiently, waiting for her to finish, then said, “Dash takes after you, dear. You know that.”

Firefly groaned and leaned her head back against the backrest. “I know! That’s the problem! Ugh, why couldn’t she just be a cute, sweet little filly like all the others and stay out of trouble… I mean, I tried! I really did! I bought her all those dresses and dolls and, blech, everything, but she’s just so dang stubborn! What’s so wrong with living a safe life, huh?”

Blaze fought back a grin. He really didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was probably her spartan methods that was responsible for Rainbow’s intense dislike for all things cute and frilly, the opposite goal for what Firefly had in mind. When it came to ingraining things in a young filly, taking a drill sergeant's approach to education might not have been the best one. He just held his tongue and let her vent, instead. She’d figure it out, someday.

Firefly sighed again, flopped forward and scooted down to put her head in Blaze’s lap. “The scary thing is, I’m one-hundred-percent sure she spent all that time with that changeling friend of hers.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Blaze inquire, stroking Firefly’s mane with a hoof.

Firefly mumbled to herself for a moment, then said, “Nothing, really… She just… she needs to hurry up and kiss her already. Those two are driving me up the wall!”

Blaze belted out a hearty laugh that could’ve easily been mistaken for thunder to anypony walking down below.

“I’m serious!” Firefly shot, though she was smiling as well. “With all the time they spend together, how are they not an item?”

“Well,” Blaze chuckled, still stroking her mane, “if I recall, it took us a while to figure it out, right?”

Firefly frowned at him and jabbed him in the side. “No, it took you a while, blockhead. I was the one bouncing signals off you for months!”

Blaze laughed again.

“I’m just worried,” Firefly muttered, settling down.

“What for?”

“You know what for. We joke about it, but what if…? Our baby and a changeling…? What if all those rumors are true?”

“Our ‘baby’ is a grown mare now, ‘Fly. We’ll deal with it when it happens,” Blaze said evenly. “But I seem to recall one of us saying how much she takes after the family blockhead. Anyway, how about that drink?”


~~***~~


Rainbow grumpily paced her room, if only to give her hooves something to do. If she didn’t do that much, she was liable to go mad on the spot.

Around and around she went, stopping only at her bed before pulling a one-eighty and stomping off in the opposite direction.

Grounded, at a time like this… life could really suck sometimes. She knew she couldn’t afford to just sit around doing nothing, but her options were somewhat limited. Next time, her mother might resort to pressure points, and that was a scary enough idea to keep Rainbow put. At least, for the moment.

“Stupid Mom, not listening,” she grumbled to herself, then paused and glanced at the door. No sounds of imminent death made themselves known, so she resumed her heated muttering. “Doesn’t she know this is an emergency? Ugh…”

She petered out for a moment after kicking the wall halfheartedly. It didn’t really solve any of her problems, but it made her feel a little better. The hole she’d punched resealed itself within moments, hiding the evidence of her outburst. That was one of the nice things about having a house made out of clouds. Otherwise, her room would look like it’d been made out of Swiss cheese.

“I wonder what Applejack’s doing right now?” she mumbled to herself. Then she smirked weakly. “Probably wandering around like a lost filly without me. Yeah… she can be pretty hopeless when I’m not there.”

The smirk didn’t last long. Pretty soon, she found herself looking out the nearby window and staring blankly out across the rolling fields of green, out towards the distant mountains on the horizon. She wondered idly which one was the Canterhorn. Could she be looking in Applejack’s direction and not even know it? Who could say?

She sighed again. “Pretty hopeless…,” she mumbled to herself.

A puttering sound caught her attention.

She looked up, snapping out of her dreary thoughts as a green shape drew closer, motoring along on a tiny propeller fixed to the top of his shell.

“Oh, hey, Tank,” Rainbow greeted with a smile.

The airborne turtle – or whatever it was Fluttershy kept insisting it was – oh so slowly turned to regard her, a questioning look forming on his face.

“No, I’m stuck inside today,” Rainbow grumbled, folding her hooves across her chest. “Stupid Mom… If she’d just listen to me she’d get it, but nooo…”

Tank blinked slowly at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” Rainbow shot. “It’s not like I have a choice; Mom’ll kill me if I run away again! For real this time. I don't know what I did to make her so mad, but she'd catch me before I made it halfway to Canterlot.”

Tank tilted his head to one side.

Rainbow glowered at him. “Hey, I am not wimping out. If it were up to me, I’d be long gone by now! Applejack needs me! Who’s gonna save her flank when she gets herself into trouble, huh?”

Tank just hovered at her shoulder, gazing at her with those big soulful eyes of his. Rainbow huffed then turned away, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, okay, maybe she can handle herself. But that’s a real big maybe, and I’m not going to just sit around banking on a maybe.”

Of course, turning away from tank only pointed her in the direction of the open window, and the distant maybe-Canterhorns. And the distant location of Applejack, far out of her reach…

She groaned to herself and resumed her pacing. “Think Rainbow, think… We gotta come up with a plan. Applejack needs you…”

Tank hovered in the middle of the room, ever the silent fount of knowledge, rotating slightly to follow Rainbow’s progress around the room. She continued in tense silence for a long time. Occasionally Rainbow would glance out the window, then speed on with a frown. All the while, Tank just watched passively, until after nearly ten minutes, Rainbow slowed to stop.

“Tank,” Rainbow muttered at last, to the floor. “Can… can I ask you something?”

Tank just stared at her.

“Applejack… Applejack’s the one who needs me… right?” she asked.

Tank tilted his head even further, bobbing up and down slightly in the air as his propeller cap puttered away.

Rainbow remained quiet for a long time, as if waiting for an answer, though she never looked up for it. Then, she shook her head. “Forget it,” she grumbled to nopony in particular and started moving again. 


~~***~~


Applejack stared out of one of the gigantic arched windows, trying to make out the sky through the stained glass edifices. Aside from the flitting shadows of birds, however, there was nothing to see. Meanwhile, Twilight and Celestia exchanged a silent look, one shrugging to the other. “I’m sure she’s doing fine,” Twilight insisted. “She’s probably catching up on some sleep right now, knowing her.”

Applejack’s expression screwed up for a moment, then she returned her attention to Twilight. “Yer… probably right. Guess Ah’m just so used ta havin’ her around it’s strange when she’s not.”

Applejack settled into an unoccupied seat across from Twilight, though she still looked lost in thought. At the same time, Twilight sat down as well, though the meal in front of her was all-but ignored now.

Twilight smiled understandingly. “A little time apart might do you two some good. Now… Pinkie mentioned you girls were going on an adventure.” There was a disapproving frown on her face, but she withheld her chastising comment.

Applejack nodded, completely unrepentant. “Yup.”

“Find anything useful?” Twilight asked, again keeping her first thought to herself.

Applejack nodded again. “As a matter of fact… ugh, but it ain’t gonna do us much good back in Ponyville.”

She sighed and started counting off on her hooves. “Agave, Bumblebee, Ma’s diary… Discord kinda left it all behind when he snatched me up and brought me here.”

“Well,” Twilight said, not quite listening at first, “we might be able to arrange to have a carriage pick them u—did you say your mother’s diary?!”

Applejack winced at Twilight’s sudden outburst, cringing back slightly. There were likely ponies in adjacent rooms who'd heard that. “Uh, yeah,” she responded. “Rainbow and Ah found it out in the Ever—”

“And he just LEFT IT BEHIND?!” Twilight roared. The vein in her forehead was throbbing now, fire in her eyes. Which, coincidentally, had constricted with fury. “As in, something that could solve EVERYTHING?!”

A whole night. One entire night of fruitless searching. She’d pushed herself to her limit and then pushed herself some more, all to find a lead. And Discord had just happened to completely overlook the very thing she’d bled for. Figuratively speaking, of course, but that was beside the point. He’d just left it! Oh, no, no, no, this wouldn’t do at all, she thought to herself.

“To be fair,” Applejack put in in a small voice, “he kinda didn’t know it was—”

“Hold that thought, Applejack,” Twilight interrupted swiftly, and with a sudden burst from her horn, she was gone, leaving only a circle of char on her chair and a wave of heat that washed over the room.

Celestia glanced at the spot and sighed before taking a bite of a sandwich.

“Uh,” Applejack started, “Where did she…?” when she cast her eyes over towards Celestia, she noticed her holding up a gilded hoof.

Applejack blinked, confused. She opened her mouth again, when all four walls of the dining hall trembled with the force of a distant rumble.

Applejack looked up at the ceiling, her eyes wide as dust cascaded from the stone overhead. Celestia didn’t even bat an eyelash; she just took another dainty sip of her tea, as benign as ever.

“What in tarnation was that?” Applejack asked, turning towards Celestia.

The diarch merely gave a small smile. “I imagine that was Twilight convincing Discord to retrieve that diary,” she said. “On a related note, Princess Twilight has been up all night and she is a little… frazzled. It would be best not to agitate her right now.”

Applejack started to say something, but was again interrupted; this time by Twilight rematerializing right beside her.

Her mane was a windswept mess, her body sticky with bits of cotton candy and ominous patches of soot. She had the biggest, most winning smile she could possibly have, however, as she hefted Carnation’s diary in both hooves for all to see.

“Got it!” she panted exuberantly. “It turns out Discord can be reasonable! All it takes is enough kinetic force to propel him at the ground at mach two! Who knew! Oh, um, Princess, there might be a teensy weensy bit of an uproar over the state of the western gardens. Just, um… just a heads up.”

Applejack quickly reminded herself never, ever to get on Twilight’s bad side. Unfortunately, she might end up doing just that when she noticed something.

“Uh, Twi’,” Applejack started with the utmost care, “Ya forgot the key.”

Twilight froze.

…

“There’s a key?”

“Yep.”

…

“Hold that thought.”


~~***~~


“Next!”

The gatekeeper’s voice was barely even audible over the din of the crowd, and yet the delay was hardly noticeable. In front of him was… well, it wasn’t quite a crowd anymore. It was right on the cusp of devolving into an unruly mob.

A huge gathering of multicolored ponies stretched out all the way from the train station down the hill towards Canterlot’s main gate, under which he stood. There must’ve been over a hundred, possibly two hundred individuals all cramming together, trying to get into Equestria’s capital at once. On a normal day, that wouldn’t have been an issue. The wizened old gatekeeper had seen masses much larger than this, particularly on the holidays, come and go with ease.

Then again, on a normal day, the main thoroughfare wasn’t choked by heavy barricades.

Instead of the clear path beneath the grand archway into the city, a path wide enough for a full grown dragon to stroll through without issue, heavy steel-reinforced blockades had been set up like an ironclad levy against the rising tide of ponies. Now, there were only four narrow channels between the mighty barriers only wide enough for one pony at a time to pass through the layer upon layer of security.

Magical scans, personal effects searches… The gatekeeper had never seen such stringent security, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. Granted, he wasn’t a very in-the-know pony to begin with, not having much reason to venture from the gatehouse anymore. Perhaps it had something to do with the shimmering pink dome encasing the city like a dish cover, or the many, many guards out on duty today. All the gatekeeper knew was that a bunch of burly stallions had turned up yesterday, hoofed over some very official looking orders, and took over from there.

Not that he was complaining. With things out of his hooves, it wasn’t him the impatient masses were shouting at.

But he couldn’t help but wonder why all of these ponies were here in the first place…


~~***~~


“Alright!” Twilight declared at long last. She slammed her hooves down on either side of Queen Carnation’s diary; the vessel of all the answers she’d spent hours upon fruitless hours trying to attain. And now it was HER’S! “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

“Uh-huh,” Applejack mumbled, leaning away as un-surreptitiously as possible in the interest of personal safety. That was a very fiery gleam in Twilight’s eye.

Celestia watched in polite silence as Twilight tried in vain to twist the wooden key in the book’s lock, but no matter what she tried, it did not budge. It took a helping hoof from Applejack, a flash of brilliant green light, and finally the book laid dutifully open. She watched in fascination along with them as the pages fluttered with a mind of their own, settling again about a third of a way through the book.

She allowed them to pour over the book without comment while she finished the last of her tea. A few extra minutes for them couldn’t hurt…

The moment she sat her porcelain tea cup down, a knock sounded on the double doors across the room.

Celestia glanced up – the only one to do so – and noticed a brown-coated guard making his way as unobtrusively into the dining hall as possible. When he caught Celestia’s eye, he stood up straight and saluted.

“Your Highness,” he spoke up loudly. His voice succeeded in silencing Applejack’s and Twilight’s banter as they looked up in unison. The guard, however, paid them no mind, and instead stayed focused entirely on Celestia.

“My apologies for interrupting, but representatives for the noble families have finished arriving.”

Celestia had to restrain a sigh. It was a hard thing, but a millennium of practice made her quite gifted at internalizing such negative displays when she had a mind to. “I see. Thank you, sir guard. Tell the court to expect me shortly.”

“Yes, princess,” the guard said humbly, then politely backed out of the room once more.

Twilight and Applejack watched him go, confusion building on their faces, until they turned towards the other princess in the room.

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight inquired uncertainly. “What’s going on?”

Celestia didn’t answer immediately. She stared off into space, lost in thought for the briefest of moments. Then, she turned to give her pupil a reassuring smile. “Nothing you need to worry about, Twilight,” she responded. “But I’m afraid I must excuse myself for the moment. There is some business I must attend to.”

She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin – though it was an unnecessary gesture – and gracefully rose from her seat. Both Twilight and Applejack observed her with some apprehension, but said nothing as she departed. Just beyond the double doors leading out of the dining hall, they saw two guards fall into step behind her as she swept away, and vanished from sight.

“Did… that strike ya as a might bit odd?” Applejack inquired, arching a chitinous eyebrow.

Twilight only frowned to herself, a nagging sensation in the back of her mind. The Day Court? At this hour? That’s pretty unusual… Celestia usually only holds it in the morning, unless something urgent comes up. Something’s not right here.

She was so deep in thought that when a hoof touched hers, she about jumped to the moon and back. When she sharply whipped around, she saw Applejack giving her a half-cocked smile.

“Ah know that look,” she chuckled. “Go on, git. Ah’ll be just fine here.”

Twilight bit her lip. “You sure? I’d hate to just leave you here…”

Applejack rolled her eyes in response. “Twi’, Ah’m readin’ a book in supposedly the safest place in the whole of Equestria,” she pointed out. “Ah’d really be doomed if Ah couldn’t accomplish that much myself. You go see what’s goin’ on and Ah’ll be right here, promise.”

Twilight still waffled for a bit, looking torn. It took her a second, but eventually she made up her mind.

With two bright purple flashes, she conjured two objects and dropped them onto the table in front of Applejack before pushing each in turn towards her as if she wouldn’t know what they were, otherwise.

“Quill. Notepad. Take notes and we’ll go over whatever you find when I get back,” she commanded. “Don’t leave out anything."

Applejack dutifully took up the feathered quill from its inkwell and nodded. “Ah get it, Ah get it.”

All the same, Twilight continued to stare hard until Applejack made a show of dipping the quill in its accompanying inkpot and quickly jot something down.

Twilight nodded then, before she quickly turned around and sprinted away, giving chase to the Princess of the Sun.


~~***~~


Twilight knew Canterlot Castle well enough, having spent most of her youth walled up inside it. More importantly, however, she’d like to think she knew her mentor to some degree.

After taking two hallways at a sprint, much to the astonishment of a pair of maids, and taking a spiral staircase perhaps quicker than was strictly safe, she found herself racing down a high-ceilinged promenade. To her left, the wall dropped away completely, letting in the cool mists of a roaring waterfall waft through the air. There were at least a dozen guards stationed here, maybe more – far more than was typical along Celestia’s favorite path to the court. The sky beyond the waterfall shined with an otherworldly pink light, a minor distraction that only caught Twilight’s attention for a moment.

What she was more focused on, however, was the ethereal tail and mane directly ahead of her.

“Princess!” she called out as she sprinted closer.

Celestia stopped, then threw a surprised look over her shoulder. “Twilight? Is everything alright?”

It was at this point that Twilight’s familiar sense of nerves caught up with her, and they were quick to remind her of the fact that she was about to butt into business that was none of hers. Crown or no, wings or no, she knew she’d never outgrow that familiar sense of a foal standing in the shadow of a mare – a child before an adult.

Of course, now it was a little late to back out. She was already committed.

“N-no! I mean, maybe, I mean…,” she flustered, steadily turning pinker and pinker the more words flew out of her mouth like escaping pigeons.

By the time she eventually spluttered into silence, Celestia had turned around to face her, a questioning look on her face while she waited patiently for Twilight to collect herself – a nostalgic ritual of theirs, she had to admit.

After a few calming breaths, Twilight straightened up with an inhale, and said, “Princess Celestia, is everything alright? You usually aren’t summoned to the Day Court in the afternoon unless it’s for something important. Is something going on?”

Celestia’s smile was half proud for Twilight having deduced that, and half disheartened that she had deduced it in the first place.

“Would you like to accompany me to find out?” she asked. 

Twilight paused, eyes big. Only once in a great, great while had Celestia ever allowed her to attend the Day Court. Her reasoning: Twilight was too young. For what, though, Twilight could not understand. 

It had been simple enough, even boring at times to hear one pony after the next bring their grievances or propositions before the Equestrian Monarch, things considered too major or too inflammatory to be handled by somepony else, or through paperwork. Celestia didn’t make a habit of inviting Twilight, not unless she felt there was a lesson to be learned. But for some reason, Twilight was getting the distinct impression that that wasn’t the case this time. At least, she didn’t think so.

“Alright,” she said, then seeing the quirked eyebrow she got, Twilight straightened up. “Of course! It would be my pleasure!”

Celestia chuckled, cracking a smile. It did not lost long, however; by the time she’d turned round and Twilight had caught up, it was gone again. Twilight couldn’t help but notice this, but her lips remained sealed.

“In truth,” Celestia said, “I had intended to have you and Applejack join me today. This was part of the reason why I wished for her to be brought here once she’d woken up. I feel that today’s proceedings will involve her directly, and I do not wish to exclude her from today’s proceedings.”

Twilight’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

Celestia nodded, but didn’t look down at her. “Tell me. Was the one who dislodged you from the archives a disheveled mare with a terrible stutter?” she asked.

Twilight blinked. “Peony, yes. Now that you mention it, I was meaning to ask you about her.”

Celestia nodded again, though she didn’t seem to be paying much attention. “Truth be told, I have only seen her on two occasions, one of them being today. Her line of work makes her a very… unsociable sort.”

Twilight looked up at her, worry eating at her now. “What does she do, exactly?”

Celestia finally turned to glance at her. “She,” she said, “reports directly to the Spymaster. Beyond that, I do not know.”

Twilight’s eyes got huge. There was that name again; Spymaster. Perhaps her wariness of the quirky mare had been well justified.

“For her to appear just to volunteer to retrieve you,” Celestia muttered, more to herself now than Twilight, “I’m sure there is meaning in that. The Spymaster has a very… unconventional way of sending messages to me, and I am sensing that this is one such message.”

A sense of unease now took hold inside Twilight. “Do you think I should go get Applejack as well?”

Celestia thought about it long and hard before finally shaking her head. “No, it would be best if she focused on her own circumstances at the moment. The sooner she figures out a way to overcome the darkness growing inside her, the better for us all. But if you wish to accompany me, I won’t object.”

Twilight processed all of that for a moment while frowning to herself. Celestia didn’t notice – at least openly – and instead continued on.

“I must ask one thing of you, Twilight,” Celestia said. Her tone alone would have given Twilight pause on a normal day. Very rarely did the kindhearted princess ever employ such a serious tone, save for the most important matters.

“What would that be?” Twilight asked.

Celestia glanced at her where she stood safely sheltered in her shadow. “Whatever transpires today, whatever is brought up, I must insist that you do not speak. This is not a matter I wish to get you entangled in.”

With those grim words, the pair passed through a set of double doors into one final hallway as they swung shut behind them with an ominous boom.


~~***~~


Thunderlane craned his neck over the crowds of ponies, a look of agitation on his face. It felt like they hadn’t moved any closer to the front gates, and he’d been standing in line for hours! Any minute now, the Day Court was going to start, and they’d finally have a verdict, for sure this time, and he was stuck outside of the city, watching from afar as hundreds tried to squeeze in four at a time.

He had half a mind to simply take to the air and sail straight over that stupid wall. He would’ve done it, too, if he hadn’t seen what’d happened to the last pair of pegasi that had tried. After that, he and every other pegasus was all-too happy to follow procedure.

Well… maybe not too happy.

“Ugh, this is taking forever,” he complained. “Can’t they speed this up any? We’re gonna still be out here tomorrow… Errr, What’s taking them so – oof!”

Thunderlane stiffened as yet another body bumped into him roughly. All this open countryside outside of the gates, and ponies were still smashed body-to-body.

He threw an angry look over his shoulder, intent on snapping at whoever the careless jerk was, but already they were slipping away into the crowd. He just huffed to himself as he watched her silver mane glint in the sunlight, then vanish amongst the crowd as it moved towards the gate.


~~***~~


The throne room of Canterlot Castle was astonishingly crowded. The seat of Equestrian power was an area of privilege; few ponies were allowed entrance on a whim. Rarely was the spacious hall filled with more than Celestia, on occasion her sister, and a handful of personally selected guards. Ponies would come and ponies would go, normally bothering Celestia a group at a time with their qualms and issues.

Today, however, was different.

Bodies stood wall to wall opposite Celestia’s throne. Everypony stood as close together as possible without being impolite, but there were more than a few daggers shot at neighbors in order to keep them in line. As soon as Twilight saw the well-dressed aristocrats leading the crowd, she couldn’t help but wonder if accepting Celestia’s invitation was a good idea. Even she could feel the tension in the air; the furtive whispering, the many motionless bodies, the keen eyes watching for any sign of the ruler of Equestria.

“Now entering Princess Celestia and Princess Twilight Sparkle,” belted out a royal crier, causing Twilight to jump. It hadn’t helped that he’d shouted it almost right in her ear.

The hall went dead quiet. It was disconcerting, even unnerving to Twilight how so many could fall so silent, their eyes watching every move she and Celestia made as they entered from a side door, calmly strode around the tiers of fountains at the base of the thrones, and proceeded up the ramp towards them.

There should’ve only been two thrones awaiting them; a golden, high-backed chair adorned with a blazing sun on top and a black and blue-trimmed mirror of the other topped by a crescent moon. Both of those were present, but Twilight couldn’t help but notice the diminutive, ordinary-looking chair placed on the left of Celestia’s throne whose only marking was a pink star affixed to the backrest.

Twilight glanced at Celestia for an explanation, but she merely shook her head minutely; it would have to wait until later.

Twilight awkwardly took her seat, feeling kind of silly and abashed all at the same time. This was the first time she’d ever actually sat on a throne in front of subjects. It was somewhat surreal, and far more intimidating.

Celestia didn’t seem to have nearly the same difficulties. She sat gracefully, took a moment for herself, then regarded the amassed group waiting impatiently for her to utter her next words.

“This court is now in session,” she stated. She said it with an almost tired resignation, as if already well-aware of what the subject matter for today would be, and yet resigned all the same to hear it. “Would the first speaker please step forward?”

Twilight glanced at Celestia, fighting back the urge to nibble her lip. When Celestia remained focused ahead, she forced herself to turn around, just as a stallion pulled himself from the crowd and stepped forward.

He was a big fellow; well built, as if carved from a block of rhinestone. He straightened up, puffing out his suit jacket like some kind of overgrown pigeon. It didn’t help that he fluffed his wings slightly, as well.

“The floor recognizes,” bleated out the crier, again making Twilight jump. He’d taken up position on the tier beneath her seat, unbeknownst to her. “Sir Canterbury Esquire, representing the Haberdasher family!”  

“Princess Celestia,” he spoke, giving a slight bow. “I was under the impression that we would be graced by the presences of your sister and niece as well.”

Celestia nodded in confirmation, but did not smile. That fact alone seemed to be putting the crowd of nobles on edge. “Princess Luna, Princess Cadance and Queen Applejack are, unfortunately, indisposed at this moment due to urgent business. My sister wishes to extend her apologies to you all, but as you are all undoubtedly aware, the powering of Canterlot’s protection requires more than the average unicorn can accomplish.” She glanced out one of the nearby windows and towards the shimmering barrier doming the whole of Canterlot. “My sister is required to remain with the wards for the time being. For now, myself and Princess Twilight shall preside over this court.”

For some reason, that didn’t seem to sit well with the congregation, something Twilight couldn’t help but note. Quite a few exchanged dark looks, as if questioning their chances already. That struck Twilight as being rather odd, given how fair Celestia was.

“Very well then,” Sir Canterbury stated seemingly without losing heart at all. “We shall simply have to rely on your and Princess Twilight Sparkle’s judgment in this matter.”

Celestia inclined her head appreciatively. “Thank you. On that note, am I to understand that you and your associates have reached a new proposition for me to look over?”

“Indeed we have,” Canterbury stated. “However, we wish to add a new topic as well.”

Celestia arched an eyebrow curiously. Twilight noticed, and couldn’t help but think that she’d somehow been taken by surprise. Such a thing couldn’t be possible… right?

“Very well then,” she said without missing a beat. “Let’s hear it, shall we?”

Sir Canterbury turned and motioned towards a mare standing behind him. She bustled forward, hooves full of parchment; not a good sign, as far as Twilight was concerned. By the looks of it, these ponies had a lot to go over. “First off,” Canterbury began while his assistant went through sorting the many papers in her hooves, “We wish to once again implore you to reconsider your stance on the recent changeling… presence within Equestria.”

It was at that moment when a great number of things suddenly made sense to Twilight. Celestia’s wish to subtly exclude Applejack from the proceedings at the first opportunity, Celestia’s resignation, and her strange request for Twilight to remain silent. She knew the kind of outburst Twilight would have fielded if she’d figured out that this was yet another attempt to cast out the refugee changelings taking shelter in their borders.

Why had she not seen it coming? Maybe it was because her mind had been elsewhere. But now that it was front and center, Twilight found herself dearly wishing that she hadn’t taken Celestia up on her offer.

In fact, it was only her promise to Celestia that kept Twilight from saying anything at all. She tensed, but forced herself to relax a moment later. She knew Celestia had seen it, because her response was somewhat delayed, as if she’d been distracted.

“We will hear your arguments,” Celestia stated evenly. How she stayed so cordial, considering she must have heard this particular discussion a hundred times in recent months, was awe-inspiring to Twilight.

Canterbury glanced behind him again. This time, he caught the eye of an equally burly stallion, though for significantly different reasons.

The stallion in question was pudgy, even roly-poly in appearance. Age had bleached his mane snow white, though he still had a fairly full head of it. Twilight watched him waddle forward with a big, pleasant smile on his face that gave him something of a grandfatherly warmth. So why a chill ran down her spine, she did not know.

“The floor recognizes Sir Bullion XXI, head of the Bullion estate,” barked out the crier, who turned somewhat sheepish under Twilight’s scathing glare.

Bullion stepped forward to take his predecessor's place and smiled up at the two royals sitting over him. “Princess Celestia, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” he said, bowing graciously to each in turn. “A pleasure as always, even if the circumstances today are anything but pleasant.”

Celestia politely responded to Bullion’s smile with one of her own, causing Twilight to scramble slightly to do the same. “Sir Bullion,” Celestia said, sounding almost amused for some reason. “I thought you might make an appearance today.”

“But of course!” chortled the stallion. “What kind of pony wouldn’t appear for something he himself arranged?”

Celestia nodded, ceding the point. “I suppose that is true. So then, may I be so bold as to assume that this matter is indeed related to deportation of our changeling population?”

“Clever as ever, my dear princess,” Bullion said with a brilliant smile and a wink that unnerved Twilight.

There was something about his attitude that confused Twilight. His chipper demeanor clashed entirely with the dark cloud hanging over the room. His was the only smile amongst the nobles, who all wore similar masks of grim determination that made the guards flanking the room look positively jovial by comparison. And yet, he was presenting something of utmost seriousness while casually conversing with Celestia.

It’s almost as if he’s not taking this seriously at all, Twilight pondered to herself, But why? If he’s so convinced he can’t win, why bring it up?

“I’m afraid I must bend your ear once again,” Bullion said. He even sounded almost apologetic. “But I must keep trying until you see our reasoning.”

Celestia smiled back. “Your reasoning has never been in dispute, Bullion. You and your associates have raised valid concerns in the past, which I continue to address. What actions you would take, however, are.”

“Fair enough,” Bullion admitted, “but surely by now you can see that some sort of action must be taken.”

A murmur of agreement ran around the room, loud and clear.

“Three times now,” Bullion stated, still smiling, still warm, but something in his tone had shifted. “Three times Equestria has been attacked by changelings, and three times there has been considerable damage with nearly catastrophic consequences. One very nearly toppled the entire country in one fell swoop and even brought harm to yourself! Surely you cannot deny the risk these creatures pose, and yet we continue to let their kind into our country, largely unfiltered, believing one inexperienced mare can keep them all under control." 

Twilight bristled, but kept her cool. She knew exactly who this 'inexperienced mare' was, and she didn't take kindly to others insulting her friends.

"Every day more changelings of questionable allegiance make their way through our stopgap defenses on the border with the Badlands," Bullin went on without missing a beat, "perhaps far more than we know.”

Bullion reached behind him, beckoning with a hoof until the paper-laden mare fished out a document and handed it to him. With a flourish, he produced a golden monocle and sighed down his muzzle at the piece of paper.

“At the last census, we estimated that there are already over two thousand changelings in Equestria, and while the rate of increase has dropped off sharply, it has not stopped. How can we verify that these migrant changelings are these ‘queenless’ drones and not deceptive double agents? Simple put; we can’t. And there are concerns that that number could be as much as double our figures and we have no way to knowing. The fact that such uncertainty exists alone should be cause for concern.”

He took a step forward, discarding the document for the mare to hastily snatch out of the air. He was clearly reveling in being the center of attention. He looked around, meeting the eyes of his supporters as if he were trying to convince them, not Princess Celestia.

“According to estimations, it will be another two, perhaps three years before we can call the Badlands border acceptably secure. Years, in which innocent ponies across Equestria will remain in danger needlessly. And even then, we cannot guarantee the Changeling Court will not find some other way to breach our territories to continue their quarrel with Queen Applejack and her associates.”

Bullion circled around the room while he talked, until he was once more facing Celestia.

“Your Highness, surely you understand that there is considerable risk being placed upon your subjects. As long as Queen Applejack and her hive remains in Equestria, the Changelings Court will remain bent on lashing out against her – and us as consequence.”

He raised a hoof then and waved it around. “Let me ask you something, Princess Celestia; if you were locked in a cage with two wolverines, would you simply sit by as they fought each other to the death and hoped they eventually made peace before they slash you to pieces by coincidence? No; you would find a way to escape, would you not? I know I would; it is basic instinct. Yet, right now, we are the ones trapped, and Queen Applejack and the Changeling Court? They are the wolverines. They will continue to butt heads until one is torn to shreds, and the longer we remain in the crossfire, the greater the collateral will become. Surely ponies as wise and learned as you two see that.”

Bullion turned then, and focused on Twilight. It was like he was expecting an answer from her, and he would not proceed until he got it. Twilight was just starting to feel uncomfortable when Celestia spoke up again.

“As I have said in the past, Bullion, your concerns are not unfounded. But you are mistaken in believing that the Changeling Court’s ire rests solely with Queen Applejack. Queen Chrysalis’ attack came at a time before her emergence, and she made no attempt to disguise her intentions. While presently Applejack is their primary focus, The Changeling Court has been very clear in its desire to dominate Equestria for their own ends. We will always be the Court’s target, with or without Applejack’s presence here. That will not change should Applejack and her hive be expelled; if anything, it will remove our only weapon to combat their threat with; knowledge.

“As you said, it will be a few years yet before we may consider the south acceptably cut off from Equestria. But that timeframe would increase tenfold without the aid of changeling counter-operatives. Without their knowledge of tactics, behavior and spellcraft, Equestria would be just as defenseless as the day Chrysalis attacked.”

Bullion’s expression didn’t change; he’d heard this argument before. Many times, in fact, as had most of the nobles and their representatives at his back. “So then, the only solution is to risk innocent lives while we remain on the defensive? Is that it?”

For one of the few times in living memory, Twilight witnessed Celestia’s expression contort as if she’d just been stabbed. “Do you believe I do not know the price?” Celestia countered, her voice as smooth as ice. “I know better than anypony here, about those who put their lives on the line for the sake of our safety. It might surprise you to know that not all of them are ponies.”

Bullion weighed Celestia’s expression, and for once his smile faded into a look of sympathy. “Then, what if I proposed a different kind of solution?” he asked.

Wary curiosity flashed across Celestia’s face at that, here and gone so fast very few ponies present even witnessed it. Twilight saw it, as did Bullion.

“What are you suggesting, then?” Celestia asked, but there was something… different in her tone, something Twilight had never heard before, and thus had no way of describing what it actually was. But whatever it was, it caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. It sounded almost like… a warning.

Bullion smiled again, holding Celestia’s gaze as he said, “That we reactivate the Trojans.”

Whispers broke out like a swarm of released bees, buzzing through the air as nobles and aristocrats of all calibers suddenly bent in towards their nearest neighbor.

The whole room was alive with sudden energy. Those who seemed to be in the know watched Celestia’s every reaction carefully with baited breath. Those that weren’t quickly tried to be.

Twilight sat on her throne, a slight frown on her face. She knew that name… She’d seen it in history books mentioned here and there. But for the life of her, she couldn’t recall where she’d read it, or why. Whatever it was, it must have been very old indeed.

She instinctively turned towards Celestia, puzzled, to find her sitting still as a statue on her throne. There was no shock on her face. No surprise of any kind. There was only a well-hidden look of sad confirmation. She’d known this was coming, Twilight realized, and for the first time ever, she truly looked over a thousand years old.

“I,” Celestia said, and her voice immediately brought the squabbling murmurs to a stop, “deny your request.”

Something flicked across Bullion’s expression, then. Was it exasperation? Twilight wasn’t sure. Then, he happened to catch sight of the confused look on the purple princess’s face.

He paused, thinking fast, then redirected his attention towards Celestia. “Your Highness,” he chortled, speaking now as if to a petulant child, “There is a limit to how many denials you can expect us to endure. Of all of them, how is reinstating the Equestrian military such a bad thing?”

“The Equestrian military?” Twilight said to herself, frowning. As far as she knew, no such entity existed, or had existed. The Royal Guard was no army; it was a peacekeeping force, not an actual militia, but it had been all Equestria had had for… well, forever. 

“Indeed,” said Bullion, now speaking to Twilight – much to her surprise. “Long before the Royal Sisters were appointed the rulers of Equestria, the three tribes came together to form a military to protect this fledgling country through some of its darkest years. It was one of their first cooperative ventures together, in fact. That military was known as the Trojan Coalition; a fighting force made up of unicorns, earth ponies and pegasi with the explicit goal of striking at Equestria’s enemies in the name of national security, to end sustained threats that could never see reason. It was proposed by an earth pony, no less, after which the Coalition was named upon the successful counterattack that threw the griffon nation clean off our lands.”

"Which is why there continues to be enmity between our two nations to this day," Celestia countered coolly.

Bullion turned back towards Celestia, his expression subduing. Celestia met his gaze with a carefully neutral expression of her own, much to Twilight's unease. She knew that look now; she’d withdrawn, keeping her true emotions private to the utmost degree. All she showed them was a stony countenance neither hostile nor benevolent. "There is a reason why I dismantled the Trojan Coalition after the fall of the Crystal Empire," she stated. "Violence begets violence. Hatred begets hatred. Such a thing undermines the very foundation this country was built upon."

Bullion sighed, wiped off his monocle on his lapel, then carefully stowed it away in his breast pocket. "Your Highness, there comes a time when we must ask ourselves what is worth saving, and what is worth sacrificing. The Court is not going to go away, and the longer they are allowed to plot against us, the greater chance they have of finding a way to overwhelm us."

He turned around trading Celestia's unresponsive gaze for the looks from his supporters.

“With the Trojans,” Bullion went on, “we could end the threat posed by the Court once and for all without dislodging our myriad refugees. For now, anyway. With an actual military, striking out beyond our borders would not be out of the question anymore. We could bring the fight to them and stop their belligerence against us.”

Murmurs of agreement ran through the crowd like a wave. The sound bolstered Bullion, bringing his smile out stronger still. “We would be ready for any threat, not just that posed by the changelings. Your student and her friends are capable, I will give them that. But for how long? And what happens after they’re gone? What happens if one of them, let’s say… slips?”

The breath caught in Twilight’s throat. Suddenly, she was focusing hard on Bullion, much to his satisfaction. “Just one weak link; that’s all it would take. And then what? What happens to Equestria when its one line of defense shatters? Or, worse still, turns against her? What do we do then, Princess?”

Twilight couldn’t help it. She was starting to rise before she was even consciously aware of it, a fire in her lungs and on the tip of her tongue… only for her mouth to remain shut. Her legs stayed locked in place, denying her attempt to shoot upright. Confused, she looked down, then to her side – towards the disapproving stare of Princess Celestia. Only a faint shimmer of magic danced across her horn, too little to be visible against the glare of the sun pouring in from the windows. And yet, it was enough to lock Twilight in place.

She shook her head ever so slightly, then turned back towards Bullion, her expression just as even as before.

"The fact is," Bullion said with a smile, "Equestria is vulnerable. You said it yourself, Your Highness; this is a land of harmony. The far south is not. If we cannot expect them to play by our rules, it seems only fitting that we would play by theirs. And the longer we go without doing anything, the greater chance of something even worse befalling our country. We need a solution, fast, before the Court makes its next move."

Ponies all around murmured their agreement. A few stamped their hooves enthusiastically. Celestia continued to look on solemnly, surveying the room. Twilight could only look at Celestia, her gut twisting into knots.


~~***~~


"So... it really has come down to this."

A pair of hooves steepled together as a stallion leaned forward on a round wooden table. His keen eyes stayed fixed on the large glowing orb resting in a cradle in front of him. In it, the scene in the Canterlot throne room shined back at him, coalescing inside the heart of an emerald fire.

He watched mutely as ponies applauded the fat stallion's speech while two princesses looked on in silence. Neither seemed to have a response ready and waiting. His eyes, however, only searched Celestia and Twilight over for a moment. The majority of his attention stayed riveted on the rotund stallion drinking in the support of his followers. He watched him, scrutinized him from afar.

"This is starting to become a predicament," he noted. "Perhaps a little friendly reminder is in order." With that, he carefully rose from his chair and trotted towards the door of his dimly lit office. He reached out and pushed it open with barely a whisper of sound.

A disheveled, looking mare was waiting for him on the other side. She merely gave him an inquisitive look, cocking her said slightly. "Y-you heading out?" she asked tentatively.

He nodded with a kind smile. "I wouldn't want to miss all of the fun," he said. "I trust I can leave the matter of Her Highness to you?"

His associate smiled and saluted. "Yessir!"

"Good. Now then, shall we go cause a scene?"

"Yes sir, Mister Trochanter, sir!"


~~***~~


Thunderlane groaned aloud, not bothering to keep his voice down. It wasn’t like his sentiment was alone amongst the gathered crowd. He’d finally made it within the shadow of the great archway leading into Canterlot, yet he was still at least thirty ponies away from actually getting in. That was thirty too many, as far as Thunderlane was concerned. His legs were tired from standing all day, his patience was about shot, and to top it all off, he was surely late for the day's main event, making all of this virtually a wasted effort. By now his family was probably worried sick to boot. Ponies all around him were just as fed up by the monumental delay. They only got more agitated with the end goal so close, yet so far away.

As he just stood there, crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with other short-tempered ponies, Thunderlane case his eyes around just for something to do. As he did so, however, he couldn’t help but notice a familiar head of silvery mane just a short distance ahead of him.

He glared at the tall, midnight blue mare, who had clearly cut ahead of him after knocking him aside. The nerve of some ponies, mares especially… If he could’ve forced his way forward, he would have gladly given her a piece of his mind. But at that point, nopony was willing to give up their place in line. So, he just stared daggers at her and pretended to squish her head between two feathers a few times.

Unexpectedly, she turned her head towards something off to Thunderlane’s left. He swiftly put down his wing, just in case, but when he realized she wasn’t looking anywhere near him, he curiously turned to follow her gaze.

She was looking straight at another mare, who didn’t seem to notice the look she was getting. She just stood at the head of the line, stiff as a board, head straight ahead.

“Next!” shouted one of the Royal Guard.

Four ponies stepped forward, including the tense mare. Thunderlane watched her with some curiosity, craning his neck to get a better visual. Halfway towards the first checkpoint, she stopped dead. Two nearby guards noticed, but only gave her tired looks. They’d been dealing with too many ponies to muster up enough juice to care anymore.

“Lady, please move forward,” one drawled, only giving her a token glance.

But the mare did not move. She just stood in place, not even batting an ear.

“Hey lady! Get a move on, will ya!” shouted somepony from the crowd at her back. “Yer killin’ us! Come on!”

The two dull-eyed guards finally turned to give her their full attention. “Ma’am, you need to move forward,” one of them insisted.

The mare didn’t respond. Both stallions eyed each other, then very casually – so as not to raise an alarm with the masses – took hold of their spears. “Ma’am?”

Finally, the mare reacted. She turned her head slowly, as if only half paying attention. “I’m sorry,” she said dully, “I’m afraid I might have something in my saddlebags. I forgot all about it until now.”

There was no inflection in her voice, no trace of concern of any kind. If she was nervous about whatever she had in her bags, it wasn't showing in the slightest. For some reason, that caught Thunderlane's attention, and he couldn't help but eye her carefully from afar.

Again, the guards glanced towards one another. Several more were turning their attention towards the scene now, but nopony made any sudden moves.

“What do you have?” one of the guards inquired carefully.

“Something from my home,” the mare said dully, then reached for her saddlebags.

“Hey!” one of the guards shouted, tensing, but it was too late. “Get your hooves where we can see them!”

The mare was only too happy to oblige. Only, now she was holding something in them.

Thunderlane couldn’t see from where he was standing, but it looked like some kind of pea pod, or maybe a leaf. More disconcerting was the way it was puffing like a pressure cooker.

“Here,” the mare said emotionlessly. “Try some.” With that, she lobbed the pod directly at the barricades.

Two guards were quick enough with their horns to charge spells and fire them at the oncoming object. That, however, proved to be the absolute worst thing they could have done.

The next thing Thunderlane knew, he was being bowled over by a mighty explosion that shook the earth. There were no flames, only dust and a wall of concussive force that sent everypony flying on a cloud of puffy white spores.

Thunderlane blinked up at the sky in confusion, not entirely sure how he’d ended up on the ground, or ten feet away from where he'd been standing. Ponies were running in every direction, away from the cloud of white fluff that had erupted over their heads and the dust that had been thrown high into the sky. Screams filled in whatever a high pitched ringing couldn’t in his ears as he righted himself and turned towards the gates.

The barricades were gone. Only twisted wreckage remained where it’d been blasted against walls and deep into the dirt from the force of the blast. The gate still stood, undamaged save for a layering of powdery white spores. Royal guards were staggering about, some groaning on the floor, others staggering about, looking concussed.

Not far away, Thunderlane spotted the mare that’d caused the explosion, lying prone on her side in a heaped pile of twisted metal, unmoving.

By the time he righted himself and got to his hooves, guards were pouring in from inside the city. At least a dozen came out of nowhere, all fully armed and ready for action, with still more forming ranking behind them. within moments of the blast, the entire scene was locked down behind a phalanx of spears and crackling horns. What the reinforcements came across, however, wasn’t the scene of an attack, but the aftermath of destruction.

“Get some healers down here!” one of them was barking out, waving a hoof. “I want the injured inside and the debris all cleared ASAP! We are closing this gate!”

Thunderlane started to lurch forward. The gate… His family was inside the city. If he was locked out...

A groan caught his attention.

He turned to his right, and found an elegant, midnight blue mare lying crumpled on the ground beside a pile of shattered defenses, her face twisted in pain.

Thunderlane’s heart thudded painfully in his chest at the sight of her. He immediately turned towards the gate and started waving his hooves in desperation. “Hey! Hey, there’s somepony hurt over here!” he shouted.

Ten heads snapped in his direction. Guards rushed in from every direction through the settling dust and milky white tufts descending from the sky.

Within minutes, ponies bearing coats with bright red crosses were bustling throughout the scene, gathering up the injured, and after carefully loading them into ambulances, quickly sped them deeper into the heart of Canterlot as the portcullis on its front entrance slammed shut with a resounding crash, sealing the city as a whole from the outside world.
	
	
> Chapter 15: Queen of Poisons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Drip… drip…

The soft plop of tiny droplets carried through the earthy chamber, periodically filling in an otherwise total silence. They were coming from a series of serpentine roots hanging from the ceiling, dribbling down along their lengths before running out of root to traverse and plummeting to a small pool below.

Agave watched the ripples running across the surface of the shallow pond, if only for something to do. She sat on her bed, stuffed manticore clutched tightly to her chest. She’d been sitting in the same place for… quite a while, actually. And yet, she couldn’t quite think of anything better to do.

With Applejack gone off to Canterlot, or wherever that strange creature had taken her, there wasn’t anything for her to do anymore. Which was kind of boring. Worrying, but mostly boring. 

Ever since she’d gotten back, she’d been shuffled off beneath the Vivarium for her own protection, and there she had remained. But it wasn’t like confinement was a new thing to her. After all, she’d spent all of her life safely tucked away within her mother’s hive like some precious gem in a dragon’s hoard, never to see daylight, save for the grottoes her mother used for lessons. Agave had never known back then how amazingly big the world was, and now that she’d seen it for herself, she found it incredibly hard to stay still, especially knowing what was at stake.

She didn’t want to just sit around now. But unfortunately, that was what was expected of her. Here, beneath the Vivarium and amidst its roots, she was safe from the Court’s – and by extension, her mother’s – judgment.

Then again, she’d been safe back home, too. Yet here she was.

Agave pulled her doll away from her and turned it around to face her. One of its button eyes was loose and lolling, and the threads outlining its benign smile were frayed and half pulled out. It was still the single most comforting face she’d ever seen.

“What do you think, Tica?” she asked it privately.

The doll just looked back at her like it always had since the first day she’d gotten it, on the only birthday she’d ever celebrated.


~~***~~


“I want to give you something, Agave.”

The little hatchling looked up, taken aback. The towering form of her mother stood over her, outlined by the diffused light filtering through gaps and holes in the severely angular stone walls of her room.

Even at that age, Agave understood one thing for certain; her mother rarely if ever addressed her unless she had some lesson in mind, something to prepare her for being a grown-up. Any other time, her mother was aloof, even ignorant to her presence.

“What, mommy?” Agave asked. She dutifully took a seat in front of her mother and turned her ears towards her.

Her mother lit up her impressive horn and cast her eyes across the unusually box-shaped room. Agave turned, using her forelegs to pivot herself around on her rump as something came floating off of a distant high shelf towards her. When she saw what it was, however… well, she couldn’t help but frown in confusion.

She’d never seen anything like it before. It was fuzzy, and brown, with tiny flimsy claws made of felt fabric, unlike any claws she’d ever seen. It had eyes, but they were blank and black, like two perfectly smooth lumps of jet. It had a mouth, and it was smiling brightly, but there was no seam for the lips to part from.

All in all, it was a bizarre looking thing, all the more-so when her mother brought it in close to Agave, close enough for her to reach out and touch it. Whatever lesson lay behind this strange object, Agave couldn’t even fathom it. And that worried her; her mother didn’t like disappointment, and she didn’t like disappointing her mother in turn.

It was so soft, the softest thing she’d ever felt before. Immediately she couldn’t help but squeeze it tightly. It smelled so strangely, too; of things she’d never seen or smelled before, places she’d never been. But, over it all, it smelled like her mother. Comforting, reassuring… safe.

Agave’s apprehension mounted all the more, her mind frantically working out what all of this could mean.

“T-thank you, mommy,” Agave said softly around the soft thing’s head. It was almost as big as she was, and she couldn’t quite get her hooves all the way around it unless she wrapped them around its neck.

Was she supposed to wrestle it? Demonstrate her ability to protect herself? Was she supposed to display her infiltration techniques using this… creature? Object?... as a medium? She didn’t know, and she was starting to panic internally. What was she supposed to do?

Then Agave glanced up at her mother, who was only looking on with a passive look. “Did I do something good?” she asked. It was more of a confirmation than anything; had she already failed without realizing it?

When Aconita nodded, Agave felt a sense of relief – marred by the ever-present confusion; that little voice she’d developed to second-guess everything her mother said or did to untangle her real motives.

“Yes,” she said softly, “you did, Agave.”

That certainly was a relief, but it only presented more questions than answers. “What… what did I do right?” she inquired tentatively, hoping all the while such a question would not trigger disciplining.

Her question caused something to cross her mother’s feature’s then, something little Agave didn’t have a name for. Emotion of any kind was so rare on Aconita’s face to begin with. Whatever it was, she at least understood that it was not a happy expression.

“You… lived.”


~~***~~


Agave jumped back to reality when a particularly fat drop of water smacked against the surface of the shallow pool in front of her. Instinctively she glanced around, quickly taking stock of the many nooks and crannies behind the tangle of roots all around her. But there was nothing to see.

Agave relaxed again, then glanced back towards her doll, looking troubled.

“Mommy…”

Why had her mother said that back then? What had she meant? Aconita didn’t reward her unless she’d done something of particular note; mastering a spell, for instance. To be rewarded just for being alive… that had seemed so strange, so unlike her. And it was the only time she’d ever done such a thing. She’d lied awake for weeks trying to figure out what her mother had been up to, giving her this very doll. Yet, nothing ever came of it.

What had she meant…?

B-thmp…

Agave jumped with a squeak and looked around. Piled on the ground beside her was a wad of filthy fabric the size of a bed sheet. Mud and gunk had stained it, and it gave off the pungent stench of swamp water.

At its center, something bulged.

B-thmp…

Agave jumped again. This time, she’d seen the source for herself when the round thing lying at the heart of the wrappings pulsed with an eerie green light that was bright enough to pierce the dense fabric.

Agave cocked her head curiously to one side. She’d been here for some time already, and not once had that thing shown any signs of life. So why now?

Another rhythmic thump echoed through the chamber – louder and more urgent than the ones before it.

Some part of Agave knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop a curious hoof from lifting and extending towards the shrouded Corastone…

A holey hoof fell on hers out of nowhere. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, niñita,” cautioned a familiar voice from the shadows.

Agave’s alarm shifted almost immediately to amazement as the owner of that hoof literally materialized from the shadows beside her bed. “Cassava!”

At the mention of his name, the one-eyed drone turned towards her and offered a toothy grin that didn’t quite reach his eye. “Pardon my interruption,” he said with forced casualness. 

For a long time, Agave’s mouth just flapped uselessly, her eyes huge. “You… How long have you been here? I was getting worried!”

This time, Cassava’s grin was lit up by amusement. “I thought you were the one who told me I didn’t have to hold your hoof all the time?”

Upon seeing the pout on Agave’s features, Cassava relented. “Alright, alright. I’ve been tailing you all day, just in case.”

“You have?” Agave said with a blink. “But… why didn’t you show yourself earlier?”

Cassava chuckled. It was a patronizing sound that brought Agave’s pout back in moments. “Niñita, Applejack might not know much about us, but these drones do. If they knew I was looking after you, well… You’d still be in a hole in the ground, but one with bars and locks, with a lot of very angry changelings asking very hard questions.”

Agave frowned at him. “I don’t believe that. Roseluck and the rest are all really nice.”

Cassava didn’t look the least bit moved. “I’m sure they are. Let’s not test just how nice they are, yes?”

While Agave shot him a petulant look, Cassava continued to eye the wrapped up Corastone. He waited, and waited, but all of a sudden it seemed ill inclined to show any signs of life. He didn’t frown at it, but a lack of a smile on his face was just as somber an expression.

So, it actually woke up, eh? Well ain’t that ominous…

“Guess it’s time we got out of here, Agave,” he stated after a pause.

Agave hesitated, doing a double-take. Her smile flickered slightly, giving way to a look of confusion instead. “Go?”

Cassava grinned wider, flashing his fangs. “Of course! There’s adventure to be had! Trouble to get into! Dastardly plots to foil! You wouldn’t want to miss all of it down here, would you?”

Agave glanced towards the door, looking rather worried now. “I can’t just leave, Cassava. Miss Roseluck, Applejack… they’ll get worried.”

Cassava followed her gaze, his expression sobering up slightly. Then, he turned back towards Agave, who turned at the same time to look at him. “Agave… your mother is still in Equestria,” he said.

Agave’s eyes got big, her breath catching.

Cassava looked towards the Corastone again with a measured expression as he went on, all bravado gone. “I had thought she would leave after the attack to watch things play out from afar, As she is wont to do, but that does not seem to be the case this time. She wouldn’t be putting herself at risk unless her mission here is not finished. Or, perhaps there is still some… how do you say… Uncooperative piece she has not managed to get to fall into place yet.”

Anxiety crossed Agave’s face then. “What is she after?”

Cassava shook his head. “I do not pretend to know Reina Aconita’s objective, but if I had to guess, Applejack’s condition will be at the heart of it.” He cracked a wry grin at his unintended joke.

Agave frowned to herself for real now. Her gossamer-thin wings buzzed almost imperceptibly; a sure sign that she was lost in thought, Cassava deduced. When she looked back up, she had on her best serious face beyond her years. At least, that was probably her intention; to Cassava, it just made her look cute as a button.

“If Mother’s mission isn’t done, then neither is ours,” she stated. Then, she faltered slightly. “I don’t know what I can do… Applejack is so far away right now, and the district is still locked down… but trying is better than doing nothing! We have to make sure Applejack succeeds, for the good of everyone!”

“Lofty goals and aspirations,” Cassava said with an approving nod, his smile flashing back to life. “I like that. In that case, we’d better get moving. There’s no telling what your mother is up to, but it most certainly will not be good. Of course, I have a trick two up my sleeve, as well.”

Agave nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

But when she made to grab for the covered-up Corastone, a restraining hoof fell on hers again. “Why don’t I get that,” Cassava offered. “You have enough to worry about without minding this old thing all the time.”

Agave frowned, but relented. “Well… alright. Where are we going first?”

Cassava grinned almost impishly at that question. “Oh, I have some ideas…”


~~***~~


The hospital in Canterlot was generally a calm place. With a city as large as that, there was usually a healthy flow of ponies coming and going; little teary-eyed foals clutching scrapes and bruises, elderly ponies coming in for checkups, and plenty of expecting mothers crushing the life out of their husbands’ forelegs in their delivery suites. Barring the occasional accident or – heaven forbid – calamity, there was rarely a call for alarm.

That day was just as typical, full of typical little occurrences one could almost set one’s watch to. Until the ambulance carriages started arriving.

Herbal Remedy had been sitting in the empty emergency room, doing a crossword puzzle to fill the time while a record player colored the air with smooth jazz; her favorite for a slow day. The next thing she knew, the glass doors were flying open, and in came at least half a dozen beefy soldiers plated in armor. They were carrying in several stretchers, with several more right behind them.

The moment she saw them, Herbal’s pen hit the desk, just as doors leading into the hospital burst open, admitting a stream of white-coated doctors and scrubs-adorned nurses into the fray. It was like two waves of commotion had come out of nowhere and crashed into one another right before her eyes.

To her credit, Herbal was only dumbstruck for a heartbeat. In the next, she’d sprung up and waded in with her fellow medical ponies. She may be little more than a receptionist at the moment, but she wasn’t going through nursing school for nothing.

In minutes, the whole emergency room looked like a field hospital for some terrible war. Ponies laid on stretchers all around the room wherever they could fit, groaning and writhing in pain. Some were burnt, others cut and pummeled as if they’d come off worse from an epic bar fight. Herbal had, at least, seen those results on occasion. But bar fights didn’t usually involve an armed escort of royal guards, some of which looked fairly banged up themselves. 

One by one, the injured were wheeled into the hospital proper for better treatment in appropriate wings. In the meantime, ponies like Herbal did their best to make the wounded as comfortable as possible until the nurses could get to them. It was while she was winding a length of gauze around a whimpering mare’s swollen foreleg that she heard the head doctor’s voice rise over the din of anguish.

“What happened?” he asked. He seemed to be speaking to one of the Royal Guard, who had his helmet off and tucked under one foreleg. “Was there an accident of some sort?”

The guard in question was wiping his face with a towel, clearing off a layer of dust, As well as something that looked confusingly like fat tufts of bird down clinging to bits of loose mane. “We’re investigating it,” the guard stated gruffly. “Once the investigation is complete, you’ll know more. So far spellcraft has been discredited, but there may be exotic flora involved…”

Whatever he had to say next, Herbal didn’t catch it. She was distracted by another stretcher coming in, carried by two first-responders.

“Could I get some help over here?” the mare in the lead called out as she and her accomplice set an unconscious stallion down on the floor.

Herbal bustled over and took stock of the poor fellow. He didn’t seem to have any cuts or bruises, unlike the others. In fact, he seemed in the best shape of them all, and yet he was clearly out cold. Yet visible injuries were not the only sort out there, and they could be far from the worst.

“What’s his condition?” Herbal asked while she looked around for a more official nurse. The mare responsible for wheeling him in shook her head. “Not sure. We think he got knocked out in the panic. Hard to say for sure. Look, we need to get going; there’s another group coming in that could use some help.”

“R-right,” Herbal nodded quickly, and as the first-responders hastily strode away, she turned back to the knocked out stallion.

Only, his eyes were starting to crack open.

Instantly Herbal was at his side and trying to get his attention. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

“Wha… y-yeah,” he mumbled.

“Do you know what happened? Do you know where you are?” Herbal inquired in as loud and clear a voice as possible, all the while preparing more gauze and just a little sedative – if needed. In her mind, she was cycling through what she knew about head trauma: ask some questions – “what’s your name”, “how many hooves am I holding up” – things of that nature. So initially she was only half paying attention.

“Muh…” was the first response she got. The stallion didn’t speak up for a moment as he blinked slowly, eyes unfocused, then said, “I don’t remember anything.”

The way he said it caught Herbal’s attention, grabbing her from her thoughts. It was strangely monotone, like he was simply reciting something he’d been coached to say. “You don’t?” Herbal asked.

“I don’t remember anything,” he repeated dully. “Nothing.”


~~***~~


The outside of the emergency room was in such disarray that nopony noticed a dark, midnight blue mare in an official-looking navy blue uniform slink around one corner  of the building and stride away from the amassed armada of ambulances gathered in front of the emergency room. 

Instead of trotting out along the sidewalk, the mare made a quick turn and slipped between the hedgerows lining the hospital’s perimeter once the coast was clear. When she reemerged seconds later on the other side, unadorned and plain, she could’ve just been another face in the crowd. Aside from a couple initially puzzled looks – she had just appeared out of a set of bushes, after all – she quickly melted into the currents of ponies coming and going along the boulevard. Nopony further noticed her and nopony thought to notice her.

The mare let out a breath, and with a flick of her hoof, stripped the hat from her head, letting a curtain of silvery mane fall past her shoulders. She’d forgotten what it was like out amongst ponies; the little feeling of exhilaration when she slipped in and out, unnoticed. It was a childish feeling, but a satisfying one nonetheless and she allowed herself a private moment to enjoy it.

Still, she couldn’t rest on her laurels just yet. Distracted and preoccupied ponies were one thing. By now, word would have reached the castle, and if Princess Celestia was half the mare she expected her to be, she’d be ready for her.

She paused on the corner of a busy intersection with a group of other ponies waiting politely to cross the street. Carts and carriages streamed passed without a care in the world, smiles all around. So many happy, love-filled ponies, just within hoof’s reach…

For a moment, she half considered nabbing one. There were so many dark alleys, so many little nooks and crannies were somepony could go missing without raising suspicions for hours…

She then forced herself to focus. Now was not the time. She couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration now. Still… those two across the street, sharing a milkshake…

She shook her head. Focus.

She forced her attention away with seasoned practice, towards the pony that had, so far, accompanied her step for step.

She was a young mare, charming and full of vigor. Currently she was staring off into space, not really seeing anything, apparently lost in thought. Her uniform was getting some looks, but not so many that it warranted concern, at least not yet.

The first mare looked her over, then glanced away. Her horn pulsed faintly.

Her accomplice didn’t give any clear reaction. Instead, she dully turned and trotted down the sidewalk seemingly of her own accord, bound for home, the biggest bottle of the stiffest hard cider her cupboard had, and then bed. Sometimes, the simplest tools were the most effective; when she woke up, she’d be too out of sorts to ever suspect the lapse in memory was anything more than the after effects of a good night out.

The first mare didn’t bother watching her go; her part was played. Instead, she set her sights on the next step she had to take. She raised her head up towards the great shape in the distance, visible even amidst these fancy cafes, hotels and shops that lined the boulevard. Far off, she could just see her next objective.

With a jaunty tune, the street light changed, and the gathering of ponies pressed forward, all bound for different errands and destinations, while Queen Aconita set her sights on the far off spires of Canterlot Castle itself.


~~***~~


The throne room was abuzz with commotion. Dozens of ponies were trying to talk at once, all semblance of order temporarily laid aside. Frustration rang in the voices of the many posh ponies, and for the first time in many, many generations, that agitation was all leveled at the regal Princess of the Sun, who sat on her throne at the head of the mob.

Twilight sat beside her, and if she kept glancing between the many faces that were bordering on anger, and Celestia herself, she was liable to develop whiplash. Something had to be done, she knew that, but she was at a loss for what that should be. Politics – actual, bureaucratic politics – was not a field she was experienced enough in to even keep up with what was happening, and it made her sorely regret not ordering those lexicons, Spike’s horror on the matter notwithstanding. It was only fifty volumes, what was the big deal?

Princess Celestia weathered the nobles’ rantings of ‘unfair this’ and ‘something must be done about that’, her demeanor sympathetic, yet unmoved. The debate had been going on for what felt like hours, and by now tempers were getting fragile. Propositions, concessions, compromises; everything and more whirled around Twilight’s head in a maelstrom of bureaucracy that she just couldn’t make heads or tails of anymore. One thing was clear, however; nopony was willing to go home until Celestia gave in to their demands on some level.

Yet Celestia had more years spent at the negotiation table than every single pony in the room combined. For all the political maneuvering and wordplay being thrown around, Celestia was apparently not budging an inch, if the mounting agitation in the crowd was anything to go by. Even after a hastily drawn up bill was introduced that was more convolutedly worded than a tongue-twister written by Zecora, Celestia pointed out its shortcomings in only a few minutes, to an all-new wave of frustration.

At the head of the mob, Bullion stood by and let his supporters’ shouts fill the air. His attitude hadn’t changed one iota, and he still carried himself with a grandfatherly air, his smile undiminished by the anger spouting all around him. Though, to Twilight, the twinkle in his eye now looked somewhat mocking. He just looked towards Celestia with a calm, bemused look, as if finding her resistance humorous. 

At one point, he turned and waved over a maid standing apprehensively off to one side. He whispered something in her ear when she approached, and she quickly jogged away. A few minutes later, she reappeared, now carrying a platter bearing a steaming kettle, a cup of fine china, and an assortment of hoof-sized sandwiches. He was obviously in this for the long haul, Twilight deduced.

When Twilight glanced back towards her, she realized that Celestia’s gaze had not wavered from the rotund stallion since the last time she’d looked at her. Celestia stared down at him, an almost imperceptible narrowness to her eyes.

Bullion smiled and raised his cup of tea to her before taking a cautious sip. That, for whatever reason, seemed to be the straw that broke Celestia’s back.

Celestia raised one of her hooves precisely two inches off the floor, and brought it down again with casual ease. The sound it produced was loud enough that even the debating group of nobles instantly fell silent, each and every one of them jarred out of their tirades.

Twilight couldn’t help but stare at Celestia’s hoof out of the corner of her eye, and she tried very hard not to sweat. Internally, she fought to convince herself that those cracks in the solid marble flagstones had always been there.

For several long seconds, the room was silent. Then, Celestia smiled. “Everypony, please,” She said with utmost kindness in her voice. “I understand that this topic is heated, but could you refrain from speaking all at once? One at a time, please. I can scarcely understand a word any of you are saying.”

Of course, now nopony felt much like speaking up. A dozen nobles exchanged suddenly apprehensive looks, their voices failing them. All, save for one.

Bullion stepped forward, taking center stage once more, and cleared his throat. “I apologize if I am being presumptuous, but I think our message should be loud and clear. We are all very concerned about the current state of affairs, and desire some form of decisive action be taken against this newest threat. If the… housing arrangements for Applejack and her congregation are not up for debate today, then surely the protection of our country is.”

A general rumbling of agreement circulated through the room.

Celestia’s smile did not waver. “Yes, I had gathered as much. On that point, we are in agreement; something must be done to prevent any more damage the Changeling Court might cause us. But times like these do not call for drastic actions. Whatever decision is reached, it must be done fairly and thoughtfully – and not due to ulterior motives.”

Several nobles glanced at one another – some looking upset, others nervous.

Bullion raised an eyebrow. “Ulterior motives?”

Celestia nodded, her smile still as bright as before. “Of course. I have complete faith that our leaders of industry – the ones who would be contracted to carry out such a monumental undertaking as raising, equipping and engineering a new army – would volunteer to do so for purely altruistic reasons. I would hate to think that one or two of those present would be proposing such a plan based on a desire for higher profit margins while disregarding the consequences.”

Celestia’s smile was so dazzling it caused several grown stallions and mares to wince. Bullion was not among them.

“It certainly would be!” Bullion spoke up, sounding appalled. He even had a hoof held up to his chest. “But could you begrudge them a little incentive to invest such a large amount of funding into, as you called it, a monumental undertaking? No other group in Equestria can afford to hoof this particular bill, and our troops would have access to the best money can buy.”

“Financially, yes,” Celestia responded with a nod. “But I am still far from convinced that armed conflict is the appropriate response.”

“Then what is?” Bullion inquired. He had that indulging tone again, which was starting to fray on Twilight’s nerves.

“Careful thought and consideration,” Celestia answered. “As you have said, the Court is unlike any adversary we have ever faced. Rushing to action will be a greater folly than simply doing nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Bullion countered, “but not everypony can be reasonable. We have a plan to improve the situation, into which we have place considerable thought and consideration; would that not at least warrant a second thought?”

Celestia paused for a moment. When Twilight looked at her, she could tell that Celestia wasn’t at a loss for words; she was choosing her next ones carefully.

“Long ago, I considered just such a proposition, almost word for word. It was reasoned that, after Discord’s defeat, an army would be needed to stake out Equestria’s sovereignty against overly ambitious neighbors. And so, I reestablished the Trojans. Long ago, myself and my dear sister Luna used that army to cut out our borders with steel and spell, not word, in order to bring an end to the squabbling and disputes amongst our neighbors brought about by the power vacuum left in the wake of Discord’s defeat. We used it to thwart any would-be aggression, instead of reaching an understanding. Do you know the result?”

Bullion did. It was clear on his face, Twilight saw. On it, his smile had slipped slightly.

“Fighting,” Celestia said curtly. “Fighting without end. One war inevitably led into the next. One group’s hatred fed into the other. In such a cyclical series of events, finances are far from the only price paid. To this day, the griffons still carry a simmering grudge against us, and Yakyakistan has remained deaf to our pleas for reconciliation, to name but a few.”

She looked up, meeting the eyes of dozens of shamefaced nobles. “This stallion you spoke of. Trojan. He had an heir, who was an honorable warrior and every bit the champion his father was, responsible for defending our land against countless invasions. Do you know what became of him?”

Several nobles looked to one another, confused. Twilight was amongst them, her eyes riveted questioningly on the side of Celestia’s head. “What?” she inquired despite herself.

Celestia turned towards her, as if only then realizing she was there. Her smile was gone in totality. “Ask the Crystal Ponies,” she said.

The heavy silence that followed was deafening. All eyes were on Celestia as she turned back towards the gathering, now struck dumb.

“To us ponies,” Celestia continued, “emotions are a very powerful force, upon which all else is built. Our magic is but an extension of our minds, and nothing is more powerful in shaping a mind than feelings.”

Twilight couldn’t help but nod slightly. Years and years of practice and experience had proved Celestia’s words to her. Having set more than a few rooms ablaze in her youth due to boiled over frustration, she knew her mentor’s words were true.

“Trojan’s heir – or as you all know him, King Sombra – is an example of what happens when darkness is allowed to take root. In the changelings, I see this same darkness, born of untold strife the likes of which we ponies may never comprehend. Even so, recent events have proven that this malignance is not all they are capable of. For that reason, I will not resort to drastic measures, nor will I dismiss them all as nothing more than a threat.”

Celestia looked around the room and took in the many disappointed and pouting faces looking up at her. “Let us not lose sight of what our true goal is; the protection of Equestria, not the persecution of another race. In the meantime, we should—”

Why Celestia cut herself off wasn’t initially clear to Twilight. She’d been looking out over the crowd when it happened. She turned then, and to her surprise she found one of the Royal Guard standing at Celestia’s side, whispering in her ear. Where he’d even come from, or how he’d gotten up the rise to stand beside Celestia’s thrown without her catching so much as a glimpse of him was either a testament to the guard’s practiced subtlety or a mark of how little attention Twilight was giving to her surroundings.

Whatever the stallion told Celestia, Twilight heard none of it, not even with the silence of the amassed nobles. He kept his voice down too low, but whatever his message had been, it was short; soon enough, he was leaning back.

Celestia looked back at him, her eyes suddenly sharp. She thought fast, her eyes flicking towards nothing in particular for a split second. Then, she turned back to the guard and nodded to him, dismissing him.

“Princess?” Twilight spoke up quietly. “What was that about?”

Celestia glanced at her, but said nothing. Yet, there was something in her expression; a grimness Twilight hadn’t seen for a very long time. That was all it took to set her on edge.

Celestia turned towards the courtroom at large, and raised her voice. “Good ladies and gentlecolts, I’m afraid we will have to set aside these proceedings for another time.”

The following outburst was predictable as ponies rediscovered their indignation. “We are not finished yet!” some shouted, while others raised their voices to cry out, “We still haven’t reached an agreement!”

But Celestia did not react to their shouting. She spoke over them, raising her voice just enough to be heard. “If you all have another proposition for me to consider, I will be happy to hear from you tomorrow. Until then, this court is adjourned.”

The finality in her tone left no room for argument.

At her behest, the guards began shuffling the reluctant and indignant nobles from the room. Even Bullion looked on the verge of protesting, up until he simply turned and left with the least resistance of the group. Twilight noted that, but only paid attention for a moment. She was distracted by the sight of Celestia quickly rising and striding away.

Twilight jumped up and gave chase. She almost had to sprint just to keep up with Celestia’s long stride as she moved out of the throne room and down an adjacent hall at top speed.

“Princess, what’s going on?” Twilight asked again, jogging slightly to match her stride.

Celestia didn’t seem to hear her at first. Then, she glanced in her direction, as if just realizing Twilight was there. “Twilight, I need you to go find Applejack and remain with her,” she said.

Confusion mingled with apprehension, a stressful cocktail that Twilight didn’t much like. “Okay. Did something happen?”

Celestia didn’t slow her stride. In fact, when she glanced away, momentarily lost in thought, she picked up a modicum of speed. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, before turning towards Twilight again. “Yes. There has been an attack on the front gate to the city.”

Twilight’s eyes got huge, her face paling. “W-what?”

Celestia nodded. “The scene was secured almost immediately, but… It would be best not to assume someone didn't get through.”

Twilight nodded, but she was frowning. She had no doubt in her mind who would be behind such a thing, but it raised a lot of red flags and alarms in her mind. “But why would the Court attack Canterlot?”

“I do not know,” Celestia said seriously. “Their actions have been far too brazen lately. First at the celebration, and now this. It is almost as if they are desperate.”

Twilight bit her lip worriedly, glancing away. “Are they really that angry with Applejack?”

Celestia frowned to herself, looking deeply troubled. “I am beginning to get the impression that anger is not what is driving them,” she said softly. “Not entirely.”

Twilight glanced at her, her brow knitting. Celestia remained lost in thought for a moment, then she glanced back towards Twilight, just as the roar of the cascading waterfalls reached their ears. They were heading back the way they’d come, destined for the dining hall that suddenly felt so far away. “Whatever the case may be, the sooner this threat is contained, the better. A panic right now would only add fuel to the nobles’ arguments and possibly garner more support.”

Twilight gave her an astonished look, taken aback. “You aren’t considering listening to them, are you?”

Celestia shook her head resolutely. “Not if I can help it. A war would end any hopes there were to reconcile with the southern hives, and the impression it would leave on our neighbors… no, I would much rather avoid it at all costs. And the toll it would take on Equestria, even if we were to win… No, raising an army would not be the answer. But Sir Bullion did have one point; I can tell my subjects 'no' only so many times. And if enough voices are added to their cause… I am not a dictator, Twilight. It is just fortunate that Luna and I are of one mind on this matter, or else we truly would have a predicament on our hooves.”

She then shook her head, straightening up. “But that is a matter for another time, and not something you need concern yourself with; I will handle it. For now, you should focus on your friend and whatever it is the Court is after. If they have taken the trouble of breaking into the city by force, then they are after something specific, and will likely be moving very fast. The quicker we react, the better.”

Twilight glanced around as they stepped out onto the promenade, her eyes flitting over the sheet of water plummeting from higher above. “Alright,” she said. Then she glanced towards Celestia. “What are we going to do about the intruders?”

Celestia smiled a motherly, reassuring smile then. “You need not worry, Twilight. Whoever it might be, they will find it very difficult to step one hoof inside the castle, if my sister has anything to say about it.”


~~***~~


In a dark chamber far below the castle, far from the last place the daylight could touch, Princess Luna sat on her haunches in a pose of regal disdain. Her eyes were closed, her horn alight with pulsating magic.

All around her floated a fleet of geometric shapes that revolved round and round through the air, forming spheres that twisted and rotated while giving off an intense white light. It was like sitting at the heart of a clockwork solar system made of light, embroiled in the great machinations of some arcane machine hard at work.

Luna herself was encased in a dome of arcane runes that pulsed intermittently with her dark blue magic. Tethers of ethereal light snaked through the air, connecting the many components together. The further her magic was fed through layer upon layer of runes, the more it changed color, shifting from dark blue to warm pink as it was slowly converted into something else. To a pony, it would be nothing special. To a changeling, however… that was a different story.

There was no sound in the chamber except for a low whistling produced by the spell circles themselves. In a way, Luna enjoyed the quiet. It was familiar, even if in a mildly unpleasant way. A thousand years to ponder could do that to a pony.

But instead of letting it get it her, she made the most of the quiet. It left her alone with her many thoughts, and while a good portion of her concentration was devoted to maintaining the complex spell, she had enough of her faculties to allow for some pondering. And in the quiet, there was nothing to do but ponder.

She’d felt the disturbance at the front gate. The ripple of the explosion beating across the outer layer of the barrier connected directly to her had felt like a sudden bout of shivers. It made her frown to herself. Something was happening out there, she could feel it, but she wasn’t sure what.

She’d half considered breaking away some of her concentration to send her sister a warning, but thought better of it. Her attention was best left to the task before her; one lapse could spell even worse disaster if she were to allow something through. Besides, if it was serious enough, she had no doubt that Celestia would already be better appraised of the situation than she was presently.

And then, out of nowhere, she felt something.

It wasn’t much, and in fact was barely even perceptible. But Luna’s senses were so keyed through isolation and concentration that she picked up on the tiniest of fluctuations. Quickly she took stock of her barriers, and realized it had come from the inner layer – the one covering Canterlot Castle itself.

Had it been a bird hitting the barrier? Some filly or colt tossing stones at it? Concerning the latter, she sincerely hoped not, for their sake. But what could it have been? Whatever it was, that particular spot suddenly had her undivided attention.


~~***~~


Queen Aconita stood just outside the high walls of Canterlot Castle. On one side, the mighty Canterhorn shot towards the late afternoon sky in a broad pillar of weathered granite. On the other, the cityscape of Canterlot made a jagged horizon of glittering rooftops and archways that were still dazzling beneath the glaring sunlight. Behind her, the moat gurgled with a gentle current. She would’ve made quite the auspicious sight standing on the small band of grass that parted the castle from its watery channel, if it weren’t for the beautiful hedgerows between her and any prying eyes. Truly, the groundskeeper was to be commended for his taste in landscaping.

She gazed almost straight up, eyeing the wall of pink light that barred her way. As she’d suspected, the entire perimeter of the castle was sheathed in magic, and powerful magic at that.

With a flick of her midnight blue horn, she tossed another twig at the barrier, pointy end first. It struck, and instantly rebounded hard enough to whiz past her ear, across the artificial river, and through a window in a neighboring household in the distance.

Very powerful magic. That had been an even stronger reaction than before. One of the princesses must be responsible; there was no doubt about it.

For a moment, she weighed her options. As amusing as it’d be to sneak in through the front door, she had no doubt that security would be far too tight, even with a whole troop of patsies, and she didn’t have the time to assemble the necessary force to begin with. 

She could try to force her way through the barrier, but even she had to admit that she had nowhere near enough strength to accomplish that, and even if she did, the resulting… commotion… would surely bring every guard pony in a ten mile radius down on her head. Not exactly a subtle option.

So then, what to do…?

And that was when something very unexpected happened. Unexpected, and very peculiar.

As she stood there, scheming to herself, a doorway appeared right in front of her with a small pop. No warning was given at all; one instant the space in front of her was empty. The next, there was an oaken door right in front of her nose.

The mare automatically took a step back in surprise, her eyes flashing around warily. But nothing else had happened.

The door stood in place inside the barrier barring her way, looking absolutely absurd – not to mention completely impossible – sprouting up where it was. There was a small peephole set rather high on its front, but otherwise it was unadorned. The cheery “Welcome!” doormat didn’t help, either.

She stood in place, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her wariness only doubled when the doorknob squeaked, twisted by itself, and with a click, the door swung inwards.

Beyond the doorway laid a thin strip of grass and the old masonry of the castle walls. No pink light, no repelling force… nothing.

The mare narrowed her eyes even further. She glanced down towards the welcome mat. For some reason, just the sight of it irritated her, because for whatever reason, she was starting to get the craziest feeling that she, of all creatures, was being invited in. Who in their right mind would do such a thing?

She glanced back up towards the open and awaiting doorway, and then with her head held high, she stepped through the parted barrier, scowling all the way.


~~***~~


What was that?

Princess Luna cracked open one of her eyes and shot a look towards one of the orbiting spheres of runes drifting around her. It moved like it should have, layers of rings and squares and triangles spinning in opposite directions. Yet, something wasn’t right… Something had just interrupted the flow of her magic, of that she was certain. It’d been so effortless, so casual… So familiar.

Princess Luna found her lip curling with annoyance as it started to dawn on her what – or rather, who – the culprit was.


~~***~~


The moment she saw him, she knew he was trouble. Aconita had heard stories, and she’d harbored her suspicions all the way over the wall and into the adjacent courtyard filled with all manner of flowering plant-life. But when she saw him, she had the sneaking suspicion that she would’ve been better off staying put.

It didn’t help that he was holding his thumb up towards her, sighting down the tip of a claw as he sat before an easel, paint brush in one paw and a beret pushed over one side of his head.

“My, my, you’re taller than I was expecting,” noted Discord, sounding somewhat surprised. “Not exactly a subtle disguise, wouldn’t you say?”

The mare stopped ten feet from the floating dragonequus painter, her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked tersely.

Discord put a paw to his chest, looking surprised that she would ask. “Me? Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just a curious spectator who can’t get enough of your antics. Loved that stunt you pulled with the exploding airship, by the way. The look on everypony’s faces… priceless!”

She looked the creature up and down warily. There was something that unnerved her about him, and it wasn’t just the amalgamation of animal parts that made up his body. She, of all ponies, knew that books could rarely be judged by their covers, and this creature in front of her was giving her that sense in spades.

“Now I see,” she said. “You are the one named Discord, are you not?”

“In the flesh,” Discord said brightly, flashing a wolfish smile. “Spirit of chaos, former enemy to all of Equestria. But as you’ve no doubt heard, I’d been successfully reformed but the great and benevolent Princess Celestia!”

He leaned in uncomfortably close, his neck seeming to extend absurdly until they were cheek to cheek. “See?” he said humorously, and in his claw was a very official-looking certificate that said, in big bold golden lettering, “You tried!” amid a shower of confetti and a crudely drawn picture of himself, claws thrown up in celebration and a big, goofy smile on his face.

“Clearly,” his visitor muttered, leaning away from him. His breath smelled sickly sweet, like chocolate and candy… along with something rancid.

To her surprise, it was the little drawing on the certificate that responded; it put its crooked hands on its equally crooked hips and shot her a snide look. “Oh, but I know all about you, my dear. You could say I am your biggest fan, Queen Aconita.”

The mare narrowed her eyes coldly. “Are your powers of deduction supposed to impress me?” she asked.

With a flash and a pop, Discord vanished. For a moment or two, at least; he reformed a split second later, standing upright, arms folded behind his back, costumes and props gone. His annoying smile, however, was still in place as he sized Aconita up.

“Since introductions are out of the way,” Aconita quipped, “Perhaps you could tell me why you let me through. Am I to take this as an act of defiance to the princesses?”

To that, Discord pursed his lips, grinning all the while. “That seems a little one-dimensional, don’t you think?” he said. “I only want to get to know you better. To break into Canterlot Castle and risk butting into not one, not two, but three princesses in one go, not to mention a particularly grumpy queen-in-the-making… Either those are the actions of a master tactician, or a madpony. And since I didn’t see you at last week’s soiree, I’m going to assume it’s the former. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed for the latter.”

Folding his claws behind his back, Discord swaggered closer. “The way I see it, I can try to figure out what your game is before you finish, but where’s the fun in that? I think it would be much more amusing to let you carry on with your business and see what becomes of it for myself.”

Aconita made no move, even as he started to circle round her, eyeing her like a lion might eye a trapped gazelle. “Is this a game to you?” she inquired.

Discord chuckled. “Me? Play games? No no, you see, I see this as an… opportunity.”

Aconita raised an eyebrow at him. Discord, in turn, flipped over onto his back and floated in midair. “Surely by now you know that the princesses are no closer to finding out your agenda than they were six months ago,” he said. “I must admit, even I am at something of a loss, myself. Oh, how I’ve puzzled and puzzled day in and out. Yet, whatever rhyme or reason you and your associates have, I can’t seem to spot it. And I must say, it’s driving me up a wall!”

To better illustrate his point, he put a hoofed leg on the wall behind her, and started walking straight up it.

“And so you want me to play my hand to force theirs,” Aconita deduced.

Discord smiled. “Something like that.”

Aconita eyed the stranger creature with a stony expression, concealing her thoughts. Now I see…

“And if I refuse to play by your rules?” Aconita inquired tersely.

To that, Discord belted out a hearty laugh, like she’d just suggested the most ludicrous thing in the world. He paused, saw she was serious, and proceeded to laugh even harder.

Aconita was not so amused.

“As…” he snorted, then composed himself, “As amusing as that would be, let’s try not to cause a scene, shall we? I would hate for the princesses to catch on before we’ve had our fun.”

“That won’t do.”

Discord glance towards her, down his snout, and raised one bushy eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Aconita was staring right at him, a frigid look on her face. “You see, a scene is exactly what I’m here to cause,” she stated, as her horn started to crackle. “And I have no more time for games.”


~~***~~


Twilight wasn’t rushing. Not really. One just needed a healthy pace to get the heart pumping, that’s all. It was for health reasons, and health reasons only.

Probably.

She flashed a very big grin at a patrolling guard, who raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t slow his stride. He bowed respectfully as she passed, then paid her no further mind.

That’s it… just keep cool, Twilight thought to herself. Everything’s okay… It’s just another day in Canterlot. Nothing weird or dangerous or life-threatening here! Nope!

Twilight nodded to herself and glanced around. A maid caught her eye, then immediately averted her gaze nervously and busied herself with a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

Or was she just trying to look busy?

Twilight glanced back at her out of the corner of her eye, and did not avert her gaze from the potentially suspicious mare, who seemed to be getting more and more nervous the longer Twilight observed her.

“I am going to kill her!”

The angry shriek made Twilight jump in alarm and lose focus – much to the relief of the poor maid enduring her glare up to that point.

Further down the hall, two more maids were standing in a doorway. One was clearly fuming as she stormed away from the other, who looked intensely fretful. “She was supposed to order marigolds! Marigolds! Not two dozen golden mares! What are we supposed to do with all those statues?!”

While the second maid tried to calm her companion down, Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. She was letting all of this get to her. Princess Celestia had promised that they were safe, after all. And if the princess herself said so, who was she to question it?

Twilight nodded to herself and straightened up. Yes, the castle was perfectly safe, as was Applejack. There was no need to worry about anything. She took one step forward, and was just starting to feel some sense of relief… when the sound of a distant explosion rumbled through the stone walls all around her.

Maids and guards alike all looked up, taking note of the trickles of dust cascading from the roof, looks of confusion and mild concern coloring their features. “Not another one,” one spoke up, sounding exasperated. “The western gardens are still a mess!”

Twilight, however, stared off into the distance; down the extensive hall that seemed to go on forever, straight as an arrow. For some reason, her throat was suddenly feeling very dry and tight.

“Um… princess?”

Twilight jumped slightly, then turned. Beside her, one of the maids was eyeing her apprehensively. “If you don’t mind my asking… what was that just now?”

Twilight was almost afraid to answer, namely because she had a very good idea of what might be responsible. She was still reeling, but nevertheless she opened her mouth to give some kind of response.

That was when a section of wall and window fifty yards in front of her exploded in a shower of dust, glass and rubble.

Ponies all up and down the hall screamed as a choking cloud billowed forth, swallowing the hall in blinding powdered grit. Twilight managed to throw up a wall of magic out of pure reflex, which parted the dust around her as it filled the hall up to the vaulted ceiling.

Twilight coughed against the airborne grit and powdered glass clogging the air. She squinted, trying to see through the clouds swirling in front of her, but there was nothing to see but more clouds and dust.

Ponies were shouting and screaming, their voices fading into the distance as they sprinted away. One bumped into her in the pony’s haste to flee, nearly tossing her over. By the time Twilight looked around, the figure had already vanished into the swirling haze.

But theirs wasn’t the only activity she picked up. Something was in front of her, something that scuffed and scraped across the floor in a steady, rhythmic fashion, like claws on marble.

As the dust began to settle, Twilight started to make out a tall form in front of her, a very tall one, who seemed to be standing in the middle of the hall.

“Discord!” Twilight shouted, somewhere between astonished and angry. “What did you do?”

In front of her, the figure twisted its head around and looked at her. There was no mistaking those asymmetrical horns, even through the billowing dust.

“Oh, Twilight! fancy meeting you here,” Discord noted. For somepony that had just blown a hole in the castle wall, he certainly sounded chipper, much to Twilight’s annoyance.

“What’s gotten into you?” she shouted at him. “You could’ve hurt somepony!”

“Me?” Discord replied, sounding astonished. “I would never! Frankly, my dear, your accusations wound me.”

“Discord,” Twilight growled through gritted teeth.

“Fine, fine,” he responded, throwing his paw and claw up into the air in defeat. One of them, Twilight noted, was occupied by a long object. “If you really must know, I was dealing with a bothersome pest, which I may or may not have swatted a teensy bit too hard.”

The dust had finally settled enough for Twilight to make out Discord properly. He was standing amid a pile of rubble and glass from a shattered arch window, a part of which was still sitting propped up behind him. In his claw, he was carrying some kind of bat, though ridiculously oversized and fat. It looked so much like a foal’s wiffle ball bat it wasn’t funny; bright yellow, flimsy plastic, and marred by a great big dent near the tip where it’d struck something.

With his other paw, he was pointing across the hall from him – towards a heaped pile of rubble. At the very base, Twilight saw, was a long, gangly foreleg protruding out from under monstrous slabs of solid stone.

Twilight’s eyes got huge at the sight of it. She was still some distance away, but she could tell how long it was anyway. That was not the limb of a drone.

“A… A queen? Here?!” Twilight gasped under her breath. Then, she turned a sharp gaze towards Discord, who was casually swinging his bat to and fro while blowing a big bubblegum bubble.

“How did she get passed the princesses’ barrier?” she inquired.

Discord glanced at her nonchalantly, snapped his fingers, and spat out the wad of gum into a conjured spittoon, producing a bell note. “Details,” Discord dismissed. “What is more important is that she is dealt with, right?”

“I… suppose,” admitted Twilight. He did have a point, though she’d never admit to as much. Still, she’d be doing a thorough investigation later.

Twilight redirected her gaze back to the motionless limb sticking out for all to see. Its very presence in the castle was alarming, enough to make Twilight feel a little light headed. A queen… A changeling queen, of all things… For the Court to actually send one of its leaders to deal with Applejack… Some part of her thought this was too easy. Way too easy...

“We need to tell Princess Celestia,” Twilight stated, casting aside her doubts. “She will need to know about this.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Discord sighed. He strolled over, tossed his childish weapon over his shoulder without a second thought, and took hold of the lifeless hoof protruding from the pile of debris.

The shredding sound of paper filled the air, and before Discord’s eyes, the hoof fell apart – not into bloody bits, but into scraps of a black cloth-like substance, like a dress form losing its shape.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening. He paused, staring at the unraveled limb. And when comprehension dawned on him, his eyes widened in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed aside a one ton slab of stone with alarming ease, causing Twilight to stare in shock. But Discord didn’t notice. His eyes were riveted on what should’ve been a broken body lying underneath. Instead, he was presented with a pile of torn, jet black papery remains, like the leftovers of a camp fire.

“Ah…”

Twilight stared at him, at the tattered husk, and back again. “What? Where is…”

And then it dawned on her, as well. “Oh no…”

Twilight raised her gaze from the crumbling decoy, intending to look towards Discord… when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

At the far end of the hall, so very far away, a towering black figure casually rounded the corner, and with a flick of a sapphire tail full of holes, she was gone.

“Hey!” Twilight shouted, and in a flash of light, she teleported. In an instant she cleared the distance, rematerializing so suddenly that she stumbled slightly. But she didn’t have time to spare. She turned and stared down the hall running perpendicular to the one she’d been in. The very same one that would take her back to the dining hall, and to Applejack.

But when Twilight rematerialized on the corner, she found the hallway empty, save for a discarded broom here and a feather duster there. No tall, gangly queen, or any sign of anypony at all.

But Twilight didn’t have to think twice about where she would be heading.

“Discord!” Twilight shouted over one shoulder. “Find Princess Celestia and tell her what’s happened! I’m going after her!”

Without wasting a second, she galloped at full speed down the corridor, praying all the while that she wasn’t as far behind as she felt.

Discord watched her go, expression carefully blank. Right up until she’d vanished from sight. Only then did he allow the huge grin to sprout.

This changeling was turning out to be even more entertaining than he could have hoped for!


~~***~~


With a yawn, Applejack stretched, eliciting a series of cracks and pops from her spine and chitin. Exhaustion weighed down on her; it felt like she hadn’t slept in days.

But sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. There was still too much to do.

She clenched her eyes shut tight, squeezing them hard, then opened them again. It took a moment, but her sight refocused on the dining hall table, the opened diary resting dutifully between a set of black, holey forelegs, and a notepad set off to one side that was covered in quickly penned writing.

Applejack couldn’t help but compare her own hoof writing with that of her mother’s, and privately she was glad nopony else was there to do the same. Compared to the sweeping, elegant calligraphy written in the diary, her own penmanship looked like chicken scratch. She tried not to dwell on it, but well… it was right under her nose.

Applejack forced herself to turn her eyes away and focus on the open diary instead. In some ways, however, that wasn’t much better.

So far she’d found very little of actual importance. By all accounts, the majority of the book’s contents was filled with the day to day musings of her mother. She reflected on the journey to Equestria, daily events… It should have been, by and large, very mundane.

Yet, Applejack couldn’t help but read it all with a level of focus she normally reserved only for the most important of tasks. Every word, every phrase, everything was committed to memory as if some subconscious part of her believed it to be of utter importance to recall why her mother found the ponies’ inexplicable need to break out into mass singing utterly fascinating.

Applejack knew little to nothing about Carnation. At times she hardly felt real, like something she’d dreamed about one night. Even the memories Hyacinth had shown her felt distant, the details growing more and more indistinct with each passing month. But here, with something her hooves had touched, she felt as real as anything could be.

And so, Applejack read with rapt attention, ears pricked forward as if half expecting the pages to talk to her as well. None of it was important… and yet all of it was.

But just as she was about to flip yet another page, something caught her attention at its very bottom. Right in the bottom corner of the page, right next to an account on the fascinating behavior of weather ponies, something was written quickly and hastily, totally unlike the rest of Carnation’s writing.


4534 Sardar Way
3:30 PM tomorrow


Applejack blinked at the anomaly and cocked her head to one side. Call her crazy, but that looked like an address…

Curiously, Applejack flipped the page, turning to the next entry. It was a short one, patiently penned as usual, but something in it caught Applejack’s eye.

Hyacinth is getting worried. She thinks I cannot see it, but I have been with her long enough to know when she is trying to change my mind. But I cannot put this off another day. I will go crazy if I am to be cooped up in Freedom any longer, and I have strength enough to sit on my rump in a train for a few hours, I think.
I must speak with her today. It is critically important, before my child is born. In an hour, I will make for Canterlot. I have an appointment to keep.

Applejack frowned to herself even deeper. Curiouser and curiouser…

She flipped back a page and eyed the address with a new appreciation. The pieces were starting to come together in her mind now.

A trip to Canterlot… an address… Bumblebee’s words about a place in Canterlot…

Suddenly it clicked. This was what she’d been looking for! The very reason why she’d wanted to come to Canterlot in the first place. The Spymaster.

That had to be it, Applejack thought. Her mother had come to Canterlot to consult with him. But why? What did he know that Carnation thought was of the utmost importance? There was a simple answer; the same thing Applejack needed to know.

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. And the more it made sense, the less she wanted to just sit around and muse over how much sense it made. Now was the time to actually do something about it.

“Alright,” Applejack said, nodding to herself. She folded down the page’s corner, then closed the diary and rose quickly. “4534 Sardar Way. Finally, somethin’ ta do. Come on, Rainbow, get yer rear in—”

But then she caught herself. Rainbow wasn’t here, she was reminded. She was still in Ponyville. 

“… gear….” Applejack finished to herself. She frowned, then shook her head. Get ahold of yerself, cowgirl. Yer a big girl; ya’ll do just fine without her holdin’ yer hoof the whole way.

Applejack nodded to herself, then turned towards the door.


~~***~~


Canterlot Castle was so… gawdy. This was the first impression Queen Aconita had while swiftly striding down one of its many long corridors.

The castle was so sprawling, and yet laid out in a mere two-dimensional format. Passageways were arrayed only on either side of her at ground level, leaving huge stretches of walls and the ceiling completely closed off. So many potential avenues, overlooked. Some rooms weren't even connected, despite being build side by side, or one on top of the other. Where was the sense in that?

Canterlot could be so much bigger without being so spread out. Such a waste. Everything was made of straight, simple angles, paying more attention to grandiose displays than functionality. Ponies were such… incomprehensible creatures.

Aconita only noted this in a peripheral sense, however. She compartmentalized these observations, referring to them only to note that she’d only need to worry about interception along a single plane, rather than having to check above and below as well, and that it’d take significantly longer than she’d anticipated for any sort of armed intervention to her presence. She was not here to criticize the… dubiousness of pony architecture.

As she walked, she continuously pumped ripple after ripple of magic out into the environment, scanning every space around her that her eyes and ears could not penetrate. The castle was indeed expansive, if not ludicrous and predictable, but that didn’t mean she could let her guard down. While Celestia was not, by all accounts, a terribly formidable opponent, she was hardly the only obstacle the ponies could present. Of this, she was well aware, and she would rather avoid unnecessary delays.

Far behind her, she sensed a powerful surge of magic giving chase. The little princess, no doubt. In her agitated state, little Twilight Sparkle was emanating enough magic to sense from across the whole city, let alone a few hallways ahead. It was so much brighter than the other sources dotting the rooms and floors all around her; so full of life and love…

She dismissed that thought as well. Now was not the time to let herself be distracted by… urges. But there was so much here… Not just from the ponies, either; it was in the air, like an echo that hadn’t quite finished ringing, or an ingrained scent that permeated every stone, tapestry and fixture. Love… so much love… It lingered about, not a part of any one source, but the remnants of countless lifetimes soaking into the environment like absorbed notes of perfume.

A part of her couldn’t help but understand now why Chrysalis had gotten so sloppy; it was so distracting, so intoxicating. The psychic imprint of innumerable happy ponies was making it difficult to stay on task…

Focus.

It was only through the strictly structured composition of her mind that she held off the pangs inside of her. That, and a lifetime of practice. She was here for a reason, she reminded herself, and that was all she needed to banish the hunger clawing around her insides to the darkest corner of her mind.

Aconita redoubled her concentration, closed her eyes, and cast her senses out again. She was on something of a timetable now and had to make haste.

In the darkness of her mind, lights bloomed. Here and there throughout the castle, little candle flames of various colors entered her awareness. Each moved amongst a slurry of ancient, ambient magic that glittered weakly. These were ponies, Aconita knew, but they were of little interest to her. It didn’t take her long to find what she was really looking for.

As the pulses of her magic reverberated through the old stonework castle, Aconita felt it touch a familiar signature. Unlike the ponies, whose magic was steady as a beacon of light, this source flickered like a spark. Erratic, even if only minutely. Changeling magic.

The moment her mind touched it, the sources snuffed out. Like clams snapping shut, they defensively shriveled away in an attempt to mask themselves. But Aconita could still feel them; try as they might, no drone could hide from a queen’s gaze. 

Up and down the castle, drones were snapping their heads up in alarm, tensing as wave after wave of Aconita’s searching magic throbbed through the castle. They could feel what was coming, and the weight of her oppressive presence pressed down on them all. Not one of them had to question what it was, or who it was.

Like cockroaches under a lightbulb, they scattered. Aconita could feel them; thirty, maybe thirty five individuals were suddenly racing through the void around her, all bound for a singular location.

A location that burned against Aconita’s mind. Where drones and ponies were but little lights floating in an nebula of vaporous magical echoes, one amongst them shown like an earthbound sun, so massive in scope that not even she could pinpoint it exactly. It was colossal, unbelievable in its proportions… For a moment, Aconita couldn’t help but pause and bat down the beginnings of second thoughts.

So, the princesses had brought Applejack to the castle after all. Aconita couldn’t say she was surprised. In fact, it was exactly as she’d feared.

She’d sensed Applejack from afar, back in Ponyville. But somehow, standing so close to it now, the young queen’s magic felt impossibly massive, too massive for what was still a developing creature. Could it somehow be bigger than before? If that was the case, she was running out of time.

Aconita began moving forward again, driven by purpose towards that sweltering star further down the hall. She kept her eyes shut, her senses still sweeping her vicinity for anything that might prove… bothersome.

But as she did so, something caught her attention. Something she did not expect.

Aconita froze on the spot, her head turning automatically towards the anomaly. Her eyes cracked open, and found themselves staring up into one of the corners of the hallway.

But she could still feel it. It was weak, so very weak, but unmistakable… and very confusing.

Somewhere high above her, something echoed against her magical scans. Something… old.

No… no that can’t be right…


~~***~~


Twilight sprinted for all she was worth through Canterlot’s soaring hallways. The afternoon sunlight cut diagonal shafts across the empty corridor, lighting her way, but not what she was after.

To Twilight’s mounting frustration, she found the hallway once again uninhabited by a towering invader. Aside from the single glimpse she’d caught earlier, she’d yet to catch sight of the imposing queen since. But she had a very good idea where she was headed. Only one thing in Canterlot would concern a changeling queen enough to go through the effort of a personal visit. And that something was currently sitting obliviously in a dining hall, by herself, completely unprotected.

While she made a beeline for the dining hall, however, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. At first she couldn’t identify why that was, and she didn’t pay it much attention. But as she ran, she did notice something that perplexed her, worryingly so.

Where were the guards?

On a normal day, she should have come across at least one patrolling guard by now. With Canterlot in such a state of heightened alert, that number should’ve gone up tenfold. Doorways should be manned, like they’d been earlier. Watchful eyes should have been everywhere.

But the halls were empty. Not just of maids and caretakers, but of everypony else as well. No sounds echoed through the doorways on either side of Twilight and nothing moved in her field of vision. Had the alarm already been raised? But then where was everypony?

Questions such as those were put on hold, however, when Twilight took another corner at full speed, huffing and puffing – and found her quarry right in front of her.

Queen Aconita stood fifty yards away, her back to Twilight. At first glance, it appeared like she’d paused mid-step. One long, gangly leg was raised and hung, forgotten, in the air. Aconita’s head was cocked to one side, as if listening to something.

Of course, when Twilight shouted at her, she snapped out of it real quick.

“Hey! Hold it right there!” Twilight shot at the top of her lungs. She was charging down the hall now, head down, ready to do whatever it took to protect her friend.

Aconita swept one eye in her direction, but if she was surprised or scared or anything else Twilight had been hoping to see, she hid it behind a granite façade. She did, however, remain in place as Twilight closed the distance and eventually skidded to a halt.

For a moment, Twilight faltered. She hadn’t realized just how much taller than her this queen was until she was standing in her shadow. She was towering, taller than even Celestia and a hundred times more intimidating because of it.

Her flowing sapphire mane shined in the sunlight, flashing as if made of metal filaments. Her eyes, cold as a glacier, gazed down at Twilight without inflection from under the long, jagged spear of her horn.

But Twilight didn’t lose heart. She stood at the ready, her horn presented and sparking threateningly.

Aconita just stared at her from over her shoulder. She didn’t say anything; she just stared.

All the same, Twilight braced. She knew enough about changeling queens to know that they weren’t to be trifled with, and this particular one had just singlehandedly bypassed every defense from here to the front gates of the city. There was no telling what such an individual could be capable of. She had to be careful; she couldn’t let her guard down for—

“Five floors up, twenty degrees north-northwest.”

Twilight blinked, taken off guard. “What?”

The menacing queen continued to look at her. “What is in that room?” she inquired.

Twilight stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then, she jerked back into a ready stance. “Why should I tell you?”

Now Aconita rounded on her. “Do you or do you not know?” she asked, impatience supply an edge to her voice.

Twilight didn’t say anything. Her horn crackled as she glared. At the same time, she took in the queen’s mane, her carapace, and eyes, and something clicked. “You’re the one who kidnapped Rainbow,” she deduced. “You’re Agave’s mother. Aconita.”

Aconita didn’t respond. She continued to stare at her, cold eyes demanding an answer.

Twilight wasn’t fazed this time, however. She stood up, unfaltering, to the queen’s imperious gaze and met it with a glare of her own. “I don’t know what you plan on doing, or what you’re talking about,” Twilight growled, “but I’m not letting you get any closer to Applejack.”

Aconita still didn’t show any reaction.

“You could have hurt a lot of ponies at the Summer Sun Celebration,” Twilight went on. “But I won’t let you hurt anypony else!”

That got the first reaction so far. Aconita’s eyebrow rose, vanishing under her straight fringe. “Is that so?” she inquired. Her choice of tone sent a chill down Twilight’s spine. “As a matter of self-interest, I would watch my tongue if I were you, child.”

Twilight glared. “And why’s that?”

Aconita’s eyes narrowed. “It’s unbecoming of royalty to accuse another unjustly.”

Despite trying to remain focused, confusion cracked Twilight’s concentration. “Wait, what?”

Aconita stared down her muzzle at her, the picture of regal disdain. “If I wished to attack you, do you think I would be so sloppy that I would allow myself to be caught? Honestly now…”

Twilight gritted her teeth, crouching lower… as every door up and down the hallway creaked open. That was precisely when she realized exactly where the many missing royal guards had done.

A full platoon of armor-clad, spear-wielding stallions and – oddly – two mares armed with feather dusters shambled like zombies into the hallway. They’re eyes shown with an unsettling green light, gazes unfocused.

“I’m afraid, Twilight Sparkle,” Aconita said as Twilight looked around, pale-faced, “that your interference ends here. Do try to be gentle; I’m under the impression your bodies are somewhat… fragile.”

Twilight gasped and whipped around to face the queen again. But it was too late; already her long, crooked horn was ablaze with acidic light. Emerald fire leapt off of the marble tiles, encircling Aconita and rising almost as high as she was tall.

At the same time, every stallion and mare in the hall snapped their heads around in unison, locking onto Twilight with zombie-like expressions before proceeding to close in on her from every side.

Aconita was starting to sink into the floor and out of sight. On all sides of her, armed ensorcelled stallions were closing in like a vice, cutting off all avenues of escape.

All avenues, except one.

Twilight set her sights on the escaping changeling queen, her lip curling. That tunneling spell had to be aimed straight towards Applejack. Why she hadn’t thought to use it sooner, Twilight would never know, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Because it was either stay here, deal with the bewitched ponies before they hurt anypony or themselves and let Aconita get to Applejack, or it was time to do something exceedingly stupid…

As Aconita’s head started to vanish from sight and the portal began to constrict, Twilight made up her mind. She sprang forward, dodging a spear as it came thrusting awkwardly in her direction, and dove for the portal.

“Oh no you don’t!” she cried out as she went head-first into compressing darkness.

A split second after her tail cleared the portal, it snapped shut. The flames snuffed out with one last puff, leaving only a circle of char on the floor.

At the exact same time, the crowd of armed stallions and two random mares paused, before fading away like a congregation of phantasms.


~~***~~


The tight darkness was not a comfortable one for Twilight. It felt less like she was falling and more like she was being squeezed down some sort of throat against her will. All she could see was blackness; she couldn’t even make out her own hooves in front of her face.

But she knew that somewhere ahead of her was Aconita. She was not about to let her get away!

All at once, light burst in front of her eyes. A perfectly round opening widened in front of her, and before she could do much else besides register what it was, she was out into the open air.

Twilight flew out… then came crashing back down on her rump as gravity reasserted itself. For a moment, her equilibrium sent her for a loop, but she recovered within moments and jolted upright again, on guard.

But she did not find herself in the dining hall, like she’d been expecting.

Instead of a cavernous room, Twilight found herself in a small, round chamber completely devoid of furnishings. She could still see the dimples in the carpet where furniture legs had once stood, as well as the outline of a large carpet.

In one corner of the room sat a couch that was covered over with a white sheet. It was the sole occupant of the room, and it stood by like a fat ghost.

Directly in front of Twilight, she found a closed window front that opened up onto a small balcony. Beyond, she could see almost exclusively blue sky, a few tower tops, and little else. She must be very, very high in the castle.

And directly in front of her, standing with her back to her, was Aconita. She stood in the middle of the room, taking her time analyzing it with nonchalant ease, as if completely unaware of Twilight presence.

Perfect, Twilight thought, She didn’t realize I followed her.

Twilight grinned to herself, then took a step forward… only to realize she couldn’t. Her hoof remained glued to the carpet, unmoving.

Twilight tried to look down at it, only to realize that her neck wasn’t cooperating either. Too late, she realized, she was frozen in place, every muscle in her body locked tight.

“You certainly are a brave one, princess,” Aconita noted. Her voice drew Twilight’s gaze – the only thing she still had control over. “If not very, very naïve.”

She turned towards Twilight then, taking stock of her. “Come now. Did you think nothing of jumping into someone else’s spell?”

Twilight cursed to herself. Why hadn’t she considered that…

Aconita looked her helpless guest up and down once, then turned away. “Now then… would you be so kind as to tell me if you recognize this room?”

Aconita’s horn flashed. In response, Twilight’s neck turned itself of its own accord, guiding her eyes around the room. She had no choice but to look around.

The strange thing was, something about it did click. Twilights eyes fell on where a bed should have been, the outlines of a number of picture frames and painting that’d hung on the wall… Yes, the more she looked, the more she realized—

“Yes, I do,” Twilight’s mouth said traitorously.

If she could clap her hooves over her muzzle, she would have right then and there. Aconita’s spell, she realized, wasn’t just some paralysis spell. She’d taken way more control of her body than she’d realized.

But if it was magic, then maybe…

Aconita glanced back towards her, her interest rekindled. “Tell me; to whom did this room belong?”

Twilight fought as hard as she could to keep her lips shut. She knew the answer – it was right on the tip of her—

“My brother, Shining Armor, and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza,” Twilight’s voice droned, mechanical and stiff.

Twilight was so absorbed with trying to fight the enchantment ensnaring her that she did not notice how stiff Aconita had become. The changeling queen stood stock still for a moment, frozen in place. All of a sudden, she whipped her head around and threw Twilight a sharp look out of the corner of her eye. “Repeat yourself,” she ordered tersely.

Twilight did, despite her best efforts, right down to the exact tone and inflection. “My brother, Shining Armor, and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.”

Aconita stared at her, her eyes wide with unmasked shock. The look was enough to distract even Twilight.

“… Amora…” Aconita whispered to herself. “Is that why… Chrysalis…?”

Aconita paused, then in a flash, her expression was once again a stony mask. “Tell me. What used to be standing over there?”

She then raised a hoof and pointed towards one side of the window – towards a set of three dimples in the carpet arrange close together.

Again Twilight fought. She could feel the magical compulsion now, snaking through her body and forcing its way into her every nerve. It brought out the memories, unbidden, searching through her head for her.

But she was getting a hold of it now. Just a little longer…

“A… night stand,” Twilight responded after some hesitation. And yet, Aconita didn’t seem to notice. She just stared at the spot, lost in her own world.

“And what was on top of it?” she inquired.

“I do not know,” Twilight responded dutifully.

“What was on top of it?” Aconita pressed, her voice growing hard.

“A… a case of some kind. It was always covered by a cloth. Cadence wouldn’t let anypony touch it when… when we helped her and my brother move…”

Almost… she almost had it…

Aconita took two sweeping steps forward, until she was standing over the spot that she was giving her undivided attention.

“So… this is where it went,” she mused quietly to herself. “After all these years… And to fall into the hooves one with such a name… could it actually be true…?”

Aconita took a moment to ponder to herself. Then she turned once again towards Twilight, with purpose now. “Where is this Mi Amore Cadenza,” she asked.

Twilight’s mouth opened of it’s own accord… and paused. A groan issued from her mouth, one that after a second or two, took the form of words.

“N…n… no…”

Aconita raised an eyebrow – just a moment before Twilight’s horn flashed as bright as the sun, exploding outwards with a blinding light. As it dimmed, vaporous tendrils of green smoke drifted off of her body – a body now fully under her control again.

“I’m not telling you anything else!” she shouted, before her horn erupted to life, and she blasted Aconita clean off her hooves and smashed her against the far wall hard enough to crack the molding.

She collapsed in a heap on the floor with a grunt while Twilight panted. Countering changeling magic of any caliber was not easy, and Aconita’s spell had taken a lot more out of her than the blast had.

“I don’t know what you want with Cadence, but it stops here,” she panted.

With a groan, Aconita righted herself, attempted to pick herself up, flinched, then straightened up fully. “I… see,” she grunted. “I must say, your prowess with magic was… was not exaggerated.”

She turned towards Twilight, wincing all the while. “You impress me, child. To break two of my ribs with one attack… It’s been a while since anyone’s managed that.”

“I was trying for a few more,” Twilight shot back. “And if you don’t surrender now, I’ll be forced to do that.”

Aconita let out a breath, her expression a mask of forced coldness. “I cannot acquiesce,” she grunted. “You… you have no idea what’s on the line. Yet you willfully ignore every single warning we give.”

“You call threatening us and attacking us warnings?” Twilight shot.

Aconita snarled at her; actually curled her lip and hissed through clenched, pained teeth. “Do not make me repeat myself, girl. Save your accusations for someone who deserves them.”

“And you don’t?” Twilight countered. “You broke into Canterlot, injured a lot of ponies, and attacked the castle, all to get at Applejack!”

“You blind, wretched little—” Aconita seethed… then stopped. She took a deep, steadying breath, wincing against the pain of her broken ribs, and composed herself. “You have no idea what’s about to happen,” she said, her voice steady and filled with cold fury. “I didn’t come to kill Applejack. I came here to remove her. For your sake, and for the sake of all of Equestria.”

Twilight looked at her, and while she did, she couldn’t help but feel a cold, sinking feeling in her heart. “What?”

Aconita glared right back. “Queen Applejack is about to become the single worst monster our race has ever known. And you will have no one to blame but yourselves. When she molts and her heart is consumed, the hole it will leave will drive her to suck this land dry. We have warned you what was coming, again and again, and yet you still ignored us!”

“Wait,” Twilight said, frowning now. “You… you tried to tell Equestria? But… we never heard…”

“Then you had best ask yourself why,” Aconita snapped. “Your time is running out, little pony. By sundown tomorrow, it will be too late. It is time to start asking yourself what you value more. Your friend? Or your kingdom?”

The door across the room suddenly was struck with enough force to throw them open wide in a shower of splinters. Ten armored guards came streaming into the room with a clatter of armor and thundering hooves, spears lowered.

Right behind them came Celestia, a frown on her face. “Twilight, stand back!” she ordered.

“Princess!” Twilight gasped, then whipped her head around the other way. Just as the last spark of a fading tunneling spell popped out of existence, leaving only char on the carpet.


~~***~~


Aconita reemerged amidst a cavern of innumerable crystals, each so resplendent they seemed to glow with their own light. She staggered slightly as she stepped forward, nearly tripping over a rusting, long-forgotten railroad tie.

She was not alone, however. A short distance away, a pair of glowing blue eyes turned in her direction, shortly followed by the rest of the changeling drone when she came scampering forward.

“Your Highness!” the drone said anxiously. “Are you alright?”

Aconita merely stood up straight. “I’m fine, Vanity.”

Vanity blinked at her as Aconita strode by, completely unhindered by any would-be injuries. Then, Vanity quickly hastened to fall into step slightly behind her. “Did everything go well?”

Aconita heaved a deep breath and let it out without difficulty. “Not in the way I was planning,” she said.

Vanity bit her lip. “Then… does that mean Applejack is still…?”

Aconita nodded.

“Then, what shall we do, Your Highness?” Vanity inquired. “Security in Canterlot is increased tenfold since we got here. It would be ill-advised to remain here.”

“Then let us leave,” Aconita responded plainly. “We are finished here anyway.”

Vanity frowned to herself for a moment. “But… with Applejack still at large…”

Aconita glanced back at her. It was all she needed to do.

“R-right,” Vanity said quickly. “Of course. May I inquire where we should away to?”

Aconita turned away again. “The Crystal Empire.”

Vanity paused at that. She couldn’t help her look of confusion now. “The… Crystal Empire?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Aconita responded. “There is something I must know.”


~~***~~


Lightning lanced across the cold northern skies. Thunder exploded amidst the dreary downpour raining down on a city of crystalline houses and streets.

From her room, high above the sprawling cityscape of the Empire, a lone mare stared up at the sky through the huge bay windows streaked by hours of downpour.

In her hooves, she rolled a small, jet black crown topped with four rubies. She rolled it one way, almost to the tips of her hooves, then the other, back and forth, as she absently stared at the skies, lost in thought.

For the first time since she’d gotten it out, Cadance looked down at the crown with a mercurial expression. She stared at herself in the perfectly round crown jewels. Thunder boomed across the sky again, echoing for many long seconds in her ears before the patter of rain took its place.

A knock on the door behind her snapped her out of it. It creaked slightly as it opened just a few inches to admit the head of a speaker.

“Princess Cadance?” inquired Rarity’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Cadance said, flashing a smile over her shoulder. “Give me a moment and I’ll meet you and Fluttershy downstairs.”

Rarity smiled, but there was a hint of concern still in those tired eyes. “Well… if you insist. Feel free to join us once you're ready.”

With that, she closed the door behind her, and was gone.

Cadance continued to look at the door for a few more seconds, just in case. Then, she returned her gaze down to the crown in her hooves.

Her smile melted away to a frown.

“What am I supposed to do?” she whispered to it. “You had a plan… right? There must be something I missed… We’re running out of time…”

She turned back towards the sky, her tired face weighed down even more by the deep worry that haunted it. “Applejack… please be alright…”


~~***~~


“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Y-yes, Princess, I’m positive.”

Celestia sighed with relief and relaxed, much to Twilight’s relief. She wasn’t sure how much more scrutinizing she could take from the worried alicorn.

Cadance’s old bedroom was now swarming with guards. Unicorns walked with their horns held low and lit, scanning the environment for a trail. Burly earth pony guards stood at the doors and on the balcony, glaring at anything and everything with weapons brandished. Pegasi whipped around the perimeter, searching the halls, tower exterior and castle as a whole with the speed of falcons.

But so far, they were coming up empty. For all the concern Celestia showed, however, catching Aconita was far from her top priority.

“If I may,” Twilight started, “how did you know where to find me?”

Celestia smiled. “The same way I always do,” she said kindly. “I’ve become quite skilled at tracking magically gifted fillies with a penchant for teleporting about, you know.”

Twilight flushed slightly at that.

But then Celestia’s expression fell, her mood sobering. “When I arrived at the dining hall and found it deserted, I feared the worst,” she explained. “I gathered up all I could and came after you, but—”

“Wait, the dining hall was empty?” Twilight cut across. Her embarrassment was instantly forgotten.

Celestia nodded grimly. “There was only this,” she said, and with a flick of her horn, she produced a familiar notepad and floated it towards Twilight for inspection.

It was covered in an almost unintelligible scrawl of countless notes. Twilight recognized Applejack’s hoofwriting with an internal grimace, but considering the circumstances, she overlooked it.

As her eyes swept over the chaotic mess of words, most of which were misspelled, Twilight noticed one final entry right at the bottom, written in the margin.

4534 Sardar Way

The moment she saw it, the color drained away from Twilight’s face. “Oh no… no, she couldn’t have…”

Celestia gave her pupil a concerned look, all the more-so when Twilight suddenly spun on her hoof and sprinted from the room, all-but knocking two of the biggest guards over in the process.

“Twilight! Where are you going?” Celestia called after her.

“To find Applejack!” Twilight shouted back. “We have to stop her from leaving the castle!”


~~***~~


Applejack tipped her hat at the gatekeeper, who smiled back as he cranked back up the drawbridge behind her. “Mighty kind of ya!” she shouted back, waving an orange fuzzy hoof.

Of course she was in her pony form. It was doubtful the stallion would’ve let her across the drawbridge if she’d walked up to him in her more natural appearance, no matter how nice he was.

As the drawbridge closed back against the walls of the castle with a boom and a sheet of pink light closed around it, Applejack turned back around to face the road ahead. She grinned to herself, eager to get moving. She pulled out a slip of paper, regarded the address one more time, then started off at a purposeful pace, away from Canterlot Castle and into the sprawling city beyond.

Hopefully Twilight got her note. She would’ve waited for her, but… well, she didn’t want to. This was something she wanted to do herself, and she knew she could.

With determination burning in her belly, she trotted off into the late afternoon day. As she did, she tried to ignore the fresh pang that ran up her foreleg all over again.
	
> Chapter 16: Cursed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Fluttershy was stretching out all the kinks and knots in her body when the door across from her unexpectedly opened. To her relief, it was only Rarity trudging back into the crystalline study they had both been slaving away in all day. Fluttershy still immediately stopped and straightened up, looking a little sheepish with herself.

Rarity didn’t notice. She was more preoccupied by a big, unabashed yawn. She didn’t even seem completely aware of the less-than perfect state of her mane and the select few defiant strands of hair that dared stick out of place.

“She said she’s on her way down,” Rarity reported mid-yawn. “Oh, excuse me, darling… You wouldn’t happen to know where my tea is, by chance?”

Fluttershy couldn’t help but think that tea alone wouldn’t be enough to restore Rarity’s vigor. A bed and a few hours of blessed sleep were the only remedies. Those thoughts stayed as such, however, and instead she pointed wordlessly across the oblong room towards a table – one that had been cleared explicitly for their use.

Rarity perked right up at the sight of the bowl of tea bags, kettle and twin set of fine china, and immediately strode over to the awaiting gifts from the herbal gods. “Splendid! A little pick-me-up is just what the doctor ordered.” 

Fluttershy quietly watched her friend bustle about with the cup and pot, keeping her comments nervously to herself. Eventually, she worked up the nerve and tentatively opened her mouth. “Um… did Cadance tell you anything new?”

Rarity didn’t look up. She was giving her chosen teabag more or less her undivided attention while she teased it up and down in a steaming cup, as if willing it to percolate faster. “I’m afraid not,” she admitted, all the while barely sounding fazed. “The Crystal Empire does have quite the store of knowledge, granted, but I must admit that this is a rather odd time to be taking inventory of one’s personal belongings.”

“She really seemed to think it could help out Applejack, though,” said Fluttershy, uncertainty in her soft voice. “She wouldn’t have asked us to leave Ponyville with her otherwise… right?”

Rarity picked up on the apprehensive note in her friends quiet tone. She lifted her head and gave her friend a consoling smile. “Of course, darling! I’m sure Cadance has her reasoning. Even if she has been a tad… vague.”

Fluttershy glanced down towards her hooves. “I hope so…”

Rarity continued to watch her friend, but found herself at a loss for something to say. It was clear to her that Fluttershy’s thoughts and prayers were many hundreds of miles away, resting upon the changeling district. She knew this because she was doing the same thing. They all were.

But Rarity could at least take solace in the fact that so far, no word had reached them about Applejack’s condition. A pessimist might take that as bad news, but she wasn’t that far gone yet. No news couldn’t mean bad news, either. She would just have to operate under the assumption that, for the moment, Applejack’s condition was unchanged, and unchanged meant she was stable. And that was a good thing. It was only when she started entertaining thoughts of how long that might last that she started to feel the specter of gloom, but Rarity was nothing if not an optimist, even if she had to work at it sometimes. 

While she considered what to say to cheer up her worried friend, the distant rumble of thunder made itself known through the pale violet walls. Rarity looked up and over one shoulder, over towards a large bay window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Rivulets of water and the constant barrage of rain met her gaze, as did the dour grey sky beyond.

Rarity disliked heavy rain. She had for months. They always seemed to be an ill omen these days, ever since they’d found that wretched-looking mare among a demolished guard tower.

She glanced towards Fluttershy, who was playing with a jewelry box without much commitment. The worry in her eyes was explanation enough.

Rarity pondered what to say for a time while her cup brewed away. It simply didn’t feel right leaving the silence unattended. It took her a moment – longer than usual, actually – but she eventually opened her mouth with a reassuring smile. “I’m sure Applejack is doing just fine, darling. After all, she has Rainbow Dash looking after her! So there’s really no reason to fret. As long as Applejack has her, she’ll be back on her hooves in no time. You’ll see.”

Fluttershy looked up and towards her friend. “Are you sure? Rainbow looked so upset…”

Rarity chuckled under her breath. “Oh, absolutely. I can think of nopony better, in fact! Now, let’s focus on helping Cadance find… whatever it is she’s looking for.”

Neither of them spoke much after that. During the lull, Fluttershy’s eyes drifted across the room Rarity and herself had spent the better part of two days in. All around her, lockers and chests stood neatly packed away against the walls, forgotten and silently collecting dust until they’d barged in unannounced. 

Tables stood here and there about the room, stacked high with all manner of curiosities; baubles, odds and ends, most of which made from the same pale violet crystal, now dull and sad-looking under a fine layer of dust. Furniture stood here and there, shrouded in white linen sheets that only gave the faintest indication of what lay beneath.

In the corner, a half-completed suit of armor stood tall and menacing while the rest of it laid out on an adjacent table, broken down into individual plate of dark, dark metal. It would have been quite the set piece in some museum. But now, it was stuffed away unceremoniously to the side of a great pyramid of shipping crates.

These boxes dominated the room, and they were the sole focus for both Fluttershy and Rarity. Instead of the typical hues of blue and purple so typified by the Crystal Empire, a fair number were constructed from unpainted wood, and came in all manner of shapes and sizes. A fair number had had their lids pried open, contents carefully rummaged through, and yet far more remained untouched, their secrets unknown.

It was these boxes that Fluttershy found herself frowning ever so slightly at. She had a great deal of questions milling about in her mind, not the least of which was how all of this was supposed to help Applejack.

Applejack… she hoped she was still doing alright. Despite Rarity’s reassurances, worry still kept tugging at her. She’d very much wanted to remain in Ponyville to look after her after that dreadful incident. The changelings had all been beside themselves, some right on the verge of hysterics. And Rainbow… she’d never seen her childhood friend so upset.

But Rarity had insisted on not wanting to travel by herself, so… Fluttershy would just have to hope that she could be of more use here, rummaging through packed shipping crates for something she barely had a description of. Cadance hadn’t been very clear about what it was they were supposed to be doing, but she’d seemed so convicted when she asked them for help. All she’d mentioned was that it was an heirloom, and that they’d know it when they saw it.

But what could it be? Fluttershy frowned ever so faintly to herself. Cadance didn’t normally keep things so hush-hush. Was she, maybe… hiding something? No, that couldn’t be it. Cadance was a friend, and very nice, too. She wasn’t the sort to keep secrets. But then… what was her motive?

Finally, she decided that it was time to speak up. It even only took her a few minutes to work up the nerve to urge her voice to life, a real achievement. “Um…”

Rarity looked up and gave Fluttershy a politely questioning look over the rim of her cup. “Hmm? Is something the matter?”

“Well,” Fluttershy mumbled to a neighboring painting leaning against the wall. “I was just wondering… don’t you think it’s a little strange that Princess Cadance is having us look through all these old boxes?”

Rarity’s eyes drifted away as she considered that. “Well… to be honest, yes. We did help her and Shining Armor pack them when they relocated here. But Cadance seemed very adamant about looking through them.”

She then refocused her gaze on Fluttershy, who met it apprehensively. “Which reminds me. Did you find anything yet?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Not really…”

She reached onto the table in front of her and pulled up a dark burgundy book with ochre trim. “I did find something on genealogy. I didn’t know Cadance’s family descended from Crystal Empire nobility.”

Rarity looked the old, grubby book over while she took a pensive sip. The thing looked positively ancient, but well cared for. On it was a family seal she was not familiar with, most likely that of Cadance’s family; a golden heart surrounded by a starburst of blue crystal

“That is fascinating, darling,” Rarity said while trying very hard not to sound deadpan. That particular bit of news was hardly surprising to her. “But I don’t think that is what Cadance brought us all this way to figure out.”

Fluttershy nodded in agreement. At the same time, she stuck her nose into an open rectangular box bearing the same emblem as the book. So far, she’d been very diligent about replacing everything she’d moved exactly where she’d found it, and this was no exception. “So do I. Oh, I hope Applejack’s doing alright…” 


~~***~~


Twilight set herself down in the castle’s main courtyard, startling half a dozen guards on station all around the perimeter. They relaxed right away when they noticed who it was, until it became apparent that the young princess appeared to be somewhat frantic. That stifled their collective internal sighs.

“Applejack?” she called. She looked around rapidly, praying she’d been fast enough, then settled her gaze on the nearest, most unfortunate of guardsponies. “Did Applejack pass through here?”

Several of the guards looked at each other. Then, they looked back towards the princess. “She is your friend? The changeling, correct?” one of the veteran guardponies inquired.

“Yes, that’s her,” Twilight responded, tense as a coiled spring. Please say I’m in time…

“She passed through here not long ago,” he reported dutifully. “She didn’t mention where she was headed. She only asked where the gatekeeper might be.” 

“Now that I think about it,” chimed in his neighbor, a scrawny greenhorn, “Queen Applejack is usually accompanied by an entourage whenever she visits the castle, right? Whole bunch of changelings followin’ her like ducklings. But… I didn’t see any today.” Both guards exchanged an unsure look. “Should… we have offered a guard detail?” one asked.

“No, no, that’s fine, it just…” Twilight said, but now she really couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in her gut. It was as she’d feared; Applejack had left the castle. “Thank you for your help,” she concluded with a forced smile.

The guard nodded, started to open his mouth – and then froze when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Without warning, every guard in the courtyard suddenly snapped to attention, making Twilight jump in surprise.
“Your Majesty!” they all barked out together, as a pair of gilded hooves touched down behind Twilight.

Princess Celestia straightened up from her much more graceful descent, then cast her eyes towards the impressive gatehouse in front of them all. The drawbridge was closed, as it should be, and a wall of magical light fell just beyond, staining the late afternoon sky brightest fiery pink.

“Are we too late?” she inquired, sounding concerned.

“It looks that way,” Twilight said, crestfallen. “Applejack must have slipped out during all the commotion.”

Celestia frowned slightly. Today was certainly lacking on good fortune. 

While Celestia brooded to herself, Twilight took up pacing across the lawn, looking stressed. “Okay… okay… on the upside,” she said to herself, mumbling just loud enough for Celestia to hear, “We know where she’s going, and Sardar Way isn’t far away.  If we’re quick, we should be able to head her off and stop her before anything bad happens. On the downside…” Twilight slowed, then shook her head and kept going. “It’s Sardar Way…”

Celestia turned towards her and gave her troubled pupil a concerned look. “Do you believe what Queen Aconita said is true?” she inquired.

Twilight flinched to a stop, then turned to meet her gaze. Her expression was heavy, and deeply troubled. “I… I don’t know. The more I think about it, the stranger it all seems. But what I do know for sure is Applejack can’t be running around by herself right now. Least of all there!”

She turned again, this time throwing her gaze up towards the gates as if mortally insulted by some kind of failure. “If she’d just waited for me… Sardar Way is no place for any changeling to just wander around, least of all Applejack. She should know that!”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe that would stop her?”

Twilight grimaced, conceding the point. If she believed it was important enough, Applejack would march straight into Tartaurus by herself if she had to. Some days that determination was admirable. This day, it was frustrating.

“I have to catch up with her,” Twilight concluded, “make absolutely sure she’s alright. There’s no telling how many other changelings got in with Aconita. Maybe figure out why… of all places…”

Celestia glanced at her when she trailed off. Twilight pretended not to notice, and instead started up again.

“Not to mention what they might do if they catch her sneaking in. And if – just if – Aconita is right about Applejack’s condition… It’d be best to keep her here, at the castle. Just in case.”

Celestia gave a small nod. “Do what you have to, but please be careful. Aconita risked much to come here, and I do not believe she would do so without great need. If even part of what she told you is true, we would best be extra cautious. I will remain here and try to contain this incident. If the nobles catch wind of another changeling queen incursion, it could mean far more trouble than we can deal with right now.”

They both shared a look. Neither had to guess what kind of an uproar that would generate, and further outrage could very well be the last push the nobles need.

“I’ll bring Applejack back as fast as I can,” Twilight said, “I promise.” She turned and galloped towards the gate as fast as she could, wings restlessly batting the air the whole time. An awkward bound, then a spring, and she was in the air.

Celestia watched her go, all the while keeping her features carefully mute. What she had said was true; Aconita had risked a great deal just to break into Canterlot Castle, but for what? To run away so easily after playing her hand too soon? No, she had breached their defenses for a reason, a reason she was willing to bet her own safety on. A reason that, mysteriously, had brought her to that room in particular.

The greatest question of all still lingered. Had Twilight picked up on it as well? Was that why she was so agitated?

Just what, exactly, had Aconita been doing in Cadance’s old room? And why, of all places, was Applejack now going to that address?

Celestia’s long life had taught her many things. Among them, she knew that coincidences could only be exasperated so much before they stopped being one.


~~***~~


Applejack paused in the shadow of an old, gnarly willow tree to catch her breath. She’d set a brisk pace from the castle, and now it was catching up with her. She pretended not to notice how quickly her calves had tightened and her muscles ached, but privately she felt no small amount of chagrin.

For a moment, she glanced over her shoulder. The monolithic shadow of the castle was still plain to all. The pink shell of magic glowed against the reddening sky behind her, and through it, Applejack could make out the white marble towers and golden roofs. It really didn’t feel like she’d walked all that far, judging by the distance.

She frowned and turned back around. Considering that wasn’t doing her any favors.

The road she was on was leading away from Canterlot’s bustling metropolitan heart; away from the lights and sounds of the big city, and out towards a quieter, more private sector. Here, huddled along a series of plateaus stacked on the side of the Canterhorn, mansions were spaced hundreds of yards apart by majestic lawns and gardens meticulously maintained by their owners. Expansive roofs rose far behind iron gates and stood like miniature castles in their own right; regal, opulent, and practically oozing snootiness.

This was Sardar Way, home to the most blue-blooded, most powerful ponies in all of Equestria. And the absolute last place an upstanding country mare ought to be. Already Applejack had a bad taste in her mouth, and she knew it was only going to get worse from here on out. But she also knew that this was the only path forward, so she had no choice but to pull herself up by her horseshoes and forge ahead, even if she’d rather pull teeth with a rusty set of calipers.

Well, ‘least Rainbow ain’t here fer this. All this frou-frou business would drive her up a wall.

The thought only gave her a bitter comfort, because it reminded her how alone she actually was. The one pony she needed the most right now was miles away. That thought only made her sicker to her stomach.

Applejack shook her head, then turned her gaze down the road ahead of her. Down that way was a solution to all of this, she just knew it. And the sooner she went and found it, the sooner she could alleviate the worries of so many. She nodded to herself, set her jaw, and set off.

She made it all of a step.

“Wait for me, honeybunch!” called out a voice far to her left. A giggle responded, and the clatter of hooves reached Applejack’s ears.

Thmp…

Something pulled Applejack’s head around. Her eyes immediately fell on a pair of ponies coming up the boulevard, trotting happily along the sidewalk opposite her.

It was a stallion and mare.

Thmp…

By the time Applejack had spotted them, the stallion had caught up to his companion, much to her glee. They walked side by side, occasionally laughing and sharing comments too quiet to catch.

Applejack couldn’t take her eyes off the pair. The longer she stared, the more it felt like the world was putting a spotlight on them. There was something… captivating about the duo, something she couldn’t quite place.

The stallion was a fine specimen, no doubt about it. Well built, but not huge, with looks to sweep a mare off her hooves with a glance. He was, without a doubt, the son of some prominent Canterlotian family. But it wasn’t his looks that interested Applejack.

The mare was gorgeous as well, if a little plain. Her mulberry mane was down and a little flyaway, like whatever do she’d tied it up in had come undone. But it wasn’t just her appearance, either. There was something else that compelled her to turn her complete and undivided attention upon them, but for the life of her, Applejack couldn’t figure out what it was.

They were so far oblivious to her presence, but Applejack couldn’t help but fixate on them. Both slowed to a leisurely pace. Neither seemed in a hurry. Then, as the two fell quiet, the mare leaned to one side, and set her head against the handsome stallion’s shoulder.

THUD…

Applejack’s hoof flew to her chest of its own accord as what felt like the mother of all hooves slammed dead center into her heart.

Applejack felt feverish, her skin too cold and clammy, her insides too hot and clawing. And still her eyes stayed transfixed on the pair, still meandering down the road, closer and closer to where she was standing.

There was something about them that called to her. Like a tantalizing aroma finding a starving pony, there was something about the pair that she found almost irresistible, something tantalizing, Something…

Something she craved…

Applejack had never felt herself go that cold that fast before. It was as if someone had opened her up and dumped chunks of permafrost straight into her insides.

It took every ounce of will she possessed to turn away. One hoof moved, and then the other, and finally she was able to wrench her gaze off the pair and plant it squarely on the trunk of the tree beside her. A maple, she realized. At its base was a rotted out hole, where she could just make out a few beetles digging around in the dark wood pulp. A branch must’ve been there, then removed for some –

“Oh! My darling, look at that!”

“Oh wow…! The clouds are so beautiful!”

“Not as beautiful as you, my dear.”

 – For some reason Applejack could not place! Maybe it’d been in the way of hoof traffic, and had to be cut down. She wondered what kind of beetles those were. Maybe she’d seen some back home?! Granny knew a remedy for parasite beetles infesting a tree. Something about – 

“I say, who is that?”

Oh no…

“Miss? Are you alright?”

They’d seen her. They’d seen her and they were crossing the road towards her.

Every muscle in Applejack’s body tensed. Her insides churned, this sick new craving gnawing at her like fire. It screamed at her to turn around and chase down that alluring non-fragrance, that thing that called to her so sweetly.

But Applejack had enough sense to know it for what it was. The wrongness… the wrongness deep inside her was hungry… it ate at her like starvation, like a parasite chewing her up from the inside out. The wrongness felt like a hole she herself was collapsing into, and it was screaming to be filled in. Either she went… or they went instead.

She clamped her jaws as tight as they would go, until the sheer effort of clenching them shut caused her teeth to ache. She locked every one of her limbs. She would not turn around!

The sounds of hesitant hooves were halfway across the street now.

“Stary!” the mare called. “What are you doing?”

“Wait there, Midnight. I’ll be but a moment. Miss? Miss?”

Stary… that must have been the stallion’s name. He was coming to check on her, to see what was wrong.

But everything was wrong. Everything.

Blood pumped in her ears. She could hear a ringing sound deafening her ears… a ringing that was building like a rising scream…

“Hey! Watch it!”

Wooden wheels clattered against the stone behind her. A shadow of a carriage fell over her, and from behind, a hinge squeaked.

“Get in. Now.”

Applejack didn’t object. No, she leapt at the lifeline. Without even seeing where she was going, she whipped round and threw herself at the black shape of the carriage. She sprang at the door, not caring if anypony was in the way, and dove into the confines beyond.

She hit a cold, hard wooden floor, and there she stayed, every ounce of will bent to keeping her body completely and utterly still while the hollow inside her raged.

The door slammed shut behind her. Darkness pressed down all around. A split second later, the carriage began to jostle and jolt, leaving two confused and slightly outraged lovebirds in its wake.


~~***~~


Twilight moved as fast as she dared through the sky, her horn alight with a scanning spell. If things kept going the way they were, she’d end up getting some real mileage out of it. At least this time she was fairly confident that Applejack’s signal wasn’t going to have any interference.

Below, the mansions were coming into view. She frowned at them, but was only momentarily distracted by their appearance.

What was far more distracting was the sudden and unexpected vibration that ran through her horn.

“What the…?” Twilight murmured, slowing to a stop. She crossed her eyes, eying her horn, but it showed no signs of change. But she could have sworn she’d felt some sort of feedback.

And even more disturbingly, it’d come from the direction of Applejack’s signal. It was as if the source of Applejack’s magic had just fluctuated or something, and fluctuated big.

A terrible feeling of foreboding sank into Twilight as she considered that. She was done waiting around.


~~***~~


Applejack focused solely on keeping herself motionless on the floor. She breathed, focusing on each breath. Little by little, over the course of several long, agonizing minutes, the fire in her chest dwindled. The gaping hole shrunk. When it closed completely, Applejack found herself on the floor of a strange coach, covered in sweat and shaking uncontrollably from head to hoof.

She felt parched. Her tongue was like sandpaper on the inside of her mouth. Her throat seared with a sensation not unlike heartburn. Every muscle in her body ached. It felt like she’d physically had to fight off that… whatever that was.

It took her nearly five whole minutes to recover, and a few more before she felt well enough to rise to her forelegs. That was as far as she felt she could make it for the time being. She raised her head and allowed herself to take in her surrounding for the first time.

The carriage she’d dove into was spacious, with room to spare for at least five more ponies. Each bench seat on either end of the carriage’s interior was plush and studded, and made of a fine, bloody crimson material. Everything else was constructed from dark, earthy ochre, and polished to a near mirror finish. The curtains were mostly drawn, keeping all but a fine sliver of fiery golden afternoon light from penetrating inside. This, she deduced very quickly, was no common vehicle.

“Here,” said a voice beside her.

Applejack jumped, only then realizing she wasn’t alone.

Seated by the door was perhaps the most out of place pony Applejack had ever seen. Surrounded on all sides by expensive, top-of-the-line fineries sat a disheveled mare with the biggest pair of reading glasses Applejack had ever seen. Her mane was tied back, but loose strands of hair still dangled free here and there.

The mare’s features were carefully muted, but she smiled slightly when Applejack looked at her. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, however.

It took Applejack a moment, but she realized that she was extending one hoof towards her. And in it was the last thing she expected; a candy bar, still in its wrapper. Not some expensive gourmet brand, either, but one she recognized. 

“Take it,” he instructed. “You’ll feel b-better.”

Applejack eyed the stranger, a pang of wariness reflexively running through her. But the mare just smiled and extended the candy bar further. So, Applejack straightened up a little more, then took the offered bar. “Th… thanks,” she mumbled. Her voice was as raspy as her throat felt.

With the craving gone, Applejack felt dazed, disoriented. It was only by the time she’d taken a seat across from the stranger that it even occurred to her that she was even in a stranger’s vehicle. She eyed her unknown savior again, this time with a hint of wariness.

She didn’t say anything. She only made a motion at her, indicating the candy. “T-try it.”

Applejack eyed it, then bit off the top portion of the wrapper, spat it out, and took a bite.

It was a bar of dark chocolate, she realized. The moment the fudge hit her tongue, warmth stole back into her limbs. With the first swallow, her gut relaxed. The tremors settled, and by the time she’d downed the last square, she felt… well, somewhat presentable. She still felt sore and, somehow, more worn out than ever.

“B-better?” inquired the mare.

“Much,” Applejack responded. She sounded it, too; her throat didn’t feel nearly as parched as before.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the mare responded with a stutter. “Uh, if you p-p-plan on walking around in p-public, I’d rec-c-commend keeping some of those handy. It w-won’t st-t-top the hunger pangs, but at least you won’t c-c-cause a, uh… scene.”

Applejack was taking stock of the carriage’s interior when she said that. Afterwards, she had her undivided attention.

“Hunger pangs?” Applejack questioned. “What… what in tarnation is that? Is… is that what that was? Ah ain’t ever felt anythin’ like that before.” Then, she caught herself. Something else – potentially more pertinent – had just occurred to her. “And… how do ya know about it?” she questioned, her wariness sprinting back to her.

Oh, she had a good idea how. She could count the number of ponies who were experts on changelings on one hoof. So that left only one answer: the only ones who knew about changelings were changelings themselves.

The mare must have picked up on Applejack’s guard rising, because she shuffled in her seat, hooves rubbing together. “W-w-well, it’s a really, really long story,” she blustered.

Applejack crossed her hooves across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Well, correct me if Ah’m wrong, but Ah got time,” she quipped, noting the jostling and jolting of the moving carriage. 

“I wish that was the case,” mumbled the mare, looking down.

Applejack’s eyebrow arched up still higher. “Beg pardon?”

Instead of responding right away, the mare reached down beside her and pulled up a small golden pocket watch. She scrutinized it, then bit her lip. “Late…”

Applejack was frowning now. This mare, whoever she was, was proving to be less than helpful, and she was plenty aware already that she was drawing closer to some unknown destination with each passing second.

“Maybe y’all could start by tellin’ me who ya are?”

“Oh! Uh, right,” the mare responded, jumping back to her senses. “I-I’m sorry, that was rude of me. M-m-my name is Peony.”

Applejack waited for more, but Peony just sat there, smiling benignly. The lull lasted several seconds before an increasingly agitated Applejack raised her voice again. “And… where exactly are ya takin’ me, Peony?” she prompted.

Peony glanced towards the window and out a crack between the curtains. Whatever she saw, it didn’t seem to faze her. “Well, um… you’re w-welcome, by the way. And to answer your question, I d-d-don’t know.”

Applejack’s eyebrow was quick to rise at that. “… Say what?”

Peony glanced back, looking troubled. “W-well, she hasn’t turned up yet, so—”

WHAM!

The whole carriage shuddered with a sudden impact from above. The collision was so great that the whole vehicle bounced completely off the ground by an inch or two. The axels groaned in protest when they slammed back to the ground again. Applejack let out a yelp and jumped halfway out of her skin as the carriage screeched to a halt and unceremoniously tossed her to the floor again.

And just when she was starting to come to the conclusion that they were under attack, Peony said, in a bafflingly cheerful tone, “Oh! Th-there she is!” 

Applejack just stared at her from the floor in complete confusion as the carriage settled to a stop. For a beat, everything was tensely quiet. Then, Peony’s forehead glowed with an intense green light, and with a slight clatter from the latch, the door Applejack had dove through minutes earlier swung open.

Sound immediately hit her eardrums the moment the door cracked open. She immediately identified two voices, one bellowing and quite angry with the other by the sounds of it. They’d simply popped into being the moment the door was thrown open, bringing a lot of questions to her mind.

Those questions were quickly and unceremoniously tossed to the wayside, however, when she made out a voice that was firing off volley after volley of apologies.

“I’m very sorry, honest, but I’m in a hurry! I’m trying to find one of my friends and her trail leads –”

“I don’t care if you’re lookin’ for Princess Celestia ‘erself!” barked the gruff voice of an unseen stallion, who by the sounds of him, must’ve been enormous. “You about ran us off the bleedin’ road! Do you ‘ave any idea who this ‘ere carriage belongs to? Why, I ought to turn you over to the Guard!”

In that moment, Applejack wasn’t sure if she should sigh in relief, or groan. Because standing outside, looking like a filly in the shadow of a very upset, very large coach driver, was none other than Twilight Sparkle.

“I’m sorry!” Twilight said, and she certainly looked the part. “But it’s very, very important that I—”

“You know what else is very important? Keeping a two ton coach on the road! And if I found one scratch on the roof, I’ll ‘ave your—”

The whole time this was going on, Applejack was simultaneously trying to think of a way to bail out her friend… and not be seen in the first place. Something told her that Twilight wasn’t going to be too thrilled with this little trip of hers, and the last thing she wanted right now was another lecture.

But while her mouth flapped uselessly, Peony raised her voice just loud enough to be heard. “Excuse me? Driver? May I have a word w-with our guest?”

The muscle-bound stallion turned his head, only then realizing that the carriage door was open. He glared with a white-hot fury, but when he laid eyes on Peony, that rage seemed to stifle itself.

Instead of addressing Peony, he turned back to glower at Twilight again. “You’re gonna wish I called the Guard,” he growled, then stepped to one side.

Twilight was now, understandably, a little hesitant to step around the giant hulk of a pony as he trudged back to the front of the carriage. But the moment she looked around, and noticed a familiar orange mare, all of that changed instantaneously.

“Applejack! There you are!” she cried with both relief and a fair bit of exasperation.

Applejack winced slightly. “Howdy Twi’. Guess y’all got done with the princess, huh?”

Something crossed Twilight’s expression, just for an instant. A dark look, fleeting, but unmistakable. “… Nevermind that. And don’t play innocent with me. You shouldn’t be out here all on your—”

Applejack knew it when Twilight was about to go full lecture mode. She had two settings for it; compassionate friendship lesson, and exasperated chastisement. The latter was usually reserved for whenever Rainbow decided doors to the library were overrated.

Rainbow…

“… And who’s this?”

Twilight’s unexpected question drew Applejack back to her senses, causing her to blink. Twilight had just noticed the other pony quietly sitting out of the line of fire, waiting for the storm to pass. But now Twilight noticed her, and when she took stock of Peony, something unexpected flashed across her face; recognition.

“You!” she gasped.

Peony flashed a smile. “Yep, m-me. Um, I kn-know you are in the middle of something, b-but… if you’d k-kindly get in? W-we don’t have a lot of t-time.”

Twilight’s expression went from shock to confusion in the blink of an eye. “Wait. Time for what?”

Applejack clearly heard Peony’s stifled sigh. “For this. Now, if you wouldn’t m-mind…” She gestured into the carriage.

From the front, the irate driver took one last jab at the reckless mare. “You ‘eard her! Get in!”

Twilight jumped as if physically kicked in the rear, and sprang forward. The driver waited until he heard the door click shut again. Then he grumbled to himself.

“Mares… Crazy, the lot of ‘em…”


~~***~~


“You should have waited for me!”

Applejack sighed under Twilight’s irritation. “First off, Ah had no idea how long y’all would be. Second off, Ah ain’t gonna just waste time waitin’ if its just a walk down the street.”

Twilight was barely even fazed. She just kept glaring at the side of Applejack’s head, as if expecting the sheer force of her stare to worm some sense of repentance out of her. “But Sardar Way? Alone?! What makes you think anypony there would be willing to cooperate with a changeling?”

Applejack didn’t respond. She hadn’t quite gotten to that part of her plan, actually. But rationally, she didn’t think she had to worry about it.

“Twi’, my Ma was goin’ to that address. Regularly,” she pointed out. “Ah’m willin’ ta bet whoever’s livin’ there ain’t nearly as bad as the rest of ‘em.”

Something flashed across Twilight’s face then, something Applejack didn’t understand. “Applejack… that’s just not possible.”

Applejack gave her a look of complete surprise. “How would you know? It was in Ma’s diary, Twilight.”

Twilight’s expression screwed up again, more this time.

That was about the time Peony decided to clear her throat. “C-can I interrupt now?” she asked

Twilight glared at Peony in response. “And you… what are you doing here?”

“Orders,” Peony responded plainly, shrugging. “It would b-b-be a problem if Her Highness just w-w-wandered around b-by herself.”

Applejack rolled her eyes, but kept her comments private. On a good day she wouldn’t be in the mood to address her unwanted status.

But for some reason, Twilight continued to stare suspiciously at the strange mare. “I don’t buy it,” she stated.

Peony’s reaction was unexpected. Instead of looking nervous or surprised or any of the myriad reactions Twilight was expecting, she instead cocked her head to one side like a curious puppy. “Oh? Then, Princess Celestia told you?”

“Of course,” Twilight responded coolly. “She told me you are the right-hoof mare of the Spymaster himself.”

“Wait, what?” Applejack interjected. “Hold on just a minute now.” Now she really took stock of the ordinary mare sitting across from her. “Is that true?”

“M-more or less,” Peony said indifferently.	

“And ya didn’t think ta tell me that before?!”

Peony shrugged. “We were getting to it.”

Peony adjusted her glasses while Applejack silently fumed. It was a vain attempt, however, as the rim settled back into the same uneven placement as before.

But the air about her changed when she did so. She sat up straight and stopped fidgeting. Her expression became serious, much more serious than before.

“Applejack… I was sent to transport you to the Canterlot train station,” she stated. “There, you will board a private train and leave Canterlot. There’s nothing for you here.”

Shocked silence followed Peony’s statement. It lasted all of five whole seconds before being shattered completely.

“Like hay Ah am!” Applejack shouted. “And like hay there is! Everythin’ points ta Canterlot right now!”

“Applejack’s right,” Twilight admitted. “Why does the Spymaster want her out of Canterlot now?”

Peony looked at each, completely impassive. Then, she opened her mouth to speak. “It is because of what she is… or rather, who she descends from.”

Applejack exchanged a look with Twilight. “Uh… The Spymaster is worried about me bein’ Carnation’s—”

“No,” Peony interrupted. “Not Carnation. Amora. Queen Amora, the very first changeling queen. The Maker.”


~~***~~


Five thousand years ago, Princess Amora ruled the land far, far to the south. Back then, it was a peaceful land, not unlike Equestria is today. She was beloved by her subjects, and she ruled fairly and justly.

But Princess Amora had a flaw.


~~***~~

Five thousand years go
Tierra Del Sur
	

Princess Amora stood atop the highest spire in all her kingdom. She smiled out across the many living homes spread out radially from her palace – homes crafted of trees, bushes, and mounds of earth. Beyond, the lush jungle swayed peacefully beneath the night sky. She could see lanterns through the trees, marking paths through the serene wood towards distant settlements beyond.

Far below, she could see her subjects. Dozens trotted around the grand promenade below. Some dipped their hooves in the cool river flowing gently by. They all bore so many different colors; pink ponies, red ponies, green ponies, yellow ponies; it always delighted her to see the vast array of different colors milling about far below.

But some weren’t just on the ground. Some buzzed through the air on gossamer wings that danced and shimmered in the moonlight.

Amora rustled her own wings in yearning. What she wouldn’t give for a flight this night. But, in the end, her better judgment kept her grounded.

Down below, a band was playing. The soft notes of music reached her, and she couldn’t help but sway slightly to the tune.

The sound of thunder in the distance brought her to a halt. She paused, eyes quickly identifying the storm far off on the horizon. But even that only brought a smile to her face.

“Rain, rain, go away,” she sang, singing along with the tune of the band below. “Come again another day. Little fillies want to play, in the meadow by the hay.”

The storm responded with a belligerent rumble, but she just smiled understandingly back. “Rain, rain, go to the plain. Never show your face again.”

The storm didn’t feel like arguing anymore, but she continued her fillyhood song. “Rain, rain, pour on down. But not a drop on our town.”

It was a foalish thing to do, really. The storm would go where it wanted to go, like it always did. But she loved singing to them, anyway.

The sound of a door opening behind her brought her to a stop and a smile to her lips.


~~***~~


Amora was many things. She was kind. She was intelligent. And she was powerful. Very powerful. On her command, the whole of Tierra Del Sur bloomed each day. Through her presence, her subjects’ hearts were filled with kindness and love, and through their admiration, Amora’s magic was made powerful.

Her brand of magic was given to her by her royal lineage, as passed down through the ages. But Amora’s affinity for it was unparalleled. 

But for all Amora’s gifts – her intellect, her benevolence, her power – she was one thing above all else.

She was trusting.


~~***~~


Amora turned, beaming brightly, as a stallion trotted into her bedchamber. “Crescendo! Oh darling, when did you return? I would have had something prepared!”

Crescendo grimaced at the prospect. His wings – so much like a dragonfly – rustled uncomfortably. “Love, you know those affairs grate on me so. I prefer it this way.”

For a moment, conversation was put on hold as the two embraced. Amora could feel her chest warm, magic flowing richly through her whole body.

This was how she knew she’d made the right choice in her partner. This feeling of overflowing love.

“Well, you had best get over that,” Amora whispered in his ear. “There will be a lot of eyes watching our ceremony tomorrow.”

Crescendo chuckled. The feeling of it soothed Amora. “Well then, I shall strive to find something to distract me from their gazes. And I think I have just the thing.”

Amora laughed quietly. “Careful, love.  If you spend all your life looking solely at me, you might get sick of it!”

Crescendo nuzzled her forehead. “Impossible.”


~~***~~


The wedding of Princess Amora and Duke Crescendo was the biggest event in the kingdom’s history. Thousands of fluttering ponies gathered to watch as the two were wed. It is said that Amora’s happiness leading up to the wedding was so great that not a single pony spoke one word of anger that whole day in the entire kingdom.

Few would ever guess that this was destined to be the kingdom’s last happy moment for the remainder of its history.


~~***~~


Amora stood at the center of the spherical wedding hall, absolutely beside herself with nerves.

The hall, a massive ball made of honeycomb plated in gold and brilliant resin, was packed to the rafters with onlookers. Thousands upon thousands of her subjects had come to see their princess become a queen, at last.

The princess herself stood on a tall spire in the middle of the ‘hive’, just as her mother did before her, and her mother before her. And she had every reason to believe that someday she’d watch her own daughter accept her soulmate on this very spot as well.

Music played, but she barely heard it. Every iota of her focus was placed on the balcony across from her, where the love of her life would appear.

She waited… it felt like she’d been waiting an eternity.

But the doors never opened. They stayed shut for minute after minute… then for hours…

Ponies started to whisper in confusion and worry. Voices grew louder and more prevalent as time ticked by.

But Amora waited. She started to fret, worrying what could be holding Crescendo up. But she knew he’d come, eventually.

She waited all night before it finally dawned on her.

“He’s… not coming…”


~~***~~


No one knows why Crescendo left Amora at the altar. Some say he got cold hooves. Others say he’d run away with another mare.

But a more likely reason may have been because of power.

In the kingdom of Tierra Del Sur, it is the queen that rules. Crescendo would be, at best, Amora’s second-in-command. But far more likely, he would be her consort, kept around only to sire the next generation of queens. He would never rise to power. He’d be a glorified house husband.

And so, he tricked Amora. He preyed on her naivety and trust. He swept her off her hooves, all to learn the secret of the royal family.

It’s magic. The magic to bend love into power. With that, he could forge his own kingdom. He could be mighty and adored, instead of subordinate to another. 

And all it cost was the breaking of a mare’s heart.


~~***~~


It took the attendant nearly ten whole minutes to work up the courage to knock. Even then, it was hesitant, but once the first wrap had been made, she was committed.

“Y-your Highness? Are you awake?”

No response, again.

Amora had fled to her bedchambers hours ago, locked the doors, and refused to come out. At least, by now, the attendant couldn’t make out the heart-wrenching sounds of uncontrolled sobbing.

“May I come in? I have some food…”

To her surprise, the doors yielded to her hoof. They groaned as they swung inward, opening up into a room thrown into darkness.

Every curtain had been drawn. Only a diffused haze of light made it in through the drapes near the balcony. It was barely enough light to see through. But the attendant could make out enough.

Amora’s room was destroyed.

Pillows had been shredded. Furniture slashed, torn to bits, and thrown around the room as chunks of wood and resin. Pages of books lay everywhere without any sign of where they’d come from.

Across the room, the fireplace was ablaze, the flames merrily devouring a masterpiece of a wedding dress.

The attendant gasped at the sight of the burning dress. She dropped the plate with a clatter, fruits and berries scattering in every direction. She dove for the cremating gown.

“Leave it.”

Amora’s voice drove the mare to a total halt. It had come from the bed, the only place in the room that had not been utterly dismantled.

Through the flickering light of fire and the near complete gloom, the attendant made out a shape on the bed entombed in blankets.

“Y-your Highness, your dre—”

“Did you find him?”

Amora’s voice was… strange. Cold, detached. In all the years the attendant had served her, she’d never heard Amora talk so lifelessly.

“U-um… No, Your Highness, we haven’t.”

“Get out.”

The mare hesitated. “Princess Amora, maybe we should—”

The figure on the bed exploded to her hooves. A long, cracked horn burst to life with a violant, fiery light.

“GET OUT!” Amora screamed at the top of her longs, before seizing the mare and launching her from her chambers. She struck the hallway wall hard and crumbled, out cold, before that same fiery light enveloped the doors and slammed them shut again.

Inside her chambers, Amora glared furiously at the door with wild eyes. Eyes possessing slitted pupils.


~~***~~


Amora’s fall was swift and vicious. When her heart broke, something dark was born; a spark that quickly grew into a devouring flame. Consumed by grief and madness, her once benevolent magic twisted… corrupted… into something hideous.

And that was only the beginning.


~~***~~


“Barricade the door! Seal it, hurry! She’s coming!”

Stallions in the ceremonial armor of the queen’s guard hauled everything they could to the large set of double doors – the only thing standing between them and oblivion.

Benches, chairs, even a few hastily cut off ceiling beams and every able body capable was pinned against the heavy doors.

On the other side, they could hear screaming. Lots of screaming. The captain of the guard gritted his teeth; so many of his men, valiantly trying to hold that monster off… now trapped with it…

The screams died away, one by one. As the last one was strangled into silence, an eerie quiet fell over the hall.

Behind the captain, injured guards lay on makeshift stretchers. Terrified civilians huddled in corners, stifling their tears and sobs.

The door began to creak and pop.

“Hold steady! Hold it steady!” cried the guard captain, but even his voice was rising in terror.

Wood groaned and squealed as it slid across marble tiles. Hooves scrabbled, their owners desperate to hold back what was coming.

The great double doors parted just a crack.

“Rain, rain, go away…”

The crack widened. A mare against the far wall screamed.

“Come again another day…”

Out of pure desperation, civilians piled on, struggling to force the doors shut again.

They creeped open wider.

Through the darkness on the other side, a long, jagged horn – alight with burning green light – jutted into the room.

“Little Amora wants to play.”

The door exploded.

Wood, resin, furniture, bodies – all were flung aside like leafs in a gale. Every torch, every candle, every source of light went out in an instant.

The captain of the guard was blown clean off his hooves and thrown end over end. He tumbled again and again until his head spun. When he finally came to a stop, his ears were filled with the sounds of utter panic.

In the darkness, ponies were running every which way, desperate to escape. None would.

Something darted through the darkness, narrowly missing him. The captain didn’t know what it was, but he caught a glimpse of glowing blue eyes. One hit somepony nearby. They screamed for just an instant… and went silent. The captain dare not look, but he just caught the glow of green light out of the corner of his eye.

He struggled to rise. If he could allow just one pony to escape, just one…

Something grabbed him by the throat.

With a strangled sound, he was hefted into the air, clean off his hooves, and into the face of the monster herself.

The thing that had once been Amora stared at him with an almost childlike interest. Her alien, double-ringed eyes glowed, crackling with harvested magic. Her horn – a once regal spire of dawning pink – was gnarled and blackened, chunks rotted right out of it. It coursed with sickly green flames.

“What’s the matter, guard captain?” she asked, sounding slightly hurt. “Don’t you love your queen anymore?”

The captain sputtered, struggling to speak around the magical vice grip locked on his throat.

Amora’s face split into an insane smile. Jagged, needle-like fangs glistened in her mouth. “I knew you did,” she cackled.

To the guard captain’s credit, he did not scream.


~~***~~


Only a few escaped Queen Amora. At first. Over the course of months, she hunted down every last one of her terrified subjects and devoured every last shred of love they possessed. She turned all of them into her servants, the first drones. None escaped.

Only one eluded her. The source of her madness and the all-consuming darkness now driving her. The architect of her fall.

Crescendo.

He’d left Tierra Del Sur long before Amora lost her mind, but not because of it. Even though Amora was benevolent, he wasn’t a fool. He knew there’d be reprisal. At least, that’s the theory. No one knows exactly where he ended up, or what fate befell him. He went underground, and no one would hear from him ever again.

In the end, Amora never found Crescendo, but finding him become her one, solitary drive. Over the years, she gave birth to children – all new queens, just as corrupt as she was.

And so, the curse took root.


~~***~~


Silence filled the carriage as Peony ended her story. Both Applejack and Twilight stared at her in disbelief, and no small amount of horror. Peony was looking out the window, through a slit in the drawn curtains. Her expression was unknowable.

For the longest time, only the sound of the carriage trundling down a cobblestone road filled the quiet.

Applejack could feel Twilight looking at her, but she didn’t have the heart to meet her gaze. A part of her wanted to dismiss Peony’s story as just that; a story. But she’d felt the wrongness. She’d felt the hunger for herself.

“Ah… don’t get it,” Applejack muttered, breaking the silence.

“Get what?” Peony inquired.

Applejack looked at her, holding her gaze. “How any of that applies ta me. Ya said it yerself; all that happened five thousand years ago. What does any of that have ta do with me?”

Peony looked at her for a moment. “… Everything,” she said. “The darkness born when Crescendo broke Amora’s heart was passed down, generation by generation by generation. The curse is a part of every changeling queen. Including you.”

Applejack felt her heart leap uncomfortably in her chest.

“But Carnation beat it,” Twilight pointed out. “She found a way.”

Peony turned her attention to her. “I’m not saying there is no way to reverse it… but time is not on your side. The dark magic that created the changelings has become so ingrained into them… If Applejack were only a few generations separate from Amora, it would be very possible. But at this point…”

She turned back to Applejack. “Applejack… every queen goes through the same event on the same day in their lives when Amora’s heart was broken. Your birthday—your real birthday. And that is tomorrow.”

The bottom of Applejack’s stomach fell out. She’d known she was running out of time; she always had. But to know she had less than twenty-four hours before she… changed.

“Then, why send me away?” Applejack pressed. She lurched forward, her heart thudding in her chest. “Why make findin’ a cure take even longer?”

“Because,” Peony said coolly, “the longer you stay in such a heavily populated place like Canterlot, the greater the chances of you hurting somepony.”

Of all the things said to her, that was the one that felt the most like a blow. Immediately it conjured back memories of her most recent episode, and those two ponies that’d been in so much danger and never known it…

“But that is hardly the worst of it,” Peony went on, “ You are incredibly loved. By your family, all of your friends, and a great deal of other appreciative souls. But that is the problem. When your heart breaks, all of that love that has been sustaining you… it will leave a hollow inside of you.”

She looked away, out a neighboring window again. “Queens in the south spend years trying to get their cravings under control, and they are exposed to a fraction of the love you are. When your heart breaks… you may never recover.”

“What?!” gasped Twilight. Applejack couldn’t even find her voice to muster that much.

“That is why she needs to get out of this city,” Peony stressed. “She needs to go someplace safe, someplace isolated. Someplace your hive cannot reach you.”

“Why?” Twilight asked. “Wouldn’t they be better at… at containing… you know.” She trailed off, unable to continue.

“No,” Peony responded. “Those changelings back in the district, they have all imprinted on Applejack. They are kind now, but if Applejack so wills it, they won’t hesitate to turn on everypony. The only reason they were able to break away from the southern hives was because they hadn’t imprinted upon the queens themselves. Now, they will follow her to the end.”

Applejack felt queasy. Everything felt like it was falling apart. What hope she’d managed to build up, dashed to shrapnel in an instant.

Less than twenty four hours… less than one whole day… and she’d be a monster.

“The crystal caverns.”

Both Peony and Twilight looked around towards her. Applejack had her head down, shielding her eyes. “Trap me down there,” she murmured. “When the time comes… throw me down there and throw away the key. Ah won’t hurt nopony down there. The princesses, the rest of the girls… They’ll all make sure o’ that.”

“Applejack…”

“It won’t be forever,” Peony promised. Her serious façade cracked somewhat; a note of empathy entered her voice. “The rest of us will find a—”

“But… Ah have one condition.”

Peony fell quiet, taken aback, as Applejack looked back up and stared her dead in the eyes.

“Take us to that address,” she stated, and her voice left no room for negotiation. “Do that, and y’all can do whatever ya want with me.”

Peony pursed her lips, her reluctance evident.

So, Applejack jerked her head to the door right next to her. “Ah can throw myself out and be on my own way,” she pointed out.

Peony cringed at the idea. Carriages didn’t exactly move at blistering speeds, but one would definitely not want to jump from a moving one. At least, not if one values one’s bones.

She didn’t want to – she really didn’t want to. Orders were clear. But she could see the look in Applejack’s eyes. It was either going to be her way, or things were going to get real complicated.

When put like that, there really wasn’t much choice at all.


~~***~~


The ride from then on was a quiet one. After relaying new directions – accompanied by some grumbling from the driver – they’d set off on their new course.

The whole way, Applejack was keenly aware of a pair of lavender eyes staring at her. It was starting to get uncomfortable. But she was in no mood to address the barrage of questions Twilight likely had loaded. 

Instead, she turned towards Peony, who seemed to be trying to pretend that the two of them didn’t exist at the moment.

“Thanks fer takin’ us,” Applejack said.

Peony, who’d been looking the other way, glanced towards her, then straightened up, fixed her glasses, and turned to face her. “Well… t-to be honest, I thought it m-might be difficult getting you to c-c-cooperate,” she said. Applejack couldn’t help but notice the return of her stutter. “But remember your promise, Applejack. Whatever we f-find there, you w-won’t be chasing it. Understood?”

Applejack bit her lip. Her gut told her no way; she was going to run herself ragged to the bitter end! But, she had promised. There was no getting around that. So, she nodded.

Then, finally, she turned to regard Twilight. Sure enough, she was giving her one of the most sympathetic, most conflicted looks Applejack had ever been subjected to.

“Twi’? Ah’m countin’ on ya ta make Rainbow understand,” she said. “If Ah… Don’t let her near me once Ah’m down there. Whatever happens. If Ah hurt her…”

Twilight nodded quickly. “Of course. I’ll make sure she knows. It… won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can.”

“Ah know,” Applejack sighed. What she wouldn’t give to see her feathery friend one more time before it happened. Just to hear her voice, to lock it away somewhere in her heart, and hope beyond hope that it survived…

A reassuring shoulder bumped against hers, like it always did when she needed it. 

“Hey, don’t sweat it, bugbrain. I’ll have you back to normal so fast you won’t even have time to miss a thing! Count on it!”

Applejack smiled to herself. Maybe it was just her imagination, but the carriage didn’t quite seem as dark as it did before.

“And Twi’?”

“Yes, AJ?”

“Don’t keep me waitin’ down there long. Ah got apples that need buckin’.”

Twilight smiled. She even stifled a giggle. “Okay, Applejack. I promise.”

The carriage tilted slightly forward. The sound of clattering wheels grew slower and slower. And with a squeak, the carriage came to a complete halt.

“We’re here,” reported Peony grimly.

Applejack and Twilight both looked at each other. Their nerves were plain to see. After sharing a look for a moment, Twilight nodded to Applejack, and the two slipped from their benches.

Peony magicked open the door ahead of them, her face impassive as they passed, and stepped down onto a moss-covered curb.

Applejack and Twilight found themselves standing in front of a towering mansion painted deepest burgundy. Trees lined the property just behind a tall wrought iron fence. One look at them, and Applejack realized they hadn’t been tended to in some time; unlike the absurdly neat and trim foliage of other properties, these trees showed signs of free growth, and fresh shoots that daringly shot out wherever they pleased.

The lawn, as well, was long and shaggy. Not a single light was on in the mansion itself.

But in that moment, Applejack wasn’t really concerned about the neglected lawn. It was the house she stared at, and as she did so, she couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that tugged at her like a needy foal.

Call her crazy, but… this place looked familiar. That couldn’t have been right, and yet…

“Twi’?” she spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“Am Ah the only one getting’ deja vu somethin’ fierce?”

Confusingly, Twilight didn’t respond. Applejack waited, but when no answer was forthcoming, she turned to look at her.

Twilight was staring at the house with a deep, deep frown.

“I’m not,” she said after a moment. “I know this place.”

Applejack frowned, then turned back to the mansion. Four stories tall… each window had its own dark set of shingles… A fountain out front with a pony balanced on one hind leg, as if frozen mid-dance.

Twilight was right, she realized. Something about this place was far too familiar to just be coincidence. She had been there before. And… so had the rest of their friends, she recalled. Yes, they had been there before.

But it wasn’t until Twilight turned to her and spoke, sounding strange, that the pieces fell together.

“Applejack… This is Cadance’s old house.”
	
> Chapter 17: Heartbreak, Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Oh!”

Rarity gave a start at Fluttershy’s unexpected squeal. “What’s the matter, darling?” she questioned as she turned around and peered over a stack of old linens. “Fall into another box?”

Fluttershy was indeed buried up to her flanks in a shipping crate. The rim was so high that she had to perch on the tips of her hooves to keep her footing, making her balance precarious enough as it was. Now all Rarity could see was a set of yellow hind quarters kicking at the open air.

Just as Rarity started to pick herself up to rescue her friend, Fluttershy extricated herself with a few flaps of her wings. In her mouth, she gripped a large sheet of yellow paper, then transferred it to her hooves once she was in the open air again. That was when Rarity made it out properly.

In Fluttershy’s hooves was a large sheet of canvas covered in a drawing only a foal could have come up with. Up in one corner was a big happy sun with a smiley face, a straight stick of brown with a mess of green scribbled above it that could only be a tree, and a large, three-story house with unusually black windows.

The designer in Rarity’s mind couldn’t help but cringe at the uneven lines and barely-filled colored spaces. It was most definitely the product of a very young pony’s mind, probably younger than even Sweetie Belle. Of course, that made it particularly hard to be critical, and she was quick to shame the critique in the back of her head into silence.

A group of ponies sat in what she assumed was the foreground. One was small, pink, and sported a pair of crescents on either side of its body. They had no other distinguishing features, but judging by their placement, they could only have been wings. The tiny pony had a very, very big smile, and directly beneath it was an inexpertly scrawled ‘ME’.

“Aw,” Rarity cooed as she approached. “This must be one of Cadance’s fillyhood drawings.”

“It’s so cute,” Fluttershy giggled. “She must have been so little.”

Rarity stifled her laughter. “Oh, she will be absolutely mortified when she finds out we found this! I wonder why she hung on to it…”

Fluttershy giggled again, and the pair turned their attention towards the other figures drawn on either side of Cadance.

On the little filly’s right sat two ponies, neither very distinguishable from each other. They were drawn with dark colors; the paper was wrinkled slightly where the crayon had been pressed in hard and scribbled vigorously. Compared to the bright colors of the rest of the drawing – the bright yellow sun, the vibrant green tree, the pink of the little Cadance drawing – the dark contrast of those two was particularly eye-catching. More-so when she saw the names beneath them.

“Those are Cadance’s parents?” she mused aloud. 

“They don’t seem very… happy, do they?” Fluttershy questioned, a slight look of apprehension on her face.

“Not at all,” Rarity agreed with a frown. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever met Cadance’s family. Or… heard her mention them at all, for that matter.”

“Me either…”

Both of them eyed the pair of drawn ponies for a few seconds more, each trying to make sense of them. The space between them and the filly Cadance, the humorless, dark facades… Rarity was starting to get the feeling that that design choice wasn’t just by chance, and that in turn was making her feel uncomfortable.

Then, their gazes shifted to the drawn Cadance’s other side.

Another pony sat there as well, looking slightly amorphous but still distinct enough. It immediately caught Rarity’s attention, as it sat directly next to Cadance, closer than anypony else. Whoever it was, they were towering, easily as huge as the tree behind them all. The figure was bright red, and very carefully filled in. A long curtain of purple flowed down one side of its body, all the way to the floor. A mane, Rarity supposed.

The strangest thing about it, however, was the lack of a name, despite being more painstakingly drawn than any other feature on the canvas. Right where one should have been, there was a mass of roughly scribbled red, like somepony had hastily and harshly scratched something out, to the point that the paper had started to rip in places.

“And… who’s this?” Rarity inquired, frowning now. “A foalsitter, perhaps? Or… relative?”

“Maybe,” Fluttershy mumbled, then turned her eyes towards the writing underneath it. “I wonder why the name is scratched out,” she added, and she sounded as troubled as Rarity felt.

Rarity agreed; it was very strange. Everything about it didn’t fit, and it roused still more questions in her mind. As if she didn’t have enough already.

At this point, Rarity was starting to get a distinct feeling that this wasn’t just some innocent fillyhood drawing. A part of her wanted to replace the drawing in its box and pretend they’d never found it. Just looking at it gave her the unpleasant feeling that she was snooping in on some very private matters indeed.

“I can’t say,” Rarity responded. Something was really bothering her now, a feeling she just couldn’t dismiss. And it was all stemming from that single figure drawn by a filly a long, long time ago. “I’m starting to suspect that there is a lot she hasn’t mentioned.”


~~***~~


When the front door was opened, Applejack half expected it to complain loudly. It would have fit with the foreboding air of the mansion she stood in front of. Instead, it issued a single squeak and gave without further comment.

Beyond the door was a grand foyer. Two sets of staircases wound up the left and right-hand walls, rising up to a landing higher up. The bannister on the stairs and the balustrade on the balcony above were both made of a smooth, opaque blue crystal so seamlessly joined together it seemed to be a single piece.

Marble tiled the floor and steps. Lavender papered the walls. Everywhere, there was heart-shaped iconography; blue, crystalline hearts in the floor tiles, heart-shaped spaces between the columns on the railings, and the chandelier was decorated with long strands of heart-shaped crystals that sparkled even in the low light.

But the first thing Applejack noticed was that every lamp was off. Only natural light from the bloody sky outside intruded on the foyer. The silence of the mansion gave Applejack pause as well. She’d been here just months before, but it felt so totally different now, like it’d been abandoned for ages.

“Landsakes,” she mumbled. “Ah know Ah’ve only been here once or twice, but Ah sure don’t recall this place bein’ so downright spooky.”

Twilight stepped in silently behind her. She looked around as well, noting the worn outlines of where paintings and coats of arms once hung from the walls. Somewhere deep in the mansion, the wind was moaning through an opening. The sound carried through the whole of the darkened mansion like some forlorn ghost, never to be located.

She had so many fond memories of this place from her fillyhood; though it wasn’t regular, there were still a number of times when Cadance would foalsit her here, and they’d play amongst the beautiful gardens out back, or read astronomy books together in her room, or any number of things. 

Her parents never liked leaving her at home alone, and they were always so busy. She almost always beat Shining Armor home, too, despite his best efforts. And after she'd become Celestia's student, her schedule only became more irregular. So, Cadance’s place had become a familiar sanctuary to her. And the staff! Mrs. Poppy Seed, the chef, who always had a fresh jam-stuffed muffin waiting with a nice tall glass of milk for good little fillies, and fretted to no end over how skrawny Twilight was. And Mr. Dapper, the most faithful butler a pony could hope for, willing to endulge his charge in whatever she did. And Ms. Jasmine, the maid, and Morning Glory, the gardener, and so many more faces she would never forget…

Gone.

Twilight had known and accepted that Cadance had moved out when she and Shining took up stewardship of the Crystal Empire. But she had not known that her entire family had apparently gone with her. To see such a cherished place from her youth so thoroughly abandoned now left a lump in her throat. The dark, empty halls… for a moment, she didn’t even recognize it.

There were a lot of things running around her head and heart at that moment. But the only thing she wanted on her mind was the existence of this very address in a long gone changeling queen’s diary, and every single question that sprouted from that singular point. That, and the looming shadow of Applejack's... departure.

Applejack turned to look at her, and she could see the conflict brewing in Twilight. It wasn’t that hard to see, and she wasn’t a fool enough to wonder why. The same questions were rattling around her own head, but she could only imagine what they were doing to her friend.

“Twi’?” she spoke up softly. “You alright?” 

Twilight jumped – literally leaped an inch off the tiled floor – and turned to her. “Oh, er… yes. Sorry, I was… just thinking how much this place has changed.”

She turned to look up the lightless stairs. Only the red sky from a window above the entryway provided any light, and even with the sun still up, the shadows were growing. 

Cadance used to greet her here whenever she came to visit. She’d descend those steps, and they’d play at being royalty; an exchange of curtsies, some playful pomp and circumstance, and then they would immediately devolve into fits of giggles.

Cadance had always been open with her, even when she was little. They’d shared everything! She’d never kept secrets. Never.

Why was she here? Why had the clues brought her here? Something must be wrong… She must have missed something, deciphered something wrong. There had to be a perfectly sound, perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. Right?

A hoof touched Twilight’s shoulder. She stiffened and looked around, and found Applejack giving her a sympathetic look.

“Twi’… Ah know ya probably got questions runnin’ ‘round yer head like a herd of spooked cattle, but Ah could really use yer smarts right about now if Ah'm ever gonna get ta the bottom of this.”

Right. Applejack didn’t have the time for her to just stand around toying with questions she had no way of answering right now. She was just as confused as Twilight was, no doubt. And being relied on… well, it helped establish a sense of priorities. Applejack's situation needed all of her attention, not something beyond her control.

“R-right,” Twilight mumbled. “Sorry.”

Applejack cracked half a grin. “The only way we’re gonna figure this out is by trackin’ down the answers ourselves. So let’s get to it.”

Twilight looked her over, then let out a breath. “You’re right. And… I might have an idea where to start. Come on; I’ll lead the way.”

Applejack smiled bigger, and stepped out of her way. 

Twilight took a moment to take a deep breath, steeling her nerves. Deep down, she made a vow: no matter what, she wasn’t leaving until she got to the bottom of this mystery. No matter what, she would prove this suspicion wrong.


~~***~~


The estate owned by Cadance’s family had stood in Canterlot for as long as anypony could remember. Even Celestia herself could barely recall a time when the estate’s land had been bare.

What had once been a summer home for one of the many noble families of the Crystal Empire became a permanent residence with the kingdom’s fall, and a shelter for one of the few families to escape the horrors at all. It had stood the test of time, harboring the royal refugees for decades. Renovations, restorations and centuries of additions meant that what was once a quaint vacation home slowly evolved into a grand abode, complete with all the fineries high society demanded.

And now it stood like an abandoned butterfly’s cocoon. Empty, hollow, and devoid of purpose.

Everything that wasn’t nailed down or too big to fit through doors had been ripped from every room and hall. It left a sense of distaste in Twilight whenever she looked into the familiar rooms or turned down a familiar hall and found it stripped bare.

Old landmarks, like the painting of the fat stallion with the most magnificent moustache she’d ever seen hanging over the staircase to the western wing, were gone. Only wear lines where their frames had hung for generations remained.

The old ballroom – a masterpiece of gold fineries and crystal inlays – looked dark and vacant, the bay windows shuttered. The exquisite dining hall, now simply a hall. The music room – one of Cadance’s favorite places – was also empty, save for the sad shape of an abandoned grand piano left behind in a corner.

The mansion was so still, so quiet. All of it felt wrong.

“Ah wonder why Cadance’s family moved out,” Applejack pondered aloud. In the quiet, her voice echoed off the walls of the corridor like a gunshot. “Seems like they had a pretty good thing here.”

“Once the Crystal Empire was reclaimed, they must’ve not seen any need for it,” Twilight hypothesized absently. She was sneaking a peek into the old family library as they passed, hoping beyond hope. Not a single book or scrap of parchment remained in the wall-to-wall bookshelves, much to her dismay. "Shoot. Nothing here... well then, maybe..."

“Nobles just givin’ up property? That’d be a first,” Applejack commented dryly as they continued on. “Ah don’t know how many hoops Ah had ta jump through ta get the rights ta a couple acres of land for the changeling district, but it weren’t just one or two. And nopony was even usin’ that land.”

“Oh come on,” Twilight chided, rolling her eyes, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason behind it. Maybe her family decided to… move to the Crystal Empire full time!”

Applejack glanced towards her. There was a lot that Twilight just said that sounded about as plausible as Rarity fancying plaid, but she let it go. It wasn't like she had a better explanation, anyway. “Cadance’s folks would have ta be some pretty die-hard Crystal Empire ponies,” she commented. Then she paused. “Now that Ah think about it, Ah don’t think Ah’ve ever met her family.”

Twilight pursed her lips in response. “I’ve met them a few times. They never really stopped to talk to me whenever Cadance was foalsitting me, though. They always seemed to be on their way out the door whenever I saw them. It was usually just us and the house staff.”

Applejack didn’t comment further on the matter. She seemed to lose herself in thought.	

As they reached another closed door, Twilight drew to a stop. It was the old study, she realized, a place she’d only been a few times. Cadance's father usually left explicit orders to leave his study undisturbed. So, naturally, they snuck in on occasion. In Twilight's mind, there was no better place to find a family secret than a forbidden room, and the place had been filled with all manner of magnificent and mystical artifacts.

Of course, in days past, the study was marked by flanking suits of armor and a family crest hanging over the doorway. Twilight had very nearly walked straight passed it without ever suspecting it.

"This is it," Twilight said. Her voice was barely higher than a whisper, but it was loud enough to catch Applejack's attention and pull her to a halt. Twilight's horn started to glow, and the door knob twisted in her telekinetic grip. Carefully, she pried the door open.

It wasn't even fully open before Twilight's heart started to sink. The study, just like every room they'd come across so far, was stripped bare. Only blank walls and floorboards remained. The only thing that confirmed she was indeed in the right room was the large, wrap-around bay windows on the far side of the room that stretched from floor to ceiling, filling the room with bloody sunlight. 

"No, no," Twilight mumbled under her breath, stepping into the room. She looked around, trying not to feel pangs of desperation. " No, no no! Not here, too..."

But everything was gone. Shelves of keepsakes and heirlooms. Ancient books, scrolls, and all manner of exotic belongings she'd only glimpsed from afar. Even the wallpaper had been stripped out. The carpet, as well, including...

Wait…

Applejack stood in the doorway, her gaze wandering blankly from wall to wall. She didn't know what Twilight had been expecting. If there was something left here, it wasn't going to be something obvious like a book or piece of furniture.

She was just considering turning and leaving when Twilight's voice drew her to a halt.

“Applejack,” she said. Her tone alone got Applejack’s full attention. “Come look at this.”

Frowning, Applejack turned and cast a curious look in Twilight's direction. She was standing only a short way in front of her, but now that she was paying attention, she noticed that Twilight's full attention was centered on something on the far end of the room from them.

At first glance, though, Applejack’s frown only grew; nothing jumped out and grabbed her attention.

Before she could say anything, Twilight started forward. Her eyes remained fixed on something on the far side of the room, near ground level. So, Applejack followed and kept her thoughts respectfully to herself. She knew Twilight’s intuition well enough by now to not second guess it… right away, anyway. But her patience was a little on the lacking side, today.

It was halfway across the room that Applejack finally noticed something very out of place, something a pony familiar with the place would’ve picked up on immediately.

In the shadow of the large arched windows, right where the wall met the floor, was a void. Floorboards had been pried up, some of them roughly, and placed in loosely organized piles on either side of the gaping hole in the floor.

As Applejack drew nearer, she could see the cross beams underneath the floor, and found herself looking down into a hole nearly big enough for a pony to fit into carved through stone foundation and down all the way into compacted dirt beneath the house itself.

“What in tarnation?” Applejack muttered to herself.

Twilight silently trotted up to the edge of the hole, a grim scowl on her face. She ignited her horn and, using its light, peered down into the darkness.

“Nothing,” she stated, straightening up. “Unless whoever did this was looking for the water table.”

Applejack stopped beside her and peered down into the hole. Sure enough, on the bottom, beyond the cross beams and stone masonry was a small, circular pool of muddy water. There was nothing else to indicate any other occupant, past or present. It was just a hole, simply put, telling of only the digger's tenacity.

She turned her head slightly, catching Twilight’s eye. “Ah'm gonna venture a guess and say this ain't normally here,” she commented sarcastically.

Twilight nodded. “Somepony else has been through here. And they’re looking for something.”


~~***~~


Princess Celestia was used to stressful situations. She’d lived through things that would give normal ponies a mental breakdown, and she’d lived through enough of them to build up a sort of tolerance, or at least methods for dealing with them.

A lesser pony would have lost their head after having their home rather casually invaded. But Celestia was calm, collected, and very organized.

She sat in her private study, a place atop the highest tower in the castle. It was a place she normally retreated to in order to gather her thoughts or spend a little alone time away from everypony else. As such, it was furnished less like a place of business, and more like one of leisure; couches, lounge cushions among many other amenities might lead one to believe that this was a place to blow off some steam. Yet, this was the place where she did some of her best work, where she could actually sit down for a spare few private moments and think without unwanted intrusions.

At present, though, she was not alone. Arrayed in front of her were some of the most powerful ponies at her disposal; shakers and movers all, ready to be delegated their share of work.

“Has the report from the front gate investigation been delivered yet?” she inquired from her seat. 

When she spoke, a stately mare in a bow tie stepped forward. “The investigation is still underway,” she reported in a clipped, business-like manner. “However, currently our efforts have been focused on containment."

At Celestia's raised, questioning eyebrow, she went on while regarding a sheet of paper. "A preliminary investigation into the nature of the weapon used to breach the checkpoint have revealed it to be, and I am quoting from the report here, "freaky plant things". Whatever it is, it has already begun to germinate. At present, all measures are being taken to ensure the invasive flora does not spread to the rest of the city, and so far our efforts are proving successful."

The mare's immediate neighbor -- a weedy-looking stallion with bifocals as thick as plate glass -- let out a clearly audible huff. She soundly ignored it. She, along with everypony else in the room, had a very good idea what the opinion the head of the Royal Botany Society would have regarding unknown and exotic sources of knowledge. Celestia was just thankful that the comment hadn't devolved into another argument.

"And the damage?" Celestia inquired.

"Extensive. Without additional complications-"

Another sigh.

"-we would be looking at a few days to make sure the infestation has been dealt with, at the least, then several months after that before the gate could be reopened," she finished. "There are worries that the blast may have fractured the mortar. Given the structure's age, a thorough evaluation of its condition will have to be performed, top to bottom, to ensure it is still structurally sound."

Celestia withheld a sigh. Instead, she nodded. “Very well. Continue to have all new arrivals diverted through the east gate for the foreseeable future and instruct the railroad to divert all trains away from the main platform. We will just have to make due with the east and west stations for the time being. "

The mare bowed. “Consider it done, Your Highness.”

"And have a sample delivered to the Botany Society, as well," she added. "The sooner we understand what we are dealing with, the quicker we can protect the populace."

The bespecled stallion perked up at that. The mare showed only professionalism in her nod. "Understood."

For a moment, a thought flashed through Celestia's mind, there and gone again but destined to pester her again in a few minutes, like it had been for some time now.

A barn set ablaze, emerald fire roaring inside a dome of violet light, visible for miles in every direction...

Celestia frowned to herself. Deja vu? Or something a little more... intentional? She shook her head minutely, casting aside the ominous feeling.

She then turned to the stallion standing on the mare's other side; a well-built navy blue unicorn clad in silver and blue armor. Canterlot’s standing Captain of the Guard in Shining Armor’s absence.

“Sergeant Buck,” Celestia said with a kind smile. “Have you concluded your search?”

“We have, Your Highness,” Buck spoke up gruffly. He was an old hand, seasoned by many years of unremarkable service, but finding himself as the Captain of the Guard in Canterlot? Standing before and taking orders directly from Princess Celestia herself? This was all very new to him, and admittedly, he felt very out of his element.

“The trail of the changeling queen went cold inside the Crystal Caves. Magical interference from the deep earth ley-line, we suspect. Threw off our tracking spells too much."

Celestia nodded. The changeling would know about the energies buried deep beneath Canterlot; a freak geological feature born from multiple ley lines converging beneath the Canterhorn. Even miles below the surface, the energies were potent enough to turn solid rock to crystals humming with wild magics. Chrysalis herself had taken advantage of the intense ambient magic down in the crystal caves to hide Cadance before, even from her. But to warp in and out with so much magical interference, too much for any sane pony to attempt the same thing... changeling magic kept catching her by surprise.

It was a known security risk - by both sides - and addressing it was an ongoing challenge. But for the time being, figuring out how to deal with it was not at the top of Celestia's staggering to-do list.

"I have units of out-of-uniform troops spread out across the city, so as not to raise public concerns," Sergeant Buck went on. "As of yet, no pony has spotted the suspect, and our detection spells are not picking up anything unusual inside the city. It is too early to say officially, but there is every indication that she has gone to ground."

“I agree,” Celestia noted. “It seems highly unlikely that Queen Aconita has remained in Canterlot, which is perhaps even more worrying."

Her attendants all glanced between each other, looking slightly uneasy. After Equestria's last experience with an antagonistic changeling queen, having one on the loose could only mean trouble.

"Notify every division in Equestria," Celestia instructed. "Keep them on high alert for the time being, until we can say with absolute certainty that the threat as passed. I do not know what Aconita's next move will be, but we must expect that further incidents will happen in the future. If you can, though, instruct the Captains to be as discreet as possible. Tensions are high enough after the incident in Ponyville; we don't need to make things worse by declaring martial law. And... have a dispatch sent to the Crystal Empire as well. Shining Armor will want to know about our adversary's peculiar behavior, I suspect."

Buck nodded and bowed. “Yes Ma’am—I mean, yes, Your Majesty.”

Celestia smiled. While Buck privately chastised himself, she turned her attention to the next of her attendants. "Miss Sunshine, I would like to address the masses soon. Has any information about Queen Aconita's breach-"

An unexpected knock on the door cut her off.

All heads turned, a few incredulous eyebrows raised, towards the shut door. Celestia herself paused mid-sentence, her lips pursing slightly. "Enter," she prompted.

The door cracked open, admitting a stoic - though inwardly very self-conscious - Royal Guard. "A thousand apologies for the interruption, but there is a pony insisting he speak with you at once."

Sergeant Buck gave the guard a critical look, much to his discomfort. "We are in the middle of an important meeting and are not to be disturbed, corporal. If this is another aristocrat demanding an audience, tell them to wait their turn," he said shortly.

The guard quailed under his superior's glare, but did not back out of the room. "He says he is with the Royal Inquisition Department, sir. I can't just turn him away."

That took Sergeant Buck by surprise, cutting off anything he might have had to say. Instead, Celestia raised her voice to full the sudden silence.

"Please show him in," she instructed.

The guard nodded, then disappeared. Hushed words were exchanged beyond the door for a moment, and then they were pushed open wide to admit a single pony.

If the congregation had been caught off guard before, it was nothing compared to who they saw stride solemnly into the chamber. Even Celestia's eyes widened a little.

“Mister Sunbeam? This is unexpected," she said. "Do you have something to report?"

The pony known as 'Sunbeam' likely had parents with a terrible sense of humor, for he could not have been any further from his namesake. He was a cold, humorless fellow whose only two facial functions were blank, and scowling. But when one heads up a department charged with criminal investigations of an internal nature, 'humor' is not typically a part of the job description. He was rarely seen, but to those who knew him, he was usually the last pony one wanted to see approaching. When Sunbeam personally got involved, chances were that someone was about to have a bad day. For the rest of their lives. From behind iron bars.

"Your Highness," he said politely, and stepped forward. He presented a large envelope, and levitated it towards Celestia. "My team has concluded its investigation into yesterday's Ponyville incident. I thought you might like to see our findings yourself."

Celestia looked up towards him, a trace of curiosity in her eyes. "And... you felt the need to bring this yourself?"

"Indeed," he said without inflection. "I thought it might save you a future trip to my office for explanations."

Celestia's eyebrow went up just a fraction. The head of the department didn't play errand boy, not to Celestia's knowledge, and she could recall when he was but a recruit.

While the rest of the congregation watched with curious looks all round, she illuminated her horn and took hold of the large envelope. Inside, she found a number of sheets of paper; reports, diagrams, an album's worth of photos depicting various pieces of rubble and scorched earth, and a chart.

That chart was placed right on top, right where Celestia would see it first. She pulled it out, and immediately recognized it as an arcanograph; a reading, in excruciating detail, of a particular magical signature, broken down to its basest axiom values. In simpler terms, a spell, disassembled and evaluated bit by individual bit. To most ponies, it would look like a hectic mess of blots and bars resembling a psychological test instead of charted values, but Celestia had had literal lifetimes to familiarize herself with the process. At the top of the chart, the title "Trace scan #3440-B" was clearly visible.

But right away, Celestia noticed something very, very peculiar about the reading.

She looked up sharply and caught Sunbeam's eye, who met it squarely. "Is this accurate?" She inquired, her voice a little too level.

"Quadruble-checked, twice myself," he stated. "I had every test and analysis performed on the residual magic at the scene of the crime. There can be no doubt. While the traces left from the illusion spell were approximately a ninety-two-percent match to known changeling magic wavelengths, there was another trace buried beneath it from an earlier spell, likely one that triggered the initial explosion. As you can see, the two were not a match, not remotely. We almost didn't pick it up at all, actually; the fallout from the illusion spell nearly masked it completely. I am not at liberty to make a judgment at this time, but it seems likely that that was not a coincidence."

Celestia glanced quickly back to the report. She studied it, and studied it again, but try as she might, the familiar pattern on the graph did not change.

For a long time, the room remained tensely quiet. Those gathered glanced to one another, exchanging questioning looks. What had Celestia just been given?

"Sergeant Buck," Celestia spoke up, her tone unusually sharp.

"Your Majesty?"

"I have new orders. Take a detachment of your finest guards and head to this address with all due haste." As she spoke, she magicked a piece of paper into existence with a flick of her horn. The words on it weren't written with ink, but rather had been scorched in with intense heat.

Sergeant Buck reached out for it, and nearly dropped it; the heat it gave off caught him off guard, like it had been baking in the sun. But he did not falter long, and quickly snatched it out of the air before it drifted to the ground, then studied the message. After a moment, his eyebrow rose. "Sardar Way, Your Majesty? And... may I ask for nature of this mission?"

Celestia rose from her seat. "Search and rescue."


~~***~~


Twilight led the way through the abandoned corridors, her horn throwing back the dark gloom. They were on the dark side of the manor now, where the bloodying sunlight could not reach them directly. This made things all the darker, and all the more unsettling.

Immediately behind her was Applejack, who constantly kept her head on a swivel. It wasn't as quiet as it'd been previously, however.

"I knew something wasn’t right," Twilight muttered to herself. "There's something really weird going on here... Cadance's family wouldn't need to make a hole that big if they knew something was there. Whoever did that was taking a shot in the dark. For that matter, they should still be here! What the hay is going on here?"

"Glad we're on the same page," Applejack murmured. She glanced into another side room, but only found more empty space, nothing that might indicate they weren't alone in the sprawling mansion. The window on the far side of the room troubled her, though; the sky had changed to a spectacular shade of crimson. The sun would set soon, and for the last time before things got... complicated.

"Sugarcube, Ah don't mean ta push ya, but where exactly are we goin' now?" She inquired. "It feels like we've been wanderin' around forever."

Twilight's response wasn't immediate. She huffed, a sour look on her face. "I'm trying to find Cadance's room, but everything looks so different now! Okay, uh... we climbed two sets of stairs, we turned right... and a left... It should be..."

Twilight paused in front of a door just like the countless others before and after, grappling with uncertainty. Then, she took hold of the nob in her telekinetic grip, and twisted it. The door came open with a slight squeak-creak-pop, which made Twilight's expression light up with recognition. By the time the door was fully opened, she knew she'd picked right. "Here we are!"

Applejack peered around her friend's shoulder.

The chamber in front of her was... not what she'd been expecting. It was not particularly large, or particularly noteworthy in shape, either. True, it was too large for Applejack's humble tastes, but compared to the many other rooms she'd seen so far, it was actually rather plain.

Of course, it was entirely empty. Only a set of bookshelves around a dark and empty fireplace had been left behind, and likely only because they were secured to the wall in some fashion. A plush plum carpet muffled their hoof steps as they edged inside. The window across the room was bare, letting in plenty of bloody red sunlight. Beyond the window, Applejack could make out the far-off spires of Canterlot Castle silhouetted against a cloudless ruby sky. As they slowly walked into the room, Applejack noticed that the walls were papered with a flowery pink covering, unlike the rest of the mansion.

While Applejack looked around, Twilight continued on to the middle of the room. The whole way, she looked deeply troubled. Applejack only paid attention to her when she let out a loud, disparaging sound. "Oh no, not here, too!"

She turned, and immediately found what Twilight was referring to.

In one corner of the room, the carpet had been sliced apart and peeled back, the edges slightly burned from magic. The surgically removed section had been rolled back, exposing floorboards that had also been broken free and carefully stacked against the wall. When Applejack approached, she found the hole went all the way down to the hefty support beams, insulation roughly parted and spread about carelessly on the bedroom floor. The only reason the culprit had stopped digging, by the looks of it, was because they'd hit the slats on the roof of the room beneath them.

Applejack turned to regard Twilight, who looked somewhere between distraught and outraged, only to notice another roll of carved up carpet and floorboards in the other corner of the room. 

"Do ya think maybe Cadance or her family..." Applejack started.

"No!" Twilight snapped back loudly. She pointed at the holes like they'd mortally offended her in some way. "Whoever made these didn't know where to look for something. It can only mean that somepony already beat us here!"

Applejack frowned. "Uh... who?"

Twilight threw her hooves up in the air. "I don't know! The Court, maybe? But how could they have known to look here? Ugh, none of this makes any sense! What the hay are they looking for?!"

Applejack glanced towards her friend. She opened her mouth to say something... then paused.

For a moment, she didn't really understand what had caught her attention. It was so faint, yet just substantial enough for her to pick up on. Like... ambient warmth, only... not. Like static electricity, only... not. She didn't understand what it was, simply because she didn't have a word for it. But something very strange was trying to get her attention; there was no other way to put it.

"Twi'?" She said, catching her friend's attention mid-tirade. When she turned, she found Applejack standing in place, her head cocked to one side as if listening for something. "Does somethin' feel... different in here ta you?"

Twilight paused, frowning at her. She cast her head around this way and that, eyes searching carefully, before returning to Applejack. "I don't feel anything," she said. "Why? Do you?"

Applejack frowned. What was this sensation? It nagged at her. It was just present enough for her to notice, but not enough for her to identify. It didn't tingle against her skin or in her nose or any sense she was used to. But it was there. Real. Right?

She took a step forward. The sensation became just a touch stronger. Now she knew she was on to something. But what?

Twilight watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as her friend carefully stepped forward, head down like a hound on the scent of something. "Applejack?"

She just held up a hoof, then kept going. She passed Twilight, meandering this way and that. She passed the holes without giving them a second look. She was trying to narrow down the source. But it was so indistinct...

She trotted all the way up to the window, aware only that the sensation was getting stronger, and seemed to be coming from that direction. Beyond that, she couldn't tell. She stepped up to the window sill, confused.

And suddenly it was behind her. Applejack paused, off-guard, and turned. The sensation was close, very close, yet still nothing more distinct than an echo. But she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"There's... somethin' over here," Applejack finally stated slowly. "Ah can't tell what, but..."

Twilight stepped closer, looking intrigued. "Like... magic?"

Applejack scratched her head. "Erm... maybe? Ah don't know; magic and Ah ain't typically on speakin' terms. Ya know... since Ah usually blow stuff up, instead."

Twilight frowned, but even in her curiosity, Applejack could see just a flicker of hope in her eyes. She started to trot over to her, and as she did, her horn lit up. She swept it from left to right, slowly, like a metal detector sweeping a beach. About three feet from Applejack, she paused. "Huh... What is that?" She murmured to herself.

Applejack glanced down at her hooves, the general area she thought the sensation was coming from. "Y'all feel it, too? Well that's a relief. But don't go askin' me what it is. Ah ain't got the foggiest clue."

"Well," Twilight said, looking her friend in the eye now as she straightened up, "you picked up on it long before I did. And... I never would've noticed it if you hadn't said anything. Hay, I don’t know if anypony would've noticed. It's not just faint, it's... I don't know... Like a reaction, not radiation..."

Applejack raised any eyebrow. "So...?"

Twilight shook her head, an uneasy look on her face. Instead of continuing, she asked,"Well... What does it feel like? Can you find the source?"

Applejack fidgeted uncomfortably. "Ah... don't know. Like a feelin'? Hey, don't give me that look, this is new territory fer me. But if Ah had ta venture a guess, Ah'd say it was comin' from right around..."

She paused, because as she gestured towards the floor in front of her, she noticed something. There, on the carpeted floor, were four divots spaced a foot apart from each other in a circle, like the imprints of the feet of some kind of stool, or stand.

"Twi'… Did somethin' used ta be here?" She asked, gesturing to the spot again.

Twilight looked down at it and frowned. "Um... just a table, I think. And a jewelry box, or... something. Cadance never let me see. She just said it was something... very old."

The two just stared at each other for a second, Applejack waiting for Twilight to go on while Twilight's eyes got big.

"Oh... ponyfeathers," Twilight breathed.

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Uh, what?"

Abruptly, Twilight was walking away, shaking her head rapidly. "No no no no, that can't be right. Nope, nope, that doesn't make any sense whatsoever! I mean, everything about this whole situation makes zero sense, but this?! We have to be missing something. That's it! We're missing some clue, that's all!"

She finished with a slightly hysterical giggle, then whipped around to face Applejack, who flinched back a step.

"I guess I was wrong!" She beamed. "Stupid paranoia getting to me, ha! There's nothing here linking your mother to Cadance at all!"

"Uh... Twi? You... feelin' alright?"

"Yep! Great! Whew,that's a load off my shoulders! Guess we just missed a clue or something! Oh, but I guess that kinda leaves us back at square one. Well, I'm sure we'll figure something out! But boy did we dodge a bullet, huh? Now I feel kinda silly ever suspecting Cadance."

Applejack's eyebrow only went up higher. "Then why was the address ta this place in my Ma's diary?"

She knew Twilight wouldn't have an answer for that, and sure enough, Twilight waffled, looking unsure. "W-well, maybe it was... a mistake?"

The look Applejack gave her must have been a very skeptical one, because Twilight winced and averted her gaze. "And all the holes? How do ya explain that."

"errr... shawdy construction practices? Looters?"

"Look, Twi'," Applejack started, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Ah get ya don't want ta think Cadance is all wrapped up in this, but -"

"She's not!" Twilight burst out so loud Applejack fell quiet. Immediately, Twilight looked embarrassed; she bit her lip and turned away, flushing. "It's... it's just not possible. Think about it, Applejack; if Cadance knew anything, why wouldn't she come forward? If she knew your mother, shouldn't she feel obligated to tell you everything she knows?"

Applejack opened her mouth, then shut it. In truth, that possibility had been stewing around inside her head ever since she discovered this location, and it definitely didn't sit right with her. The only reason Cadance wouldn't tell her what she knew was if...

"If she knows, it means she's deliberately kept it from you," Twilight said. Just saying it looked like it made her sick. "The only other possibility is that she doesn't know anything, in which case we're wasting our time here, like Peony said."

Twilight started to walk away, and for a moment, it seemed like she was intending to leave that room completely. She stopped just a few steps from the door, almost reluctantly, and cast her gaze around. "None of this makes any sense. None of it has so far. I'm sorry, I just... I need a minute to think."

Applejack couldn't think of anything to say as Twilight stepped out of the room to be alone with her many, many confusing thoughts.


~~***~~


None of it made sense. None of it! Twilight scuffed her hoof on the marble tiles as hard as she could, but that didn't help.

Why was this house so empty? Why was this address in Carnation's book? If Cadance knew anything, why hadn't she told Applejack when she discovered her condition? There had to be a rational explanation. She just had to take a step back, clear her head, and sort through it all.

She took a deep breath, and drifted over to the opposite side of the hall, and propped herself up on the sill of a window.

Opposite Cadance's old room, the windows opened up on the rear of the manor, where the two main wings of the house shot out and away from the rest, making the estate resemble a blocky A from above.

The backyard gardens were extensive, perfect for entertaining guests or just getting away from it all. There were flower beds of intricate design, a three-tiered  fountain pond full of lilies and usually colorful water birds, and a great big hedge maze in the back. The grounds couldn't have been neglected long, and yet...

Everything was so wrong. It was like she was in some sort of terrible nightmare.

Okay, think, Twilight... If Cadance is involved, why would she not tell us what she knew? Maybe... it was Carnation's wish? But she'd never leave Applejack without some sort of hint... The only other possibility is that she doesn't know. But that doesn't make sense... Why was Carnation coming here, then? Maybe... her parents? Could they know something?

Neither option seemed plausible. There was too much evidence that Cadance knew something, and yet not enough to prove she knew anything. The only solid, irrefutable bit of information they possessed was the address of this very estate in Carnation's diary. But that could mean anything.

Okay, okay... so that isn't getting me anywhere. Maybe... maybe a change of perspective?

Twilight physically backed up from the window a few paces, something she did when trying to, in a more metaphorical sense, take a step back from a situation. Little ticks like this helped her stay sane when working through advanced formula and theorems. Or deal with Pinkie Pie. Ironically, it'd been Cadance who'd taught her this little trick, something that occurred to her with no small amount of chagrin.

Okay... if I can't figure out why she was here, maybe I can figure out what she was looking for. Maybe Carnation was sneaking onto the property. Maybe Cadance didn't even know she was here! Yes, that might just... but I'm getting off track. Why target Cadance, or her family, specifically? What did they...?

A glint caught her eye. She winced, shielding her eyes. Peering between her hooves, she noticed the culprit.

Out in the backyard, straddling the grand fountain on spindly legs, stool a crystalline structure nearly two stories tall. The cause of the glare had come from the sun setting just enough to refract a beam of light straight into Twilight's eyes.

Something about the structure caught her attention, however. It was tall, slender, and fanned out near the base. Just like another crystal formation she'd seen before, only one infinitely larger than this. Just like...

"… wait a minute..."


~~***~~


Applejack wandered around Cadance's old room, not quite sure what to do. She could tell this whole endeavor was taking its toll on Twilight. It was taking a toll on both of them.

She knew she was close to something, but she couldn't figure out what that might be. The whole time she paced aimlessly, she was aware of that not-feeling sitting in the exact same spot by the window. It was the only thing of note even in the room, so after putting it off, she worked her way back to that same spot. Her gut told her that that had to have something to do with the key.

Something about that sensation just... wouldn't leave her alone. Like she should know what it was. But like an only half-remembered memory, it stayed infuriatingly beyond her recognition, but just close enough to taunt her.

Applejack took a seat in front of those four marks on the carpet and frowned down at them.

"What are ya...?" She murmured to herself, and extended a hoof. She traced the shapes of the divots, lost in thought. She lightly touched the contours of each one, one after the other, and pursed her lips.

It was on the fourth one - the one furthest from her - that it happened.

As she leaned forward slightly, she noticed something tingle, ever so slightly, against her shoulder. She paused, glancing down towards it. Nothing caught her eye, but she could feel it.

Perplexed, she leaned back, and raised her hoof slowly into the air. The feeling got stronger and stronger, the higher she raised it, until it was just about on eye level.

She was not expecting the spark, but it happened all the same.

With a pop, an emerald light struck her on the foreleg. Not hard, but hard enough to make her jump in surprise and feel every nerve from her hoof to her shoulder start buzzing.

Applejack jumped back, flying to her hooves. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her brain processed what had happened. It didn't take her long for her to comprehend what that had been.

Changeling magic... old, weak, but unmistakable.

What was more it was here, in Cadance's room. That certainly made for some condemning evidence, didn't it?

Applejack was still rubbing her hoof, frowning at it as she processed this development. So at first, she didn't notice the shimmer of light, not until it grew bright enough.

Floating in the air, roughly on eye level, was a dancing aurora of faint emerald light roughly the size of her hoof. At its heart was another color... a vaguely pink one. It held a peculiar shape, a defined shape, like some sort of circlet with radiating ends on top. Something about the shape seemed... familiar.

Applejack...

"What in tar-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the ball of hazy light shot over her shoulder, and in a blur of speed, slipped out the half-closed door. As if caught in the tailwind, the door slammed shut behind it.

The following silence was deafening. Applejack stood in place, unmoving, for the longest time. "Welp... this is new..."

"Applejack!"

She jumped in surprise and spun around towards the door. "Twilight? That you?" She shouted. The voice had been distant, muffled, but unmistakable.

"Applejack, come here!"

Applejack trotted towards the door, raising an eyebrow "Did y'all see that, too? Where'd it go?"

This time, there was no response. Now she was really getting confused. So, she pushed open the door and quickly trotted from the room, expecting to find Twilight just down the hall.

She didn't.

What she found was a hallway in total, pitch black darkness, darker than even a moonless night. She froze, a chill running down her spine, but before she could back out of the hall, the door to Cadance's bedroom slammed shut behind her - all on its own.

For many, many long seconds, Applejack couldn't see anything. It was so dark she couldn't see a single thing around her, not even her own muzzle or hoof. "Twilight? Hey, Twilight! Where are you?"

No response.

"Twilight, this ain't funny!" She tried one more time, but by now she had a sneaking suspicion that this was not her friend's doing. It would certainly be an odd time for her to develop a desire for pranks.

Her voice rang hollowly off the walls, the sole source of sound anywhere. Except... for a peculiar tapping on the other side of the hall.

A wave of panic started to creep up on her. Feeling around blindly, she turned around and edged back towards the bedroom door. She found its frame first, and after working up to about where the doorknob was supposed to be... she found nothing.

"Great," she grumbled to herself. "What in the hay is goin' on here?"

She turned back around, and sightlessly cast her eyes this way and that, looking for anything. She didn't see anything, of course, but the longer she stood there, the more her other senses began to pick up on things.

Across from her, something was drumming against glass. It was a light, intermittent sound, like a very light drizzling rain.

There was a scent in the air, one that instantly made her wrinkle her muzzle. It was like bad eggs, only worse.

Applejack scowled to herself. She didn't know what was going on, but in situations like this, she needed to prioritize essentials. And essential number one: light. She needed to see her surroundings. The longer she didn't, the more her skin crawled. It felt so much like she wasn't alone here...

But Applejack had only one option. Grumbling internally, she closed her eyes and changed. The hot air rolling up her body was comforting, but all too soon, it was gone, leaving the dark hallway somehow colder than before.

She opened her eyes, and cast her gaze around. Her changeling eyes were much more sensitive to darkness, but even with their aid, she could barely make out anything. It was just too dark. The only thing she could verify was that she was in a hallway-shaped area.

The only other option she had made her even more uneasy. She glanced up sightlessly in the direction of her sharp horn.

Ah... Ah don't need much... just a teensy little...

Applejack pursed her lips in concentration, and for one of the few times in her whole life, she intentionally lit her horn. Not much, for fear of what her rampant magic would do. Just a tiny, itsy bitsy amount.

What she got wasn't a deadly discharge, at least. But the angry humming her horn gave off was disquieting. She could feel the immense wall of pressure pushing against the back of her mind, a force she'd seldom had to deal with in her life, and the few times she did, she rarely resisted its demands for long.

But Applejack got what she wanted. It wasn't a spell, not even in the most abstract of terms. She simply managed to bring her horn to a glowing, hissing, spark-spitting candle-light level. But at least she could see her surroundings.

To Applejack's relief, she was still in the old mansion. Except...

To her confusion, there was a rich red carpet under her hooves now. And on the wall next to Cadance's bedroom door was a painting of... some kind. It wasn't that her light wasn't bright enough to reveal it, but rather that it made no sense. There was abstract, one of Rarity's favorites, and then there was... that. Something about it seemed almost... ethereal. Brush strokes didn't normally rithe languidly in their borders.

Skin crawling now, Applejack made her way carefully down the hall, looking this way and that. Right away, though, her eyes were drawn to the window next to her. Her assessment had been right; there was a light drizzle tapping against the window. Except, rain wasn't typically as black as tar.

"What in tarnation is goin' on?" She repeated apprehensively to herself.

"Applejack!"

The familiar voice of Twilight made Applejack give a start - and accidentally fire off a golf-ball-sized jet of emerald fire at the ceiling.

"Twilight?" Applejack shouted down the hall. "Where are ya?" It had been close; in the same hallway as her. But even with her horn lit, Applejack couldn't see far enough to find her friend. And that was worrying her.

"This way! Hurry!"

Applejack bit her lip. By the sounds of it, Twilight's voice was coming from the far end of the hall, far, far out of reach of her light. She was getting a very, very bad feeling about all of this, and her gut wasn't usually wrong when it came to these kinds of situations.

"Twilight, fer pete's sake, where are ya? What's goin' on?" She shouted.

"Come on! You're not going to believe what I found!"

Applejack chewed her lip. "Ah can't see a darn thing, Twi'! Can ya just come ta me?"

A pause. Her voice echoed back at her, once, twice, too many times. It was like the air was processing her request. Then...

Something wet flopped onto the floor in front of her, just out of eyesight. But she heard it. It shuffled, popping and cracking joints as it straightened up, taller and taller. And taller.

"Oh come on, Applejack," giggled Twilight voice from right in front of her, "that's not how the game is played."

The rain striking the windows grew louder, rising from a drone to a roar.

A wet, heavy step sounded, louder than seemed real. Applejack backed up. She couldn't see what was in front of her, not yet, but she could make out... something. Movement, mostly.

"I know!" Said Twilight's voice gleefully. "Let's play something else!"

And then, it leaned forward. Applejack took one look at its slimy, oily face, and felt all the blood run cold inside her.

The thing standing in front of her oozed and dribbled black tar. It rolled off of it in thick, viscous wads, like it was made of nothing but the stuff. Except, this walking, towering form had the most alarming smile of stained, dagger-like teeth.

It shambled forward on four long stilt-like legs, leaving a trail of discharged goo behind it. A long, oily mane hung matted and heavy off one shoulder. There were no traces of any eyes whatsoever, just a wrinkled fold in the tar on its face.

"How about," it said, miming Twilight's voice to a sickening degree. "Hide and seek? Ooo, that sounds fuuun, right?"

Applejack just stared at it, pale-faced.

"Okay! I'll count to one hundred, and if I catch you..." It giggled meaningfully, only this time, there was a very different tone buried underneath it, one that growled. "One... Two..."

Applejack backed up, too terrified to react properly. But at least she had time. She just needed to-

"… Skip a few, ninety-nine, one-hundred!"

And with a blood-curdling shriek, it lunged. It moved with terrifying, unnatural speed, going from the very brim of the pool of light to a scant few feet from Applejack herself in a terrifying blur of speed, even while wobbling like a marionette with half its strings tangled together. It moved too fast for Applejack to even react.

A sudden rush of heat and air whipped through the hall, passed over Applejack's shoulder, and with a roar, the hallway was filled with light so intense it blotted out everything. The monster let out another scream, but even its form was lost in the bright light.

Applejack recoiled, utterly blinded. The only sense of directionality she had came from hearing the sounds of the monster's real voice grating against her ears. That was plenty for her.

She turned her back on the monster, and sprinted as fast as she could in the other direction. The screaming faded behind her, but she forced herself on, just in case.

The light all around her unexpectedly condensed. Applejack slowed as the light collapsed in on itself, going from an all-encompassing nova to a small ball of illumination, one that shimmered like an aurora. It passed over Applejack's nose, then darted out of sight in a fraction of a second.

Applejack slowed to a halt. For a number of reasons.

She stood in front of a babbling fountain that gushed crystal clear water down a three-tiered set of basons, the lowest one being easily the size of a swimming pool.

The sun was out, warm and pleasant high in the sky. Not a cloud bothered it. When she tilted her head back to regard the sky with huge, confused eyes, a summer wind blew the scent of flowers over her.

"O...okay... What in tarnation is goin' on?" She mumbled, glancing around. 

As if in answer, a giggle rang through the air. Applejack whipped around, half expecting that monster to have caught up with her… wherever she was. But when she spun around, two things immediately caught her attention.

Standing behind her, positively glowing in the sun, stood a familiar mansion, only from an angle she wasn’t familiar with. All around her stretched flower beds and low hedges, all lovingly maintained.

The second thing she saw, for just a split second, was a pink blur flitting passed her ankles.

Applejack wheeled around again, following the blur of motion, and found… not something she was expecting.

A small pegasus filly was sprinting away from her, mane and tail fluttering behind her as she went. Their colorations instantly caught her attention. Dark purple, pink, and yellow…

“…Cadance…” Applejack murmured under her breath.

This was not the Cadance she knew; instantly she could tell that. She was so small, easily younger than even Apple Bloom in appearance. And there was the telltale lack of a horn.

To Applejack’s complete surprise, the filly came to a screeching halt and abruptly turned around to beam straight at her.

“Come on!” She giggled, then sprinted off again.

Applejack blinked, completely nonplussed. By now she'd concluded that she was in some kind of spell. But that? That had been new.

Applejack was still trying to figure out what was going on. All the while, the strange incarnation of Cadance was sprinting away. She stopped some twenty feet away, then turned back to look at her expectantly. “Come on!” she hollered again, sounding slightly impatient now.

Applejack’s mouth worked soundlessly. 

A sound next to her made up her mind for her.

The fountain gave an unusual bubbly belch, drawing Applejack’s attention. The water had stoppered up, except for a thin dribble of black ooze issuing from the top. Stone cracked, rotting away. Weeds grew in long, black brambly snarls.

MINE…..

Applejack sprinted as fast as she could in Cadance’s direction, who was still smiling obliviously at her, completely ignorant of the gushing tar filling her family’s fountain. Once Applejack drew closer, she turned and galloped away again, giggling. It was only at the last second that Applejack noticed, with a sinking feeling, that she was headed straight for a flowery hedge maze.


~~***~~


“This way! Come on!”

“Slow down, dagnabit! Where are ya takin’ me?”

“You’ll see. Hurry!”

Applejack clenched her jaw. Considering the last time something had wanted to show her something in recent memory, it’d tried to eat her face, she wasn’t exactly filled with a warm fuzzy feeling.

But on Cadance ran, somehow managing to match Applejack’s pace with such short little legs. Deeper and deeper into the hedge maze she ran, and the further she ran, the higher the walls became.

Applejack definitely didn’t have a warm fuzzy feeling. But what other choice did she have? Every time she glance over her shoulder, something or another would catch her eye. A withering stretch of hedge being strangled to death by jet black, thorny vines. Puddles of black ooze seeping up out of the ground. It was enough to keep her tailing after Cadance despite her reservations.

On and on they went until the hedges were as tall as skyscrapers and the gloom began to take hold. The encroaching darkness added still more urgency to Applejack’s stride, speeding her up.

She came whizzing around a corner, nearly lost her footing, and just caught a glimpse of Cadance’s tail vanishing around another turn. She barely had time to straighten out before she banked again and just barely cleared the corner.

But she didn’t find herself flying into yet another featureless corridor. What she found instead was a rather spacious garden the size of a small park situated right in the middle of the maze itself.

Flat stones made a winding walkway from the entrance, to a small pond to Applejack’s right, and off towards a stand of tall trees to her left. Standing right in the intersection, Cadance sat down and smiled at her. “Over there,” she said brightly, pointed a hoof off to the left, and shimmered out of existence.

Applejack blinked at the dissipating motes, then turned in the direction indicated.

Two ponies sat beneath the largest tree in the grove’s heart. One she could see clearly. The other, she could not.

As Applejack approached, she spotted a familiar filly; little Cadance, sitting in the shadow of the gigantic willow tree. Her eyes sparkled, her features the picture of childish energy. She was gesturing animatedly, all the while watching the one sitting next to her, smiling brightly. “And- and they say, it filled the sky with all sorts of pretty lights that could be seen all day! Even at night! It must’ve been amazing to see!”

Applejack frowned at her, perplexed. She approached, curious… and came to a complete and total halt.

Carnation sat on the other side of the tree. Not a pony. Applejack’s mother sat, gnarled horn, fluttering wings, holey limbs and all, while giving Cadance an indulging look.

Applejack stood in place, unable to react. She was just… there, sitting completely at ease. Applejack had only actually seen her once or twice, and yet, she’d never forget that appearance.

Her red mane shimmered in the sunlight, long and bushy. Her pink eyes twinkled with bemusement as she regarded Cadance while she told her story.

“That sounds incredible, Cadenza,” Carnation told her. She spoke slowly, taking her time to enunciate each word fully, just like she had in the memories Hyacinth had shown her six months ago.

Cadance settled down, but she continued to smile. “Well… it’s just a story. I haven’t ever seen it. But Mom and Dad say we will someday. They’re always so busy.” Her smile faltered, giving way to a frown.

Carnation gave her an understanding look.

…What am I supposed to tell her…?

Applejack jumped, her head quickly whipping around. That time, Cadance’s voice had come from right in her ear. Only… it wasn’t a filly’s voice. It had been much more mature, and… sad-sounding.

It had only been fleeting, and then it was replaced by Carnation’s silky voice. “Well then, I will simply have to keep you company in the meantime. How does that sound?”

She always knew what to say…

Cadance bounced happily, beaming brightest of all. “Okay!”

What am I supposed to tell her…? Would she even believe me?

Carnation lowered her head towards Cadance, still smiling. Only now she had a playfully conspiratorial look on her face. “So, did you get it?”

Cadance smiled bigger. “Yep!”

She turned, and from a bag lying next to her, she pulled out an ancient book. It’s spine and cover was cracked and peeling, the edges warped and discolored. Even so, Applejack could still make out the faintly blue coloration underneath a millennia of stains and wear.

Would she believe me that… the only reason I ever met her mother… was so that she could use me?

Carnation smiled the most genuine smile she could. A smile that did not affect her eyes at all. “Thank you, dear. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Cadance gave her an uncertain look. “You promise you’re just going to take a peek? Daddy will get really mad if he finds out I took it.”

Carnation smiled, and placed a hoof over the tomb. “I promise.” 

She only wanted what my family knew… she didn’t care… She was just as heartless as the rest of them… At least… at first…

Applejack ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth. Her throat had gone dry. She watched, almost too afraid to look away, as Carnation pulled the tomb towards her, and cracked it open.

“Disappointing, isn’t it?”

Applejack’s breath caught in her lungs as Carnation’s wide eye whipped round to look at her without her head moving an inch. When she grinned, it exposed a mouth full of twisted, cracked fangs. “Poor Applejack, having to find out her mother was just as manipulative and cruel as the rest of us. Do you see? Not even your paragon of hope escapes me! NONE of you do! You are all MINE!”

Applejack backed up. “Shut up,” she breathed, then louder, “Shut up! She beat you!”

The twisted visage’s smile only grew. “But can you? Are you really as great as your mother?!”

“Ah told ya ta shut up!” Applejack bellowed.

All at once, with a flicker of motion, the figure of her mother was on her hooves and facing her. Her mane had turned oily, her hide glistening.

“Why? Afraid to confront what you already think? Are you really so desperate to delude yourself into thinking you aren’t trying to fill her horseshoes?!”

The figment’s shadow began to grow, until it drowned everything around Applejack in inky darkness. “Afraid that you won’t measure up to her expectations? THAT is why you refuse to acknowledge your birth right. You trick yourself into thinking it’s because you want your hive to treat you as an equal, but that’s not it at all – no no no! It’s all because you know you can’t possibly measure up to the great and mighty Queen Carnation!”

“SHUT UP!”

The magic roared out of her of its own volition, borne by a fiery wave of emotion. The wild emerald energy ripped from Applejack’s horn, full bore, and swallowed everything in front of her in annihilating light. The tree, the grove, the garden, and that taunting smile, all vanished in an arcane inferno that left only ash and embers behind.

As the magic died on her horn, Applejack panted, trembling. Everything in front of her, including a giant swath of the maze itself, lay in ruins. Smoke and fire and scorched earth was all that remained.

“Oh dear me,” cackled the voice in her ear. “Was it something I said?”

Applejack sprang away, only to be confront by… nothing. She was alone in the torched garden.

“Go ahead, my dear. Keep running from me. Keep fighting! It only pulls us closer. And when the final hour comes, oh don’t you fret.”

A crunch of gravel caught Applejack’s attention. She spun around, horn sparking.

A pair of empty amber eyes gazed back at her under a wild, fiery mane. The towering figure stared at her without emotion, without care.

“There won’t be enough left of you to care about all that. And there won’t be a thing you, your friends, or that wretched pegasus can do to stop it. And then, think of all the FUN we'll have!”

Applejack backed away from the towering mirror image, heart thundering in her chest. The monster stalked closer, expression deadened. Only an empty hunger dwelled in those eyes, and the sight of it disturbed her like nothing had before.

She kept backing up, and it kept following her, until she ran out of open ground to back up on. The hedge pushed against her, black brambles pricking and scratching her hide painfully. Still the twisted version of herself moved on her. And as it drew closer, it’s fanged maw fell open. Lips curled up, a sickly glow emanating from her mouth and horn.

With a sound of rushing wind, the ground split open. Auroral green and pink light erupted skyward, cleaving the garden in two, barring the monster’s path.

For the first time, its expression changed. It twisted up in unbridled fury, eyes burning with rage. “Not again, you wretch! How many times are you going to interfere!?”

The sound of cracking branches caught Applejack’s attention. She turned, just as the hedges ripped themselves open. Vibrant green vines held the way open, even as black brambles fought to crush the gap out of existence.

Hurry…!

Applejack didn’t need to be told twice. She turned and bolted, just making it through the opening before the hedge slammed shut behind her, drowning out the raging scream of her pursuer.


~~***~~


A red sun sat perched just on the horizon, preparing itself for another night. As it dipped lower and lower, birds and animals of all stripes and colors began to settle in for the night… only to be disturbed by a deafening explosion of sound echoing across the heavens.

Eyes turned to the sky, shooting looks of irritation and trepidation. None were quick enough to actually spot the perpetrator; only the prismatic streak she left in her wake, one that pointed towards the distant silhouette of Canterlot.
	
> Chapter 18: Heartbreak, Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“I hate you.”

Feigning perfect innocence, Rainbow Blaze looked up from his newspaper with a mildly hurt look on his face. At the same time, Firefly dropped onto the couch next to him in a huff and gave him an angry glare.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“Oh you know darn well what you did,” Firefly snapped at him. She folded her hooves across her chest. “The only reason I’m not tanning our stupid daughter’s hide right now is because you butted in.”

Blaze thought about it for a moment, then went back to reading his paper. “Well, it seemed like the two of you could use some time away from each other.” He then glanced over the rim of his paper. “By the way, are you feeling better now?”

“Of course!” Firefly snapped. “And don’t you give me that stupid cute grin! Ugh, that lousy good for nothing…! You should’ve just let me pound some sense into her.”

Pursing his lips behind his paper, Blaze gave her a level look. “You and I both know that wouldn’t have solved anything. Dash is a grown mare now, honey. You can’t just put her over your knee whenever she misbehaves.”

Firefly huffed derisively. “Watch me. And besides, weren’t you the one who grounded her in the first place?”

“Point taken,” Blaze said with an easy smile, “but we both know that was meant to calm you down more than her.” He shot her a sly glance. “Otherwise you’d both still be trying to throttle one another. And I’ve had a year or two to figure out my audience.”

Firefly let out an annoyed sound and threw her head back on the couch. “Ugh! If she wants me to treat her like somepony half her age, she’d better start acting the part.”

“Now you’re just being petty,” Blaze said with a slight note of disapproval. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to admit that she isn’t our little rascal filly anymore.”

Firefly just batted a dismissive hoof at him without looking his way, causing her husband’s mouth to purse. “Firefly, Dash has been all over the country. Hay, I’m pretty sure she’s saved it on a couple of occasions with those friends of hers. One of these days you’re going to wake up and see how much she’s grown up. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even see how much she takes after you.”

Firefly’s head snapped up off the backrest, and she turned to give him a hard look. “That’s what scares me, Blaze! I don’t want her growing up to be like me! Do you have any idea how reckless and stupid I was?! I was a troublemaker, a punk, a hotheaded nag with something to prove! Sure it was awesome then, but looking back on it, I’d never want somepony else to pull the same ridiculous stunts I did. It’s a wonder I didn’t get myself killed! No mother wants to see their daughter put their life on the line for kicks! If I could, I’d go back and smack myself up the head so hard!”

Firefly leaned forward. She looked tired and mad, all at the same time. “I don’t want Rainbow making the same stupid, featherbrained mistakes I did. Is that too much to ask for? I just… I wish I knew where I went wrong with her.”

Blaze studied her out of the corner of his eye. Then, with a sigh, he set his paper aside and scooted a little closer. Firefly responded to his unspoken invitation by leaning against his shoulder.

“This didn’t used to bother you so much,” he noted. “Time was you’d let Rainbow run halfway around the world with her friends with only a little concern. Now you barely let her out of your eyesight.”

Firefly scowled at nothing in particular.

“Does it have something to do with that friend of hers?” Blaze inquired.

Firefly’s frown worsened, her thoughts her own. Then…

“She got herself so hurt that night. Burns, broken bones, lost feathers… Yet she was just the same as ever. Not a worry in the world. The scary thing is, if it’s for that mare, I know she’d do it again in a heartbeat, too. I… suppose that made it a little too real for me.”

Firefly glanced out a nearby window towards the horizon, a deeply worried look on her face. “I’m not gonna say that Applejack is trouble, but it sure follows her around. I just… I’m worried, okay? I’m worried that that mare is gonna drag Rainbow down a path she can’t come back from… And there won’t be anything I can do to stop it.”

Blaze studied his wife in silence for a time, then set his head on top of hers. “I know, ‘Fly. I know. Times were we could solve all of this with a few stern words and a bedtime without dinner. But she’s way beyond that now. Whatever call Rainbow makes, it’s out of our hooves as parents.”

“… I get the feeling that you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not really working.”

Blaze chuckled and stroked her mane. “Okay, then how about this? Even if we can’t stop her, she is still our daughter. If there is any pony out there cut out for being reckless and headstrong, it’s our little girl.”

“Still not helping.”

Again he chuckled, but this time he didn’t follow up. For a while, they were quiet, both lost in thought for a time. Until Firefly spoke up again, that is.

“You know she’s gone, right?” Firefly pointed out.

“Of course. She is our daughter, after all.”


~~***~~


The peace of the still evening air was shattered spectacularly behind Rainbow’s racing form. She pushed herself as fast as she could go, and then faster still.

Normally, moving at such speeds brought a wide range of emotions coursing through her body. Wild exhilaration, fluttering terror, and the glorious rush of adrenaline. Normally she thrilled in the breakneck pace, all the while balancing on the knife’s edge between control and flat out disaster.

Today, she wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

No matter how fast she went, no matter how much she outran sound and pressed harder and harder against that invisible wall of unyielding pressure typically referred to as air, it wasn’t enough. Trees whizzed by below at dizzying speeds. Clouds were just white, formless streaks in her peripheral vision. Whole mountains were smudges of shadows, only semi-solid in appearance. But it wasn’t fast enough! Canterlot was still out there – as in, not beneath her – and that was totally unacceptable! Applejack was still far, far out of reach.

Some voice in the back of Rainbow’s mind tried to tell her that there really wasn’t any need to rush. After all, Applejack was in the middle of Canterlot, probably languishing away in utter boredom under the watchful eye of the Royal Sisters and Twilight. There really shouldn’t be any call for concern, truth be told.

But that was not good enough for her. Something tugged at her gut, an urgency she didn’t like. There was no explaining it, nor her sense of pure restlessness. Something just didn’t feel right.

Rainbow kept her eyes fixated on the distant shape of the Canterhorn. It was growing closer, but soooo slowly! Sure, she was making a trip that normally took a train several hours in a fraction of the time, but her impatience did not allow her to appreciate that fact. She just piled on the speed, and didn’t look back.

If she wasn’t so single-mindedly focused, she might have noticed the periodic flashes of emerald fire through the trees below trying to keep pace with her.

Again, two figured were thrown clear of a burning hole in the ground, and again, two figures glanced up towards the sky.

“Dios mio,” Cassava panted, “that pegasus can move! Of all the times for somepony’s reputation to not be exaggerated…”

He lit his horn, and the two fell through a new hole that snapped shut behind them. A fraction of a second later, they reappeared hundreds of yards ahead, atop a small rocky outcropping.

Despite the impressive distance, they were still only just keeping pace with the speedy pegasus. If anything, they were starting to fall behind.

“Do you think something happened?” asked Agave, who was hanging on to Cassava’s chest. Again they plummeted, and again they were flung into the open air in the distance.

“Don’t see how she’d know about it,” Cassava commented, but there was a speculative look in his eye. “She sure is impatient, though. And here I had this whole plan to crash her place… Her reaction would have been so priceless…”

Plummet, fling.

Agave watched the rainbow contrail with a small frown of apprehension. “I’ve never seen her move this fast. Are you sure there’s no way she could’ve heard about something?”

Plummet, fling.

“Unless she’s psychic,” Cassava commented with a small laugh. “Or…”

Plummet, fling.

“Or?”

Cassava hesitated. For once, his cheery façade seemed to dull as a thought occurred to him. “Oooooh boy,” Cassava breathed under his breath.

Plummet, fling.

Agave glanced up at him questioningly. “What?”

“Well… it could be she’s psychic,” Cassava said.

Plummet, fling.

“You… already said that,” Agave said slowly.

Cassava didn’t reply. For once, his expression was oddly mute as he studied the shrinking shape of their target.

Down they went into another burrow and into squeezing darkness. Then, back out into the open air again. Except this time, Cassava’s hooves tightened around his charge. His horn did not come alight; instead, in a brilliant flash of fire, Cassava the pegasus spread his wings and darted into the sky.

“Cassava, what are you doing?” Agave asked, a little worried now. She’d known Cassava most of her life; he’d been tending to her since she’d hatched, actually. So she understood that he did not just change a plan unless something forces him to.

Cassava stayed focused on the distant glitter of towers and shining arcane fields that was their destination, his thoughts as mercurial as ever. He didn’t seem to be focused on catching Rainbow anymore. Instead, he seemed more intent on beating her to her destination.

After a moment, he spoke again, his voice empty of his usual humor, and so low it could have only been meant for himself. “This just got a whole lot more complicated…”

In a flash, his usual demeanor snapped back into place. He grinned down at a worried Agave, just as daring as ever. “Hold on, señorita. It appears you’ll be getting that adventure after all.”


~~***~~


Stationed in front of a locked-down district of towering trees, two armor-clad guards stood on either side of a barricade. The day had been long, and for the most part, uneventful. Not counting a little ruckus sparked by the Captain of the Guard, of course, but by and large the two had had virtually nothing to do all day.

That had all changed for no explicable reason a few minutes earlier.

A rustle in the leaves overhead drew both of their eyes upward, but they did not tense. They just watched as a little black shape extricated itself almost sheepishly from the brush a respectable distance away, and shyly shuffled towards them.

“Go home, changeling,” one of the guards barked. “The lockdown is still in effect. Go on, shoo.”

But the drone didn’t back away, not entirely. She started to, tail between her legs, only to slow to a halt two paces later and turn back. Just by looking at her, the two guards could tell she was trying to muster every ounce of courage she possessed.

“P-please, officers. Can I please just… just look for Queen Applejack a teensy little bit? I promise no one will find out.”

One of the guards – a fellow who’d been up too long and through too much to rally perfect tact – barely restrained a sigh. “For the last time, you lot, no one is allowed to leave the district, not while enemy elements exist in Equestria that could be mistaken for you and vice versa. You’re all safer in there while we do our jobs.”

“I-I know,” the drone squeaked, “but, but… I-I have a really bad feeling. A-Applejack… Applejack needs our help. C-can I please…?”

“Like I told the last twenty changelings to use that exact same excuse, no means no,” the guard said firmly. “Now go home. We’ll let you know when the lockdown is lifted.”

The drone backed away, still looking reluctant, then darted into a nearby bush.

Both guards exchanged an exasperated look, now that the coast was clear. “What’s gotten into this lot all of a sudden? Well behaved all day, not so much as a peep out of them, and now this?”

The other guard shook his head. “Don’t know what to make of it, either. But if Steel Shod catches wind of it, in the state he’s in, he’ll have a cow.”

Both shared a look. They’d been through enough drama for one day, and their superior was in a bad enough mood as it was. Whatever is going on with these changelings, neither was foolish enough to get their foul-tempered boss involved.

“Just keep a lid on it,” one said to the other. “I’m sure they’re just anxious. They usually get restless whenever that queen of theirs isn’t home, from what I’ve seen.”

“Like a bunch of lost puppies, they are,” the other grumbled. “Least they could do is come up with an original excuse for bothering us…”

His partner grunted in agreement, but privately he was thoughtful. Changelings being uncreative… That’d be a first.

Further conversation was cut off when another rustling branch heralded the approach of yet another drone, much to their exasperation… and mild concern.


~~***~~


Roseluck paced her office at a decent clip.

Restlessness tore at her. Periodically she’d force herself to sit down, only to fidget and wriggle without end until finally jumping to her hooves and starting around the room again.

Something was wrong. She could feel it down in her bones, as deep down as a sensation could get. Something was very, very wrong.

The office felt stifling. She didn’t want to be there, like all of a sudden the walls were pressing down on her and she’d developed the worst case of claustrophobia.

After ten minutes of pacing and agitation, she couldn’t take it anymore. She kicked open the door to her office and departed as swiftly as she could.

As she strode quickly down the hall, she couldn’t help but notice the other changelings in the building. Not one of them was sitting still, but none seemed to be able to commit to an action. They shuffled about, only looking up to throw her a look as she passed before withdrawing again.

Something was very wrong.

Outside, the district air hummed with barely repressed agitation. Wings chirped and trilled and buzzed, giving voice to the rising tension filling the streets. A little ways away, Bumblebee was pacing round and round, head down while nibbling on her lip.

Roseluck paused in front of the Vivarium, her eyes skyward. She looked around, chest tight. “What… what is this feeling?” she murmured.

“So, it’s finally started.”

Roseluck jumped halfway out of her skin at the sound of the dry, raspy voice coming from beside her. She spun, and found wizened old Nana Widow sitting in a rocking chair of unknown origin. Her hooves were placed neatly in her lap, and her sunken, half-blind eyes were turned towards the heavens. It was hard to tell if she was pursing her lips, or if they were just normally so puckered.

Nana sighed, sounding resigned for some reason. Her usual smile was nowhere to be found and even though her eyes were just as milky as ever, there was a strange sense of alertness to them. “The queen has begun her summons. Her will calls the hive to order.”

Roseluck’s eyes grew huge. A quaver ran through her, one she didn’t understand. “You mean, Applejack is…?”

Nana nodded, seemingly to herself. “It was this way on the day Carnation was Coronated. Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday…”

Nana started patting one hoof against the other slowly, rhythmically, purposefully, like the slow and steady beat of a drum. Roseluck frowned at her hooves, but as she watched, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

Whenever Nana patted her hoof, a drone would pace faster for a moment. When next she did it, a drone would take to the air and shoot up into the trees. When she did it next, Bumblebee jolted forward just a little faster.

All across the square, drones were reacting in time with Nana’s beat, and each time they did, their agitation rose another iota. 

Roseluck could feel it in herself. She constantly shifted, unable to sit still, and every beat of Nana’s hooves marked the urge to shift again.

“Applejack is drawing her subjects to her,” Nana said then, her voice stronger than it had been for years. “She is establishing her hive. There can be no doubt. Her Coronation is at hoof.”

Nana looked up high in the sky, and smiled. “Her mother would be so proud of her.”


~~***~~


This way…!

Applejack rushed after the darting light – her only source of light in the oppressive hedge maze. She ran as fast as she could, for fear of being left behind. That was the absolute last thing she wanted.

Behind her, queer sounds issued. Branches cracked and groaned. Unknowable calls echoed through the bramble. And it always kept pace with her, never falling behind. She didn’t dare glance over her shoulder, for fear of what she might see quietly giving chase. 

Up ahead, the mote of light darted around another corner, and Applejack was right behind it in an instant. She flew around the corner, and promptly slipped on a splatter of black ooze. She nearly fell, and almost skidded off the trail entirely and into an awaiting crevice under the nearby hedge, vines grasping at her ankles. But she corrected almost right away, and sped off again. She threw the death trap one more look, turned around – and ran nose-first into a door.

With a yelp she bounced off and onto her rump. She rubbed her nose, then glanced up at the obstruction.

A door and part of a wall sat smack dab in the middle of the corridor of vegetation. It obviously had not been built there; the wall’s edges were ragged with exposed timber and drywall, like it’d been crudely carved from a hallway and dropped unceremoniously where it now stood.

Applejack recognized the wallpaper flanking the door; it matched the walls of Cadance’s manor. The door was open just a little, perhaps from Applejacks’ headbutt; she wasn’t in the mood to speculate, however.

The sounds behind her were growing louder, closer. Amidst them, she could have sworn she heard a velvety voice humming a foalish tune. 

Applejack jumped to her hooves, and without turning around, shouldered the door out of her way. More than a small part of her hoped that maybe this was an exit to whatever nightmare she’d fallen headfirst into.

Of course there was no such luck. 

Applejack found herself tumbling into a familiar bedroom. Only, not exactly the way she’d left it. Instead of being empty, Cadance’s room was filled with furniture; an impressive dresser and armoire, a huge four-poster bed and two ceiling-tall bookshelves crammed full of all manner of books.

The window across from Applejack was filled with dim moonlight, so at first Applejack thought the room was deserted.

She paced forward, eyes darting around and senses keyed for any further attacks. But for the time being, nothing was out of place. No black tar, no cackling monster, nothing… at least, so far.

Applejack made it halfway across the room when a sound caught her attention. Instantly she was on guard, ready for a fight. But the sound had been so small, too small for her to track immediately.

But then it happened again; a small sniffle coming from the direction of the bed. There, silhouetted by a thin ray of moonlight, was a filly-sized version of Cadance. She laid curled up on the bed in a little ball, and periodically she trembled with another sniffle.

I didn’t understand… 

Applejack jumped and glanced around. But that voice had not been her sinister tormentor; this one was undoubtedly Cadance. If issued from nowhere and everywhere, filling Applejack’s head as if she was speaking right into her ear.

When she took it, after promising not to, Father was so mad… And when she didn’t come back, I thought…

Her voice came and went, sometimes strong, only to dwindle to nothing again.

She’d been my only friend… my only true friend… One who didn’t care about who my parents, or grandparents, or great grandparents were. She didn’t care about my family’s fortune, or influence, or anything. But she still did such an awful thing to me… I did not understand…

Applejack was so intent on the miserable shape of Cadance that she jumped when a floorboard creaked off to her right. Cadance did as well; she jumped, and her head snapped up. She looked terrible; all puffy red eyes and tear streaks. Almost immediately, she zeroed in on the culprit, virtually as the same time Applejack did.

From the shadows, a towering black shape emerged. She appeared seemingly out of thin air, her head held low, low enough to allow her crimson mane to drag across the carpet.

“Cadance…” murmured Carnation. Her voice was quiet, careful.

Cadance took one look at her, eyes huge, then turned away. “Go away!” she shouted at the opposite wall. “You’re not my friend anymore!”

Cadance didn’t see the look that crossed Carnation’s face, but Applejack did. It was one of pain – genuine pain, like Cadance’s words had been a punch to the gut.

“Cadance, please…”

“Don’t call me that! Only my friends call me that!”

“… Cadance…”

The little filly suddenly jumped up, grabbed the biggest pillow she could and threw it across the room. It struck Carnation square in the face, hard enough to pull her to a stop.

“Daddy was so mad at me!” Cadance shouted at her. “You promised! You promised you’d only look a little! You LIED to me!”

Cadance was on her hooves. She shook from head to hoof and glared a fiery glare at the changeling queen, completely unfazed by the sheer size difference between them. Her little wings were flared open in a threatening display, which might have actually been threatening if she wasn't so small.

I didn’t want to know her reasoning. I just wanted her gone. I… I didn’t care.

“Just leave me alone!” Cadance screamed at her. 

But Carnation didn’t move. She stood in the same spot, sad eyes turned towards Cadance. She didn’t’ speak, or do anything at all. She just stood there.

Cadance’s anger only grew the longer she stood in place. “I said…!” She started. At the same time, she reached to the end table beside her bed – towards a ceramic vase filled with sunflowers.

Applejack’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Cadance heft her projectile, and launch it across the room.

“GET OUT!”

Carnation could have dodged it. She had plenty of forewarning. But she didn’t move, not until the solid vase crashed into her face and shattered into a dozen pieces.

Applejack had been halfway through intercepting the projectile, but it was too late. She heard the earsplitting smashing sound, and when she turned, she found her mother lying in a heap on the floor. Sunflowers, spilt water and shards of ceramic laid scattered across the floor, a piece of which rolled between Applejack’s stunned hooves before coming to a rest.

Cadance panted, emotions running wild. But as the seconds ticked by, and Carnation stayed down, her fury started to be replaced with something else.

“Carnation?” she said, her voice small. “C-Carnation?”

At the second sound of her name, the changeling queen groaned.

A gasp escaped Cadance’s lips. She was off her bed in an instant, and she rushed to the crumpled shape on the floor.

By the time she reached her, Carnation was righting herself. A few drops of something dark dripped from her cheek to the carpet, and she held one of her eyes shut.

Cadance drew to a stop in front of her, breathless. She watched the woozy queen sway, unsteady, but she stayed upright. “Wh… Why?” she breathed. “Why did you let me do that?”

Carnation raised her head. Emerald light danced across the many cuts on her face and glowed from under her closed eyelid, which was starting to turn purple. “I am not too proud to admit that I deserved that,” she murmured.

Cadance’s eyes grew huge, but not nearly as big as when Carnation reached out and pulled her against her chest. “I am sorry, Cadance,” Carnation said. “I am so, so sorry.”

Cadance didn’t react. She seemed too stunned.

I didn’t want to know her reasons for betraying my trust. But that night… I could tell something had changed in her. She wasn’t the silver-tongued, sympathetic ear she’d been before. She was… something else. I just… wish I knew how, or why…

Carnation moved back, leaving Cadance stunned and motionless. She barely seemed to notice the heavy blue book that was pushed into her chest.

“I believe this belongs to you, my dear,” Carnation said.

Cadance looked down at the thing in her hooves with an uncomprehending look in her eyes. 

“Keep it safe for me,” Carnation told her. “There may come a day when somepony else comes looking for it. Somepony who would find it just as important as I have.”

Cadance blinked up at her. “It’s… just an old history book,” she mumbled.

Carnation smiled. She reached up, and she wiped away a trace of Cadance’s tears from one cheek. “Perhaps. But to me, it was the most important discovery of my life.”

Cadance cocked her head. “Really?”

Carnation nodded with a soft smile. “I never lied to you, Cadance. I have been searching for a way to solve a very important problem.”

She raised a hoof, and very gently placed it on the book she’d just given Cadance. She pushed it down, onto the floor, and with a flick of her horn, pried it open.

“It is an issue I was starting to suspect could never be resolved. One that has plagued my people for millennia.”

Applejack leaned forward on the tips of her hooves, trying to catch a glimpse of the book. Pages were flying in a flurry, too fast to make sense of any of them.

“But thanks to you, I now know. And thanks to you, we have a chance to fix what was broken long ago.”

The pages stopped flipping. The last one hung in the air for a moment, then fell into place. Carnation’s hoof came down on the exposed page, somewhere just passed the halfway point of the book. And with it, she gestured towards a sketching.

Applejack’s eyes grew huge, her breath catching. Underneath Carnation’s hoof was a drawing of the Crystal Heart.

Applejack looked up at Carnation, feeling stunned. “That’s what y’all were after,” she breathed. “But… the Crystal Empire was gone. Y’all couldn’t use the Crystal Heart. How in tarnation…?”

Are you satisfied?

The sound of wood creaking caused Applejack to snap her head around.

The door to Cadance’s bedroom was bulging inward. The polished wood cracked and split, and out of the rupture gushed a viscous black tar. The cracks spread across the walls, floor and ceiling, growing with alarming speed and tainting the room with an ever darkening black stain.

Because I am growing tired of this little game. I have been very, VERY patient, but that stops now!

Applejack backed away. She glanced around, looking for an escape, but that was the only door in and out. There was only the window, and the nebulous nothing beyond it. The images of Cadance and her mother were gone. She was alone in the room, her back to a corner – figuratively and almost literally. She was trapped.

The doorknob rattled and jiggled frantically, but it stayed firmly shut. The door, however, had bowed out so much that it was starting to gush black tar through its frame. How it hadn’t buckled and snapped in half was anyone’s guess.

The tar gushing into the room was starting to take forms. Not just one, but dozens; little black nightmares devoid of feature, besides slavering maws.

Mine…

The door split. The walls cracked and fractured. Fissures split open across the carpet now, oozing with black goo.

Mine!

A curtain of black ooze gushed over the door from its top. And with a sick bubbling sound, it dissolved entirely. It was barely out of the way before a towering figure as tall as the ceiling stormed in, impatient and furious. Through the growing shadows, all Applejack made of it was it’s impossibly huge maw and glinting fangs. 

YOU ARE ALL MINE!

Without any warning, white fire was everywhere. It howled like a high wind, and suddenly it carved a path through the room, splitting Applejack’s half off from the corrupted portion like a scalpel. The wall of blinding iridescent flame rose between them, floor to ceiling.

The monster let out a nerve-rattling shriek of anger.

Applejack backed away, shielding her eyes against the blazing light. The darkness pressed oppressively against the searing light, which surged and drove it back. Claws raked at the flames, only to disintegrate into black clouds of nothingness. 

Squinting around a raised hoof, Applejack peered at the dancing flames, trying to make sense of them. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that they weren’t white, but made up of softer hues. Pinks, greens, blues, reds, all nearly lost in the dazzling conflagration that held the monsters at bay.

And in the blaze, a shape of pure light stood. She could barely make it out through the light and flickering flames, but she knew something was there, standing between her and the darkness.

Run!

A terrible form was rising on the other side of the fire. It leaned against the flames, and like a high wind, they bent under it.

Applejack backed up further, eyes fixed on the monolithic creature crowding the other side of the room. She was so fixated that when her hind leg fell through open air, she yelped and stumbled.

Whipping around, she felt the color drain from her face. Where the back wall had been, there was nothing but a harrowing drop into swirling clouds without any sign of a bottom in sight. Applejack was quick to pull herself back up and step away from the ledge, only to remember that that was not the only threat she faced.

The brilliant flames were guttering now. Black fractures were worming their way past it, and were starting to snake towards Applejack again. The form in the fire was buckling as the shadows grew deeper.

Applejack gritted her teeth, and with her heart hammering in her chest, she cast a look over her shoulder, in the only other direction that wasn’t falling apart under corruption.

“Come now, my dear, surely by now you must know how this will end. Why fight it?”

Applejack turned back around. The monster was pressing up against the fire, which was alarmingly starting to bend around it, as if threatening to part. It was so close to the dwindling light that she could see its hideous, gelatinous form that barely resembled a pony at all, if a pony stood so tall it had to hunch under a ceiling and had teeth fit for a manticore.

“Ah, such a feisty young soul,” it cackled. “Oh, you and I are going to do great things together.” 

Applejack stared the monster down, but inside, her heart was racing. “Ah ain’t lettin’ ya win, whatever ya are,” Applejack declared. “Ah don’t know how ya got me here, but Ah’m gettin’ out, one way or another.”

The black creature leaned its head forward. It was crossing the boundary now, bit by bit. “Oh, aren’t you precious, thinking you have a say in the matter. I would tell you to never change, but, well…” the sinister chuckle that followed sent a chill up Applejack’s spine.

“Now then, I have let your mother’s little message play itself out. I let you find what you wanted to find. I have been VERY patient with you. Now it’s time you repay the favor!”

It was straining against the wall of light, and to Applejack’s dismay, it was making progress. Here and there, the warding flames were sputtering out, and darkness was quick to snuff out whatever embers might remain.

The monster grinned wide as it approached. “Time’s up, Your Highness.”

The fire went out completely.

In an instant, a black wave surged forward, racing towards Applejack, the monster at its front. Applejack had nowhere else to go. All she could do was grit her teeth, turn, and throw herself into oblivion, and hope that, somehow, whatever awaited her wouldn’t be any worse than what was chasing her down.


~~***~~


Rainbow hissed, and nearly lost control. Confused, she reached down and clutched at her chest, right where it felt like she’d just been punched.

“What the…?”

She pulled her hoof away, but nothing was out of place. But that feeling…

She looked back up, her scowl deepening. Below, a bridge topped by train tracks was vanishing behind her. Down the tracks, closer now, a dome of pink light grew even closer, faster and faster as she closed in.

A barrier… that could complicate matters. But Rainbow wasn’t about to slow down. Nothing was going to stop her from getting into Canterlot, not even some fancy, glorified soap bubble.

The train station was coming into sight. She could just see the glimmer off the armor of several Royal Guards, some of whom were close enough for her to see turn in her direction.

She wasn’t about to slow down. If anything, she forced herself still faster, until her eyes watered and cheeks rippled and the world became one big, incomprehensible blur. Either she was getting through that barrier, or this was going to be one of the most painful experiences of her life, if not the last one.

All she could see was the wall of humming light in front of her now, and it was closing very fast. With seconds to spare, she lowered her head, threw out her shoulder, and…

… Nothing happened.

Rainbow stayed braced for a few extra moments, not sure if maybe she’d misjudged her speed and would be smacking into it any second now. Then, she cracked open her eye, and found the city of Canterlot whistling by beneath her.

Surprised, she slowed, then glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, the barrier was just as whole as ever, and hummed rather ominously. As it turned out, anti-changeling barriers were only really effective on changelings. Funny how that works out.

Rainbow frowned at it, perplexed. Then, she shrugged, turned back around, and shot off across the sky again.

For a moment, her gaze turned towards Canterlot Castle. If Applejack was any place, it would be there.

So… why was her attention turning elsewhere? Even in the heat of the moment, Rainbow couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled when her eyes were tugged towards the castle’s shadow.

The castle suddenly felt like the most unlikely place in the world for her to find Applejack. No, she was down there, down in the snootiest of snooty neighborhoods just visible on the edge of town. Her gut was dead certain of it. Applejack was down there, and she needed her.

Rainbow’s brow knit together – partly in confusion, mostly in concentration – and she veered off on her new course. For her gut’s sake, it better be right about this… And Applejack better be alright when she found her.


~~***~~


With a groan, Applejack stirred. She didn’t remember landing, only falling into blackness, then rousing.

The air around her was cold, and utterly still. Not a whisper of wind move around her. The ground underneath her was hard and uneven, like rock. And her surroundings were so dark…

Applejack cracked opened her eyes and looked around. Only gloom surrounded her. Quiet, still gloom. The only thing she confirmed was that, to her dismay, she was still in this horrible nightmare.

With another groan, she picked herself up. She wobbled slightly, but steadied after a moment. Peering through the gloom, she tried to find a way forward, or at the least a way out. At any moment, she half expected that monster to jump her, but it was absent, thankfully.

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. With no other options, she set off, all the while sweeping her eyes warily from side to side and her ears swiveling in every direction, keyed for the faintest sounds.

On and on she walked. For nearly ten minutes, only the dull thud of her hooves on stone met her ears. In the half-light, only swirling haze met her eyes. She wasn’t going up, or down; just forward.

She was just starting to think that she’d be walking forever when something finally caught her eye. Off to her right, a glimmer of white light – faint as a spark – issued through the oppressive haze.

She turned towards it immediately, and when it persisted, she carefully approached, on guard for the first sign of trouble. Slowly but surely, the source of light grew brighter, until she found herself almost nose-to-nose with it.

Hanging in the air was the tiniest mote of white light, hardly bigger than a dust particle. The warm light was so feeble now, and it flickered weakly in the gloom. Applejack reached out a hoof, and the mote settled upon its surface… and went out. When it did, the air around her felt somehow colder than before.

A squeal of sound behind her made her jump. Instantly she whirled around, ready for a fight.

Behind her, an entire scene had manifested out of thin air. It seemed so very out of place, like it had been carved from whatever setting it was supposed to belong to and dropped awkwardly onto the flat plain behind her.

Where once there’d been nothing, a bed of stone now stood. Its four columns rose high into the air, and were wrapped by flowering vines that gave off a faint, nostalgic aroma.

And on the bed of moss and lichen was her mother. She sat with regal poise, eyes closed in concentration. Her horn was ignited, green flames licking up its entire length. In front of her, revolving on eye level, was a small crown topped with brilliant rubies. As the crown slowly spun, Applejack noticed it quiver slightly, as if it was resisting the emerald aura clamped down around it.

Applejack looked at the scene with a frown. “What in tarnation…?”

Then the sound that first caught her attention happened again. And it hadn’t come from Carnation.

Lying on the bed in front of her mother was a mess of green shards. And in their midst, a tiny, soaked hatchling was flailing slightly. And again, the newly born baby Applejack wailed, kicking about in the remains of her eggshell.

Carnation didn’t seem to notice. Her brow pinched together, her concentration redoubling. She grunted with exertion, beads of sweating forming across her brow.

Her crown shook violently, rattled… and exploded apart.

Applejack’s eyes grew huge with shock as, without warning, emerald fire roared outward in every direction. It swirled in a nova all around them, tongues licking at vines and flowers but not wilting them. Flames kissed the newborn hatchling, but did not dry her.

Applejack shielded her eyes against the glare, and as she adjusted to the sudden brightness, she started to make out a shape at the heart of the firestorm.

Directly where Carnation’s crown had once been floating was a tangerine-sized orb. Despite being swathed in brilliant flames, it was as black and lightless as the deepest shadow, like a sunspot amid the roiling furnace of a star’s surface. 

Applejack’s eyes grew huge. “That… is that a Corastone?” she mumbled to herself. But it was so small… almost half the size of the other one she’d seen.

She didn’t get an answer. The scene continued to play out, ignorant of her question.

Carnation’s expression twisted up even further. She bared her fangs with the sheer exertion of her spell. Her breath came out in ragged gasps. Her eyes pinched shut even tighter. The fires erupting from the Corastone grew more intense. On the bed, the baby Applejack was wailing even louder, and continuously now.

“Almost… almost… have it…,” Carnation panted to herself. “Al….most…!”

Crack!

Carnation’s eyes shot open at the sound. A fracture had appeared across the surface of the Corastone, splitting it right down the middle.

“Al…Almost…!”

Her horn surged brighter. Her shoulders hunched as she threw every ounce of her being into this one, single act. She forced the crack to grow, to spider-web out in every direction across the Corastone’s surface. It grew and grew, spewing fire and lightning, until, with an earsplitting sound, the stone’s surface exploded like glass.

The entire outer shell detonated and flew apart. Whole shards whizzed passed Applejack’s ear, only to pause, and fly backwards, as if time were rewinding.

Carnation gasped, gnashing her teeth as she poured every last drop of magic out of her body. The shards slowed, and eventually came to a stop inches from where they’d all started.

And there, at the center of an orbiting mass of agitated crystal fragments, floated a tarnished, hole-ridden heart-shaped crystal.

It pounded with life, fire erupting with every beat and coursing through the air in every direction. Untempered motes of pink light manifested in the air, only to be sucked in ravenously into the the crystal's surface, never to be seen again. If it were not for the half-dozen holes bored through it, or the acidic green light in gave off, it could have been the splitting image of the Crystal Heart itself.

Carnation panted. Her eyes were starting to unfocus and grow hazy. The sheer force of exposing the Corastone’s heart was taking every bit of strength she possessed.

She took a moment to struggle against the herculean forces being levied against her, then very deliberately, she lowered her horn. As she did, the beating heart crystal descended. It dragged its shattered shell with it as it drifted downwards, towards a crying hatchling.

Applejack’s eyes grew huge. She watched as, to her amazement, a small light started to glow from the little hatchling. She watched as that light grew out of its chest and reached out for the heart-shaped crystal descending towards it.

Tendrils of green changeling magic and ribbons of pure pink light stretched out, like a child reaching for its mother. As it drew closer to the object, Applejack noticed the motes flowing around the heart coalesce. As she watched, magical feelers drifted downward, until the two ends met.

Carnation physically jolted when the two joined. She tensed, as if every single nerve in her body had just been jarred. She gasped, and one hoof flew up to her chest.

Coils of magic and love intertwined, binding child to mother’s heart. And slowly, inexorably, the crystal heart was drawn downward. Applejack watched with rapt attention as Carnation’s Corastone was drawn down, and into her daughter’s chest.

Instantly the fire died. The roaring, howling flames and crackling magical lightning vanished. The shards of crystal ceased to be. Carnation’s crown slammed back together, empty, and fell to the bed. The light faded.

Carnation collapsed in a lifeless heap, landing right beside her daughter. Her eyes were wide open, stretched as far as they could go, pupils shrunk. She breathed in tiny, strangled pants. And as she laid there, petrified, a single tear budded in the corner of one eye, and rolled down her cheek. She gasped, and gasped again, her hoof pressed tightly to her throbbing chest.

Emotions flooded across her face. Overwhelming, overpowering joy that escaped her lips in hushed, breathy laughter; primal terror that cause her to clutch at herself in uncontrollable panic; consuming sadness, that brought her to teary sobs that she could not control. All of these and more rampaged through her, contorting her as they raged through her body.

A distraught cry brought her to her senses.

Applejack watched, transfixed, as Carnation stilled. Her eyes fell on the tiny, flailing shape of her baby and riveted on her. The look on her face was like a blind mare seeing for the very first time, and her eyes beheld the single most incredible sight in all of creation.

Carnation tried to speak, failed, and then reached a shaking hoof out. She wrapped Applejack so gingerly, like she half expected the barest touch to shatter her into a thousand pieces. As Carnation drew the hatchling to her, she reached out with another hoof, across the mess of broken eggshell, and towards a red towel lying on its other side. She claimed it, but only barely. She looked so exhausted…

While the little baby Applejack cried and cried and cried, Carnation weakly swaddled her in the towel, wiping as much of the broken egg shell and dampness from her baby as she could.

“You did it, baby,” she whispered in a weak, quavering tone. “You did it! Just look at you… Ha, you’re so gorgeous! I… I can’t believe it…”

The baby continued to let out distraught wails at the top of its tiny lungs. Carnation gave up on wiping her down, and instead clutched baby Applejack to her chest, safe and sound, and squeezed her gently. Tears of pure, unfiltered joy rolled freely down her cheeks, her smile turning radiant even in her weakened stand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay – ssh, ssh. Mama’s got you…”

At last, the baby quieted. She turned her muzzle inward, and pressed her face up against the warm safety of her mother’s collar. 

Applejack stared at the familiar scene, unable to speak or move. She watched in stunned silence as the two drifted off to sleep, and a moment later, dissolved into darkness. Even then, she continued to stand in place, eyes huge.

“That’s how ya did it,” Applejack said to herself. As she spoke, her hoof lifted, and came to rest against her chest. “Yer Corastone… Yer heart… ya gave it ta me. All this time… Y’all have been right here, with me? Ya started ta feel again… cuz Ah had yer heart, all along.”

She looked down at her hoof, almost expecting to see something in it. But there was nothing; just leathery black chitin. “Is… is that all there is to it?”

The only answer she got was a heavy hoof fall in front of her.

Applejack’s heart jumped, then she turned her gaze up.

“How touching,” the monster simpered as it swaggered closer. No longer did it look like a creature formed of ooze, but instead now it resembled a long-dead cadaver; black chitin was pulled tight over its bony frame, so tight that Applejack could make out every individual bone and vertebrae in its body.

Its eyes were as black as coals, save only for the vertical slits of fiery green light that stayed fixed onto her.

When the monster spoke now, it spoke in a myriad of voices, all of which Applejack knew. Sometimes it was Granny Smith. Other times, Roseluck. Still other times, it used voices she had no name for, but recognized; the countless ponies she’d met and passed in the street across her whole lifetime. Worse of all was when the voices speaking in chorus were those of her close friends.

“So, now you know your mother’s dirty little secret,” it said with a disappointed sigh. “Are you satisfied now?”

Applejack scowled deeper. “Plenty. Now there ain’t no way yer goin’ ta win.”

The monster sighed in defeat. “I suppose you’re right. Oh, the things we could have done together, the atrocities we could have committed… Such a waste of potential.”

She started to turn away, her disturbing eyes lingering almost sadly on Applejack as she did. “And now you know. All you need to do is take your Corastone and give it to somepony who will accept it, and… that’s that. There is absolutely no way I can win now.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes at her, but said nothing.

Meanwhile, the monster turned her back at Applejack, took two steps in the other direction… and paused. “Wait a moment…”

She looked back over her shoulder at Applejack. Only now, she was grinning a huge, malevolent grin, eyes wide with manic glee. “You don’t HAVE a Corastone, DO YOU?!”

Applejack paled.

In an instant, the monster whipped back around, leering ear to ear. “Why yes, that’s right! You don’t! And do you want to know why? Please, ask me why!”

Applejack took a step back, fumbling for answers. As she cast around, she became aware of the weight on her head.

As the monster advanced again, she whipped off her crown and held it out.

“Not so fast, there,” she declared, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “Ah got my crown right here, and if Ah were a bettin’ mare, Ah’d be there’s a Corastone right in here, just like Ma’s.”

That only drew an amused chuckle out of the monster. It didn’t stop stalking towards here. “A nice theory… but wrong.”

Without warning, she thrust her horn at Applejack. At the same time, it came alight with a sickly flame darker and more malevolent than any changeling fire she’d ever seen before.

Before Applejack could jump out of the way, the jet of tainted fire struck her crown, dead center, and a split second later, it shattered into a thousand pieces.

And that was all that happened. No fire, no roaring, no blinding light. The shards burst apart and hovered in place, but where a Corastone should have been, there was nothing.

“Oops,” the monster lamented. “Nothing there. Not yet.”

Applejack took another step back. Desperate, she cast her mind around. Think! There’s gotta be a way out of this!

“Hold up,” Applejack said, suddenly recalling something. “As a matter of fact, Ah do have one of them Corastones!”

The monster paused, and raised a bony eyebrow.

Applejack grinned, her heart pounding a million miles an hour. “That’s right, Ah do. Now Ah’m dang happy somepony mailed that thing ta me, cuz it means—”

“It means NOTHING,” the monster interrupted tersely. “That, dear sweet Applejack, is not your Corastone.”

She leaned in, so close that Applejack cringe back, hurrying back another step or two. “That is my Corastone.”

The bottom of Applejack’s stomach fell out. Her eyes grew huge as a chill ran up her spine. “W-what…?”

The monster grinned maniacally. “And you were so kind to touch it, too! You were the one who let me in! I could have just been a voice in the back of your mind, whispering away as you lost your heart. Now… oh, now, my dear…”

The monster broke down in a fit of barely restrained laughter as she slipped ever closer, unstoppable and inescapable. “I see GREAT things in our future.

Applejack’s skin crawled.

“So, my dear, would you like to know why you don’t have a Corastone? It is really quite simple.”

Applejack opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a hiss of pain. Her skin was prickling uncomfortably, and as she watched helplessly, a tendril of green light issued from her chest, thin as morning mist. It curled through the air, before coalescing into a small mote in front of Applejack’s horrified eyes.

“See? You’re already in the process of making one yourself,” her tormentor cackled. “And your mother was so kind to leave a vessel for you!”

With a flick of her horn, Applejack’s crown snapped shut around the tiny mote, before dropping to the floor.

“Do you see? The only way to receive your Corastone is to lose your heart and be Coronated in the first place ! The only way you can win is for ME to win first!” The monster roared derisively. “Get it now? You CANNOT beat me! It is impossible. In order to win, you have to lose.”

Applejack’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. She tried to get her legs to move, but they felt leaden. Her whole world felt like it’d just upended itself, tossed her about, and left her in a jumbled mess.

There had to be a way out, there had to be. But she couldn’t see it. She could run, run as fast as she could and hope her strength lasted. She could fight, and at least go down swinging. But nothing she thought of seemed to afford her anything better than petulant defiance.

The monster knew that. She could see it in her sneer. She was drawing closer now, and no matter how much Applejack quickened her pace, she could not open up the gap.

“Are you scared?” The monster asked softly. “Don’t you worry. You won’t be for long.”

She lunged, her form exploding in a sheet of oily blackness.

At least Applejack went down swinging.


~~***~~


A look of confusion crossed Rainbow’s features as she flew into sight of the mansion. She recognized it, for some bizarre reason, but she quickly cast it from her mind. She only registered that it clicked in some way, which cemented in her mind that she was on to something… even if she didn’t understand what, or how, or why she was even so fixated on such a place.

As she approached, she slowed down to a glide and started casting her eyes about the property. It was several orders of magnitude too snooty for her taste, and if it was like that for her, she couldn’t imagine what Applejack would be doing in such a place at all.

Think, Dash, think… why does this place look so fami—hey, is that Twilight?

She was just starting her loop over the back yard – a monstrous thing the size of a park, really – when she caught sight of the familiar lavender hue below. When she locked onto it, she noticed that – sure enough – Twilight Sparkle was standing down below, staring at a water fountain for… some reason. Egghead reasons, probably. But she was alone, and that dispelled almost all of the relief Rainbow had started to feel.

Still, Rainbow trimmed her wings and dropped altitude. “Twilight!” she called out as she descended.

The alicorn jumped about a foot in the air, looked around, then up, just as Rainbow slowed to a hover in front of her. She gaped at her, failing several times to say anything before finally figuring out how her mouth worked. “R-Rainbow Dash? What are you… aren’t you supposed to be in Ponyville? How did you…?”

Rainbow was waving her off halfway through her disjointed questions. “No time for that, I’ll explain later. Where’s Applejack?”


~~***~~


A voice groaned in the quiet bedroom. A foreleg dug into the carpet, hard, as a tongue of emerald fire rolled up its length, burning away orange fur…


~~***~~


Twilight was still trying to process how her friend could just suddenly be here in front of her. A great many questions whipped through her head, but not before she said, “Up in Cadance’s old bedroom. Why? What’s this abou—Hey!”

Rainbow had just unexpectedly grabbed her and yanked her off her hooves while heading straight for the house. “Don’t know the way. Take me to her, quick! It’s really important!”

Twilight struggled in her grip. “Calm down, Rainbow! What’s gotten into you?”

Rainbow shook her head quickly. “Don’t know, but I have to find AJ, like, right now!”


~~***~~


Her back hunched. Hind legs flexed all the way back as far as they could go. Her fangs gnashed together as the cracks on her forehead grew longer…


~~***~~


Twilight tried not to roll her eyes. “Okay Rainbow, The two of you have been apart for only a few hours. Don’t you think you’re being a little possessive?”

Rainbow stared down blankly at her. “What? No, this is – look, Applejack’s in trouble, I just know it! Hurry up and show me where she is!”

“Okay, okay,” Twilight complained, “Calm down, geez.  First off, Applejack’s fine. I’ve been keeping track of her all afternoon, and she hasn’t moved from Cadance’s bedroom. Trust me, Rainbow, nothing bad is happening to her.”


~~***~~


Half crouching, half lying, her body flexed and tensed. Agonized groans issued through her clenched teeth as she arched her neck. She buried her face in the carpet as her horn started to fizz and crackle.

Her whole body was tense, every muscle knotted to the breaking point. Something had to give.

Crack…


~~***~~


“No offense, Twi’, But I’ll believe that when I see her,” Rainbow grunted. “Now hurry up already! Time is bits!”

Twilight finally broke free of Rainbow’s grip, shot her an annoyed look, and opened her mouth to chastise her friend’s needless impatience.

The sound of second floor exploding cut her off first.

Both mares spun around as every window on the upper floor corridor shattered on a plume of emerald fire. Glass shards rained down on the garden below, very nearly pelting both of them with a deadly shower of razor sharp shrapnel. Only a quickly conjured barrier kept them from harm.

The glass had barely stopped falling when Rainbow removed her hooves from her head and stared up at the upper floor with wide, dread-filled eyes. “Applejack!” she shouted.

She was gone like a shot, zipping up into the ruined hallway before Twilight could even react. There, she found the corridor in disarray. Sparks of emerald fire danced in the air. Here and there, the molding was starting to catch fire, while fissures split open the floor and walls from the sheer force of the blast.

The door to Cadance’s bedroom had been sheered clean off its hinges and blasted – presumably – right out the window opposite it. 

And beyond the doorframe, an inferno was raging.

The wallpaper, the carpet, everything was catching fire, and it was growing rampantly. Smoke filled the room and gushed into the hall, thick and smothering. But that didn’t stop Rainbow from diving head-first into the burning room. She crawled low, but already she was coughing.

“Applejack!” she called. “Applejack! Where are you?”

Nothing. The flames roared louder in response, but it was the only response she got.

Rainbow shielded her eyes and huddled as low to the ground as she could. “Apple—”

A cry interrupted her.

Through the curtain of smoke and orange flames, a bright pulse of green light burst into being. In the next instant, a wall of pure force slammed into Rainbow, knocking her over onto her backside. The concussive force blasted away the smoke for a moment, and through it, Rainbow could see its source.

Applejack crouched on the carpet as if about to pounce, but her posture was all contorted. Her pony guise was gone, leaving her in her true form.

And from head to foot, cracks were splitting all across her body. With every new series, an intense wave of heat would wash over the room. Her chitin was literally splitting open, leaving gouts of emerald fire wherever they opened up.

Rainbow could just make out Applejack’s face. It was screwed up, her eyes slammed as tightly shut as they could go.

Applejack clawed at the carpet, as if trying to get away from herself, but every time she moved, more of her chitin broke open.

“Applejack…”

Rainbow didn’t mean for it to come out so small and strangled, but when she heard herself, she snapped back to her senses, and the horrible reality in front of her. “Applejack!” she shouted.

This time, her voice got a response.

One of Applejack’s eyes cracked open, and roved to one side until it found her.

For the first time in a very, very long time, something in her eye scared Rainbow. Maybe it was how wide it shot open. Maybe it was how thin her pupil had become. Or maybe it was the intense look that possessed it. Whatever the reason, the look she got did not feel like one from the Applejack she knew.

“R… Rain…,” Applejack grunted, only to let out another cry.

CRACK!

With an ear-splitting sound, Applejack’s horn split once, twice, and exploded apart. As the bits and pieces of black shell hit the ground and disintegrated, Rainbow’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the long, pearly white thing that lay underneath. Already it had a wicked crook near the front, but it was the glossy whiteness of it that disarmed Rainbow the most, so unlike the typical changeling coloration.

As the shell shattered, another blast wave ripped through the room, knocking Rainbow over onto her back.

A section of the roof came down like a burning meteor, crashing right between the two of them.

Rainbow was on her hooves immediately, but she didn’t move. She wasn’t sure what to do! She could barely get close to Applejack, what with the blasts she was emitting and the fire. But the whole room was ablaze now, wall to wall, floor to ceiling. Doubtlessly it was spreading to other parts of the mansion, and the longer Applejack was left here, the more danger she was in.

But what was she supposed to do?!

Rainbow jumped when a hoof grabbed her shoulder. She turned, feeling disoriented, to find Twilight standing beside her. A bubble of light surrounded her, keeping the fire and smoke at bay.

“Rainbow!” Twilight shouted, “Where’s –”

Another shriek, and a lance of fire burst across the room, blasting a hole through a wall. That was when Twilight noticed Applejack.

“Oh no,” she said in a small voice, her eyes growing huge.

“What are we supposed to do?!” Rainbow shouted. “We have to do something!”

More timber from the ceiling thundered to the ground behind them. The floor trembled, and then a section buckled.

Twilight was a fast thinker, but she couldn’t think this fast. The whole mansion was burning down, but there was Applejack – and they had to deal with what she was about to go through – but that had to get her out – but they should’ve had more time – but… but…

“Get… get away…”

Both mares turned towards Applejack when she spoke.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, Applejack forced herself upright. Even as her body tore itself apart, bit by bit, she found it in her to focus her gaze on the duo. “Get… get as far as… as ya… Don’t let m… me…”

She groaned and buckled again… then forced herself to straighten up. Her eyes found Rainbows, and the locked on for dear life.

“Rain… Rainbow…”

Very weakly, through the pain and fire and consuming wrongness, she forced herself to smile ever so slightly. “Come… come save me… ya hear?”

Rainbow’s eyes grew bigger. “AJ, what…?”

Applejack’s head went down again. But this time, as it did, her horn started to crackle… and came to life. It burned brighter and brighter, surging with barely contained force. Sparks of changeling magic started to dance in the air, circulating around her form in waves of fire and lightning.

It was that precise moment that Rainbow realized what she was about to do.

“No… no!” She cried, and tried to lunge forward, to stop it before it could happen, but Twilight caught her. “No! Applejack, stop!”

She didn’t react to her voice. She kept her head bowed as changeling magic crashed together all around her, enveloping her in a crude ball of fire. The roar of the flames reached a grating keen, and with a nerve-wracking screech of shredding reality and a deafening bang, Applejack was gone.

Both mares stared in numb, stunned disbelief at the spot where their friend had once stood. Now, only a crater in the floor remained. A moment later, even that was obscured as the roof caved in on top of it.

“Rainbow, we have to go,” Twilight managed to get out.

Rainbow didn’t move. She was paralyzed, eyes wide mouth frozen open. So, Twilight wrapped a hoof around her midriff, and with a flash of light, the pair disappeared a second before the floor gave way completely.


~~***~~


With a pop, both Twilight and Rainbow reappeared in a burst of smoke and embers back on the front lawn.

Both turned in unison, and beheld the eastern side of the mansion ablaze, with more succumbing to the flames by the second. The sheer heat of it burst windows and wilted grass and hedges under the eaves. For a time, the two just stared at it, unable to process what had just happened. It was Twilight who spoke up first.

“A-Applejack… what did she do? What kind of spell was that? What did she do?!”

Rainbow was slow to answer. She knew what kind of “spell” that had been, and just the thought of it horrified her.

“Did she just teleport?” Twilight continued to question, her voice high and hysterical. “On a spell like that? What was she thinking?!”

“Applejack…”

Twilight turned towards her, beyond worried and even scared. Rainbow was still staring at the fire, unseeing.

“Applejack… just bought us a couple hours.”

Twilight looked at her. Whatever expression she was showing, Rainbow refused to meet it. She looked fairly wretched herself. “Rainbow… this was supposed to be where all the answers were going to be.”

She turned and looked at the conflagration consuming the mansion. Windows stood silhouetted like the eyes of a jack-o-lantern against the fading daylight while the whole roof burned merrily away. And though she couldn’t see it, she could hear the building collapsing inside.

Off in the distance, she could hear sirens. Firefighters were coming, but it wouldn’t be fast enough.

Whatever secret Cadance’s mansion held for them was now forever lost to them. Whatever solution there was to be found there was gone.

They were back at square one, with only a matter of hours left to come up with a solution.
	
> Chapter 19: Hunted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“Get some water on that fire, quick!”

The fire brigade sergeant’s orders were muffled by the roar of rising flames happily consuming a historic mansion, top to bottom. Even as the firefighters moved into position, a section of masonry cracked and collapsed. Ponies scattered as the wall came down and sent a burst of red-hot rubble across the lawn. Instantly the firefighters were back in position, serpentine hoses at the ready, and resumed their duel with the hearty inferno.

Twilight sat a few yards away from the action. She felt too numb to offer any sort of assistance; any spell that might possibly have helped save one of her fillyhood landmarks escaped her. She was deaf to the murmuring voices behind her; curious residents of neighboring estates come to see what all the fuss was about.

A line of Royal Guards stood in their way. While the aristocratic ponies were hardly difficult to contain, each and every one of them were keeping their eyes out for the real threat; the arrival of the paparazzi. 

Twilight looked over her shoulder at them, and in the flickering orange glow of the fire, she could see their worried, even scared expressions. Mares in expensive fineries glanced between their closest partners. Husbands pulled their wives closer automatically. Foals hid behind their parents’ hooves. All of their eyes shined with the brilliant glare of the fire.

“Watch out! It’s coming down!”

Twilight spun around as an earsplitting crack rent the air. She looked up as the columns holding up the front of the house cracked and buckled. The whole entryway sagged with an audible groan, fire gushing from open windows like ports in a hellish furnace. Then, it toppled, mortar splintering and stone fracturing, towards all those looking on.

A flash of golden light momentarily drowned out even the glare of the fire. Everypony shielded their eyes, wincing back a step. When the light dimmed and Twilight’s eyes readjusted, the crumbling avalanche of debris was gone. Motes of angry red light were all that remained, and they soon winked out of existence, too.

Not one bit of soot made it passed the regal form standing just in front of Twilight. As the brilliant energies engulfing an elegant horn dimmed, Princess Celestia folded her wings gracefully. She surveyed the ponies desperately fighting the blaze, then turned her gaze around towards Twilight. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Twilight grimaced. “Y-yes, Princess.”

Something crossed Celestia’s eye. “Are you sure?”

Twilight paused, then turned away slightly. “I’m not hurt,” she qualified. Celestia didn’t pressure her further. Though she did not have the whole story, she had a very good idea about what had happened. Twilight disheartened, a house burning down, and Applejack nowhere in sight. Yes, she had a very good idea. And so she didn’t ask, not yet.

But of the two ponies she and her Sergeant Buck’s platoon had come across on this very lawn, it wasn’t her star pupil that concerned her.

Again, Celestia cast a glance over her other shoulder.

On the plus side, Rainbow Dash clearly was not injured. What she was, was very worked up. The pegasus was pacing round and round like a caged lion, wings brandished and at the ready. She stared hard at the ground, her mind clearly thinking even harder.

All at once she stopped and snapped her head up to look at Twilight. “Cadance?! You’re telling me Cadance knew something and didn’t tell us?”

Twilight winced again. “I don’t know that for sure,” Twilight admitted. “But… she might have been involved to some degree.”

In a flash, Rainbow was in the air and in her friend’s face. “But she didn’t tell us! She could’ve kept all this from happening and Applejack wouldn’t have to… wouldn’t have to…”

As fast as her rage surfaced, it diminished. She dropped to all fours again, her wings hanging limply from her sides, ears just as languid. The only thing Twilight could think to do was wrap a hoof around her and give her a hug. Rainbow didn’t return it, but she did bury her face against Twilight’s shoulder.

“I’m getting her back,” Rainbow swore.

“I know. We’ll put our heads together and come up with something.”

Rainbow nodded against her shoulder, then pulled away a scowl on her face again. “Well, obviously we know where to start. We’re gonna find Cadance and get her to spill the beans.”

“By asking her nicely,” Twilight said pointedly, giving Rainbow a look.

Rainbow just frowned right back. “If by ‘ask’ you mean pummel her for lying to us, then yes. I’m gonna ask the hay out of her.”

“Rainbow,” Twilight scolded. “I know you’re upset. I am, too. But you and I both know that it isn’t like Cadance to keep a secret unless she had a very good reason, and right now isn’t the time to be losing our heads and jumping to conclusions.”

“Then when is?” Rainbow shouted. “Because I just watched my best friend…! I just saw Applejack…! Cadance had better have something really convincing to say for herself, or so help me Celestia, I’ll—”

“Before you invoke my name in vain,” interjected Celestia herself, “perhaps I could interrupt?”

Rainbow turned to her, as if just realizing she was even there. Celestia approached with a heavy look on her face. For some reason that escaped her, Rainbow found most of that directed her way.

“Rainbow Dash, I must ask you to calm yourself. I know,” she interrupted, seeing her about to speak, “I know. But we cannot lose sight of what is important. That is to say, saving Applejack. In her present state, utilizing the Elements of Harmony would be… problematic, a fact I am sure our enemy is all too aware of and will not hesitate to capitalize on. And that is only one facet of the problem, if Queen Aconita’s warning is to be believed. I know you care very deeply for Applejack, but letting your emotions get the better of you will only cloud your judgment.”

Rainbow didn’t glare at Celestia. She just glared at one of her gilded horseshoes. Totally different. She mumbled something about not letting something get to her, then turned around, glowering.

Celestia stifled a sigh, then turned to Twilight, who straightened up. “Twilight, I hate to ask this of you, but you and your friends are possibly the only ones that can stop Applejack before she hurts anypony, herself included.”

Twilight wilted, doubt and worry plaguing her. A reassuring nuzzle did little to calm her, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “But I have complete faith in you. Go to the Crystal Empire. Speak with Cadance. Whether she is involved or not, I know she will open up to you.”

Twilight smiled appreciatively, then stood up.

The millisecond she did, Rainbow let out a loud, impatient sound. “Ugh, finally!” And took off into the sky.

Two seconds later, she reappeared, looking thoroughly annoyed. “What’s keeping you? Come on, egghead, let’s go already!” And off she shot again.

Twilight sighed, and took a step after her.

“One more moment, Twilight.”

She paused, and glanced over her shoulder. Celestia was looking at her, a dark cloud in her eyes. “I did not want to mention this in front of Rainbow, given her present state of mind, but… Be exceptionally careful on your way to the Crystal Empire,” she told her quietly. “If what you told me about the state of this manor when you arrived is true, I believe there is yet something we are overlooking. Somepony has gone to great lengths to cover up their activities in this matter, but now that Applejack has started her transformation, I fear they may set their sights on you and your friends next.”

Twilight frowned thoughtfully. “I… I was beginning to suspect as much myself. Don’t you worry, Princess; I’ll be on guard for anything the Court might throw at us.”

Celestia glanced up and away, towards the setting sun. “Just in case, I have instructed Sergeant Buck and a platoon of his finest soldiers to escort you and Rainbow Dash to the Empire. I have sent word ahead to Ponyville and the Crystal Empire as well; your friends will be well protected. I know you are more than capable of looking after yourselves, but… allow an old mare some peace of mind.”

Twilight couldn’t keep the troubled look off her face. A guard detail? Celestia had never felt the need to push such a thing onto them before, not when they were confronting Discord, or even when venturing across an embattled Canterlot, or the many other times protection might have come in handy.

“Princess…,” Twilight mumbled hesitantly, keeping her voice low. “Is… is there maybe something you’re not telling me?”

A proud half smile twitched at the corners of Celestia’s mouth. There really was no keeping anything from her prized student. But the smile was short-lived, and disappeared almost immediately.

“The trigger that initiated the attack on Ponyville yesterday,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, barely even audible over the rumble of fire and hiss of water jets. “It was not created by changeling magic. It was a unicorn spell.”

Twilight’s eyes grew as big as dinner plates. “What?”

Celestia gave a discrete nod. “Keep your wits about you, Twilight. The enemy may be far closer to us than we realized.”

Twilight nodded, frowned to herself, then looked back to Celestia, standing a little taller. “Don’t worry, Princess,” she promised. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Celestia smiled warmly for the first time since her arrival. “I know you will. Now hurry; the last train for the Crystal Empire is due to leave shortly.”

Twilight nodded again, surer this time, then turned and galloped away without a backwards look. If she had turned around, she would have seen the very worried look that now plagued Celestia's features.


~~***~~


Twilight’s head was in turmoil. Before, it had been a maelstrom of white noise; shock derailed any productive train of thought and left a mind-numbing roar that drowned out all else. But Celestia had given it something to find traction on, and now it was working full speed, all cylinders firing. Even Rainbow’s very abrupt reappearance didn’t shake her.

“What’s taking so long?!” Rainbow shot, her patience absolutely gone now. “We have to go!”

“Give me a sec,” Twilight without looking at her, and continued towards the road at a terse clip.

Rainbow watched her go, Then dragged her hooves down her face in pure frustration. “Right now? Can’t it wait?”

Twilight didn’t respond immediately, much to Rainbow’s already considerable annoyance. She caught up to her oh-so annoying slowpoke of a friend and gave her a sidelong glare. “What’s the deal? Aren’t we in a hurry?” she said pointedly.

As if to contradict her as much as possible, Twilight came to a stop. Much more of this behavior and Rainbow was going to blow her top! She was just puffing up to really let Twilight have it when, all of a sudden, she asked her a question completely out of left field.

“Hey Rainbow, do you remember what Queen Aconita asked you yesterday?”

That threw Rainbow for a loop. She pulled a face, at a loss. “What’s it matter?”

Twilight frowned to herself, rubbing her chin. “What does the Court gain from a war…?”

Rainbow cocked her head at her. If she wasn’t in such a rush, she might have entertained the possibility that Twilight was, as usual, on to something. But she was in a rush, and wasn’t in the mood to humor her. She could be a super egghead on her own time, but right now she was burning daylight.

“I don’t know. Evil stuff? Can’t we talk about this on the way? We’d be halfway there already if you’d pick up your hooves!”

Twilight shook her head. “I… doubt that, but I see your point. Let’s go.”

Rainbow heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Finally.” She turned – and about ran face-first into an armored pony.

No less than six Royal Guards stood in their way, and once Twilight gave them her attention, they snapped to attention and saluted. At their head was a navy blue stallion dressed in silver and matching blue armor.

“Princess,” Sergeant Buck greeted humbly. “A pleasure to see you again.”

Twilight cocked her head, a look of recognition crossing her features. “Spry Buck? Oh wow, it’s been a while!”

The old veteran chuckled good-naturedly. “Since your brother was in basic, if I remember. I still recall the little filly who used to give me a hard time about the treatment of her brother.”

“I did not,” Twilight countered with a hint of petulance. “I just thought your training methods could be adjusted to minimize unnecessary trauma, that’s all.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve all come a long way, haven’t we?” Buck said with an easy smile. “He’s married to royalty, you are royalty, and I’m a grumpy old geezer serving royalty.”

Twilight smiled – and was all-but butted out of the way when Rainbow bumped into her and stared Buck in the face. “I get you two are having some kind of moment, but can we do the whole reunion thing later? Places to be, ponies to see, curses to beat. You wouldn’t understand,” she added with a cool glance to the Guard Captain.

Buck’s features hardened, and he gave a curt nod. “Right then, down to business. Princess Celestia has asked that I escort the both of you to the Crystal Empire. I’ve already secured transportation, if it pleases you.” He gestured over one shoulder, towards a sleek gold and silver vehicle waiting in the wings on the curb.

Rainbow took one look at the awaiting carriage, then immediately gave Twilight a horrorstruck look. “That?”

Twilight raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Twilight, we’d literally be a million times faster flying. This thing would just slow us down!”

Twilight frowned. “At this point, I’m pretty sure I’d slow you down, too.”

Rainbow gave her a confused look. “What? No – I mean, that’s not – what?”

Twilight shook her head. “Okay, one; we can’t fly all the way to the Crystal Empire. You might, but I can’t. The only way we’re making it to the Crystal Empire is by train, so I need you to please calm down.”

Rainbow gave her a look of desperation, mouth working a few times before she finally got words out. “I… I can’t, okay! Applejack—”

“I know, Rainbow, I know,” Twilight interrupting, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “But ask yourself what she’d tell you right now if she were here.”

Rainbow’s jaw flapped uselessly a number of times. Then, averting eye contact, she set herself on the ground. “She’d… say I was being stupid,” she mumbled. “That… me running around like this would get nothing done.”

Twilight smiled. “Exactly. I promise, Rainbow, we’ll get her back. Have I ever let you down?”

Rainbow glanced up at her, growled under her breath. “I guess not. Fine, let’s just… fine.”

She trotted away, and even though she’d calmed down, she looked somehow worse than ever before without pure agitation to mask it.

Twilight gave her grieving friend a worried look, then she made to follow. She was Applejack’s friend, just like Rainbow, and yet, somehow, she got the feeling that what Rainbow was going through was on a whole different level from her own turmoil.


~~***~~


Half a block from the commotion of onlookers, first-responders and hungry fire, a stage coach sat quietly in the shade of a willow tree. Even from that distance, the firelight cut a flickering red shadow across the richly upholstered interior, and danced on the glasses of a lone, disheveled mare.

Peony watched the entire scene unfold with a heavy heart and adjusted her glasses. “We almost made it.”

“We should have made it.”

Peony nodded to the sound of the tinny voice filling the carriage. “We should have. I don’t understand it. At the rate she was progressing, we should have had more time. What could have caused her to molt prematurely?”

“Perhaps it is better this way.”

Peony shook her head. “How? Applejack is loose, and in her present state, there’s no telling what she will do. And we are still no closer to figuring out who is behind this, or how to undo the damage done already. As it stands, everything is at stake here, and we’re running out of options.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Peony looked away from the window and to the seat opposite her. Sitting across from her, looking for all the world like it belonged there, was a suit of burnished bronze armor. Green fire licked from its empty visor, and acidic light flickered from its many openings. It was an eerie sight, one that should have perturbed Peony had she not seen it so many times before.

The animated helmet squeaked as it turned a little towards the window, enchanted flames hissing quietly. “That is precisely why it is better. The enemy has the advantage now. They will press their luck.”

Peony glanced out the window again. In the distance, she could see two figures – a purple alicorn and a blue, restless pegasus – standing in front of a troop of six Royal Guards. They threw a salute as Peony eyed them with misgivings.

“They’re bait,” Peony deduced.

“Twilight Sparkle has a reputation for being very tenacious in these situations,” the suit of armor said. “Time and again she has come through when nopony else could. If anypony could thwart their plans at the very last minute, it’s her. She stands as the greatest threat to their success, even at this late a phase. ‘Bait’ is the wrong word.”

“Then, ‘target’?”

The armored helmet stared at the carriage in the distance, and if it could squint, it would have. It was pulling away from the curb now.

“Distraction would be more apt. Keep an eye on them, but nothing more,” he ordered.

Peony glanced at the suit of armor quickly. “Is that wise? The carriage—”

“No. Let them go.”

Peony raised a concerned eyebrow. “Sir?”

The suit of armor turned to look at her sightlessly. Only the helmet bore an engraved expression; a grim scowl made all the worse by the billowing flames gushing from the eyeholes and perforated faceguard.

“There is something I need to see,” he said. “There is something about these circumstances… A suspicion I dare not overlook. And perhaps our adversaries will be kind enough to let overconfidence get the better of them.”

It glanced out the window again, as the squeak and rattle of a royally requisitioned carriage rolled passed on its way to the train station.

“If my suspicions are correct, Twilight very well could unmask our adversary for us,” the armor said, a casual air about it now. “But it is not her that I am concerned about.”

Peony gave the suit of armor a nervous look. “And… what if they are attacked before that?”

The armor looked her dead in the face, and very casually, stated, “Oh, I have no doubt of that happening. And if I know Miss Sparkle half as well as I think I do, I suspect she does, too.”


~~***~~


The carriage ride was unbearably slow. Rainbow stared out one window with a dour expression on her face and tapped her hoof impatiently. Every house they passed seemed to take an eternity to disappear behind them. She swore Tank moved faster – on a slow day!

All Rainbow could think about, as they slowly plodded along at a snail’s pace, was that she’d have already been at the station – and back! – by now.

But as much as she hated to admit it, Twilight had a point. A dumb, stupid, totally unfair point. Rainbow might be able to make the trip to the Crystal Empire in, oh, two hours – one if she really pushed herself. But Twilight… Twilight was a clumsy flyer. Considering she’d had her wings for less than six months, she was doing markedly better than foals of that same age, but there was no way she’d be up for a long distance flight, possibly through rough weather.

It did little to ease Rainbow’s mood, knowing that. Her body burned, demanding to do something. Just sitting there and waiting felt, in some way, like she was letting Applejack down by not giving her full measure. She was keyed, she was ready, but all she could do was hurry up… and sit. It was so frustrating!

Rainbow bit her lip. She wasn’t about to just leave Twilight behind, no way. But Applejack…

Come save me… ya hear…?

“Rainbow?”

She jumped and whipped her head around.

Twilight was sitting next to her in the carriage, a deeply worried look on her face. She’d put a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder without her noticing right away. “Are you alright?”

Rainbow noticed Twilight glance down at her chest. She looked down as well, and to her surprise found her own hoof clutched tightly at her breast. Rainbow relaxed her grip, and then set her hoof down at her side.

“’M fine,” she lied, then looked away again.

Twilight might have said something else, but Rainbow tuned her out. She wasn’t in the mood. She closed her eyes and tried very hard not to think about anything.

It wasn’t easy. Glimpses of Applejack continually plagued her, and nothing she did was able to block them out.

A race, one of countless others, before and after. Rainbow didn’t even remember when or where it was anymore. All she recalled was the lithe orange shape sprinting ahead of her, leaning into corners and springing over any obstacle with deer-like grace. She was the only pony ahead of her, but only just; some vague recollection reminded her of the faceless others way, way behind them, huffing and puffing and trying in vain to keep up. Only Applejack surpassed her. Only Applejack ever did.

A furious Applejack far below, cheeks puffed out and face red with anger. She shouted at Rainbow again, shaking a hoof. Rainbow just stuck her tongue out playfully and zoomed away, her enraged friend’s hat in her gasp.

Applejack, shooting her a smirk over her shoulder. She was lounging under a tree, flush with sweat, breathing hard. Rainbow’s heart pounded in her chest and her body ached from a long day of exercise. She didn’t even remember what game they’d been playing, only that it was the most fun she’d had in a long time.

Applejack, lying in a bed in a run-down, all-but abandoned cottage, her alien black body wrapped in gauze, her voice weak. The smell of burnt chitin still clung to Rainbow’s sinuses as she stared, feeling like she was lost in a dream… The horrified look on Applejack’s face when her eyes cracked open and spotted her sitting next to her. For the first time ever – ever – Applejack looked as scared as a lost foal, and twice as vulnerable. And all of that terror was directed at her, of all ponies.

Applejack, sitting restlessly on a cloud for the first time in her life, eyes watching the setting sun, lost in thought. She caught Rainbow staring, and smirked at her, revealing a pointed canine.

Applejack, sound asleep and worry-free for the first time in what felt like forever, snuggled up to her for warmth.

Applejack surrounded by fire, pain and fear in her face, as her body split and tore itself apart…

What do you really know about being a changeling?

Rainbow cocked her head to herself as the memory emerged, unbidden. The memory of a towering black figure, illuminated by ghostly candlelight, looking over her shoulder back at Rainbow with a look of pure disdain.

And what do we stand to gain from a war?

Rainbow frowned to herself, then glanced to her side.

Twilight was leaning forward a little, mid-conversation with that stallion she’d called Spry Buck, who sat across from her. On either side of him, two guards sat like statues, tuning out everything else. On Twilight’s other side was another guard, who also stared blankly into space. They’d all somehow crammed into the carriage with some degree of room to spare, but it was a little too claustrophobic for Rainbow’s liking.

“Shining Armor will be happy to hear that,” Twilight was saying with a smile. “He always spoke very highly of you. After boot camp.”

Buck made a gruff noise and glanced away, embarrassed. “It’s kind of you to say that, Your Highness. Honestly, if the appointment hadn’t come from Princess Celestia herself, I might have turned down the position,” he grumbled. “I’m too old for the city life. There’s plenty of young blood more befitting the post than me. Fort Longtrotter was about all the excitement I could handle.”

Twilight pulled a face that might have been intended as a smile. “Well, it’s been kind of… busy… lately.”

“That it has,” Buck sighed. “That it has… But the lads here are hardworking, so… Suppose I don’t have reason to complain.”

The conversation temporarily dissipated as both drifted off, lost in thought. The pause may have lasted several minutes, had Twilight not felt a nudge on her hip.

She turned questioningly towards Rainbow, who was determinedly looking out the window and not at her. “So… what you were saying earlier…,” she grumbled, “About what Aconita said…”

She glanced over her shoulder only at that point, though begrudgingly. “Why’s that so important all of a sudden?”

Twilight blinked at her, then frowned to herself. “Well… I’ve been trying to figure out what she meant when she asked me that. There is any number of things somepony could gain from a war. Resources, territory, security… Just to name a few. There’s too many possibilities, so I thought maybe she was being rhetorical. But then I remembered she asked you the same question. That can’t be coincidence.”

She glanced across the way towards Buck, who returned the look with a puzzled look of his own. “Of course, there’s the obvious. Queen Chrysalis herself said it: Equestria has more love than any place else in the world. And since changelings need love to grow stronger, the attraction is pretty clear.”

“Indeed,” Buck agreed. “And by all accounts, they have not given up on those goals.”

“That’s the thing,” Twilight said, her frown deepening. “Ever since the Royal Wedding, the Court’s been rather quiet. I always assumed they were just biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

“Which they did,” Buck said grimly.

But to this, Twilight shook her head. “But what if they weren’t?”

Everypony gave her a perplexed look. “Huh?” Rainbow said, completely uncomprehending. Even Buck raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Twilight was rubbing her chin again, thinking critically all the while. “Humor me for a second. If you were going to go to war, and your strategy was going to be to employ stealth and subterfuge, how would blatantly leveraging a threat against the enemy in order to announce your intentions be a sound tactical move?”

“You lost me,” Rainbow deadpanned.

“Well, for starters, it was so out of character. If the Court’s goal was to wait for Applejack to… change, why bring it to our attention in the first place? I know Chrysalis can be…”

“A total egotistical maniac?” Rainbow offered.

“… Yeah. Something like that. She’s full of herself, but she’s not stupid. So why make a scene at the biggest event in Equestria just to put us on guard? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What about the changeling apprehended at the scene?” Buck inquired. “By yourself, I might add.”

Twilight shook her head, troubled scowl returning. “That, I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just know that it was strange. Really strange. I had thought that there might be some kind of hidden agenda that the Court was so confident that would work that they didn’t need to be cautious.”

“And there was,” Buck put in. “Applejack’s molt.”

Rainbow’s expression soured, but she said nothing.

But again, Twilight shook her head. “I thought that, too. But then, Aconita put the same question to Rainbow and me. If Agave is to be believed, there has to be a reason. What if – and this is purely speculation – but what if Aconita was trying to tell us something?”

Rainbow frowned. “Tell us what, exactly? If she was, would it hurt her to be a little more direct?”

“Maybe,” Twilight said with a nod. “This is all just speculation, but… If Chrysalis is opposed to helping us, disobeying the Queen of Queens could be a death sentence, or at the very least political suicide. If what we know about the queens and their hives is true, they’d never jeopardize their standing in the Court for anything.”

Buck glanced between the two of them. “Are you implying that Queen Aconita might actually be opposed to the Queen of Queens?”

Twilight grimaced. “I don’t know,” she repeated, with a note of chagrin. “For all I know, she could be just as evil as everypony makes her out to be. She could just be taking advantage of the situation proactively. Maybe she is here just for her daughter. But that question…”

She frowned to herself, a hoof on her chin again, lost in thought. “Ever since she asked me that, I’ve been thinking it over. What can the Court gain from war? What is so important about that question that she’d repeat it to two different ponies? And… I think I’ve figured it out.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. Buck as well. On either side of him, two guards exchanged a mute look, silently pretending they weren’t listening. “So, what do you think it’s all about?” Rainbow questioned.

Twilight glanced over at her. “I think, what the Court stands to gain from a war with Equestria is… nothing.”

Rainbow cocked her head in confusion. “Uh… you lost me again.”

Twilight looked at her seriously. “There is nothing the Court would gain from instigating a war with Equestria. Think about it; all a war would do is spoil the prize; Equestria itself. And that’s assuming the Court wins. Considering we already know of their existence and are already developing countermeasures, the price of victory would be so high that I doubt any queen would ever commit to the campaign. And yet they would start saber-rattling in our faces? It’s counter-productive to their goals. What Aconita was trying to tell us is that the Court had no reason to attack us.”

Rainbow gave her a shocked look, taken aback. “Wait… so you’re saying the Changeling Court isn’t behind this? Because that sounds crazy! Applejack and I came across so many changelings just hanging out in the Everfree. And then there’s that one you caught at the Summer Sun Celebration. How can the Court not be involved?”

Twilight shook her head again. “I know. Some things still don’t add up, and really, this is all just speculation at this point. Well, most of it. But the more I think about it, the more it seems like somepony has gone to a lot of trouble to pin the blame on the obvious target; the changelings in the south.”

Rainbow snorted grumpily and folded her hooves across her chest. “So what? Are you saying there might be ponies involved? How do we know they're not just being controlled?"

"We don't," Twilight said. "It seems really unlikely that the Court would cooperate with anypony, and vice versa, no matter how much they hate Applejack. But even if we're talking about a bunch of enslaved ponies, some things still don't add up."

Rainbow glowered worse than ever and leaned back. "Psh… That totally sounds like something Steel Shod would do. I mean, he hates changelings enough, right?”

Twilight gave her a speculative look. “I doubt that. Outside of Ponyville, Steel Shod has virtually no influence. He’d never be able to orchestrate something of this magnitude on his own. And up to this point, he has tried to do things by the book. I don’t think his pride could stomach resorting to under-hooved methods like this. Not to mention the level of ingenuity is way beyond anything he could come up with.”

Rainbow frowned. “Then, who does that leave?”

To that, Twilight’s scowl only grew darker. “I don’t know that, either. But it would have to be a group who really, really despises Applejack, if not Equestria itself.”

Rainbow glanced at her, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you talking about…?”

Twilight gave her a level look. “I’m just speculating, Rainbow. Just speculating. And it doesn’t explain away the changelings involved at all…”

The carriage fell quiet for a long time. Sergeant Buck looked at the floor, a deeply troubled and deeply conflicted look on his face as he processed Twilight’s implications. Twilight did the same while looking like she’d bitten into the mother of all lemons.

Rainbow went back to looking out the window, a foreboding cloud in the back of her head. The things Twilight said sort of made sense, and given her track record, Twilight might really be on to something. Even if Twilight was right, that didn't change Rainbow's burning need to punch something in the face, if only to make herself feel better. 

But those changelings in Murmuring Mire and the Everfree Forest… the one that attacked Ponyville… That last one had left no question about where his allegiances lay. Right?

Ugh… All this thinking is driving me crazy…

Rainbow turned her attention to the street outside, just for something to do. They were still moving just as painfully slow, trundling down the main boulevard at a stately pace. But at least now she had something new to think about.

And she would have continued to think about it, if she didn’t notice a particular sight drift across her field of vision at just another non-descript intersection. But when she saw it, it immediately pushed all of that out of the spotlight.

“Uh… Twilight?” she spoke up.

“Hmm?”

“We’re going to the train station, right?”

Twilight frowned at her. She glanced at Buck, who looked similarly confused. “Yes, that’s right. Why—”

“Because we just passed the turn.”

Twilight froze in place. “…What?”

Rainbow glanced out the window, but already the street sign bearing the telltale train car and blue background had moved out of sight, in the wrong direction. 

“That can’t be right,” Buck murmured, and leaned forward to look out the window.

At first, Twilight couldn’t figure out why he abruptly stopped. But she noticed the surprised look on his face. He turned his head, not towards the window, but to the guard pony sitting right next to him, and the razor sharp length of steel being pressed to his side.

Twilight saw it at the same moment Buck did. The old stallion looked at it with a confounded sort of realization, then towards the guard, who met his gaze without inflection. All he gave was a small, almost unnoticeable shake of the head. Then, Buck eased himself back into his seat.

Rainbow didn’t notice the drama unfolding, not until she whipped around and started to say “Okay, what the hay is going on?” She only got to “Oka—” before catching on and freezing. She glanced confusedly to Buck, then to Twilight, followed her gaze to the stoic stallion across from her, and then down to sparkle off of the discreet hoofblade pressed length-wise to Buck’s ribs.

“Well,” Twilight said quietly, “I suppose we’re passed the speculation phase now.”

“It would seem that way,” Buck answered in a forced casual tone. “My apologies, princess.” He then turned a sour look to the stallion sticking a dagger to his side. “I seem to have sang the praises of my men a little too hastily.”

For the first time, the guard broke his silence. “It’s nothing personal, Captain, really. We can all just sit here and enjoy the rest of the trip in peace. There is somepony who wants to have a word with the princess, that’s all.”

Twilight’s frown deepened to the point of a glare. “So, Princess Celestia was right. There really are ponies behind this.”

The guard didn’t show any inflection or reaction. But there was what could be taken as an impressed glint in his eye. “Everypony always talks about how clever you are, princess. I can see why he’d be concerned about you. Really, I am sorry to have to do this; my daughter thinks the world of you, and you have my respect, truly. But… sometimes things don’t work out the way we want.”

Twilight nodded. “I am sorry it had to work out like this.”

“As am I.”

Twilight eased herself back in her seat. Any other pony in a situation like this would panic, start screaming, running in circles, or any number of things. But Twilight had a perfect gasp of the situation. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been preparing for something like this, either.

She glanced slightly to her side, noting the guard seated there. He eyed her warily, but said and did nothing. She only noted that he didn’t have a weapon pointed at her, but there was an ominous shimmer around his horn. Then, she glanced towards Rainbow, who met her sidelong look coolly. 

“So, can I start ‘asking’ some questions now?” Rainbow quipped casually.

“Depends,” Twilight responded.

“On?”

“Can you give me two seconds?”

“Easy.”

The guard holding the knife to Buck’s side narrowed his eyes at them, suspicious. Buck held Twilight’s gaze, immobile. Then, he glanced towards Rainbow. The pegasus met his look, and watched as he flicked his eyes to his other side – towards the other guard sitting next to him. Rainbow smirked slightly.

The guard with the knife opened his mouth and started to say something – when Buck’s head slammed into his, full force, followed a split second by the rest of him body-slamming the slighter stallion into the carriage wall.

At the exact same moment, Rainbow exploded from her seat, and in the blink of an eye, slammed her hooves into the face of the guard on Buck’s other side. His head bashed against the back of the carriage and he slumped, out cold. Then, using his face like a trampoline, she kicked backwards and gave the guard sitting beside Twilight the same bone-cracking treatment before he could even draw in a gasp of surprise.

As all of this happened, Twilight’s horn started to hum. As she’d predicted, within two seconds, it came to a brilliant blaze. She reached out with both hooves as her eyes glowed with power, touched Buck’s shoulder as he wrestled his adversary to the floor, as well as placing a hoof on Rainbow’s foreleg. And with a pop, all three vanished into thin air.

The trip was a short one. On such short notice, Twilight couldn’t triangulate her trajectory based on more than sight. So, she and her two companions appeared in the one safe place most immediately available - the side of the road.

Buck hit the pavement first after finding his seat no longer beneath him, followed by Twilight, who at least managed to get her hooves underneath her. Rainbow had a moment of disorientation as the fabric of the universe realigned itself around her, but her wings kept her aloft.

“Go!” Buck barked from the cobblestones. He was pressing a hoof to his side, his face snarled up in pain. “I’ll buy you two some time. Go!”

Not far away, the carriage was skidding to a halt. The team of drivers shouted in their direction, and by the sounds of it, it wasn’t a friendly call. Two guards jumped from the back of the carriage, each brandishing a spear.

Twilight glanced at them all, gave Buck one more worried look, then turned and ran for her life. She didn’t even slow down as she plucked a bristling Rainbow Dash out of the air in her telekinetic grip and hauled her off in the other direction.

Buck grinned through the pain, and worked himself up to his hooves. “Well… that retirement plan’s sure looking good about now,” he grunted to himself, as the first guard descended on him.

Buck heard him coming. He shifted to his left, and caught the falling spear between his body and foreleg. Then, he twisted for all he was worth, and to the guard’s surprise, wrenched his weapon clean out of his grip.

Before the assailant could recover, he felt the sharp smack of his former weapon slam into the back of his head with enough force to propel him face-first into the very hard stones at his hooves. After a ringing crunch, the guard stayed down and did not move again.

Buck slung his new weapon under his foreleg and rose to his hind legs. His remaining hoof clutched his side tightly as little lights popped before his eyes. He staggered a little, but with gritted teeth, forced himself to steady.

The remaining would-be foalnappers faltered at the sight of him and the withering glare he gave them. 

“Bah… Never liked the idea of retirement, anyway. Come, then! Let's have a fight of it!” Buck laughed humorlessly as his adversaries got over their shock and charged. Buck met them head-on, and demonstrated what a thirty year combat training instructor could do with just one foreleg, a standard issue spear, and a gut full of stalwart fury.


~~***~~


Twilight chanced a glance over her shoulder as she ran, but by then they’d left the scene far behind. Worry clawed at her heart, but she didn’t dare stop. They had to make it to the train station – that was the only thought she focused on. Had to make it to the train station.

“Hold on a second, Rainbow,” she said abruptly. 

The pegasus gave her an annoyed look, but slowed to a halt. They stood in the middle of an intersection – one of countless identical ones in downtown Canterlot. A single cart rattled on by, its occupant and driver eying them curiously as it passed. Beyond that, the street was empty. “Where are we?” Rainbow asked, looking around.

Twilight turned her attention towards the tall street signs squinted. “Alabaster Street, and… Platinum Way. Okay, got it.”

She reached out without looking, touched Rainbow’s flank – much to her surprise – and together they teleported again.

The trip lasted only a split second, but in that split second, the two traveled nearly three blocks, west, then south. Now that Twilight knew where she was, broader jumps weren’t as daunting a proposition. She’d long ago committed a map of the higher class districts of Canterlot to memory to ensure she always made it to lessons with Princess Celestia in the most time-effective ways possible. Right now, though, it wasn't tardiness that drove her to make erratic leaps through space and time.

When next they reappeared, it was on a grassy island in the center of a turnabout. Traffic bustled by all around them – posh vehicles delivering well-to-do families to and from five star restaurants, last-minute delivery carts packed high with goods from across Equestria trundling towards their final destinations, and ponies of every color of the rainbow milling about the sidewalks.

As Twilight looked around, the street lamps burst to life, one by one. Their lights glimmered on Summer Sun Celebration banners and streamers that lined the boulevard and rustled in the breeze.

“Where are we now?” Rainbow inquired, looking around warily. Her diagnosis of the area was immediate; there were way too many ponies around for her liking. They’d never see a threat coming until it’d already snatched them up.

“Clover Lane,” Twilight said. “The busiest street in Canterlot. We should be safe here.”

“Are you kidding? There’s ponies everywhere! Any one of them could be after us!”

“Yes,” Twilight admitted, “But I seriously doubt whoever we’re up against would risk exposing themselves by trying to abduct a Princess of Equestria in front of half of downtown Canterlot.”

Rainbow still cast a dubious look around, unsure. But even as she did so, she noticed ponies stopping, and looking in their direction curiously. Some were even beginning to murmur excitedly as they identified the lavender alicorn sitting next to Rainbow. She continued to give them an uncertain once-over, but in the end she forced herself to relax. “Alright, fine. What now? Are we really just going to leave Buck back there?”

“We make for the train station, like we were,” Twilight said, though she winced. “We should be okay as long as we stay a step ahead of these guys, and the first step to that is getting out of Canterlot as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” said Rainbow slowly. “But what about Buck?”

Twilight’s expression became strained for a moment, then she took a deep breath. “Sergeant Buck knows how to protect himself. If we’d stayed to help, we’d just get in his way. I-it’s for the best.”

Rainbow could have pointed out how unconfident she sounded about that. Nothing sat worse with Rainbow than leaving a friend behind, and she’d give anything to zip back to the old stallion’s side and duke it out with those goons. That kind of stress relief was almost too irresistible.

But brawling in the streets wouldn’t bring Applejack back. And ultimately, that was what every action boiled down to in her mind; things that would and things that would not help save her friend.

“Okay, okay… and where is the station from here?”

“Oh, about a ten minute walk down the lane,” Twilight responded, still looking around and thus not fully paying attention.

Before Rainbow could open her mouth to say something else, in the distance, a loud bong chimed the hour. Again and again it sounded, and each time it did, Twilight’s face grew just a little paler.

“And… when is the train leaving?” Rainbow asked with dread.

“Oh… about now-ish,” Twilight answered, her voice an octave or two higher than normal.

“Thought so.”


~~***~~


It was a slow evening at the Canterlot Train Station, a definite first in a long time. There had only been one near-trampling all day, and the congestion of departing and arriving throngs was almost non-existent.

In all Bellmouth’s years, he hadn’t seen such a quiet time at the station. He knew of the travel restrictions imposed of late, but he hadn’t thought of the actual impact. And now they he had a taste of the easy life, he couldn’t fathom how he’d lived any other way. No helping mothers with strollers, no mad dash to stow luggage bins. Not once today had he needed to go to his happy place just to endure the hordes of ponies, namely the droves upon droves of screaming foals. Dear Celestia, the foals…

But today it had been quiet, and slow, and quiet, and peaceful! And quiet! Perhaps he’d hit himself on the head. Perhaps he was dreaming of a utopian world. Perhaps he’d completely snapped after ten long years of spotless service and was in reality sitting in a padded room, happily foaming at the mouth. Whatever the cause for his immense good fortune, Bellmouth was having perhaps the best day at work he’d had in years, and he wasn’t about to do something to change that.

He stood at the doorway to Car #8, his usual post, and looked up and down the platform. To his delight, he spotted no late arrivals. The train station was empty, and the only sound to be heard was the building hiss from the warming steam engine up front.

“All Aboard!” he shouted at the top of his lungs one more time. His voice echoed back at him, the only sound to hear, besides the hissing and rumbling coming from the front of the train.

He gave one final call, more out of procedure than any belief that he’d missed anypony, then leaned back into the entryway and slid the doors shut. All up and down the train, he could hear other doors being secured.

The train let out a deafening bugle from its horn, steam blasting from its stack like the eruption of a volcano. Then, with a laborious chug, the wheels started to turn, and the train started to shift.

Bellmouth hung on, like he always did on the countless, blended-together trips he’d made in this very train, and countless more to come. As the train picked up steam, his mind started to wander. With nothing to do, maybe he’d finally be able to crack open that book his sister got him for Hearth’s Warming. Maybe he’d just curl up and – dare he even consider it – take a nap on the job! Oh, what a daredevil he was becoming!

Bellmouth smiled like a mischievous foal—until eight hooves slammed onto the roof directly above him.

He shrieked and fell over. Hat askew, he straightened up, just as the doors to the next car cranked open, and in walked a blue pegasus and purple alicorn, both thoroughly out of breath and sweating profusely.

“Made it,” Rainbow panted. Her wings hung heavily from her sides, thoroughly exhausted.

“Just… in time,” Twilight breathed, walking stiffly. Her forelegs ached in the perfect shape of Rainbow’s tightly clutched hooves where she’d lifted her. Now, as Twilight walked, she tried very hard to keep the room from spinning; that had been way faster than she’d ever want to fly again.

The two walked straight passed a flabbergasted Bellmouth, who just stared, wide eyed, as they walked down the train car, and into the next. As the door clicked shut, blinked, mouth hanging open stupidly. Then, he mumbled, “Was that an alicorn?” as the train picked up speed, barreling towards the Frozen North.


~~***~~


It didn’t take the two of them long to find a private room on the sleeper car and sequester themselves inside. And once the door was closed behind them, Twilight set about locking it, then muffling it with a zap from her horn. Precautions never hurt anypony.

While she was busying herself with safety measures, however, Rainbow was fuming.

“I knew it! I knew it was them!” she raged, all the while pacing up and down between the seats.

Twilight cast a skeptical look over her shoulder. “Really? Because, up until ten minutes ago, you were all for the Changeling Court masterminding everything.”

Rainbow paused only to throw her a dirty look. “Yeah, well, those stupid nobles were a close second!”

“We’re not even sure it’s actually them, Rainbow,” Twilight pointed out. “All we know for sure is that somepony is after us, now that Applejack’s… uh…” Seeing the look on Rainbow’s face, she trailed off.

“Then who else would it be?” Rainbow shot. “My bits were on Steel Shod, but if he’s out apparently, so who else is there?”

“All we know for certain,” Twilight said calmly, “is that it must be somepony with enough influence to sway the Royal Guard. You heard that stallion on the carriage; he was genuinely sorry about trying to foalnap us. But that doesn’t prove who ordered him to do it.”

“Take your pick,” Rainbow growled darkly. “I don’t have enough pinions to count all the nobles AJ has against her.”

Twilight frowned back. “And I don’t have enough to count the ones on her side, either.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is we can’t just cast blanket accusations against everypony. And until we know exactly who’s behind this, we can’t afford to let them distract us from helping Applejack.”

Rainbow continued to glower at anything and everything, but she finally stopped her pacing. She paused, privately fumed a little, then hopped up on the bench beside her and curled up like a grumpy cat on the cushion.

“Ugh… you’re right, Twilight…”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Don’t. Push it.”

Twilight smiled slightly, then took a seat opposite Rainbow. Her foul-tempered friend didn’t look at her, instead opting to watch the countryside streak by outside.

The sun was lowering. Both sat for a time in silence, neither one sure what to say or which thought to voice, and instead watched the sun go down, bit by bit, until they rounded a corner, and it vanished from sight. The next time the train banked in the other direction, it was gone.

“…Hey Twilight?”

She turned away from the window. Rainbow still sat in the same place, unmoving. Except, there was something oddly… diminished about the way she looked, like she hadn’t slept in an age.

“Yes?”

For a second, it looked like Rainbow reconsidered speaking. Then, very reluctantly, “… D’you… do you think she’s scared?”

Twilight pursed her lips. For the longest time, she didn’t know what to say. It was almost an entire minute before she opened her mouth again. “No.”

“Why not?” Rainbow asked quietly. “I would be.”

“Because she knows we’re coming to save her. All of us. Even if she’s a little afraid right now, she knows she can count on us. She knows she can count on you.”

Rainbow finally moved. She gave Twilight a confused look, which only compounded when she saw the teasing smile on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Twilight laughed. “Oh come on, Rainbow. Do you have any idea how much you’ve helped her since everypony found out she was a changeling? I mean, the paparazzi started calling you her guard dog!”

Rainbow huffed. “Yeah, well, they wouldn’t leave her alone. Besides, they would’ve gotten off way worse if Big Mac got a hold of them first. Honestly, they should be thanking me.”

“And who was the one that always encouraged her whenever she started doubting herself?”

Rainbow huffed again. “Psh, yeah right. She did all that herself. It’s not my fault sometimes she needs a kick in the flank to get her rear in gear.”

Twilight frowned at that. “Do you really think you do nothing for her?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Not really. I mean, AJ’s got it all in her already. She’s brave and smart and cool… sometimes she just forgets that, you know? I mean, I see it all the time, but she just… doesn’t get it, I guess. Or maybe she just forgets and I have to remind her. Look, it’s nothing special; anypony could do it.”

Twilight was quiet for a very, very long time after that. She watched Rainbow without comment, the wheels and cogs in her brain silently working.

It took her a very long time – a very long time – but after mulling it over until the sun was but a purple stain across the starry night sky, something clicked in Twilight’s head.

By that point, an exhausted Rainbow had finally passed out against the window. She couldn’t have been comfortable; her body was bent like a boomerang against the seat and wall. One wing stuck out at an odd angle, and her hooves sat sort of jumbled together, her head resting pressed up against the glass.

Twilight just looked at her, and with a subtle bob of her horn, she turned off the lights. Rainbow didn’t even flinch.

Twilight smiled at her. “Now I get it,” she whispered to herself, if only to make her thoughts seem more real. “You really don’t notice how you hold her world together. Sure anypony could say the things you do. Most of us have. But you are the only one she really listens to.”

Rainbow breathed deeply in response and drooled on the window. She kicked a little in her sleep and smacked her lips and started to snore.

Twilight smiled a little bigger, then returned to watching the stars outside. “I get the feeling, if there’s anypony who can reach her now, it’s going to be you.”


~~***~~


The train rattled on across the land, picking its way through valleys and around hills as it ventured towards flatter, colder climates. As the sun went down, the few passengers on board retired to their private quarters, or just curled up on a seat and drifted off to sleep. Those still awake had a reason to be so, such as the conductors making their rounds, the driver monitoring the engine’s dials, and an inconspicuous mare out for a stroll.

Nopony paid her any mind. It was a long trip, so none would begrudge her the need to stretch her hooves. So, none kept an eye on her as she slipped away, unseen, until she found one car in particular. There, she quietly moved to the next car, and with a flick of her horn, pried apart the coupling holding them together. 


~~***~~


Something hit Rainbow on the side of her face, rudely awaking her from a dead sleep. Right away she identified the culprit; a jolt in the train. She grumbled petulantly and righted herself in her seat. Now that she was awake, she could feel how sore she’d become.

As she stretched to work the kinks out of her spine, she looked across the small room to find Twilight, sound asleep on her seat, hooves hanging over the side.

Rainbow rubbed her face a little. Thoughts of rolling back over and going to sleep tempted her, but the longer she sat there, the more alert she became, and the less inclined to doze. Especially when the car lurched again.


~~***~~


She hadn’t counted on the safety chains. One to a side, they were there to prevent just such an event as she was trying to cause. What was rather impressive was the fact that those two simple steel links hadn’t snapped when they went taut.

But that simply wouldn’t do, now would it? They were getting dangerously close to the deadline, after all. So, with a slightly more annoyed gesture from her horn, she sliced the last things holding the two train cars together, then stepped onto the leading car. She watched mutely as the car behind her started to slow, and lag behind, foot by foot, then yard by yard.


~~***~~


Rainbow glanced out of the window. Maybe it was her imagination, but the trees outside didn’t seem to be whipping by as fast as before. She blinked and shook her head, then looked again. No, they were definitely taking longer to pass. Which meant the train was slowing down.

“Hey… Hey Twilight,” Rainbow spoke up, quietly at first.

Her friend snorted, and picked her head up off of the seat. “Wha-huh?”

“Something’s up,” Rainbow said as she started to scowl. “We’re slowing down.”

That woke Twilight up in a hurry. She sat up quickly and looked out the window. Even to somepony as unfamiliar with speed, she could easily see that they were definitely going slower, and getting slower all the time.

“That can’t be right,” she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Maybe… maybe there’s something on the tracks.”

“Or maybe,” Rainbow said shortly, “we’re about to be foalnapped for the second time today.”

Twilight looked at her. She blinked, then let her eyes open wide. “Ooooh. Uh oh.”


~~***~~


A stallion was waiting by the side of the tracks as the train came barreling by, full speed. His hoof rested on a lever, which was connected to a tall flag. And that flag was connected to a junction between two sets of tracks.

He waited impatiently, checking his watch. As the last car went whistling past, he put all his weight down on the lever. Metal rails ground and squealed in complaint as they shifted, just in time for a disconnected runaway section of train to arrive.


~~***~~


Twilight and Rainbow both felt when the car hit the junction and swerved left. Even after losing so much speed, it had more than enough momentum to upend both of them and toss them against the wall. The entire car groaned as it shifted, first left, then right once it hit the new set of tracks and settled.

“What the hay just happened?” Rainbow questioned angrily from against the wall.

“We’re being diverted,” Twilight said quickly. She pressed her cheek up against the window and strained her eyes for all they were worth. Sure enough, far in the distance, she could just make out the train they’d just been a part of speeding away around a bend, leaving them behind.

“To where?” Rainbow asked as she got up.

“If I had to guess?” Twilight said back. “Back to Canterlot.”


~~***~~


With a heavy thud, the runaway train cars ran full speed into a slow-moving coal car, which in turn was attached to a steam engine.

The coupling for both slammed together, and before it could pry itself apart, a sturdy steak was driven down into a slot, locking both halves together.

And with that, the newly created train began picking up speed as it went into a banking set of tracks, gradually leading the train back into the south.


~~***~~


“Are you kidding me?!” Rainbow cried out, after picking herself up again. That last impact had been the biggest one yet, but now she could see they were beginning to pick up speed again. And they were turning. “They totally ripped this plan off from Daring Do!”

“If only plagiarism was all we had to deal with,” Twilight said. As she said it, her eyes went to the door to their private room, like she expected it to be kicked down at any moment. Because she did fully expected that to happen.

But while the door stayed firmly in its runners, Twilight thought quick. Whoever was behind this was a lot more determined than she’d given them credit for.

She snapped out of it when she heard hooves stomping down the corridor outside. She didn’t have time for a better plan.

“Rainbow,” she said quickly, rounding on her friend.

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

Rainbow blinked. “Uh, yeah, why do you even have to—”

“Good,” Twilight said, as fervent knocking started on the door.

Rainbow got one look at the door, started to brace herself for a fight… and vanished in a lavender nova of light.

It happened as fast as a blink. One moment she was inside, sitting on her seat. The next, a wall of biting wind struck her. The support beneath her vanished, replaced instead with a hundred foot drop straight down into a gorge. Towering pines stood all around her, but she only got a split second look at them before turbulence and velocity took hold and sent her tumbling through the air. For a fraction of a second, she saw the train she’d just been inside speeding away through the trees. Then she was falling.

Rainbow just managed to whip open her wings and catch herself mere inches before dashing herself against the rocks at the bottom of the ravine. Then, she swooped up into the sky, high above the tallest tree, and came to a hover.

“Twilight…” she panted. Her heart was racing now. Off in the distance, she could see the billowing column expelled by the train. It was halfway through its roundabout turn, and would soon be headed back the way it’d come, her friend in tow.

She started to give chase, but halted.

Do you trust me?

Rainbow ground her teeth. “Stupid egghead!” she hissed, kicked at the air in frustration, then twisted around, and piled on the speed towards the distant north.


~~***~~


Twilight sat motionless in her seat. She was waiting, making sure her friend had gotten the message after all and wasn't coming back. All the while, hooves pounded on the door, more and more insistently. “Open up in there!” somepony gruff shouted.

She waited several long seconds. And when there was no sign of her feathery friend, she took a moment to catch her breath, steel her nerve, and calmly slide the latch open.

“It’s open,” she said politely, forcing herself to stay calm.

There was a long, suspicious pause. Then, carefully, the door slid open.

In came two burly unicorns, neither of which were dressed in any sort of official attire. It made them look all the more like thugs and brutes each.

Both looked like they’d been expecting a fight. What they got, instead, was a single frowning mare sitting casually in her seat.

“Where’s the other one,” the lead stallion demanded.

“Gone,” Twilight responded easily. “And I don’t think you’ll catch her. But you guys don’t care about her, do you? You’re only after me. Well? Here I am.”

The stallions both turned to give each other a suspicious look, which after a moment they turned on Twilight.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “So? I was under the impression somepony wanted a word with me.”

The stallions still looked on guard, but one of them nodded. “That’s right. You going to come peacefully?”

In response, Twilight held out her hooves with a look of regal disdain.

The two exchanged a look again. Then one of them grinned, reached behind him, and pulled out a single, horn-shaped cuff. Twilight deflated a little at the sight of it.

“Don’t want you making a scene, Your Highness,” the stallion said. “You understand. Now, put it on; you’ve kept the boss waiting long enough.”


~~***~~


As the last dull colors of the day faded from the starry night sky, deep in a secluded wood far away, a raccoon cracked open his eyes and slunk out from his tree hollow den.

It was a gorgeous night. To the raccoon’s keen eyes, the starlight and full moon were better than the sun. All throughout his little grove, critters were either tucking themselves into their dens or rising with the moon, eager to forage under the cover of night, as he was.

The raccoon stretched, working out the kinks of a day-long nap. As he did so, something out of the ordinary caught his attention. Nose twitching and ears swiveling forward, the critter glanced around, taking stock of his environment.

There was a smell on the air. A burning smell. Burning smells were bad, because where the burning smell was, so was fire. And fire was very bad. But there was no sign of fire, just the smell.

A slight rustle caught his attention, and he looked up. A squirrel darted through the tree branches overhead, quickly vacating the area. Right behind him was his mate and two very anxious-looking babies, both clinging to their mother’s back.

An owl swooped overhead, but it seemed totally oblivious to the easy meal scampering recklessly just beneath it. It hooted once, calling out, then was gone.

Down below, a branch cracked. The raccoon looked down, just in time to spot an elk and his herd bound passed, creating an ungodly racket through the dry underbrush. They weren’t fleeing, per se, but there was a definite urgency to their pace.

Now the raccoon was curious. Was there indeed fire? His relocating neighbors seemed to hint as much. But where was it coming from?

All of a sudden, one of the elks below let out a startled bleat. Now they bolted, scattering in every direction with reckless abandon. The size of the animals meant they could crush their own paths through the thick brush below, and they did so. The raccoon could still hear their crashing hooves and snapping branches long after they’d departed.

Now the raccoon was very curious. Cautious, but very curious all the same. 

Carefully, he lugged himself from his hole and worked his way down the side of his tree. Always his ears were listening, his nose sniffing, his eyes searching. But by then, the grove had become rather peaceful.

Eventually, he reached the lowest branch he dared venture to, and peered down.

Something lay in the shadows beneath his tree. Something large and sprawled. It gave off that burning smell, a dangerous smell. Lights flickered all across its body – green lights. Unfamiliar. Dangerous.

Cautiously he lingered while trying to identify the creature below. He bobbed his head, sniffing. He saw the amber eye flash open. He saw the constricted pupil zero in on him. And he heard the rustle as the creature began to rise.

The moon struck its pearlescent white form wherever the beams could make it through the trees. It struggled to rise with a groan, then toppled over again. Then, its body made the strangest sound the raccoon had ever heard. It creaked and popped, and as he watched, he could have sworn it was slightly bigger than before.

Again it tried to rise, but its limbs seemed unable to support its weight. It fell again, breathing in short, pained breaths.

And not once did those eerie, hungry eyes deviate from the raccoon.

He knew he was in danger now. Not wasting another second, he turned and bolted for his life, leaving the struggling creature as far behind as he possibly could.
	
> Chapter 20: A Chorus of the Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	For the first time ever, Rainbow was starting to get sick and tired of flying. To be fair, though, she had just winged it pretty much halfway across Equestria in less than a day. First Ponyville to Canterlot, and now most of the way from Canterlot to the distant Frozen North.

And it was frozen, indeed. Even during the height of summer, Rainbow found herself soaring over frigid tundra, eventually giving way to sheets of featureless snow as far as the eye could see. And flying just beneath the cloud cover, Rainbow was subjected to every mercilessly cold gust of air the arctic landscape could throw at her. The tips of her feathers were slowly building up a layer of frost. Sooner or later, that frost was going to turn into ice, and then it would be like flying with cement on her wings. In other words, very difficult.

But though her wings weighed her down and grew increasingly uncooperative from the dual threat of exhaustion and the elements, she forged on. It was the weight on her heart that burdened her the most. First Applejack, now Twilight… Whoever was behind this was going to get such a beat-down when she found them. The only thing that kept her from turning around and rescuing Twilight was their last conversation, and the look on Twilight’s face. She was smart, smarter than Rainbow for sure. Twilight wouldn’t be taken easily. Rainbow was sure she had a plan up her eggheady sleeve. Applejack on the other hand…

…Come… Come save me… ya hear…?

She’d made a promise, an unbreakable promise. Whatever else was going on in Equestria – whatever else the Court or whoever was responsible was trying to do – it would all have to wait. Unless the perpetrators felt like walking themselves into her hoof. That would work, too.

I’m coming, bugbrain. One way or another, I’m coming to rescue you. I just… I just need a little more time…

Abruptly, the air around her changed. The icy fangs in the wind vanished instantly, replaced instead with a much more temperate coolness. A sudden warm updraft caught her wings, much to her relief. She let the thermal blow her upwards, taking the strain off of her overtaxed wings. The driving frost dissipated, clearing Rainbow’s vision. And even though the clouds still hung low and oppressive overhead, she found herself greeted by a welcome sight: the sprawling, luminous vista of crystal homes and buildings, all clustered around a towering pillar of glowing crystal. The Crystal Empire… She’d finally made it!

Rainbow squared her shoulders and set her jaw.

Time to get some answers.


~~***~~


Deep within the Crystal Palace, Rarity quickly trotted down a cavernous hallway. The exquisite decorum was, for once, overlooked as she hastened down the lengthy hallway at a quick - but not unsightly - pace.

Fluttershy flapped along behind her. In her hooves, a bundle of carefully folded, faded silk cloth bulged with a rectangular shape. Just visible through her hooves was a single, bright blue heart wreathed with golden wings - a fine embroidery fit for royalty, even if it was a little threadbare and faded.

The duo came to another intersection and paused. A cross look flashed over Rarity’s features at the sight of four identical pathways branching off in every direction.

“Oh confound it… Pardon my language darling,” she added sheepishly, noticing the shocked look Fluttershy was giving her. “I just don’t see how anypony is expected to get around such a huge place as this! If and when Applejack gets a proper castle, remind me to install as many signs and directions as equinely possible.”

She looked up and down all the corridors splayed out all around her, and whined impatiently. “Oooh… was it three rights and a left…? A right and three lefts?”

Fluttershy fidgeted a little in the air. “Um… Rarity? Aren’t those the directions to the guest suites?”

Rarity started to scoff… then a look of dawning horror took hold. She sputtered, trying to find the right words that weren’t a string of even worse profanities, then groaned. “Well that’s just wonderful! How are we supposed to get to the library to meet up with Cadance now?” She kicked at the defenseless rug in anger.

“Well… Maybe they can help?”

Rarity looked up curiously towards Fluttershy. She was pointing down one of the adjoining hallways – towards a pair of ponies moving away from them.

Neither seemed to be dressed as guards, nor were they maids. Rarity frowned at them, something niggling in the back of her mind. That one on the right, in particular. Her tall stature and sparkling silver mane was definitely eye-catching. But why did that seem so uncannily familiar…?


~~***~~


Vanity felt wound tighter than a coiled spring. Letting Her Highness break into one castle had been stressful enough, but to breach two in the same day? She was sure that she had a perfectly good plan behind these risky actions, because Vanity was fairly sure that Aconita had not completely gone insane. But there always was the possibility…

Regardless of her mistress’s motives, here she was, striding down one of the innermost corridors of the Crystal Palace. Years of practice and training meant she could keep a perfectly nonchalant façade, but on the inside, she was chewing her nails.

But what could she say that undoubtedly Her Highness wasn't already keenly aware of? That the risk of a second bold breaking and entering in the same day was ridiculously dangerous? That she was needlessly putting herself in harm’s way?

Queen Aconita, however, would hear none of it.

Even as they walked side by side, Vanity chanced a sidelong glance at her queen. She’d served her faithfully for… all her life, really. Her earliest memories were of her bringing Aconita her meals. Her role may have changed dramatically over the years, but her understanding of the enigmatic queen had not evolved nearly as fast. What she’d done to deserve becoming Aconita’s most trusted agent, she’d never know, but she knew that even her lofty position would never place her close enough to know Aconita’s mind. She could speculate based on past experience, however.

Her Highness had discovered something in Canterlot, something so important that it had altered her plans completely. Of this, there was no doubt. And judging by the look in Aconita’s eyes, her mind was hard at work devising… something. Not that Vanity had the privilege of ever knowing until the moment Aconita’s plotting came to fruition, but she was used to that.

Plans within plans… Aconita was like a spider. Ever weaving, ever building… And whatever her masterwork might be, Vanity was far too simpleminded to ever grasp its scale. She’d come to terms with that. But this sudden bout of risk-taking… What could be driving Aconita so? Vanity had learned long ago not to waste too much mental power on trying to unravel the tangle that was Aconita’s scheming. But while Vanity was not and could not be Aconita’s mental equal, she had to admit that she did have some skills at her disposal.

Breaking into the Crystal Empire had been laughably easy. Too easy. Considering the history between her kind and the princess of this land, one would think that precautions would be abundant. Yet, there’d been none. Not one sensory spell, or ward, or even some homebrewed folksy deterrent, like burning sage or some such nonsense. The gates to her kingdom were practically thrown open wide to her kind. And that did not bode well. Surely Princess Cadance wouldn’t just leave her guard down.

Aconita would not hear of Vanity’s concerns, of course. So, she would just have to be on guard and follow Her Highness’s lead.

Still, she had more than ample concerns.

“My lady,” Vanity said, speaking up for the first time in hours. Aconita glanced slightly her way, just enough to show she was listening. “Is it wise to reuse the same disguise so often? These ponies are dull-witted, yes, but sooner or later…”

She was, of course, referring to Aconita’s insistence on reusing the same conspicuous form since she’d arrived in Equestria; that of a tall, dark mare with long, strikingly silver hair. It was not subtle at all and considering the boldness of her actions, continuing to reuse it was bordering on brazen disregard for safety.

“It is fine, Vanity,” Aconita dismissed. “It still has a use, I think.”

Vanity tried not to frown. Plans within plans…


~~***~~


Rarity slunk to the side of a pillar, one of many lining the hallway. She peered around it only far enough to peek out with one eye, exposing no more of herself than she had to.

“There’s definitely something off about those two,” Rarity whispered with confidence.

Fluttershy crept along behind her, looking apprehensive. Not at the unknown duo, but instead eying Rarity herself. She could see the glint in her eye. A mystery was afoot. Oh dear…

Rarity stroked her chin, thinking. “Hmm… well, they obviously aren’t guards, seeing as they have no uniforms. Maids or any other staff are out, as well. Hmm…”

“Maybe they’re guests, too?” Fluttershy offered. She was far, far less intrigued by the mystery pair.

Rarity hummed for a moment, then carefully crept out from around her hiding place, darted across the hall, and assumed a new position. A moment later, she took hold of Fluttershy and levitated her over as well.

“I thought of that,” she said while Fluttershy righted herself. “But when last we retired to our rooms for a quick nap, I remember seeing guards posted at only two doors: yours and mine. That would lead me to believe that nopony else was occupying the remaining suites. Which, my dear Fluttershy, can only mean one thing!”

“… That they just arrived?” Fluttershy offered.

That put a kink in Rarity’s stride. She faltered, considering that. “I… suppose that is a possibility. Oh! But when we arrived, Cadance had us escorted! These two are alone!”

Fluttershy bit her lip. Not because what Rarity was saying might have made sense, but because she wasn’t exactly okay with this entire situation. Should they really be suspicious of every single pony they met? Fluttershy knew that changelings could be anywhere, but… was seeing bad ponies in everypony really such a good thing? “Um… maybe we should just… ask them?”

Rarity paused again, pulled up short. She blinked, then blustered quietly. “Well… I… I suppose we could try that, yes.” She tried not to sound miffed, and did an admirable job of it.

Fluttershy sighed with relief. It really didn’t do to be suspicious of everypony.


~~***~~


“My Lady.”

Aconita glanced down at Vanity, who kept pace with her. She was looking dead ahead, but there was a razor sharp glint in her eye now.

“We are being followed,” she informed her liege.

“Yes, I know.”

Vanity glanced at her for an instant, than away. She did not question her further and instead fell into a very reserved silence indeed.


~~***~~
	

With much chagrin – and a slight feeling of a spoiled foal being denied a favorite treat – Rarity trotted out from her hiding place. Perhaps she had gotten a little carried away with the thrill of a mystery. But there really was something nagging at her about that mare ahead of her, something more than just her detective novel sense going off.

The whole time she trotted up behind the slow-moving pair, she pondered it. Dark blue coat, silver mane, tall stature. Was she perhaps seeing a little too much Princess Luna in her? Yet that didn’t sound right to her. There was something else, something way more pressing.

Dark blue coat… silver mane…

Rainbow…

It hit her like a slap to the face. In the wake of the Summer Sun Celebration, had Rainbow not given them a description of her captor? A blue-coated, silver-maned, tall mare who wasn’t actually a mare?

The realization brought her to a dead halt and her heart to a frightened stutter. Just ten feet away from her, she’d come to realize, was a changeling queen, and likely, the very orchestrator of all the bad things happening in Equestria. And she’d nearly just blundered right up to her without a clue!

“Um… Excuse me…”

If Rarity wasn’t already white, she’d have just turned a very pale hue indeed. In her shock, she hadn’t noticed Fluttershy glide past her. Not until she’d called out, that is.

Worse, the disguised queen heard her.

Rarity watched, her pulse hiking up even more, as the tall, beautiful mare stopped, then turned to look over her shoulder with one steely eye.

Fluttershy had no idea. She hadn’t the foggiest clue who – or what – she’d just gained the attention of.


~~***~~


Vanity couldn’t believe it. Amazingly, unbelievably, two of the very ponies responsible for thwarting Her Highness Queen Chrysalis were standing right in front of her. Fluttershy and Rarity, she believed their names were.

Yes… the description matches.

And they’d just trotted right up to them, oblivious as can be! The opportunist in her couldn’t believe her luck!

But the realist/pessimist wasn’t nearly as jubilant. She’d read the invasion reports – everyone with any standing in the hives had. Six young mares, neither soldiers nor military experts of any caliber, defeated an entire swarm flight. An entire flight! At least a hundred drones, if not more, neutralized by a baker, a farmer, a weather pony, a tailor, a vet and a librarian. It’d taken a full third of the attacking force to subdue them, where otherwise the swarm had been met with barely any resistance of note.

Worse still, whatever information they tried to glean about these mysterious powerhouses amounted to little bits of daily observation and overheard gossip. Anything more official was elusive, even misleading at times. The pink one, for example, has simultaneously been connected with a rock farm – as ludicrous as that sounded – a troop of traveling gypsies, a defunct government experiment to harness the “power of Discord”, and no less than six families with extensive military and political ties rivalling the highest noble house in Equestria, three of which did not even exist.

Honestly, it reminded Vanity so much of trying to spy on a fellow changeling hive that it wasn’t funny. Not one bit. Because at the end of the day, it meant one thing; they knew next to nothing about what any of those six mares were really capable of if pressed into action, and that whatever higher power was shielding them knew their tricks, and was not to be trifled with.

And now here they were, face to face with two of them without a few thousand drones to better the odds. Granted, it was against the two most nonaggressive of the bunch, but still… Vanity was ill-inclined to find out just how nonaggressive they were.

The yellow one – Fluttershy – approached nervously, looking very unsure with herself. It could have been a ploy – Vanity wasn’t about to dismiss any possibility when it came to this one. Give them a puppy-dog face, then when they’re close, rip their throats out. A classic maneuver. Vanity would even be impressed if she tried it.

As she approached, Aconita turned around to face her. So, Vanity had no choice but to do the same, all the while noting every escape avenue in her immediate vicinity.

It was as she was taking stock of every door along the hallway that she noticed the look on the white one’s face.


~~***~~


What should she do? Rarity fretted on that very question for far too long. If she made a sudden grab for Fluttershy, how would Aconita react? As far as she knew, not favorably.

The most important thing at that moment was to get Fluttershy away from Aconita without making her suspicious. On top of that, there was the little matter of there being a changeling queen loose in the Crystal Palace. How that could have happened was a question for later, but when the time came, she’d be pondering it very long and hard.

Like she was trying to figure out how to save Fluttershy’s life.

Rarity cleared her throat as quietly as she could, and composed her expression into a carefully cheerful façade. She was used to putting on airs to win over prospective backers and charm potential customers. The only difference here was that failure to be convincing could result in a very swift end – and not of the financial kind.

Be calm, be collected… No need to fret, darling. You’re only dealing with a cold-blooded mastermind intent on Equestria’s defeat. There’s nothing to it! I hope. Just be charming! Dazzling!

She flashed her best smile and trotted forward, only a few strides behind Fluttershy. By now, the fraudulent pony had turned herself around to face the two of them. She really was tall, and slender as a model. Rarity had whole lines of dresses that would like absolutely stunning on her. But those eyes… they were cold as steel, and sharp as a dagger. Currently, she had her attention on Fluttershy, which Rarity counted as a small blessing. She wouldn’t have noticed Rarity’s realization.

Well… here goes nothing.


~~***~~


She knew. The white one most certainly knew. Vanity had seen the look of dawning comprehension before she’d wiped it away and replaced it with a smile.

As far as Vanity was concerned, this was now a worst case scenario. They were made, behind enemy lines, and with no clear cut avenue of escape out of the castle and no backup to count on.

In truth, Vanity had braced for the white one to sound the alarm. So when she instead broke into a smile and approached, her alarm went straight into overdrive. Could she be trying at a ploy? To goad Her Highness into a false sense of security before attempting to eliminate her herself? She certainly didn’t look the type, but neither did she look like one to face down the best the Court had to offer and live to tell the tale.

Was there the possibility that Aconita hadn’t noticed yet, either? There was a very real possibility, in fact. Too real to be ignored, even if the chances were a million to one. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control, setting Vanity on edge. If it was up to her, this entire encounter would be over with by now.

But it wasn’t, and the only thing that kept her from jumping to action preemptively, like any drone would in this situation, was a life-time’s worth of experience shadowing the one beside her. When it came to Aconita, the smallest actions could have the largest implications. To anyone else, turning around to meet an approaching group would mean nothing. But what Vanity saw was the spider spinning its web…


~~***~~


“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Rarity said with a false tone of cheer. “My friend and I seem to have gotten a little turned around, and we’re on something of a tight schedule. I swear they add a new wing every time we come to visit!”

She laughed – alone.

“I hate to be a pest,” she went on, undaunted, “but could we possibly trouble the two of you for directions?”

Aconita’s expression didn’t shift one iota. Rarity had seen stone busts with a greater range of emotion. It made it nigh impossible to decipher whether or not she was being as convincing as she prayed she was.

Then, Aconita opened her mouth. “Might it be the library you are looking for?” she asked.

Rarity faltered, but quickly quelled a series of warning bells chiming off in her head. “W-why yes indeed! What gave me away?”

For the first time, Aconita’s features moved. Her eyes shifted off of Rarity and towards Fluttershy’s front, and the bundle of fabric tucked against her chest. For some reason, that look made the hair on the back of Rarity’s neck stand on end.

“I was hoping to find my way there, myself,” Aconita said. “You see, I have recently stumbled upon something of a conundrum. Perhaps,” she added thoughtfully, “you two can help me.”

Rarity stifled the urge to swallow. Her throat was feeling oddly dry all of a sudden.

Fluttershy, meanwhile, cocked her head thoughtfully. “You want us to help? Um, well… I’m really sorry but, there’s something really important we need to do first. But, um, maybe… after?”

Aconita glanced at her – and the book – again. “I’m afraid that won’t do. You see, my time is precious as well, and I have not the luxury to waste it.”

Fluttershy fidgeted, looking helpless. She glanced toward Rarity, then frowned at her. Rarity suddenly realized that her smile was getting a little big.

“Oh!” she said loudly, jumping, “Well, how about we find the library together?”

A plan was starting to come together in Rarity’s mind. Cadance would be in the library – and undoubtedly, so too would Shining Armor and a healthy contingent of bodyguards. If she could just get Aconita there, maybe their combined efforts could subdue her. Maybe she had a chance of getting out of this in one piece after all!

Aconita pondered her proposition for a moment.

Please, please, oh please Celestia, say yes…

“Very well,” Aconita said after a brief pause.

The relief nearly knocked Rarity on her rear. But she had to stay composed, at least for a little while longer. “Splendid! Then—”

“On one condition.”

Rarity paused mid-sentence. “And… that would be?” she asked, trying not to sound nervous.

“You answer my question,” Aconita said simply.

Rarity blinked. “That’s… all? I mean – certainly! Ask away!”

Aconita raised an eyebrow, causing Rarity to flinch internally. Dial it back, darling, dial it back…

“Very well, then,” Aconita said. “Then answer me this: where is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza?”

Again, Rarity hesitated. That seemed like an oddly simple question. What could she be up to?

“Oh,” spoke up Fluttershy. “Well, she was going to meet us in the library.”

For the first time, a smile grew across Aconita’s face. And it was perhaps one of the more unsettling ones Rarity had ever seen, even if it was small. “Then it seems we are indeed going in the same direction.”

Rarity smiled – externally, at least. “Then let us be on our way!”

And pray to Celestia Shining Armor’s as protective as I hope…


~~***~~


What was the white one up to? Vanity pondered the entire conversation as they all turned to trot down the hallway together. There was no mistake that she’d somehow recognized Aconita for who she was, but now the big question was what she planned to do about it.

Was she planning on springing a trap on them? Perhaps, placing her hopes on Mi Amore Cadenza’s guard detail, or perhaps the capabilities of the alicorn herself? Rarity seemed far too eager to guide them in that direction for there to not be something up her sleeve.

And Aconita, interestingly enough, seemed much too eager to go along with her. Surely the same risks had crossed her mind as well. Yet she was still going? Once again, Vanity found herself entertaining questions about what had brought on this reckless behavior in her queen. What had she found in that castle?

The new group set off together, but Vanity made sure to lag just a step or two behind. Not far enough to rouse suspicion, but enough so that she could keep an eye on these two infamous mares with as little movement as possible. One wrong move – one hoof out of place – and she’s see to it that there were two less ponies trotting around the castle.


~~***~~


“Oof!”

Rainbow bounced off the side of the Crystal Palace like a ping pong ball. She reached up to massage her bruised shoulder and throw the window she’d just tried to barge through a dirty look.

As it turned out, even the windows were made of crystal. Go figure.

Where in the hay do these ponies FIND all this stuff?

Rainbow continued to scowl while rubbing her shoulder. She sized up the towering palace while glancing around for a chink in its armor. So far, she’d worked her way from the top to the middle, with absolutely no success. Every window? Bolted shut. Ever door on every balcony? Locked up tighter than Applejack’s cider cellar.

Even though the rumbling thunder overhead gave plenty of reason why, Rainbow still felt unjustly thwarted. Could just one thing go her way today?!

And then the rain squall hit.

“Really?!” Rainbow shouted at the sky. Thunder rumbled contemptuously back. Rainbow let out the loudest “ugh!” of her life and turned to leave. She had to find a way in, sooner or later. Applejack was counting on her! Applejack…

click…

“Hurry,” said a voice from an unseen source.

Rainbow paused. Over the beating rain, she thought she’d just misheard. But then she turned her head, and to her disbelief, she found the door she’d just bashed into swinging outward towards her.

Rainbow wasted no time in jumping through the opening, into the pleasantly warm and very dry interior of the Crystal Palace.

She found herself in a small, unlit room. White linens draped unused furniture all around, turning the room into a sea of tents. From somewhere in the darkness, a clock ticked the time away.

Rainbow shook herself like a dog, ridding herself of the clinging icy rain, then straightened up. “FINALLY,” she exclaimed in complete exasperation. “Ugh, you have no idea how long I’ve been stuck out there!”

She turned around, smiling appreciatively. “So thanks for letting me in,” she said.

When she turned in the direction of the voice she’d heard, however, she found only a small table with an unused vase sitting on it. Rainbow frowned, then looked around. But in the darkness, it was hard to see anything at all. “Uh… hello?”

Across the room, the door squeaked. She whipped around, just as it swiftly closed, leaving itself only barely ajar. “Hurry!” called a voice from the other side, a mare’s voice.

Rainbow blinked, then quickly crossed the room and burst out into a large, well-lit hall. An empty hall.

“What the hay…?” she said, looking around. 

It was as she turned her head to look over her shoulder that she just caught sight of movement. Far down the hall, just in front of a huge stained glass window, she just thought she saw somepony dart around a corner. All she witnessed was the faintest blur of pink, and then it was gone.

“Hey! Wait up!” Rainbow shouted, then zoomed off down the hall. Whoever this pony was, they were fast, that was for sure. When Rainbow rounded the corner, she once again found the hallway deserted. But this time, there was only one way to go: further down, and somehow that mysterious pony had completely outstripped her pace and was nowhere to be seen, again.

So, frowning, Rainbow set off as fast as she could in pursuit of her unknown benefactor.


~~***~~


The walk through the castle was probably one of the most nerve-wracking times in Rarity’s history, and being no stranger to excruciatingly tight deadlines, that was saying something.

On her left at all times was Aconita, an enemy of Equestria. Despite her hard countenance, she seemed rather at ease, much to Rarity’s relief. She continued to cast her gaze further down the hall, and while her stride was quick, she did not seem to be in too much of a rush, despite her earlier claims.

Rarity’s charade must have paid off, then. It gave her a private feeling of accomplishment to pull the wool over the eyes of a changeling, but she constantly reminded herself that she was far from out of the woods.

In the back of her mind, she worried nonstop. Why was Aconita here, of all places? How had she been allowed to break in? And why did she want to know where Cadance was? Could she be under orders from Queen Chrysalis to finish what she started?! That didn’t sound like something that monster would do, but one could never be too sure. But what else could be done? Rarity could lead them on a wild goose chase around the castle and pray for some kind of intervention, but how long would that take before Aconita got suspicious?

The answer was always the same, no matter the question asked; Rarity didn’t know. And that uncertainty was starting to kill her. Hopefully, it wouldn’t in a more literal sense.

She made the best of her situation, though. The entire time they walked, she continued to hold up a one-sided conversation, more talking at Aconita than with her. Anything and everything that crossed her mind that was worth chatting about. Fashion, gossip, weather, amusing anecdotes and anything else she could think of. 

“And then he finally told Fancy Pants,” Rarity giggled, “he said, ‘Monsieur, you can take the coffee, but leave the tarte tatin alone!’”

Fluttershy started giggling profusely, which of course brought Rarity to greater fits of laughter. “Oh, I love that story,” Fluttershy laughed.

“It is a classic,” Rarity giggled, then turned her attention casually in Aconita’s direction.

Nothing. Not so much as a grin. Not even for her Fancy Pants story? I don’t think that’s ever happened before.

Rarity stifled her frown and lapsed into silence. She’d thrown everything she had at this mare, yet she’d summarily ignored every single word she’d said…

“And did he?”

Rarity gave a little start and turned. To her surprise, she found Aconita looking at her with those sharp, unknowable eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tarte tatin,” Aconita indicated with a note of annoyance.

Rarity blinked, still feeling thrown for a loop. “Oh. Oh! Um, yes, I believe he did. And I doubt he’s ever been welcomed back to that particular establishment, now that I think about it.”

“Hmm…”

Rarity didn’t hide her frown now. Aconita turned away again, just as stone-faced as ever. But had she actually been listening the whole time? And not even Rarity’s big guns could get a single laugh, or any stirring of emotion out of her?

The longer Rarity spent in her presence, the more she felt this… wall around Aconita. A mote around a heavily fortified castle without means of crossing. It was like nothing she said or did could stimulate any sort of reaction. It was very disconcerting to see.

Try as she might, Rarity just could not make sense of this mare. She was so… blank. Rarity was usually very good at reading ponies; she had to be to figure out the absolute perfect attire for them. Not just color coordination, but personality and style, too. But this changeling… It was like there was nothing but a cold, calculating machine behind those eyes that saw the world only in numbers and values. Whatever expression she showed, it was calculated. The smile earlier? Fabricated in its entirety. Whatever this mare showed, whatever expression she bent her features into, it was all for some specific purpose, and not born from an emotional root at all.

Some part of Rarity found that very unsettling. But a vocal minority in the back of her mind just found it… sad. Aconita, she was starting to realize, didn’t feel anything. How could anypony live like that?

And then there was Agave, a scared yet hope-filled little filly who was so different from her mother. The wonder she’d had in her eyes. The fear, the uncertainty… And the way she’d described her mother to them all, eyes so full of terror, and something else. Something only a daughter could feel for a mother.

Rarity didn’t know what to make of it all. How could something so unfeeling be related to something brimming with so much heart? Could this be what Applejack is destined to become?

Well she for one wasn’t going to stand for it! One Aconita was more than this world needed, thank you very much!

Rarity turned to face forward. Heart full of determination now, she made to speed up a little when she noticed a change in the hallway ahead.

Instead of the uniform crystal walls continuing on in a uniform direction, on Rarity’s right, a divot appeared. That divot turned into a ceiling-high vestibule flanked by pillars as clear as glass. Between two, and hanging over the doorway was a banner bearing the coat of arms for the Crystal Empire, with a large open tome superimposed over it.

“Ah! Here we are!” Rarity said, putting on an extra dash of enthusiasm. She and Fluttershy were almost in the clear! “The Imperial Library! Well, it took us a while, but we made it! Now to find Princess Cadance!”

Rarity started to trot forward, more than ready to put this nasty business behind her, when something else caught her attention.

As she drew closer, she started to spot a number of ponies arranged in a half circle around the entrance to the library. The soft light from the overhead chandeliers glinted off of their crystal armor and the wicked edge on their more conventional – but no less deadly – steel spears.

Every single one of them stood at attention, alert and waiting. And the moment one spotted Rarity, he nudged his neighbor and whispered in his ear.

“That’s strange,” Fluttershy mumbled, coming to a stop beside Rarity. “What is everypony doing here?”

Behind her, Vanity stood tense and alert. But Aconita’s eyes narrowed as she took in each individual pony arrayed against her.

“Vanity,” she said in a soft undertone.

“My lady?”

“Be ready.”

“Of course,” Vanity responded with a respectful bow. When she straightened up, she casually tilted her head to one side until her neck went pop.


~~***~~


By the time Rarity and Fluttershy were halfway to the blockade of guards, every one of them had turned to look in their direction. Some were even starting to break formation to arrange themselves in a better position to meet their new visitors.

Rarity and Fluttershy both approached with welcoming smiles until they were close enough to speak. “Good evening, gentlecolts,” Rarity said with much relief. “I do believe that Princess Cadance is expecting us.”

One of the guards approached, a scowl on his face. “I’m sorry, ladies, but there’s been a change of plans. As per Princess Celestia’s orders, the two of you are to be taken into protective custody. The two of you are to come with us immediately.”

Rarity blinked, taken aback. “I… Excuse me? Protective custody?”

Did that mean that Celestia knew of Aconita’s intentions? Had she been tipped off about her coming? That had to be it; what other reason was there?

Rarity scowled at the lot of them. “Well, you have atrocious timing,” Rarity huffed. “Where were you ten minutes ago?”

The stallion in front of her paused. “Beg pardon?”

“I’ve been expecting you,” Rarity prompted. When the guard continued to give her a nonplussed look, she started darting her eyes over her shoulder – in Aconita’s direction.

The guard frowned uncomprehendingly at her, looked up – and immediately caught an acidic green dart of magic between the eyes.

Arcs of green lights skittered across his eyes, over his temples, and around to the back of his head, where they coalesced and launched into the air again, striking another pony in the head before repeating the same process, over and over and over, faster than anypony could jump out of the way.

In under five seconds, a whole platoon of guards stood as still as statues, eyes glazed over with a green glow.

“That was not wise, little unicorn.”

Rarity felt a cold chill run down her spine. Behind her, four hooves thumped against the carpet, drawing nearer.

Fluttershy, totally confused, turned around, and immediately turned very, very pale.

“I wondered why you were so cordial. Perhaps you thought I had not noticed? I had hoped you were brighter than that. A pity; it seems the unicorn tribe’s famed intellect was just a legend after all.”

A shadow slid passed Rarity, and when she turned towards it, she gasped.

Aconita had shed her blue fur coat, though her silver mane remained. Now she stood before her in all her terrible, towering glory, her crooked horn still fizzling with residual magic.

She stalked pass them, barely turning an eye in their direction. Instead, she approached the mass of ensnared stallions.

“So allow me to make myself perfectly clear. You have something I want. Until such time that you don’t, you will continue to be cooperative. If you don’t…”

Aconita stopped in front of the first frozen guard. Her horn hummed to life, and as it did so, her fanged maw spread open wide.

From each stallion, a pink aura peeled itself away from their forms and drifted high into the air. Each found one another, combined into a single mass overhead, and then began to drift in Aconita’s direction. At the same time, she began to inhale.

In an astonishingly short time, the gaseous aurora was sucked down Aconita’s throat, until not even a mote remained in the air.

The stallions all groaned, and toppled limply to the floor. Physically none had changed, but each one had a pallid look about them.

Aconita let out a sigh of relish. Her eyes flashed as she turned around – literally flashed with a burning, fulminating green light. 

“There will be consequences,” she finished.

Both Rarity and Fluttershy stared, ashen faced, at the heap of moaning bodies on the floor. “What… what did you do to them?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Nothing they won’t recover from,” Aconita answered. “And if you behave, nothing you need concern yourselves with. I only drained them enough to be incapacitated.”

The tip of her tongue poked through her lips and ran from one side of her mouth to the other. “But it is a difficult thing, stopping short. I daresay next time, I won’t be able to muster such self-control.”

Rarity moved a little closer to Fluttershy, who instinctively huddled against her. Her heart continued to race fearfully, and she tried to suppress her trembling. “W-well then. What do you want with us?” Rarity questioned while trying to keep her voice even.

Aconita’s eyes lingered on them like she hadn’t heard her speak. For a moment, there was a spark of something new in those eyes; a predatory hunger, yearning to be sated. But it passed – not soon enough for Rarity’s taste – and the queen once more composed herself. But it obviously took some effort. “I have a question that needs answering. And what I need to answer it is Mi Amore Cadenza, and that book you’re holding.”

Fluttershy squeaked and looked down, as if only just then realizing she had her hooves full, and she looked at it like it’d just sprouted fangs and started snapping at her.

“Now then,” Aconita said. “Give it to—”

“Hey cheese grater! Heads up!”

Aconita blinked, turned, and just saw the streak of rainbow-colored lightning streaking at her face.

Her horn came to life, erupting with newly acquired strength. Green fire exploded forth, forming a wall of light in front of her face, just as two pegasus hooves crashed into it at mach one.

The sonic boom that chased Rainbow Dash down the hall was enough to blow Vanity clean off her hooves and flatten Rarity and Fluttershy to the floor. And even with Aconita’s newfound burst of strength, to her disbelief, the impact slammed into her with enough force to push her back across the floor, one foot, two feet, at last stopping almost a full body length away from where she’d started.

Rainbow’s tail wind blew past them, sending Aconita’s mane and tail aflutter.

“You,” Aconita said through tight lips.

“Hey,” Rainbow growled through a savage smirk. “You remind me of a nag I’m gonna punch.”

Aconita glared back. Her shield had held, but to her further astonishment, a long ragged crack ran diagonally across it. How did she do that? No pegasus should possess that much strength.

Rainbow pushed off of Aconita’s shield roughly, flipping backward a few yards before landing on the ground again.

When she landed, Aconita looked her over. In particular, she noted Rainbow’s unsinged hooves, despite them coming into full and prolonged contact with her barrier.

She scowled at them for a moment, then returned her attention to Rainbow’s face. She straightened up and turned towards her properly. “What do you think you’re doing here?” she asked.

“I could ask the same about you,” Rainbow remarked. “The Crystal Empire sure seems out of your way.”

“That,” Aconita retorted coolly, “is none of your business, little pegasus.”

Rainbow bristled. “Fine, be that way.  Then let’s skip straight to the part where I mop every single floor of this castle with your sorry hide!”

Aconita glared, her horn sparking. “By all means. Try.”

Rainbow and Aconita squared off, hackles raised and stances at the ready. Aconita’s horn crackled ominously, a dangerously icy look in her eyes. Rainbow’s wings flexed, twitching at the air. 

A short distance away, Rarity and Fluttershy both righted themselves and cast disbelieving looks in Rainbow’s direction. “Is… is that…,” Fluttershy muttered worriedly. “But… b-but what is she doing here? And…”

“And where is Applejack,” Rarity finished for her quietly.

Rainbow must have heard her, but she didn't react. Her ear twitched in her direction, but she did not turn to meet the searching look being drilled into the back of her head. And the more Rarity stared at her, the more she got the impression that Rainbow was intentionally hiding her face from her. “I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said without turning around. “You guys alright?”

Rarity frowned. Something in Rainbow’s voice bothered her. But she set it aside. “Yes, thanks to your timely arrival.”

Rainbow smiled. Some of the dark cloud hanging over her dissipated. “Best news I’ve had for a while. You two wait here; I’ll deal with Buggy Mcbugface.”

Aconita raised a haughty, highly annoyed eyebrow at her. 

From the far wall, Vanity picked herself up from the very embarrassing plot-over-teakettle position she’d been left in. Then she zeroed in on Rainbow, who was facing the other way.

The telltale mane was a dead giveaway. Rainbow Dash herself was here now. And she was definitely not the nonaggressive type.

But what was she doing here? Reports said she rarely if ever left Queen Applejack’s side! Did that mean that she was here, too?

But currently, the most distressing thing on Vanity’s mind was what she’d just witnessed. That pegasus had just pushed Aconita back, even so soon after absorbing so much love. It wasn’t the sheer, unmitigated audacity of the act that bothered her, but rather the implications. How in the world could some pegasus do such a thing?

In front of her, the same question seemed to be rattling around Aconita’s head. She observed her barrier, even as it splintered and dissipated. She eyed Rainbow. Then, her entire demeanor changed at the drop of a hat.

“Curious,” Aconita said as she straightened up. Her expression arranged itself into one of speculative intrigue, her seething anger vanishing nearly instantly. “Tell me, Rainbow. How did you do that just now?”

Rainbow cocked her head and gave Aconita a questioning look. “Uh, it’s called a punch?”

“Not that,” Aconita said back. Again, Rainbow had expected annoyance, but her attitude remained unchanged. Worse, Aconita’s stare was starting to get uncomfortable.

With a flick of her horn, Aconita summoned an identical dome of hardened magic, the same one Rainbow had crashed into. Then, she deliberately angled it downward, until it came into contact with the carpet at their hooves.

Everypony heard the angry sizzling, and they all watched with wide eyes as the barrier ate clean through the fabric like it were made of acid, and then proceed to scorch and scar the hard crystal underneath.

“You touched this with your bare hooves,” Aconita pointed out. “And yet you are unharmed. How did you do this?”

Rainbow stared at the damage Aconita’s barrier had caused, then slowly panned down to her own hooves. She noted how they were uninjured in any way; not a single hair was out of place.

“I see,” Aconita said, causing Rainbow to snap her eyes back up. Aconita was still giving her that speculative look, and it was starting to annoy Rainbow.

“So you did not notice it, yourself. Interesting. Perhaps all the time spent mingling with Queen Applejack and her hive has… acclimated you to our magicks. Or… perhaps there is something else at work here.”

Rainbow really wasn’t liking the way Aconita looked at her now. It was like she was trying to dissect her with her eyes.

“That is the question I intend to answer,” said somepony else.

Aconita and Rainbow both turned in unison towards the doors to the library. They found the thick double doors parted just enough to allow a pony to step out. That pony now stood in front of them, looking more exhausted than anypony had seen her for a long time.

“Cadance!” Rarity cried out, sounding relieved. Then immediately she turned back towards Aconita, looking worried. “Um… maybe now is not a good time.”

“It’s okay, Rarity,” Cadance said calmly. “I was hoping Queen Aconita would be here.”

Rarity gave her a truly confused look in response. “You… I beg your pardon, but did you just say you wanted Aconita to be here?”

“Against my better judgment,” came a voice from over Cadance’s shoulder.

If anypony could look more tired than Cadance, it was her husband. Deep bags hung under Shining Armor’s eyes, and the traces of unshaven blue stubble darkened his jawline. “Call me crazy, but I doubt somepony like her would cooperate with us.”

Aconita raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She just looked at Cadance, who met her measured stare with one of her own.

“Surely you had to wonder why it was so easy to slip into the palace,” Cadance pointed out. “Trust me. If I hadn’t wanted you in here, you wouldn’t be right now.”

Aconita tilted her head curiously, looking down her nose at Cadance. “Then am I to believe this is a trap?” she asked calmly. “Because as you said, your countermeasures are down. It would be foal’s play to escape right now.”

“No, it’s not a trap,” Cadance said with a shake of her head. “But there was no other way.”

“No other way for what?”

“To ask for your help,” Cadance said.

Rarity, Fluttershy and Vanity all gaped at her in disbelief. Even Rainbow stared, shocked.

Aconita’s normally immaculate façade slipped for the first time. Her eyes widened in a look of uncharacteristic surprise before she smoothed it out again. “And what makes you think I would do such a thing?” she inquired. “The Court may have its sights set on Queen Applejack, but let us not forget that Her Highness Queen Chrysalis still holds a grudge over her defeat at your hooves. And Chrysalis’ word is still the law of the Court. So then, what makes you think I would cooperate with you?”

Cadance’s expression didn’t falter. “Because I think you’re here for other reasons besides the Court’s or Chrysalis’ orders.”

“That is a very large assumption to make, little princess.”

Cadance nodded. “It would be. And if I were a changeling, I daresay I’d never see through you. But I’m not. And the one thing that gave you away was your daughter.”

Aconita gave her a searching look. “How does Agave matter here?”

Cadance continued to meet her gaze. “Tell me; how did Agave make it all the way from the south to Equestria on her own? She’s just a little filly! And to do so and happen to make off with one of the changeling people’s most prized secrets, without the Court getting to her first?”

Aconita pursed her lips.

Rainbow glanced at her, a frown on her face, then she looked towards Cadance. “Uh, Ca-”

The alicorn princess raised a silencing hoof without turning away.

“You let her go,” Cadance said. “You let her take the Corastone.”

Aconita’s eyes narrowed coldly. “And why would I do that?”

Cadance shook her head. “That, I don’t know. Maybe you wanted to warn Applejack vicariously through Agave. Maybe you’re making some sort of power play in the Court. Or… maybe you also wanted to know if there is a better way. I don’t know. But I do know one thing for sure. The Changeling Court’s objectives are not yours.”

Rainbow looked at Cadance, then over to Aconita. Everypony followed suit, and soon everypony, Vanity included, was looking at Aconita.

“What are you saying, darling?” Rarity spoke up at last, laughing nervously. “Isn’t she the one that attacked Ponyville a few days back?”

“No,” Cadance said. Aconita’s expression soured, then softened again. “Because changelings don’t make a big flashy show of things, do they?”

“Cadance is right,” spoke up Rainbow.

Now everypony turned towards her. Rainbow frowned, looking down. “It’s… it’s not the Court,” she said. “It’s somepony else.”

“Somepony… what?” Rarity said, quickly feeling turned around. “I’m sorry, but I am starting to feel like I missed something!”

Even Cadance gave Rainbow a searching look. “How do you know?” she asked.

Again, Cadance found herself subjected to that look from Rainbow. It wasn’t a glare, but… there was an accusation in those eyes. A very angry accusation.

“Oh,” Cadance said after a moment. “Then… you went to my house.”

Rainbow nodded. “So did Twilight and Applejack. Twilight’s the one that figured it out, but before we could get out of Canterlot…”

She trailed off, looking pained. She shook her head, then started again. “She said… she said you knew Carnation,” Rainbow said.

From across the room, Rarity snorted. “Pfft! Darling, how could Cadance know Applejack’s real mother? If that were the case, surely she’d have come forward with something like that a long time ago! Isn’t that right Cadance?”

She turned expectantly towards Cadance… only to get silence in response.

As the hush persisted, it was broken only by Shining Armor, whose eyes had turned extraordinarily sharp given is current condition. “Wait, what happened to Twiley? Where is she right now?”

While Rainbow explained the events on the train, Rarity continued to look at Cadance, who wasn’t meeting her gaze. “… Princess? Is… is what Rainbow said true? Did you… did you know Carnation?” she asked.

Cadance sighed and looked down. Rainbow trailed off, despite Shining Armor’s intense stare, and looked towards her too.

Cadance pinched her eyes shut for a moment, then nodded. “I… did, yes,” she admitted, at long last. “A very, very long time ago.”

Rarity’s eyes grew huge as her brain tried to process that new bit of information. Fluttershy, too, looked astonished, and at more of a loss for words than usual.

“So you admit it, then!” Rainbow shot. “You’ve been keeping this a secret all along! Why, huh?”

Cadance gave an irritated sigh. “I’m sure that conversation would have gone over well as it stands right now. ‘Oh hey Applejack, how’s it going? Oh, by the way, your mother exploited me to get to my family’s secrets for her own gain when I was a little foal! Neat, huh?’” She turned to give Rainbow a pleading look. “She’d just rediscovered her mother, Rainbow. What do you think it would have done to her?”

Rainbow glared. “Hey, she’s a lot tougher than you think! She deserved to know that you and Carnation were friends!”

Cadance nodded at that. “I know, and I agree. But I wasn’t going to just drop a bombshell like that on her and walk away with no answers to give!”

Cadance sighed, then dropped her gaze. “No… there is something I have to do for her first. Something I’ve been searching for for years.”

“And what would that be?” Rainbow challenged.

Cadance looked up. “Carnation’s legacy. The secret to how she regained her heart. And ultimately, the way we will save Applejack.”

Rainbow’s eyes grew huge. Everypony looked towards Cadance with looks of shock and surprise, but none were as profound as Rainbow’s.

“T-then what are we waiting for?” Rainbow said quickly, springing up. “Let’s do it already!”

Cadance nodded, then looked towards the floor. Her eyes came to a rest on a bundle of silk fabric wrapped around a book-shaped object, unceremoniously discarded in the commotion earlier. She started to light her horn, when somepony else beat her to the punch.

A bright green aura enveloped the parcel, then swiftly levitated it into the air. It darted upward, passed over Rainbow’s shoulders, and came to a rest in the airspace beside a towering changeling queen.

Aconita met Rainbow’s surprised look coolly. Her expression remained unchanged. Without a word, she strode off in the direction of the library, passed Cadance and a very wary Shining Armor, and silently slipped through the doors, followed only moments later by Vanity.

Cadance watched her pass, then broke into a smile. “Come on, everypony. We have a mystery to solve.”


~~***~~


The library of the Crystal Empire was dark. Most of the lamps had been extinguished, seeing as visitation hours were long since over. Only one table sat with a lantern in the center-most point of the aisles, where all the wings converged. Through the dim, flickering light, it was as if the many rows of bookshelves simply went on into oblivion, vanishing from sight into inky blackness.

The table, everypony soon saw, was strewn with papers, books, and half-unrolled scrolls. The sheer volume of reading material had spilled over in places and had come to litter the floor. Some of the parchment was brand new, still stiff and flat, aside from inked writing upon its surface. Others were crumpled and yellow with age. Some were nothing but torn scraps of paper with but a single line scrawled upon them.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Cadance apologized sheepishly. “But I had to make sure it was all here, and I didn’t have time to organize.”

“I beg your pardon,” Rarity spoke up dubiously, “but all of what?”

For some reason, Shining Armor huffed and rolled his eyes. Cadance shot him a look, but he neatly avoided it. He was more preoccupied with keeping an eye on the two ‘ponies’ in the lead.

“All of the information I could piece together on Carnation’s methods,” Cadance said. She quickly stepped up to the table, and with a flick of her horn, she shuffled a number of sheets of paper into a neat pile, clearing a space. No sooner did she do so than Aconita deposited the silk-wrapped book in front of her, passing around to her other side as she did so.

Cadance gave her an appreciative glance, then returned all her focus on what lay in front of her“There. Now, thanks to all of you, I can finally do just that. I hope…”

Rainbow looked around skeptically. “Uh, not to be a killjoy, but… what exactly are you looking for in some old book?”

Cadance looked up at her. “This isn’t just some old book,” she said. “This is one of the only surviving copies of the history of the Crystal Empire - maybe the only surviving copy, given Sombra’s censorship.”

Rainbow gave her an even more confused look. “Yeah, okay, thanks for clearing that up.”

Rarity jabbed her in the ribs with a hoof and shot her a disapproving look. “Rainbow’s tactlessness aside,” she said, “I fail to see how the history of the Crystal Empire would have any bearing on the changelings.”

While most muttered their agreement, Aconita remained pensively silent and watchful. Only Shining Armor payed her any mind, but he rarely took his eyes of the deceitful creature in the first place.

Cadance gave them all a mildly annoyed look as she magically peeled away the silk wrappings. “Please give me one second, okay?”

Rainbow frowned, then glanced towards Aconita. “And… remind me again why we need her?”

Aconita gave her a chilly look, but again kept her comments to herself.

“In a minute,” Cadance said distractedly. She’d just pulled the last of the silken fabric away from the old book at the bundle’s heart.

And it was old. The wretched thing was curled like a dried leaf. The tome’s cover was so faded and stained that little of its original color remained. Only a few blotches of navy blue still clung to the surface. The rest of it was faded and brown with age, along with copious other unnamable stains acquired across countless ages. There was just enough left for everypony to make out a large blue heart wreathed in golden wings, but the title was long since gone.

Cadance breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of it. “Good. Still in one piece.”

Rainbow, however, gave it a dubious look. “And… the secret to saving Applejack is in that?”

Another jab in the ribs, courtesy of Rarity. Luckily, Cadance didn’t notice.

“Part of it, anyway,” Cadance said. “If I’m correct, there’s something in here I overlooked.”

As she talked, her horn started to glow. The pages in front of her very carefully started to turn, one by one, so as not to damage them. It was excruciatingly slow, and soon Rainbow took to pacing impatiently.

Rarity eyed her annoyed friend carefully, then turned towards Cadance. “Um… pardon my interruption, but… you said you've been looking into this for several years?” she asked.

Cadance nodded distractedly. “Well… ever since Carnation disappeared, actually. I’d only known her for a short while before that. She was my foalsitter, you see.” She paused, a distant look on her face. “My parents were always busy. Any time I saw them was when they had something for me to do. So… I didn’t really have any friends when I was little. Not counting the personable tutor. Then, one day she just… turned up.”

Cadance paused for a moment, then continued working through ancient page after ancient page. “It wasn’t hard for her to win over my parents. And… me, I suppose. She was my first real, true friend. Not at first, but… eventually.”

“What do you mean, not at first?” Fluttershy asked, speaking up for the first time in a long time. She had a concerned look on her face, like she was weighing whether or not to go give Cadance a big comforting hug.

Cadance gave a sad little smile. “Well… like I said earlier. Carnation used me. She was after my family’s legacy - the history of the Crystal Empire, which we’d kept safeguarded all these centuries. Once she got what she was after… she vanished.”

“That’s awful,” Fluttershy said.

Cadance nodded. “It was. But then, a few months later, she came back. But when she did, she was a completely different pony.” Again she slowed in her scanning to look up at the group. The magic of her horn and the glowing pages lit up her face in the darkness, more than the candle could manage.

“Carnation never told me what happened, or what she did. I was only a foal, after all; I doubt she thought I would understand. But… there was one hint she gave me, long ago.”

Abruptly the pages came to a stop, and Cadance put her hoof down on a page. “And here it is.”

Everypony grouped up, crowding around the table to peer at the open book. In so doing, Aconita and Rainbow Dash almost missed the fact that they were shoulder-to-knee. Almost. Cadance had to stifle a sigh when the two took a big step away from each other.

Personal space secured, Rainbow went back to peering at the book. What she saw only gave her more questions than answers.

“Uh… is that the Crystal Heart?” she asked.

“It sure is,” Rarity noted, sounding just as confused.

“I thought so, too,” Fluttershy mumbled.

“That’s right,” Cadance said. “This is the only clue Carnation gave me. All these years I’ve been trying to figure out what she meant by it.”

She looked down, looking lost in thought. “Had she tried to create a new one? Considering the properties of the Crystal Heart, and the changelings’ insatiable need for love, having a replica might just solve that hunger. But every time I tried to recreate it, it always ended in failure. Nothing I did worked.”

Then she looked up. “But then Agave appeared.”

She was looking at Aconita, who met her gaze with a sidelong look. Still she said nothing, reserving her words instead.

“She brought the final clue,” Cadance said with a smile. “The Corastone.”

She immediately went back to the book, nearly burying her nose in the paper. She squinted, trying to make out the faded writing. “As I said earlier, this book is probably one of the few surviving copies of the history of the Crystal Empire. What I didn’t say is that this, right here, is the first volume ever printed. In this book, it describes how the Crystal Empire came to be.

“In this book, it describes how a group of young ponies – who would go on to form the high houses here in the early Crystal Empire – found a mystical artifact deep in the Frozen North. Its power was so great that it cast aside the eternal snow and ice of this realm and created a vibrant bastion. Everypony who basked in the warmth of the Crystal Heart felt uplifted, their hearts filled with happiness and hope.

“But there is a passage here, in this version only. And it describes where the Crystal Heart was found in greater detail.”

Cadance put her hoof down again, indicating one faded, almost illegible line of text amongst many. “Here. According to this book, it mentions how six young stallions, seeking a land beyond the political turmoil of a fledgling Equestria, came to find shelter in a cave at the base of the mountains far to the north of here. As they entered the cave, it is said they spied a guiding light, which lead them deeper into the cave.

“They ventured so far in that soon even the wind of the blizzard that drove them to seek shelter could not reach their ears. There, in the deepest chasm beneath the mountain, they discovered a pile of ancient bones – and a glowing stone in the shape of a heart.”

Cadance straightened up, a sad look on her face. “Then… it really did end like that, after all.”

Aconita sighed ever so slightly. “So it would seem.”

Everypony else looked back and forth between themselves. “Uh… how what ended?” Rainbow asked.

Cadance looked back at her, seemingly surprised that she didn’t understand, then looked down. Instead of her speaking, however, it was Aconita that raised her voice.

“The story of our Maker, and the one that broke her heart,” Aconita said without inflection. “Queen Amora and Duke Crescendo.”

Cadance nodded. “According to the few changelings I talked with who remembered the legend, the Maker left the south some ten thousand years ago.”

“What the legend does not describe,” Aconita added, “was that Queen Amora – the first queen to ever live – left Tierra Del Sur in order to track down Crescendo. Finding him was her single driving obsession. And… it would appear she found him.”

Rainbow scratched her head. “Uh… you’re going to have to back up a second there. Who did what now?”

Aconita sighed loudly. Instead, Cadance spoke up.

“Here’s the short version,” Cadance said with a smile. “A long time ago, there was a kingdom in the far south ruled by a queen and her consort. Queen Amora was to be that queen, but on the day of her wedding to Duke Crescendo, he stole her inherited powers over the heart and fled to start his own kingdom, one where he wouldn’t be some trophy husband and little else. Or so the story goes.”

Aconita gave her an impressed look. “My, my. You certainly know a lot about our history.”

Cadance neatly avoided her gaze. “Let’s just say I’ve had some inside sources. Anyway, as the story goes, Crescendo’s act broke Amora’s heart, which caused her love magic to become twisted and corrupted. That transformed her into the first changeling queen – the Maker.”

Rarity turned pale. “I… get the feeling the name is all too literal.”

Cadance nodded somberly.

Rainbow frowned, however. “And… you think this thing that Crescendo stole… was the Crystal Heart?”

Cadance nodded, breaking into a smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think happened. Which means one thing.”

Everypony looked on, just as confused as ever. Everypony, except Aconita. Her eyes grew large as dawning comprehension struck her. “It’s a Corastone,” she said.

“Yes!” Cadance said excitedly. “The Crystal Heart is the first Corastone to ever exist! That is why I couldn’t recreate it; normal unicorn magic wouldn’t be enough.”

“Then, that stone,” Aconita said slowly, “is Queen Amora’s Corastone? Is that what you are implying?”

Cadance nodded, a glint in her eye. “I am. But there’s a problem, isn’t there?”

Aconita scowled thoughtfully. “Indeed. I detected no changeling magic from that artifact, or else I would have given it more attention. Which means…”

“It’s free of the curse!” Rainbow burst out.

“Exactly!” Cadance said, smiling ear to ear.

Then Rarity asked the question that brought the whole mood down.

“But… how?”

Nopony had an answer for that. They tried, oh they tried to come up with something, but nothing sounded right in their heads. Until…

“The cave,” Fluttershy mumbled, softer the usual.

When everypony looked towards her, she fidgeted nervously and ducked her head. “Um… you said the cave was full of bones, right?”

Cadance nodded. “Yes, that’s what the book says.”

“Well… what if they aren’t just Crescendo’s,” Fluttershy postulated.

Cadance frowned thoughtfully. “So… you think that maybe… Amora succeeded in tracking down Crescendo?” 

Fluttershy nodded minutely. “I mean, maybe, if you think so…”

Rainbow looked between them, down at the book, then straightened up. “Hey. Where is this cave?”

Cadance thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Somewhere due north of the Crystal Empire. Nopony has ever found it, though.”

“Gotcha. Be back in a jiff,” Rainbow said, and before anypony could react, she zoomed away, sending carefully arranged documents and scrolls scattering on her tailwind.

“What does she think she’s doing?” Aconita inquired testily.

“Knowing her,” sighed Rarity, “something highly foolish.”


~~***~~


The good news was the winds outside the temperate bubble surrounding the Crystal Empire had not grown any colder. The bad news was that they hadn’t gotten warmer, either.

The moment Rainbow set off at full speed, the icy winds set about layering as much frost and snow in her feathers as it possibly could. But Rainbow forged on, dead set on finding a resolution to this question. She was so close… so close to knowing how to save Applejack.

Applejack… she hoped she was alright. She still had nightmares about the last time she’d done that teleportation spell and kicked off probably one of the worst nights they’d ever had. The sight of Applejack, lying in that bed, looking so scared and frail and helpless…

Suddenly, Rainbow got the strongest feeling that she was going in the total wrong direction. It was like her internal compass did a complete flip, and instead of flying north, she was actually headed south.

She slowed, looking around. No… no, the mountains ahead were in the right place. Their tall, jutting profile against a low cloud bank was the only real shape amidst the otherwise flat tundra. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was not headed where she needed to be headed.

Rainbow turned around, confused – and nearly got broadsided. “Whoa!” she cried out, nearly tumbling out of the air. Something large whipped past her, streaking by so fast that she barely even saw it.

“Hurry!”

Rainbow paused. That voice again. She turned in the direction of it, straight into a blustery squall of snow. She frowned, then sped off, even as every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn around. She was going in the wrong direction!

On she flew, headed north. Steadily, the mountains grew larger and larger, until they rose to monolithic sizes. Next to them, Rainbow was like a blue pebble, tiny and insignificant. In the darkness, only the iridescent snow cloaking the monstrous peaks gave them shape. And as Rainbow flitted past the first jagged peak, she came out from under the oppressive clouds. So massive were the mountains that they barred the storms from proceeding any further, like a giant dam of the sky.

Now the heavens opened up, revealing brilliant stars far brighter than anything Rainbow had ever seen. The sky was streaked across with countless, undulating bands of vivid green auroras that stained the world below a ghostly shade of emerald.

And the other thing Rainbow noticed was that the temperature seemed to plummet even further. Without the cloud cover, what little warmth there was fled into the sky, leaving the air a blisteringly arctic cold.

Immediately Rainbow’s teeth started chattering and she began shivering. She knew she couldn’t last long in this sub-zero climate. So, she’d just have to be fast.

Rainbow swooped low, hoping to use the mountains to shield her from the worst of the winds. Then, she set about looking for caves.

The problem was that the frozen mountain range was enormous. Coast to coast, in fact, spanning the whole breadth of Equestria. Miles of deep valleys, soaring mountain peaks, glacial fields, and Rainbow had to find one itty bitty cave in the whole place.

Maybe she’d been just a tad impulsive jetting off the way she did, now that she thought about it.

“I-it’s g-g-g-got to b-b-be ar-round h-h-her somewhere,” Rainbow chattered to herself.

She flew lower, relenting on her burning muscles. But so far, all she saw was snow, ice, and rock. Nothing even remotely resembling a depression, much less a cave, came into view.

But she wasn’t about to give up now. It could be around the very next bend! She forced herself on, grinding her teeth to keep them from chattering up a storm. Just around the next bend…

Something glided by over her head. Rainbow only saw the shadow, but it was distinct enough in the white landscape for it to pop out at her.

Rainbow spun her head around, looking blearily every which way.

A blur of motion in the sky caught her attention. Something was moving perpendicularly to her own trajectory, but before she could get a good look at it, it dove behind a shallow rock face, vanishing from sight.

Rainbow immediately changed course, banking hard. Something was definitely trying to lead her somewhere, of that she had no doubt. The only question now was who?

Hugging the ridgeline as close as she dared, Rainbow flew up it, sailed over the rock face, and peered down the other side.

And there, nestled in a bowl-shaped valley between two mountain ridges, was a black shadow against the snow. A cave. But once again, there was no sign of the fast-moving creature that had caught Rainbow’s attention.

Okay… this is starting to get a little spooky.

Rainbow clipped her wings and raced down the other side of the ridge. She swooped up the valley, then pulled herself to a halt right on a frost-encrusted slab of granite in front of a chasm entrance. 

From where she stood, it looked little like a cave, and more like a gash inflicted upon the mountainside. Beyond the snowy rocks lining the entrance, Rainbow could see nothing but an inky black emptiness before her. Only the wind moaning amidst the frozen rocks made a sound.

Rainbow gulped, shivering in place. It was mostly due to the cold. Mostly.

She looked around, hoping maybe to find a different, preferably well-lit cave nestled amidst the rocks that didn’t give her such a bad feeling. But, of course, there was none. So very typical of her luck.

“W-w-well, g-guess there’s only one thing t-to do,” she mumbled to herself. She steeled her nerve… then looked up. Maybe higher up… She hadn’t checked up there…

There was, of course, no miracle cave to save her. She growled to herself and slapped her cheek. “Ugh, get it together Rainb-b-bow. It’s j-just a p-p-pitch b-black cave in a f-frozen wasteland. W-what’s the worst that c-c-c-could happen?”

She nodded to herself. Took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and plunged into the darkness.


~~***~~


Immediately, Rainbow was thrown into total blackness. She couldn’t see anything, not even her own hoof in front of her muzzle. Blindly she groped around until she found a wall. From that point on, her wing never left contact with its frozen, uneven surface.

Slowly, she crept forward, swinging her hooves around to pat the ground and wall in front of her. Inch by agonizing inch, she worked her way deeper into the frozen cave.

As soon as she was inside, her ears were assaulted by the sheer stillness of the cave. Nothing moved, not even a breeze. It was totally, jarringly quiet inside, the air stagnant and damp.

Rainbow found the cave working its way further back. Then, abruptly it veered to the left and started to slope down. When she rounded the corner, all light was gone. She could no longer find the cave entrance behind her, and sudden claustrophobia ate at her. It was so quiet, so still, so unbearable.

But somewhere down here, there was a clue to saving Applejack. Whenever she reminded herself of that, she cared a little bit less about the horrible darkness.

Down and down she went. It felt like she’d been crawling along for hundreds of yards, when some part of her told her it could have only been tens of feet. And it kept going down. Always down.

Twice she almost slipped on the frosty stones. But she never lost contact with the wall. She didn’t care if she scraped or bruised herself, so long as she never, ever lost contact with that wall. It was her only lifeline out of this place.

“Just a little further,” Rainbow said to herself. Her voice was a few octaves too high, but the sound of her own voice made her feel a little better. Except the sound of it pointed out how narrow the chasm had become. That didn’t help.

“Just a little bit longer. Then we’ll go save Applejack and forget this eeeeeever happened…”

And that was when a light appeared before her.

Rainbow wasn’t sure what was worse in that moment; the total blackness she’d been struggling through, or the faint, eerie blue light that glowed around a bend just ahead. Something about it made the choice a hard one.

Slowly she worked her way towards it, down a gap in the bedrock only barely wider than she was.

Rainbow reached the corner, gulped again, and stuck her head around. What she found was every bit as foreboding as she’d envisioned.

In front of her, the cave abruptly stopped. The chamber was wide and tall, its bottom slightly bowled. And scattered across the floor, neatly arranged in a small pile, was a cluster of ancient, ice-covered bones.

But it was not the bones that immediately caught Rainbow’s attention. It was the faint, eerie blue light swirling like a mist around the ceiling. It spiraled up and around, issuing from… from a desiccated boney horn attached to a skull on the floor.

Rainbow really didn’t want to go any further into that dusty chamber. She could see all she needed to see from the entryway. But something compelled her to step forward anyway.

And as she did so, she started to make sense of the mess of bones in front of her.

First, she noticed the skulls. Two, to be precise. A smaller, slighter one laid tucked under a thicker, broader one, as if seeking shelter from the cold. Time and rot had robbed the two figured of their poses, though. Most of the bones just heaped together in a hectic pile. But here and there among the ivory jumble, Rainbow saw a hoof placed across the side of a crumbling ribcage, and another resting upon a frost-crusted clavicle.

“They… were hugging,” she said aloud. “Then… if those really are Crescendo and Amora… that means…”

Rainbow…

A voice was the last thing Rainbow wanted to hear at that time. She only shrieked a little bit, but luckily there was nopony around to hear it. Or… unluckily, as it were, because there was nopony around at all.

Still, her skin crawled; she could feel… something. Like eyes on her.

“Who’s there?” she said loudly. No pony answered, but she knew what she’d heard; a voice, faint as a whisper. And she could feel it without a doubt now. She was being watched.

…Get back here…!

Rainbow spun around. That had come from right behind her – she knew it had! But there was nothing. “Who’s there?!” she shouted, louder this time. “Stop playing around! You wanna say something, say it to my face!”

... Ah knew Ah could count on ya…

Rainbow froze, her breath catching in her throat. “A… Applejack?” she said in a small voice. There was no mistaking it, no matter how much she wanted to. That had been Applejack’s voice, coming from some nebulous point off to her left, amidst a deformed stalagmite. But again, when she turned to look, she found only empty space.

Rainbow’s heart quickened. Her last sight of Applejack – surrounded by fire, her body crumpled in pain – broke over her mind again like a fresh, ice cold storm surge. “Applejack! Where are you?”

Guess that’s my win…, whispered the voice again.

This time, Rainbow tracked it. She whipped around, nearly falling over.

The phantom stared straight back at her, nose to nose.

This time, Rainbow let out the loudest, most uncool shriek of her life. She jumped back, hit the wall, and slid down to the floor.

But the form did not disappear. It stood there, vaporous as fog, yet so very distinct. It straightened up, and Rainbow saw just how tall it was. It stood taller than two of her. Glowing bands of ethereal light undulated off of its shoulders, like ghostly rags in a slow motion wind. She had no face, only two points of light that flickered like sparks approximately where eyes should have been.

“Why dost thou disturb our slumber sweet,” whispered a voice that came from everywhere and nowhere. “O bearer of mine tainted chorus. What bringest thou to me?”

Rainbow, however, was too busy trying not to scream again to answer right away.

That was when another voice made its presence known, and it reverberated through the rock like an furious earthquake. “Depart, o bearer of the tainted chorus. Trouble our sleep no longer with thine presence.”

The ghostly figure turned slowly, its form momentarily becoming unintelligible. “Peace, my love. Dost thou not feel it?”

She turned back towards Rainbow. “There beats a heart pure of intent in this one. Perhaps hope burneth yet for this one.”

Behind the phantom, something cracked. Rainbow looked down, and felt herself grow even colder.

One of the skeletons was picking itself up.

“I feel naught but the curse borne by these hooves mine, my love,” the skeleton growled, spewing forth dust and flakes of frost. “I see naught but the sin borne of mine hubris.”

As it rose, the skeleton changed before Rainbow’s eyes. A hide of grey smoke fell upon the creature, shrouding much of it as it rose. And rise it did, to improbably heights, until the cavern could barely contain it.

Boney wings hung from the skeleton’s shoulders. Long, ragged pinions still clung to its surface, their color bleached white with the ravages of time. And as the skeleton turned to face Rainbow, she saw its face.

There was nothing but bleached white, cracked bone. A crown rested upon its head. Except, for some reason, it had been turned upside down, the long jagged golden spokes pointing downward instead. And the crown rested so low over the skeleton’s eyes that they blocked them completely, blinding the creature to all that was around it.

A mane of long, wispy white hair fell in tangled mats to the floor, and its tail pooled beneath its hind legs as it rose.

“Why dost thou seeketh us,” the skeleton demanded, anger evident in its distant, echoing voice. “Speak quickly, or leave us in peace.

Rainbow licked her lips. Suddenly, her throat felt very dry. “Um, well… you see… It’s about… about…”

The misty phantom tilted its ethereal head at her. “Pain fills this one’s heart. She yearns for another.”

Rainbow straightened up. “I… don’t really know what you just said, but um… are you two, maybe… Amora and Crescendo?”

The phantom’s head tilted to the side even more. “This one knoweth our names,” she commented curiously. “And she bareth the tainted chorus. Yet, it is not one with her. No… it belongeth to another. Perhaps it hath been entrusted to this one?”

Now the skeleton paused. Its blinded face turned towards Rainbow, jaw hanging loose. “She bareth it willingly?”

“So it would appear.”

Rainbow looked between the two specters uncertainly. “Um… if you two are Amora and Crescendo… what happened to you guys? How did you two end up here?”

Both the specter and the skeleton exchanged mercurial looks, neither one possessing much face to make an expression with. Then, the ghostly apparition turned towards Rainbow. “Knowist you our story?” she inquired.

Rainbow nodded.

“Then thou would know mine quest to find Crescendo. For many years it consumed me, giving rise to the tainted chorus that consumes mine children. After searching the width and breadth of the land, I turned my sights to the north.”

She once again turned towards the cadaverous entity beside her, who stood close at her shoulder. “Mine journey was a costly one. When I at last tracked Crescendo to this cave, my strength was all but spent. His had not fared much better.”

The skeleton turned with the clink of bones towards Rainbow. “The Crystal Heart would not listen to me. For all my transgressions my heart layeth with Amora. I thought to bare that torment for the good of mine future people. But… it was not meant to be. The Heart would not grant me my demesne. When the truth sank in, I sought exile, and spent the rest of my days here.”

“And so, this is where we remain,” the ghost finished for him. “In quiet solitude and reconciliation. Only in death hath peace found us both.” 

“A peace upon which thou would intrude,” the skeleton snarled. “What hubris compels thee to disturb our sleep with the sins of our past? Leave us, little pegasus. Torment us with the tainted chorus no longer.”

Rainbow gulped, looking between the two figures. “You guys are barely making any sense. What’s a ‘tainted chorus’?”

Both the phantom and skeleton exchanged looks. Then, they turned back to face her. The phantom raised her hoof and pointed it in Rainbow direction.

Suddenly, an intense pain shot across her chest. Rainbow cried out, lurching forward as something tightened inside of her. Like a vice it bore down, until it felt as if her heart would be crushed to a fine past.

Then, she felt something wrench inside of her. Rainbow felt herself physically tugged forward as something brilliantly green burst out of her breast, slipping out of her like a mirage.

Immediately Rainbow’s hooves went to her chest, only to find it undamaged. Yet… something felt wrong. Terribly wrong, like something of vital importance had been pried from her. It was like breathing with only one lung, or knowing she only had one kidney. It was a feeling of intense loss that made her feel hollow inside.

She looked up, and was about to demand an explanation when she saw the thing floating in front of her eyes.

It was small and deformed, like a chunk of rock knocked free with a pickaxe. Barely bigger than Rainbow’s hoof, it floated in front of her: a chunk of brilliant emerald surrounded by revolving flakes and shards that orbited in every direction. It pulsed with light, thumping in a steady, two beat rhythm. Exactly like a heart.

“Wha… what is that?” Rainbow panted, eyes transfixed.

“A piece of the tainted chorus,” The ghost explained. “A shard of thine precious one’s heart that could not bear to be parted from thee. One that thou accepted willingly into thine own heart. Can thou not feelist its call?”

Rainbow continued to clutch at her chest. It felt like there was a hole inside her, and she was staring directly at the thing that was needed to fill it.

“Give… give that back,” she panted.

No sooner did she demand it than the apparition moved her hoof to the side. Abruptly, the nugget of pulsating green crystal flew at Rainbow’s chest and vanished from sight.

The moment it disappeared, everything felt right with the world again. She felt whole, complete once again.

Rainbow took a deep, steadying breath, then stood up. “Okay, what was that? How did that get inside me?”

“As I said,” the phantom said patiently. “It is a piece of the heart that yearneth most for thee, and that thee yearneth for in kind. Tis the tainted chorus that bind mine people to eternal hunger, to covet that which was denied me in life. It is a profaned parody of the magicks of old, perverted in totality. Yet, the piece thou wouldst hold is only an incomplete shell. The heart that hath been meant for thee was snatched away, stifled by a shadow most dark.”

The skeleton let out a low growl. “So long as this shadow holds dominion over thy dearest one, the tainted chorus shall drown out all else leaving her deaf to all but hunger.”

“Harken unto me, little pegasus,” The phantom said. “The shadow thou will face is a most sinister fiend, cruel and cunning without compare. Through thine dearest, it threatens to enact cruel vengeance upon all thou would hold dear and bathe the world in the chorus. It will put thou to task. And if thou let it, it will be thine end.”

The phantom then raised a hoof, as if offering it towards Rainbow. “But… if thou wouldst face this evil, if thou wouldst brave the darkness for thine dearest, thou needeth only turn to the shard left in thy care. Heed it closely, my little pegasus. Heed it closely.”

The phantom grew dim. The skeleton crouched as if about to lie down. And before Rainbow could utter a word, the dim light went out, and all was still darkness once again.


~~***~~


The Crystal Empire library had grown somewhat dull in Rainbow’s absence. Rarity and Fluttershy sat next to Cadance and helped her sort through her countless documents, or only to pass the time.

Shining Armor stood leaning against the corner of a book shelf, half shrouded in darkness. His eyes never wandered far from Aconita or Vanity, both of whom remained only a short distance away, and so far had not said a word.

Aconita, for her part, continued to watch Cadance with open curiosity. Much about the princess intrigued her, and there were many questions still on her mind. But, as time passed, she was starting to understand why Chrysalis had spared her, a very unorthodox choice indeed.

Even so, she maintained her skepticism. Ten thousand years was a very long time, and in that time, not one queen or changeling had ever broken their insatiable hunger for love. And many had tried.

She was not convinced that Carnation had been a freak occurrence. But if these ponies could actually replicate the process… Could it actually be possible? It was that distinct uncertainty that cause her to remain in present company. For the time being, at least.

Across the way, Cadance finished placing another piece of paper upon a spectacularly tall tower. “There. That should do it for now."

Rarity let out a breath of relief. “Goodness. You certainly have a lot of notes on this subject.”

Cadance blushed. “You think so? Well, I could never be too sure about what was valuable information, so I guess, over the years, I sort of… kept everything.”

Rarity gave Cadance a questioning look upon hearing that. “That reminds me. How long have you been conducting this research?”

Cadance smiled at her rather sheepishly. “Since I was a little foal. So… six, seven years old. But, well, until recently I really didn’t know what I was doing. I had some help but, well… changeling queens guard their secrets really well. So the ‘research’ was more or less just theories and fringe arcane science.”

Cadance looked down at the hodgepodge of documents, and gave them a nostalgic smile. “Actually, I almost gave up entirely. Until Chrysalis attacked, anyway. She caught me off guard, you see. As it turns out, Carnation was the exception, not the example of queen temperaments.”

Rarity winced sympathetically.

“But… when I found out Applejack was Carnation’s daughter,” Cadance went on, her tone dropping. “You know, I felt so ashamed for losing heart. Especially… especially after finding out what happened to Carnation, and the sacrifice she made for us.”

Rarity’s expression fell. She put a reassuring hoof on Cadance’s shoulder, who smiled weakly back. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’d sort of come to the conclusion a long time ago. Still, it was nice. To have closure, I mean.”

Fluttershy and Rarity exchanged sympathetic looks. Fluttershy moved to pat Cadance on the shoulder as well, when the library's double doors blew open and scattered the past hours work of reorganization across the library floor once again.

Rainbow stood in front of them, panting and shivering from the cold. Her eyes were huge. “I found it,” she wheezed. “And you will not believe what happened.”


~~***~~


Everypony listened intently as Rainbow recounted her visit to the frozen cave. They all stared at her, Aconita included, as she described the spectral and skeletal apparitions and what they had to say.

After a while, Rainbow finally fell quiet. By that time, a blanket had been produced, and she was currently shivering fitfully inside a cocoon of a fluffy comforter. 

When she fell quiet, the room fell quiet with her. Everypony tried to process the information they’d been given, but it took a long time. 

Eventually, Cadance turned towards Aconita, who was still lost in thought. “Have you heard of that term?” she inquired, drawing the queen’s attention. “Does this ‘tainted chorus’ sound familiar at all?”

Aconita shook her head. “Not remotely,” she said. “But clearly it was used in reference to a queen’s Corastone.”

Cadance frowned thoughtfully. “Well… what exactly does a Corastone do? I keep finding myself drawing comparisons between them and the Crystal Heart. But, instead of filling the hearts of those around it, they seem to work in reverse. Am I close?”

Aconita pursed her lips. “Not quite. It is with a Corastone that a queen controls her hive. With it, a queen can impose her will upon all of her subjects, effectively imprinting her morals upon every drone in her hive.”

Cadance looked troubled at that. “So… no drone is allowed a choice?”

Aconita glanced to her side. Vanity looked up at her without inflection. “No,” Aconita stated.

“Corastones sound awful,” Fluttershy mumbled sadly.

“Yeah, well, Applejack’s going to have one soon,” Rainbow said grimly. “And apparently, a piece of it got stuck inside me somehow.”

“Which might be a good thing,” Rarity postulated optimistically. “Maybe as long as hers is not whole, she… she won’t completely lose herself.”

Rainbow looked down at her front. “I sure hope so,” she said. While she did, she reached up to touch her chest. Somewhere under her hoof was a piece of Applejack, a small fragment that hid within her. It wasn’t much, but… this was something she could keep safe.

From across the table, Aconita stared at Rainbow. Cadance noticed, and glanced her way. “Your thoughts?” she inquired.

Aconita glanced at her. For a moment, she seemed reluctant to respond. Then, she looked back towards Rainbow, who had looked up in her direction, as well.

“This phenomenon,” she said after a pause. “A Corastone, if even just a piece of one, forming within something other than a crown… It is highly irregular. Some might say it is unnatural.”

Cadance turned towards Rainbow, who seemed to be trying to figure out if she was just insulted or not, then went back to Aconita. “Well, would you like to help me lay to rest a theory of mine?”

Aconita glanced toward her eyebrow raised. “More requests of cooperation? My, you certainly are an unusual one.”

Cadance smiled. “Call me an optimist,” she said, then reached under the table.

Everypony watched curiously as she rifled around, then pulled a small wooden case out for all to see.

The moment Aconita laid her eyes on it, she tensed. Cadance saw it as she carefully set the box down, magically undid the latch, and flipped the lid open.

There, resting on a velvet cushion was a spindly yet unmistakable changeling crown.

Everypony gasped at the sight of it, especially when she lifted it up into the air. The candlelight danced across the rubies affixed to the four thin spokes on the crown, drawing a very enamored Rarity’s attention.

“Where did you find this,” Aconita asked. Her tone was level, but there was an edge of guardedness to it now.

“It was brought to me, actually,” Cadance said. “By a drone, a long time ago. She never stopped to talk, and I never saw or heard from her again. But… somehow I believe it was Hyacinth. I could be wrong, but… that’s who I like to imagine it was.”

Cadance placed Carnation’s crown down on her hoof. Then, she turned and offered it to Aconita. To her surprise, the queen shifted away from it, as if it gave off a foul smell.

“You said a Corastone is kept within a changeling queen’s crown,” Cadance said. “So then, does that mean you can expose one if it were here?”

“Oh, you bet she can,” Rainbow interjected. “She showed me hers at the Summer Sun Festival.”

Aconita threw Rainbow a dark look that promised a thousand painful deaths, which the pegasus returned with a smile. Then Aconita turned, rather reluctantly, towards Cadance. “Yes, I can.”

Cadance smiled. “Great! Then—”

“But I refuse to do so.”

That pulled Cadance up short. “Um… why?” she asked.

Aconita turned her nose up, looking the other way. “In order to do so, I would have to connect myself to whatever lies inside that crown. Carnation’s Corastone and my Corastone would join together. And that would be… unpleasant, to say the least.”

Rainbow smirked. “What’s the matter? Big bad queen afraid of feeling things?”

The look Aconita gave her could have burned a hole through steel at a hundred paces. “Watch your tongue, little pegasus. I have seen atrocities committed in my lifetime that would turn every one of your pretty little hairs white.” Aconita turned away, her expression frigid. “Sometimes being detached from everything around you has its advantages.”

Rainbow scoffed, only to find several disapproving looks being thrown at her. “What?”

Cadance sighed, then looked back at Aconita. “I understand your hesitation, and I know you have no reason to trust me. But it is my theory that there is nothing inside this crown.”

Aconita raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“I know that it gives off a lot of energy,” Cadance said. “But most of it is residual. It’s been steadily decaying ever since it came to me.”

Aconita stared at her, looking highly reluctant. Then, she exhaled through her nose. “I have put plenty at risk for this foolish little inquiry,” she sighed.

Vanity looked on with big, worried eyes as Aconita swept the crown from her head, and to her underling’s immense surprise, proceeded to hand it to her.

Vanity took it reverently and without question. She cradled it with the utmost care, then turned to give Aconita a searching look.

The queen did not look back. Instead, she focused on lifting the small crown from Cadance’s hoof and floating it over towards her. It hovered under her nose, and for a moment she gave it a look like she expected it to lunge for her jugular. 

Then, Aconita took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and her horn glowed even brighter.

The crown started to rattle and shake. It quivered in the air, faster and more violently with each passing second, until, all at once, the crown exploded.

Aconita braced, fully expecting an overpowering flood of emotion to rip through her, body and mind. Rainbow braced, fully expecting an eruption of fire to burst forth like it did when Aconita cracked open her own crown.

Instead, and very anticlimactically, absolutely nothing happened. The crown shattered into a hundred tiny little fragments, each one hovering in midair. But at the heart of the mass of shrapnel, there was only empty space.

Everypony let out a collectively held breath, Aconita included.

Cadance peered closely into the network of crown pieces, a bright glint in her eye. “So I was correct. There is no Corastone here.”

Aconita frowned, but kept her questions to herself. Instead, Rainbow voiced them for her. “So then… if it’s not here, where is it?” she asked.

Cadance leaned back, smiling. “I think that Carnation gave it to Applejack’s father,” she deduced. “Or maybe Applejack herself. And after what the ghosts of Queen Amora and Crescendo told you, Rainbow – that has to be it! The secret to Carnation’s success is that she gave her Corastone to somepony!”

“Somepony who would accept it,” Rarity added. “It seems to me like that is an important distinction. If it was that easy, this whole curse business wouldn’t be such a big problem for the changelings, now would it?”

“Great!” Rainbow said, her eyes gleaming fiercely. “So all we have to do is find somepony who can take Applejack’s Corastone and she’s as good as saved!”

She didn’t notice that Rarity and Fluttershy both exchanged a look and started giggling knowingly. Cadance, as well, stifled her laughter. “Um, Rainbow… Seeing as you have a piece of Applejack’s Corastone inside you already, don’t you think that somepony might be… you?”

Rainbow paused to think about it. Then brightened up. “Even better! I don’t think we’d find anypony good enough to carry it, anyway. Hey, what’s so funny?” she added irritably, noticing at last the two mares lost in a fit of giggles behind her.

“Nothing, nothing,” Rarity laughed, “Think nothing of it, darling! Now that that’s settled let’s go save your dearest one!”

“Yeah! Wai- hey! What are you trying to say?!”

Cadance smiled at the embarrassed mare, when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned, and found Carnation’s crown whole again and resting on the table.

Aconita had turned away and was trotting off towards the door, her own crown back on her head.

“I suppose this is it for our cooperation,” Cadance said to her.

“Indeed,” Aconita said. “Don’t act so disappointed, princess. You got what you wanted, did you not? And so did I. That is all that matters.”

“What will you do next?” Cadance asked, then said, “Nevermind. You probably wouldn’t tell me, anyway.”

Aconita paused, then glanced over her shoulder. “You are correct. Besides, you will have enough to deal with besides monitoring me. Or have you forgotten already? The real culprits orchestrating these events are still at large. If I were you, I’d concern myself with them over me.”

Aconita turned, regarding Vanity. “Come. I have a wayward daughter to collect.” And together, they strode from the room without so much as a backward glance. The doors closed behind them, and they were gone.

Shining Armor glanced towards Cadance. “Do you really want to just let them leave? We’d probably be doing Equestria a service locking that one up.”

Cadance shook her head. “Aconita may not be on our side, but she’s not against us either. She does have a point, however. Whoever is behind all of this is still out there, and whatever their plan is, I don’t think it includes us bringing Applejack to her senses before she can do any damage.”

Hearing that, Rainbow turned away from Rarity’s teasing smile and looked towards Cadance. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”

“Hold on,” Shining Armor interrupted. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

Everypony looked blankly back at him, much to his annoyance. “Twiley!” he said in exasperation. “She’s still in trouble!”

Rainbow smacked herself in the face. How could she have forgotten? Twilight was still in trouble. “Ugh, that’s right. And there’s no telling where she could be right now!”

Fluttershy fidgeted worriedly. “Oh, I hope she’s okay…”

Cadance, however, had a different opinion. “Actually, I think Twilight might be just fine,” she said.

Shining Armor rounded on her, a look of betrayal on his face. “What?! But she was foalnapped! How can she possibly be okay?!”

Cadance gave him a reassuring smile. “Two reasons. One, she gave herself up intentionally. That doesn’t sound like something Twilight would do if she didn’t have a contingency plan. And that brings us to reason number two: they took her to Canterlot.”

Shining Armor stared confusedly at her. “So what if they di—” And then it dawned on him. “Oh. Ooooh.”

Cadance smiled. “I get the feeling Twilight will be just fine. But for right now, we need to get moving, before whoever is behind this catches on to us. Lead the way, Rainbow; we’ve got a friend to save and an evil plot to foil!”


~~***~~


Twilight sat silently as the carriage trundled down familiar streets, now lit by streetlamps in the night. Periodically, the rays of passing lamps would illuminate the trio of huge stallions sitting across from her. Each one gave her a suspicious look, their weapons of choice laid out across their laps.

Twilight paid them no mind. She stayed politely quiet. The weight of the nullifying cuff on her horn bothered her, but she did not lift a hoof anywhere near it, for fear of what the thugs across from her would do.

But the longer her good manners persisted, the more her captors grew suspicious. Surely she had to be up to something, but the question was what. With that cuff around her horn, magic was impossible. And with those straps around her barrel and wings, flying was not an option either. Yet she continued to be so calm and collected. 

All three stayed on high alert, ready for anything, until the carriage slowed to a stop at the side of the road. One of the thugs peered out through the curtains, then nodded. “Right. This is our stop, princess. Off you get. Any funny business and you’ll be buyin’ the farm if you know what I mean.”

“Of course,” Twilight said evenly. She hopped down from her seat and waited patiently as the lumbering oafs pushed the door open on one side. One stepped out, then motioned for her to follow. She did, even though one felt the need to push her for absolutely no reason. She threw him a reproachful look, then stepped out.

As she’d expected, she found herself standing in front of a grand old mansion. A towering hedgerow lined the whole property, obscuring her, her captors, and even their vehicle from prying eyes. 

The drive itself was impressive. Flower beds lined the driveway, throwing splashes of brilliant color in every direction Twilight looked. Dead ahead, she found a fountain of a dancing pony, a jet of water erupting from its tilted back head.

“Come on,” one of the thugs grunted, shoving her from behind. “Best not to keep the boss waiting.”

Twilight didn’t say anything, and instead she started off up the drive. So far, everything was going the way she’d suspected it would. Really… after playing such a careful game, were these ponies really so stupid as to take her directly to the one in charge? She had to expect that there would be measures in place to make sure she didn’t get that information out. Perhaps they really would kill her. But she’d just have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

For the moment, what was most important to her was unmasking the villain behind so much pain and suffering. And if these idiots lead her right to that selfsame villain, who was she to complain?

In front of the mansion, she found still more guards. Not the kind adorned in armor, but rather the well-dressed sort in tuxedoes and dark sunglasses. Why they wore them at night, Twilight would never know.

They all watched her approach, none moving from their posts. Only Twilight’s ‘escort’ followed her.

Up the front steps she went, ignoring the eyes following her every move. She stayed focused on the elaborate front doors. And as she drew closer, they split open. And out stepped a familiar figure.

“So, it was you,” Twilight said as she approached.

She got a smile in return. “Deduced it, did you? As expected of the princess’s protégé! Ah, but where are my manners? come in! Come in! Make yourself at home!”

Bullion gave a wide, inviting smile. “You and I have much to talk about.”
	
> Chapter 21: In Equestria's Name
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
Bullion. In the upper echelons of Equestrian society, few did not know that name. Head of the single largest mineral concern in the land, owner of half a dozen mines and refineries, Bullion’s empire feeds all manner of industries. From coal for the train lines to the highest quality gemstones, and even magically aspected crystals; all this and more fall into the domain of the self-made mineral mogul. To say that the Bullion family has bits to throw around would be an understatement.

But what concerned Twilight most at present was not the rotund stallion’s monolithic prestige or his vast financial portfolio. What mattered most to her at present – besides the magic cuff and wing restraints, of course – was that Bullion was one of Applejack’s most persistent critics. Not the most outspoken, nor the most scheming, but it always seemed like whenever voices of protest were raised against the changeling population, Bullion assumed the role of spokespony.

It was because of his constant air of geniality. Even when others began turning red in the face and raised their voices in anger or frustration, Bullion always seemed to have a smile and a joke close at hoof. Even when arguing for the removal of the entire changeling demographic in Equestria, his charming smile and twinkle in his eyes never seemed to diminish. Of All the ponies Twilight had initially suspected, Bullion had not made her top five. And if she hadn’t heard his pitch for bringing back the Trojans, he might have stayed off her radar.

Seeing the portly stallion, dressed in a fine dinner suit, his thinning salt and pepper mane swept back out of his eyes, changed Twilight’s assessment real quick. Yet even now, Bullion did not give off the villainous air Twilight would have expected.

Bullion looked down at Twilight from the front door not with an air of dominance or superiority after having captured one of his enemies, but rather he looked at her with a cordial smile, like a dinner host greeting a guest.

“I do apologize for summoning you at such a late hour,” he remarked, and there was a note in his voice that could have been construed as an apology. “But I do say, you made good time!”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Twilight remarked dryly.

Bullion laughed good naturedly. “I suppose not. Well, don’t be shy; come in, come in!”

Bullion’s manor was a place lost in time. The decorum harkened back to a more novel time trimmed in rich dark mahogany, exquisite engravings and wrought iron fineries. Every chair, every end table, every piece of furniture by and large was an honored antique, lovingly restored to magnificent conditions.

Had Twilight been visiting of her own accord, the mansion would have taken her breath away. The magnificent chandelier in the foyer was awe-inspiring, comprising more fine crystal and gold than a jeweler’s workshop.

But seeing as Twilight was being herded in by a bunch of hulking goons, her wings strapped down with the toughest bindings bits could buy and her horn shorted out by the cold iron cuff situated around its base, Twilight was not visiting. And though the manor was truly beautiful, it was the pudgy stallion leading the way that received her undivided attention.

Bullion lead the way up a sweeping set of stairs, smiling and humming nonchalantly to himself. Even inside his own lair, Bullion continued to give off the air of a happy old grandfather. 

“I trust my associates here were not too insistent with my invitation,” Bullion said as they walked. “I had hoped to do you as little harm as possible. I sincerely mean that.”

Twilight glared at the back of his head. “And what about Captain Spry Buck?”

Bullion paused midstep, a look of realization dawning on him. “Ah yes,” he said thoughtfully, then pivoted on his heel. He turned towards a door not far from the staircase landing. He nodded to it, and one of his hired thugs lumbered over, and with a flick of his wrist, the door swung open.

On the other side was a small, windowless room. Two mares in fine maid outfits stood on either side of a bed, smiling ear to ear. And on the bed was Spry Buck.

He was covered in bandages, almost mummified, in fact. Only one eye was visible, and it was currently closed. A thin clear tube was attached to one foreleg on one end, and a hanging bag of clear liquid on the other. The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the only sound in the room.

Twilight gasped at the sight of him, and made to rush to the unconscious figure lying in the bed. A massive hoof stopped her, however.

“No, no, let her go,” Bullion insisted amicably. 

The hoof vanished, and Twilight rushed forward.

“Buck!” She called. The old drill sergeant didn’t react in the slightest to her voice. When she reached the side of his bed, she noticed how slow and even he breathed, like he was sleeping.

“Captain Buck will make a full recovery,” Bullion promised. “On that you have my word. But, ah, there might be… certain details he will be fuzzy on when it comes to the day’s activities.”

Twilight shot him a glare, which Bullion only smiled back at. “A pony of my stature can’t be too careful. A mare with a brain as big as yours could get me into a lot of trouble. I can’t have you blowing the top off my little project prematurely, now can I?” He winked playfully, then beckoned Twilight over. 

The maids were at Twilight’s side instantly. And they were a lot stronger than their dainty frames would have suggested.

With a hoof hooked roughly under each of her forelegs, Twilight found herself dragged back into the main hallway in a thrice. When she turned around towards the maids, she found them only smiling warmly back at her before slamming the door in her face.

Once again, Twilight found the thuggish stallions herding her along in Bullion’s shadow, who continued down the hallway at a leisurely canter.

“I’m surprised you saved his life,” Twilight noted coldly. “It seems to me like you wouldn’t care whether Buck lived or died.”

Bullion gave her an understanding smile over his shoulder. “Were it anypony else, he certainly would be more trouble than he was worth. But the Captain of the Guard perishing now would leave Canterlot in a rather awkward spot, would it not? And I daresay it would gather quite a bit of attention.”

“Like foalnapping a princess?” Twilight questioned evenly.

Bullion laughed merrily. “Ha ha! Perhaps, Miss Sparkle, perhaps! But, as far as anypony is concerned, right now you are on a train bound for the Crystal Empire, which won’t be arriving for a while yet, if I am not mistaken. Nopony will think to question where you are for another few hours, at least. And that, my dear, will give us ample time to talk.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes at him. “About what?”

“Oh, a great many things, I expect!” Bullion chortled. “And hopefully, we can come to an understanding. You see, I have no intention of harming you, or any of your friends for that matter! Ah, with one exception, I suppose,” he amended with a small frown. It vanished within moments. “And when we are done, you will be on your way, ready to save Equestria once more, as you’ve become so talented at doing! But, as the saying goes, timing is everything. And I would not have the five of your leaping to action out of turn.”

Before Twilight could speak up again, Bullion abruptly turned towards a finely crafted dark wooden door. “Ah, here we are.” He pushed it open with a hoof, then stepped to one side. “Mares first,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Twilight continued to glower at him, but stepped through the door as prompted. 

On the other side, she found a quaint study. A curving book case ran the whole perimeter of the room, in a U shape, and it was stacked, floor to ceiling, with innumerable books. Some of them Twilight had never even heard of before, some with writing on the spines totally unfamiliar to her.

She would have been quiet enamored with them, except that several other, every exotic artifacts caught her attention. At first glance, most appeared like little more than curiosities amassed over a long and storied lifetime.

Flanking either side of the door were twin sets of full body armor that would never fit a pony. Whatever was meant to wear them certainly walked around on four legs, but it was the upright torso attached to where a pony’s neck was that struck her. That, and the hefty battleaxes still possessed of a wicked, glinting edge.

Halfway across the room and on either wall were two more sets of battle armor. These she recognized; gryphons, made of fine steel that covered all but the parts that have to bend, like wing joints, shoulders and knees. Those were covered in one of the bulkiest, thickest sheets of chain mail Twilight had ever seen.

But the thing that bothered her the most sat in the place of honor at the head of the room, right behind a tall backed chair and desk. Nopony could ever overlook the monstrous dragon skull, or the way it shimmered with a thousand glassy colors; a byproduct of centuries of devouring gems by the mouthful.

A number of chairs, coffee tables, and a single desk filled the room. Against the only wall not covered in literature was a tall glass case filled with wine racks and fine crystal containers.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Bullion insisted as he followed Twilight in. As he stepped into the study, he immediately made a beeline for the cabinets and pulled the glass doors open. “Would you care for a drink? I think you will find this pear cider quite exquisite. Oh, how rude of me! You are of drinking age, yes? I wouldn’t want to serve libations to a minor. That would be simply criminal!” He laughed at his joke, gave Twilight another wink, and poured himself a glass.

Twilight, meanwhile, found a chair and sat down. She picked the seat that gave her the best vantage point; she could see the door – the only way in and out – and most of the room itself. “I’m fine,” Twilight responded coolly.

Bullion made a sound of acknowledgement, replaced the crystal decanter back in the display case, and trotted on over. He held a tray in one hoof. On it was his glass filled with a clear, faintly yellow liquid, and to Twilight’s surprise, an additional, empty glass. Next to it, a bottle of grape juice.

Bullion couldn’t keep the humor off his face as he set the tray down on the table of in front of her. “Try it. My grandchildren can never get enough!”

It was then that he took in Twilight’s stony glare. “Ah,” he said, some of his jovial demeanor wilting. “Down to business, then. I see.”

Bullion turned, regarding the set of huge guards blocking the door. “You may go,” he said.

Even Twilight gave him an uncertain look. “You sure, boss?” one of the guards asked. “She is—”

“I know who she is,” Bullion responded patiently. “Go, go. We will be fine.”

The two thugs exchanged doubtful looks, eyed Twilight, then they shuffled from the room, and closed the door.

The ticking of a grandfather clock was all that made a sound for several moments. Bullion reached down and took a sip from his glass. He smacked his lips, then turned his attention towards Twilight.

“You have a lot to answer for,” Twilight said coldly. “You staged the attack on Ponyville to make it look like a changeling attack.”

“Indeed, I did,” Bullion said. He spoke like he expected her to be going somewhere with this, not for it to be the main point of her accusation.

“So-so you framed the Court,” Twilight accused, “all to get us chasing ghosts!”

“And you did!” Bullion said with a smile. “Oh my you did. Honestly, it barely took any prodding! A few explosives, a hoof-full of enchantments, and voila; a nation clamoring for action. Everypony is already afraid of the big bad Changeling Court to begin with. All they needed was just the smallest of pushes and everypony would be up in arms.”

He leaned back, and for the first time, a troubled frown formed on his face. “To be honest, though, I did not expect the Court to actually rear their heads. The appearance of Queen Aconita was most certainly a surprise. But in the end, she played into my hoof anyway. So, far be it from me to stick my nose in her business.”

Bullion smiled into his glass. “Now all the pieces are where they should be. Dear Applejack will soon show the true colors of the changeling queens. What happens next will define Equestria for ages to come.”

Twilight raised her eyebrows. “Define Equestria? Is that why you’ve done all this?”

Bullion’s smile became softer. “Why wouldn’t it be? Vilify me to your heart’s content, as I am sure you will. But my goal as always been a stronger Equestria.”

He set his cider down. “Tell me, Miss Sparkle. How many times in these past few years has Equestria come to the brink of total destruction? Quite a few, yes? There was Nightmare Moon, Discord certainly, and the changeling invasion. Each event worse than the last. And each, barring one instance, the day was saved by six young mares who happened to be in the right place at the right time, and armed with ancient artifacts that respond to nopony else. But how many times will that happen? Can you look me in the eye, right now, and tell me all of you will be there, and you will triumph, now and forever? I think you will find the current state of affairs has proven that possibility completely false.”

Bullion leaned back in his chair. “The changeling invasion illustrated one thing; the Elements of Harmony are a flawed system. Should you be prevented from reaching them, we, as a whole, are doomed because of the failings of six young mares. And now here we are, with one of those six links broken, and we find ourselves faced with that very prospect. Applejack, bearer of the Element of Honesty, has turned on us all. Can you guarantee that something similar will not happen in the future?”

Bullion gave Twilight a knowing look, one she did not much like. “I have heard of the forces you yourself toyed with when the Crystal Empire first appeared. That dark magic you channeled. Oh yes,” he added, seeing Twilight’s astonished look. “I heard about that. Not many have, but then, few know where to look and who to listen to. That was quite a risk you took, playing around with such forces as if it were a foal’s dolly. And that kind of magic has a habit of… affecting a pony.”

He smiled again, looking smug. “But let us discuss more pertinent topics. Applejack. We cannot use the Elements of Harmony against her. If we could, you and your friends wouldn’t be running across the width and breadth of the land looking for a solution. And that poses a problem, and is the crux of my entire point.”

He took another sip. “Equestria is weak. Six mares are all that stand between us and oblivion. That cannot stand, not if this trend of escalation continues. We already know of an entire nation that has set its sights on all of us – the changelings. As of yet, our countermeasures are only barely sufficient at best, totally lacking at worst. And so, I wish to forge Equestria anew; to reawaken her fighting spirit.”

Twilight frowned. “No. You wish to undo thousands of years of progress and throw us right back into the tribal days.”

Bullion sighed. “Being closed minded is very unbecoming of a princess, my dear. You of all ponies should be able to see the logical side of it. The Royal Guard has routinely failed in its duties. Our enemies grow stronger by the day and move amongst us with virtual impunity. We, meanwhile, remain stagnant, trapped in a thousand-year-long stasis both technologically and ideologically. The masses are scared, Twilight Sparkle. What say you to that?”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Bullion… you’re missing the point.”

Bullion raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell.”

“The thing that saved Equestria from the very beginning – before me, or my friends, or even Princess Celestia and Princess Luna – was harmony. Friendship drove back the Windigoes, not strength of arms. My bond with my friends defeated Discord and Nightmare Moon, not six individuals armed with ancient magicks who happened to be lucky enough to be in the right place. The changelings were defeated by the connection shared by Cadance and Shining Armor, not sheer dumb luck. And if you think those were simply freak occurrences, then you don’t understand the strength that lies in all of us. So no; to answer your question, I can’t guarantee that I or the rest of my friends will always be here to protect Equestria. But I can guarantee that there will always been somepony else with the heart and courage to do so in our place.”

Bullion continued to give Twilight a skeptical look. “And so you would continue to trust Equestria’s future to something as mercurial as… friendship.”

“I would,” Twilight said with a nod. “Not because it is the only way I know to be true, but because to give in to anger and distrust would be Equestria’s ultimate downfall, as it nearly was with the three tribes long ago. As it was with the changelings, and the Crystal Empire. Violence is not the answer we need.”

Twilight sat back in her chair and folded her hooves. “You told me not to be closed minded, Bullion. But it looks to me like you could use your own advice.”

Bullion took a long, measured sip, his eyes on Twilight. Then, he set his glass down. He bobbed his head, as if conceding Twilight’s point, then straightened up. “Alright, then princess. I will humor you. If what you are saying is true, tell me how exactly friendship will save us now. From what I understand, Applejack will be quite out of her mind when next you meet, and the bond she shares with you and your friends is remarkable, I freely admit. But will the ‘power of friendship’ be enough to slake her thirst?”

He paused to allow Twilight time to come up with an answer. After a sizeable pause, however, the silence between them remained unbroken. “I thought not,” Bullion said, taking her silence for an admission of defeat. “No, in order to safeguard Equestria, it is Equestria that must learn to stand on its own four hooves. Friendship is a nice policy when our neighbors are already cowed. But when they are at our doors, open arms will afford us nothing. Consider this upcoming confrontation with a fully matured Queen Applejack as more of a… proof of concept, of sorts. I wonder, however; are you up to the task of facing her on the field of battle?”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “That is something I wanted to ask you about,” she said. “How did you know what would happen to Applejack? Not even the other changelings knew.”

Bullion gave her an even smile. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

Bullion sighed and took another drink. “I had thought it curious you would surrender yourself so easily. Alright, alright. If I must sate that curiosity of yours, I see no harm in giving you a small morsel to chew on.”

Bullion got up. He ambled around his seat, back in the direction of the desk. He rounded it, bent over, and pulled open a drawer. Then he reached inside and pulled something out, before setting it deliberately on the desk top.

Resting right in front of Twilight’s eyes was a black, spindly crown. 

Unlike every other crown of its type Twilight had seen, this one was in very poor shape. In fact, how it was still holding itself together was a mystery. It was covered in jagged cracks and fractures, some deep enough to leave gaps. The usual luster so common with this kind of crown was gone, and instead what surfaces weren’t cracked or chipped off were covered in little pockmarks like the surface of a black pumice stone. It was like the thing was rotting away, little by little.

Four jagged spindles jutted up off of the base, but each one had been snapped at varying lengths, leaving four sharp, uneven points.

“A curious thing, changeling crowns,” Bullion commented as he moved back towards Twilight, leaving the broken crown where it stood. “They are made of concentrated magic, compressed down by sheer force of will into physical form. No one queen can make one; it takes two, a mother and daughter, to forge. And it is a crown such as that one that captures a queen’s Corastone. How it does that, I cannot say. Perhaps the similar nature of the wearer’s magical essence and the essence of their heart are naturally drawn to one another. Who knows? What I find most curious is that, by all indication, they are all but indestructible. I absolutely shudder to think of what force could damage one in such a manner as this.”

Twilight turned to stare at Bullion, thunderstruck. “How… do you know that?” she asked.

Bullion took his seat, smiled at her, and winked teasingly. “I told you, didn’t I? Just a morsel.”

Bullion turned to look over his shoulder towards the desk, eying the crown he’d placed there. There was an almost reverent look in his eyes, like a collector gazing upon the crowning jewel of his collection. “It was a prospector that brought this little curiosity to me. I employ a number of freelancers, you see, and I pay them a premium for any mineral rich deposits they stumble upon. From what I understand, some old fellow – a long time freelancer of mine – found this in his net while panning for gold in the Everfree.”

He turned around, a calm smile on his face while he swirled the pear cider in his glass. “It’s such a pity he lost his mind. Rapid onset dementia, the doctors say. It was so unexpected. There never was another prospector like him.”

Twilight found her eyes drifting over to the broken crown. It sat there, quiet and motionless. But for some reason, the longer Twilight looked at it, the more on edge she felt, like the small object was silently screaming at her.

“Well,” Bullion said so abruptly Twilight jumped, “Such a curiosity led to one thing, and that led to another, and so on and so on… Suffice to say, I could see the opportunity when it presented itself. And here we are. You, sitting there, trying to wrap your head around it, me, on the verge of changing the world, and Applejack, soon to be yet another villain in a long parade of villains in need of putting down. For the good of all Equestria.”

Bullion lifted his glass, as if toasting her. He downed the rest of the clear drink in one gulp, then placed his glass on the tray in front of him.

“You’re a monster,” Twilight accused.

Bullion smiled. “‘Nearly all ponies can stand adversity. But if you want to test one’s character, give them power.’ A wise pony once said that. I am not a monster, Twilight; I am the test writer, and Applejack will be the test. I am giving power back to Equestria. It will be up to them, not me, who is left standing when the dust settles.”

Bullion picked his ample girth up from his chair and looked down at Twilight. “I know you gave yourself up because you want to stop me. Or, perhaps to learn of my plans. It matters little to me your reasoning. But unfortunately for you, there is nothing left to stop. Her Highness Queen Applejack will commit an unspeakable atrocity, possibly the worst in Equestria’s history if I am so lucky. And in their terror, I wonder what the masses will choose. Your way? Or mine?”

He clapped his hooves, and immediately the double doors opened. Two towering mountains of flesh ambled in and made for Twilight’s chair. “In the meantime,” Bullion said, beaming like a grandfather all over again, “you will be enjoying my hospitality. Until such time that Equestria has need of you, I would rest up. I daresay you will need every ounce of strength you possess tomorrow.”

Twilight had no choice. She rose, and followed the brutish stallions to the door. Before slipping out, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, and saw Bullion carefully stow that mangled crown in his desk once more.


~~***~~


As the door clicked shut across the room from him, Bullion let out a breath and slumped into the chair behind his desk. Twilight’s absence left only one bodyguard hulking in a corner, looking more like a well-dressed bull than a pony.

“Is everything in order?” Bullion asked, raising his voice.

“Yes, sir,” The bodyguard responded gruffly.

“Good, good,” Bullion said quietly. His smile slipped, and absently his hoof came up to rub one of his temples. “As soon as Twilight is safely stowed away, give the order. And remember; everything must be perfect.”

The guard eyed him from across the room, beady eyes hidden under deeply hooded brows. “Shouldn’t you rest, boss?”

Bullion glanced questioningly at him, then towards his raised hoof. He immediately lowered it, placing it in his lap. “Never mind, never mind. There will be time enough for that later, just as soon as we make sure Twilight plays one last part for us.”


~~***~~


The room Bullion had set up for her was, to Twilight’s immense surprise, a rather nice one. Large bay windows overlooked a rolling countryside, with the immense profile of the Canterhorn just visible in the north. A clear, full moon shined out over the night sky, giving shape to a few tufts of clouds and a sleeping world below.

The room itself had amenities to spare. A bathroom with a brass tube and sink, covered in imported marble tiles. A four poster bed big enough for Celestia, and lots of comfy chairs by the windows. The bed was turned down with fresh sheets and plump pillows just begging to cradle a weary pony off to sleep.

Twilight would bet, however, that every escape was sealed with magic and the walls were soundproofed. It was a beautiful room, but under all its fineries, it was no different from a jail cell.

As soon as she was in, the door slammed behind her, followed by an alarming chorus of bolts and latches being closed on the other side. She didn’t even remember seeing a chain, let alone all of that.

When it stopped – and it took several seconds – Twilight was left in stifling, restless silence. Immediately she set about testing the integrity of her prison, but it was as she’d feared: the windows didn’t so much as rattle in their frames. The bathtub, and all heavy furniture for that matter, was fixed immovably to the floor, preventing her from lifting anything heavier than a downy pillow. She could pull back the blankets on her bed, but it was like they were sewn into the foot of the mattress, and couldn’t be pulled free no matter how hard she tugged. Even the fine silken sheets; Rarity would have had a heart attack if she witnessed how hard Twilight yanked and pulled on the delicate fabric, yet it didn’t so much as fray even after several minutes of sustained abuse.

Twilight hadn’t expected to find an easy way out, anyway. Somepony capable of masterminding recent events wouldn’t leave obvious holes for her to sneak out of. And without her horn, she’d never find the chink in Bullion’s armor she needed to escape.

She considered trying to bash the suppression cuff off her horn, but… Somehow, the idea of hitting her horn against the edge of a solid brass tub or marble countertop made her cringe.

But she knew she had to escape. That had been her whole endgame coming here. Again and again she recalled what she’d learned, and she knew she couldn’t just sit around and wait for the inevitable; she had to speed things up a bit.

But the security around her room was flawless. She was trapped inside a magically secured box without the use of her own horn, behind an impregnable door better locked than some bank vaults, watched by the largest, beefiest stallions she’d ever seen and surrounded on all sides by Bullion’s agents, deep in an estate measuring hectares in every direction. Even she had to admit that that seemed too big an obstacle to overcome.

And something in the back of her mind told her she couldn’t just leave, anyway. The memory of that crown kept haunting her. The presence it had… even without her horn, she’d felt so uncomfortable just looking at it. She knew she couldn’t just leave it in Bullion’s care. But that was on the opposite end of the manor from her.

That left Twilight with two options: she could wait it out, or pray for a miracle.

Seeing nothing better to do, Twilight plopped down on the bed and put her head in her hooves. “Come on, Twilight. Think… think! There has to be something you can do…”

Then there was a knock in the window.

Twilight blinked, caught off guard. Last she’d checked, she was on the second floor. Had she just heard things? But no, there it was again, louder and more persistent than before. She turned around to look in the direction of the window – and about fell off her bed.

Looking back at her, beaming ear to ear, were a pair of changelings. And unbelievably, they were familiar changelings.

The bigger of the two gave her a wink with his one good eye. His other was hidden behind an eyepatch, with the words “See No Evil” stitched across its dark leather face. And flying next to him, waving her hooves excitedly, was a small, purple-maned queenling with the happiest fang-filled smile Twilight had ever seen.

Agave said something – or at least, it looked like she did. Not a peep made it through the glass. Cassava poked her on the head cautioningly, prompting the little filly to glance around quickly, then looked back towards Twilight, now looking apologetic.

Twilight, meanwhile, was still staring, slack jawed, at the impossible duo. It took her a moment, but she eventually picked her jaw up off the floor, eyed the door carefully, then silently tip-hooved over to the window.

“Cassava! Agave!” she hissed under her breath once she reached the window. Judging by the frown she got from the one-eyed drone, however, they were just as deaf to her as she was to them. But that didn’t stop her from babbling.

“H-how… when… What are you two doing here?!” she asked.

Now Agave was frowning in confusion, too. She said something, then glanced towards Cassava and asked him a question. The drone shook his head. He took a moment to make sure the coast was still clear, then he returned his attention towards Twilight intently. What followed next was a short pantomime of pointing gestures – first at Twilight, her room, off in some random direction along the manor’s perimeter, then a sweeping motion back towards her.

The message was simple and clear: “Stay there. We’ll come to you.”

Twilight’s eyes got huge. They couldn’t be serious! Agave was just a filly!

“W-wait a second!” Twilight said hastily, but the two just smiled at her, and dropped out of sight. She jumped at the window and pressed herself against the cold glass in order to stare down into the shadow of the great mansion. But they were already long gone.

A heavy thump sounded on the door behind her, causing her to squeal in alarm. For half a second, she thought it might actually be Cassava and Agave, until a completely different, brutish voice growled through the door at her. “Oi, what’s going on in there?” barked a muffled voice.

“N-nothing!” Twilight shouted back quickly. “Just – just talking to myself! It helps me think!”

A long pause, in which Twilight felt like her heart was about to leap out of her throat. “… Well, keep it down in there.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately spun around towards the window again. She leaned up against the glass again and peered down into the flowerbeds below as best she could. But there was nothing to see – nothing changeling-shaped, anyway. Nothing indicated where the two might have gone on this guard-filled property she found herself in.

“Oh… where did those two go…?”


~~***~~


“I knew that was Twilight we saw get off that train!”

“Aye, aye, good job, niña. Now to get her out of this place.”

Both Agave and Cassava flew low and fast, slipping under the eaves of windows. They hugged the shadows, scarcely making a sound. They had to be as quiet as possible; the estate grounds were packed with watchful eyes.

Up ahead, a duo of patrolling guards came trundling around a hedgerow. Cassava pushed Agave, and the two immediately twisted ninety degrees and latched onto the manor wall, their wings snapping to their sides. There they stayed until the patrol moved on, and then off they shot again.

“Who are these ponies?” Agave questioned quietly. “Why would they foalnap Princess Twilight? Aren’t they all on the same side?”

Cassava stifled a sigh as he carefully narrowed his glaringly luminescent blue eye to minimize its profile. “I have not figured that out since the last time you asked me,” he pointed out.

“Oh… sorry. Well... then, how are we going to get in? There are guards everywhere.”

Cassava stayed pensively silent for a moment. He hadn’t worked that part out yet. If it was just him, it would be a breeze. But with Agave – who was talented at sneaking around, true, but still a novice – it made things more interesting.

Well, it wouldn’t be fun if it wasn’t a challenge.

But as the pair approached the far corner of the manor, an opportunity presented itself. Just up ahead, Cassava saw the light of a window, and a pair of flowery curtains rippling in the open air.

“I have an idea,” Cassava said, a wicked glint shining in his eye.

Agave turned to look at him questioningly, started to say something – and squeaked when Cassava grabbed ahold of her, and tossed her at the open window like a hoofball.


~~***~~


The maid was diligently running a duster a number of antique dressers and armoires when she heard the crash behind her.

“Uuugh…” groaned somepony behind her.

The maid flinched, then slowly turned around. And there, standing in the middle of the room behind her, was a ghost.

It reared up, arms waving blindly in her direction as it shuffled forward, beckoning to her.

The maid took one look at it. The color drained from her face, and she dropped in a dead faint – just as Agave tripped with a yelp and landed flat on her face.

Whining, Agave got up on four hooves and quickly scurried backwards. The curtains remained stubbornly wrapped around her, however, until Cassava put a hoof down on one corner.

Agave came tumbling out, bumped into a night stand, and promptly had a vase land – mouth first – over her head.

“Cassava,” Agave whined in distress, her voice muffled by the porcelain encompassing her head. “Why did you do that?”

Cassava chuckled and pried the vase from her head. “My apologies, niña. But look! We are inside now! And that’s what’s important.”

Agave gave Cassava a pouty look, then got up. She examined the room curiously as she rose. She found herself in a spare bedroom full of large pieces of furniture. By now she was used to the strangeness of pony architecture, but once more she found herself struck by all the right angles and complete disregard for furnishing anything but the ground level.

A scuffling noise behind her caught her attention. She turned, and found Cassava busying himself with binding and gagging the fainted maid, and then stuffing her unconscious body into an unoccupied armoire. 

“There we go,” Cassava said, wiping his hooves. When he noticed his little charge looking curiously in his direction, he flashed a grin. “Tell me something. Do you find it strange that there are maids working at this time of night?”

Agave fidgeted and looking around uncertainly. “Um… I… guess? Don’t drones do that sort of thing all day, too?”

Cassava held up a hoof. “Ah, drones do, yes. But not ponies. Not unless they are up to something else.”

Agave gave him a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

Cassava turned to eye the door, a small grin of excitement on his face. “I don’t think it’s the big hombres we need to worry about.”

Agave bit her lip. “So… what do we do?”

“Same thing as before,” Cassava said matter-of-factly. “We save the little princess, foil the bad pony, and trot away heroes, chest full of medals and a thrilling tale under our belts. Simple, yeah?”

Agave frowned. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Excellent! You just follow my lead, niña. And if anything happens, you just let me take care of it.”

Agave nodded. “O-okay. But, um… will you be okay carrying that thing, too?”

Cassava glanced at her blankly, then down to his side. His barrel was wrapped in a dirty, singed bed sheet in which a perfectly round bulge protruded from his side. In all honesty, Cassava had gotten so used to the Corastone’s weight that he’d completely forgotten about it.

“I could take it for a little bit,” Agave offered, but Cassava shook his head. 

“No, no, you don’t need to be slowed down. I, on the other hoof, could use the handicap. It’ll make things more interesting, yes?”

Agave frowned, but relented. “Okay… Where to?”

Cassava grinned. “Just follow my lead, niña.”


~~***~~


In a quiet, unoccupied corridor somewhere along the west wing of Bullion’s manor, a door cracked open and swung just an inch or two outward. It was just far enough for two eyes – one double-ringed and one uniformly blue – to peek out into the empty hall.

Seeing that the coast was clear, the door swung open wider. To the casual observer, nopony would have seen anything else happen, not until the door politely closed itself.

Stealthy, unseen hooves patted quickly across the hall, leaving improbable impressions on the rug for brief moments. Then, a little filly queen shimmered back into existence, like a mirage taking shape. Agave peered around the small end table topped with a lovely bouquet, her eyes and little ears focusing on the end of the hall. Her wings rustled thoughtfully, her tail swished like a cat on the prowl, then with a glimmer from her horn, she shimmered out of existence again.

Agave was still young, but she still found that she had a particular knack for glamour spells. She couldn’t yet mask the sounds of her hooves or wings like Cassava could, but she still felt a sense of pride knowing she could do one thing, at least, that others her age couldn’t.

Though she was invisible, she was still quite substantial. She was reminded of this as she slunk up the hall, zigzagging from one landmark to the next, and about ran into the beefy foreleg of a guard that turned up out of nowhere.

Agave just saw him in time as he rounded the corner and moved quickly out of his way. She just barely skirted around his huge frame, but something must have caught his attention. 

The massive meathead paused, a slight frown on his face. Then he looked down at his hoof, where just a moment ago he could have sworn he felt tail hairs brush him. He turned around, frowning, but saw nothing. He especially saw nothing when a swift hoof struck him precisely on the neck, and he collapsed in a heap, out cold.

Cassava materialized, and with a flick of his horn, the big brute was swallowed by emerald flames and vanished from sight.

It would be hours later before the unfortunate guard regained consciousness – and hours more to regain sensation in his right side – only to discover himself in a bush on the fringe of Bullion’s property.

Cassava wiped his hooves, satisfied, then vanished again. All the while, Agave winced from her place on the ceiling. She could move pretty quick when fear was a factor.

After making sure the coast was clear, Agave scurried down to ground level again, peered cautiously around the corner this time, then continued on, deeper into the estate.


~~***~~


Agave didn’t remember flying that far down the mansion, yet it seemed to take forever to work her way back down its length towards where Twilight was being held captive.

Twice she almost bumped into somepony. Once, a cart full of food and drink, all shielded with silver covers, came bursting out of an adjacent room. The door promptly smacked Agave on the rear hard enough to propel her several feet. Fortunately, nopony seemed to pick up on the startled squeal she made.

The cart paused as a maid pushed it out into the hall, then had to stop to turn it in the right direction. In that time, Agave scurried out of the way. She was halfway up the wall again when the maid slowed down, a slight frown on her face. She glanced around, eyes narrowed.

“Something up?” someone called from the door she’d just emerged from.

“Coulda sworn I just hit something with the door,” the maid said suspiciously.

On the wall, Agave held her breath. The mare below was so nicely dressed and groomed, but she had such a rough way of talking. Cassava had to have been right about them. She certainly gave off a very dangerous feeling that sent a chill up Agave’s spine every time the mare glanced even remotely in her direction.

“You see anything?” the pony in the room snapped irritably at her.

“No.”

“Then there’s nothing there, dummy! So stop chasing ghosts and report to the boss. We’re on a schedule.”

“Fine, fine,” The maid grumbled. “Don’t get your halter in a bunch.”

She stepped away from the cart and shut the door behind her. But as she did so, Agave heard a strange sound from the other side just as it clicked shut. She could have sworn she’d just heard a groan come from inside. Agave frowned. Were they keeping somepony else prisoner?

She was distracted when the maid started to approach the cart again. As the cart trundled away, Agave slunk off the wall and crept after her.

This was how her second close call came about.

Agave had been tailing the cart-pushing mare for a few minutes, trying to keep a safe distance back. She was so focused on the supposedly dangerous mare’s backside that she forgot to check where she was going and ran face-first into a display case. The impact was enough to make every knickknack and keepsake inside rattle around on their shelves.

That got the maid’s attention again. She froze, then spun around. She was unarmed, but somehow that didn’t make Agave feel better.

“Who’s there?” she snapped. “Come on out right now!”

Agave, of course, was not about to do that. She’d frozen herself improbably with her face still pushed against the base of the case, her body going stiff as a board. Were she visible, she’d be caught out for all to see. 

Thankfully, the maid’s eyes continued to pass right over her. Agave didn’t dare move a muscle, however.

The maid stepped away from her cart, eyes narrow and suspicious. She looked this way and that, slowly scanning the hallway. “I know you’re here,” she growled. “Come on out before I get really nasty!”

Agave was on the verge of panicking, when her eye fell on the unoccupied cart. An idea occurred to her then.

As the maid stalked closer, sweeping the hall for anything even remotely out of place, she would never notice the stealthy clamber of hooves up the wall, onto the ceiling, then over the top of her.

Agave kept her eye on the maid the whole way. And as it turned out, she hadn’t learn her lesson about situational awareness, not until she accidentally head-butted a chandelier.

It was a decently sized chandelier, too, with lots of fine glass fixtures for light bulbs. And it was one of these fixtures that Agave’s bump jostled loose, and sent careening to earth like a tiny, multi-colored comet.

Agave winced at the loud crash, then looked up – or, down as it were. And there laid the maid, spread eagle on the floor, thick glass shards scattered around her head. She let out a groan, then fell limp, out cold.

Agave blinked, not quite believing her good luck. And as she watched, another hole ringed with emerald flames opened up beneath her accidental victim, and the maid disappeared in a puff of green embers.

Um… Well, that could have gone worse.


~~***~~


It took only a few moments for a guard to come lumbering around the nearest corner, along with a few of his closest cohorts. “The hay is going on down here?” he barked, glaring around. “Something break?”

But all he saw was a cart, and a maid pushing it. He stared at her, silently demanding an explanation. All he got was a head jerk in the direction of a debris field of shattered vase shards, water and scattered flowers.

“Clean it up,” the maid snapped. “The boss is expecting me.”

The guard stared at her, not quite believing her audacity, but already she was trotting passed them, quickly making off with her cart.

“Darn mares,” he growled. “Think they run this place…”


~~***~~


The maid had put at least fifty paces between herself and the crime scene before she glanced back, then breathed an immense sigh of relief. 

“Well… this works, I guess,” Agave commented to herself. She’d only wanted to ride the cart and hope it went in Twilight’s direction. But seeing as that hadn’t panned out, she’d had to improvise. Finding herself suddenly all grown up was a little disorienting, but she’d had enough practice with shape-shifting to not let it get to her too badly. However, her increased size couple with the fact that she had to push the cart while trotting on only two legs was proving to be a challenge.

As she tottered along, trying desperately to look at least convincing, she felt the cart jostle. The linen sheet covering the top fluttered, and Agave felt the cart shift as it took the weight of somepony else on its lower shelf.

“Not bad, niña,” came a muffled whisper from the cart’s underside. “But you sure you can pull this off?”

Agave gulped. “I-I guess so.”

“No, no, not with an attitude like that,” Cassava chastised. “You will pull it off, yes?”

Agave nodded to herself. “R-right. I can do this.”

“Better. We’ll work on it later. Until then, heads up; we’re almost there.”

Agave swallowed again. Up ahead, she found a pair of guards standing on either side of an ordinary-looking door. And if Agave wasn’t mistaken, they were the biggest, meanest-looking brutes yet.

“I can do this,” she reminded herself.


~~***~~


One of the guards was stifling a yawn when he picked up on the subtle squeak of an approaching wheel. He turned, then nudged his partner, who also peered around. Approaching them from down the hall was a food cart. He knew it was a food cart because the aroma it was giving off was positively making his mouth water.

“What’s all this for?” he questioned, eying the maid.

He knew he had his orders. Don’t bother the hired help. Stay out of their way. But it had been hours since he’d had a meal, and his gut was starting to do the thinking for him.

The maid looked up at him, a look of surprise on her face. “Oh, u-um.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. Did this one just stutter? Must be new; all the others were about as personable as a block of ice.

The maid cleared her throat, then said, “Boss’s orders. This is for the-the prisoner.”

The guard’s eyebrow went up higher. “Yeah? I ain’t heard nothin’ about that.”

The maid seemed to quail for a moment, then she rallied again. “Well, take it up with the boss. I’m just following orders.”

The two guards exchanged a look, then a chuckle. “Fine, fine. But, uh, you know we gotta inspect the goods, right? Don’t want any chance of food poisoning, you know.”

The maid’s eyes grew big, but already the guards were circling the cart like a pair of brawny vultures. 

One pulled off the cover of the biggest dish – a pasta dish swimming in pesto sauce. He took one look at it and tried to compose his features into one of dissatisfaction, all the while drooling uncontrollably. “Oh boy… this don’t look right at all. Better make sure it’s fit to eat.”

Agave could only flail her hooves helplessly as he scooped up a fork and buried it into the dish.

“The cooks really messed this one up, too,” commented his companion, eying a platter of hoof-sized sandwiches bursting with fresh lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers.

The first guard was on his fifth generous bite when he seemed to realize something, and his eyes turned down – towards the lower shelf. “Something don’t smell right down here, too,” he said.

Agave turned pale, and was just about to say something utterly desperate when the guard pulled aside the linen sheet. And there, sprawled leisurely on a bed of banana bread and cake, was a one-eyed changeling drone.

“Hola. Como te llamas?” he inquired with a coy wink.

The guard stared, pesto smeared all over his muzzle. “Wha—?”

Cassava’s jab was lightning fast. It poked some seemingly random spot just to the right of the stallion’s thick jugular, dug his hoof in, and hooked it.

Instantly, the stallion froze, his every muscle locking up.

In a flash, Cassava spun around on his back, covering himself in more frosting as he did, as lashed out with both hooves. He struck the second guard right above the shin, at the joint, and the whole colossal stallion came down like a toppling tower. He yelped, went face-first into his unearned meal, and overturned the whole cart.

As it flipped, Cassava neatly launched himself up into the air, and landed squarely on the big brute’s back. “Let’s try…,” he said with a smile, thought for a second, then jabbed his hoof into the gap between vertebrae halfway down the guard’s back. “That one.”

The guard let out a pained groan around half-chewed sandwich, and went as limp as a wet noodle, out cold.

“There we go,” Cassava said happily. His horn flared, and a sheet of green fire rippled down his body, eradicating all the confectionary goodness he’d been rolling in. “Now then!” he turned to the remained, paralyzed stallion with an absolutely disarming smile. “I know you can blink still. So! Blink once for yes, twice for no. Simple, yes?”

He gave the stallion a meaningful look. He blinked once.

“Excellent! Now then… Here are your options. I can either give you the worst, most crippling migraine for the next two… is it two? Eh, I don’t remember. Either two or three months. We are talking a headache so bad it will make you long for the sweet embrace of death within hours. So, there is your first option.”

Judging by the horrified look on his face, the guard didn’t much care for that one.

“Option number two,” Cassava went on with a conversation-like brightness, “I poke you here,” he gently placed his hoof right on the base of the big stallion’s spine, “And make you hilariously incontinent for the next few weeks. Your friends will get quite the laugh, if it makes you feel any better. Oh, and I do hope you like diapers.”

Again, a look of horror, perhaps more pronounced than the last. The guard blinked twice very, very hard.

“No?” Cassava said, sounding a little disappointed. “Why does nopony like that one? Oh well, on to option three.”

He circled back around the stallion, and pressed his hoof right under his collarbone. He smiled again, but now there was something in his eye that sent a shiver down his victim’s spine. “There is a nice nerve cluster right here that I like the most. I apply pressure here for a little bit... oh you don't want to know what'll happen. Just thinking about it gives me a chill!" He leaned in a little closer. "Want to find out?" he whispered sinisterly.

The stallion blinked twice, looking absolutely terrified now.

“I don't blame you,” Cassava said. he leaned back, a big smile on his face and cheer in his eye. “And now, for option four! I push this little cluster here,” he placed his hoof on the right side of the stallion’s throat, “And you stay paralyzed from the waist down for… well, I don’t know how long. A few days, the rest of your life, it’s not an exact science. But at least you'll half the rest to work with, so that's something!"

Cassava laughed, then looked the paralyzed stallion in the eye. "I have more options if you want to hear them."

The guard blinked twice.

Cassava sighed. "Always just the four. Well, suite yourself. By now you are probably wonder why I am giving you so many. Well, you see, right now there is something I need you to do for me. And frankly, I like keeping my choices open. It makes things more fun. How you do it, and how cooperative you are, determines what you get. The mother of all headaches, diapers, a wheelchair… or death. Easy to remember, yes?”

The guard blinked once.

“Good. Now then, I am going to un-paralyze you. You are going to use what mobility you have to unlock that door behind you. Raise your voice, and see what happens. Refuse, and see what happens. Ready?”

The guard blinked again.

“Good,” Cassava said with a smile, and as quick as a snake strike, he jabbed the stallion to the right of his throat. 

Instantly his whole body collapsed to the floor and he took a deep, rattling breath.

“Now then,” Cassava said. “Let’s get to work.”

As the stallion fumbled desperately with the door, Agave edged up beside Cassava. "Um... all those things you said you could do to him... were they true?"

Cassava glanced at her, winked, and held a hoof up to his smiling lips. "Sssh. Let's let him figure it out, yes?"


~~***~~


Twilight paced restlessly in front of the window. At any time, she expected to hear a chorus of shouts and a commotion as the whole estate converged on two poor little intruders. Twilight was a part of Bullion’s plans. Agave and Cassava were not. The thought of what he might do to them sent a cold chill down her spine.

So it came as a surprise when she heard bolts and latches unlocking on the other side of the door behind her. She turned towards it, not sure what to expect. The process seemed to take a very protracted amount of time, but eventually the sounds of sliding and clunking metal stopped, and the doorknob jiggled. With a simple click, it came open, and Twilight beheld the chaos on the other side.

Cassava stood proudly on top of an overturned food cart, smiling triumphantly. Pesto, noodles, bread and sandwich stuffing lay strewn across the antique carpet outside, staining it irreparably. In Cassava’s hoof, he held a chunk of banana bread, which he idly munched on.

“Hola, chika,” he greeted. “Funny meeting you in a place like this.”

“Ha ha,” Twilight deadpanned, then asked. “What happened to the guards?”

“Well,” Cassava said, averting his eye, “One is right here, sleeping. The other…,” he giggled mischievously to himself. “Let’s just say he had to find the baño very badly.”

Twilight gave him a confused look, when a fully grown mare wearing a Prench maid uniform poked her head around the doorframe, caught sight of her, and broke into a huge beaming smile.

“Miss Sparkle!” she exclaimed, and bounded over. In the next moment, she had the confused alicorn in a great big hug.

“A-Agave?!” she gasped.

“Yep!” Agave enthused. “It’s me! We’ve come to rescue you!”

Twilight’s mouth flapped uselessly once or twice before she could get it working again. “B-but what are you two doing here? I thought you were still in the changeling district?”

“We were, but…,” Agave trailed off, suddenly looking guilty. “Well… I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I wanted to help Applejack, too!”

“We followed Rainbow Dash, so you know,” Cassava put in. “Of course, we lost her once we got into the city limits. Somepony needs to tell that chika to slow down. It's very inconsiderate to anypony tailing her.”

“We were looking around for her when we saw you being led away by those big scary ponies,” Agave continued. “And we followed you here!”

“And now that we’re all caught up,” Cassava said brightly, “shall we leave?”

“Not yet,” Twilight said right away.

Cassava and Agave both did a double take. “Um… qué?”

Twilight shot him a look. “I let myself get caught for a reason, you know,” she said. “I’m trying to learn what these guys are planning.”

Cassava blinked, shared a look with Agave, blinked at her, then glanced back at Twilight. “Well… that certainly explains the low body count,” he admitted.

Twilight gave him a shocked look. “I would never…! Look, we can’t leave right now.”

“Why not?” Agave asked.

A dark cloud loomed on Twilight’s face. “Bullion has something that I don’t think he should, and it may be the key to figuring out how he knows so much, and maybe even stopping him.”

Cassava cocked his head. “As convenient as that sounds, what gives you that idea?”

“Because,” Twilight said, locking eyes with him. “Bullion has a changeling crown.”

For the first time in a long time, Cassava’s characteristic smile faltered. “Not possible.”

“I don’t know how he got it,” Twilight insisted, “or even if the story he told me was true. But I saw it with my own eyes. And he knew things, things I didn’t even know about changelings. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he himself was one.”

Cassava frowned to himself. He looked down, lost in thought. After a protracted pause, and just as Twilight was about to speak again, he raised his voice. “Tell me. What color were the gemstones on top?”

Twilight gave him a curious look, then said, “It didn’t have any left. The crown looked seriously damaged. It was amazing that it was still in one piece.”

Cassava's frown deepened at that. "Wonderful..."

As Twilight’s confusion mounted, Cassava straightened up. His smile was back in full force. “Alright, you convinced me, reina. Let’s go get this mystery crown of yours. What’s one more stop, anyway, eh?”

“Uh… great?” Twilight said, not quite following Cassava’s mood change.

“So then, where is this big bad crown, eh?” Cassava asked.

Twilight took a moment to think. “Two corridors down, first left, then a right.”

Seeing the look on Cassava’s face, Twilight offered a smug smile. “Bullion might be strategy smart, but he didn’t think to cover my eyes. I’m pretty sure I can lead us anywhere we need to go. And as soon as I can use my horn again, getting out of here should be a breeze.”

To that, Cassava pursed his lips. “No offense, reina, but it might be better for you to stay here. Once they find out you’re loose, things could get ugly.”

“Things are going to get ugly no matter what,” Twilight pointed out. “Just help me out of this inhibitor cuff, will you? It won’t be long before the next patrol comes through.”


~~***~~


Despite Cassava’s many and vocal misgivings, the three set out soon enough. With her horn free of obstruction, Twilight wasted no time in putting it to use. In a matter of seconds, she’d shoved the body into her now unoccupied prison, along with the food cart and every drop of spilt food, right down to the smallest fleck of pesto sauce.

“So, what’s the plan?” Cassava asked casually once the door was closed.

Twilight concentrated on the lock for a moment, and the deadbolt snapped itself shut. “Well, I may not be able to shapeshift, and I’m not too confident about teleporting around in here at the moment. But I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“What kind of tricks?” Agave asked curiously, cocking her head. “Me and Cassava just turn invisible.”

Twilight smiled at the look of intrigue in the young filly’s eyes. “Well… it’s something like that. Let’s just say I found a couple ways of sneaking into the Canterlot library after closing hours.”

She tried to ignore the huge grin Cassava suddenly developed.

“A simple muffling spell and a little light-bending should do the trick. Now let’s hurry up before –”

“Hey! What’re you doing out?!”

Twilight rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Oh for the love of Celestia,” she grumbled, spun around, and fired a bolt of violet light right at the lumbering mountain of a pony headed their way. It struck him right over the heart, and with a small pop, there was suddenly a very magnificent potted fichus sitting in the middle of the hall.

Cassava raised an eyebrow. “And so the death toll begins,” he intoned in mock grimness.

Twilight puffed up indignantly. “He’ll be fine in a few hours, okay?! Let’s just go, already!”


~~***~~


After disposing of yet another body – by placing the plant in an unoccupied room by the window, to get some sun before the metamorphosis wore off – Twilight was quickly becoming impatient to leave.

“Agave, come here,” she ordered, and the little filly obeyed without question. “You’re going to be sticking with me,” she said. “This is no place for a little filly.”

“I’m ten already,” Agave complained with a pout, but she stayed by Twilight’s side. She was quickly distracted when Twilight’s horn started to glow, and the air around them began to quiver.

She watched little motes of twinkling light form and grow bigger and bigger, until they formed a ring around the two of them. Then, with a high pitched sound, they expanded, enveloping them both in a dazzling light. Agave shielded her eyes, but when she lowered her hooves a moment later, she found the hall as it was. Except… the walls and floor seemed to bend and undulate ever so slightly, like she was looking through a layer of water at the world outside.

“There,” Twilight said. “That should keep us covered. Okay – stick close to me. It wouldn’t be a good idea to poke anything outside of the bubble.”

Agave nodded, and climbed up onto Twilight’s back. Once she was in place, Twilight set out at a quick pace, half galloping down the hallway.

“So… why did you want me to stay with you?” Agave asked as they went.

“Well, I was kind of hoping I could ask you something.”

Agave frowned, then nodded. “Um… okay.”

“Changeling crowns. Do you know how they are made?”

Agave frowned to herself, both in confusion and thought. “Why do you want to know?”

Twilight took a moment to answer, and when she did her tone was serious. “Bullion said a lot of things when I talked to him. And some of things he knew… it just didn’t seem possible. So I need to verify something.”

“Okay,” Agave said back, but it still took her a few seconds to respond. “Um… Mom only told me that I’d find out when I grew up. But Applejack has hers, right? What did she do to get hers? Did she tell you?”

Twilight’s frown deepened. “She did. And it’s not the answer I was hoping for.”

Agave cocked her head. “Why?”

“Because her crown formed from her magic, as well as another’s. Which implies Bullion was right and he does know how they are made. But how could he know that?”

Agave bit her lip. “Could he have learned somewhere else?”

“I don’t see how. You didn’t even know, and if a queen won’t tell her foal, how could some pony figure it out?”

“Do you… do you think the crown told him?” Agave mumbled, sounding nervous.

Twilight felt her stomach clench at the thought. “Well, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen today. We just have to get it from him before it does something worse.”

Agave fell quiet for a long time as Twilight ran, lost in some very troubling thoughts. Could crowns really tell ponies stuff? She’d never heard of anything like that. But if they were made out of magic, anything could be possible, right?

Agave snapped back to reality when Twilight abruptly pulled to a halt with a hiss. She looked up, and felt her breath catch. Up ahead, two burly stallions were walking in step behind a pudgy fellow in an expensive suit.

“It’s Bullion,” Twilight hissed.

Worse, the procession was heading in their direction. And with those big brutes flanking either side of Bullion, it left precious little room to skirt around them.

Twilight backed up slowly, when their conversation reached her ears.

“Now that everything’s ready to go,” Bullion was saying, “make sure to get the word out to the relevant parties. I want this to be as grand a spectacle as it can possibly be!”

One of the guards eyed him. “Even that guy down in Ponyville?”

Bullion nodded. “Yes, yes, including Steel Shod.”

Twilight gasped, clapped a hoof to her mouth, then remembered that nopony could hear her, anyway.

“Boss,” one of the guards said, “didn’t he turn you down?”

“That he did,” Bullion said, still smiling and nodding. “Such misguided pride in that one. But I do believe he would relish a chance to vent some of that pent up aggression towards Her Highness. And if I am so lucky, she will take care of that particular loose end for me.”

Twilight felt herself turning pale. Bullion had tried to recruit Steel Shod, too? Her first thought to that was Rainbow’s voice in the back of her head giving her a big fat ‘I told you so’.

But he hadn’t sided with Bullion, said an optimistic voice in the back of her head.

He hadn’t ratted Bullion out, either, said a more cynical one.

I’m sure he had his reasons…

Reasons that probably involve hurting a lot of innocent changelings, no doubt. Or did you forget how much he hates AJ?

Twilight frowned to herself. Just how far did Bullion’s reach really go? How many ponies were on his payroll? If Guard Captains were being targeted, just how high up the ladder did his influence reach?

She was distracted by another problem; she was quickly running out of hallway to back down.

She considered flying over them, but that presented several problems. The biggest being that her cloaking field didn’t extend far enough to hide her wings. The other was the fact that, while she was muted, her wings would still blow the air around them with every beat. The first problem she could easily find a solution for. The second she could not.

She couldn’t teleport around them because while she was soundproofed right now, she’d never get the muting field up before she reappeared, so the distinctive bang caused by the spell would definitely get noticed.

But maybe…

Up ahead, Bullion came to a stop. Twilight looked up and noticed him pulling out a pocket watch.

“I think it’s about time,” Bullion commented, then glanced at his hired muscle. “Get everypony in position.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard on his left said. As he turned towards a door, Twilight seized her chance.

First a left, then a right…

“Hold on tight, Agave,” Twilight instructed. As a pair of hooves tightened their grip around her neck, she cast her eyes down the length of the hall, down towards a distant door that she prayed was as familiar as it seemed. She concentrated, her horn glowed, and with an unheard bang of breaking space and time, she and Agave both vanished.

In a split second, the world reappeared around them. On Twilight’s back, she felt Agave wobble as her sense of direction abruptly reoriented itself, but she managed to keep from slipping sideways off of her back.

Twilight quickly looked around, and smiled to herself. She found herself back in that study lined with book shelves and suites of armor, a few feet off of the floor in case her aim would have put her inside something.

“This is it,” Twilight said as she set herself down. She quickly looked around, and verified that the coast was clear. The door was shut behind her, and only a single lamp was lit on the desk, like a small spotlight marking her destination.

Agave quickly lifted off her back and buzzed through the air in Twilight’s shadow as she made a beeline for the desk. She alighted on the desk itself as Twilight hit the carpet at a quick trot and swiftly rounded the desk.

“Okay,” Twilight said, “If I was Bullion, there’ll be some kind of spell protecting the crown. So when I grab it, we’re going to have to get out of here quick.”

“I second that,” said Cassava.

“Ah!” screamed Twilight.

The one eyed drone leaned back from her shoulder, looking hurt. “What was that for?”

“Don’t… do that!” Twilight gasped, clutching at her heart. “Where did you even come from?”

Cassava grinned, then tapped his horn. “Tracking spell, sonrisa. I have to keep track of the little reina somehow.”

It still took Twilight several deep breaths before she calmed down again. “Just… just don’t sneak up on me next time.”

“As you wish,” Cassava said with an amused smile. He offered a hoof, and pulled Twilight back to all fours.

After she shot him one more murderous glare, Twilight turned towards the desk. Instead of just pulling drawers out at random, however, she closed her eyes and illuminated her horn.

Cassava and Agave both exchanged uncomprehending looks before Twilight straightened up again, and pointed at the bottom-most drawer on the left side. “That one,” she said with absolute certainty. She reached out and placed a hoof on the wrought iron latch, exchanged a look and nod with Cassava, then quickly pulled it open.

And out came a completely empty drawer.

Twilight’s hoof was halfway in when she realized what she was looking at. Or rather, what she wasn’t looking at.

“Um…,” Cassava muttered carefully. “I… don’t think that was the right one.”

Twilight blinked, completely taken aback. “But… but it’s the only one with any kind of sensor spell woven around it. It should be this one!”

Cassava hummed to himself. “That would be the logical thing to think. But let’s try another theory, shall we?”

Twilight glanced at him, right as all the lights in the room burst to life. And as she jumped, the doors banged open.

“Ah. So trap it is,” Cassava said with a smile. “excelente!”

Ten humongous stallions poured into the study, which suddenly felt awfully crowded with their hulking shapes filling it out. There was only one exception in their midst, and he sidled his portly frame into the room at a much more casual pace.

“I must say,” Bullion said with a smug smile, “Twilight Sparkle, you are a predictable one. Or did you think I’d pique your curiosity for no other reason than to be an insufferable tease?”

Twilight glared at him. “So you were just toying with me?”

Bullion laughed. “It was just a little fun, yes,” he chortled. “Though, I admit I wanted to see your resourcefulness for myself. And you did not disappoint! These two, on the other hoof,” he added, casting his eyes towards the two changelings in the room. When he did, his smile wilted somewhat.

Agave tensed, then scurried off the desk to hide behind Twilight. Cassava’s grin only grew bigger.

“So, the daughter of Queen Aconita and… oh my. Is that Aconita’s infamous attack dog I see?”

Cassava cocked an impressed eyebrow. “You’ve done your homework, ustede,” he said conversationally.

“Yes, well,” Bullion chortled smugly, “when new players appear on the board, I’d like to know who and what they are. Unfortunately, I have no need for either of you. In fact, a little regicide might give this campaign the extra little kick it needs.”

Twilight glared, her horn sparking. “You’ll have to go through me, Bullion,” she said.

Bullion sighed. “Don’t be like that, my dear.”

“You’re talking about murder, Bullion,” she snapped. “Whatever point you might have had, nothing is worth it when the price is paid in blood.”

Bullion just smiled at her, giving her a look like she was being a precocious little brat. “Still so naïve. Well, no matter. The crown isn’t here. Your little excursion out of your room ends here. Oh, by all means,” he added, noting the look in Twilight’s eye. “You can try that fancy teleportation magic you are so gifted at. Though you might not like what happens.” He chuckled knowingly.

“Well then,” Cassava said, still just as casual as ever, “it seems we’ve got ourselves a little standoff. Your… one… two… three… nine guards against one very short tempered princess. If you want my opinion, you didn’t bring enough bad guys.”

Bullion grinned, just as the rest of his security detail turned up. Twilight heard the thunder of their stampeding hooves long before she saw them, but once she did, she found the doorway completely blocked by huge, muscular bodies.  There was no telling how many guards there actually were, only that they filled out the hallway in both directions as far as Twilight could see around the doorframe.

“How about two hundred to one?” Bullion asked. “Two hundred of the best mercenaries and hired guns bits can buy? Oh, and I might add; several are quite adept at dealing with short tempered unicorns.”

Cassava broke into a huge smile. “That’s more like it!”

Twilight shot him a glare. “Who’s side are you on?”

“Oh come now, Twilight!” Cassava laughed. “Backs to the wall, countless enemies at the front! This is what ballads are made of!”

Twilight gave him a disapproving look. “Sorry, but we’ll have to leave the song-writing ‘till later.”

Cassava gave her a look, still grinning ear to ear. “Well I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Twilight sighed.

Cassava’s smile started to fade as a look of curiosity took over. “What do you mean, then?”

Twilight turned back to stare down the small army bursting through the door in front of her. “Just stay behind me. And you might want to hold on to something.”

Cassava’s confusion only deepened.

Bullion saw the look in Twilight’s face. He chortled a little and gave her a disapproving look. “Come now, Miss Sparkle. I have enough guards to pose a threat to even one of your abilities. Do you honestly mean to fight?”

“No,” Twilight said. “In fact, I was never going to in the first place.”

Bullion cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Twilight looked him dead in the eye, frowning. “You were right, Bullion. I let you catch me so that I could learn your plans. But also, I did it so I could stop you. What you forgot to ask yourself was how I was going to.”

Bullion chuckled. “Am I to believe that you being cornered in a magically sealed box was part of your plan?”

“Not really,” Twilight admitted. “But you made one critical mistake.”

“And that is?”

For the first time, a grin broke across Twilight’s face. “You let me teleport in.”

Bullion thought about that for a moment, trying to figure out her point. Slowly, he began to frown to himself, his confusion building. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” he chuckled, though there was a look of concern starting to creep into his eyes.

“Do you know how dangerous teleportation magic is?” Twilight asked conversationally. “Really dangerous. Until you get the hang of it, one tiny slip can send you miles in any direction. So, it only makes sense that precautions would be in place to make sure the trainee can always be found by the trainer.”

Bullion stared, waiting for her to go on… then his eyes opened wide in dawning comprehension.

And that was when his mansion was split open like a melon.

It wasn’t a colossal blow that ripped through timber and masonry, however. Boards and struts inside the walls suddenly bowed outward of their own accord, launching nails and rivets like missiles. Wallpaper cracked and folded like an accordion. Support beams split and curled back, pulling apart the very walls and ceiling like curtains being drawn. The entire roof burst open like a flower spreading its petals.

When all was said and done, the whole mansion laid spread open like a book, right up to a lone study, the only room to still remain intact. 

It was through a chaos of splitting walls and ceilings that she trotted with slow, measured strides. Only enough framework remained to support her ascent into the mansion. The rest was pried apart and shoved aside, brick by brick, timber by timber. And where her hooves touched, stone turned soft as butter. Wood burst into flames. Carpet and upholstery withered away, blackening before scattering like ash wherever it touched her, as if in shame.

To say Princess Celestia was mad would be a terrific understatement.

“Lord Bullion,” she said, and even while using a level speaking voice, it boomed from her throat, rattling the teeth of everypony who heard it. “I would have words with you.”

Stallions rippling with powerful muscles turned, took one look at the approaching princess, and promptly lost all color in their features. They could feel the wall of heat that rushed over them, hotter than a summer’s day sun and growing hotter the closer the diarch drew.

Celestia’s eyes shined with an intense, barely restrained power. That power was currently lancing off of her horn and surging through Bullion’s manor, which bore the full brunt of her anger. Her mane dances and whipped about like the flames of a bonfire.

“The rest of you children,” Celestia added, regarding the mass of petrified ponies standing in her way, “shall wait your turn.”

Her horn flashed, beaming out with the intensity of the sun. Twilight shielded her eyes against the brilliant glare, recoiling slightly. When the light faded, she peeked over her hoof and gasped.

Everypony was gone. Not a single guard remained. Only Bullion stood, petrified, in the middle of the doorway. And for once, he was not smiling.

“I am sure there is a very good reason why I am finding Princess Twilight Sparkle in your care,” Celestia prompted, drawing still closer. She put her hoof down on what used to be the hallway connecting to the study, and her hooves branded their shape into the wood panels. 

The moment she was clear, everything snapped back together. Walls rejoined. The ceiling overhead reconnected. Everything went back to the way it had been in a split second.

“But I am finding myself at a loss for what that might be.” Celestia said.

“Princess!” Twilight called out.

Some of the wrath emanating from Celestia faded at the sound of her voice. She smiled towards her, a look of relief on her face. “Are you hurt, Twilight?”

“No. I knew you’d come! Bullion’s the one behind everything! The changeling attack in Ponyville, everything!”

“I see,” Celestia said in a measured tone. She returned her attention towards the still petrified stallion standing in front of her. “So, you are the one responsible for so much grief. I am deeply disappointed, Bullion. You have changed so much.”

“Everything…,” Bullion stammered, licked his lips, then tried again. “Everything I did, I did for Equestria.”

Celestia sighed. “That is what disappoints me the most.”

Bullion’s mouth flapped uselessly. His usual charm and charisma failed him. In desperation, he did the only thing he could do; the only thing that made sense. He turned, and he ran like his life depended on it.

Celestia’s eyes burned brighter. Her horn erupted in a nova of light. Once again, Twilight shielded her eyes against the flash. She felt the intense surge of heat, felt the walls rattle and shudder with the force of Celestia’s spell. Then, everything went still again.

Twilight opened her eyes, half expecting to find the mansion in ruins. Instead, she found herself looking at a bizarre sight.

From what she could guess had happened, Celestia had once again pulled on Bullion’s mansion. Only this time, she’d imploded a hallway, bringing tons of building material crashing down on a single point. From the epicenter, Twilight just made out a pair of chubby legs sticking out motionlessly.

Celestia flicked her head as if trying to get her mane out of her eyes, and the hall recreated itself in perfect fashion, unceremoniously dropping Bullion’s body to the ground with a heavy thud. He groaned once, then fell silent.

With a sigh, Celestia turned away. Her mane calmed before floating down to once again drift serenely on an unseen breeze. Her eyes dimmed until they returned to normal, and her horn grew dark.

She cast a sad, disappointed look towards Bullion, a stallion she’d watched grow from a babe into the graying old stallion sprawled on the floor before her. How much he’d changed…

Celestia turned away, and before she could call out towards Twilight, she found that very same pony giving her a hug. 

“I knew you’d come!” Twilight said, smiling with relief.

Celestia, too, couldn’t help but feel her spirits lift. This pony, on the other hand, was exactly the same as she’d been the day they’d first met. Albeit with less wild, controllable bursts of magic bordering on calamity.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” Celestia said, placing a hoof around her. “When I detected you teleporting inside Canterlot, I knew my worst fears had come true.”

“I was afraid you might be asleep,” Twilight admitted. “Or distracted with something else, or, or…”

“Yes, well,” Celestia said with a light laugh. “Sleeping was a very real possibility. Had I not been roused… I don’t know what might have happened.”

Twilight leaned back to look up at her mentor questioningly. It was about that time that she realized that she was hugging Princess Celestia and quickly took one big step away.

“Um… what woke you up? Has… has Applejack…?”

Celestia gave her a reassuring smile. “No, not yet. Her whereabouts remain unknown, for better or for worse. No, something else saw fit to pay me a visit. Or rather, someone.”

Twilight cocked her head in confusion when a voice cleared itself somewhere to her right.

“I hope you will forgive my rudeness, Your Majesty. But it’s not every day that a train is hijacked and then sees fit to return to its port of calling.”

Twilight turned towards the voice, took one look at the speaker, and felt her jaw drop. “Y-you?! But, but… you?!”

The stallion smiled back. “Perhaps proper introductions should be made for once. I am Trochanter, the Spymaster of Equestria. A pleasure to meet you face to face.”

All was quiet for a long, protracted beat. Then, from further inside the study, Cassava broke into fits of uncontrollable laughter.


~~***~~


The wind blew through moonlit treetops, causing them to sigh and whisper in the darkness. Nothing else stirred, save for a lone owl roosting in an old maple tree. The bird ruffled its feathers and surveyed its territory. Its belly grumbled, eager for breakfast. So far, however, there’d been nothing. The usually bountiful grove it called home was silent as the grave. Not so much as a vole scurried through the underbrush.

Disappointed, the owl started to spread his wings to find a new hunting ground, when all of a sudden, a flock of doves bolted into the sky, trill cries filling the air. The owl watched them go, both curious and slightly concerned. Doves were rarely active at night, not unless something gave them reason to be. The owl craned its neck, peering through the night in the direction of the tree the flock had been roosting in.

For a minute, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the tree quivered, and with a great cracking and splitting sound, it toppled. No sooner did it vanish from sight than the poplar standing in front of it came crashing down as well, sending several blackbirds racing into the sky.

The night now was fill with the sound of splintering wood and breaking underbrush. And it was drawing closer towards the owl’s chosen perch. He could see what was about to happen. The owl spread his wings and took off into the night sky, just as something smashed the base of the tree he’d been sitting in. The whole tree came down with a mighty groan, flattening a grove of poplars.

He looked down, hooting indignantly. And through the moonlight, he caught sight of something tall, something draped in orange. Whatever it was, its head was held low to the ground. Every time a tree found itself in the creature’s way, a green spark would leap off of it, and the base of the tree would explode in a shower of shrapnel.

The creature continued on its chosen path, never deviating in the slightest, towards twinkling lights that sparkled on the horizon.
	
> Chapter 22: Sting Like A Bee
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

 
The Ponyville Guard Station was a place of quiet tension. Even at night, guards moved along the fortified walls and amid the rows of barracks set up in the courtyard. Vigilance through diligence: that was Steel Shod’s motto, and all those under him lived by that motto, whether they wanted to or not.

A call went out, and the portcullis rose in the gatehouse, allowing a weary patrol inside the safety of the heavily fortified walls. It had been a long, boring day for most who returned. By all accounts, Ponyville was just as sleepy and mundane as ever, and that was during the daylight hours. At night not even birds stirred in the trees.

The tension caused by the attack two days prior had all but evaporated. Guards forced into double shifts were starting to grumble when nopony was listening, and many a thought turned towards distant loved ones. But never let it be said that a member of the Royal Guard ever shirked his duty for any reason.

Down in the courtyard, a member of the tired patrol paused to look up at the monolithic tower at the heart of the miniature keep. Most of it was still covered in scaffolding, and great chunks of the structure were still missing completely. Instead of a mighty pillar, the tower looked more like a tree trunk splintered by a lightning strike.

“Wonder what’s taking the princesses so long to call off the quarantine,” he grumbled. “Everything’s been so quiet all day.”

“And all night,” grunted his partner, who unceremoniously dropped his spear into a rack of similar weapons. “They probably have their reasons. Sure makes our jobs easier picking out the bad ones with all the goods ones in one place, right?”

“If there were any,” the first responded, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, what I wouldn’t give for a little action around here…”

His partner snorted. “Yeah right. I’m just waiting for all of this to finally blow over. My little filly has a dance recital tomorrow.” He then turned to look at the tower as well. “What do you think the captain’s been doing up there all day, anyway? He isn't usually one to coop himself up like this.”

“Besides blowing his top?” the first stallion said. “Who knows. From what I heard, he got it stuck to him pretty good by that changeling queen.”

“Oh great,” grumbled the second, glowering. “So he’ll probably be up there for a few more days, at least.”

“At least,” the first agreed with a chuckle. “I say let him. He ain’t missing much. And if he’s up there, he can’t jump down our throats.”

His partner laughed under his breath, and was just about to agree when the heavy doors to the tower swung open with a heavy creak. And out came the very pony they were just talking about. Steel Shod burst out of the tower, fully dressed in plate armor and carrying his weapon in a sheath at his side. He moved fast, marching with purpose across the yard.

“You and your big mouth,” the tired guard said to his partner, and both exchanged weary looks. And though they would have loved nothing more than to pretend they didn't see their superior, shrug off their heavy armory and hit the hay, both took up their spears once again and trudged in the captain’s direction. Never let it be said that the Guard shirked their duties.

They were halfway across the yard when the alarm bells starting clanging in the watchtowers along the walls. One glanced up at the nearest one looming on a nearby corner of the fort wall and frowned at it. “Now what’s going on?”

“If I had to guess,” The other said dourly, “you’re about to get your wish.”


~~***~~


Captain Steel Shod moved with purpose and determination not seen in him for many hours. He headed straight for the main gates, a grim glint in his eye. In his hoof, he carried a folded up piece of parchment. It bore no markings indicating where it might have come from or who sent it, but Steel Shod regarded it with a thoughtful frown every few paces.

Again he unfolded it and read the short communique on the other side. It couldn’t have been long – only two sweeps of his eyes and he’d finished. And when he was done, Steel Shod’s scowl grew deeper.

So then, that gelding got his wish.

Steel Shod crumpled the note up between his hooves, then tucked it into his collar. He was glaring angrily, but there was something else in him now. An opportunity had just presented itself, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away.

“Cadet,” he said tersely.

At his side, the unfortunate delivery pony trotted, hoping he would go totally unnoticed by his superior. When he was addressed, he jumped and stood up straight. “Sir?” the cadet responded, snapping to attention. 

“Inform the division; we’re going to high alert.”

The cadet’s eyes grew huge. “We… we are?”

Steel Shod nodded. “This is a matter of life and death, son. A threat to all of Equestria has just appeared inside her borders. It can approach us from any direction at any time. I need you to make sure word gets out to the sergeants and that the weapon is put on standby. They will take care of the rest. Can you do that?”

The stallion gulped, but nodded heartily. “Y-yes sir! Right away, sir!”

Steel Shod nodded. “Good, good. Now, Go track down Sergeant Willow. I need to have a word with him.”

At this, however, the cadet paused. “Um, didn’t you already give him an assignment, sir?”

Steel Shod grew still. “Excuse me?”

The cadet’s excitement wilted under the cold, questioning look his superior gave him. “Well… after his debriefing on his reconnoiter into the Everfree, he... he departed on assignment almost immediately. He said his orders came from you.”

Steel Shod’s eyes narrowed. “Did he now?”


~~***~~


Pinkie Pie was in her element. A mixing bowl cradled expertly in one hoof and a whisk brandished in the other, she danced around Sugarcube Corner’s expansive kitchen. She skipped from one project to the next – a grand total of six batches of cookies and a cake – all the while singing happily to herself. Batter in her mane, flower patches blotting her coat and dough on her lips, she was as happy a pony as a pony could be. She could keep this rhythm up for hours!

She didn’t need much reason to celebrate on the average day, but since she knew that Applejack was on the mend, well, that was more cause to throw a party than ever before! Sure she was in Canterlot, but when she got back, oh boy, she was going to blow her holey hooves off with the shindig she was cooking up!

Pinkie paused improbably halfway across the room, a puzzled look on her face. Or should it be a hoedown? Hoedig? Shindown? Hmm… This would require further thought. But later; Oven # 4 was dinging.

Pinkie twirled on over, set her mixing bowl down and flipped open the oven. One full cookie sheet of Nuttery Buttery Cookie Deluxe MKVIII, done to perfection! She took the tray out and placed it carefully on the stove top, then peered at each one with a critical eye.

“Nuttyness… check. Butteryness… hmm…” she mumbled to herself, then popped one in her mouth. She chewed carefully, extruciatingly, and completely ignorant of the fact that it literally had just come out of an oven.

A minute later, she pouted. “Aw… I could’ve sworn I had it that time.” Then she beamed. “Oh well! Nuttery Buttery Cookie Deluxe MKIX, start!”

Pinkie scooped up her mixing bowl again, and was halfway across the kitchen to check on the cupcakes when a soft knocking brought her to a stop again.

Confused, she looked around. First, she eyed the kitchen appliances. Past experience told her that knocking or banging or gurgling or any strange sound was usually very, very bad. Mrs. Cake was still finding bits of burnt cookies from the last time an oven exploded. That tended to Happen more than one might think.

But Pinkie soon verified that the sound hadn’t come from any of the shiny new ovens or fans or stoves or sinks, or the automated mixer Pinkie wasn’t allowed to touch under any circumstances (Which was going to make getting the batter out of it a real challenge). When it sounded again, she homed in on the sound, and found it coming from the window over the main sink, namely from a holey black hoof, a matching form and two big, glowing blue eyes.

Pinkie blinked, a little curious as she armed the party cannon without thinking. The changeling’s flailing hooves gave her paused. Nonchalantly kicking the portable party howitzer out of sight, she trotted over to the window and pried it open. “Hi!” she greeted.

“U-um… hello… Pinkie Pie,” responded the would-be intruder in a voice that said she’d nearly peed herself in fright. Only her eyes peered over the sill, just in case another firearm appeared pointed in her general vicinity. “I-it’s me, Bumblebee. We kinda almost died together earlier today? Please don’t shoot me,” she added in a hushed undertone.

Pinkie smiled apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you might’ve been a cookie thief.”

Bumblebee gave her a perplexed look – the first of many. “C-cookie thief?”

Pinkie’s eyes narrowed. She glanced over Bumblebee’s head and up and down the street, critical of everything she spotted. “Can’t be too careful. When it comes to bakeries, it’s pony-eat-pony in these parts. Gotta keep the goods safe.”

She caught the eye of somepony down the street – a khaki mare with a trio of wrapped candies on her hips. Both stared each other down, Pinkie making “I’m watching you” motions all the while, while the other slowly placed a trash bag on the corner, then backed through a door, eyes narrowed in her direction. Then Pinkie turned to Bumblebee and beamed.

“So! Wanna cookie?”

Less than two minutes in Pinkie’s presence, and already Bumblebee was at a complete loss. So, she just nodded.

As Pinkie Pie moved away from the window, her guest carefully climbed in over the sink and into the kitchen. While Pinkie was preoccupied with selecting a peace offering, Bumblebee glanced out the window, first up the street, then down it, before quietly sealing it behind her.

“I didn’t know Steel Shod was letting changelings out again,” Pinkie commented from across the room.

Bumblebee winced. “Um… well… he’s… not,” she mumbled, looking at the floor.

Pinkie paused and frowned. “Wait, but if he’s not letting anyone out, and you are out, then…”

The realization drew a dramatic gasp from Pinkie and a look of terror from Bumblebee.

“P-please don’t tell the Guard,” Bumblebee squeaked out quickly. “I just had to get out. I can’t take it! I need to find… t-to find…”

“Cloudkicker.”

Bumblebee blinked. “Wha…?”

Pinkie beamed back in total understanding. “You need to find Cloudkicker!”

Another slow, stunned blink, then Bumblebee said slowly, “Uh… sure, okay. I’m looking for Cloudkicker.”

Pinkie giggled. “I knew it! My second guess was going to be Applejack, but what’re the chances of that, right?”

Bumblebee’s laugh was quite awkward indeed. “Ha ha, yeah, what’re the chances. You… wouldn’t happen to, maybe… know where Applejack is, though, would you? S-since you brought it up and all…”

Pinkie stopped to think, then said in one big breath, “Well, she’s either in Canterlot, ooooor in a deep dark forest somewhere succumbing to an ancient curse that’ll rob her of all reason and turn her into a deranged monster bent on devouring all the love in Equestria if not the world! Either, or.”

Bumblebee just stared wide-eyed at her and started to turn pale.

“But she’s probably in Canterlot,” Pinkie beamed. “Cookie?”

Bumblebee numbly accepted the treat, but didn’t eat it. Her head was starting to spin. “So… so she is in Canterlot,” Bumblebee mumbled.

“Maybe!” Pinkie said, popping up over the counter for just a moment before vanishing again. Oven #2 was dinging. “Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s fine and totally not about to ravage the countryside on a quest to fill an un-fillable hole in her being!”

Bumblebee grew paler. She placed her cookie on a nearby plate when Pinkie wasn’t looking. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

Meanwhile, Pinkie pulled out another piping hot tray filled to maximum capacity with plump chocolate chip cookies. She quickly placed it on the stove top to cool, and immediately shoved an awaiting tray into the now-vacant oven, set the timer with a flick of her hoof, and turned back towards Bumblebee, beaming bright as usual.

“I don’t know where Cloudy is, but you can stay here if you want. Baking is fun, but baking with friends is funner!”

As confusing and high-speed as Pinkie was, that last comment drew Bumblebee up short. “F…Friends?” she said, sounding like she’d never heard the word before.

“Yep!” Pinkie chirped. “Friends!”

“I’m… I’m your friend? I’m… not used to having friends. I mean, everypony acts nice, but I know I’m weird and… and stuff. But, you want to be my friend?”

“Of course, silly!” Pinkie beamed. “Everypony is my friend, but you saved Applejack, Rainbow, Nana and me from that nasty monster in Murmuring Swamp. That makes us super good friends!”

Bumblebee blinked at her, awestruck. Then, as if unsure about it, she started to smile. “Okay… Okay! I’ll be your friend, too! Friends… That sounds…”

She hadn’t even finished when several things happened at once. Firstly, she realized that, inexplicably, there was an apron around her neck now, and the whoosh of a high speed pink pony in the air. The ladle stuck awkwardly in one leg hole, she had no explanation for. “… Great?” Bumblebee finished apprehensively. It was starting to dawn on her that maybe she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

Pinkie beamed brightly, just as there was a knock on the far door.

“Pinkie Pie?” called Mrs. Cake’s muffled voice. “Is everything alright in there? You’re not touching the Mix-a-tron 3000, are you?” she added with a sterner tone of voice.

“Of course not!” Pinkie responded, as she broke an egg into the automatic mixing bowl – without touching it herself, of course. “I haven’t touched it at all!”

“Good, good,” Mrs. Cake said through the door, though she sounded suspicious. She’d seen the way Pinkie’s eyes sparkled when they’d first unboxed the brand new – and VERY expensive – kitchen appliance. “Well, it’s getting very late, dearie. So, please try to keep it down in there.”

“Okie dokie, Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie chimed back brightly. “Just two more batches and I’ll be done!”

Hooves hesitated on the other side of the door. Then, after a few moments, Mrs. Cake ambled away towards the front of the store.

Once she was gone, Bumblebee emerged from her hiding place beneath one of two sinks. As soon as she was out in the open, Pinkie rounded on her. Her expression was half excited, half apologetic. “Um… could you, maybe, get that batter out of the Mix-a-tron 3000 for me?” she asked sheepishly.

“O-Okay…”

Quickly she trotted over, hyper aware of everything she did. She’d just made a friend – she didn’t want to ruin it already.

The Mix-a-tron 3000, she found out, was just an automated whisk and stirring device, still shiny and with that fresh-out-of-the-box smell. She fretted for a moment, then located the big red button with a stop sign printed on it, hit that, and carefully retrieved the huge bowl of fresh cookie batter once the heavy duty – and mildly terrifying – mixing apparatus had slowed to a halt.

When she turned around, bowl floating over her head in her telekinetic grip, she found Pinkie standing in one place for once, a strange look on her face. “It really is late, huh?” she said.

“Um… yes,” Bumblebee mumbled back. “About midnight, I think…”

“Hmm.”

Bumblebee cocked her head slightly, looking worried at Pinkie’s sudden melancholy. “Um… I’m sorry if this might be a little personal… you don’t have to answer if you want, but… why are you baking so late at night?” she asked as she set the batter down. “Is… is something bothering you? Because, um, friends listen to other friends’ problems, right? Is that what they do?”

Pinkie looked around, then shook her head quick. “Oh, nononono, nothing’s wrong. Just thinking!” Then with a bounce, she moved to another stove. “Applejack sure is taking a while, huh? But that’s okay! As long as she’s okay, I’m okay, too! And as long as she’s with Twilight and the princesses, she will be A-okay, which is even better!”

Bumblebee frowned slightly at her. She wasn’t much of a pony-person; she could never read others very well. But even as socially inept as she was, something about Pinkie’s behavior bothered her. She wanted to say something – kind of. But… it really wasn’t her business, right? She didn’t want to be nosy after just making a friend. That would be rude, right? And Applejack was always telling everyone to be on their best behaviors around ponies.

She closed her open mouth and resolved to just silently sit back and let Pinkie do her thing, when a heavy thump in another room caused her ear to prick up.

Pinkie heard it, too, and she paused, flower bag in her mouth. “What was that?”

There was a commotion on the other side of the kitchen door. Voices, some of them raised, a clambering and clattering of things being pushed around, and several heavy hooves drawing closer.

“W-wait, you can’t just-!” cried out Mrs. Cake’s voice in protest, right as the door banged open.

In came a group of burly, armor-clad stallions, all wearing identically dour expressions. At the front of the pack was a thin, weasely fellow with deep dark circles under his eyes and a creepy grin on his face.

“For the last time, lady,” he drawled, barely paying Mrs. Cake any attention at all, “this is official Guard business, so do me a favor and stay out of my way.”

Mrs. Cake spluttered something about papers and rights, but was summarily blocked off behind two humongous stallions barring the kitchen door like a pair of living barricades.

On the other side of them, two more guards walked in step behind the first, who had his eyes set on Pinkie Pie. His unsettling grin grew. “Ah, just the mare I was looking for,” he said in what was probably meant to be a friendly tone. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, I take it?”

Pinkie Pie cocked her head to one side and glanced between the stallions in front of her. “Um, yeah,” she said back, though now her smile was gone. “But everypony just calls me Pinkie Pie.”

“Good! Good,” giggled the thin stallion. “My name is Sergeant Willow. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Pinkie blinked. A stranger in Ponyville that she didn’t know about? Something fishy was going on here, because there wasn’t anypony she didn’t know in Ponyville. Something super-duper-tuna-fishy…

“I simply hate to do this at such a late hour,” Willow said, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm, “but I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to come with us. Official orders from Princess Celestia you see; we are to ensure your safety in a very safe place. Why, who knows what could happen to you if you didn’t come with us. I absolutely shudder to think of the possibilities.”

“You’re not shuddering,” Pinkie pointed out.

“It’s a figure of speech. Now, if you would?” He moved to one side, and motioned towards the door.

Pinkie was openly frowning in suspicion by now. “I don’t know…”

“Oh don’t say that,” Willow pouted fictitiously. “After all the trouble we went through to throw you a welcome party?”

At the word ‘party’, Pinkie gasped. “Oh! Well why didn’t you say so?”

Willow grinned wider. Just as Pinkie took one bounce in the direction of the door, a cupboard between both groups burst open, and out tumbled a frantic Bumblebee.

“S-stop!” she yelped, throwing herself between Pinkie and Willow. “Pinkie, it’s a trap!”

Pinkie paused. “But… parties can’t be traps, not even surprise parties,” she said dubiously.

“They are if somepony lies about them!”

Pinkie’s eyes grew huge, as huge as dinner plates and she drew in a stiff breath through her nose. “Nopony lies about parties,” she breathed in a quiet, quiet voice.

By now, however, all attention had shifted away from Pinkie, and was now resting squarely on the one-hundred-percent undisguised, apron-wearing changeling standing right in the middle of the kitchen. 

It soon dawned on Bumblebee as well that she’d made a big mistake. Maybe sparing the apron had been a bad idea. She turned slowly, to find two glares and one leer aiming at her.

“Well, well, well,” Willow sneered. “What do we have here? A little lamb out of its pen? Well this simply won’t do at all. Now I’m afraid we’ll have to take both of you down for questioning. Maybe…?” he glanced meaningfully over his shoulder, positively grinning now as he cast a look in the direction of Mrs. Cake’s voice. “You never can be too sure, after all. We might have to interrogate the whole lot of you.”

Bumblebee turned to face the hulking stallions bearing down on her, and tried with all her might not to shrivel up on the floor. “N-no,” she stuttered.

Willow raised an eyebrow and slowly turned back around. “Excuse me?”

Bumblebee tried to look fierce, but she was so torn by terror that it didn’t quite shine through. “I-I’m not going back. I’m going to find Queen Applejack. I am! And I w-won’t let you do anything to her… m-my friends anymore! S-so you-you better leave right now. Or else!”

The three stallions stared down at her with looks of shock. The sheer audacity on display was both baffling and stunning.

“Or else?” Willow repeated, at a complete loss over the sheer gall it must take to utter such a thing to him of all ponies. “Are you threatening me, little lamb? Do you have any idea who I am, or did you miss the Sergeant title?”

Bumblebee was shaking, head to hoof. But her teeth her gnashed together, her ears flipped back, and a quivering hiss was issuing through her fangs. Her wings thrummed threateningly, and if she had been bigger, it might have been quite a threatening display. Her knees knocking together ruined it, however. “I-I am!” she bleated. “And I mean it!”

Willow just sneered more. “Oh I’m sure you think you do,” he chuckled condescendingly. “Well, after a day like today, I could use a little… stress relief.” He punctuated each of the last two words by popping his neck one way, then another. “First those changelings make a fool of me in the Everfree, and now you take me for a fool. I’d say it’s time I set the record straight.”

Pinkie Pie gasped, but when she went to rush to Bumblebee’s side, she found a changeling wing blocking her way.

“So tell me, little lamb,” Willow taunted as he slunk forward, his backup right on either side of him, “what exactly can you do to me, hmm?”

Bumblebee trembled, but continued to hold her ground. “I… I have a temper,” she warned.

All three stallions stared, then burst into laughter. “Ooooh, a temper!” Willow jeered. “Well that changes everything!” Even as he said it, he advanced another step.

“I-it should,” Bumblebee said back. “B-because it’s really bad, and I really hate losing it. Please, just go away. Applejack will be so mad if I hurt anypony, including you.”

Her warning only drew more scornful laughter from the gang in front of her. “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Willow chuckled darkly. Then, he motioned with a flick of one hoof at her. “Guards, get rid of… this,” he ordered. “Oh, and make sure the pink one is as… lightly jostled as possible, would you? Equestria’s going need its heroes before long, I daresay.”

Pinkie frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Willow gave her a distracted look. “Hmm? Oh, nothing, I assure you. I’d be more concerned with matters at hoof, yes?”

The two stallions sighed and stepped forward. Neither really wanted to have to beat down the little changeling; she was so slight and delicate-looking. Maybe they could just shove her to one side, maybe stuff her in a cupboard or knock her unconscious. Neither expected an actual fight from the tiny thing.

Bumblebee didn’t budge an inch, even as her knees started going wobbly beneath her. She looked pleadingly at one of the stallions moving towards her. Already he’d cast his gaze right past her and towards Pinkie Pie behind her.

She didn’t want to do this. She swore. She swore she’d never do it again. It was the only reason she’d been let out; because she swore to be good. But…

That makes us super good friends!

“P-Pinkie,” Bumblebee said quickly, voice shaking.

“Yeah?”

“No matter what, stay behind me, A-and don’t make a sound,” she said. “I-I won’t hurt you if I don’t see you.”

Pinkie gave her a confused look, as the lead thug closed the distance, and raised a hoof. “Out of the way, little bug,” he grunted, and swung. Pinkie cried out, but even she wasn’t fast enough to stop the massive hoof as it came swinging down, straight into Bumblebee’s face.

And that, as it turned out, was the worst possible thing they could have done.


~~***~~


Changelings, by their very nature, are not a violent species. What might be their most powerful warrior one day may become their most feeble in the span of a few hours. And so, martial prowess is not a trait that describes most changelings.

But there is one exception. An exception born once out of every fifty thousand eggs. A volatile, dangerous exception. Most suffering from this rare condition are put down, for the good of the hive’s continued security. Those allowed to live are kept isolated from the rest of the hive, to be unleashed only when absolutely necessary. At best, this means these select drones grow up awkward and antisocial. At worst, it turns them feral, bereft of any form of higher intelligence.

No one knows the cause. Was it once a talent honed by an ancient cadre of elite warriors? Was it some sort of quirk, a magical mutation coalescing in only a few individuals in a race of magically forged creatures?

Whatever the cause, these individuals are uniquely branded, outliers in the otherwise uniform rank and file of the changeling hives. To the changelings, they are referred to as Spada – weapons, for that was the only purpose they could possibly serve. But there is also another name that describes them just as accurately…


~~***~~


Mrs. Cake was in a huff. Being pushed around in her own shop, of all places, and by the Royal Guard! Her opinion of them was already stained after the mess they made of Sugarcube Corner that night six months ago, but now this? Well she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore!

Quickly she stormed up the stairs to the apartment over the bakery itself. There, she found her husband in the twins’ room, both hooves occupied as he rocked the two foals to sleep.

They were having none of it, however. Both Pound and Pumpkin Cake were crying at maximum volume, despite their father’s best efforts.

When Mrs. Cake walked in, Carrot Cake looked up, a helpless expression on his tired face. It seemed that their wailing had woken him up, as well. “Oh, pudding! I don’t know what’s gotten into them,” he said, sounding at his wit’s end. “I put the twins down for the night and everything went… better than usual, actually, when I heard the front door open, and Pumpkin started crying up a storm. And you know, when one starts…” he trailed off with a weak laugh.

As his chuckling faded, he noticed the deep scowl on his wife’s face. “Um… pudding… is everything alright?”

Mrs. Cake glowered from the doorway. “Oh, just dandy,” she huffed. “Only the Guard all but kicked down our door and stormed the kitchen without any paperwork giving them permission or anything!”

Carrot Cake’s eyes grew huge. “Say what?”

But his wife wasn’t listening. “Of all the nerve! I have half a mind to file a complaint at town hall! Oh I said it,” she added, seeing the scandalized look on Carrot’s face. “I have had it up to here with their antics and I won’t stand for it any longer!”

BOOM

All ponies in the room felt what could only be described as an earthquake, and the epicenter was right under their house. Every wall shook, knocking loose a number of pictures. The floor quaked, setting a startled portly baker down on her backside.

Downstairs, a pony shouted so loud the ponies upstairs heard it. And then, another heavy crash shook through the house. Lights flickered, books in the bookcase tumbled out one by one, and a dresser toppled.

Not only could Mrs. Cake hear things breaking – big things, things that should not be broken – but she could feel each crash and thud in the floor itself, like it was the bakery taking the brunt of the abuse. Struts in the walls groaned audibly, but somehow held firm.

The sounds of destruction were suddenly on the move. In a split second, heavy smashes and what could only be described as an explosion or two rocked Sugarcube Corner from one end of the lower floor to the other, passing directly under the nursery in a heartbeat.

Then, all was disturbingly quiet as the power flickered, then died. That got the twins shrieking.

“What in the good name of Celestia was that?” Mrs. Cake cried out, terrified.

Carrot Cake, who’d barely moved except to dodge the dresser, gave his wife a wide-eyed, confused look. “Didn’t… didn’t that come from the kitchen?”

It took Mrs. Cake all of two seconds to put things together in her head. “Pinkie!”

She stopped only to grab a rolling flashlight off the floor, and was out the door and down the flight of stairs faster than most ponies half her age could go. She hit the landing, slid a few inches, and scrambled down the hallway adjoining the front of the store to the back, where the kitchen and pantry were.

She made it all of five feet before slowing to a stunned halt.

In front of her, her beam of light revealed a scene of total ruin. Where the doorway to the kitchen was supposed to stand – along with a carriage-sized portion of the wall around it – there was now an empty, gaping hole punched straight through timber frame and dry wall. A water pipe hung mangled from the ceiling, dumping a steady stream straight into the rubble-strewn hallway.

But it didn’t stop there. The wall opposite the kitchen had been knocked out as well, and beyond, the pantry was all but destroyed. Bags of flower, sugar, cinnamon and yeast lay gutted, their contents exploded around the room and hanging in the air like a white and brown fog. And beyond that, yet another wall had been bulldozed, exposing the crisp night air and the streets of Ponyville to her searching flashlight.

It was as if a train had just blown, full speed, straight through her shop and back out. There was no trace of the rude guards, or…

“Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake shouted.

“H-here.”

Mrs. Cake froze, then spun around. Standing alone in the kitchen, staying as perfectly still as she could, was Pinkie Pie. She stood just a few feet from where the destruction began, and by the harrowed look on her face, she’d seen everything. Whatever had happened, it had drained all the color from Pinkie Pie’s face.

“Oh thank heavens,” Mrs. Cake breathed a sigh of relief. She clambered over the wreckage littering the floor and made for Pinkie's location. “Are you alright, dearie? What happened?”

Pinkie still didn’t move. Not even her eyes. Then, all at once, she broke down and let out a wail. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cake! I touched the Mix-a-tron 3000! I couldn’t help it! It was just so shiny! I Pinkie Promise I’ll never, ever, ever touch or not touch but still technically touch it ever again!”

Mrs. Cake blinked at her, then offered a small smile. “Oh dearie, it’s alright. We can buy as many appliances as we need. Just so long as you’re okay.” She rushed over and hugged Pinkie tightly. She’d be mad at her later, but for now, relief was the prevailing emotion.

Pinkie sat on the ground and wiped her eyes. All the while, she continued to stare at the corridor of destruction hammered through the bakery and out into the dark night outside.

“What happened, Pinkie?” Mrs. Cake questioned, looking over her shoulder and out the hole in the side of Sugarcube Corner. “Did the Guard do this?”

Pinkie didn’t say anything at first, then shook her head. “No. Well, sorta. S-she warned them.”

Mrs. Cake gave her a confused look. “Who? What happened?”

Pinkie started looking anxious, and what little color had returned quickly drained away again. “Bumblebee has a scaaaaaaaaaaary temper,” she squeaked.


~~***~~


It was in a pitch black, dingy alley that Sergeant Willow finally doubled over, panting heavily. One of his cronies staggered behind him and leaned against an alley wall, just as out of breath. The three other subordinates originally accompanying him were nowhere to be found.

“What in the sweet name of Celestia is that thing?” Willow gasped out between breaths. His heart continued to pound at a million miles an hour, and though he was covered in sweat, he was shivering.

“I dunno,” the big stallion behind him grunted, “but I think it’s gone.”

A loud crash out on the street made them both stiffen. Willow hissed, and both dove for cover behind piles of uncollected trash bags and a dumpster. Both of them cowered in the darkness, too afraid to move.

From the other side of their hiding place, sounds reached them.

Something snuffled at the ground, taking big, long sniffs before snorting loudly. A heavy hoof impacted the dirt road, producing an audible thump. A low, menacing snarl reverberated through the air, issuing from large, powerful lungs.

Another heavy step, and suddenly a faint, pale blue light swept across the alley. Willow grew as still as a statue and curled himself up into as small a shape as he possibly could.

Sniff… sniff…

Willow could feel his fur crawling, like there were a hundred ants suddenly scurrying all across his body. He could taste ozone and feel an ominous tingle on his scalp. The sensation came in waves, like they were rolling off whatever was looming at the mouth of the alleyway.

Another heavy step. The creature placed a hoof inside the alley, snarling louder now. And then, just as Willow was considering how far he’d make it if he bolted, he heard a faint thump on the buildings on either side of him.

The creature snorted, its hooves scraping the dirt. But again, Willow heard the same small sound from very high up on the walls.

It was then that he realized what was happening. The creature couldn’t fit down the alley. On the one hoof, he was saved! On the other… how big did that make the monster chasing him?

The feeling of static electricity worsened quite suddenly. A loud, frustrated snarl rent the air as shoulders grinded against unyielding brick and mortar. Then, with a huff… it was gone.

The pale blue light vanished. The intense sensation of static abated. The creature moved so abruptly, and so swiftly, that if Willow had blinked, he’d have missed it. Out on the road, he could hear the creature’s hooves pounding the dirt as it lumbered away. Another crash made him flinch, and out on the street, it caused a few lights to flick on in bedrooms.

Willow swallowed, then carefully straightened up. He first peered over the dumpster he was hiding behind, verified that the coast was clear, then edged up to the corner of the alley. He leaned only one eye around, and quickly peered down the street. The only thing that marked the creature’s passage was the line of toppled lamp posts, all now lying on their sides in the street, lights out.

And in the distance, vanishing through a row of trees on the edge of town, he witnessed an immense shape, blacker than the moonlit night. Green light danced across its hind legs, burning through joints and outlining each hole in each muscular leg.

As the foliage fell around it, Willow witnessed a bolt of emerald lightning leap from the creature’s hide, strike a tree, and bring the whole thing down in its wake. The cacophony of the tree’s crashing made Willow wince, especially when doors up and down the street started to swing open.

Sleepy-eyed mares and stallions stepped out into the night. Most rubbed their eyes or squinted through heavy lids, peering around for the culprits of all the ruckus at this late hour. Some were alert enough to grab flashlights and cast glow spells as they stepped out on the street and beheld the perplexing sight of the toppled lamps.

“What’s going on?” A lemon-colored mare inquired, rubbing her eyes and ruffling her wings.

A brown stallion paused halfway out his door, his horn illuminating the closest downed pole. “Whoa… What happened here?”

“All of them…? Who could have done this…?”

Murmuring broke out up and down the street and grew in confusion the more time passed. And just when Willow was sensing it was about time to high-tail it out of there, a beam of light swept onto him. Like a deer he froze instinctively in place as several ponies hesitated, then approached. All of them had questions on their faces.

“You’re with the guard, right?” one asked.

“Did you see what happened?” another inquired, sounding anxious.

It was nothing compared to how Willow felt. “Now, now,” Willow said, trying to stifle his nervousness. “Everything is under control. There is no need to –”

On the edge of town, a tall tree came crashing down. The air was filled with the sounds of snapping limbs and the thunderous impact of the tree’s trunk hitting the ground – and a deafening, carrying bellow that echoed across the countryside.

Everypony stared in the direction of the terrifying roar, eyes widening. Then, all together, they all turned towards the Guard sergeant and his cohort, seeking answers. Instead, they found empty space, and a faint dust trail leading around the nearest corner and conveniently out of sight.


~~***~~


“Okay… okay, we can still salvage this…”

Willow’s only remaining companion gave him an incredulous look. “Are you crazy? Did you see the size of that thing? We are in way over our heads with this one!”

Willow hissed at him. “Just shut up and let me think, you idiot! Whatever that thing was, it’s not important. Let it run amok out in the Everfree for all I care! No, what is important right now is getting that cursed pink pony under wraps before the boss finds out about this mess.”

“And then what?” Pinkie asked.

Willow sneered. “Then we just wait it out until we get the signal, then – GAH!”

Willow jumped five feet in the area, springing away from the impossibility bouncing along at his side. He leapt so far that he struck his companion, and both went tumbling end over end several times before coming to a stop in a heap.

Groaning, Willow shook his head in an effort to clear the little popping lights dancing in front of his eyes. “Ugh… this night could not possibly get any worse,” he groaned, straightened up, and turned muzzle-to-muzzle with a fully loaded, fully armed howitzer of the celebratory variety.

On the other end, Pinkie gave Willow a withering look. “Nopony. Lies. About parties.” She intoned.

And in the next moment, Willow was proven woefully wrong: Things could most definitely get much worse.


~~***~~


Rage. Frustration. Helplessness. Fear.

These and their countless facets swirled inside Bumblebee, burning hot and howling like a gale, drowning out all else. Lost in the maelstrom consuming her mind, there was only a single thought – a single prerogative – that she clung to.

She could not hurt anypony.

Amid the tumult of bottled up emotions rampaging through her with utter impunity, that one driving goal was like a life preserver in a raging storm. It was the only shard of herself she could make sense of.

She felt turned inside out, upside down, backwards… Everything she kept on the inside, flung out into the world for all to see. So desperately vulnerable, so open… All she could do was lash out, unable to resist the fainted impulse.

But that idea, that single point of herself, she clung to it. She could not hurt anypony. She absolutely could not. The very thought of it filled her with crushing dread. She drove herself deeper into the forest, away from the dangerous place filled with lights and threats.

That made sense to her primitive instincts, the only thing that held sway anymore. The city was a bad, dangerous place filled with things that would try to hurt her.

She had to go somewhere safe. Somewhere safe…

In the back of her mind, she knew where she was going, but no voice cautioned her. So through the forest she went, trampling underbrush and blowing apart any obstacle too big to push through.

Another lance of magic vented off of her, struck a tree, and sent it toppling out of her way. And as its lowest branches vacated her path, she saw her destination.

Across a field of gently swaying grass, there was a house. As far as Ponyville houses went, it was dim-a-dozen; thatched roof, tall and rustic. Nopony would have picked it out as something special from either of its close neighbors.

But Bumblebee knew it was special. It was somewhere safe. She broke cover and began to cross the field, her eyes fixed on her destination. Halfway across, some part of her brain registered the fact that the lights were still shining in the windows. And as she drew closer, she noticed a shape in one of the upstairs windows move. Then, it vanished.

When the back door creaked open, Bumblebee paused. In the doorway, a pony looked out across the field towards her. In the light of the moon, nopony could have missed her hulking form, and the pony most certainly didn’t.

Bumblebee felt her lip curling, a warning snarl issuing from her throat. But instead of retreating, the door pushed open wider, and the pony stepped out into the cool night.

It was a mare, a pegasus so familiar even Bumblebee’s primitive mind could recognize her from afar. Slowly, her snarl faded. In the pale moonlight, her normally blonde mane was bleached silver. Her coat was dull gray, its usual coloration faded as well. She watched the behemoth in front of her carefully, pausing after a few strides. “…Bumblebee?” she asked tentatively. “Is… is that you?”

Bumblebee stared down at the mare. She felt turned inside out, upside down, backwards… Everything she kept bottled up, everything she kept hidden from everypony else, on display to be judged and mocked. Everything she was ashamed of, everything she was afraid of, everything she wanted absolutely nopony to know about…

The mare slowly drew closer. Bumblebee could sense her fear, but she didn’t back away.

“Bumblebee?” she spoke again. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

She was so close now that Bumblebee could see her mane flutter with the wind issuing from her nostrils. Each snort ruffled her mane, yet she continued drawing closer.

“It’s okay,” she said again, raised a hoof, and gently touched Bumblebee’s chest.

A shudder ran through her body. The tumult inside Bumblebee’s mind quavered, then began to ebb. Her bones started to groan as they shrank. Her body, inflated by unleashed magic and feeling, deflated, muscle by muscle. Slowly, the world grew around her, until the mare appeared as big as the world.

Yet she still felt inside out.

Bumblebee took a deep, shuddering breath – the first in what felt like years. She could think again, her mind empty of howling, bestial rage.

But before she could say a single thing, her body gave out on her. She collapsed onto the grass, limp as a noodle.

When next she could make sense of her surroundings, she found herself lying flat on her side on the cold, hard earth amid tall stalks of silvery grass. She had no strength left, not even enough to pick her head up. Yet… her head was up.

“Bee? Bee! Talk to me!” called out a voice. That voice was connected to a pair of hooves holding her head. It was connected to a pair of eyes staring down at her with real fear now.

Bumblebee had to force her lips to part, and even when she did manage to speak, it was in a pitifully small voice. “C…C…loudy…?” she breathed. “Is…that…?”

The mare smiled down at her in relief. “It’s me, Bee,” she promised.

Bumblebee tried to lift her head, but the muscles simply wouldn’t respond. “Did… did I hurt…?”

“Nopony,” was the vehement answer she got back. “You didn’t hurt anypony. You did really, really good.”

Bumblebee closed her eyes. It took all the effort she could muster, but she managed to roll over slightly and bury her face against the fuzzy chest of the one holding her. It was safe there, safe from the cold, dark night.

“I was so scared,” she mumbled. “I didn’t want to… But they were going to… take…”

Bumblebee groaned, and for a dangerous moment, her eyesight dimmed. “Cloudy… I’m scared…”

The hooves tightened around her. “Not while I’m around, Bee. Come on; I’m going to get you someplace safe. Can you walk?”

Bumblebee whined, her eyes starting to glisten. “I… I can’t feel my legs,” she said. “I used up… used up everything I had.”

“Well then, I’m just going to have to carry you.”

Bumblebee felt herself get hefted up off the ground by a pair of strong hooves. She was cradled against a fuzzy chest.

“Don’t you worry, Bee. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”


~~***~~


Cloudkicker bucked open the door to her bedroom and swiftly made her way inside. In her hooves, Bumblebee lolled like a lifeless ragdoll. Looking at her, Cloudkicker wasn’t sure what was scarier; this Bumblebee or the behemoth she’d been just minutes before.

“You still with me, Bee?” she asked, trying to keep her worry down.

“Uh-huh,” was the weak response she got. “I just… I need some rest and… and I’ll right as rain in no time.”

Cloudkicker almost chuckled at the forced levity in Bumblebee’s voice. the little drone could tell she was worried – she always could.

Quickly crossing the room, Cloudkicker gingerly lowered the frail changeling down onto the bed as slowly as possible. She considered it a good sign that Bumblebee didn’t wince or make any sort of noise as she did so.

She finished pulling down the comforter… then paused. 

Bumblebee looked up at her. “What?”

Cloudkicker chuckled, sounding a little embarrassed. “Well, uh… just thinking. Didn’t think this was how I’d get you in here.”

To her amusement, Bumblebee’s eyes grew huge, and she turned bright red. “S-sorry…”

“It’s fine, worrywart,” Cloudkicker dismissed. “Just pretend I didn't say anything. All I want you to do is focus on getting better, okay? You just leave everything else to me.”

Cloudkicker finished draping the blanket over Bumblebee and smiled down at her. “I’m gonna go lock some doors,” Cloudkicker told her. “Be right back.”

But right as she turned away, a holey hoof snagged hers.

With about a million different romantic clichés running through Cloudkicker’s tentatively hopeful mind, she turned back around. But the look Bumblebee was giving her was not a potentially inviting one.

Bumblebee look up at her, dread on her face. She hung onto Cloudkicker’s hoof with the desperation of a dying pony, tighter than the pegasus thought she could squeeze anything.

“Cloudy… P-please… you have to find Applejack,” she said, her voice still weak.

Cloudkicker raised any eyebrow. “Uh… why? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Bumblebee whined. “But… b-but something is really, really wrong with her. I think something terrible has happened.”

Cloudkicker blinked, then scoffed. “Pfft, to AJ? Not if the boss has anything to say about it.”

But Bumblebee remained unconvinced. “Please, Cloudy, please. You have to find her for me. B-before…”

“Before what?” Cloudkicker asked, her brows pulling together.

Bumblebee paled. “B-before she does something really, really awful…”


~~***~~


“Oi, wake up.”

The guard pony snorted as a hoof struck him upside the head, jolting him back to wakefulness. He snapped his head around blearily, before his eyes settled upon the irritated fellow seated next to him.

Both of them were sitting in a watchtower that stood alone amongst an endless expanse of woodlands. It rose taller than the nearby trees, affording them a peerless view over the forest that surrounded them in all directions. Beneath them, a wide road meandered through the brush before disappearing several hundred yards in front of them. The road was a main thoroughfare for travelers and goods going in and out of the region, and the watchtower was there to make sure nothing sinister took place along this stretch of the highway.

It was rare, however, for the post to be manned so late into the night. The two watch ponies, well into their second shift by now, were not used to the late hours, and even with a steady supply of coffee, it was starting to take its toll.

“Oh let me sleep,” the older of the two watchers complained and turned away, intent on finding a more comfortable position again. “Ain’t anything going on, anyway. It’s the dead of night. Only fools up this late are us two.”

The younger fellow – a greenhorn only a week into his job – frowned at him. “You really want to get on Steel Shod’s bad side?”

“Ah, who cares about him,” his companion snapped. “Everypony knows he’s on his way out the door. All he has us doing out here is chasing more ghosts, as usual.”

“And if something does happen?” the greenhorn asked pointedly. 

“Then I’ll eat my horseshoe!”

The greenhorn rolled his eyes, turned away, and watched as a distant tree disappeared from sight. He frowned and narrowed his eyes in that direction. Had he just been seeing things?

A second later, it happened again; a tree shuddered, then dropped away. Only this time, he heard a distant thump and the unmistakable sound of cracking branches.

“Oi, Trotter.”

The old stallion grumbled loudly. “Give it a rest, already!”

“Trotter,” he persisted. “Wake up.”

The sleepy fellow cracked open one irritated eye, then straightened up. “What is it now?” he growled.

The private didn’t need to say anything when the night air was split by the sound of crashing timber. The older stallion frowned, then turned around. “What they hay was that?” he asked, as another tree came down, this one so close they could see it quiver just before toppling over.

Pigeons took flight, cooing in terror as their roost reverberated with an unseen impact, and then before the eyes of two stunned guards, the entire tree was tossed a dozen yards to the left, bringing down still more of the forest.

The two stared, pale-faced, at where the demolished tree had landed. Then, slowly, they turned back to look ahead, as a long leg emerged from the underbrush.

Applejack stepped out onto the road with slow yet purposeful strides. Her eyes stayed pinned in a single direction – the one she was walking in. Her mane was a mess of tangled locks filled with branches and leaves. Her chitinous hide was ashy grey and smeared with dirt and mud.

As she walked, a stray bolt of green lightning arced off of her horn, hit a bush, and vaporized it instantaneously. When that happened, Applejack winced, and slowed to a halt. Her lips curled and a long, protracted hiss issued through her fangs as he rubbed one temple.

The two watch ponies stared down at her from their vantage point. The youngest of the two lifted his ears as a quiet sound reached him. Was it just his imagination, or was she… muttering to herself?

“Just… to… ink…”

The two stallions looked at each other. “What do we do?” the younger of the two mouthed soundlessly to the other. The older one stared back at him with wide, terrified eyes. Then, an idea occurred to him.

“Run,” he mouthed back.

The greenhorn stared uncomprehendingly back as the older veteran stood up, raised his horn into the air, and with a pulse of magic, fired a brilliant red spell high into the sky.

The fireball sailed hundreds of feet into the air, reach the apex of its arc, and exploded with a deafening bang. It left countless red sparks dancing high in the air that burned long after the initial spell had faded, bathing the forest in a dim, bloody light.

The greenhorn stared in awe at the flare, then quickly remembered the situation. He looked down, and noticed the pair of hungry eyes turned their way.

“Run you fool!” the veteran shouted, lit his horn, and physically tossed the greenhorn from the watchtower. He flailed, yelping as he fell, only to land on all fours.

In a flash, the older of the two bounded down, catching himself with a pulse of counter-thrusting magic. He turned to face the motionless monster still watching them from afar.

“Go on, get out of here! I’ll hold her off as long as I can! Get word back to Captain Steel Shod! Well what are you waiting for, Hearth’s Warming?!”

The greenhorn jolted. “Y-yes sir!” he cried, turned tail, and bolted as fast as his legs could carry him.

Trotter watched him go for a moment, just to make sure he didn’t do something unimaginably stupid like stay behind. Then, he turned back towards the towering changeling in front of him.

He wasn’t under any delusion; anything that could toss trees around like little twigs was far beyond his abilities. But if he could get her to hesitate for even a little bit, he’d gladly pay the ultimate price.

“Well come on, then,” he challenged. “You want a piece of me? You aint gonna get it over there, little missy. Come on!”

Applejack stared him down, her face devoid of expression. Then, her eye twitched.

“Get…”

Her head dropped, her shoulders tightening. As her head lowered, her horn started to buzz and crackle angrily.

“Get…!”

Sparks danced up and down her legs. Green light pulsed just beneath the surface, like it was running through her veins. And with each pulse, the ground around her started to vibrate.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Applejack roared. The light in her horn condensed, shot down the length of it, through her body, and straight into the ground in the blink of an eye.

All around her, pebbles on the roadway suddenly went careening in every direction away from her. Grass flattened as if pinned down in the most ferocious gale imaginable. Trees bent away from her, roots ripping up out of the earth as they were forced in the opposite direction.

Trotter felt, for just a moment, a wall of solid force crash into him, and suddenly he was flying. The last thing he saw before striking a tree was the sight of his watchtower get blown away, like twigs being swatted by a giant’s hand. In the next instant, his head met solid wood, and he remembered no more.


~~***~~


Steel Shod was halfway down the road from the Guard post when he saw it. He paused, along with the rest of his contingent of troops. Mutters ran up and down the ranks as eyes turned towards the distant sky.

“Is that…?”

“It’s gotta be…”

Steel Shod glared over his shoulder. “Enough,” he snapped. “Everypony, forward march. We’ve got a city to save.”

The small army behind him snapped to attention, bellowed their compliance, then fell into step behind him. Amid their ranks, a large, covered wagon trundled down the sloping trail, axles squeaking and groaning under the weight it bore.

As they marched, Steel Shod turned towards the distant red lights still twinkling in the heavens.


~~***~~


Far to the north, along a moonlit stretch of tracks, a train barreled out of the frozen lands beyond. It steamed full bore, as fast as mechanically and safely feasible. As the Canterlot train station came and went, one pony pressed her face up to the window, a hoof placed firmly against her chest.

“Hang in there, AJ,” Rainbow said to herself. “I’m coming for you.”
	
> Chapter 23: Heartache
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The train rattled underneath Cadance’s hooves as she trotted from car to car. She made her way towards the front of the train, but she wasn’t in a rush. Not yet, anyway. As anxious as she was, she knew hurrying would do her little good, and would leave her with nothing to do until they arrived at their destination. So, she forced herself to keep a measured pace in order to waste as much time as possible.

Every so often, she would enter a car and immediately be greeted by countless Imperial Guards. They would usually jump to their hooves and throw her a salute, which she would return, feeling embarrassed.

In one car, she stumbled upon what could only be described as a war council halfway through a session. Shining Armor, surrounded by his chosen lieutenants, stood around a table from the dining car. All of them were pouring over maps, discussing strategy and contingency with the grim-faced stoniness of soldiers on the frontlines of a horrific war. Never mind that hardly any of them had ever seen any real action.

It had been Shining Armor who insisted that they take as many soldiers as could fit into the train. Doubtlessly his mind was still fixated on the fate of Twilight Sparkle, or perhaps he was not leaving anything to chance. A show of force, however, was not a strategy Cadance would rather employ if she could avoid it. She knew, perhaps better than anypony, that a direct confrontation with Applejack in her current state of mind would spell nothing short of disaster. But she let the strategists work through their agendas. 

She quietly tapped Shining Armor on the shoulder as she passed, gave him a peck on the cheek and slipped him a small note before moving on. He gave her a questioning look, then set the note to one side for later. 

Eventually Cadance left the passenger cars behind, and entered several private sleeper cars. Nearly all of them were unoccupied, the windows to each room dark and lifeless. But halfway down the first car, Cadance noticed a light on. She approached, politely knocked, and slid the door open a little.

Inside, two ponies looked back at her.

Rarity sat close to the window on a bench. In her hooves, she held a sketchbook while she magicked a quill across it. The quill danced swiftly this way and that, idly giving shape to the designs mulling about in the fashionista’s brain. It was a distraction, little more, as the sketches were all very rough, and she never seemed to spend very long on any of them. Though, in the lamp light, Cadance couldn’t help but notice a telltale abundance of flannel.

Across from her, Fluttershy sat on a foldout bed, not really doing much of anything. She gazed out the window, watching the moonlit world whizz by in dark blue, black and silver blurs.

The reason why she sat so still quickly became apparent to Cadance when she noticed the shock of multicolored hair sticking out under one of her wings.

Rainbow was in a dead sleep, limbs sprawled every which way. She was turned slightly into Fluttershy’s side, her face tucked out of sight under a canary yellow wing.

When Cadance entered, Fluttershy looked around, and held up a hoof to her lips. “Sssh,” she whispered quietly. “She just fell asleep.”

Cadance nodded, then silently tugged the door shut behind her before taking a seat next to Rarity. “How is she?” Cadance asked.

Rarity huffed under her breath. “She’s flown from one end of Equestria to the other in under a day, all to help Applejack. Honestly, it’s a miracle she didn’t pass out sooner.”

From under Fluttershy’s wing, Rainbow let out a loud snore and mumbled in her sleep.

Rarity then turned a meaningful eye towards Cadance. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but since you’re here, does that mean there’s been a development?”

At that, Cadance smiled and nodded. “Actually, yes. I received a letter from Princess Celestia. Twilight is safe, and the ones that foalnapped her are behind bars. They will be meeting us in Ponyville, once we arrive.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Fluttershy sighed happily, smiling with relief. “I don’t know what we would do if anything happened to her.”

Rarity noticed something else Cadance had said, however. “They?” she echoed, crooking an eyebrow. “And how exactly did you receive a letter on a moving train?”

Cadance nodded, her smile diminishing. “Celestia didn’t go into details, but she made it clear that she would not be letting Twilight travel without her supervision for some time. As for the letter… Spike isn’t the only one with a direct line to the princess. It tends to be only one way, however. I don’t have half the range Celestia does when it comes to transposition spells.”

“The princess will be waiting for us in Ponyville?” Fluttershy gasped, her eyes growing huge with surprise.

“Well I can hardly blame her,” Rarity sighed quietly, putting down her sketch pad. “Nobles, of all ponies… Coming from Rainbow, it’d sounded like she was jumping to conclusions yet again. I never would have thought in a million years any of them would stoop so low.” Her expression unexpectly brightened. “At least now we can put all of that behind us.”

“I’m just glad Twilight’s okay,” Fluttershy put in. “Shining Armor has been so upset. He must be really relieved.”

Cadance chuckled under her breath. “Knowing him, he’ll still be worried until he sees her for himself, no matter what we say.”

For a time, the room was quiet. Cadance listened to the clack of the train tracks beneath them while Rarity tucked her sketching materials away, then curled up on the bench as well. It was hardly the kind of accommodations she was used to, but seeing as the bed was already occupied, she didn’t feel the need to be vocal about it.

Fluttershy put her own head down after a while, and soon her eyes were drifting closed, little by little.

Cadance, however, didn’t feel much like sleeping. There was too much whirling around in her head for her to consider it. After so many years, she finally had the answers to the questions she’d been chasing. And yet… she still felt dissatisfied.

Such a simple thing… such a simple solution. Why had Carnation made it so remarkably difficult to find? As a test? Or perhaps she’d put too much faith in Hyacinth still being around to aid Applejack.

Something about these circumstances bothered her… but she could set it all aside. At that moment, they were hurtling through the countryside towards Applejack. Soon, they’d have her back to normal, and without those pesky conspirators to get in the way. Twilight was safe, the plot against Equestria was foiled. There’d be plenty of time to pick up the pieces later.

Cadance sat there, lost in her own thoughts, when she noticed Rainbow jolt slightly. She looked up, not sure at first if she’d actually seen anything, when she noticed Rainbow shuddering in her sleep.

“Duh…Don’t…”

Cadance perked up one ear. In the quiet of the train car, she thought she could just make out Rainbow’s voice, muffled though it was.

“Don’t… go…” she whimpered, and curled up. “Don’t…”

All at once, Rainbow jumped, gasped, and sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. “Apple…!” Her voice died in her throat, leaving her sitting on the bed, looking like she’d just been electrocuted.

Her sudden leap to wakefulness roused Fluttershy, who blinked blearily at being almost thrown over onto her back. Rarity as well raised her head, tensing before catching sight of Rainbow.

Rainbow looked around the room, noticing everyone there. “Where’s… Are we there yet?” she panted.

“No, darling,” Rarity yawned. “You were just having a nightmare. Everything’s fine.”

“R-right,” Rainbow mumbled, looking at her hooves. “Just… just a nightmare. Applejack would never…”

“Would never what?” Fluttershy asked.

Rainbow flinched, then quickly got up. “U-um, gotta use the little filly’s room,” she said, then quickly made her escape.

Everypony glanced at one another as the turbulence in the room settled. Rarity and Fluttershy exchanged unknowing shrugs and helpless looks, then Rarity eased the door shut with a flick of her horn. Cadance glanced between them. “Shouldn’t somepony go after her? She looked pretty shaken up.”

Rarity sighed. “Darling, Rainbow doesn’t like talking about her feelings. Trying to get her to will only make her lash out.”

“If something is really bothering her, she knows we’ll listen,” Fluttershy added. “We just have to wait for Rainbow to calm down, that’s all.”

Cadance frowned slightly, uncertain. She then cast her gaze towards the door, a troubled feeling gnawing at her insides.


~~***~~


Rainbow loitered between cars, alone with her thoughts. The wind howled as the train roared down the tracks. The steam engine chugged at a frightful pitch just a few train cars down. The smell of coal smoke filled the air.

It was the cool night air that Rainbow relished the most, though. It helped to wake her up fully and banish the last shreds of her dream. Even now she could barely recall it. Only the twisted feeling in her gut remained.

A knock caught her attention. She looked up reflexively towards the door behind her, and found a pink pony princess smiling carefully back at her. Rainbow blinked at her, then turned away.

Cadance carefully slid the door open and slipped through. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rainbow said immediately.

“I know,” Cadance said back. “I only wanted to tell you that Twilight is safe now. They got the pony pulling the strings.”

Rainbow spun around. “Really?” she said, eyes big with hope. When Cadance nodded, she let out a breath and broke into a grin. “Ha! I knew she’d be okay. Twilight’s always got a plan up her sleeve.”

Rainbow turned and looked out over the countryside. The steep valleys and towering mountains had given way to gently rolling foothills dotted with forested groves. Fields of grass raced out in every direction, broken up here and there by the occasional stream that flashed in the moonlight as they passed. The landscape was starting to take on a familiar look.

“Yeah… she always knows what to do.”

“Is something the matter?” Cadance asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rainbow puffed up reflexively. “Hey, I know exactly what I’m doing! AJ’s as good as saved with me around. It’s… just the particulars that are kind of hazy. Nothing major. B-But I got this! No sweat!”

Cadance pursed her lips, but said nothing.

It took her a moment, but eventually Rainbow deflated again. “Oh who am I kidding. I have no idea what to do next. All I know is there’s a rock inside me that somehow I have to get inside Applejack or… or something. Erg… why did those stupid ghosts have to be so vague?! Why are they always vague? And if I screw this up…”

She sighed, and set her head down on the railing. “I don’t know how to put it. It just feels like, if there’s no Applejack, then… there’s no me. Does…” she chanced a glance over her shoulder at Cadance, “…Does that make sense?”

Cadance smiled. “Of course it does. I feel the same way about Shining Armor, you know. Why else do you think I’ve married him, hmm?”

Rainbow gave her a confused look. “Uh… because you love him? Isn’t that what the whole marriage thing is about?”

Cadance’s smile grew. “That’s right.” She suddenly leaned in close and raised her eyebrow at Rainbow. “So what does that say about you, hmm?”

Rainbow gave her a perplexed look, not quite following – and a little too afraid to follow. “Uh… uh…”

Cadance suddenly broke out into a fit of giggles. “Geez, Rainbow, I’m only teasing you. Unless I’m hitting a little too close to home.”

“No!” Rainbow said quickly. “I-I mean, of course not!”

“Are you sure?” Cadance teased. The sparkle in her eyes drew a defensive glower from Rainbow, who did not like whatever they were insinuating.  She would just pretend that the heat burning on her face was from indignant rage. There was nothing else it could be. 

“Totally positive.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Because you’re being super weird!”

Cadance chuckled, then mercifully backed off. Rainbow let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and turned away to grumble to herself in peace.

…

“…But…”

Rainbow could practically feel Cadance’s judgmental gaze fall on the back of her head, which she absolutely refused to meet. The idea of what kind of look she might be getting was making her immensely uncomfortable.

“…Let’s… let’s say… hypothetically… JUST hypothetically, okay?”

“Okay,” Cadance said, and Rainbow could hear the restrained mirth in her voice.

“Ugh… let’s just say maybe, theoretically, just in order to explore every single possibility no matter how infinitesimally small they are—”

“You’re rambling, Rainbow,” Cadance said humorously.

“Ergh… You know what, never mind,” Rainbow snapped, and turned to leave. The burning on her face was reaching an all new intensity that she couldn’t bear anymore.

A gentle hoof caught her shoulder, bringing her to a stop. “I’m sorry,” Cadance said repentantly. Still Rainbow refused to look at her, yet Cadance continued undaunted. “You can talk to me. It’s just us out here, you know.”

Rainbow didn’t say anything. She stayed facing the other way, aimed in the direction of the door and ultimately safety from this uncomfortable conversation. All that was restraining her was a light hoof that didn’t hold onto her very tightly. She could just walk away and leave all of this stupid turmoil where it should be; locked up and out of sight.

And on any other day, with any other problem hanging over her head, Rainbow could have done just that. But that night, her hooves felt too heavy to move.

“… Cadance?”

“Yes?” she responded.

“How do you… do it?” Rainbow asked hesitantly.

“Do what?”

Rainbow mumbled to herself and shifted from one hoof to the next, looking uncomfortable. She almost reconsidered even saying anything, but then thought better of it. 

“Shining Armor. Do you… do you ever worry about him?”

“Of course.”

“Like,” Rainbow went on, words flying out of her mouth now. “Like, so much that the idea of losing him is just—it’s unthinkable. Like if he stopped being there, you would, too?”

Rainbow started to turned to face Cadance—to look her in the eye while she answered. But at the last second, she lost heart and averted her gaze again. All she caught was a glimpse of Cadance’s face, and that was almost too much for her.

“Have… have you ever felt like… like there’s no you if there’s no him? Has the thought of failing him scared you so much you can barely breathe?”

Rainbow sighed, then looked up. She still refused to catch even a glimpse of the pony next to her, no matter what. “Have you ever missed her so much it felt like you’d go crazy? Like you were in some sort of dream, or weird alternate reality just waiting for the real world to restart again? And the only way for everything to go back to normal was for her to be there with you?”

The words finally dried up. For some reason, Rainbow felt like a wrung out dish rag. She didn’t like it.

Before she could let Cadance answer, Rainbow trudged over to the guard rail overlooking the countryside racing by. She still refused to look Cadance in the eye, especially after the uncool stuff she’d just said. Rainbow glanced down at her hooves while she toyed with them on the guard rail. Below, the tracks rushed by in a disorienting blur. The rattle of the tracks almost drowned her out completely, and some part of her wished she couldn’t be heard, anyway.

“She was the first pony I ever could call my friend here in Ponyville. Sure Fluttershy came later, and Pinkie Pie was… well, Pinkie Pie. But Applejack was always the one who made me want to stay in Ponyville. Heh… when we were fillies, we competed in everything, no matter how big or small. It always made me mad that, no matter what I did, some earth pony could always match me, pound for pound. I hated her guts so much back then, and the only thing I cared about was beating her. Now? Now just thinking that we’ll never get the chance to race again is… it’s really scary.  If she’s not… if she just stopped being there… I don’t know what I’d do. And if she disappears because I messed up…”

Rainbow shivered. “So, bottom line: I can’t fail her. No way. But… what if I do?”

For a long time, Cadance was quiet. Rainbow was fully braced for some kind of teasing remark, or some other mushy jab at how totally uncool she was being. So it came as something of a surprise when Cadance spoke in a normal, level tone.

“Rainbow, I wish there was some magical thing I could say to reassure you. But I know when you  care about somepony as much as you do Applejack, you will always worry about them. I do every day Shining Armor is at work. Celestia do I worry…”

Rainbow jumped when she felt a wing gently wrap around her and give her a hug. “But I promise I will give you as many opportunities to save Applejack as I possibly can. Though, I get the feeling you will only need one.”

Rainbow still didn’t turn around. She kept herself determinedly turned the other way in order to save face. Eventually the wing hugging her moved away. She heard the clatter of hooves on the metal floor, and the rasp of the door sliding open.

“You mean the world to her, too, Rainbow,” Cadance said from the doorway. “The Corastone inside you is the proof. Remember that.”

With that, she closed the door behind her, leaving a quiet Rainbow alone with her thoughts once again. She stood motionless by the rails, gazing unseeingly out across the countryside.

After a while, her hoof came up to tough her chest. 

Come… come save me… ya hear…?

Rainbow clutched harder at the fur over her heart, just as the train engine let loose a deafening whistle. Rainbow barely felt the lurch or heard the screech of laboring brakes. She looked out over rapidly approaching thatched roofs.

Her wings were open. Her pulse started to rise. It was now or never.

And for her, she’d never say never.


~~***~~


It was in a deserted station that the train finally ground to a halt. There wasn’t so much as a single pony manning the ticket booths. By all accounts, the station had been shut down for the night. Not even the lights were on along the platform.

Nevertheless, the station suddenly found itself properly crowded as a regiment of the Crystal Empire’s finest burst out of the doors. Even as the train continued to boil over with steam, the guards quickly set up a perimeter around the station with the eagerness only greenhorns could muster, swinging spears at shadows that looked at them the wrong way.

Cadance tried not to chuckle at their enthusiasm as they unloaded supplies by the crate-load. One would think they were expecting a full blown war on the horizon.

But as they walked off the train, Shining Armor had a darker perspective. “There should be guards posted here,” he remarked. “What’s Steel Shod doing leaving the main port of entry in and out of Ponyville unguarded? It’s not like him.”

“It’s not just the station,” came a voice overhead. Everypony turned around as Rainbow set herself down on the platform. 

Cadance caught her eye, an unspoken question on her face. Rainbow just flashed half a grin at her, then turned back to face Shining Armor. That small gesture was all Cadance needed.

“Sorry,” she added, seeing the looks she was getting, “It was taking forever for the train to stop, so I did a flyby of the area. Steel Shod usually has patrols going through the city this time of night, but I haven’t seen anypony for several blocks.”

“Then it’s worse than I thought,” Shining Armor noted with a scowl. “Steel Shod would never let his men slack off, not unless something is forcing his hoof.”

“Like what?” Cadance inquired.

Shining Armor’s expression grew darker. “Like if he mobilized the Ponyville division. And I’ll give you one guess why he’d do that.”

“Applejack,” Rainbow said quietly.

“That would be my guess,” Shining Armor said with a solemn nod. “She must be heading back to Ponyville, and Steel Shod caught wind of it.”

Rainbow felt her gut lurch uncomfortably. “If even a little bit of AJ is still in there, she’s heading for Sweet Apple Acres, no doubt about it. But if Steel Shod gets in her way…”

“I know,” Shining Armor said grimly. “But that’s what the regiment is for. Hopefully a show of force will get Steel Shod to stand down peacefully. But right now our biggest concern is actually finding him—and Applejack—before things get worse.”

Cadance suddenly flinched, then glanced towards the entrance of the station. Then, she broke into a smile. “We may be getting a solution to that,” she said.

Rainbow gave her a befuddled look. It was at that moment that Rarity and Fluttershy both exited the train and glanced around.

Cadance winked at Rainbow. “You may want to take a step back,” she advised, then followed her own advice.

Rainbow cocked her head, more confused than ever, then followed her example.

At first, nothing happened. Then, Rainbow felt the most peculiar heat emanating from somewhere in front of her. Pebbles on the roadway jittered and danced of their own accorded. A faint, but unmistakable glow grew out of midair, casting shadows across the benches and trash bins along the platform.

Then, without warning, Rainbow watched the space at the end of the train station platform suddenly pinch together, like it was imploding, then rapidly it snapped back with a deafening bang that produced enough force to knock the breath out of Rainbow and everypony standing nearby.

And just like that, there were now three ponies standing in front of them. One was immediately recognized by three friends, who all gasped and cried out.

“Twilight!” they cheered.

The alicorn in question turned, blinking in surprise as Rarity, Fluttershy and Rainbow all galloped her way. They, however, were nowhere near as fast as one overjoyed big brother.

“Twiley!” Shining cried out, and proceeded to all but tackle her off her hooves long before the rest of her friends reached her.

“Oof!” Twilight complained as she was picked up in a crushing hug and whirled around.

“You’re safe! Oh thank Celestia!”

“You’re welcome,” said the diarch herself, smiling in bemusement as she did.

It was then that Shining Armor took stock of the others accompanying Twilight.

Princess Celestia stood next to her pupil, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Even at night, she seemed to give off an otherworldly glow, as if no shadow could dull her coat.

At her other side, however, stood an umbral mare more accustomed to the peaceful dark. It was the sight of Princess Luna’s arched eyebrow that brought Shining Armor back to reality, causing him to rapidly replace Twilight back on her hooves and snap to attention.

“Luna?” Cadance said, pulling up short. “I wasn’t expecting you, as well.”

The princess of the night gave Cadance a mercurial look. “Equestria’s protection is not the sole duty of my sister,” she commented. “When I heard about what happened to Twilight Sparkle, I could not sit idly by.”

Celestia cast an apologetic smile towards her sister, then turned towards Cadance. “You must excuse Princess Luna. She is… at odds with some of my decisions of late.”

Luna gave Celestia a look that would have driven a lesser pony to cowering. “We were discussing a fitting punishment for the perpetrators of this travesty,” she said stiffly. “And we are given to understand that public executions are now frowned upon in this day and age.”

“That they are,” Celestia commented politely.

Luna turned towards the others. “Therefore, a public hanging is out of the question.”

“Luna,” Celestia cautioned.

“However,” Luna went on, pointedly ignoring the chastising look her sister was giving her, “there are more pressing matters at hoof, are there not?”

“Yes,” Cadance answered, frowning.

Meanwhile, as the three princesses conversed, Twilight found herself once again scooped up in a hug – this time by three relieved friends.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so happy you’re safe,” Fluttershy said, overjoyed yet still soft-spoken.

“Pfft, I wasn’t worried at all,” Rainbow said dismissively. “A couple goons against Twilight “One-Pony-Army” Sparkle? Not a chance!”

Twilight rolled her eyes at her.

“Oh, and you won’t believe what we found out in the Crystal Empire!” Rainbow gushed, but was suddenly and quite unceremoniously tossed aside, making room for an exuberant pearly white unicorn.

“That can wait. You simply must tell us what happened,” Rarity insisted. “How did you escape? Don’t leave out any detail, darling!”

“It is a most thrilling tale,” said Cassava.

To that, three mares screamed and jumped back, suddenly realizing there was a fifth party in their midst.

With an amused chuckle, Cassava’s form shimmered into existence, giving shape to his huge grin. “Buenos noches,” he greeted casually while leaning against a bench.

“He does that,” Twilight deadpanned, seeing the looks of shock on everypony’s faces. “If you ignore him, maybe he’ll stop.”

Cassava turned a hurt-filled look on her. “Reina, you wound me.”

“Oh I’ll wound you,” Twilight said menacingly. “But we’ve got more important things to do first.” She then glanced over her shoulder, looking around the empty square beyond the train station. “Agave? You can come out now.”

After a short pause, the tiny changeling filly materialized at Twilight’s side, looking somewhat sheepish. “Hi, everypony,” she said.

Rarity blinked at her. “Um… aren’t you supposed to be in the changeling district?”

“I’ll explain later,” Twilight said as Agave shied away into her side. “Listen, I think I know how to fix Applejack.”

“You do?” Rarity said, cocking her head to one side.

“Yes,” Twilight said with a nod. “It’s her crown! It acts like a storage vessel for her Corastone. If we can get it away from her, and find a way to break it open, we can get to her Corastone!”

Everypony blinked, surprised. Then Rainbow dropped on hoof onto the other in dawning realization. “Ooooh. So that must be where the rest of it is.”

Twilight gave her an uncomprehending look. “Rest of what?”

“The Corastone,” Rainbow said. “Oh yeah, by the way? I sorta have one of those in me, too. Neat, right?”

At that, Twilight gaped in astonishment at her. “There’s a WHAT inside you?! How did you find out – no, when did it happen? How did it get in there? Have there been any adverse effects? We need to do a full battery of screenings immediately!”

Beside her, Rarity cleared her throat meaningfully.

“…But I guess that can wait,” Twilight mumbled sheepishly. “B-but only if you tell me everything!”

“Well,” Rainbow said, tilting her head to one side, “It’s some sort of piece of something Applejack didn’t want to be separated. I… guess. Look, the ghosts weren’t really specific when they pulled it out of me.”

“What ghosts?” Twilight cried out.

Rarity took that moment to step up beside Twilight and put a reassuring hoof across her shoulders. “It’s been a very eventful night, darling,” she summarized. “Allow me to sum it up for you. You, uh, may want to sit down…”

“Yeah, you go do that,” Rainbow said, batting a dismissive hoof. “Oh, and don’t leave out the part where I kicked Acorn Tot, or whatever her name was!”

While Rarity lead a mildly frazzled Twilight away, Rainbow turned towards the two changelings, one of which was trying very hard not to burst out into fits of laughter.

“So… You guys find out anything interesting from the goons that did all this?” she asked. “Like, was it secretly some kind of changeling plot all along?”

“No,” Agave responded, looking slightly disappointed. “I thought it would be, too. It made so much sense. But it was some pony named Bullion that foalnapped Twilight. We checked; he wasn’t a changeling.”

“It seems he was in possession of a changeling crown,” Cassava interjected. “Or… maybe it’s best to say the crown was in possession of him. Old magic is always very confusing.”

Rainbow gave him a surprised look. “Really? Where is it?”

Cassava shrugged at that. “I can’t say. Reina Celestia’s soldiers are turning the mansion upside down looking for it, but right now there’s still no sign of it. If anypony else claimed to have seen it, I’d be starting to think they made it all up. But, as funny as Reina Twilight Sparkle is, she is no liar.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Rainbow said, lapsing into thoughtfulness. “Hmm…”

“Is something wrong?” Agave asked nervously, making Rainbow jump.

“Oh! No, just thinking. What’s important is that Bullion got caught. Now we just need to fix Applejack and call it a day. Easy!”

“Not quite.”

Rainbow turned as the three princesses approached, all looking serious. At their head, Celestia had the heaviest frown. “Captain Steel Shod’s choice to mobilize the Ponyville division must indicate that Bullion’s call to action managed to get out ahead of his capture,” she said. “The captain would never react this fast, given that the only ones who know of Applejack’s current condition are either present, or behind bars.”

A look crossed Rainbow’s face when she heard that. “Wait. Are you telling me Steel Shod was in on it all along?” And then a look of horror crossed her face, “And I missed my chance to tell Twilight I told you so?!”

She suddenly snapped her head around, staring intensely down towards the other end of the train platform and in the direction of two mares. “Hey Twilight!” she shouted.

“What?” Twilight shouted back.

“I TOLD YOU SO!”

Now smiling with satisfaction, she turned back towards the awaiting diarch. “Okay, crisis averted. You were saying?”

Celestia gave her a bemused smile, then straightened her expression. “By Twilight’s account, however, that is not entirely the case.”

“Uh… what?”

Celestia’s grin was back. “According to her testimony, Steel Shod turned down Bullion’s offer of allegiance. But it is entirely possible that Bullion still reached out to him, hoping to still use him as a pawn in his own agenda. Knowing Captain Steel Shod, he would not hesitate to jump to the defense of Ponyville.”

“So what’s the difference?” Rainbow grumbled. “Either way he needs a good pummeling.”

“That seems to be the case,” Luna added. “Unfortunately, Bullion has succeeded in creating a scenario in which Steel Shod is in his rights to attack Queen Applejack in the name of defending Ponyville. And I do believe he will not hold anything back in the pursuit of that objective.”

“Pfft, like we’d let him do that. So what’re we waiting for?” Rainbow questioned, already in the air and restlessly flitting about. “Let’s go put a stop to him right now!”

“No, Rainbow,” Celestia stated firmly. “Applejack takes priority. Luna and Cadance will ensure the changeling swarm does not interfere. Be it by our hooves or Steel Shod’s, our efforts to cure Applejack may be construed as hostile by them. Precautions must be taken to ensure everypony’s safety, as well as the hive’s.”

“And… what about you?” Fluttershy asked.

Celestia smiled kindly. “Me? Well, I intend to have a brief discussion with the good captain. It will be up to him how brief it shall be.”

Rainbow’s eyes sparkled as the princess turned elegantly away. “So… awesome…”

Celestia’s eye twinkled at her, then she quickly strode away, opened her wings, and took flight into the night sky. Rainbow watched her go, until she felt a nudge against her side.

Looking up, Rainbow nearly jumped out of her skin. Princess Luna looked down at her, her façade as mysterious as ever. “I suggest you hurry after my sister. Wherever Captain Steel Shod is, Queen Applejack will most certainly be close by.”

“I agree,” Cadance put in, stepping up beside Luna. “And as tempting as it might be to deal with Steel Shod yourself, leave him to Celestia.” She then turned her attention towards the ponies behind Rainbow. “Twilight, Fluttershy, Rarity? You should find Pinkie Pie, then meet up with everypony at Celestia’s location. Shining Armor, head to the Guard Post. If things get out of hand, sound the alarm and start evacuating ponies.”

Fluttershy and Rarity both nodded, but Twilight instead frowned. “Actually, I think I should go with Rainbow.” She turned towards her other two friends. “Can you handle finding Pinkie on your own?”

“Certainly,” Rarity said, running a hoof through her mane. “It’s amazing she hasn’t bumped into us yet.” As she spoke, she checked a nearby trash can, as if half expecting to find a giggly party pony stowed away inside. “I was half expecting her to appear by now.”

“We’ll find her,” Fluttershy told Twilight with a reassuring smile.

“Good,” Twilight said with a smile. She then turned toward Rainbow, who gave her a questioning look. “Let’s go,” she said.

“Twilight,” spoke up Luna, catching everypony’s attention. The alicorn in question looked around and noticed the meaningful look she was being given. “Take heed of Trochanter’s words,” Luna advised.

Twilight nodded again, looking serious. “I will. I’m not sure how, but… I will.”

Luna nodded in understanding.

“Uh… Trochanter who?” Rainbow questioned, looking confused.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Twilight said, turning back around. “Let’s go find Applejack.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rainbow grunted, and together they soared across the night sky, hot on Celestia’s tail.

“Okay!” Agave called out, trying to hide her pout. “We’ll just… stay out of it! Again!”

“It’ll probably be for the best,” Shining Armor said. 

The little filly looked around, and found the Captain of the Guard strapping on his imposing purple and gold trimmed armor. “Something tells me, even if we get Steel Shod to stand down, Applejack herself isn’t going to go down without a fight.”


~~***~~


A cold night breeze blew across Steel Shod’s frame, causing him to glance up. He stood atop a hill overlooking a shallow forested basin. On the far side, towering firs and aspens cast jagged dappled shadows across the horizon, blotting out the lowest stars. 

The fringe of the White Tail Woods flanked either side of the basin like an open pincer. In between Steel Shod and the tree line, a wide open field of wildflowers, patches of clover and lush grass blanketed the ground. A hush gripped the night; no animals called in the trees, and even the breeze sounded mute and hollow in the treetops.

The clearing was almost as big as two hoof-ball fields, giving Steel Shod plenty of room to work with, and the hill overlooking the basin provided the perfect vantage point from which to direct the imminent battle. All that was left to do was wait.

Behind him, his troops were already in formation, with the lights of a sleeping Ponyville at their backs. There would be no ground to fall back to. They would either fight here and win… or lose. 

His scan of his surroundings complete, Steel Shod went back to looking down into one raised hoof. There, an open locket looked back at him.

In the delicate golden frame, a mare smiled back at him, like she always had. Under the moonlight, it was hard to make out her colors, but Steel Shod would never forget. A coat as pink as the sunrise, and a long bushy mane as red as the sunset.

She wouldn’t approve of what he was about to do. There were a lot of things she wouldn’t approve of. But if she knew what that… that thing had put him through… how it’d twisted his mind into thinking she was still there, all so some parasite could suck him dry and use him to do its dirty work against his own people…! No, she wouldn’t hold it against him, and even if she did, he’d at least know that he did something to make sure it never, ever happened to anypony else. If anything else, that was goal he could live with.

“Sir?”

He clicked the locket closed between his forehooves, then tucked it into his armored collar. He turned, and found a cadet giving him a salute. “We’ve almost finished calibrating the weapon. We’ll be ready to fire at any time.”

Steel Shod nodded. “Good. Has there been any word from the scouts?”

“Nothing, sir,” the cadet said. “Not since the last sighting ten minutes ago. As far as we know, the target’s course remains unaltered.”

Steel Shod nodded again. Ever since the first flare had been sighted, he’d been doing his best to keep an eye on the approaching monster. So far, several scouts had already failed to report in, their whereabouts unknown.

“And has there been any word from Cloudsdale?” he inquired. “Can we count on Wonderbolt support?”

“Not yet, sir,” the cadet responded, looking a little nervous. “Um… I believe they were booked for a show in Las Pegasus this weekend.”

“Which puts them on the opposite end of Equestria,” Steel Shod growled. “Fine. We’ll make do with our best flyers. Gather up all the pegasi with wing power at or over ten on their records. They’ll be running interference.”

The cadet saluted in acknowledgement, when something swooped low over his head. He yelped in surprise, flinching downwards and looked around.

The owl hooted back at him as it flew away, sounding indignant.

“Where’d that come from?” the cadet grumbled, straightening up.

“Cadet.”

He looked around, praying he wasn’t about to be chewed out for such an embarrassing display in front of his superior office. But Steel Shod wasn’t even looking in his direction. He was staring off towards the horizon, as another bird whizzed over his head.

“Get the pegasi. Now,” he ordered.

As he did, a flock of quail zipped through the sky above them. A dozen ravens followed suit. Soon, the sky was filled with fleeing birds, all rushing away from the heart of the White Tail Woods.


~~***~~
	

Noise. Unending, deafening noise. Again she clutched at her head and swayed on the spot.

Her throat burned like it was filled with live coals. Her insides shivered and screamed for relief, creating so much noise…

She couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of anything. There was just the noise, the screaming need, the howling hunger that bellowed so loud she couldn’t string two thoughts together.

She felt on the verge of starvation, and yet her stomach didn’t growl. She felt on the verge of dehydration, yet her mouth was not parched. She felt feverishly hot, yet she didn’t sweat nor shiver. Some primitive, urgent need was in control, and it drowned out all else.

If she could just think…

Something was wrong. She was doing something she didn’t want to do. She was doing something bad, something that twisted her up inside. But she couldn’t figure out what it was. She couldn’t think…

She had to find something. She had to get it. She had to take it.

But the moment that imperative crystalized in her head, her very being revolted against it. Her revulsion was so acute it almost brought her to dry heaves.

Not that… anything but that!

She felt it again, a burning sensation in her body, in her forehead, across her skin and down in her very bones. She couldn’t do it. She had to do it, but she couldn’t! She was being twisted up inside and had no idea how to unravel herself. And the tighter she twisted, the more she felt herself slip…

Not… that…!


~~***~~


“Incoming!”

Steel Shod glanced sharply over his shoulder, saw a half dozen ponies staring up into the night sky and scattering, before he instinctively threw himself to one side. A split second later, a thirty foot tall pine tree slammed back to earth, tumbled end over end at least four times, leaving deep divots in the earth wherever it struck, and finally came to rest on its side halfway down the reverse slope of the hill.

“Where did that come from?” Steel Shod bellowed. “Somepony talk to me!”

“Dead ahead!” somepony shouted back. “We got movement in the trees!”


~~***~~


Something was pulling her. It wasn’t the noise… yet it was. But the pull… she couldn’t resist. It was leading her somewhere, somewhere she wanted to be.

She had to find it… she had to take it…

No! Not… not that…

But something inside of her knew, whenever she felt the pull, she felt something… an echo deep down, something like the promise of relief. It was irresistible. It was so tantalizing… 

She was calling to her…


~~***~~


“He said what?!” Rainbow exclaimed in disbelief.

“I know,” Twilight said back in total empathy. “It sounds impossible, and I was there! But even if it doesn’t make any sense, it may be our only shot.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around Trochanter,” Rainbow grunted, shaking her head. “So you’re telling me, all this time, it was—”

Rainbow let out a yelp so loud Twilight heard it. She came to a stop and turned around, and found Rainbow doubled over in midair.

She clutched at her chest so tightly it was like she was trying to keep it together. She periodically winced in pain and drew in sharp breaths.

“Something… something’s wrong,” Rainbow gasped. She grimaced again, grunting.

Through the sudden and inexplicable pangs shooting through her, she felt Twilight grab her shoulders. “Rainbow, what’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know,” Rainbow panted. “I-it’s got to be the Corastone. It’s…!” Her eyes suddenly widened with realization. “It’s Applejack. She’s… erg, she’s gotta be close.”

Rainbow looked up, and through the lights popping in front of her, she made out a pair of purple, worried eyes. “I think she’s… calling for me.”

Twilight’s eyes grew huge. She muttered something very complicated under her breath that included something about ‘resonation’. Rainbow was finding it difficult to pay close attention. Twilight suddenly tightened her grip on Rainbow’s shoulders. “Which way is it coming from?” she pressed.

Rainbow looked around. It didn’t make any sense. She had no idea what she was looking for. Yet she could feel a tug pulling her in a direction that felt so absurdly natural, like a path she’d flown a million times before…

And as she turned her head, desperately sweeping the rooftops around her, she saw it. A familiar flash of movement as something tall bounded over a thatched roof, leaving only a trail of red in its wake.

This way!

“That way,” she said. She felt Twilight’s hooves disappear, then she was racing off again, faster than ever. She didn’t even question it anymore.


~~***~~


Applejack didn’t push into the clearing. She carved her way into it.

Trees on either side of her were shunted to the side, ripping up roots and flinging dirt sky high. Low hanging branches were crushed to splinters, no matter how thick and sturdy they were.

Bushes were flattened out of her way, and rocks of all sizes sped away from her with enough velocity to embed themselves deep into whatever stopped them, be it wood, hillside, or the hastily erected barricades dotting the clearing beyond. The earth underneath her had nowhere to go, and so it was packed down hard until the soil was smooth and flat as a well-worn trail.

Across the clearing, Steel Shod stared down at her advancing form. She really was unrecognizable now; only the color of her mane was any indication of who she used to be. Her long, gangly legs moved stiffly, and her absurdly stretched out neck was held at a horizontal angle to the ground. She stared blankly through her tangled, matted mane, her gaze never falling on the force confronting her. It was like she couldn’t even see them.

That, at least, would make things easier on his conscience. After all, now he was just putting down another monster.

“Unicorns!” he barked. “Give her a volley!”

A cry went through the ranks, and several rows of armor-plated unicorns stepped forward. The front row took a knee, allowing the row behind them to aim their horns over their shoulders.

“Aim!” called out the sergeant at the regiment’s head.

The night was lit up by countless colors of magic as horn after horn illuminated in sequence. The sudden burst of so many colors got Applejack’s attention, and she paused.

“Fire!”

Bolts of aquamarine, jets of gold and lances of red, and every color in between shot forth down the hillside. Each spell hissed through the air, buzzing with lethal intent.

A few fizzled out before ever reaching their target, much to the embarrassment of their casters. Most swung wide, impacting the ground and the trees in front of, behind and on both sides of their intended target. Several, however, flew true, only to abruptly veer off course, as if caught in a high wind.

But the volley had its intended effect.

The monster paused, and turned her eyes up towards the hill. They had her attention now. She wasn’t staring past them anymore.

As she stared, she winced, and Applejack clutched at her head. There were so many of them, all radiating something tantalizing down towards her. It was like an aroma, but… not. But whatever it was, it was so hard to resist.

No!

Applejack groaned and shook her head. She couldn’t do that! She wasn’t… she wasn’t…!

Ah won’t do it!


~~***~~


Up on the hill, the soldiers took notice. “Sir!” one called out, “she’s stopped moving!”

“Good, get the pegasi in there! Formation M! On the double, colts!” Another series of cries rang out, orders relaying down the ranks. And in a field on the reverse slope of the hill, a squadron of pegasi spread their wings.

Steel Shod turned to watch them form up, when a shout rang across the ranks. “Sir! Sir, she’s doing something!”

Steel Shod turned around, was a second away from asking a question, when he noticed the intense, burning green light at the bottom of the basin.

Applejack’s entire body hummed with pent up energy. It crackled across every limb, coursing down from her horn. Steel Shod could actually see it pumping through her veins; each pulse of green light moved down each leg like a glow in the dark spider web.

The ground trembled. Rocks all around her were pounded deep into the hard packed ground, until they disappeared from sight. Her horn burned like a nuclear reactor.

“Shields!” Steel Shod bellowed, just as Applejack let out a terrible scream.

The shockwave hit Steel Shod like a freight train. The explosive bang left his ears ringing and his head spinning. By the time he regained his senses, he was on the ground some five feet from where he’d been standing.

Through the deafening ringing in his ears, he could hear the muffled, distant voices of an army in panic. As his eyes refocused, he saw ponies falling back, some desperately running for their lives. Most were picking themselves up just like he was, a few staggered about in a daze.

With a grunt, Steel Shod struggled to his hooves and shouted. “Form ranks! All of you, form ranks! Defensive positions, NOW!”

Not everypony responded immediately. Most were too keen on heading for the hills, or at the very least getting their heads back on straight. But most slowed, then took up battle formations once more, though not nearly as far over the ridge as before.

Steel Shod glared at them, then looked down into the basin. He soon realized, however, that basin was the wrong word for it anymore.

Applejack had blown a fifty foot wide crater in the shallow valley floor. The sheer force of her magical detonation sent cracks and fissures winding all the way up to where Steel Shod stood, and flattened whole tracks of forest behind her.

The ground immediately under Applejack’s hooves was black and glassy, the intense heat she’d vented having crystalized the earth beneath her. All around her, little embers scattered by the blast started to catch, speckling the area with small orange dots. Up on the hill, Steel Shod was starting to smell smoke.

His heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline pumping, Steel Shod turned to bellow over his shoulder. “Send in the pegasi!”


~~***~~


Everything was wrong… everything was so wrong inside her. She didn’t remember why. But she hurt so much inside… and the noise…

She just had to think… that’s all. If she could make sense of her situation, maybe she could make things right, not wrong. Maybe… maybe if the noise wasn’t so loud… if she could quiet the maelstrom churning and ripping and tearing inside of her…

It was getting harder to fight… and she was starting to forget what she was supposed to be fighting… Everything hurt… everything was wrong. All she wanted was to make it stop…

Something caught her attention. Movement in front. She looked up, and her eyes fell on a number of shapes rocketing up from the other side of the hill in front of her.

And then, they turned in her direction.

No… no, no, they had to stay away. They’d only make the wrong feeling worse!

But just as she thought they were going to fly right at her, the squadron of pegasi abruptly angled to one side and swerved sharply. Instead of charging straight at her, they began circling just a few dozen feet off the ground, making a circle a hundred feet across.

Then, they began to speed up. And as they sped up, the wind began to blow.

More pegasi joined the formation, more and more piling on the wing power as they spun, round and round, over the monster’s head. Faster and faster, until dust started to rise in the swirling gale. The thin traces of smoke started to swirl round and round through the basin. It started to howl, reaching a keening pitch as the funnel took form.

At the heart of the swelling tornado, the creature gasped for air and squared her stance. The eye was too narrow to afford her any relief from the pounding winds. Soon, toppled trees started whipping over her head as the tornado reached maturity.


~~***~~


Steel Shod watched the maelstrom take form with a grim feeling of success. Applejack was strong, but even she would be pinned down by a storm of this strength. He had no intention of giving her a moment’s rest, however.

He whipped his head around, turning towards the awaiting crews behind him. “Now!” he bellowed over the rising winds.

His order was relayed down the hill, to an awaiting crew tucked away at the back of the division.

The moment they got the order, they moved into action, and started clambering all over a mass of steel glinting in the moonlight.

One crew pony jumped into an awaiting seat and started cranking several wheels. And as he did so, the contraption sprang to life. As he worked, the weapon lifted itself off of its bed and thrust a long, reinforced barrel into the sky.

The design was simple. One might say crude, even. But the defenders of Griffonstone were good at taking crude and making something exquisitely deadly to fight the never-ending civil wars ripping the country apart.

A reinforced body of Cold Iron, impervious to magical influences, within or without. A kill zone of three kilometers in whatever direction it was pointed. A bore diameter wide enough to admit a scrawny pony. But it was the payload that made the artillery piece special.

Ponies clambered about the rear of the weapon. A hatch was pulled open, and a loading mechanism extended out like a protruding tongue. At the same time, two loaders hefted one of the weapon’s shells off of a nearby rack and lugged it into the breach. Both were very keen to keep their hooves away from the intensely glowing projectile housed in the tip. It hummed angrily as it was moved, and the second it was loaded, a loud pop rent the air, and bolt of lightning struck the metal breach.

The loaders jumped back, then cautiously stepped closer before swiftly pushing the block back into the weapon and slamming the hatch behind it.

Thorium. As volatile as one would expect essentially crystallized lightning to be. The material was fragile—no tougher than a nail on a hoof, in fact—but when it fragmented, it unleashed all of its pent up energy in one big burst, like water escaping a shattered aquarium. And a slug of thorium as big as the one loaded in the howitzer could contain the same amount of power as an entire thunderstorm, to be released all at once. Not even Princess Celestia herself could withstand a strike of that magnitude. At least, in theory. Steel Shod had no intention of ever testing that theory, but he was confident that there wasn’t a changeling alive who could survive it. 

That was Steel Shod’s hope, his one and only gamble. Applejack had to be stopped, here and now, for everypony in town, for his dearly beloved. And as far as executions went, an unfathomable amount of amperage was practically humane. It would be a quick, merciful death.

“Sir!” called a pony behind him over the roar of the tornado pinning his target down. “We’re ready to fire!”

Steel Shod had her where he wanted her. The eye of the tornado would be just wide enough for them to lob the shell down. It didn’t need to be a direct hit, as long as it came within twenty feet of her. His troops had been rigorously drilled on the firing range. They would not miss.

“Fire!” he ordered.

He braced as the command worked its way down the hill. Guards huddled against the ground, shielding themselves as best they could. Steel Shod made sure he kept his eyes on the target, unwilling to let himself miss even a second. He sucked in a breath and held it, and awaited the cannon blast.

…

And he waited.

After nearly ten seconds of agonizing anticipation, Steel Shod frowned. It shouldn’t take this long to line up the shot. He turned, intent on finding out what the wait was about.

What he found was a gold-tinted reflection of his own face, contained within the gorget around Princess Celestia’s neck.

“Pardon my interruption, Captain,” Celestia said tersely. “But that will be quite enough.”

Steel Shod stared at the Princess of the Sun with a look that could only be described as sheer, profound astonishment, which only grew even more profound when he glanced past her and witnessed the fate of his cannon, now completely disassembled and laid out in categorized fashion on the grass, right down to the smallest spring and washer.

Twilight Sparkle observed her handiwork with no small measure of pride, all the while holding the immobilized crew over her head in little spheres of violet magic without paying them the slightest heed.

Steel Shod stared at his dismantled weapon, his one and only hope of saving the ponies of Ponyville. Now, it was little more than odds and ends.

“What have you done?” Steel Shod breathed, his blood running cold. “Without that cannon…”

Down below, Twilight nodded to herself, pleased, and made her way up the slope towards the two of them. The spherical prison of ponies stayed where it was with no sign of weakening. As she approached, the accomplishment on her face was replaced with a stony frown. The ripping wind cast by the tornado yanked at her mane but it seemed to affect her little.

“Captain Steel Shod,” Celestia said next to him, and although the howling wind all but deafened him, her voice reached him without difficulty. When he looked towards her, he did not see anger of any sort on her face. Instead, she looked at him with the wounded disappointment of a mother. “I approved your transfer to Ponyville in the hope that spending time among changelings would heal that wound upon your heart. Perhaps… I have grown too optimistic of late. But this cannot be allowed to continue. Can you not see the path your hatred is setting you on?”

Steel Shod’s features composed themselves into a hard glare. “All I do, I do for the safety of Equestria!” He thrust a hoof down the hill, towards the swirling vortex’s heart. “Look for yourself! Even the best of them is nothing more than a monster! For every one good changeling, there are a hundred who would destroy everything we hold dear! I will not let another one of those things hurt anypony else! I won’t—”

“Enough.”

Steel Shod’s voice faded on his lips. Only then did he realize how loud he’d been shouting, and how hot his throat felt.

Celestia looked down at him, an eternal weariness dragging down her features. “That will be enough, Steel Shod. I cannot allow you to do this. For your sake above all others.”

Steel Shod searched her expression, at a loss.

“I understand the pain of loss,” she said calmly. “I have seen countless ponies born, grow, lead full, grand lives, and finally die. And I will see countless more. But it was always the ones I held dearest that hurt the most.”

Celestia turned to gaze towards the tornado. Despite the terrific maelstrom flattening trees and sending ponies skidding on their bellies across the ground, not a single hair in her mane rippled any more than usual.

“But to use their memories as fuel for your own rage does them a disservice. Ask yourself, Steel Shod; what would Amber Clad have to say to you right now?”

Celestia turned back towards a frozen Steel Shod, who struggled with all his might to maintain his composure, and uttered one final question. “And what would she have to say about what you are doing to your daughter?”

Steel Shod stared at her. Not a single thing she’d just said made sense. His daughter? He and Amber Clad had never had a…

And then the world fell out from under him.

Steel Shod found himself turning towards the monstrous tornado, which had grown wildly under the wing power of the squadron of pegasi that continued to rotate within it’s funnel.

“No… no that’s not possible…”

He turned sharply towards Celestia, glaring. “You’re lying. Amber Clad was not… We never…”

“It’s true!”

Steel Shod jerked around to stare a challenge at the much smaller purple pony princess trotting up towards him. Twilight had erected a barrier to shield herself from the lashing wind, and every so often in pulsated and flashed as some bit of debris impacted its surface.

“I know it sounds impossible,” Twilight shouted over the epic gale that screamed through the air. “But we wouldn’t be saying such a think if it wasn’t true!”

Steel Shod felt an angry, explosive heat rising up inside of him that threatened to detonate and boil over. But right as he opened his mouth to vent that heat, his eyes caught a glimpse of something thin and gilded swinging wildly around one of Twilight’s outstretched hooves.

He squinted, not quite making it out, until she drew nearer. On an offered hoof hung a thin golden chain ending in a tear-drop shaped locket embroidered with vine-like etchings. 

At first glance, it bore a startling resemblance to the same necklace tucked into his collar. But the longer he stared, the more he realized that it wasn’t just some coincidental similarity. It was identical in every way possible.

Only two such lockets existed in the world. One, obviously, was draped around his own neck, the locket itself pressing just under his collarbone. And the other…

Steel Shod snapped from his daze. All of a sudden, everything seemed crystal clear. Sharp. Real.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

Twilight didn’t quail. “Call off your men first,” she demanded right back.

Steel Shod’s glare was fiery; a lesser pony would’ve been driven to cowering on the floor while trying not to lose bladder control. “Do not test me, Sparkle.”

Twilight’s scowl hardened. “Don’t test me, Shod. That’s my friend you’re trying to hurt. Call off your men, and then we’ll talk. Not before.”

The tense standoff that followed was only interrupted by the mounting whirlwind screaming in their ears and whipping debris about their heads with alarming ease.

Finally, after several long seconds and nearly getting bludgeoned by new fewer than three different full grown poplars that dwarfed telephone poles, Steel Shod turned his head without breaking eye contact with Twilight.

“Cadet!” he barked.

Just beyond the rim of the ridgeline, where the wind wasn’t as ferocious, a stallion’s head popped up. His helmet was promptly blown clean off and sent sailing away into oblivion. “S-Sir?”

“Sound the bugle. I want those pegasi groundside immediately.”

A look of relief lightened Twilight’s features. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

Steel Shod, however, did not look any less wrathful. “You’ve got what you wanted, princess. Now tell me—”

Steel Shod’s demand was cut short by the appearance of a building, acidic green light.

Everypony turned in unison towards the enormous twister swaying at the foot of the ridge as the light grew from deep within its heart.

The screaming in their ears was no longer just caused by the wind. An eerie, otherworldly keening grated at everypony’s senses. The ground started to tremble, green arcs of power dancing through the soil and crackling in the whirling funnel.

Twilight didn’t know what was coming, but she felt the intense surge of energy washing over her. Magic so intense it felt almost alien blew out of the heart of the tornado, and it was getting stronger.

“That’s not good,” Twilight said in a small voice, as pegasi scattered through the sky. Most were launched from their rapid orbit and sent spinning and spiraling in every direction. Some fled with angry emerald flames greedily burning their tails.

The keening reached a fever pitch, reverberating through the very air around them. Every breath Twilight took was filled with static electricity that tingled all the way into her lungs.

“Twilight!” Celestia commanded, rounding on the growing surge.

“Right!” Twilight shouted back, turning to face the storm as well.

Both lowered their horns. Gold and lavender magic poured outward and quickly entwined into an iridescent wedge that swiftly flattened itself in front of them all, just in the nick of time.

The detonation that followed ripped the tornado to shreds, banishing it in totality. A wall of unleashed, wild energy barreled up the basin, flattening all in its path, except for the stalwart barrier erected in its path.

Twilight and Celestia both grunted as the blast hit their barricade and roared by on either side. The shield held firm, bending only slightly, but Twilight felt the earth under her hooves slip just an inch or two.

After just a moment, the wave of destruction passed, leaving their ears ringing and the smell of burnt grass clinging to their nostrils.

Twilight panted, the breath knocked out of her, and straightened up. As she did, the unified barrier melted away until nothing was left. And without it blocking her view, Twilight bore witness to the spectacle that now dominated the basin.

“Whoa,” she said under her breath as she raised her eyes skyward, following the shape of a monumental, crystalline structure.

It rose over a hundred feet into the air and was comprised of dozens of individual, curling structures, like a frozen fire. As it cooled, the towering structure turned from a superheated, green-hot state to a near black, glassy one. Curious and unsettling flashes of green light continued to dance deep inside each shaft, like the fiery glow of an ignited coal.

As they all stood there, spellbound and horrorstruck in equal measure, a voice reached them like the distant echo of a mountaintop.

“Get away from me!”

Twilight stared, her heart pounding in fear. “Applejack… She’s trying to stop herself.”

Beside her, Celestia squinted at the malignant thing now dominating the landscape. “I cannot fathom what she's done to herself, but unleashing this much magic will have taken its toll,” she said. “For the moment, she will be weak.”

She turned questioningly towards Twilight. “Which leads into my question. Where is Rainbow Dash?”


~~***~~


Rainbow glided rapidly through a toppled forest, bobbing and weaving around fallen trees. The stink of fire smoke and the burning smell she’d long since come to associate with changeling magic burned in her nostrils and tingled across her coat. She’d known that had been Applejack just now—of that she had no doubt.

But up ahead, another shape darted around a pine tree stump.

It had led her in a wide, curving path through the forest to the far side of where she knew Applejack was. If not for the new monument now darkening the night sky, then for the insistent pulling on her heart. By now she had to be on the opposite end of the basin from everypony else.

Now her mysterious and inexplicable guide had changed course, and was heading straight for the clearing.

The only reason Rainbow had followed it up to this point was because, simply put, it hadn’t steered her wrong before. But not it was looking like this thing had just intentionally wasted her time.

Irritated, she sped up, catching a scratch or two from branches as she blew through them. The clearing was almost in sight when she set herself down and quickly galloped out onto the baked, bare earth.

Experience so far had taught her that she’d find nothing of her guide. Up until that point, she fully expected the trend to continue. So it was a huge shock to find her way barred by a tall figure.

It stood with its back to her, easily rising twice her height. Even in the dimming light cast by the crystal prison, it was as black as a shadow, save for two points of long, draped red shapes—one on its head, and one on its backside.

Its form was indistinct and swirled like smoke. Only its towering, elongated shape and brilliant crimson areas gave it any real features.

But as Rainbow approached, she knew exactly who and what it was. She didn’t know how, or why she immediately jumped to the conclusion she did, but the identity jumped to her mind like she’d always known.

“Carnation,” she whispered.

The ghostly phantasm turned its nebulous head towards her. Though it had no features at all, Rainbow was filled with a serene feeling, like it was smiling at her. And then, without a sound, it dissipated into tendrils of black and red mist. And Rainbow knew, with curious certainty, that she would never see the phantom again. Whatever fragment had accompanied Applejack’s heart to her was spent. Everything was up to her now.

Rainbow set her sights on the looming black crystal. The tug on her heart pulled stronger than ever.

As she drew closer, she felt a peculiar thrumming in the air. Power radiated all around her, rippling through the ground and coursing deep into the earth. As she approached, Rainbow saw strange things poking up through the dirt—strange black things that had no name, all thorn and dark intent.

Applejack was an earth pony at heart. She was channeling her magic the only way she knew how, Rainbow realized. And now whatever corruption had taken hold of her was leaking into the world itself. Just walking over dead grass and baked earth, she felt a building sense of unease not like her. It was like a sickness that was intent on darkening her mood with every step she took.

But finally, she reached the crystalline wall that now barred her path. By then she felt almost queasy from the smell of dead vegetation and smoldering fires, and that malignancy that poisoned the air.

And though a dozen dark emotions were beginning to rise inside of her, Rainbow stared squarely at the wall of crystal. She raised a hoof and touched its warm, thrumming surface experimentally.

And the next thing she knew, she was falling forward into nothing, and all went black.
 
	
> Chapter 24: The Phantom Queen
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was a rare sort of day, indeed, that Twilight found herself at a total loss, and most of the time that was only because she did not have all of the facts, a point she would not hesitate to vehemently raise. She was not the sort to not have answers when the need arose.

Unfortunately, now she was finding herself in that very awkward position, eyes fixated on a towering sinister silhouette that defied her every explanation.

She, along with a dozen more ponies, stared up with varying degrees of awe and trepidation at the monolithic crystalline structure now dominating the countryside. In the dark of the night, it gave off an eerie, pulsating green light that darted and flitted amongst its many spires and stratified plates, visible just beneath the surface. The dim flicker of firelight upon its lower structure revealed its dark, dark green coloration and glassy, pockmarked surface otherwise devoid of imperfection.

While she didn’t know what to make of the new manifestation, she knew how she felt about it. Just laying eyes on the thing filled her with unease. The malignant light flashing beneath its surface seemed at times brooding, furtive, like the stealthy activity of some malevolent force. And perhaps it was her imagination, but the towering monolith seemed even larger than when it had first appeared, and somehow darker – in color and theme. Could it somehow be growing?

Twilight tore her eyes off of the vaguely pinecone-shaped structure and glanced to her right, towards Celestia. Whatever insights she might have, however, she was keeping to herself. Celestia studied the structure with a worried eye, her careful inspections tracing minutely over its every contour as if looking for something that evidently escaped Twilight.

“So,” Twilight started, feeling compelled to fill the void of silence. “This is… new.”

Celestia nodded, but otherwise her features did not change. “Indeed. I have never seen anything quite like this before.”

Her eyes trailed down toward the base of the towering crystal, and her expression grew even more worried. Twilight followed her gaze, and felt her heart jump in her chest.

The blasted and ruined ground was undergoing a monstrous transformation both alicorns could see even from their extended distance. Strange, otherworldly growths were bursting through the baked soil. Black vines snaked upwards, curling queerly through the air as if grasping blindly. They creeped their way up the sides of the crystal, visibly growing in length as they slowly spread.

“This could be bad,” Twilight murmured. “It’s like it’s… corrupting the land.”

Celestia nodded. In the next moment, she was interrupted by the hasty clatter of armor. She and Twilight both turned to find three guards quickly clambering up the hill towards them. Their helmets were askew, their weapons long gone. Judging by the paleness of their faces, they weren’t coming bearing good news.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” the lead stallion panted before diving into a low apologetic bow. “We searched as best we could, but we can’t find any trace of Rainbow Dash, nor could we find a way inside. There doesn’t appear to be any opening whatsoever on its surface.”

Twilight cast a deeply worried look towards the monolith. “I know I saw her approach it. But… where could she be?”

“Wherever she is,” the guard went on. He’d almost caught his breath by now, “I don’t think she’d still be near that thing.”

Celestia and Twilight turned a curious eye towards them. “Why not?” Celestia asked.

The guard shivered, and chanced a glance over his shoulder at the malevolent shadow darkening the forest horizon behind him. “There’s… something really wrong with that thing. I took a full platoon down to it, but almost right away we had problems. You can just feel it… like it’s sapping everything good right out of the world. It started with the greenhorns; a couple started bickering completely out of the blue. Dunno what possessed ‘em to air their grievances right then and there, but before long they were shouting all this terrible stuff at each other. Next thing I knew, half the unit was arguing and bickering. I… I said some things, myself… But I managed to grab who I could and get out of there. The… the others…”

He glanced again, and shivered. “They’re… they’re still down there. I don’t know what’s gotten into them, but it’s like all they can focus on is their anger for each other. It ain’t natural, Your Majesty. It… it just ain’t.”

Celestia frowned, worry mounting. “So then, it’s worse than I had feared.”  She said to herself. “I had hoped this to be some manner of cocoon, perhaps a last ditch effort by Applejack to imprison herself before she hurt anypony. Now, though, I fear that that is not the case.”

Twilight gave her a searching look. “Princess, that… that almost sounds like…”

Celestia nodded. “Changeling magic. Whatever that structure is, it’s consuming all of the love around it for some purpose.”

“That’s not the half of it,” the guard grumbled.

Again he found himself subjected to the two princesses’ undivided attention. He shifted uncomfortably, but managed to rally his courage after a little work. “We managed to forge ahead all the way to the crystal formation’s base. Even with everypony fighting, we could at least focus on getting the job done. But as I said, we couldn’t find a way inside. Worse, though, was that our unicorns seemed to be having some manner of difficulty with their spells. They weren’t able to manifest their magic like they were supposed to. At the time it just… um… made me so mad I didn’t stop to think of the implications, but now…”

Twilight’s eyes grew huge. “It’s devouring magic, too?” she gasped. “Love and magic? Why would anything need that much power?”

Celestia had no answer. All she could give was a deeply troubled look. Then, she glanced over Twilight’s shoulder, to some point several yards away.

Twilight knew what she was glancing at, but even so she still felt compelled to turn and look.

Steel Shod stood on the rim of the basin, all by himself. He stared, as he had been, at some central point in the crystalline formation. He had not moved an inch since the last time Twilight had looked at him, and that had been some time.

A part of her wanted to know very much how he was coping. Finding out you’re the father of your mortal enemy is bound to leave some shock and astonishment. Yet apart from his initial outburst of denials, Steel Shod had gone numbly silent. None of his subordinates came to him for anything, and instead left him well enough alone. Twilight knew she should, too, and that there were more pressing matters at hoof. But nevertheless, she was worried.

A sigh from Celestia brought her back around. When Twilight looked at her, she found Celestia looking at Steel Shod as well with a heavy expression that probably mirrored her own.

“For the moment,” Celestia said, and she sounded amazingly levelheaded considering where her thoughts must be, “we need to determine the exact threat of this formation why it requires so much power.”

“I know why!”

Everypony jumped, completely caught off guard by the unexpected shout. Celestia and Twilight both turned in unison to find a pair of royal guards leading the way up the hill. Right behind them was a mare Twilight recognized, but it was the shape draped weakly across her back that caught her attention.

“We’re sorry for the interruption, Your Majesty,” the gruff guard leading the way huffed, “but she insisted meeting with you.”

“Yeah,” said the pegasus mare, “but it wasn’t my idea, either.” She glanced worriedly over her shoulder, at the one sitting on her back.

Nopony could have missed the changeling drone. If her obsidian form hadn’t given her away, her glowing blue eyes definitely had. Guards all around were turning to face the intruder, some tightening their grips on their weapons. All around, the murmuring began; changelings weren’t supposed to be out of the district. Just who was this outsider, and why was she being brought to the princesses.

The only thing that stopped a more proactive reaction was the sorry state of the drone herself. She could barely lift her head, and the rest of her body hung limply. If it weren’t for her ride’s outstretched wings acting as guard rails, she likely would’ve fallen off the pegasus’ back.

Still, more than a few eyes turned towards Steel Shod. Only a few would ever swear that they saw him glance in their direction before turning away again.

“Please… please listen to me,” the drone begged in a weak voice. Upon hearing the speaker, Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Bumblebee?” she said in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” Cloudkicker quipped, a little out of breath. “And frankly, I don’t know what’s going on, either. But when we felt those explosions just now, she demanded I bring her here and–whoa.”

Cloudkicker paused near the top of the hill. Her eyes went huge as she stared at the enormous crystalline structure on the other side. “That’s… new. Is that new? I feel like that’s new.”

“It is,” Twilight said, and anyone could detect the slight impatience in her voice. “But you said you knew what it was?”

Bumblebee managed a weak nod. “Yes. It’s... Applejack is making a hive.”

Celestia arched an eyebrow. “A hive? Here?”

Bumblebee nodded again. “She must be trying to stop herself, but… but she’s done something much, much worse instead. That crystal will continue to grow, and it will absorb every bit of magic and love around it to get bigger. Normally a swarm provides the love, but if it can’t get enough… it’ll just drain it out of the earth and every living thing around it. When it grows bigger, it will reach further. Then, when it’s matured, it’ll assimilate whatever’s around it to take it’s final form. That… that crystal is just the… core. The hive itself will be a lot bigger.”

Celestia raised a worried eyebrow. “And just how far will it reach?”

Bumblebee gulped. “Ten… ten miles. In every direction. But that’s just a normal queen. Someone like Applejack… with all the power she has… it could reach even farther. Way farther.”

Twilight turned very pale. “With that kind of range, it would completely absorb Ponyville, if not most of Equestria!”

“I… I don’t think it’ll be that bad,” Bumblebee mumbled, but Twilight ignored her and turned away.

“We have to find a way to slow it down,” Twilight stated. “We need to give Rainbow time to reach Applejack!”

Cloudkicker raised a dubious eyebrow at her. “And… how do you suggest we do that without using magic, princess?”

“Well…,” Twilight started, suddenly very apprehensive again, “I have an idea… but it could be a really, really bad idea.”

“Well, bad ideas are better than no ideas,” Cloudkicker pointed out. “And it if gives Rainbow the chance she needs, we might not have a choice.”


~~***~~


With a thud, Rainbow landed face first onto something cold and unyielding. It wasn’t her most graceful moment.

“Ow,” she complained, then righted herself and looked around.

She found herself in one of the most bizarre locations she’d ever seen. Everywhere were brilliant green crystals that glowed with an intense unsettling light and filled her ears with a constant, droning hum. There were no walls, floor or roof, per se; just an empty space between massive formations growing however they wanted. It was claustrophobic in the extreme, with just enough space on either side of Rainbow to allow her to stand and look around.

The air hummed and crackled, and there was a strange heat emanating from all around that made things just humid enough to be uncomfortable.

But the really odd thing was how everything was moving.

Right before Rainbow’s eyes, a pillar of crystal as wide around as a tower suddenly split in two. Another shaft simply shrank out of existence, retreating improbably into a nearby wall. At other times, columns and entire formations suddenly sprouted into being, filling out like cascading water before solidifying into imperviousness. All around her, echoing down the passageway in front and reverberating with the amalgamated walls, Rainbow could hear incessant splintering and cracking, like ice taking form or fracturing explosively.

The constant sense of motion was disorienting, giving the passageway ahead the unnerving appearance like it was undulating this way and that, fang-like daggers of crystal extending then contracting before Rainbow’s eyes. It was as if she were staring down the throat of a living, breathing organism.

Normally, Rainbow would have nothing to do with something so blatantly unnatural and sinister-looking. But as she rose, she could feel it in her chest; she was close. Somewhere up ahead, Applejack was waiting for her. She simply knew it in that instinctive, tugging way that she’d experienced before.

“Okay… You got this, RD,” Rainbow muttered to herself, concentrating on that first shifting step she had to take. “It’s… it’s just like in Daring Do and the Quest For Shangri-Lama. Just… less cragodile pits. Yeah, nothing to it. You got this!”

Rainbow steadied herself and took a deep breath. “Do it for her.”

She closed her eyes, and with her heart throbbing painfully in her throat, she leapt—and landed squarely on a jutting spire that burst forth to catch her.

She let out her breath in relief, then jumped again. And again, a fan-shaped plate of energized emerald erupted into being to give her purchase. Where her hooves touched it, it rippled just beneath the surface, sending bands of green light skittering in every direction.

Now she paused to take note of it. The first time she would have brushed it off as sheer dumb luck, but twice in a row? Rainbow glanced behind her, and noticed the shaft that had first saved her had already withered away into nothing, yet her current platform was perfectly stable and sedentary, in complete contrast with the constant state of motion all around her.

She tried again. She took a normal step this time, aiming it over the rim of the platform she stood on. And again, a diamond-shaped formation grew out of a diagonal section of the wall nearly instantly to meet her and remained stationary, even as the formation it jutted out from twisted and writhed with a mind of its own.

Her confidence growing, Rainbow attempted a steady stride, though it was still unnerving to place one hoof after another over empty space. Yet time and time again, she found her hooves caught by solid ground and so gradually her speed increased. She found herself steadily climbing, each fresh “step” an inch or two elevated from the previous one. It wasn’t long before she was surrounded on all sides by a quivering, convulsing geode of hot, glowing green crystals.

At one point she eyed the undulating ceiling, and briefly considered opening her wings and flying. The passageway was growing steadily wider as she went, to the point that soon it was averaging a width wide enough for four ponies side by side and perhaps fifteen feet of headroom. Further along, it grew wider still, before the cavity abruptly changed course in a direction Rainbow couldn’t quite make out yet. But the light pouring in from in front of her was brighter still, and the air circulating down from that opening positively crackled with welled up energies. Rainbow did not need to consider long that that was where she needed to go.

It would have been faster to fly, and she was eager for even half a reason to do so, but the disorienting motion of everything around her kept her grounded, if only to keep her equilibrium. The fact that an obstacle could materialize within a split second also did not make for safe flying conditions.

By now she freely admitted to herself that she had absolutely, positively no idea what was going on, but it was working, so she didn’t question it. She’d seen enough freaky magical stuff in the last twenty-four hours for it to not really faze her anymore.

“Heh,” Rainbow chuckled before she could stop herself. “This might be easier than I thought.”

That was when a tremble ran through the amalgamated hallway. The very crystals in the walls jittered and stuttered as a consequence, momentarily grinding to a halt.

Rainbow paused, uncertainly coming back to her. “What was that?”

She stood motionless for several seconds, all of her senses tuned in for any anomaly. Though, considering everything around her was an anomaly, she wasn’t sure what to even listen for. The sounds of splintering and cracking continued in unseen reaches all around her, and once the tremor passed, the crystals began grinding and rasping against each other again.

For a long time, nothing happened. Then, out of nowhere, a chill ran up Rainbow’s spine. It was the first indication of a shift in the atmosphere, hitting her a split second before a rush of cold, foul air screamed down through the passageway.

Rainbow was blasted by the most awful stench she’d ever smelled. It was sour, like a thousand rotten and fermented apples concentrated together. Rainbow made a sound of disgust, then clamped a hoof over her nose.

As the shrieking wind rolled over her, Rainbow could have sworn that the light inside the crystals all around her flickered, dimming noticeably. And there was something else on the wind… something that teased her ears. It was a sound buried under the howling… a sound that she could almost swear sounded like a few strands of a song.

Then, before Rainbow could adjust to this, the ground below burst open.

Black vines as big around as the blue pegasus exploded forth, shattering crystal as easily as glass. They snaked through the hallway, gouging their way wherever they might choose to go thanks to the serrated, purplish thorns covering their surfaces. Rainbow had to spring into the air as a massive knot of braided vines coursed in her direction, smashed her perch, and then diverged in countless directions further down, where they continued to extend out of sight.

“What the…,” Rainbow gasped, heart pounding. 

Something wet splatted against her shoulder.

She glanced at it, and immediately recoiled in revulsion. Caked onto her shoulder was a reeking, viscous mass of black tar. Pulling a face, she swatted the globule off of her, then made a disgusted sound when she found her hoof coated in that same black ooze. “Eeew,” she whined. “What the hay is this stuff?”

She glanced up, throwing an accusation. There, she found a strange crack in the otherwise unbroken surface of the crystals surrounding her. And from that crack, black sludge was seeping. Another glob was threatening to fall on her again, and so she quickly flapped her wings in a different direction. As she did, she just thought she could make out something beyond the surface of the crystal around the crack; a black mass, like a subsurface reservoir darkening its internal glow.

As she stared at it, the echo of a ghostly voice resurfaced in the back of her mind.

…Harken unto me, little pegasus. The shadow thou will face is a most sinister fiend, cruel and cunning without compare…

Rainbow scowled at the evil-looking ooze. Right… of course it won’t be that easy…when is it ever?

As Rainbow floated there, thinking quickly, some part of her became aware of a strange dimming of the omnipresent green glow around her. She glanced around curiously, and her eyes fell on a straight plain of opaque crystal. At first her eyes swept over it, until a crack split its surface with an explosive report. And from that gash, black ooze began to trickle into sight.

The ooze carried that same fetid stench of rancid apples and other foul notes Rainbow didn’t have words to describe.

“What is this stuff?” she questioned aloud, as another crack split open along the side of a tapered spire.

Again the tunnel trembled, and Rainbow could just make out the sounds of destructive burrowing somewhere deep inside the structure to her left. It was that sound that finally brought her to action again.

Rainbow turned back towards the wider end of the cavity, and after noting the large number of bladed, gnarled vines now clogging the passage, she knew she had no other option but to stay airborne.

She took a deep breath, held it, then propelled herself forward at a cautious pace. Despite the motionless vines and building reservoir of black foulness below, the crystal tunnel continued to flex and change, though Rainbow picked up on a certain erratic aspect to it now.

Periodically, a lance of green crystal would sprout, struggle to grow, and then become unnervingly dark before bursting open with more of that nasty black ooze.

Urgency eating at her now, Rainbow threw caution to the winds and sped up. A new kind of fear rose in her heart, and it coiled around her thoughts of a lost amber-maned changeling.


~~***~~


Rainbow had flown through some pretty wild obstacles before, but nothing compared to that claustrophobic tunnel. It seemed like the deeper she went, and the wider it got, the more drastic the undulations became. The heat and glow surrounding her rose as well, giving her the strange impression that she was flying into the heart of some sort of furnace.

The corridor, despite its erratic and chaotic state of flux, was definitely starting to arch upward, Rainbow could feel it. She found herself having to go down less and up more while avoiding getting skewered by emerging spires.

And the deeper she went, the more of those vines and greasy black sludge she found. It was everywhere, in fact, emerging constantly from the walls, roof and floor. Everywhere they touched, the light from the crystals dimmed, sometimes even going out completely.

Again a wave of reeking air shrieked down the passageway with enough force to buffet her. And again, over the grating scream of it, Rainbow thought she heard something—more certainly now. Up ahead, she just made out a low voice and a few discordant strands of singing. Though she could only barely pick it up, something about it sent a cold chill right down into her heart, gripping her with a nameless fear.

But Rainbow shook it off, berating herself. Now was absolutely not the time to be turning into a scaredy cat! It was just wind, nothing else. She had way more important things to be focusing on than some half-heard maybe-sound, like not getting nailed by growing crystals.

Rainbow bobbed up over a hexagonal column erupting from below, weaved around a jutting shelf of emerald stabbing up from her lower right, and the next thing she knew, she burst out into a humongous open chasm.

On either side of her, the walls suddenly fell away to reveal a space some two hundred feet high and fifty wide, though gauging its exact proportions was all but impossible given how much it shifted and warped. Here and there, Rainbow made out other such gaps like the one she’d emerged from; not really a passageway, but rather a coincidental cavity that the shifting crystals did not grow to seal off.

And in the center of the chamber, rising from the floor almost to the ceiling, was a single feature; a spindly spire of dazzling green emerald. The sheer impossibility of the structure was clear to Rainbow, even without any sort of grasp on subjects like geometry and physics. The spire was thinner than her in places despite rising more than a hundred and fifty feet in the air, and possessed several uneven bends and kinks along its length. Near the top were disks and other formations that radiated from it, topping with a large pyramid-shaped outcropping choked by countless shafts and spokes of some sort of intensely glowing crystal. How it was able to even hold itself up was a mystery, for only the base had a number of thick emerald shafts fused to it like support pylons.

Rainbow eyed the top of the structure, her gaze falling on the brightest point in the entire area.

“If I were a betting pony,” she said to herself, “I’d bet that’s where I’ll find AJ.”

She was about to set off again when yet another tremble ran through the walls. Several long shafts of emerald broke free from the force and tumbled silently down, before spectacular crashes that reverberated through the chamber. 

Rainbow looked up a second after an ominous cracking sound filled the air, and when she turned, she found still more thick black vines bursting from the walls. Several wound through the air, blindly swiping, before lashing to the crystal spire in the center of the chamber. Dozens followed suit, burst into the open air before anchoring themselves to the brilliant formation.

Rainbow’s heart jolted, but the spire remained upright. But even as she breathed a sigh of relief, something reached her ears from some unknown direction. This time, there was no mistaking it for what it was.

“Rain, rain, go away… come again another day. Let me out, so I may play… Before I wash it all away. Rain, rain, go away…”

The chilling sing-song voice trailed away into a series of unnerving cackles that seemed to come from a number of directions at any given time. It was like whatever the source was, it was moving. That thought sent a shiver up Rainbow’s spine.

“Okay, that’s really starting to freak me out,” Rainbow muttered to herself. She glanced around, but finding nothing of interest, she once again set her sights on the pinnacle of the spire, and started her ascent.

She proceeded cautiously, some sense of dread hampering her haste. Every so often, Rainbow felt compelled to glance over her shoulder, to make sure the sensation of eyes on her was just her imagination.

Halfway up, Rainbow realized what was unnerving her so much. The chamber had grown dead quiet. The tremors, the sounds of shifting, all of it had paused. It was as if something was tensing while it waited to see what she did next.

A third of the way up, Rainbow paused. The sensation of being watched couldn’t just be her imagination anymore. She looked around while she cautiously skirted around the broad body of a gnarled vine.

“Over here…”

Rainbow squeaked and spun around, hooves up for a fight. The crystal shaft she found herself confronted by, however, was decidedly less inclined to fight. “W-who’s there?” Rainbow shouted.

A nebulous whispering sound came to her, secretive and indistinct. In came from one direction, then another, and another. Rainbow spun around, trying to track it, but only once did she ever see anything, and it left her with more questions than answers.

On one of four go-arounds, Rainbow just caught a shape out of the corner of her eye. It was indistinct, and moved with terrifying speed up and away from here. Stranger still, it seemed to be flitting about inside the crystals. It’s shape was too indistinct, too fuzzy to be in the chamber with her, and yet she knew she’d spotted something. At least, she thought she had.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone again. But that silence remained.

Rainbow stifled a nervous gulp, then started to rise again. That was when the voice called out to her again.

“So… this is the ‘legendary’ Rainbow Dash herself…”

Rainbow turned, next expecting to see anything once more. Instead, her heart sprang into her throat when she noticed something dark and very visible lurking just beneath the surface of a crystal behind her. Worse, it had the vaguest shape of an elongated caricature of a pony.

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to meet face to face. Dear Applejack has told me so very much about you. She was so convinced you’d be here to save her in time. She held out for so very long… It was exhausting just watching her keep it up. But now here we are, at the end of the road. Such a shame…” 

When it spoke, there was something in the creatures voice that Rainbow found disturbingly familiar. At first, she couldn’t place it, but when she did, it sent a cold shiver down her spine.

The shadow was speaking in Applejack’s voice. It wasn’t perfect, like a decent impersonation, but even muffled, Rainbow could hear imperfections in the monster’s voice; a guttural, raspy quality that ruined the whole façade.

“Where is she?” Rainbow demanded. “If you hurt her…!”

All of a sudden, the shadow was gone. It moved with such lightning fast speed that Rainbow couldn’t spin around fast enough to follow it. Its voice, however, was not so evasive.

“You’ll what? Bravado me to death? Be my guest, sweetie! But I’m afraid you’re a few years too late for that!” the monster laughed derisively at her own joke, giving Rainbow the impression that she was missing something. “I am so close… so very, very close…! So close I…”

Something warm and sharp, like a dozen steak knives, gently caressed the back of Rainbow’s neck.

“…Could almost touch you”, cooed a voice immediately in her ear.

Rainbow inhaled sharply and darted away. She spun around, hooves flying to the back of her neck, but she found nothing. No marks of any sort met her rapidly searching hooves. Likewise, she found nothing in the immediate area around where she’d been—only another derisive laugh.

“Hahaha! Oh this is going splendidly! It won’t be long now, oh no... But, in the meantime, why don’t we play a little game, hmm?”

Rainbow kept turning, but she never caught sight of that dark shape again. It moved all around her, never staying stationary long enough for her to catch another glimpse. It was toying with her.

“Uh, think I’ll pass, thanks,” she rebuffed. “Kinda have better things to do than play around with evil shadow monsters.”

That laugh came again, this time with a more sinister undercurrent. “Oh no, darling. I insist.”

Something hard and cold lashed around Rainbow’s hoof. She looked down, and with a jolt, noticed the broad vine that now knotted itself around her ankle. Far down below, the black tar bubbled and frothed ominously around the base of that very vine.

It got worse when the thick black snare began reeling her in.

Rainbow flapped her wings with all her might, fighting the slow but unstoppable descent into places she really didn’t want to go. Foot by foot, yard by yard, she was dragged down despite her best efforts.

“Get off me!” she shouted, kicking and squirming, but it changed little. And all the while, she was being taunted by that mocking voice.

“Now, now, dear, there’s no need to put up such a fight. You and I are going to get to know each other very well soon enough. But in the meantime, I have a question for you.”

Rainbow kept up her fight, but the vine was wrapped too securely, and it only bent with her whenever she made a course change. She was already halfway down, and slowly the distance was shrinking.

When Rainbow chanced a look down, she felt her skin crawl. The ooze continued to bubble, but the closer she got, the less like bubbles they appeared. In fact, several of them had the disquieted impression of having eyes and ragged fangs.

“Tell me… what do you fear most?” the voice whispered in her ear.

Swinging a hoof in the direction of the voice did nothing; the air was as empty as it apparently ever had been.

Rainbow was so low now that she could hear the bubbles popping and a strange, even more unsettling gurgling from deeper down. And somewhere down there, deeper still, she thought she heard another sound. It was a faint thing, but it resonated somewhere inside her. It brought images to her mind unbidden; faces contorted with disappointment and disgust, voiceless voices grumbling incessantly in ways that made her heart tremble.

Useless…

Failure…

Nothing special…

Disappointing…

Failed…

FAILED!

“No!” Rainbow cried out. She shook her head, trying desperately to clear the voices from it. That was when she realized they weren’t coming from inside her mind, but from some place below the bubbling depths below.

Something warm and wet touched the tip of her hoof. The sensation caused her breath to catch and her eyes, which she hadn’t realized she’d snapped shut, to fly open.

Her gaze full upon the top of the glowing pinnacle. Applejack was up there, alone, frightened. She was failing her… she was…

A black bedroom, lit only by a small candle and the glow of a full moon… A bed, old and saggy from age… A black form bearing a striking amber mane and twin-ringed amber eyes… a look of pure terror at the sight of her…

Applejack was scared of her… Tough, unbeatable Applejack… scared…

But… when she asked, Applejack answered. She let her in, one tentative step at a time. One step at a time… Applejack exposed herself, one hated secret at a time, laid herself bare in all her shame and self-loathing…

She gave Rainbow her secrets. She did not fuss or resist. She entrusted Rainbow with despised aspects of herself she’d told nopony, not even her family. She trusted Rainbow with her darkest, most raw flaws.

And Rainbow, always quick to mock, always quick to tease and needle… listened. She took up those secrets, shouldered them for her weary friend. And she promised, right then and there, without consciously deciding to or not.

She swore, to the very bottom of her heart and back, that she would never, ever, let her feel alone again. No matter the cost, no matter the price.

Never…

“NEVER!” Rainbow roared.

Heat surged up to answer her defiance. It exploded out from inside of her, coursed through ever vein and muscle, and erupted from her body with a defining bellow that shook the walls.

All of a sudden, she was free again. And she was soaring upward like a loosed rocket, so fast she barely even heard the surprised and hateful shriek of the monster behind her. It screamed at her, but she didn’t listen. She was done listening to that thing.

More vines exploded out of the walls, digging their way into the open air and throwing themselves in Rainbow’s path.

Yet, every time one tried to snag her again, it exploded in a cloud of noxious black vapor, no more material than a fleeting dream.

In her chest, something throbbed with a sort of ignited passion, pumping the most exhilarating fire through her veins. Up she shot, chest pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

The walls shook. Crystals tumbled from the ceiling and walls. Vines erupted in truly prodigious numbers. Black tar exploded from cracks and seams in the walls all around her. The pulsating green glow in the formations around her dimmed, as if being drained away.

Rainbow kept her eyes up, on that single point of light above that defied any attempts to snuff it, until, at the very end, it was the only source of light in a pitch black realm.

Rainbow came to a screeching halt, skidding across the surface of a slightly concave shelf of iridescent crystal atop the spire’s pinnacle. In front of her was the pyramid-shaped formation, surrounded on all sides by jutting spokes of innumerable crystal, some as fine as filaments. 

Now that she stood atop it, she noticed that the pyramid was not perfectly shaped. Near its base were a series of overlapping holes, forming an uneven opening on the leading corner jutting in her direction. And inside, Rainbow just caught a glimpse of a black form amid a prison of intensely glowing diamond.

“Applejack!” Rainbow shouted at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed repeatedly off of the walls all around her.

A soft, slow pulsation of light coursed through the intricate structure in front of her and through the plate under her hooves. But no voice rose in response.

Rainbow folded her wings and started forward. In the periphery of her vision, Rainbow could see disturbing writhing shapes encroaching upon this last bastion. Vines and other slimy, tendril-like appendages creeped from the burgeoning shadows, intent on intercepting her.

In the squirming, wriggling dark, that voice came to her again. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you honestly think you still have a chance of saving her? There is nothing left! Nothing! Not of her, not of your friends, not of Equestria, not of ANYTHING! You have failed, pegasus! FAILED!”

Rainbow completely ignored the furious spitting and raving vying for her attention. A vine tried to bar her way, only to disintegrate like a shadow under a beam of light.

As it vanished, Rainbow stepped through the opening in the pyramid and into a realm of blinding, warm light. She glanced back, and noticed the shadows slowing their approach. Not even they could quench the shining light of this place.

Still the voice screamed at her, but now it sounded so very distant, muffled, and unintelligible, as if rising from a place very, very far away. For that matter, the sounds of writhing and wet squirming faded almost entirely. Then, as she watched, the opening shrank behind her, and sealed itself, leaving her in tranquil silence.

Rainbow paused only for a moment, then she turned back around.

She stood inside a triangular chamber whose floor depressed downwards ever so slightly. The roof above soared upward at a steep angle, revealing the pyramid to be completely hollow.

And dominating the far wall, spanning from roof to floor and both corners on either side of Rainbow, was a great clustered geode of inward-facing shafts of crystal. And in its heart, trapped almost bodily, was Applejack.

The crystals pulsed gently with a brilliant light. When it died, Rainbow saw that the crystals were no longer green, but rather palest pink. The closer to Applejack they were, the more distinct the color became.

“Applejack!” Rainbow shouted again.

Again, she didn’t get a response. Applejack’s head hung limp, her eyes closed, body motionless.

It was then that Rainbow was able to appreciate the change that had come over her. Applejack had grown considerably in size; her neck was long and slender, and the horn atop her head was crooked and gnarled. She looked startlingly like Aconita and Chrysalis, the only difference now being the long curtain of shiny amber mane that hung free, catching the light around it.

But Rainbow didn’t pay much attention to the alteration. She zeroed in on Applejack’s strangely peaceful face, and started to approach.

“Hey, bugbrain,” Rainbow said, cocking half a grin. “Been a while, huh? Gosh, it feels like forever…”

Still Applejack did not rouse. As Rainbow approached, she noticed the small, spindly crown laying discarded on the floor below Applejack’s head.

“Oh me?” Rainbow said, putting a hoof to her chest. “doing super, thanks for asking. You would not believe the day I’ve been having. Flew from one end of Equestria and back, no big deal, had a run in with Queen Aconita—long story—had a little chat with a bunch of dead guys… You’re lucky I like you so much, you know that, right?” She chuckled, eventually petering out as the silence crushed down again.

The halfhearted grin on her face fell away. She paused, then continued. Her hooves clicked loudly against the hard glassy floor, echoing strangely off the magically-thrumming crystals.

“This sure is a mess, huh?” she went on, her tone dropping. “We just can’t go two minutes without something blowing up. Well, I can handle that no prob, but you… you don’t deserve any of this.”

She paused again, hoping for a response. But Applejack remained as unconscious as before.

Rainbow took note of the crystals encasing her then, and she noticed that they appeared to be growing, little by little. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but she could swear now that some of the shafts appeared longer and broader than before.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Rainbow promised. “I made a promise, didn’t I? Well here I am, and I’m going to save you. Then… how about you and me just… I don’t know… go someplace far away? Just the two of us. No hive, no politics, no paparazzi. Just us and the horizon, for as long as we want. Sounds awesome, right?”

Another hopeful pause. Another unfilled silence. This time, Rainbow frowned, then said, “Okay… if you say yes, just… do something. Anything!”

Applejack remained motionless as ever. Then, after a stiflingly quiet pause, her eye twitched.

Rainbow saw it, and she froze, suddenly tense. Her wings flashed open when she saw, for the first time, signs of life in her friend.

Applejack winced weakly and gave a faint groan. Her head twitched, and slowly, laboriously, one of her eyes flickered open. She stared at the floor sightlessly as her lips parted.

“Ruh… Rain… bow…”

The relief that crashed over Rainbow nearly made her legs so weak she almost fell to the floor. Before she knew what she was doing, she was laughing fitfully. “Applejack!”

The changeling queen’s long neck weakly rose, and Applejack lifted her head. She stared numbly in Rainbow’s direction, either not quite comprehending her or too weak to express herself. “Muh…Mac…intosh… Hills…” she said weakly.

Rainbow gave her a confused look. “What?”

“Ah… Ah would like ta… ta see them,” Applejack mumbled.

Rainbow’s eyes grew big. Then, she smiled. All of the desperation, worry, anxiety… it all melted away. Suddenly, she felt as light and warm as a sun-kissed feather. “You got it, cowgirl. Now hang on, I’m gonna get you out.”

She couldn’t cross the room fast enough. In fact, Rainbow nearly tripped over her own hooves a number of times in her haste. Her eyes stayed on Applejack as she sprinted as fast as she could.

Rainbow made it halfway to her when she noticed the tremors again.

“NO!”

Screeching to a halt, Rainbow looked up, just as cracks and fissures ripped open in the ceiling. And from those fractures, oily black tendrils burst forth, reaching blindly and fearlessly into the chamber. There were dozens of them, all dripping with that foul-smelling ooze that splattered against the floor.

The light of the chamber began to change before Rainbow’s eyes. The violet light took on a sickly, greenish hue, starting from the periphery of the chamber but slowly creeping inward. In mere seconds, a sinister acidic glow had begun to encroach upon Applejack’s prison.

“You will not take this from me!” the monstrous voice bellowed, somehow even more demonic in quality than ever before. “This game ends NOW, wretched pegasus!”

Applejack suddenly jolted. She let out a pained cry, every muscle in her body tensing. Then, with an even louder shriek, she lurched forward as if yanked from the chest.

And as Rainbow watched, a brilliant green glow burst into being from Applejack’s core. She cried out, louder, and Rainbow could tell she was struggling. The veins on her neck popped out, and her teeth gnashed together. Her eyes screwed shut as she pulled herself back.

“Rain…bow!” she gasped. “Run… run! Ah can’t… Ah can’t… hold… her… AAAGH!”

As her voice ripped from her throat again, something slid soundlessly from her chest. Emerald fire gushed forth, washing over Rainbow with an intense heat.

Then, Applejack fell quiet.

As the light receded, Rainbow saw with a painful jolt that she’d gone limp once more. And floating in front of her, throbbing with an intense glow, hovered a brilliant green crystal. Most of it was spherical in shape, save for one missing hemisphere, leaving a jagged, misshapen hole on its surface.

Applejack’s Corastone throbbed and pulsated with a rhythmic, two-beat tempo so much like a heart. But as Rainbow stared, transfixed, it started to change.

To her horror, the shining light contained within started to darken. With each pulse, it grew weaker and weaker, darker and darker, until not even the tiniest spark remained. All that was left was an inky black darkness.

The pink glow in the chamber was gone. Only an acidic green light dominated, its light glistening off of the countless writhing tendrils undulating along the walls.

Applejack’s Corastone suddenly quivered. It trembled, shaking violently in midair. Then, it somehow grew darker. Not even the green light reflected on it anymore. And as Rainbow watched in mounting horror, that deep black darkness began to drip from its surface. A shadow so dense it billowed like smoke rolled off of it, growing thicker and thicker as Rainbow watched. Soon it condensed, and fell to the floor with a wet, sickening splat.

A thickening discharge of black sludge soon swallowed the Corastone completely. And as it disappeared, the chamber was filled with that horrible monster’s taunting laughter.

Unexpected, the slime billowed. It jerked and sloshed, as if suddenly there was something inside it. Another jerk, and something looking disturbingly like a long limb wrenched itself free of the flowing muck. That limb was followed by another, and another. Then, the vaguest analogy for a head emerged from the tar.

The goo split open, forming a mouth. Coagulated slime jutted up and away, forming some manner of twisted horn. And as the tar began to harden and settle, two silvery vertical slits marked the emergence of a pair of eyes.

The monster lurched, then fell heavily to the floor. It struggled for a moment, attempting to rise with some difficulty. Then, it threw its head back towards the roof, and took a deep, rattling breath.

All the while, Rainbow watched, transfixed by shock and terror. She still hadn’t moved an inch as the monstrous form finally forced itself upright.

Bones audibly creaked and groaned as they bore her weight. As she rose, sludgy ribbons not unlike wings flapped experimentally.

A languid curtain of tar oozed from her head and rear, forming a long, languid cascade that almost reached the floor. As Rainbow watched, the mass on either end of her seemed to solidify, and take on a deep purple hue.

The monster raised its oddly squashed, flat head. Puffy, prominent cheeks gave her face a distinctly viper-like appearance. Twin fangs descended past her lips and just over the edge of her jawline.

As the monster rose, it leered chillingly at Rainbow, lips pulling up over fleshless white bone where gums should have been.

“And so the curtain falls,” she said. “To think an idiot like Applejack could put up this much of a fight for this long. She certainly is her mother’s child; stubborn to the very last.”

She stretched, and rose to her full, towering height. “But let’s put that behind us, shall we? So long as my new hive continues to grow, the power contained here will sustain this form. That leaves me such a dreadfully short time to tie up one last loose end.”

Her smile vanished instantly, replaced instead with a cold glower. “You.”

Rainbow couldn’t speak. She couldn’t find the words. She just stared, first at the monstrous figure, and then inexorably, towards the motionless form of Applejack.

She was still breathing, but only barely. At least, she hoped so.

“Now, now, don’t be rude, dear. Has no one ever told you it’s poor manners to ignore someone when they are speaking to you?”

Rainbow glanced back towards the monster. It’s leer grew, revealing still more of its pointed white fangs. “Come now. Come over here and give your auntie Phantasma a hug.”

Rainbow’s eyes grew huge. That name… she knew that name. She’d heard it spoken only a few times, first by Applejack in a grim manner. Then in reverent, fearful tones by a few drones not too afraid to mention her name.

Rainbow didn’t bother to memorize the names of other changeling queens. But that one… that one, even she knew.

“It… it was you, all along,” Rainbow gasped. “But… how? You’re supposed to be…?”

Phantasma cackled. “Dead? Yes, well, I grew bored of it. Nothing to do, you see. As for how and why, I don’t know, myself. But when little Applejack touched my Corastone and opened herself up to me… well, I couldn’t let that opportunity slip by, now could I?”

She pondered for a moment while she tested her newly formed legs. “Hmm… Now I am curious. Just how did such good fortunes come my way? Oh well, questions for later.”

Her strange, silvery eyes turned meaningfully in Rainbow’s direction. “I seem to recall more pressing business to attend to. After all, I can’t have you ruining my plans, not after coming this far.”

Rainbow glared. Her fear gave way to a simmering anger, and though her legs trembled, the heat in her chest burned with an indignant fury.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got news for you; I’m not going to let you hurt AJ anymore.”

Phantasma scoffed. “Pfft, Applejack is just a tool! I don’t care what happens to her. All that matters to me is the destruction of this bothersome country. Then, and only then, will Carnation’s failure be absolute.”

Again, her sneer vanished. “I’ll make her regret turning on me. She was supposed to pick me. Me! Not some naïve ponies! She was the only one I ever cared about… I was the only one who was ever there for her! And she chose you. Unacceptable. Unacceptable! There is no pit or hell deep enough to keep me from my revenge!”

Phantasma bared her fangs. Her horn crackled with a deadly aura, more smoldering black smoke than green fire. “And I am not about to let some flea-bitten pigeon get in my way!”

She suddenly slashed her horn through the air, unleashing a wave of smoldering green sparks in Rainbow’s direction.

And it might have even been threatening, if Rainbow hadn’t already had her wings open.

With a whistle of wind, Rainbow darted to the side neatly dodging the arc of deadly magic with room to spare. She flew low and fast, skating just inches over the ground as she closed the distance. 

“Oh boo-hoo!” Rainbow snapped, zipping under another blast. “You think just because somepony hurt your feelings, that gives you the right to hurt others? Get real!”

Rainbow shot to the side again, launching over another blast, before closing the distance. “And I am not about to let some ugly nag hurt Applejack anymore!”

She didn’t see the sinister grin until it was too late.

Something crashed into Rainbow from below, knocking the wind out of her. The next thing she knew, she was sailing up towards the ceiling, only to be swatted down again by a thick, surprisingly hard tendril.

Rainbow hit the ground hard, bounced, and slid on her belly backwards, away from her adversary. Lights popped in front of her eyes, and for one dangerous moment, the clawing darkness of unconsciousness loomed along the edge of her sight.

As her sight cleared and refocused, she saw Phantasma sauntering towards her, completely unthreatened.

“You’re out of your league, little pegasus. Do you have any idea how many queens I have killed? How many hives I personally razed to the ground? I ruled an entire race through fear of what I could do. What chance do you think you have?”

Rainbow struggled to rise. She had to rise. But her legs were heavy and uncooperative.

“The wheels of history move at my touch,” Phantasma gloated. “I have altered the course of fate for my people. And what have you done? Made pretty colors in the sky?”

Something hot and unyielding wrapped around Rainbow’s throat. It hefted her into the air, dragging her off her hooves and up to eye level with her unliving adversary.

Phantasma sneered in her face. “In the end, you are nothing more than a weak little pony. A sad, pathetic little failure clinging to the coattails of those better than you, hoping nopony can see through your façade. In the end, all you are good for is a snack.”

The light was fading from Rainbow’s eyes. Cold, dark unconsciousness dragged her down, even as she fought to stave it off.

The green light in Applejack’s chamber was going out. Darkness clawed its way in, dragging thick, tainted tendrils across every surface.

The last thing Rainbow saw as she faded away was Applejack’s barely open eyes turned in her direction, the faintest spark of life twinkling within them, as the darkness swallowed everything.

“In the end, all you are is a failure.”
	
> Chapter 25: You and Me
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
“Thirty two! Thirty three!”

Applejack grinned confidently to herself. Sweat beaded on her freckled face. Her twin pigtails bobbed and bounced  in time with the rest of her body.

Directly across from her, just a foot or two away, a blue pegasus with a wild shock of rainbow mane leered back at her, matching her move for me. Like Applejack, she was pumping her forelegs to push herself up and down, synchronizing every one of her pushups with Applejack’s.

Both were nearly oblivious to the ring of spectators, all young colts and fillies cheering their favorite challenger on excitedly. Amid strident calls of “Go Applejack!” and “Come on, Rainbow Dash!” a louder voice called out from the appointed referee as she announced each successful pushup.

“Thirty five! Thirty six!”

Applejack’s forelegs were starting to burn, the heat of exertion spreading to her shoulders and causing her fur to prickle. But she kept it up, intentionally keeping her own pace down to Rainbow’s level.

She could see that the pegasus was fading. Had she been allowed to use her wings instead, this might—just might—have been a fair contest. But Applejack had known from the outset that this lazy trash-talker could never compete with a hard worker like her in sheer physical stamina.

But that same pegasus kept right on going, even as her legs started to wobble and she started to jerk with her head to get her back up. The grin on Rainbow’s face was slipping as it started to dawn on her that Applejack wasn’t wearing down.

And then Applejack did something that made the audience gasp. In one deft move, she popped herself up just an inch, freed up her hooves, and placed one behind her back. When she landed, it was only one her left foreleg.

It was worth it just to see Rainbow’s eyes bug out of her head. The look of dumbfounded astonishment as Applejack carried on with a smug grin, balancing herself on just three hooves while using only one to push herself up and down.

“Oh my, Dash, yer lookin’ a might bit tuckered out.” Applejack taunted. “Ah wouldn’t want ya ta strain somethin’.”

It was remarkable how blue fur could turn so spectacularly red with indignant fury. “Oh yeah?” Rainbow snarled, teeth grinding, sweat pouring off of her.

Applejack had every confidence that this little challenge was over. Rainbow was overzealous with all of these competitions, sure, but she’d really dug her own grave this time. She expected that, at any second, Rainbow was going to collapse and concede defeat at last.

She wasnot expecting Rainbow to mimic her.

With a growl, Rainbow actually forced one stiff hoof behind her back, exactly like Applejack. She was red in the face, a vein was popping out in her neck, and she looked in imminent danger of blowing something internally.

Even the referee forgot to keep track of their progress at this point.

“Who’s… laughing… now?!” Rainbow bellowed. And then, to prove her point, she started to laugh between each grueling heave on her own, abused foreleg. “Ha… ha… ha!”

And in the next second, she was down. She collapsed with a pained yelp and fell face first in the dirt.

The crowd stood in stunned silence. Then, the schoolyard erupted with cheering and applause.

Applejack heard none of it. She stared down at this infuriating, irritating pegasus, at a complete loss for words. Rainbow writhed on the ground, hissing in pain, but she glared up at Applejack, never once breaking eye contact.

She didn’t care that she’d hurt herself. She didn’t care that some ponies would say she’d lost—she’d find an excuse to refute them, as always. In that moment, all that mattered to Rainbow, Applejack saw, was that she’d never admitted defeat.


~~***~~


A whisper of sound.

A clammy coldness.

Through the haze clouding Rainbow’s mind, these things came to her, originating somewhere distant, somewhere physical. She had no sense of direction. She couldn’t tell what was up, what was down, whether she was moving or still. She was simply… there. And it was so cold…

She didn’t hurt. She didn’t feel much of anything; only enough sensation to give her a presence, but little else.

Rainbow forced open one of her eyes. It took so much effort, like she was trying to bend iron. But beyond her lids, she saw nothing comprehensible. Swirling darkness, maddening and furtive motion, but nothing her mind could make sense of.

In the back of her mind, she felt a dire sense of distress, but the thought was nothing but far away noise. There was something incredibly important she had to do, but she couldn’t recall fully what it was.

The coldness was clawing at her. She could feel it drilling into her, sapping her body of everything it had. This, she knew, was bad, but she couldn’t focus on why.

Distant sounds… a faint laugh… some twinkle resembling light that she instinctively wanted to shy away from… And the mounting cold…

This wasn’t right. The realization wormed its way through the fog in her half-unconscious brain. The urgency was rising again. The omen of the building cold grew in importance. And it all came back to a single, driving imperative deep down inside her.

But before she could grab ahold of the fleeting thought, the dregs of her consciousness collapsed again into dream-like nothingness.


~~***~~


Rainbow had braced, but the harsh impact of face-on-dirt committed at nearly terminal velocity still left her nose stinging terribly. By the time the dust settled and her head stopped spinning, she was able to marshal her senses again.

With a groan, Rainbow heaved herself up out of the rather impressive trench she’d just carved across a grassy meadow, mostly with her face. She glared at it, and with a frustrated cry, she kicked a loose clump of dirt, sending it spiraling a few feet away.

“Argh! I should’ve had it that time! Three barrel rolls into a Hemisphere Helix! What’s so complicated about that, wings?”

She sat down hard, and put a dirty hoof to her bruised and painfully throbbing nose. The pain was starting to hit her now. But she didn’t cry, no sir! Crying was for babies. The kicked up dirt was really irritating her eyes, though.

“Ugh, forget it. Who cares about some stupid talent show any—”

A distant shout made her shut up and look up while still clutching her nose. She’d thought she was in the middle of nowhere, so that she could practice in peace.

But the shape breaking the distant tree line proved her wrong. Worse, it was the last pony she wanted to see. Yet try as she might, that blonde, pig-tailed mane was not changing.

“Great,” Rainbow grumbled testily to herself. “As if this stupid day couldn’t get any worse…”

A minute later, a breathless Applejack slowed to a halt. Panting, worry in her eyes, she looked from one end of the deep trench to the other, then back to Rainbow. “What in tarnation happened here?”

“Nothing,” Rainbow rebuffed immediately. It was ruined somewhat by her unexpectedly nasally voice, courtesy of her hooves plugging up her nose.

“This ain’t nothin’,” Applejack pointed out, and she gave Rainbow that look she hated most; a skeptical sort of incredulity. Every time she gave Rainbow that look, it was because she’d done something Applejack thought was dumb.

“Well it is!” Rainbow snapped back. “It’s also none of your business. Don’t you have some trees to buck or something?”

Applejack blinked at her, nonplussed. “Uh… sure do,” she commented, then pointed over her shoulder back the way she’d come—towards the tree stand of apple trees flanking the field.

Rainbow stared at it for a moment, the gears of her mind slow to turn. “…Oh.” Apparently Sweet Apple Acres was a lot bigger than Rainbow had given it credit for.

Applejack was still giving her that worried look that annoyed Rainbow, but she avoided it rather than deal with it.

“Are ya sure yer alright?”

Rainbow glowered at her. “I’m fine! You should be more worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow at school after I show you up in front of everypony!”

Applejack blinked. “Uh… yer gonna be doin’ field plowin’ at the talent show? Cuz Big Mac did that one year and it didn’t go over too well, what with him tearin’ up the school yard and all.”

“Wha—no! Just you wait and see, AJ! I’m gonna steal the show, like always! Then you’re gonna eat pears for a WEEK after I win our bet!”

There was the trace of annoyance Rainbow relished. Applejack always hid it well, but when Rainbow saw it, she knew she was pressing all the right buttons. “Just you wait and see, cowgirl! I’m gonna finally prove which of us is better!”

Applejack frowned slightly. She was quiet for a moment, then she said, “Whatever ya say, RD. Just… don’t hurt yerself, ya hear? Ya worry me when ya get like this.”

With that, she turned and galloped away, back towards the orchards. She left Rainbow sitting in the grass, feeling oddly stupid. She blinked, not even close to understanding Applejack.

Applejack? Worry about her? That wasn’t what rivals did.

Right?


~~***~~


Again, Rainbow found herself emerging from dreams into a barely conscious haze. Only, this time the fog in her head wasn’t as dense.

She still had no sense of where she was, but now she felt acutely the cold settling in her body. Little by little, starting from her hooves and working inward, towards her chest…

Again she heard that laugh, and… a voice so distant it was almost lost to her. But the sound of it awakened something inside of her; a fear, and that building urgency. A flash ran across her mind’s eye; a snake-like face, black eyes with silvery slits, like the reflections of a predator’s eyes in the moonlight. Purple mane, a body of ooze… that taunting laugh…

But instead of lingering on that frightening aspect, her mind immediately shifted to something else, tugged along quickly by that insistent pull.

Instead, she saw a different face conjured before her mind’s eye; an orange, freckled face grinning in that annoying, self-confident way Rainbow loathed. A flash of green eyes, a smooth, twanging voice. A gentle pressure pushing into her shoulder, seeking her support…


~~***~~


Rain patted tirelessly against a lone window in a small, rustic bedroom. Outside, the world was gray-washed and dreary, without a soul in sight. Just the swaying trees trembled in a cold wind.

Aside from the droning rain, there was just one other sound; a faint, barely restrained sniffle, which came and went without notice. It came from the only bed in the room, and the tiny lump curled up under the apple-patterned comforter. 

A blonde length of mane hair stuck out from under the pillow. It was the only indication of who laid there. The small form shivered and shook, sniffling and sobbing quietly to itself.

A voice suddenly rose in the quiet. A stallion spoke softly in an adjacent room, keeping his voice down. Even so, his voice carried well in the old house.

“I’m sorry, Granny Smith. I’ve tried everything I can, but I can’t explain it. The shock of her loss… it’s left her heartbroken. Until it passes, all we can do is be there for her…”

The voice faded away, leaving the filly to sniffle in silence.

A knock sounded on the window.

On the bed, the little form flinched, but did not emerge. It became as still as a statue, and just as silent. She did not look around, even as a muffled voice called out through the glass.

“AJ? You in there?”

At the sound of that voice, the filly curled herself up tighter. Why did it have to be her, of all ponies? She tried to ignore her, hoping maybe she’d just go away. But another tap sounded, and this time, a single green eye peeked out from the safety of an apple-patterned comforter.

There, squinting through the glass into the bedroom, was a scrawny rainbow-maned mare somewhere in her early teens. The filly scanned the room, cupping her hooves around her eyes to get a better view. Her rainbow-colored mane was languid and heavy with rain water, and rivulets continued to dribble down her face as the rainstorm pelted her mercilessly.

Finally, filly Rainbow Dash spotted the shape on the bed. She tapped on the glass again, a worried look on her face. “Anypony home?”

She didn’t notice the eye looking at her. But she did notice the slight motion when an orange head tucked itself under the pillow again.

Rainbow Dash frowned, then reached down and gripped the window. She pulled, failing twice to budge it, then finally managed to get the old thing unstuck and opened it on her third attempt.

She burst in and shook herself like a dog, spraying cold rain water in every direction. “AJ?” Rainbow tried again. Still no response came, but the shape shrank, as if curling itself up tighter.

Rainbow frowned. Not in anger or impatience, but in genuine worry. “You, uh… you didn’t come to school. Like, for a week. I was… supposed to show you up at the talent show… remember?”

The shape didn’t move or speak or make a sound at all. Rainbow looked down, and noticed the untouched platter of apple pancakes and apple slices—Applejack’s breakfast—lying on the ground next to the head of the bed.

“Applejack?” The filly squeaked, her voice small now. There was a dreadful heaviness in the air that hinted at something she didn’t understand and was afraid of understanding. “Is… is something wrong? Cuz-cuz if something is, y-you can tell me. I’m, uh, you’re rival and all. So, um…”

At last, the miserable figure under the blankets shifted. It squirmed slightly, and lifted its small head to look over at Rainbow.

The face she saw… it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Applejack—the tough, unbreakable, unstoppable Applejack she admired and hated in equal measure—stared at her with red, puffy eyes and deep, crusty tear tracks running down her face. She had been crying for hours, if not days, and the ravages of that experience had drained her fiery confidence to nothing. It was a face of a broken pony, shattered, that looked at her now, somehow gaunt without having lost any weight.

Rainbow would never know why she did what she did. Normally, she would’ve berated Applejack for being such a crybaby. She would have taunted her arch-nemesis and reveled in this moment of weakness.

But she didn’t.

What she did instead was wordlessly trot up to her and give that weeping, broken pony the biggest hug she could possibly give her. Rainbow squeezed her for all she was worth, hooves and wings. 

Later, she would rationalize it to herself. She would explain it away as sympathy; that pony she’d seen had not been her Applejack, and she hadn’t liked that. A broken, wounded Applejack was not her Applejack, the pony who had punted her through a wall upon their first meeting, who had defied her every attempt to defeat her. Whatever this thing was, it was wrong and needed to be fixed.

Rainbow would stay on that bed, hugging wordlessly for hours and hours until her parents came, worried sick by her disappearance. Even then, they had to fight to drag her away from her. And Rainbow would never forget how Applejack tried to feebly hang on to her, as well, before they were ultimately ripped apart by infinitely stronger adult ponies and dragged away.

Rainbow would always remember that time. The time Applejack lost her parents. It would be weeks, if not months, before the third oldest Apple left in Ponyville regained her strength and emerged from her home. And when she returned to the school she and Rainbow went to, neither of them would say a word about what happened between them, but it would be a very, very long time before things seemed normal between them. Things between them never would go back to exactly the way they were.

It was that time, during one of the most tragic and horrible moments in Rainbow’s and Applejack’s lives, that everything changed.


~~***~~


In the depths of a shadow-choked crystal chamber, Queen Phantasma took a moment for herself. Striding through the writhing darkness, she couldn’t help but start to feel giddy. She couldn’t believe how easy this had all been! Everything could not have worked out any more perfect than it already had.

All throughout her new throne room, the glowing pink tendrils of love from countless ponies circulated, so thick they were tangible. Their ethereal light gave shape to the choking mass of oily tendrils clogging the crystal chamber. So much, from such a small location… It was no wonder Carnation had been so intent on keeping this country to herself.

As she drank heartily from the flowing energies, Phantasma caught glimpses of the ponies they belonged to, and where they stemmed from. None, of course, amused her more than the essences of four mighty alicorns. They had been her greatest worry; what memories she’d gleaned from Applejack had been enough to realize a confrontation with all four would have been… less than ideal. But now here they all were, trapped in her expanding web of influence.

For fun, Phantasma waved a hoof, a sinister light flickering across her horn. From the darkness, an opening appeared, and within it, a window looking out across a weed and briar-choked hillside.

Amid growing black vines and thorny bramble patches, armored stallions stood about, shouting angrily at one another. Some had completely devolved into bare-hooved fistfights. And atop the hill, a Captain of the Guard and a Princess of the Sun stood nose to nose, glaring at one another.

Phantasma practically squealed in delight at the sight of her biggest threat too lost to anger to ever oppose her. And without her magic, Princess Celestia was just a pretty little pony standing on her doorstep.

“It won’t be long now,” Phantasma giggled to herself. She looked down out her oily hoof, and noted how firm and uniform her pseudo-flesh had become. “Soon enough, everything Carnation betrayed me for will be nothing more than a memory. Her sacrifice will have been for absolutely nothing.”

She glanced back towards the image, grinning ear to ear, then paused at an unnoticed curiosity. “Hmm,” she hummed, cocking her head to one side. “Now where did little Twilight Sparkle get off to?”

Then she chuckled and raised a hoof. As bidden, a ribbon of love energy snaked its way towards her, and wound around her hoof. “Well, no matter. She hasn’t gone far. Soon enough she will be just as helpless as the rest of them, too given to her grievances to oppose me.”

She turned then, and through the darkness her eyes fell upon the limp figure of Applejack, still embedded deep in a wall of black, tainted crystals.

“And I have you to thank for it, my dear. Such delicious irony that the daughter of Carnation will be the tool I use to smash her every dream to pieces.”

She sauntered over towards Applejack, and raised a hoof to touch her cheek. “It really is a shame. Such untapped potential… I could have used someone like you. The Changeling Court isn’t going to put itself back into order. But then… your mother did have to go and kill me. So I will just have to hope she’s watching what I will do to you, instead.”

As Phantasma dragged her hoof down Applejack’s cheek, she noticed the black, slimy streak it left behind. Her expression soured, and she stalked away.

“But until I no longer need you, you’ll being staying right there,” she drawled. “Once I’ve collected enough energy to no longer need this place to sustain myself, then you will get what’s coming to you.”

As she trotted away, her eyes fell on the other pony in the room; a limp pegasus hanging from a dozen tendrils. Pink light poured from her, radiating in every direction. But Phantasma could tell there wasn’t as much as before.

The sight of Rainbow’s pallid features brought a cruel grin to Phantasma’s face. “This one, on the other hoof, is just one last loose end in need of tying.”

Yes, things could not have gone any better today.

Phantasma took a moment to relish her victory. She would have plenty of time to figure out the limits of this strange new body, an intriguing prospect that filled her with malicious glee. 

She turned back to the motionless form of Rainbow Dash. She’d lost almost all the color in her face, and her breathing was shallow. The love energies seeping from her had grown fainter just in that small span of time, and would soon gutter out completely.

“A pity,” Phantasma said to herself. “It’s more fun watching them waste away while they’re awake. Oh well; beggars can’t be choosers!”

She began to open her mouth, when something unexpected caught her attention. Out of nowhere, she felt something touch her. Not physically, but rather magically. It was an indescribable, yet very familiar sensation.

And it happened again, repeatedly. The same feeling of faint static washing over her mind hit her over and over, in rapid succession, too many times to be caused by a single source.

Phantasma turned, and with another wave of her hoof, conjured up her looking glass again. “What in the world…?” she muttered to herself.

And as the image solidified, Phantasma’s eyes fell open wide.


~~***~~


Over the angry shouts and clatter of combat, a welling drone blanketed the night air. 

Those with some sensibilities left turned towards the sky, some sense of recognition falling over them. Some turned, confused and a little wary, just before a the starry sky was blotted out by hundreds upon hundreds of changelings.

They moved like a howling blizzard, whirling and whizzing in a chaos of wings and blue eyes and black bodies that was dizzying to watch. And they moved with terrifying speed and purpose, never once deviating from their chosen course.

None of them made a noise or said a word. They all stared unblinkingly at their destination; the towering black formation dominating the horizon.


~~***~~


Phantasma stared in disbelief at the swarm bearing down on her. Then, she broke into great peals of laughter. “Is-is this what Twilight was up to? She released the swarm? That is her trump card? Pahaha!”

As her laughter died, a sinister grin spread across her face. “Applejack’s Corastone feeds me! I am as much their master as she ever was! Oh you fool, Twilight! You’ve just given me an army!”

As the swarm approached, it began to fan out. It spread in every direction, and approached from all angles, forming a living wall between the growing hive and the outside world.

“That’s it,” Phantasma cackled. “Come to your queen. All of you know me. All of you once bent your knee to me! You will be my new hive! And with you, nothing will stand in my—”

“Don’t give up!”

Phantasma paused midsentence, her mouth hanging open for a moment. When she closed it, she aimed her looking glass in the direction of that magically carried voice.

The source had come from a tiny drone—likely a hatchling only a few years old. She’d cupped her hooves over her muzzle and was shouting for all her little lungs were worth.

“You can do it! Don’t give up!”

Phantasma raised an eyebrow. “What is the meaning of this?” She raised her hoof and pointed it at the droneling, and bore down on her with all her force of will. “What are you babbling about?” she demanded, her voice bellowing throughout the cold air outside. “Speak!”

Any drone should have immediately capitulated. She’d seen even the strongest-willed drones collapse into perfect submission under the weight of her presence, and she’d had plenty of practice throwing her authority around.

But to her complete astonishment, this tiny little drone barely shivered. “If you’re the one who’s hurting Queen Applejack, you’d better knock it off, or else Rainbow is gonna get mad and beat you up!”

Phantasma’s jaw actually hit the floor. This… this mere drone had the unbridled audacity to speak to her, the Queen of Queens like that? How was such a thing possible? Every single drone should be bending to her will without even the slightest hint of resistance!

As she reeled in complete shock, more voices filtered through the looking glass, each and every one of them berating her.

“Leave Applejack alone!”

“Don’t give up! Keep fighting! Don’t let her win!”

“We believe in you! You can beat her!”

Phantasma’s lip began to curl. Her glee had long since been replaced with boiling rage. “You dare defy me? You DARE choose her over me?!”

Her horn erupted with a dark, seething light. Her veil of smoldering umbral magic fed out into the crystals all around her, pouring her dark influence into the fledgling hive.

Outside, vast limbs of green-black smoke phased into being, rising from the black and lifeless crystal spires. The ends of those tendrils split open, revealing countless hungering maws ready to snap up drones by the mouthful.

“If you will not obey me,” Phantasma growled, “then I have no use for any of you.”

The conjured serpentine monsters lunged, and the swarm broke apart. But they didn’t run. Again Phantasma found herself staring with no small amount of amazement as several drones circled around, and fired bolts of acidic magic at her creations. Some of those bolts collided with enough force to knock the snapping jaws back, and into one another.

She turned away, eyes wide with uncomprehending fury and confusion. “This is impossible. How are they doing this?! Applejack belongs to me! Is she not their queen?!”

And as she stood there, gnashing her teeth, her eyes fell on the only other possibility. And as her eyes fell on her, a renewed chant assaulted her ears from beyond her throne room, carried over the sounds of howling monstrosities and exploding spells.

“Keep fighting, Rainbow! Don’t give up!”

“You can save her, Rainbow! We know you can!”

“No,” Phantasma breathed, her eyes fixated on the limp form of Rainbow Dash. “It can’t be. Drones… they can’t imprint on ponies! It’s not possible!”

And yet, through the maddening confusion, it was the only possibility that presented itself. But how? How could a changeling of any sort imprint upon a mere pony? The thought was ludicrous, impossible! It took changeling magic to bind a hive to a queen. Then how…?

Thump…

As Phantasma watched, something glowed for just a moment deep within Rainbow’s chest. For just a fraction of a second she saw it, but there was no denying that faint, green glow.

She could feel it now, deep inside that pegasus. Intermingled amongst that detestable pony magic, something else burned against her mind.

Changeling magic.


~~***~~


Rainbow sat in darkness upon a stool. The unfamiliar scents and sounds of a dilapidated cottage surrounded her, but she could barely concentrate on it.

She watched quietly, helplessly, as Big Macintosh wound bandages around the forelegs of a lifeless black figure. The scent of burnt chitin still clung to her nostrils and the roof of her mouth, haunting her.

With a final grunt, Big Mac stepped back. As he did, he revealed the alien figure lying in the bed in front of Rainbow; a black face wreathed by a familiar mane.

“That’ll do’er fer now,” Big Mac said somberly. “Now we wait.”

Rainbow turned back towards the big stallion, shifting uncomfortably on her seat. “And you’re sure she just needs to rest?”

Big Mac turned towards her, and offered a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Eeyup.”

He then turned and ambled from the room. But as he passed, he put an unexpected hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. Rainbow turned a little, but didn’t muster up the courage to look him in the eye. And after a moment, Big Mac trundled away into the next room, leaving Rainbow alone—alone and very confused.

In the total silence, the only sound she heard was the thin, raspy breaths of the one on the bed. For what felt like an eternity, Rainbow looked at her, not quite comprehending… but afraid not to. Because of this wasn’t Applejack… who was it?

For minutes, maybe hours, she sat there, lost in her own turmoil. As the silence threatened to drag on forever, Rainbow suddenly realized she had her hooves wrapped tightly around her chest. Deliberately, she forced her hooves down.

And as her hooves touched her knees, her voice escaped her lips.

“Come back…”

Rainbow bowed her head. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’re not here to explain it, what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to make this right? What… just what am I supposed to do, AJ?”

She reached out, and set her hooves gingerly against the bed, just a breadth away from its occupant. “So… Come back to me… Okay? Just… come back to me already.”

She sat there, head bowed, feeling cracked and exposed. Something wet and salty dripped onto her knee, but she ignored it.

“This… this is worse than not knowing,” she breathed to herself.

Suddenly, a deep breath caught her attention. She looked up, just as an amber, twin ringed eye split open.


~~***~~


The shadows were evaporating.

Phantasma looked on in absolute disbelief as Rainbow Dash started to glow. The wispy tendril of pink light had suddenly erupted into a torrent of energy that washed across the room, slicing the darkness to ribbons.

Her entire body coursed with light. Not the warm luminance of love energies, or even the caustic glow of changeling magic. This was something else, something different, and its very presence seared Phantasma.

“What is this magic?” Phantasma gasped, recoiling as her hide began to steam. She took one step back, and suddenly felt something yank forward inside of her.

She lurched as her chest bulged outward. She stared down, eyes wide in shock. The black tar encompassing her body eroded away, little by little, until she saw the source of that pulling sensation; a jet black stone heaving for all it was worth in Rainbow’s direction.

Applejack’s Corastone flickered with life. Strands of feeble green light glimmered like faint sparks just beneath the surface. It was physically tugging Phantasma across the floor, defying her scrabbling hooves.

The closer she got, the more her form dissolved under the relentless waves of magic washing over her. And the closer she got, the brighter the light in the Corastone became.

Finally, Phantasma managed to dig her heels in and stand her ground. “No!” She howled, wrestling with the unrelenting force pulling her forward. “I… will not…!”

Her horn glowed, more shadow than light against the shining force coursing all around her. With all of her considerable strength, she reached down, black tendrils of magic wrapping covetously around the Corastone.

The Corastone burned brighter, igniting with intense green light. And then, it began to warp.

Phantasma could only watch as the perfect sphere became an oval. It strained against her, burning her as she fought to resist. The pounding inside of her reached a fever pitch, unrestrained energies coursing through her every limb. Then, the Corastone cracked.

It tugged, then cracked. Tugged harder, cracked more. Soon, a spider web of fractures covered its surface.

By now its leading end was almost conical in shape, so greatly had it deformed. It continued to stretch, splintering and fracturing, right before Phantasma’s eyes.

In pure desperation, she rounded on the source of her predicament; Rainbow Dash. With a furious howl, her horn burned darker still, and a hundred black shards burst forth, all bound for the glowing pegasus with lethal intent.

They made it halfway across the room when, with an almighty bang, the Corastone shattered like an egg. Phantasma let out a scream of mingle defiance, shock and rage as her form collapsed, her body reduced to nothing more than a puddle on the floor, and her last ditch attack vaporized in midflight. 

Out of the superheated husk shot a tear-drop-shaped lump of green-hot rock shining so brightly it hurt to look directly at. It streaked across the room like a comet, headed straight for the shining form of Rainbow Dash with almost desperate haste.

As it approached, Rainbow’s chest glowed brighter still. And with an answering shimmer, a prismatic stone emerged from her as easily as a pebble through water. Then, with the suddenness of a gunshot, it took off.

It zipped around the room like a loosed arrow, seeming to revel of speed and motion with reckless abandon. It left a streak of countless colors in its wake as it zipped this way and that, annihilating oily feelers as easily as light banishes shadow.

But despite its apparent wanderlust, the object did not venture far. It was drawn in on a rapidly shrinking circuit around its partner. Both whirled around the room in a blinding dance, orbits rapidly decaying, until the two met with the force of a pair of cannonballs colliding midair.


~~***~~


A million visions flooded her mind. Visions of teasing, taunting, playing… sneers, smug looks, respect… 

A vision of a better time, high atop a cloud, what must have been a thousand years ago. A setting sun, dying the sky pink and clouds fiery red. And her, sitting next to her. The smooth texture of her chitin, so soft and warm… the gentle motion of her amber mane… and a gentle smile, free of the weight of responsibility and stress for the first time in months…

The warm, soft fur brushing her side. The feel of sun-kissed feathers tickling her chitin… A presence so unmistakable she didn’t even have to look at who it was to know…

An eye glanced in her direction. Twin-ringed amber eyes flicked in a number of tiny micro-movements before her fanged smile grew bigger, almost teasing. A comment about staring, which Rainbow wasn’t really paying attention to…

A pair of purple eyes staring at her, filled with that cocky, confident fire she both hated and admired, though now it seemed tempered—smoldering peacefully instead of blazing riotously. She abruptly looked away, drawing a chuckle from Applejack…

And a feeling in her heart. A feeling of total contentment. This was how it should be. This was what she wanted.

For Rainbow, this was the way things were supposed to be. For Applejack, it was the way she wanted it, with all her heart.

And for a moment, always too fleeting of one, their hearts sang in unison as the world passed them by for once…


~~***~~


Seams fused together. The two halves became one individual heart-shaped crystal filled with swirls of green and bands of rainbow-colored light, the two colors blending together like mingling dyes. The pounding reached a rapid, feverish tempo. And with each passing second, the light shining from within underwent one final change.

The flames calmed as the acidic green within the heart-shaped stone grew brighter, and brighter, before morphing into a dazzling shade of bright pink.

All at once, the furious pounding stopped. The revolving stopped. Everything, for one instant, stopped. And then, with the suddenness of a lightning strike, the newly formed Crystal Heart detonated in a blinding nova of unleashed energy.


~~***~~


“For another thing!” Twilight shouted furiously, “Would it kill you to maybe, I don’t know, tell me things?! We could’ve avoided the entire Nightmare Moon thing if you’d just, for once in your life, talked to—”

BOOM!

A loud argument was nothing compared to the deafening report of a magical blast wave. Everypony felt it rip across the basin and ridgeline, temporarily cutting off heated arguments, some of which had turned quite violent.

Everypony turned towards the jet black monolith darkening the night sky, some looking on with fright, others with indignation.

“Oh what now?” Twilight groaned.

For a moment, she didn’t get an answer. Then, a tremor ran through the ground. It was like the thud of a massive footfall, striking only momentarily before dissipating. Then it happened again, harder this time, and again.

Twilight looked on suspiciously as a glow manifested atop the towering crystal formation. A faint emerald light grew, rising in brightness until it dominated the top-most spires. The glow started to spread, throwing back the dead blackness. And then, as the green light began to fill every spire and spike, a new color chased it down from the top.

A brilliant pink hue began to seep down, brighter than all others before it. It cast long, bold shadows from the trees and ponies gathered nearby, reaching far beyond and into Ponyville’s empty streets and interrupting a fiery argument between a fashionista, a pegasus and a party pony down one particular back alley. On the outskirts of a wooded district, two princesses paused in their disagreement to turn towards the intrusive lights, while an army of drones shielded their eyes and braced themselves.

Shafts of light lit up the heavens, stirring ponies from their sleep for miles around as the blinding light found them. Ponies in Canterlot stopped in the streets and pointed toward the distant light shining ever brighter. In the Everfree, a hormonal Balaur lifted its five heads to eye the skies suspiciously.

So bright was the light that Twilight shielded her eyes with a hoof. As she did, through squinted eyes, she saw a peculiar change that made her forget her suspicions.

The radiant pink light was morphing in color, its hue changing with every passing second. Again it trickled down from the crystal formation’s pinnacle filling out the rest of the structure as it descended. By the time it reached the base, it had dissolved into a thousand different hues, some without names or descriptions.

The pinnacle of the spire turned brighter and brighter, energy crackling up and down the entire structure. In a matter of seconds it was replaced entirely with an even brighter nova of countless colors. It was so bright, so intense, that it seemed almost corporeal, taking the form of a shimmering aurora radiating from every crystalline surface.

The irrational anger inside Twilight ebbed, giving way to stunned awe. She could feel the intense waves of power rippling off of the structure before her, washing over the land and seeping deep into the earth.

The foul thorny vines started to shine and wriggle in the ground, before tearing themselves free. Some were as massive as telephone poles, some as spindly as creeper vines. But all ripped themselves from the earth and turned towards the heavens, forming straight pillars.

Before she could even process the implications of those waves, she felt the soft embrace of a wing pull her against another’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia said over the rising chorus of gasps and cries.

Twilight sighed and leaned against her mentor’s leg. “Yeah… me too.”

Everypony watched as, with an echoing rushing sound, the crystalline structure started to splinter, then fall apart. Spire by spire, plate by plate, it broke apart into hundreds upon hundreds of cascading chunks, which all came tumbling down with thunderous crashes.

And as the artificial sunrise faded, all eyes fell upon the thin, upright spire tucked within the structure’s innermost heart, now laid bare for all to see. It was upon the summit of that spire that the fading light retreated to, deep within a hollowed out pyramid, inside a crystal chamber of now fiery violet light.


~~***~~


The light was dimming now. Within the chamber, every wall and surface hummed with gentle light that chased away the darkness. Not a single tendril or drop of tar remained. All along the periphery of the chamber, where the slanted pyramid met the floor, gaps and holes had opened up in irregular but overlapping patterns, allowing the cool night air to filter in from all sides.

And within the center of the chamber, a great wall of countless filaments and shafts was collapsing. With the sound of a thousand panes of glass smashing against the ground, they tumbled to the floor in a cacophonous cascade.

This was the scene Rainbow’s senses opened up onto as she stirred weakly.

The first thing she became acutely aware of was that, no, she was not actually dead. Probably. She felt lighter than air. Almost… ethereal. So for a long time, she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or not.

The second thing she noticed was that somepony had their hooves around her.

In her ear, a voice whispered. “Say somethin’… please…”

Rainbow licked her lips. It took a lot just to get her mouth open. “Muh… maybe… maybe after… a few naps…”

She’d never heard so much relief put into a single huff of air before. “Ah thought Ah lost ya.”

Rainbow looked up towards the ceiling. The lights shimmered and danced, blurring incomprehensibly in front of her eyes. “Is… is this… real? Oh ponyfeathers, don’t say… I’m dead.”

The one holding her up chuckled in her ear. “Nope. Not yet, sugarcube.”

That word… that last word. It triggered something inside Rainbow. Suddenly, the blurriness in her eyes seemed to sharpen, as something hard and unusually warm and flat came up to catch her. It took her quite some time to realize that that thing was actually the floor.

As she came to a rest on the ground, something brushed against her cheek. It was firm and warm, like a muzzle. And that simple touch seemed to pour liquid fire into Rainbow, bringing her senses back to life.

Her vision was blurry. She felt so faint… so weak… like a chunk of deathly cold permafrost had formed inside of her. But as the comforting warmth stole through her body, melting the lifeless cold, her eyes focused, and she couldn’t help but gasp.

The most beautiful creature she’d ever seen stood over her, head held low over her. A sleek, slate black body. Slender, graceful legs without even the smallest trace of a hole. A flowing mane of amber hair that shimmered and shined like polished gold. Big, twin-ringed amber eyes encapsulating perfectly round pupils. A smile devoid of fangs. And a long, elegantly curved horn with only a single crook slightly above the base…

An amber shell upon her back stood open, allowing her to spread large, translucent wings that shimmered in the light. Sometimes, they appeared to have a red sheen. At other times, they glinted green. At still others, they had a blue tinge. All colors of the rainbow were represented, and though they moved clumsily, the strength in those broad, beetle-like wings was evident.

Rainbow blinked up at the smiling face looking down at her, her eyes huge. And then, she fell flat on the ground with a heavy groan. “Dang it… I knew I was dead.”

“Uh… Why?”

Rainbow put a hoof over her eyes. “Why else would an angel be here?”

She didn’t have to look at Applejack to feel her roll her eyes at her. “C’mon now, enough of that,” she said, sounding both exasperated and a little relieved. “Y’all can save yer flattery fer when we get home.”

Rainbow removed her hoof and looked at the figure standing over her. It sure looked like Applejack. Sounded like her, too. But there was something almost supernatural about her. She seemed to shine; her mane and tail were too bright to just be reflecting the glow of the chamber. And there was this feeling around her—literally around her. Just by being close to Applejack, Rainbow felt something akin to static tickling her fur and skin. It was like there was some thin layer of compressed pressure wrapping around her. Rainbow had never felt anything like it, but when she felt it pass over her, her muscles automatically relaxed and her senses calmed.

“Can ya move?” Applejack asked.

Rainbow grunted, shaking herself back to reality. She rolled over and tried to pick herself up, but her legs felt as weak as jello. 

Applejack saw it, and put a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s alright. Ain’t no rush. Just stay there a spell till ya feel better.” The hoof disappeared after a moment, and Rainbow could’ve sworn the air around her felt ten degrees colder. “Ah’ll be right back.”

Rainbow turned to look questioningly at her as Applejack stepped over her and took several long, elegant strides away from her. Before Rainbow could ask what was going on, however, a raspy hiss rose to fill the room.

Rainbow struggled to lift her head in the direction of that ominous sound. Considering the day she’d been having, she didn’t have to wonder if it was a bad sign.

The lifeless shards of Applejack Corastone’s shell were trembling amid a building pool of black tar not far away. They had scattered all across the room, but now they were sliding and rolling back towards a central point, all of their own accord.

“No… not this time… I… refuse…”

The ooze swelled, spreading across the ground until it had amassed enough to lurch upward.

“I… will never fade… I will never be… forgotten…”

A misshapen, five-jointed limp pulled itself haphazardly from the muck, followed by a nine-jointed one from a bizarre angle. More appendages took shape, each more horrific and abstract than the last.

“You cannot stop me…! I will have my revenge! One way… or another!”

Phantasma pulled herself off the ground in a lurching, haphazard series of motions, struggling to coordinate her mass of disjointed limbs. Gone was her tall, pony-like façade. Now all that was left was an amalgamation of body parts without any sane comparison. Compared to it, her previous equine form had been beautiful beyond compare.

Her head, if it could be called that, was a vaguely pony-shaped chunk whose only actual feature was a single, hateful right eye. Attached to that, its neck was bloated and asymmetrical and connected it to the rest of the nightmare of skittering and twitching limbs by a corpulent maggot-like body.

As the monster stood up to its full height—nearly three times Applejack’s—Phantasma’s chest pulled itself open, revealing it to be a maw of gnashing, hungering teeth made from the discarded Corastone shards. Deep within that mouth seethed a nucleus of green fire.

“I… I am the Queen of Queens! The master of the Court! The wheels of history move at my touch! You have some nerve to defy ME!”

The gnawing, chattering chest-mouth let out a deafening, hateful bellow, filling the air with fire.

“You think you’ve won? You think just because you’ve cast me out, that I am beaten? Hah! Ha-ha-ha! So long as my Corastone remains, I will come back to haunt you, again and again and AGAIN! You cannot win! You… Will… Never… WIN!”

While she raged and thrashed manically, Applejack neatly folded her wings and stowed them beneath her amber carapace. “Ya know, y’all sure like ta hear yerself talk.”

Phantasma snarled. “Excuse me?”

Applejack looked her square in her eye, unflinching. “Once upon a time, y’all were the most feared changelin’ there ever was. Now look at ya; yer just a memory too afraid ta die. All ya do is take yer frustrations out on everypony else, but where has that gotten ya? Just look at yerself! You ain’t even a changelin’ no more! This whole thing is dragged on long enough, Phantasma. Just let it go.”

Phantasma roared in her face. “I will never! All that matters to me is my revenge! Your mother… Carnation…! She should have picked me! She was supposed to pick me! I am the only one who understood her! And instead, she KILLED me! All to make nice with these… these… ponies! She betrayed me, the only one who mattered! No, I will NOT let this go. Not so long as one SPECK of my being remains!”

“Ah suppose there ain’t gonna be no reasonin’,” Applejack said evenly. “Mama saw the same thing in ponies Ah do, but yer so set in yer ways Ah could never make it make sense to ya. All Ah can do fer ya now is ta put ya down ta rest again.”

Phantasma grew still for a moment. Her eye rested on Applejack for a long time. “You’re just like her,” she commented. It was such a plain, inflectionless statement that it took Applejack by surprise. “We were of the same mind, her and I. We both wanted something better for our people. So then why…”

Abruptly, the rage snapped back into her features. “Oh who cares about that anymore!? If I can’t destroy Equestria, I’ll just settle for YOU!”

With an enraged howl, the monstrosity opened its expansive maw—a gaping chasm of teeth and fire large enough to swallow Applejack whole and then some. From that cavernous mouth poured an eruption of caustic fire that billowed forth, taking the shape of grasping claws.

A flash of motion out of the corner of Applejack’s eye. She turned, and just saw Rainbow launch herself at her, fire in her eyes. Applejack twisted, opting to catch her instead of address the column of fire bearing down on them.

An instant before they grabbed hold of each other, an arc of energy jumped between them. And just as the heat of the flames started to burn against their bodies, the flames unexpectedly parted.

The roar of the hellish inferno was met with a loud, almost musical keening sound. The eradicating flames were met with a nova of brilliant, indomitable light.

The fire withered against the overpowering wall of force colliding with it. Phantasma staggered back, shielding her eye against the glare while she snarled.

Not far away, Applejack opened her eyes and looked down to find Rainbow hugging her chest tightly. “I’m not out of this yet, bugbrain,” she growled. “Me? Let you fight for me? No way, not after everything I’ve been through to get you back to normal.” Rainbow raised her head, her eyes burning with determination. “You and me, Applejack. Together.”

Applejack blinked at her. Then, she smiled. “Like always.”

Rainbow grinned. “You got that right.”

They nodded to each other, then in unison, they let each other go. Together, they rose to their hooves. Together they stood tall, and together, they turned to face the enemy.

Across the room, Phantasma scoffed. “Oh what’s this? Coming to face me hoof in hoof? Fine, it makes no difference to me.”

“We’re gonna make you eat those words,” Rainbow shot.

Both she and Applejack took a step forward in unison. And as they did, a bolt of lightning arced between them. The very air between their bodies shimmered with heat, catching Phantasma’s attention.

They were both in motion at the same time. Rainbow’s wings shot open, and she darted to the right. Applejack sprang forward, breaking left.

“Is that the best you can do?!” Phantasma laughed. Two of her misshapen claws lifted, and in the palm of each, a dark energy crackled.

Rainbow saw it coming and veered sharply upward, neatly dodging the ray of deathly energy meant for her chest. The blast instead carved a black scar across the surface of the chamber roof.

Applejack planted her hooves and sprang to the side, just managing to dodge a blast aimed her way.

As she watched, more limbs were lifting off the ground, each one humming with a dark, lethal power. And as they did, the spire they all stood on trembled.

Applejack glanced towards one of the openings in the wall, and witnessed a massive shadow falling towards them. “Rainbow!” she shouted. Her own wings shot open, and she threw herself to the side as a massive, fanged tendril crashed into the chamber, bringing down a section of the roof.

As Applejack sailed through the air, she felt something catch her by the side. 

“Gotcha!” 

The next thing she knew, her course changed, and her hooves hit the ground, which gave her a lot more traction than glassy crystal might suggest.

Across from her, the monstrous maw snapped and tried to lunge in her direction. It broke off more of the ceiling and roof as it wormed its way forward in its attempt to fit the rest of its head inside.

“That’s gonna be a problem,” Applejack grunted. 

“Ya think?” Rainbow shot back as she landed next to her. “What’re we gonna do?”

“Scream as you die a painful death would be my suggestion,” Phantasma laughed from across the room.

The slavering fangs spread open wider as more of the structure crumbled. Any moment now and it would be able to rip itself free.

That was when a band of golden magic wrapped around its neck. The monstrosity yelped… and was gone, wrenched back the way it’d come.

As the hole opened up, Rainbow and Applejack beheld the scene outside.


~~***~~


Once oily vines now writhed hundreds of feet in the air, each one sprouting at least one pair of snapping jaws big enough to crush houses. And yet, they were all too preoccupied to ever turn their attention on the spire.

Hundreds of changelings whirled through the air, harassing the gargantuan things. On the ground, multicolored spells light up the night, detonating across oily black bodies.

Applejack just caught sight of the monstrosity that had been ripped free of their chamber now turning around to face a dazzling figure that radiated light like an earthbound sun. At Princess Celestia’s side, Twilight was busy literally knotting two of the monsters in a textbook constrictor knot.

“Stay sharp, Twilight,” Celestia instructed. “Do not let them surround you.”

“I’m on it,” Twilight said, focusing. She watched with quite a bit of frustration when the two monstrous tentacles she’d just tied up—literally—partially dissolved into smoke, then reformed, untangled. “They just keep coming.”

“Indeed,” Celestia noted. The massive tentacle she’d wrenched from the spire made a sudden lunge for her, closing the distance with frightful speed. In the next instant, the air was rent by the sound like a cannon firing, and the tentacle was bowled over backward, crushing at least three others as it was launched away. “I have not felt such dark, hateful magic in a very long time.”

The bowled over tentacle suddenly launched itself upright again, and with terrifying speed it swung its body around like a bludgeon. Both Twilight and Celestia saw it coming, and both turned to face it.

That was when a massive, starry claw smashed into its throat.

The monstrous creature yelped in surprise as something enormous and very upset fell upon it, delivering blow after blow with its free claw.

Twilight blinked as she reeled back, caught very much off guard. The enormous creature didn’t seem entirely corporeal; it had no reflection nor cast any shadow, and instead seemed like a living, moving piece of the night sky that was fully intent on bludgeoning everything in arms reach to a stain on the floor.

“We hope we are not too late!” called a voice behind them. Twilight and Celestia turned, as two figured swiftly flapped up to their level.

One of them, Twilight had to do a double take, for it was most certainly Princess Luna. Except, her mane had changed. Instead of the ethereally wafting mane she’d come to expect, it had turned completely black, like a starless night sky.

“Pray forgive my lateness,” Luna said, her voice cold. “I was not myself.”

“None of us were,” said Cadance, who flew up slightly behind her.

“I’m glad you’re both feeling better,” Twilight said quickly, “but what the hay is that?” She gestured towards the hulking starry figure, which was currently pounding a tentacle’s head into an ever-deepening crater.

Luna gave her a blank look, glanced at the creature, then back to her. “Oh, that would be Orion.”

“The constellation?!”

A slightly irritable look flashed across Luna’s expression. “Yes the constellation. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, on your right.”

Without even looking, Twilight angled her head and fired a jet of violet light at the monstrous tentacle bearing down on them. It let out a yelp, and suddenly shrank to the size of a blade of grass.

But even as it shrank to near nothing, more were bursting from the soil. For all of its brute strength, Orion wasn’t convincing any its victims to stay down.

“They just keep coming,” Cadance said as she fired another bolt of magic, which turned a tentacle to glass. A few moments later, and the crystalline body collapsed, giving way to a new, black tentacle forming from its base.

“Spread out,” Celestia instructed. “Protect as many as you can. Once the ponies have evacuated, we make for the spire.”

Three princesses nodded, and everypony fanned out across the sky, leaving a path of mayhem in their wake.


~~***~~


From atop the spire, Phantasma grumbled. “So, it would seem the princesses can use their magic again.”

She rounded on Rainbow and Applejack, who were both out of breath. “I don’t know what you did to this throne, and frankly, I don’t care to know. Live or die, I will at least get the satisfaction of knowing you two are dead and gone. Then I will just bide my time and start this whole process over again. Don’t the two of you see? Your struggle amounts to nothing more than the stubbornness of petulant children. Regardless of whether or not I fall here and now, you will be no nearer in ending this war.”

Across the room, Applejack and Rainbow continued to stand side by side.

“What do you think?” Rainbow asked while Phantasma rambled away.

Applejack frowned. “Ah need ta get closer. Can ya get me there?”

Rainbow snorted. “Filly, you can’t spell awesome without ‘me’. I’ll get you there.”

“…Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Applejack nodded, and took a step forward. And when she did, the loose shards and rubble around her hooves started to dance and jitter. The crystal floor all around her glowed intensely, and a dangerous hum fill the air.

Applejack raised her horn, and as she did, it ignited. From it came a brilliant pink light wreathed in a fiery orange flame. Her mane, tail and eyes all glowed like superheated gold, her hair rising as if weightless.

Phantasma’s eye narrowed as she rounded on the spectacle. “Oh? Want to try your luck, dearie? Alright, give it your best shot.”

Pinkish, orange flames unfurled from Applejack’s horn as she raised it high, then swung it down to point straight at Phantasma.

The eruption of power that ripped from her body nearly threw her over backwards. The deafening bang of the blast filled the air, and a wall of energy surged across the room, filling it floor to ceiling.

Phantasma grinned at the impressive—though woefully inexpert—discharge, and with a wave of several limbs, her massive bulk sank through the floor. The blast tore through the empty air where she’d been, exploding out into the night sky and over the heads of the combatants outside. 

A second later, Phantasma’s oily body launched out of the floor again like a breaching whale, mere feet from Applejack’s right. She saw it, but was unable to spring aside before a knobby limb swatted her with enough force to launch her off her hooves.

“Pathetic, pathetic,” Phantasma chided. “Someone like you should know better than to try your hoof at magic. It simply isn’t one of your strong suits.”

“Then how about this?!”

Phantasma turned, got to “Wha—?”, and found a pair of hooves burying themselves into her face.

The sheer force of Rainbow’s impact was enough to bend Phantasma in the other direction and leave her misshapen head horribly deformed.

Rainbow grinned triumphantly—up until a claw grabbed her painfully by the forelegs, yanking her to a standstill.

Phantasma’s only eye reoriented itself, pulling itself to the left side of her head to inspect the ornery pegasus. “So, you chose to fight me up close, hmm? How gutless.”

Rainbow curled her lip. “Why’s that?”

Phantasma’s face gave a mouthless grin. “Because, dearie, suicide is the coward’s way out.”

Six claws, hooves and aberrant appendages leveled themselves at Rainbow’s head, each crackling with a dark power.

“Any last words before I put you out of my misery?” Phantasma inquired.

“Sure,” Rainbow said back. “How about… gotcha?”

Phantasma blinked, suspicion flying to her defense, when she heard the scrabble of hooves on the crystal floor.

She turned, but too late did she notice Applejack closing the distance between them. She snarled, leveling barbed and clawed limbs at her, and thrust them in her attacker’s direction.

Only one found its mark, slashing against Applejack’s cheek. The rest swung through empty air as she ducked low, pivoted on her front two hooves, and leveled her hind legs straight at Phantasma’s exposed pulpy side.

As Applejack reeled back, her legs shined with pent up magical force, energy arcing through the air. And then, she bucked with everything she had.

The impact rang across the room like a gunshot. The force of it was enough to heave Phantasma’s incredible girth clean off the floor. It ripped through her body, tearing out the other side and striking the wall behind her with enough force to crater it.

In the next instant, Phantasma was sailing through the air, all the wind knocked out of her. She hit the ground hard enough to make the chamber quake, and rolled several times before coming to a rest on her back.

Phantasma took a deep rattling breath, then roared in defiance, legs kicking wildly at the air as they tried to find purchase. As she struggled, she noticed Applejack quickly step up towards her.

Her long, curved horn was ablaze with an alien magic she’d never seen before; pink, wreathed by orange fire. Concentrated magical power burned in her eyes as her horn discharged arcs of angry magic.

At the sight of that, Phantasma paused, then let out a peal of laughter. “Do you not learn, dearie? Or have we not been over this magical talent of yours? Honestly, what spells do you even know?”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed. “Just one.”

The air around Phantasma started to hum and crackle. Arcs of fulminating power jittered and danced all across her considerable girth. The monstrosity looked down the length of her, and suddenly realized what was happening.

She bellowed loudest of all as she struggled in desperation to rise, as the air around her let out a keening, shrieking sound of shredding reality, and with a fiery bang, she disappeared completely from sight.

Applejack stood motionless for a time in the now silent chamber. She stared at the charred spot where Phantasma had been, and she continued to stare until she felt a familiar presence alight on the ground beside her.

Though she would have liked nothing more than to lean against Rainbow, to feel that supportive strength she so relied on, she instead turned towards her. 

Rainbow gave her an expectant look. Despite looking absolutely terrible, what with all of the dirt and cuts and lingering colorlessness in her face, Rainbow still looked ready and rearing to go for anything.

“Sup?” Rainbow said to the unspoken question Applejack was giving her.

“Rainbow, Ah need ya ta find Agave,” she said. “Get that gosh darn Corastone away from her, ya hear?”

“Loud and clear,” Rainbow said with a nod. “What about you?”

Applejack scowled and looked away. “Ah’m gonna make sure this is over and done with.”


~~***~~


Amid cultivated boughs and a green, forested square, a ball of soft pink changeling fire erupted out of thin air. From it, a mass of charred limbs and body parts crashed to the ground with an earth-shattering thud. Within seconds, the whole square stank of smoke.

Phantasma groaned, her warped form rippling and shifting. Limbs collapsed and reformed freely as she struggled to rise. Instead of flipping herself over, she simply reoriented her head and limbs in relation to the ground, which produced a sickening chorus of cracks and pops.

“Why… why do they always defy me…?” she seethed to herself. “Carnation… urgh… Carnation…! Why didn’t you… choose me…? You were… supposed to… choose…”

Phantasma went to stand, only to crush half a dozen spindly legs in the process. She looked over her right shoulder, and came to a grim realization.

Her body was dissolving again. Once solid limbs were melting back into black slime. She wasn’t in the throne room anymore.

Phantasma sighed irritably. “Oh just lovely…”

A faint glow behind her caught her attention.

Phantasma turned around further with a grim sort of resignation. She was not expecting to see the humongous canvas tent dominating the center of the square. Through the dense canvas, something glowed with a clean white light.

All around her, trees sighed in a sudden low breeze. Grass gently waved, and flowers in nearby gardens bobbed in the wind. Overhead, a banner emblazoned with “Happy Summer Sun Celebration!” flapped in the breeze.

Phantasma stared balefully at the source of that light, her resignation deepening. “So… this is where you hid it. Typical of you, Carnation… Always in the right place at the worst possible time…”

A loud buzzing sound drew her around the other way. Phantasma turned as the trees parted, and four figures descended from the sky.

Two drones held onto Applejack as she inexpertly alighted on the ground. At the sight of the terrible creature dominating most of the square, the drones squeaked in fright and jumped back. But in their place, a dozen more materialized from thin air, fangs bared and feral hisses rending the air.

More and more drones came into view, filtering down through the trees and appearing through blazing tunneling spells. But none dared approach the hideous abomination slowly crumbling in front of them.

Phantasma eyed them all, then turned on Applejack. Even as she melted away to nothing, she gave her a hateful glare. “Go ahead, then. Gloat. Revel in your victory. You’ve won. All of my plans have fallen apart—again. Like mother, like daughter; a traitor to your own kind. Just look at you…”

Phantasma looked her up and down. “One of a kind, alone in the whole world. Hmph… and you accuse me of no longer being a changeling. Tell me; what’s the view like from your high horse?”

Applejack shook her head. “Y’all still don’t get it. Ya probably never will, I suppose.” She looked up to stare Phantasma in the eye. “We just proved ya wrong; Ah ain’t ever alone. Ah ain’t ever been. And so long as we’re together, y’all ain’t ever gonna win.”

Phantasma groaned. “Such an idealist, just like your mother. Always prattling on about the good of everyone…”

Applejack shook her head again. “Ah guess some things just run in the family. Right, aunt?”

Phantasma’s expression soured. “Don’t you ever call me that. But…” she looked down. “I… suppose there is some truth in it.”

There was barely anything left of her now. Amid a pool of congealed muck, the stalk of her neck protruded up into the air.

“This… isn’t how it’s supposed to end,” Phantasma grumbled, and in her tone, there was something less hateful—something that almost sounded afraid. “Ugh… Now I have to start all over again.”

With a grunt of effort, Phantasma’s sludgy body heaved. The drones closed in around Applejack, horns crackling and maws snarling, but Applejack stayed at their front.

With much grunting and straining, Phantasma managed to condense herself into a form vaguely pony-shaped. Four jointless trunks picked her up while the rest of her body cascaded copious amount of sludge. Her new form wouldn’t last long.

“Know this, daughter of Carnation,” Phantasma spat. “I will never stop. On that, I pledge. Over, and over, until I win; that is my curse upon you.”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed. “That ain’t gonna happen. Ah’ll make sure that Corastone of yers gets put someplace safe where it won’t hurt nopony.”

“No?” Phantasma said, a ghost of her jeering tone coming back. As she spoke, she backed up slowly, laboriously. “Are you that naïve, dearie? Think about it; someone got my Corastone to you. Someone orchestrated this entire thing from behind the scenes and you never even noticed. Have you ever stopped to wonder who could possibly be responsible?”

The corners of Phantasma’s mouthless face pulled up in a simile of a grin. “No? Well, I could venture a guess for you.”

She took one final step back, her rear-most leg brushing the heavy canvas tent. And as soon as she touched it, the light glowing inside rose to a blinding intensity. A howl of wind washed over the square, rushing out from inside the tent itself. So intense was the blast that the canvas was lifted clean off the ground, exposing the thing inside.

Balanced on a precariously thin stem stood a throne-like cup of bright blue crystal. Flowering vines wrapped around its entire body, giving it the appearance of a tree. Its highest pinnacle exploded with light, shining brightest of all.

And in the next instant, Phantasma’s body evaporated under the intense light. Within a split second, she was gone; even the corrupted fragments of Applejack’s Corastone were reduced to wisps of smoke.

The last thing Applejack saw of the ghost of Phantasma was its mouthless grin, its mocking purple eye, and its lipless jaw move as she spoke her final words.

“Not all queenless are on your side.”

Then, her form withered away to smoke, and for the second time, Phantasma was no more.


~~***~~


Rainbow swooped in low over the thatched roof buildings, ignoring the aches and pains ravaging her body. As she crested one more house, she came into sight of the train station. The lights of the platform were on, lighting up the shape of the train still parked in the station.

Rainbow came in low and fast, only touching down again when she was in the entryway. “Agave! Shining Armor!” She called as she landed. “It’s over! We…”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes swept over the scene in front of her.

Several guards were laying prone on the floor. Several crates of supplies had been overturned in an apparent struggle. And in front of Rainbow, a stallion stood in the middle of it all, a spear frozen in the act of parrying.

“Shining?” Rainbow question, frowning.

That was when she felt a sharp pinch against her neck.

Instantaneously, every muscle in her body tensed painfully. She could only inhale sharply as she cramped up and froze.

From her side, a beleaguered sigh sounded. “Won? No, I’m afraid not yet, sonrisa.”

Rainbow couldn’t turn her head, no matter how hard she tried. But she was still able to roll her eyes around in the direction of that familiar voice, and stare at the single blue eye looking back at her. 

Cassava gave Rainbow a sad, almost apologetic sort of smile. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Rainbow Dash. Really. You’ll be back to normal in a few hours, I promise, as will Shining Armor. But I can’t have you stopping me right now.”

Cassava glanced over Rainbow’s shoulder, apparently reacting to some sort of sound he’d heard. “Really, things could have been so much more simple. It’s too bad Reina Applejack had to throw a monkey wrench in things. It was inevitable, I guess, but… it never hurts to hope for the best possible outcome.”

He turned, and as he did, Cassava patted Rainbow’s rigid shoulder. “You tell them that for me, won’t you?”

He strode away, and for a while, Rainbow could not see him. She only made out the click of his hooves on the train platform somewhere behind him, some manner of furtive movement, and then the sound of hooves approaching again.

This time, Cassava walked around in front of him, allowing Rainbow to look him in the eye.

His horn glowed. He was telekinetically tying a knot around his neck, securing a sort of sack to him. On his front, the sack bulged almost to the point of bursting, revealing a perfectly round shape inside

Cassava offered a sad sort of smile. “We all have our obligations. Just because they are unsavory does not mean we are free to discard them. Before Aconita took me in, I was duty-bound to another. One I… cannot abandon after all, it seems.”

Rainbow’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Cassava’s grin widened in response. “You know, I wish I could see the look on your face. It must be priceless. You ponies really do have the best reactions. But if you would, please tell Applejack that it was never personal. It was never about what her mother did to mine, or what she stood for. It was simply… duty. Yes, I was the one that brought Phantasma’s Corastone to her. It was really the only option. Either Applejack resurrected my queen, or…”

He glanced over his shoulder, off into some unseen spot out of Rainbow’s line of sight. “As I said. Sometimes, obligations are unsavory. I had a chance to save her, but thanks to Reina Applejack… that is no longer a choice. It was either her, or Agave. Now… now there is no choice.”

Then he sighed and turned to walk away into the night. He rounded Rainbow and trotted out of sight again, but she still heard him pause. “Tell her that for me. Oh… and tell Twilight… hm… nevermind.” He took a few more steps then paused with an “Ah.”

“Tell her… it was fun.”

He didn’t pause again as he swiftly strode into the night. Rainbow heard a strange shimmering sound, when the sounds of hooves vanished, she knew that Cassava and Phantasma’s Corastone had vanished into the night.
 
	
> Chapter 26: The Paths We Walk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A soft summer dawn broke over the thatched roofs of Ponyville. Under a sky dyed pink and yellow, doors cracked open, and ponies cautiously emerged from their homes. The looked up, down, all around, reflexively scanning for the source of the cataclysmic rumbling and booming.

Cloudkicker was among the first wave, and she stepped through her door expecting to find the world in ruin. Which was why she was carrying a cast iron skillet, the closest thing to a weapon in her house. She scanned about for the closest monster in need of a good whap across the face.	

Instead, she was greeted by a rather nice day; the air was cool, the breeze mild and bracing. And all the houses around her still stood, none the worse for wear. She twitched her nose, but the only thing she detected on the wind was the scent of drew-laden grass and wet dirt.	

There was something in the air, though. Not a smell, but a strange feeling Cloudkicker couldn't place. The morning felt a little too calm, a little too picturesque, considering the harrowing night they’d been through.	

Cloudkicker couldn't place it, yet somehow she knew: something momentous had happened last night, something incredible. The same feeling had gripped her the night Twilight Sparkle inexplicably sprouted wings; a feeling of knowing without actually knowing.

She had no idea what it could be, standing on her doorstep, watching the gold and pink rays of morning crest over the rooftops across from her. Ponies up and down the street emerged with similar looks on their faces, undoubtedly sensing the same inexplicable nuance Cloudkicker had.

Something brushed against her side, and she turned to find Bumblebee standing beside her in the doorway.

She’d bounced back from the previous night quite remarkably, in a way only a changeling could. Just a few hours ago, she could barely lift a hoof. Now, her luminescent eyes were sharp, her ears perked up and aimed forward. She was alert and scanning for… something. Perhaps the same something they all were feeling.

She was still a little wobbly, but something was compelling her to action. Cloudkicker could see it.

Bumblebee turned to her and met her gaze. They didn’t say anything - neither could think of anything that needed to be said. But somehow, Cloudkicker understood.

She bumped her nose against the changeling’s and smiled. It was the only way she could show she understood. Well… not really, yet she did. It was a complicated feeling roiling about in her heart.

Bumblebee blinked, then smiled. Then, her wings spread, were brought to a droning buzz, and she took off. Cloudkicker watcher her go until she’d disappeared over the rooftops, and was gone.

The sky was not quite as picturesque after that.

“Hey! Hey guys! Come look at this!”

Cloudkicker jolted, then turned. Further down the road, a stallion was waving a hoof at the crowd that had started to form in the street. He was gesticulating at some point around the corner of the last house on the block, where the cityscape fell away to an open grassland.

Curious mutterings broke out. Ponies started to flock in that direction, wondering - and dreading a little - what the commotion was about.

Cloudkicker paused, glanced at the rooftops, then followed while ignoring the strange weight in her chest. What was going on?



~~***~~



Again, Cloudkicker found herself bracing for a scene of total annihilation.

She didn't know what to expect, having heard the distant booms and flashes of light the previous night. Some around her undoubtedly thought they’d emerge to find their homes the only ones left standing in a war torn wasteland.

Yet the countryside they were directed to seemed just as pristine as before, confusing many. Hills of green sprawled out in every direction in front of them, rising higher in the distance. Trees sighed and swayed in a morning breeze. Grass danced in waves. Tree houses ambled in packs.

…

Something about that last thought didn't sound right to the collective residents of Ponyville.

But as the spectacle went on, and as more ponies blinked harder and harder to banish the lingering dreams they must be seeing, more ponies found themselves watching the same bizarre spectacle taking place just outside of town that, astonishingly, was not a dream.

Living homes were ambling slowly across open fields on many squat legs, giving the town a generous berth. Given the sheer size of them, and the way the ground noticeably shook with their lumbering strides, it probably wouldn’t take much for one of those things to knock a building down by accident.

The houses appeared to be made of trees and brush, or more accurately, like trees and brush cultivated in the shape of buildings, not counting windows and doors or other such fixtures, of course. The houses were moving along on an array of roots of varying sizes that crawled forward purposefully, but carefully, as if afraid of trampling someone. Some improvised feet were thick and sturdy and left divots where they dug into the earth. Others were barely bigger than twigs, and shuddered under the considerable weight they were supporting, or milled uselessly without finding purchase.

As ponies watched the improbable herd migrating by, they soon noticed shapes moving among the tree houses.

Immediately it became obvious that those shapes belonged to changelings. The townsfolk had seen enough of them by now to recognize their flitting movements and bright blue eyes peeking out from cover.

Drones were herding the congregation of some thirty or more houses, the onlookers realized. Some darted in front and around each waddling, creaking structure, making squeaking cries to some unseen operator inside. Every once in awhile, a relayed squeal would come from an open window; a response of some kind that the onlookers did not understand.

Once, a spotter let out a quick, high pitched bleat. The house he was guiding immediately stumbled to a stop, leaning forward precariously before rocking back again. After a series of high pitched calls, the tree house lumbered awkwardly to one side and skirted around some unseen obstacle - a boulder, perhaps, hidden by the tall grass.

On the edge of the field, ponies watched transfixed with a mix of curiosity and mild apprehension, as was the custom with unfamiliar spectacles. In their midst, a young sky blue filly started pawing at the side of her father to get his attention.

“Daddy? Daddy, where are they going?” she asked, watching the houses march passed.

“I don't know, honeybunch,” her father responded, frowning.

“Are they leaving?” the filly said, voice rising nervously.

“I don't think so,” said Cloudkicker, speaking for the first time in what felt like ages.

Everypony turned to look at her, then realized she was looking away from them, towards the horizon. She raised a hoof and pointed to something rising from over the nearby hills.

And there, rising high into the air, was an improbably spindly spire of brilliant crystal. Its summit - a geometrically impossible pyramid resting amid petal-like plates and spires of crystal perched atop an alarmingly thin, crooked shaft - shined in the dawn light, and seemed to make the air around it shine, as well.

The crowd stared at the all new curiosity, only barely paying attention to the other curiosity taking place right beside them. The silence in the group was only broken when Cloudkicker spoke again.

“They’re going home.”



~~***~~



Princess Celestia stood quiet and inscrutable on a balcony atop city hall. The vantage point allowed her a view over the rooftops of Ponyville, though the object of her attention hardly needed it.

She gazed pensively at the crystal spire now rising on the horizon. The rising sun’s rays hit its many facets, making the sky sparkle like it, too. Her thoughts her own, she stood in silence, scrutinizing the latest change to her beloved country.

A faint sound behind her made her ear swivel around, though her eyes stayed forward. She had a fair enough idea who it was.

Sure enough, her sister spoke from behind as she trotted towards her. “The Guard has finished their sweep,” she said. “They will be returning to Canterlot within the hour.”

“Mmm,” Celestia said distractedly.

Luna eyed here, but continued. She pulled to a stop beside her sister, and followed her gaze. “Furthermore, I took the liberty of raising the quarantine on the changeling district,” she said. “Captain Steel Shod has not made any public announcements since last night. I suspect he is still too much in shock. It may be best to begin procedures to find a replacement.”

“Mmm.”

Luna glanced at her sister, a mildly annoyed look flashing across her freatures. “And I must report that I am with foal,” she said evenly.

Celestia whipped her head around. “Really?”

Without changing expression, Luna turned to stare at the sunrise on the horizon. “At least your selective hearing still works.”

Celestia sighed. “I am sorry, sister. There has been much on my mind of late.” she turned, and gazed at the spire again.

For a time, they were quiet, each watching the tower of crystal as if expecting it to jump to life and start rampaging across the countryside.

“You feel it, too, do you not?” Celestia asked quietly, though they were alone.

“I do,” Luna said with a nod. “It is something I have never felt before.”

Celestia nodded, as well. “In all of our journeys, in all of our adventures before coming to this land, I thought we had experienced every form of magic this world had to offer. I admit, I was very naive back then, but even so. Magic may come in infinite forms, but it always seems to boil down to the same principles that were not as flexible. But this magic… This is something… different.”

She sighed, her eyes dropping thoughtfully. A bemused smile flickered. “Just when I believe I’ve solve the changeling mystery, something else comes along to ruin all of my hypotheses. What a bothersome bunch they turned out to be.”

Luna glanced at her, then looked back towards the sky. “A magic that has not truly existed for ten thousand years… And now it is in the hooves of a simple farmer without the faintest inkling of what to do with it. Truly fate has a cruel sense of humor.”

Luna turned towards her sister again, and gave her a searching look. “And what do you suppose Applejack will do now? She is one of a kind, alone in the world with what she’s become. The Court will fear that. They will try to snuff it out. You and I both know this incident was just a skirmish compared to what will come if they are desperate.”

Celestia nodded, her grin fading. “Yes, I am aware. And I am sure so is Applejack. What she does next could decide much and more for all of us. It is… quite the burden. Especially for, as you said, a simple farmer.”

She turned back towards the sky, her expression becoming mercurial again. “What happens next is up to her.”



~~***~~



The first thing Applejack became aware of was a soft, rhythmic thumping. She was warm, and supremely comfortable. It almost felt like a crime to wake from such relaxation, but wake she did, bit by bit.

And bit by bit, she became aware of her surroundings.

She heard the soft ticking of a clock. She felt the familiar lumps in a familiar bed. She smelled the familiar notes of dust, cinnamon, and apples. She was home, safe and sound.

Something shifted around her. A voice mumbled peacefully, and then her bedding snuggled her closer.

Applejack cracked open one eye. A rainbow spectrum of colors blinded her. She found herself in a tangle of limbs, all neatly slotted together like matching puzzle pieces.

Rainbow Dash slept, halfway next to her, halfway on her. she'd worked her hooves around Applejack in the night, and now held her as securely as a teddy bear. A wing was draped protectively over her, wrapping her in a warm, downy embrace. Applejack blinked, slowly. She couldn't remember ever being this close to Rainbow before. she could see her chest rising and falling… Rising and falling…

She was so close that she could see several scars from her many crash landings. The one by the tip of Applejack's nose was crescent-shaped, and virtually invisible under Rainbow's fuzzy coat of fur.

Applejack blinked again. Was she awake? Or still dreaming? It had been a most wonderful dream…

Her eyelids grew heavy. she yawned, then put her head down, in between Rainbow's hooves, where it was warmer. she pressed her forehead to her chest, and felt herself slowly drift off, lulled by the rhythm of Rainbow's reassuring heartbeat.

Almost immediately, however, Applejack was roused again, this time by a sudden jostle.

She blinked, bleary-eyed, and looked up.

she found herself looking up into a familiar face framed by a rainbow mane. A face that had turned beat red.

“Rainbow?” Applejack croaked.

Rainbow jumped like she had been shot at. And in the next instant, Applejack found herself on the floor, tangled in her blankets, a pegasus-shaped contrail leading out the window and towards the distant horizon.

In her wake, she left a very confused and disoriented apple farmer on the bedroom floor.

"The hay was that for?” she grunted as she righted herself, looked down, and noticed the long, ebony legs protruding out from underneath her.

Her legs.



~~***~~



Applejack blinked at herself. She’d been doing that for some time, and each time felt like, maybe this time, the dream would dissipate. She’d wake up, and things would be exactly as they had been before. It would be just another morning on the farm, her chores waiting impatiently while she cleaned up for the day. Her life, the one she felt she hadn’t experienced in years.

But the strange yet beautiful face in the bathroom mirror did not change. In many ways it was familiar, but in many others it was not. She kept finding herself daydreaming, then suddenly noticing the face in the mirror and snapping back to reality, over and over.

The black chitin was familiar, though… different. Smoother, maybe, softer-looking. Maybe it didn’t have some kind of loathsome sheen she’d never noticed before, or making the black quality of it looked richer somehow, more… healthy? Something along those lines, but whatever it was she couldn’t identify it with simple words.

And there was something in the face that haunted her. It would take a day or two before it struck Applejack that in the strangeness of the features, she could see a ghost of something familiar - a ghost of her mother. There was no concrete aspect that she could point to, but now whenever she looked into the mirror, it always was accompanied by thoughts of Carnation.

The amber eyes were familiar, save for the normal, round pupils that now sat where narrow slits had been. The eyes, once haunting and unsettling even to her, looked… strange. Brighter, perhaps. More expressive, though that could have been because they weren’t quite as alien as before. And now those eyes were looking at her with a strangely speculative, shy look. Guarded, cautious.

She no longer had fangs, and the lack of contact of tooth-on-lower-lip while in this form was something strange to miss. She kept finding herself moving her lips and mouth, trying to find a familiar sensation that wasn’t there anymore. Once, when she was younger, one of her fangs had slipped behind her lip when she closed her mouth, and the sharp edge had gouged her gums. Ever since then, the lack of them against her lip made her anxious.

At least her mane had stopping glowing like molten metal and wafting in an ethereal wind. That had been alarming for a great many reasons. But now it laid motionless and glow-less, like always. Whatever power had erupted inside her had cooled, settled, like lava turning to inert stone. It was still there, buried deep down; when she stopped, closed her eyes and concentrated, Applejack just thought she caught a tickling sensation of something that hadn’t been there before, a nuclei of simmering magma not yet cooled, waiting to wake the volcano inside her.

Her hair brush worked it's way through the strands, tugging lightly as she straightened her mane. It still shined, but not in an otherworldly sense; It was so glossy and beautiful now that anything she did to it now seemed far beneath the standards it deserved. It was longer than she was used to, but then again so were the hooves she was using to brush it. It all equalled out, but the change in scale also did not go unnoticed. The chair she sat in felt like it’d been borrowed for a foal’s plastic playset. The vanity mirror she studied herself in looked almost comically undersized, and the brush she was using felt miniscule. Her hooves felt stretched and cumbersome, her neck just as much so.

Applejack paused mid-stroke. She glanced at her hooves, now without holes riddling them. Everything seemed so… different. The story of her life, perhaps; a tale of peculiarity trying desperately to masquerade as normal. This time she had an aspect of peculiarity she could see, at least.

But this time… this time it didn't feel like something bad or wrong. It felt… she wasn't sure. But the apprehension hadn't crept up on her like she’d expected. This was something new. Something… new. That was the only way she could wrap her head around it. She didn’t find herself repelled by her new features like she had been by her former self for most of her life, but a part of her dreaded if that was because the novelty hadn’t worn off yet. Sooner or later, the old familiar feelings would come back, maybe stronger than ever, once it sank in that this was her, now. Some part of her felt certain of it, so certain she couldn’t help but mentally gird herself against this phantom possibility.

There was so much to think about, so much to evaluate. And Applejack sure was getting tired of thinking. She’d been thinking so much by now that her head felt like a chewed up wad of gum; flavorless, rubbery and unpleasant.

She nodded minutely to herself, then put the brush down. She closed her eyes, and with a brilliant green flash, a gust of warm air washed over her. She opened her eyes, and a familiar orange face looked back at her. This one was unchanged, much to her relief.

She smiled at the face in the mirror, and it quirked half a grin back at her. She tried not to dwell on that as she tied her mane, reached for her hat… and patted an empty spot on the counter.

Right. It was gone. Broken to pieces on the summit of that crystal… thing. She’d have to get a new one. The cache of Stetsons she’d kept stockpiled in case of accidental hat incineration was still upstairs in her closet, collecting dust and cobwebs and all but forgotten after being neglected for so many months. She’d have to grab one before heading out. Something tugged at her heart, but she ignored it.

A knock on the door distracted her.

“Sis? Ya alright in there?”

Applejack broke into a smile despite herself. She hadn’t even intended to - it just flashed out instinctively, though no one could see it. “Sure am, Apple Bloom. Just… workin’ through some stuff. Got a lot ta adjust to.”

There was quiet on the other side of the door for a moment, “Well, alright. If ya say so.”

Another pause.

“Um, Applejack?”

“Yes?”

“Um… Yer a queen now, right? Does… does that mean yer goin’ ta leave the farm?”

The tug in Applejack’s heart was back. This time, she couldn't push it aside as readily. She looked back at the mirror, at the familiar face that looked back at her for answers as well. But her brain felt as chewed and rubbery as ever.

“... Go downstairs, Apple Bloom. There’s somethin’ Ah gotta talk to y’all about.”

“Okay,” mumbled the voice on the other side of the door. Applejack listened to the retreating patter of hooves, and once they were gone, she turned back to the mirror.

The face looking back at her had not changed. That questioning look remained. But something different was in it now. It wasn't filled with uncertainty, only apprehension. The look was a question in itself: was she ready for what came next?

And if she was honest, she wasn't sure, but she had to be anyway. Story of her life, indeed.



~~***~~



There was something reassuring and altogether surreal about stepping off the landing and finding herself thrown back into the regular hustle and bustle of home. It felt like she was stepping into a forgotten life, or some half remembered dream that filled her with nostalgia.

As usual, at that time of day all the action was in the kitchen. Big Mac was busy setting the table, aided by Apple Bloom eagerly setting the silverware. Granny Smith tended the stove, probably because Big Mac had been unable to convince her to sit, instead. Then again, Nopony made apple cinnamon pancakes like Granny Smith, and nopony told Granny Smith when she could and couldn’t make them.  Applejack smiled warmly at the scene. It felt like ages since she’d seen it, like she’d been gone far, far away, trapped in some kind of visceral nightmare. Had the horrors of the past few days been a bad dream?

Through the window over Granny Smith’s head, a glimmer caught Applejack’s eye. There, in the distance, a towering spire glowed in the rising sun. Even with Ponyville between her and the spire, it was unmistakable.

The smile slipped from Applejack’s face. The illusion broke. She was back in reality again.

“Everythin’ okay, sugarcube?”

The wizened voice of the Apple matriarch snapped Applejack back to reality. She found Granny Smith eying her. The old mare was smiling, but there was something… cautious in her eye. Despite her age and bouts of battiness, something in that look gave Applejack the impression that Granny Smith could see straight through her, and she knew what was coming.

Big Mac had stopped setting the table. He looked up, face mute as ever, yet questioning. Apple Bloom peered over the table, a look of concern in her eyes.

Applejack sighed internally. Then, she offered a small smile. “Everypony, would ya mind takin’ a seat? There’s… somethin’ Ah want ta talk to y'all about.”



~~***~~



The warm morning wind whistled in Rainbow’s ears. She barrel rolled over a cloud, turning it into a corkscrew as she went. But she was only really going through the motions.

Rainbow’s body still ached with a dull, stiff pain from all of her recent flying. She had to have set some kind of record - from Ponyville to the Crystal Empire and back in a day! Beat that Wind Rider! - But of course nopony would believe her. That wouldn’t stop her from bragging, though.

What she was really trying to do, however, was not think about anything. The moment she did, she recalled the image she had woken up to; Applejack's face and muzzle, millimeters from her. All the blood had rushed to her head... and suddenly she was racing across the wild blue yonder.

Stupid, stupid… Applejack must think she was such a weirdo. But the moment she saw her, everything started moving at once.

Rainbow shook her head. Applejack was the same old Applejack. So why did just looking her in the face turn her into such a dummy?

Stupid, stupid...

For the moment, she was content to feel the wind parting over her lithe shape, like a blade through warm butter. The wind in her ears sounded so much like a distant cheer from a stadium. Then she’d catch a bump of turbulence, it would fade, and she’d be left with only an empty howling.

Some subconscious part of Rainbow’s brain knew where she was going. It followed the dictation from the tugging in her chest - not a near-physical pull now, but more like a… longing of some sort. Like the needle on a compass, pointing her to the center of her universe.

The sky felt warm, the winds calm and smooth. In the distance, Sweet Apple acres spread out like an unfolding blanket, materializing through a bank of wispy clouds.

The danger was gone. The urgency, passed. Rainbow felt no need to really lay on the speed. And now that she was done acting like an idiot, she felt no need to daudle.

Then, as she started to dump air from under her wings and gradually arc towards the ground, the glimmer of a distant crystal spire shined right in her eye. She winced, then glanced towards it. And as she did, an idea occurred to her.

A brief image flew through her mind - a shattered crown, transforming then into an image of Applejack holding a Teston in her hooves, anxious, thoughtful.

Without much more thought, she set her jaw, and banked towards her new, glittering destination.



~~***~~



The sun had risen high enough now to bathe all the land in a warm summer’s glow. Applejack shielded her eyes with her hat - one of many spares she’d kept stashed away over the years, in case she incinerated one by accident. It jutted uncomfortably into one of her temples, but she knew from a lifetime of experience that it only needed to be broken in first.

Grass as tall as her knees flowed and waved in waves of wind, sighs of a breeze coming and going as it reached and passed her, again and again. It was like she was wading through an ocean of green, the smell of wildflowers replacing the brine of the sea.

She was climbing a shallow hill. Behind her, over another hill, she could just make out Sweet Apple Acres, its shape known only because she knew what to look for. Eventually she reached the top, and came upon a lone apple tree - long since rendered barren. Its bark was warped and cracked from disease. Some of its branches were bare skeletons while most still were filled with healthy green leaves. It was an old tree, one of the oldest around, usually forgotten and left alone far from the orchards. Someday, perhaps when the next big windstorm hit, it would split right down the middle, and be no more. Yet here it stood, stubborn as a mule, even as death slowly took hold a twig at a time.

Applejack crested the hill, and found herself gazing down upon Ponyville’s sprawling vista. It was unchanged, pristine, despite its many tribulations and trials. Despite everything that had happened, the little town carried on much the same as it always had, unfazed by the machinations of others. The resilience of such a humble town was truly remarkable.

And not just this recent calamity, which had upheaved several homes on the city’s outskirts and very nearly spread a pall of hate across everything she could see now. When her friends had had their cutie marks swapped and processed to wreak havoc across town. When Discord had seemingly turned the world into a realm of madness. When Nightmare Moon had snuffed the sun and very nearly brought ruin to everything. Time and time and time again, Ponyville simply brushed off its shoulders and got back up.

Applejack couldn’t help but smile at it. Despite everything, it was still the same place she’d known her whole life. She wondered if this was what her Mama had seen, maybe under this very tree, when she’d staggered up from the south. Was it this resilience that she’d seen? This indomitable spirit that, no matter how many times darkness invaded it, always found a reason to rise again, unbowed, and throw open hooves and hearts to welcome, even cherish, everything and everyone that asked for a chance.

She wondered if, had Carnation been standing beside her right now, were these the things she’d point out? Would she smile fondly, a mother cherishing the site of her children, and at last tell her, “This is what I found, Applejack.”

The wind in the grass sighed louder than before. A gust rushed up the planes, and crashed over her. She felt it catch the hat on her head, and suddenly it was gone.

Applejack turned, and watched the Stetson sail away, born on the wind. She turned to give chase… when she caught sight of somepony standing behind her.

Where the changeling had come from, she would never know, though that was hardly unusual. But to find a drone standing there quietly at that precise point in time took her aback.

The drone, she could tell, was old. His chitin was pockmarked in places, and bore distinct dark wrinkles under his heads, like tarry canyons. It hung loosely around his neck in what could be construed as jowls. His mane was short and shot through with white. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Yet he still offered a small smile, a gesture designed seemingly only to placate Applejack. “Morning,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? A lifetime, I’d wager.”

Applejack paused, not sure what to say. Rather than be offended, the drone sidled up towards her, and took a place under the tree with her.

“Do Ah know ya?” Applejack inquired, raising an eyebrow.

The featureless blue of the changeling’s eye shifted, and she could tell he was looking at her. “I be surprised if you did,” he said, and there was a strange undercurrent of amusement in his voice.

Applejack’s eyebrow raised higher, but the drone’s eyes shifted away from her. He turned to gaze down at Ponyville, his expression composed. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “Despite being the epicenter for the war between you and the Council, Ponyville still stands unfazed, both in body and spirit. Truly remarkable. Either that or the lot of them are stupid beyond comprehension. I haven't decided which it might be.”

“What are you-” Applejack started to say, then cut herself off. Her eyes grew huge as a sudden realization hit her.

She didn’t know why the name suddenly popped into her head, or what had brought it on. It hadn’t occupied her thoughts at all for a long time, not even a shadow of it. And yet, hearing him echo the thoughts bouncing around in her head, seeing the deep age lines around his eyes and muzzle, hearing the words he’d said in greeting, it popped up as if summoned.

“Yer that Spymaster fella, ain’t ya?” Applejack asked, her voice quiet.

The changeling sniffed. “Titles are stuffy,” he grunted, then turned to look at her. “Call me Trochanter, please.”

Applejack blinked, completely taken aback. Trochanter seemed to notice, though he kept his bemusement down to a twinkle in his eye.

“Quite the eventful past couple of days you’ve had, huh?” he said, and the amusement was back in the timbre of his voice. Like he knew a funny little secret but wasn’t going to share it. “Had your life turned upside down -again- and got to save Equestria while you were at it. All in a day’s work for Carnation’s kid, I’d wager.”

He must have seen the million questions in Applejack’s eyes, because he chuckled under his breath. “You didn’t disappoint, either,” he said. “Untested as you are, I’d say you passed this trial with flying colors.”

“Trial?” Applejack repeated dumbly.

He nodded. “Yes, a trial. What else would you call what happened? A trial of character, of willpower... the list goes on. It’s tradition for the mother to test the daughter when she comes of age, to prove she is ready to take up the throne. And your mother was always big on traditions. But she's not here, so I figured I'd be the judge, instead.

Applejack raised an eyebrow, but Trochanter ignored it.

"I wanted to see what you were capable of, myself, and so I intentionally kept my distance and let Carnation’s test unfold.” He glanced at her meaningfully. “You wouldn’t have wanted the mystery spoiled for you, would you?” he asked.

Applejack’s eye got wider. “Ya knew what was happening to me?” she asked.

“Knew? No, not really. Few drones would,” Trochanter said back. “The inner workings of queens are known only to queens themselves. None have ever been deemed worthy, otherwise. So it helps that I have never known a queen’s presence; got no sense of their holier-than-thou personas. So I have no problems sifting through old books if it pleases me.”

Seeing the look he was getting, Trochanter glanced towards Ponyville. His eyes traced the many streets and the denizens meandering about them. “I’m sure you have many questions for me. Too many, I’m afraid. First, allow me to apologize.”

Applejack blinked. “Fer what?”

Trochanter’s expression hardened slightly. “Had I known Phantasma’s minions were getting involved, I would have intervened before things escalated as much as they did. This was supposed to be your first test - I wished to see how worthy you were of Carnation’s legacy. But I took too far of a step back, and naturally, they exploited it. I should have seen it coming...”

He sighed. “I had always suspected the remnants of Phantasma’s hive would try to do something to exact revenge against you, sooner or later. In much the same way that your followers resent and fear Phantasma, what’s left of her hive has come to despise you. Can't really blame them - your mother took their queen from them. By now I shouldn’t have to explain how devoted changelings can be to their queens, no matter how monstrous they turn out to be.”

Applejack frowned. “Let me get this straight. Y’all woulda let Equestria be destroyed, just to test me?”

Trochanter was unfazed. “Since when as a little catastrophe fazed you or your friends?” he asked. “I was confident you’d pull through, just like always. The only real question was what you’d do.”

Trochanter turned to face her. “It was never a question of if you would succeed and overcome the changeling curse. Your mother was very careful with her plan - you’d think she’d been anticipating it all along, having to sacrifice herself and leave you behind. I admit, I doubted her, just like all the queens down south. But it all came together just like she’d said it would.”

He abruptly lit his horn, and with a puff of sulfurous fire, two golden bits landed in front of Applejack.

“Uh, what’s this for?” she asked, but he just shook his head, as if to say “you wouldn't understand”, and laughed under under his breath.

“It was a question of how you would react,” he went on, ignoring her flummoxed look. “Would you turn and run, when you found out the fate of all queens, and try to spare your subjects from the monster you'd become? Would you stand and fight and overlook the solution standing right beside you the whole time? Personally, my bits were on that one.”

Applejack’s frown deepened. “Ya make it sound like it weren’t no thing,” she grumbled. “Why didn’t Mama leave more clues? All of this coulda been avoided if she’d just made things clear.”

Trochanter’s expression didn’t change. “You see, when she’d regained her heart, she become one of the most insufferably optimistic creatures I have ever met. Including Princess Celestia, and that mare could find a silver lining in the world blowing up.”

He turned to look down at Ponyville again, and in so doing he drew Applejack’s gaze towards it, as well.

“Carnation believed in the hearts of ponies,” he explained. “Their boundless capacity for forgiveness, for acceptance… She wagered the future of her entire race on that. She wagered your future on it. So strong was her faith in their kind that she gladly sacrificed her very life to ensure they survived just the way they are now. She placed you in the care of ponies, not your own kind, because she knew they would guide you better than any of us could. And she knew - she knew, without a shadow of a doubt - that when the time came, it would be a pony that pulled you back from the darkness haunting us. And she knew that pony would find you, one way or another. Like I said; insufferably optimistic.”

Trochanter turned, catching Applejack’s attention again. Her heart was starting to thump in her chest, though she didn’t know why. She felt like she was being accused of something embarrassing.

“Honestly,” Trochanter said, “I thought she was a fool. Over the years, I never detected any attempt by you to figure out who or what you were, and you better believe I had my ear to the ground all these years.. I couldn't even be positive you were still alive. If Vigil hadn't shown up, I wonder where we would be right now. And you accuse me of being reckless...

“Carnation had so much faith that you would find the one that would save you yourself that she felt no need to offer guidance, at least that is what I imagine. In fact, to do so ran the risk of tipping off your enemies, should they find the clues before you. And after what happened last night, I think you now know that it’s not just the Court that you need to be afraid of.”

He then sighed. “Perhaps she always believed Hyacinth would be there to protect you. But it seems you found your way into a group of perfectly capable mares, yourself. Resourceful bunch, they are.”

Applejack scowled even worse. “That’s… well that sounds dang reckless,” she grumbled. "All of this coulda been avoided if she just told me... or, left somethin'..."

Trochanter belted out a laugh so suddenly it made Applejack jump. “I told her as much, myself. But she never could be swayed, not when she’d made up her mind. You take after her in that way a little too well, I think.”

Applejack turned to face him. Though her heart felt fit to jump out of her throat, she swallowed, and spoke again. “You knew her,” she stated.

This was not a sudden revelation, but rather one that she’d had to work up the courage to confront. Certainly one could draw that conclusion just by hearing him talk.

Trochanter nodded, slowly, guardedly. “I did,” he did, choosing his words carefully now. He was gauging her, wondering where this was going.

Applejack started to ask something. She’d almost let the words slip passed her lips… but swallowed them at the last minute. She wasn’t sure she could handle what Trochanter would say.

Something in the old drone’s expression changed. A knowing look flashed through his eyes.

“She was strong,” he said. His words made Applejack jump and her breath catch. “And she loved you very, very much. To her, you were her entire world, before and after her heart came back to her. Without you, she never would have become the incredible mare she turned out to be. Never forget that.”

Applejack stared, eyes wide. Then, a brittle smile spread across her face, her expression screwing up. “...Thank ya.”

Trochanter smiled politely, then turned to face Ponyville again. “Carnation gave her life to give you the chance to rise above all others. To finally show us the way back into the light. And I am happy to say, you have done just that. At least, your hooves are on the path now. And it is all thanks to the resilience and compassion of those ponies down there.”

He glanced to the side, catching Applejack’s eye. “So that leaves a very important question: what will you do now?”

The wind rushed over the hill. The fur on her coat rustled. Her mane danced in the frantic waves of air. The ancient, disease-ridden tree creaked and rustled in the breeze.

When it passed, Applejack’s expression had changed.

“Ah think we both know,” she said.

Trochanted nodded. “Yes, I think I do,” he said. His expression was expertly unreadable, but Applejack just thought she caught a glimmer of approval in those tired old eyes. “Then, I will only say this, young lady. You are one of a kind. Unique. But that only means your path is one you are free to choose. Carnation’s plans for you end here. The rest is for you to decide. I know how intimidating that sounds, but if you are half the pony I know you to be, you’ll rise to the challenge.”

He turned, and started to amble away, apparently in no rush. “Well then, I will leave you to it. I’ve got a country to safeguard; the Court’ll be testing our defenses after this latest incident.”

As he moved through the swaying grass, away from Applejack, one last question came to mind, shouldering aside all the others.

“Trochanter,” she called, and he paused. Stiffly he turned, and eyed her questioningly.

Applejack bit her lip, then asked, “What ya told Twi’ about Steel Shod bein’... bein’ my other dad. Was that true?”

Trochanter blinked at her, then opened his mouth. Applejack braced, steeling her nerve for whatever he had to -

“Heck if I know,” he grunted, “But it stopped him, didn’t it?”

He grinned at her dumbstruck expression, then turned away again. With a wave of his horn, his form shimmered like a fading mirage, and he was gone. Some part of Applejack wondered if he’d ever actually been there in the first place, as when she looked, there were no hoofprints in the soft, springy grass beside her. It was like he hadn’t existed at all.



~~***~~



Halfway across the country, amid the majestic soaring towers of Canterlot, A disheveled brown pegasus mare hurriedly flapped her way down a richly decorated hallway. Her hooves full of papers that seemed to have a mind of their own, She kept having to pause to snatch up an escaping document or report before hurrying on again.

Finally she reached the end of the hallway and turned left towards a large oak door. After fumbling with her hooves and the jumbled up mess of papers for several seconds, she gave up and knocked her forehead against the well polished door, twice, sending her glasses more askew than usual.

“Come in,” came the tired response, and as if sensing the messenger’s burden, the door mercifully unlatched itself and swung inward.

“S-s-sorry for being late,” Peony said breathlessly.

“Nonsense,” responded a tired-looking old changeling seated in a plush red chair. “You’re just in time. I just wrapped up some other business..”

Peony smiled nervously, then flitted up to his table, and promptly dumped the contents of her hooves all over his desk.

“These are a-a-all of the rep-p-p,” her face scrunched up, “ports I could turn up, Spymaster.”

Trochanter leaned forward. He didn’t smell of wildflowers or an open grassy meadow. Instead, his breath was heavy with the smell of coffee as his horn lit, and a number of pieces of paper floated towards him. They revolved around him in shimmering green auras, allowing him time to scan briefly over each before sidling aside for the next.

As he read, Peony spoke, slowly this time to lessen her stutter.

“The ponies are wrapping up their investigation of Lord Bullion’s manor. They turned up some correspondents with some known changeling hate groups, and they’re chasing down a few leads. Given the extensive nature of Bullion’s contacts, it could take several months if not longer to unravel everything. Though by now, they are fairly confident they’ve got their pony.”

“Of course they are,” Trochanter sighed. With a wave of his hoof, he banished the sheets of paper to an orderly pile on one undisturbed corner of the room. He reclined back and put a hoof to his mouth thoughtfully. “And the medical reports?”

Peony nodded, as if to confirm something he already knew. “Traces of changeling magic were found in Bullion. Residual, but they seem to indicate a very long time of changeling influence. His family and lawyers are suppressing any information at the moment, though. I’m sure they’ll point to Princess Twilight Sparkle’s testimony of that unidentified crown being the culprit - that Bullion was just a pawn.”

Trochanter nodded. “Well, on that we can agree,” he said.

Peony nodded. “It’s worked itself out too perfectly. As careful as Bullion was, there’s too much evidence of his involvement flooding in now.”

“Then,” Trochanter said darkly, “All we have is the scapegoat. The real Bullion - the one responsible for attacking the princess and staging this ruse - is likely long gone. All we have is the pony he replaced.”

Peony’s eyes grew wide. “Then… that would mean the culprit was really a changeling, and that they are still at large.”

Trochanter nodded. “I’d wager he has been here ever since Phantasma died, just like Carnation’s hive fragmented and left some of its number here. That would explain where all the holes in our defenses have been coming from; we’ve had a sleeper agent in our midst for years and never knew it. It’s quite brilliant, really; if he ever got caught, all he had to do was use the pony he’d replaced as the red herring, and fade into the shadows. Then, he’d switch places with somepony else, maybe even the same pony after it was determined that they’d been influenced by something or somepony, and pick up where he left off. And his lofty place among the aristocracy kept him above general scrutiny, not to mention his replacement would have happened so long ago no one would be paying attention for a shift in personality now. A changeling strategy, through and through.”

Peony nodded, “He must have been waiting for the moment to fulfill Phantasma’s work; to turn Equestria into a changeling feeding ground. Nopony devotes most of their life to something without some sort of goal, and only a Queen could drive a drone to such extremes. For him to remain in Equestria for years, he must have been up to something. But I'm guessing Applejack changed his plans, made him sloppy.”

Trochanter sighed. His brows, already deeply furrowed canyons, grew deeper and grimmer. “If only it were that simple…”

Peony gave him a worried look. “Sir?”

“This opens up a whole new spectrum of complications,” he grunted. “Who knows how many affluent ponies are really Phantasma’s insurgents in disguise, installed at a time when there’d be no reason to suspect them? And if there are any, they will be on guard now. Tracking them down will be a challenge.”

A darker cloud fell over his features. “But the uncharacteristic boldness, like they are trying to get caught… all those years of careful tip-toing, thrown away so brazenly. I don't like it. Unless…”

Peony chewed her lip. She’d learned to let Trochanter mull in peace when he was like this. If he wanted to include her, he would in due time. That being said, she had a bad feeling she knew where his train of thought was going.

The sloppiness came at too perfect a time, and when changelings were involved, coincidences rarely happened. If that was the case, what if it hadn't been the imposter that tipped his hand, but an unseen, third party who tipped it for them, one that was being infinitely more discrete?

There was only one party that jumped to mind, and just the idea of their involvement was confusing… and deeply troubling.

Trochanter had many questions, and he hated not being the one with those answers. When one lived in the dark, seedy grotto that was the changeling world, not knowing things was liable to get one killed. Playing with all the cards was the only way to keep on top, especially when the gazes of queens fell on them. This, more than anything, was the adhesive that kept the Court from pulling itself apart. Only together did they have all the cards. And so their internal cold war had been maintained, just as Phantasma designed it.

But now there was Applejack. And the whole system was showing signs of strain. Peony could sense it. Trochanter could sense it. An upheaval was coming. Or… it was already underway.

Whatever the case, Trochanter knew this was not over. The day had been won, the darkness thrown back again. But the dawn wasn't breaking yet. And with Phantasma’s Corastone out of their reach, it was only a matter of time before they were revisited by that spectre again. Only next time, she would have had time to consolidate her strength. A frightening idea, to be sure.

“Sounds like we’re g-going to huh-have our hooves full,” Peony said. She was smiling slightly, expectantly.

Trochanter glanced at her, then dropped his hoof. He chuckled, a more authentic grin spreading across his tired old features. “So it would seem,” he chortled. Then, he rose from his chair.

His mind sloughed the dark thoughts like one might shed a heavy, burdensome coat. Instead, it came alive with other paths of inquiry, firing off like a power cord spitting sparks.

His smile broadened. The idea of a challenge invigorated him, making him feel ten years younger. He rolled his neck, then trotted around the desk. “Peony, be a dear and fetch my coat. We’ve got work to do. We can't let a few mares show up us professionals, can we?”

Peony beamed, then threw a salute. “Aye, aye, sir!” she turned, and quickly darted from the room.

Trochanter continued trotting forward after Peony disappeared. Then, he took a detour, arriving instead in front of a full length mirror shoved away in one corner of the room.

He eyed the tired old thing glowering back at him for a moment. It didn't exactly strike him as the most friendly appearance in the world. He was liable to scare the fur off a Manticore looking like that. A change was in order, he thought.

A brief flash of green fire, and his tried and true pony form reasserted itself. And immediately he felt in a better mood. It was practically conditioned.

Unlike whoever had been masquerading as Bullion, Trochanter felt no need to hijack somepony else’s life to achieve one’s goal. It was amatuer, lazy even. Trochanter preferred to create his own identity, and then trick others into thinking he’d been there all along, hiding in plain sight, right dead center in the spotlight without anyone ever being any the wiser.

He smiled, and the reflection  grinned broadly back. He turned away, and together they trotted from the room, ready to take on the world.



~~***~~



The sun was high in the sky by the time Applejack reached her next destination. By then, the summer heat had really set in, and the sunlight beat down from overhead remorselessly.

Applejack took shelter from the heat under a fur tree, one of many lining a sleepy forest valley that suddenly found itself host to quite a bit of activity. She watched with no small amount of fascination as living tree houses shambled their way over a nearby hill, which only a few hours ago had been used as the last line of defense of the Royal Guard - against her.

The thought churned her gut, but she pushed it away. Instead, she watched as so many of those houses were settled into new locations. She could see new blocks taking shape, with avenues for new streets and generous gaps for gardens and parks underneath the enchanted village canopy. It was remarkable to watch so many coordinating with very little interruption, like the hive had long ago scoped out this very basin, drawn up plans, and practiced these very maneuvers.

Whether there was already growth in the way seemed totally inconsequential: any trees that stood where a house wanted to be were simply incorporated into the building itself. More than a few entryways found themselves accentuated by new elegant trusses and decorative eaves.

All of these houses were clustering around the base of that gigantic crystal spire, which  practically glowed like a shaft of rose quartz against the sky.

Standing at the base of it, the structure seemed to defy reality, rising up impossibly high into the sky. Its shape alone seemed to laugh in the face of physics, given its many crooks and spindly zig-zags that somehow held up a massive crystalline formation atop its summit that by itself was big enough to be a modest cathedral.

Applejack also noticed the countless crystal shards lying all around her, embedded deep into the earth where they’d fallen. Some were no bigger than a boulder. others were monolithic in size, dwarfing every tree around them. Even away from direct sunlight, they glowed pink, and Applejack could tell they were having some sort of effect on the land.

Pure white flowers bloomed all across the broken fragments, spreading on ivory vines. The flowers were unlike anything Applejack had ever seen before: small, delicate, with six heart-shaped petals and a pink center. They released a faint, yet pleasant aroma that already permeated the valley. Some of the crystal shards were developing the strangest growths - twining, glassy spindles that rose like creeper vines into the air. It was like the shards were... growing.

Several drones were scuttling around some of these fragments, sniffing them warily and squeaking apprehensively, as if expecting them to leap up and devour them.

Some drones, Applejack saw, were merely sitting in place, looking around with strangely listless expressions, or looks of wonder. The more Applejack looked, the more she noticed this behavior - changelings, seemingly without direction, meandering about aimlessly. Normally the hive was such a bustling, purposeful place: everyone had a task, be it business or pleasure. Rarely had she seen drones just kicking back and taking it easy, but now she noticed them everywhere.

Something about this onset of listlessness worried Applejack, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her own new form had something to do with it. Drones were bound to their queen - this she knew, no matter how much she disliked it. But if something happened to that paradigm… what then?

‘What now’, corrected a small voice in the back of her head.

Before she could pursue that thought much further down its rabbit hole, the sound of fluttering feathers reached her ears. Applejack turned, eyes looking for a flash of blue for some reason, but instead she found herself looking towards the familiar purple shape of Twilight as she set herself down on the grass a little clumsily.

“There you are,” Twilight said as she regained her footing, then trotted over to her. As she did, she cast a glance this way and that, looking for somepony who wasn’t there. “Um… have you seen Rainbow Dash?”

Applejack blinked. For a fraction of a second, a dark sense of concern flew through her head, but was quickly washed away. “Can’t say Ah have. Why?” she asked.

Twilight huffed, her expression turning sour. Just that look gave Applejack all the answers she needed, and she had to suppress the urge to laugh at the look on her friend’s face. “The doctor told her she was on bed rest! You know, for a pony that loves to laze around, you'd think that wouldn't be so hard!”

Applejack couldn’t keep her snort in. .

Twilight eyed her in a way that made Applejack a little uncomfortable. “It’s weird, though. After how hard she worked to reach you yesterday, I could have sworn I’d find her here.”

Applejack tried to be flippant about it, but inside she was swatting down those nasty thoughts again - what if something happened to her? What if someone attacked her and now she’s hurt and bleeding and  - she cut it off right then and there, thank you very much.

She did recall the look Rainbow had given her that morning, though. How wide her eyes had been, and how red she'd looked. But again, Applejack discarded the thought.

“Ah’m sure she’ll turn up,” Applejack said with a wry grin. “She always does.”

She reached up and touched her chest. For a moment, she thought the wind seemed strangely louder, whistling in her ears, over her body… But it was just her imagination. Still, the worries fell silent after that, as if getting the answer they wanted and skulking back to whatever dark hole that’d spawned them.

For a while, she and Twilight stood under the fur tree and gazed up at the crystal spire Applejack had somehow created. It wasn’t that they had nothing to say - they had all too much, really, but no way to know where to start.

Applejack reached up absently to correct her hat, but found her hooves swatting open air. Right… it’d been blown away.

The silence seemed to stretch on and on, until Applejack started to feel herself slip into that thinking hole she’d grown tired of. But just as thoughts started to swirl in her head that she didn’t have answers for, Twilight spoke up. “Um, Applejack?”

She turned, and noticed the look Twilight was giving her. Unbeknownst to her, Twilight had been fidgeting restlessly throughout the silence. Not because she’d had too much to say and not the words to start saying them like Applejack had thought, but because she had one thing to say and too many words to say it. But finally she’d parsed it down, and finally opened her mouth to finally say what she’d wanted to say.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” she said. That simple statement seemed to open the floodgates, because right behind it was a stream of other words. “And, if you need to talk, or just need to get something off your chest, or need help with anything, just ask, okay? Me, and the rest of the girls, too, will be there for you. I just want to make sure you know that. You don't have to go through this on your own.”

Applejack blinked, taken aback by the flood of words she’d just been pelted with. Then she smiled. And it felt like one of the most genuine ones she given all day. “Thanks, Twi’,” she said.

Both of them knew Applejack probably wouldn’t take her up on her offer, Applejack being the bullheaded individual that she was. But just having the offer given was reassuring in a way Applejack needed at the moment, without realizing she did.

Applejack turned away again, her eyes casting up to the summit of the spire. A thought occurred to her then, and she turned back to Twilight. “Actually, Ah was wonderin’ if ya could do something fer me.”

Twilight looked honestly taken by surprise. She blinked, jumping a little, then smile. “Of course! What do you need?”

Applejack smiled, repressing a laugh, then jerked her head in the direction of the spire. “Ah was wonderin’ if ya could help me up there.”

Twilight’s smile softened, her horn illuminating. “Sure thing.”



~~***~~



The view from the summit was second to none. With the walls blown out of the pyramid-shaped formation topping it, Applejack could see far and wide, to the very curvature of the planet rimming places unknown. She could see what must’ve been the Canterhorn, proud and regal in the distance. The dense cloud formation far to the west could have been Cloudsdale, thought it was impossible to know for sure. To the north, she thought she could just see a silvery crescent marking the rim of the Frozen North. To the south, the land turned steadily more and more brown, before fading away into a hazy slash of sandy gold. Her eyes lingered on that golden crest for a time before she moved on.

Everywhere in between were forests, marshes, glittering lakes, green meadows, the subtle irregularities of cities. When Applejack looked to the southwest, she just thought she could see a huge bulge in the Everfree’s endless treetops - a dome marking the forgotten, hushed grave of Freedom.

All of these things she could see, or at least imagined she could see, from atop her crystal throne room. her throne room. The thought didn’t quite sit well with her, like a gift she hadn’t particularly wanted.

The crystals were strangely, but not unpleasantly, warm to the touch, and even magically oblivious Applejack could feel an undercurrent of power here. She continuously got the feeling that she was at the heart of some great engine, whose power churned and hummed ceaselessly all around her, relaxed but ever in motion. What it was doing, where it was going, she had no idea, but the feeling never went away.

After a moment, she turned towards the center of the throne room - the center of everything here, she felt. There, she found a crystal formation more elaborate than any others, sitting directly in the middle of the angular room. It was bowled in the center, as if meant to be sat in or laid down upon. It was certainly big enough for her to sprawl in, even in her new form.

Applejack could actually see it shifting right in front of her eyes: spokes of crystal grew and receded, as if the thing couldn’t quite make up its mind on what its final shape should be.

Over this strange throne, the roof suddenly and quite spectacularly thrust downward with a thousand spikes and shafts of crystal. The effect was a wide fan of radial spokes,  some representation of a sunrise, all pointing at the throne - and the crystal heart slowly revolving over it.

One look at the heart-shaped diamond and one couldn’t help but draw comparisons with the one hundreds of miles to the north, sitting passively beneath the palace of the Crystal Empire. Except for a few crucial differences, one might say they were identical, at least in shape and size.

The difference, however, was its color.

Where the Crystal Heart in the north was a peerless and uniform shade of blue, this one shined a brilliant orange. One lobe of its heart-shaped structure was strangely incongruent, and though the seam was flawlessly fused to the rest of the body, one could tell it hadn’t been a part of the whole originally. This lobe swirled with a dozen colors, seemingly liquid beneath its hard surface. The whole thing glittered with countless hues as it slowly revolved - sometimes blue, sometimes red, sometimes purple.

It also seemed somehow less stable than the Crystal Empire variant, too. Where that one merely revolved and appeared to do little else, the one floating before Applejack’s eyes regularly pulsed with a clearly visible light that didn’t ripple through the air, but did course through the walls and spires and floor all around her. A burning, pink aura seemed to engulf it, too thin to be flames, but too active to be smoke. Sometimes it flared up, then calmed again.

Despite its eccentricities, Applejack felt nothing but calm comfort at the sight of it. Nothing about it struck him as wrong, or unsightly, or dangerous in any way.

Applejack was so busy watching the thing slowly turn round and round that she forgot she wasn’t alone, not until she heard the glassy clip-clop of hooves behind her.

Standing behind her, Twilight looked around with eyes filled with wonder. Every sight she beheld only seemed to make her eyes dance more, like every single facet in the walls held untold mysteries she simply had to unravel. “This is a pretty amazing place you’ve got here,” she remarked as she approached.

Applejack gave a sheepish grin and averted her gaze. “Oh, uh… thanks, Ah guess.” She turned back around, rubbing her shoulder. “Um… So, How was Rainbow doin’, anyway? Did ya get those tests back yet?”

Twilight chuckled. She’d figured she’d ask sooner or later. “Considering what she’d gone through, she’s got quite a bit of pep in her.”

Applejack nodded, her grin morphing into a smirk. Did she look almost… proud? “Don’t Ah know it. But…. Phantasma took a big chunk outta her—magically speakin’, of course. Ah could feel it. Ah just wanna make sure she’s okay.”

Twilight nodded in understanding. “Well, the doctors did find something off. Nothing bad,” she added quickly, seeing Applejack’s look. “I doubt it’s anything we need to worry about, actually.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t in the mood for beating around the bush.

Twilight trotted up to the edge of the throne room, and cast her gaze out over the endless expanses of the countryside. After a moment, Applejack trotted over, aware of the way her hooves echoed in the chamber, and the way the crystal seemed to glow slightly whenever her hooves touched it, but not Twilight’s.

She took a seat beside Twilight, who was gazing down over Ponyville, over the trees of the distant Everfree and out towards the limitless horizon. From here, one really could see just about everything.

“There’s a trace of magic mingled with hers now,” she mentioned. “Nopony’s ever seen anything like it; foreign, yet self-replicating, as if linked to some external source. Without it, Rainbow would be in really bad shape right now - the doctors don't think she'd even be able to fly.” She glanced to Applejack. “I think I know exactly what—or who—that external source is.”

Applejack’s sheepish grin was back, drawing a bemused grin from Twilight. “You’re blushing,” Twilight teased.

Applejack punched her shoulder, nearly toppling her. “Am not. Everythin' looks pink up here, that’s all.”

Twilight giggled and righted herself. “Okay, okay. Anyway, for now, it seems largely dormant, but there’s no telling what the magic you two share can do.”

Applejack sighed. She raised a hoof and looked into it. “Well, that ain’t news ta me,” she said. “Ah don’t need ta tell you how magic ‘n me get along. Ain’t nothin’ but a mystery as far as Ah’m concerned. Don't really matter what kind it is.”

Twilight gave her a sympathetic smile.

“But…,” Applejack went on, and her brows knotted now. “Ah… can feel it. It’s different, peaceful. Like… Ah don’t know. It kinda feels like… that feelin’ ya get when ya get a hug from somepony ya care about, or when we’re hangin’ out with the girls, only… different. It ain’t easy ta put into words.”

She gave up and furiously rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed. “Argh, it don’t make a lick of sense, but if Ah had ta put it ta words, that’s what it’d be like, Ah guess.”

She put her hoof down and turned to Twilight, who’s grin was growing bigger. “What?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight giggled. “Applejack, do you know what you just did?”

Applejack’s eyebrow went up. “Uh… you mean talk? Ah do it all the time.”

Twilight giggled again. “No, silly. How you just described your magic is exactly how I’d describe it.”

“Ah ain’t followin’.”

“Applejack,” Twilight said with a smile that was a touch exasperated now. “You can sense it! You can feel your own magic, but beyond that, you can make sense of it. Do you know what that means?”

Applejack gave her a flat look. “No Twi’, Ah don’t, but Ah get the funniest feelin’ y’all are about ta tell me.”

“It means,” Twilight said, now definitely exasperated, “you and your magic are in tune! Before you had only enough of a grasp on it to know it was there. But now, you are able to understand it. You can reach down, feel it, quantify it. I know that doesn’t mean much to you right now, but that’s a very important first step. For unicorns, it’s the first sign of somepony gaining control of their magic!”

Applejack blinked. “Uh… that’s… great?” she said, sounding a little nonplussed.

Twilight beamed, unfazed by Applejack’s uncertainty. “It means, with some practice, maybe you can start using magic!”

“…Why?”

Twilight just stared at her. “What?”

“Why?” Applejack repeated simply. “Ah got four perfectly good hooves. What would Ah need magic for?”

Twilight opened her mouth, took a breath to launch into the mother of all lectures. Her friend, inheritor of an ancient, forgotten magic the likes of which nopony had ever seen before, wondering what use it was to learn to control it?! Oh she was gearing up for a dozy of a rant… but stopped. “Ugh… you know what? Never mind. We’ll figure that out some other time.”

Then she smiled. “I think I like normal Applejack more, anyway.”

Applejack smiled back, then turned to look out over Ponyville again. A warm summer breeze toyed with her mane and carried the scents of the forest through the open chamber. It was a refreshing smell laden with pine needles and warm wood. Maybe she had been a mindless monster, but she'd picked a beautiful place to be one.

“How do you feel?” Twilight asked.



Applejack didn’t respond at first. She sat still, her expression unreadable. Then, quite unexpectedly, she changed. Twilight looked up, eyes huge, at the tall figure seated beside her. Applejack didn't look, but she felt her friend's amazed stare all the same.

 “Honestly? Ah’m the first changelin’ in ten thousand years not ta be carryin’ around Amora’s curse. The magic inside me only barely feels like the changelin’ magic Ah’ve spent my whole life with. Thinkin’ like that, it’s easy ta see Phantasma was right; Ah… am alone in the world.”

She glanced to her side, as if suddenly realizing Twilight was there. “Er, sorry. Ah didn’t mean ta put it like that. Ah got a lot on my mind right now, Ah guess.”

Twilight gave her a worried look. “You… don’t really believe that, do you? You’re not alone, you know that, right?”

Applejack snorted, a rueful grin sprouting on her face. “Oh don’t you worry about that, Twi’. Ah know good and well Ah ain’t.” She glanced up, raising her head towards the horizon. “At least… Ah don’t want to be.”

She said that last part so quietly, it was like she’d said it only to herself. Twilight had nearly missed it, and for some reason, it caused a lump to form in her throat. Twilight followed her gaze, and spotted the object of her attention; a prismatic bolt arcing through the heavens, trajectory aimed straight at them.

After seeing, she nonchalantly glanced to the side, and saw Applejack’s expression had softened. Twilight had never seen her look quite that relaxed, or the tiny smile that graced her lips. Seeing it, Twilight knew Applejack’s fears, as well as her own, did not matter. Applejack would be just fine, of that she had no doubt anymore.

“Welp, guess it’s time,” Applejack said. She rose off the ground and stood up straight.

Twilight gave her a worried look. Time? Time for what?”

Applejack rose to her new impressive height. Her wings, usually ignored, whipped out and tested the air with a few thrumming beats. They were powerful enough to buffet Twilight, forcing her to squint.

Twilight’s concern mounted. “Applejack, what are you going to do?”

Applejack looked out towards the horizon. She wasn't smiling anymore, nor did she look apprehensive. Applejack had never looked so serious in her whole life. “Only one way ta make sure this doesn’t happen again.” She looked Twilight dead in the eye then, absolutely serious. “This is somethin’ Ah gotta do, Twi’. Fer me, everypony and everyone else.”

Twilight’s face fell. She could see it in her eyes: there would be no arguing allowed. “Well, alright. Just… if you see him…”

A lump rose in Applejack’s throat, but she still nodded. “Don’t you worry, Twi’. Ah’ll make sure ta give him a punch in the face just fer you.”

“That’s not…,” Twilight started to protest, even tapping a hoof in a weak stamping motion, then frowned. “Never mind. But if you do see him, make sure you bring him back. He’s… he’s got a lot to answer for. For what he did to you and Agave, I mean.”

She started to trot away, then slowed to a stop. She sighed, then glanced over her shoulder and gave a small smile. “Guess you’re not the only one with a lot on their mind,” she commented.

Applejack looked at her, but said nothing. She continued to look at her, even as Twilight vanished in a burst of purple light, leaving Applejack alone again.



~~***~~



Applejack waited impatiently for Equestria’s self-proclaimed fasted flyer to take her sweet time coming in for a landing. When she finally did touch down, it was almost two pony lengths away.

“Um…” Rainbow started, not quite meeting Applejack’s eye. “Er…”

On the way over, she’d practiced a hundred totally awesome things to say.

Hey, babe. Long time no see. What's say you and me blow this popsicle stand and get out of here and have ourselves a good time.

Yeah, something like that would be awesome for sure, grade-A stuff, without question. And then she'd seen Applejack - the new and improved Applejack - and forgot every last word of it.

So, she brought her B-game.

“Hey.”

Applejack quirked a smile. “That the best you got, sugarcube?”

“Look, I'm trying, okay?” Rainbow blustered. “this whole… this whole…” She waved her hoof between them. “this whole... it's new territory for me, okay?”

It didn't help that her head just went blank again the moment she laid eyes on her. She was so tall and strong and... and…

"Uh, sugarcube?”

Applejack looked at her, somewhat perplexed about why Rainbow was suddenly covering her face with both of her wings.

"U-Uh, Hey AJ? C-Could I get you to do me a solid? Could you maybe, uh, um… maybe, turn into a pony?”

Applejack frowned, confused. “Rainbow? Is somethin’ wrong?”

Then, a thought hit her. The last time Rainbow had looked at her, she’d bolted. Then, like now, Applejack had not been disguised. She had been in her new, strange form. And Rainbow had run from her. Now she couldn't even look at her.

A lump formed in Applejack’s throat, as did a spike of pain in her chest.

“Do… do Ah look…” she tried to say, but she couldn't mumble more than that.

Rainbow swallowed. She was still hiding her face. “You’re… you look…” And then, in a voice so low it squeaked, “You’re… really pretty…”

The moment she said it, Rainbow turned as red as a tomato, from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. She squirmed on the spot, hooves doing a little dance on the floor. “Celestia, this is so… not… awesome…”

Applejack blinked at her, disarmed. “What?”

True to form, Rainbow jolted to all fours. Her wings flew open and she snarled angrily while still spectacularly crimson.

“I said you’re stupidly pretty, you stupid… bugbrain… stupid head! Is that what you wanted me to say? Huh?! That just looking at your stupid face makes me feel all these stupid things like stupid butterflies and stupid stuff like that! Is that what you want me to say, stupid? Cuz you’re the prettiest stupid thing in the whole stupid world and… and… Oh forget it!” she finished, and kissed her.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that Applejack froze, completely and utterly. Rainbow cleared the distance between them in a split second, and mashed her face against hers. 

In the history of kisses, this was probably the least romantic one ever delivered. It barely even qualified as a kiss, and could have been described better as a collision of muzzles, instead. All Applejack remembered about it was not the taste, or the feel. It was the heat of Rainbow’s burning cheeks that she would recall forevermore. That, and the serendipitous explosion in her chest.

She was left struck dumb, even when Rainbow pulled back, looking furious even as she blushed harder.

“Stupid,” she accused one more time from just hair's breadth away. “S-so hurry up and change so I can think straight.”

Applejack nodded dumbly, then in a flash of green light, she was once again an earth pony, staring blankly at Rainbows hooves instead of her face.

It took her a moment, but eventually Rainbow set herself down, and turned the other direction. She sat down hard, wings expanded, still red in the face. “Dang it…” she mumbled angrily. “it's not helping…”

She threw a hoof back at Applejack without turning around. “Stop being pretty!”

“Like Ah can help that!” Applejack snapped defensively. Color was starting to rise in her cheeks, now.

Silence rose after that. They both stood, hearts fluttering uncontrollably, no words to fill the void.

After several minutes, Applejack started to move. She trotted over carefully, then sat down next to Rainbow.

The pegasus was determinedly looking towards the horizon, her expression twisting up.

“Ah don't know about this whole…” Applejack started motioning between them. “This whole, either. So ya don't have ta say nothin’.”

She leaned against Rainbow’s shoulder. The shoulder she relied so much on for strength, for support. “Just… don’t push me away. Ah don’t think Ah could handle that right now.”

Rainbow finally turned to look at her. Her expression was a complicated mess of emotions, most hiding behind a defensive anger that came from nothing.

Applejack just smiled at her. Rainbow never had to explain herself to her. Well, this time, anyway. She leaned in, and the two rested their heads on one another. No words were needed after that.

Rainbow wing wrapped around her. The wind came up to tease Applejack’s mane and drone in her ears. But for a moment, up there where no one could see them, Applejack felt… at peace.

Rainbow sighed and relaxed into her. “You scared me, Applejack. I thought… I thought I couldn't save you.”

She pressed herself harder into Applejack’s side. Her warmth radiated through Rainbow, calming her nerves.

“So, whatever happens from here on, we do it together. You and me.” For the first time, she looked up, and met Applejack’s gaze. “And… I still haven't forgotten our promise, you know. You, me, and the mountains.”

Applejack smiled. It was almost too much for Rainbow. “Thank ya, Rainbow. For everything.”

Applejack straightened up. Rainbow rose with her.
The smile on her face drifted away. Applejack turned to the scenery, her expression turning serious. “But there’s somethin’ we need to do, first.”

Rainbow nodded, sobering up as well. “Just tell me what you need me to do. We’ll work out the details later.”

Applejack chuckled. “It ain't gonna work like that this time, sugarcube.”

She sighed and turned to the horizon again. She cast her gaze over Equestria, as if studying it. “Ah put this off long enough. Ah was kidding myself thinking Ah’d never have to, Ah guess.”

Rainbow bumped her and gave her a questioning look. “Are you planning what I think you’re planning?” she asked.

Applejack smiled, and nodded. “Somepony’s gotta confront them, RD. Show them there is another way. Ah know it don't seem like it, but they are still my family. And… and Apples never give up on family.”

Rainbow pulled a face. “Even if they are really totally super evil and probably deserve an epic beatdown or ten?”

Applejack smirked. “especially then.”

Rainbow sighed exaggeratedly. “Well, can't rest on our laurels, I guess.” She then smiled, fire in her eyes. “Lead the way, bugbrain. I got your back.”

Applejack chuckled, then after a thought, she pecked Rainbow on the nose.

Rainbow blinked, then turned molten red again. “Why would you do that!?” she squealed.

Applejack just laughed as she led the way. It felt good to laugh. Because she knew what came next was not going to be a laughing matter at all.

 
> Chapter 27: Advent of a New Age
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was stifling in the throne room. hot and humid, and very, very dark.

Water dripped quietly from ancient stalactites that rose like monstrous fangs from the ceiling and floor. The steady drip, drip, drip mingled with a distant, muffle stirring deep down in some molten chasm in the earth.

Thirteen spires of black marble and jagged obsidian rose from the depthless chasm below, crooked and uneven, like the bent spokes of a crown. Thirteen thrones rose from these thirteen spires, each a cold representation of who they belonged to. Some were drizzled with melted wax from countless candles. Some were cocooned in dark green glassy formations, like living nightmares not yet matured. Some were draped in things best left undescribed. All were arranged around a jutting platform that rose well below their lofty perches.

There was no floor beneath that. Just an empty, yawning chasm that plunged down… down… down into noxious depths that rumbled with slumbering earthly fury. Acidic fumes rose from the disquited depths, glowing with the green, copper-fed flames from the deeps. The faint emerald light cast from below was all the illumination granted, and it was too faint for regular ponies to ever make use of.

But for those with sensitive eyes, one might discern the shapes of the thrones, and the predatory glimmer of eyes coming from many of them.

They all sat quietly, with the exception of one - her private tittering and giggling wore on the nerves of the others - and waited in total silence.

The sound of approaching hooves drew their attention. Even the manic whisperer hushed.

From further down, a point of light emerged. It grew and grew until one could make out an entryway far away, and the long staircase that rose towards the thirteen thrones.

All eyes watched as a strange creature made her way up the stairs, escorted by a pair of changeling guards. Their horns lit the way, casting just enough light to show the path and give the shadows definition, but nothing more. Halfway up the stairs, and the walls fell into darkness, leaving only the volcanic stone walkway and the solidified, glassy green mucus reinforcements as the sole object visible.

Their hooves echoed loudly, giving the impression of an immense space, though it was not clear how immense. The light cast by the horns of the escorts cast a faint, reflective glimmer high above, as if catching on some irregular, glistening surface that surrounded the space, just out of sight. A glass dome, perhaps, or something far more abstract.

When the party reached the top, both guards stepped aside, and let Queen Applejack take center stage. She noticed them skirt around her, as if she was physically too hot to be too close to.

No announcement had been made. No messenger dispatched. Applejack had noted all of this. And yet here they all were. It was like they all had been waiting for her. Waiting for this moment all along. Some cynical part of Applejack’s mind wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.

Finally, a voice broke the humid, sulfurous air.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't the prodigal daughter, herself.”

Applejack scowled at the voice. It was the same voice she had heard at the royal wedding all those months ago. The one that had started all of this, in a manner of speaking. Hearing it again made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Queen Chrysalis lounged on the tallest throne spire of all, clearly setting herself as the loftiest of all the queens present. Though no pony would be able to make her out at all, Applejack could just make out her lanky shadow, and the predatory gleam reflecting in her slitted eyes - a pair of greenish stars in the dark. Applejack could not make out her expression, but she had a fair enough idea of what it might be. She could almost hear the smirk on her face with every word she spoke.

“So nice of you to finally pay the rest of your family a visit,” Chrysalis said, a sly grin on her voice. “I was starting to think you didn’t really care about us.”

The mad tittering began again, this time taking the form of barely repressed giggles coming from one particular throne.

“To bad, so sad. Yes, yes… no time to prepare, no time for presents, no, no…” chattered a raspy female voice from the gloom. “Make something special for her next time, yes, yes. Very special… melt the flesh from her bones next time… oh yes, yes… No, no…. Pustules! Yes… yes...”

“Cease your gibbering, Cerbera,” snapped a terse voice from another throne, the one on Chrysalis’ immediate right. “Really, what a disgraceful creature you are.”

The voice belonging to Cerbera quieted, but did not stop. She continued to mutter darkly, carrying on a full-blown conversation with herself.

Applejack eyed the throne Cerbera’s voice came from. She could make out the form of a queen, but she was too shrouded in darkness for any other details. All Applejack could really determine was a furtive sense of motion, a manic sort of jittering that, though she could not make sense of it, caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up further.

Her throne, appeared to be… glistening… as if it were wet, or made from something… fleshy. She very much didn’t want to find out which it was.

“You will have to forgive Queen Cerbera,” Chrysalis said, her voice filling the stuffy air. “She is… excitable. She’s had a tough run of things, you see. Knocked a few screws loose.”

A startlingly guttural snarl rent the air. At first, Applejack couldn’t tell where it came from, until Cerbera began speaking, her voice low and husky, almost feral.

“Down in the cold dark we fled. Down in the cold dark we bled. Down in the cold dark we fled. Down in the cold dark it fed ….”

She snorted, and was suddenly wrapped up in her own conversation about the pros and cons of tumors, as if not noticing what she’s just snarled out.

Applejack said nothing, but she continued to warily eye the point where Cerbera’s grumbling was coming from. Apparently her own conversation wasn't going in her favor.

“See?” Chrysalis said. “She’s fine. Pay her no mind.”

Applejack wasn’t too convinced by that. But all the same, she redirected her attention back to Chrysalis.

“I must say, I am rather curious,” Chrysalis said pleasantly. “Frankly I never thought you'd muster up the courage to venture out of your precious Equestria. I’m sure your hive has made it plenty clear what awaited you beyond its borders, where all your pretty little safeguards couldn’t keep us out.”

In the gloom, Applejack noticed Chrysalis lean towards her, her long neck craning over her, mane hanging like a torn banner in the open air.

“Which leads me to believe you have some business with me.”

Applejack could feel the tension stirring around her. The queens were all giving her their undivided attention now. Even Cerbera paused to gauge the situation. Of all the gazes she felt the hardest, though, it was the one atop the Queen of Queens’ throne.

“Ah do,” Applejack said. She would not be deterred so easily, not after coming this far, and she was impressed by how level she sounded. She hardly felt the same way.

“Oh?” Chrysalis said back. Applejack just thought she caught the glimmer of a fanged smile. “Do tell, sweetie.”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed. It was clear to her that Chrysalis was thoroughly unimpressed by her. Though she would not admit it aloud, standing in Chrysalis’s presence again was just as nerve-wracking as the first time. She exuded menace, like a hungry panther watching it's cornered prey. This, Applejack’s gut told her, was not someone to be trifled with. And though she had utterly dismissed Applejack as a threat, as evident by her relaxed posture, she was under no delusion that Chrysalis would end her life without ceremony right then and there, if she had half a mind to.

But Applejack was not about the back down in the face of her leer. Compared to Phantasma, and the nightmare she’d been put through, Chrysalis was hardly frightening. Applejack hadn’t come to cower.

“Ah came ta give y’all a message,” she stated.

That got the queens tittering.

“A message, she says!” cried a haughty voice from Applejack’s right, making her start. “Ho ho! Is her hive so incompetent that she must take up such menial tasks as errands? What a dreadful state of affairs. Can’t even muster a messenger to do it properly! Oh dear, oh dear...”

“Ah came because Ah wanted to,” Applejack said, raising her voice to be heard over the murmuring. “If Ah have somethin’ ta say, Ah’ll be the one ta say it.” she added, casting a look around the gathered queens looming over her. “Besides… Ah get the feelin’ this meetin’ has been long overdo.”

Another, bubbly voice cooed from her left. “Aw, isn't that precious. Such a straightforward way of thinking. So very honest.”

“You mean naive,” countered the terse voice again. “Such a simple minded approach is unbefitting a queen of any stature. Even one of hers.”

Applejack glanced at the source of that voice.

Of all the thrones, this was the most angular. It was straight-backed, precise in shape and function. And strangely, it appeared to be… reinforced. Applejack couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but it was not crystalline mucus or stone, but something that glinted with a different, metallic light.

Atop the throne, a queen sat, equally straight, equally rigid and statuesque. Whoever this was, Applejack could not tell, but she could feel her contempt rolling off of her like an arctic frost.

“Ladies, ladies,” Chrysalis sighed, and the congregation of queens fell quiet. “Let her speak. She has come a very long way to tell us something of remarkable importance, I’m sure.”

Applejack started to open her mouth to speak when she was interrupted.

“Ah, but do try to pick your words with some care, my dear,” Chrysalis mentioned. She sounded as conversational as before, if maybe a touch derisive. But Applejack heard the threat in her tone loud and clear. “You aren’t wrong. This meeting has been a long time in the making. We do have much to discuss. But sooner or later…” Applejack almost felt the smile slip from her lips. “Even the best jokes stop being funny. So… do mind how you deliver the punchline.”

Maybe it was Applejack’s imagination, but the room seemed to get ten degrees colder all of a sudden.

Chrysalis deliberately crossed her front hooves, taking a moment to study Applejack. “First impressions are very important, my dear,” she chortled. “So please. Continue.”

Applejack tried not to gulp. Her heart fluttered, a chill threatening to crack her composure.

It’s okay…

She took a breath. She steadied her.

’I’m right here… You got this…’, said a small, voiceless sound in her head.

Applejack let her breath out.

“Then, Ah’ll get to the point. Ah came here ta tell ya… Ah am sorry.”

That took the proverbial rug right out from under everyone.

“I'm sorry?” Chrysalis said, blinking once. She even cleaned out her ear with one hoof before adding, “What did you say?”

“Not making sense, no, no,” Cerbera muttered to herself. “Must be touched in the head. Yes, yes…”

“As if you have room to talk,” muttered another queen.

“It speaks to me. Why does it speak to me? Should we make it quiet? Swell her tongue, make her choke on it...”

“Enough,” Chrysalis snapped. Her eyes stayed in Applejack, only now they were narrowed. She wasn’t in a teasing mood anymore.

“You came all this way… to say you’re sorry,” she repeated, deadpan.

Applejack nodded. “Well, that’s the gist of it,” she said. “Cuz of me, everythin’s been gettin’ out of hoof. Ah can't rightly blame ya, not after what Phantasma did. Somepony new comin’ in and changin’ things… after her, Ah understand why y’all are gettin’ yer hackles up. So, Ah’m sorry.”

Chrysalis merely looked at her, inscrutable. What game was this strange creature playing at now?

“But.”

Applejack took a step forward. “We all know things can't stay this way forever. Change is comin’, sooner or later. As scary as it sounds, there ain’t stoppin’ it at this point.”

Applejack raised her hoof - her whole, unblemished hoof - and placed it against her chest.

“We’re all stuck. All this hate and anger… Sooner or later, somethin’s gonna bust.” Applejack looked up towards the glimmer of those eyes high above her. “And that’s what I’m afraid’s gonna happen.”

Applejack could feel the contempt in Chrysalis’ gaze. “And what exactly is your point?”

“Just what Ah said,” Applejack responded. “That things are changin’. Ah am livin’ proof that that change don’t have ta be a bad thing.”

“Debatable,” commented the terse queen stiffly.

“We don't have ta sneak about like no good thieves,” Applejack pressed on, speaking over her. “We, all of us, can stand in the open, in the light. We don’t have ta take. We can receive. We can give. All it takes is a little courage.”

Applejack put her hoof down again. “And that’s what Ah’m here for. That’s what my Ma put me here for: Ta find the way outta this… this… rut we dug ourselves into. Ah know that now.”

“Mighty chivalrous of you,” Chrysalis said. “Coming all this way like some kind of messiah sent to save her flock. Ah… how poetic.”

She rose from her throne, becoming a towering black shadow in the darkness. “Freshly into your adult chitin, and already acting like you rule the world. Still a self-centered brat with no concept of how the world works. Allow me to share a little insight with you, then. Free of charge… this time.”

Applejack heard the buzz of wings, a sudden flash of movement, and then the monster was in her face. Chrysalis was so close that she could see every line on her face, every strand of lank hair, every line of her fangs. Up close, her grin looked as wide as a bear trap.

Applejack took an automatic step back from that gaunt visage. Chrysalis chuckled in response and straightened up from her landing, her expression straightening.

“Your mistake is that you still see the world as black and white,” Chrysalis said. “Us versus them. Good versus evil. Pretty little constructs to keep the safe in and the bad out. But do you know what real calamities are? No, you couldn’t. You and your ponies have been too busy partying - living it up for the smallest occasions! Then take it from someone who has lived on the other side of the fence, where the grass isn’t greener.”

She began circling Applejack, moving slow as a panther. Her eyes glowed in the dark, emerald coals set into a nightmare face.

“It’s not good and evil. That is something familiar, something ponies can understand. It gives the mewling masses something to rally behind, something to structure their world with. The real threat isn’t good or evil. It’s change. Ah yes, change. The great unknown. Throw a tyrant at someone, and they can cope. Trust me,” she leered, “I know.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes at her.

“Because good is right, and evil is wrong. Black and white. But here’s the thing - no one is evil. No one wakes up one day and decides they’re going to be a monster.”

She leaned in closer. “We’re all the heroes of our own story, are we not? No, what is important is that all things remain exactly how they are. Because it is safe. It is certain. When you throw someone’s place in the world into question, take all they know as certain and safe and fling it out a window, never to be seen again… Ah, that, my dear, is what armageddon is made of.”

Chrysalis stepped up closer and gazed at Applejack, so close they were almost nose to nose again. This time, Applejack didn’t take a step back.

“You say you aren't Phantasma. And yet your promise rings of hers so very clearly. You bring change, a better future… And all we need to do is tear down the empires we’ve bled to keep alive. You bring chaos and upheaval. You would turn our world on its head, again. And all you can think to do is say ‘I’m sorry’. Only, not really.”

She dropped her voice to a chilly whisper. “Does that sound about right?”

The congregation chuckled. Applejack remained unfazed, expression blank. She caught a faint glint of Chrysalis’ grin out of the corner of her eye as she whipped around and started to saunter away.

“Equestria has made you so very simple-minded. All that partying and… whatever it is your ponies do has made you ignorant of the world around you, clawing at your gates to be let in. You don’t know what hardship, what true calamity is. We do. We’ve lived it. We’ve sharpened our fangs on the wreckage of it. We’ve tasted  the wet copper in our mouths and stepped over the mangled messes of the ones too weak to carry on. We’ve had our entire world come crashing down on our backs - an entire civilization. And we pitched it back up. Not you - us. Some of us emerged more… disfigured… than others. But we did it - without your little miracle cure. And what have you done? Kicked some trees?”

Applejack’s eyes turned to the gibbering form of Cerbera, who now seemed to be whimpering to herself, curled in a ball on her throne. She was murmuring that guttural phrase again, quiet as a breeze.

Chrysalis opened her wings, brought them to a thrum, and casually lifted herself back up to take her place on her throne again. She turned, sat down, and gave Applejack a cold look, her eyes once again emerald stars in the void overhead.

“So, little foal, how about I throw another idea at you. You barely scraped through a skirmish with a bunch of queenless insurgents. Oh yes, we knew about them,” she added. “quite the amusing show you all put on, scampering about like headless ants without the faintest idea of what was going on. But they were few, with a hastily thrown together plan of attack. Child’s play. And yet, they came this close to toppling you. And now here you stand, in front of not a band of guerrilla fighters, but the apex of our entire race, the heart, mind and if need be, fist with legions at our beck and call and a lifetime of scars to draw upon. And you think to stand before us… and tell us what to do?”

All eyes went to Applejack again. She looked up at Chrysalis for a while, but said nothing.

Chrysalis chortled, and said softly. “How is it, again, you are not like Phantasma?”

She was goading her, Applejack realized. She felt her temper flare, but she fought it down.

Everything she’d been about to say had gone out the window. Chrysalis had steered the conversation far from where she’d rehearsed. So, in times like this, Applejack could only rely on her gut and do what she did best.

“Because,” Applejack said bluntly, “Phantasma didn’t give ya a choice. Ah am, and what Ah’m offerin’, Ah ain’t askin’ for anything in return.”

She took a step forward, staring hard at Chrysalis. “Because, like it or not, we are family. And if Ah’ve learned anythin’ from livin’ with ponies, its that family always looks out fer family.”

Applejack glanced around, observing each of the thrones in turn. “If’n anyone is interested, y’all know where ta find me. If not, yer free ta do whatever ya want. Ah ain’t gonna stand here and twist yer hoof.”

She could feel Chrysalis’ scrutinizing gaze. Applejack could almost hear the unspoken question in her mind - just what game was she playing? What scheme was she up to?

For the first time, a pang of some new feeling ran through Applejack. Looking up at the paranoid creature, Applejack felt a wave of pity wash over her. Chrysalis was so used to ulterior motives and backstabbing that she couldn’t see any offer as being exactly what it was stated to be. And Applejack knew that would likely never change.

Chrysalis was right. She was disfigured by the abuses her life had inflicted on her heart and mind. In that moment, Applejack saw everything she hated about changelings, and now, everything she felt sorry for, all personified in that lofty throne in a lightless chamber in some shadowed hole in the earth.

But there were more here, some who had stayed quiet, observant. They listened without comment, without voicing any derision or suspicion. It was their silence that Applejack heard the most. Because it was them she spoke to most.

“Ah said my piece.” Applejack said, and turned, preparing to leave. But as she turned, she continued to speak. “But let me make somethin’ real clear ta y’all. Ah said y’all are free ta do whatever ya like out here, and Ah mean it. But from here on, Equestria is under my protection. If ya come lookin’ for a fight… If ya try ta hurt everypony Ah love…!”

She looked back, dead in Chrysalis’ eyes with an intensity that burned with a slumbering, ancient power. Everyone saw it, and for the first time, the contempt dissipated in the room.

“You will lose. Badly.”

Twelve horns erupted to life. Twelve bolts of acidic light were launched through the air, and struck with resounding explosions that shook the chamber to its foundations.

The platform beneath the thrones crumbled, and toppled into the bottomless chasm, creating cacophonous booms and bangs as it went, finishing in a distant, barely audible splash.

As the dust settled, twelve pairs of eyes looked down with burning derision… and then wide-eyed astonishment. Because Applejack still stood exactly where she had been, even though the floor beneath her hooves was gone.

Shimmering holes were blown through her body, but they only distorted it, and in a few moments, they resealed themselves with little pops. She showed no signs of pain, or injury as she turned halfway to face them, indifferent to the warped blotches perforating her body that were already smoothing out.

Applejack glared at Chrysalis. Then, she cocked a smirk. “Guess Ah ain’t as stupid as ya thought, huh?”

And then, with a crackle, her form dissipated into a shower of magical sparks. It wasn’t a teleportation spell, but rather like someone had just turned off a television.

Silence reigned in the chamber. Stunned eyes stared at where the image if Applejack had been. The quiet was only broken when Chrysalis began to laugh. She worked her way up from small chuckled to great peals of laughter, until even Cerbera was giving her a worried look.

Chrysalis sat back down. She flipped her mane out of her eyes, and leered down with a smile full of pointed, savage teeth. She put a hoof up to her face, and gazed through one of the holes to the last place she’d seen Applejack.

“Good. Very good.” she snarled, pleased. “We’ll make a halfway decent queen out of you yet, my dear.”

The horns of the gathered queens dimmed, then went out as her laughter resumed, echoing through the nebula of darkness at the heart of a vast network of chambers.

Thousands of blue eyes opened in the gloom, thousands rousing at the sound of their queen’s voice. Many others stretched in the darkness - things of abhorrent natures, things kept in cages and confined to collapsed lava tubes or chambers intentionally left closed off to the world.

Far from Equestria, far from all things familiar and sane to ponykind, the Shining Throne stirred for the first time in months. Its black shadow jutted up towards the sky, its misshapen form wreathed in sulfuric clouds and the glow of green-tinged fire from deep within its heart.

No living thing stirred in the twisted, dessicated trees at its foot. But the shriveled boughs moved all the same. They quivered as the earth quaked ominously.


~~***~~


Applejack heaved a sigh of relief as her surroundings snapped back into focus.

She stood in a much more inviting location - the crystal throne room atop her spire, hundreds if not thousands of miles away from that dreadful place. The cool breeze wafted over her, replacing the noxious fumes lingering in her nostrils with scents of a pine forest, instead. The stagnant, humid air was gone, and the warmth of a summer’s day surrounded her. Only then did she feel like she could actually breathe again.

On all sides of her, eight changeling drones heaved sighs of relief as their horns fizzled out. Standing in front of Applejack, a little blue in the face from holding her breath, stood Cadance. As Applejack’s eyes reopened, she let out her breath in a big rush, and nearly collapsed.

The projection spell had been a product of Cadance’s spellcraft, the changelings - who had knowledge of where the projection spell was supposed to be directed - acted as aiming beacons, and the vast reserves of Applejack’s own strange magic acted as a battery. Considering the many, many leagues between them and their target, Applejack was only slightly lightheaded, and those around her were quickly recovering from their discombobulation.

Applejack relaxed her stance, and wobbled slightly. That hadn’t taken as much out of her as she’d expected, but she definitely felt like she’d sprinted the length of a hoofball field. Her balance returned quickly, and her sight cleared.

Standing not far away, Rainbow watched apprehensively. “So?” she asked.

“Did you see them?” Cadance added, inquisitive despite being drained, physically and mentally. “What was it like?”

Applejack shook herself. “Y’all know a word stronger than spooky?”

She winced. “That, bad, huh?”

“Duh!” Rainbow interjected. “Of course it was bad! They’re bad guys. Super creepy is kinda what they do.”

Bad guys…

Applejack frowned to herself, then shook her head.

Rainbow turned to Applejack then. “What’d they say? It was kinda weird seeing your side of the conversation only.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Before or after they tried to blast me to bits?”

Everypony present winced now. “Well, I’m not that surprised,” Cadance admitted. “I was actually impressed that they didn’t try to blast you the moment you walked in. The important thing is you had a chance to speak, which means hopefully someone was listening.”

“We’ll have ta wait and see,” Applejack said. She let out a breath. “Probably won’t have ta wait long.”

Cadance nodded, frowning. “Knowing them, word will spread fast through their ranks. Worst case scenario, the border’ll have its hooves full very soon.”

She looked at Applejack, worry in her eyes. “I guess all we can do now is pray.”

Applejack nodded.

“Do you know if Aconita was there?” Rainbow asked suddenly.

Applejack looked at her, then shook her head. “No. Too dark. But… Ah think one of the thrones was empty. Only saw twelve blasts aimed at my face, not thirteen.” She eyed Rainbow. “Why?”

Rainbow shrugged. “I dunno. I just thought, if anyone would listen, maybe it'd be her. I know it sounds weird, but… I didn’t get the same vibe from her as Chrysalis. I thought, maybe... But maybe I'm just being silly.”

Applejack didn't say anything. She’d heard about the queen’s involvement in the Crystal Empire. She wondered about Aconita’s motives, but since nopony had seen hide nor hair of her for some time now, she could only guess that her mission had been completed, and she’d gone home. Perhaps, she was hot on the trail of Agave and Cassava - another train of thought that twisted Applejack’s insides into knots.

Applejack caught Rainbow’s eye. She saw how troubled she was, and was sure the same worries were bothering her, too.

What they did know for sure right now was this: Applejack had drawn a line in the sand. She had to hope there was someone on the Council whom Chrysalis had not been speaking for, someone willing to listen. They were who she’d been speaking to. But for the rest… her visit likely would have amounted to a threat. There would be many restless nights to come until they knew what kind of answer they would get.

“So what do we do now?” Rainbow asked.

“Wait and see,” Applejack said back. “Not much else we can do, sugarcube. Ah’ll bet bits Ah know what Queen Chrysalis will want done. But there has ta be someone on the Court that’ll wonder. And if enough of the Court don’t agree, things won’t get any worse. Fer us, anyway.”

Applejack sighed. “At least, that’s the idea, right?” she said, and turned to Cadance.

“It’s the best I could think of,” Cadance said, though she looked uncertain. “If the Court’s united, they’ll certainly try to come after us again, and so far our track record hasn’t been the best when it comes to their incursions. But if there’s no consensus, maybe it can buy us the time we need to reach a few of them. If we can turn even one queen to our side...” She sighed. “It’s a longshot. And it kind of feels like we’re fighting dirty. If we do accomplish that, it’ll mean the Court will be in upheaval again. It could mean civil war. But we need time. Equestria needs to prepare, your hive needs to reorient itself, and we need to get a handle on this new magic of yours. I know,” she added patiently, seeing Applejack about to speak, “I’m not asking you enroll in magic school. But understanding this pure changeling magic will be instrumental in the days to come, I can feel it. And I’m not sure how much longer Twilight can control herself,” she added with a glimmer of humor in her eyes.

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Well… I still think we should go down there and lay the smackdown on some of them. Ponies like that won’t learn their lesson until they get punched in the face a couple times.”

Applejack nodded in agreement, but her face darkened. “Thing is, that’s exactly what Phantasma would’a done.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rainbow sighed. “And Phantasma’s way - bad. I get it.”

Applejack smiled at her. Deep down, she agreed with Rainbow. Words alone would not reach the Court, she was sure. Most were so aligned against her that she doubted anything she said would make a difference. She’d thought to include Cadance after all at the last minute, because frankly, she knew the Court was not something she could outsmart, or outmaneuver. She was starting to miss the days where her problems could be solved by a swift kick to a tree.

But Applejack also wondered how many queens were taking Chrysalis’ side because they had to, as a matter of survival? How many clung to the concept of the Court like drowning rats cling to flotsam, doomed to eventually sink, too? Maybe none, and maybe she’d just opened Equestria up to a whole new wave of catastrophe by even giving them the chance to come.

But Applejack had to try. What she’d seen in Chrysalis’ eyes that day during the royal wedding… It’d been the same malignant darkness that had nearly consumed her. Who had Chrysalis been before that? Had she been like Rainbow to some extent - brash, overconfident, and wily? Had she been someone sweeter, kinder, like Twilight? The way things were now, no one would ever know. But surely someone had to be intrigued. Surely...

A nudge against her side got her attention. Applejack turned to find Rainbow prodding her wordlessly with her muzzle. A question was in her eyes, one she didn’t say, but the look she was giving Applejack was one of private worry aimed her way now.

Applejack smiled back. It was the best reassurance she could offer at the moment. No words felt suitable, as if anything she said would be only half-truths, or flat out lies. It was a complicated feeling, and she was sure Rainbow could see right through her current facade.

Deep down, she was worried. Worried about a great many things, and the pile was only growing larger. She didn’t have time to wait for the Court’s response. She didn’t have time to figure out these new powers she’d been saddled with. She didn’t have time to establish her hive anew. But somehow, she had to make time.

Just another day in this crazy, out-of-control ride that’d become her life.


~~***~~


Roseluck sighed as she sat down. For the first time in a very long time, she found herself in the uncomfortable situation of having nothing to do. The houses were being relocated without any real incident.  Drones were settling in to their new home, some already piddling about with growing flowerbeds and scrounging for paving stones for the roads.

By all rights, right now should be a very busy time for her. Hectic, even. Normally work had a habit of manifesting itself in her mind’s eye, like moving along a train and finding one car attached to the next, over and over. When one was a changeling, one didn’t need to think too hard on what needed doing next. Roseluck never had to.

But today, that usual process was not manifesting like it was supposed to. Drones weren’t coming to her for answers as much as they had in the past. Drones were just… doing things. Or else, like her, looking for something to do.

Roseluck couldn’t put it into words, but it felt like she’d been… cut from something. A voice inside her that had whispered directions to her subconscious her whole life had, for the first time ever, fallen silent. There was no imperative anymore. No drive. Roseluck knew she wasn’t alone - changelings all around the forest basin were taking to just sitting in the shade and looking around as if to find some direction.

The last of the houses had finished ambling over the rise a little while ago. So much work remained to be done - mountains of paperwork the ponies will undoubtedly want signed and reviewed, considering the mass relocation without going through any official procedures. They’d have to figure out what to do with the land given to them for the changeling district. And the newborn hive itself… they’d need to cultivate it, nurture it into a final form. That would take days, maybe even weeks of hard, meticulous work.

Her mind could conjure it all. But the drive to do it…

She turned her gaze almost straight up. Through the fir tree boughs, she could see the shape of the crystal spire looming overhead. Applejack was still up there, conducting her own business.

Applejack… whatever had happened to her, Roseluck was certain that the cause of her listlessness stemmed from that. The strange new form, the strange new magic… Roseluck was happy she was okay, without a doubt. But this new change… she couldn’t help but worry over it. On a very fundamental level, everything was different. The whole paradigm of the hive had been set on its head. It was like they were all falling, but had no idea in which direction, or how to catch themselves.

Roseluck bit her lip. No, if she was honest, she wasn’t really worried. She was scared. Scared because for the first time in years - since that night she’d stumbled, half-starved out of the Everfree - she had no idea what came next. And remembering that feeling was… terrible.

A cool wind rushed through the trees. As it passed, something in the wind grabbed Roseluck attention. It was a voice, calling from far away. Or… maybe it was a memory. It was so faint…

Roseluck looked around, not sure if she’d actually heard what she thought she’d heard, when her eyes fell on a pair of ponies trotting down into the basin.

It was Daisy and Lily. They were looking this way and that, calling out periodically. “Rose! Rose, where are you?”

It had been two days since she’d seen them last. Much longer since she’d had an actual conversation, she realized. Thanks to the Summer Sun Celebration, she had barely said two words to them.

Two days. But it felt like years. The aching listlessness inside her seemed to morph, and suddenly she realized how badly she’d missed them. Suddenly, that nebulous sense focused like a lens.

She was still in her changeling form. She hadn’t even thought about it until then. It still didn’t occur to her as she spread her wings and took flight, zipping down from her perch, around a bend in the newly built roadway, over a house… and right down in front of them. It was so sudden, Rose nearly missed them.

What was this feeling? Why did it feel so… strange? Like she was lost in a dream? Like she wasn’t really… there?

Daisy saw her coming first. She nudged Lily and pointed, and the two turned as Rose settled down on the ground again. With a flash of fire, she was once again her usual pony self.

“What’s wrong?” Roseluck asked. “Did something happen?”

Lily gaped at her. “What’s wrong? You are gone for two days without any word and wonder what’s wrong?”

Daisy was a little more direct. “Rose!” she bawled, and launched herself at an unsuspecting Roseluck. She tackled her to the ground, and proceeded to smothering her under a nuzzle assault.

The jolt of her head hitting the ground. The spots of light dancing before her eyes, the crushing pressure of a tight, tight hug. No, she wasn’t dreaming. This… this was real. She was here. They were here.

“I missed you so, so, so much!” Daisy cried, and locked her hooves around Rose’s neck tighter still. The more she talked the more she blubbered, until she was an incomprehensible bawling mess. “Y-you were always so super busy, and then, and then the district get’s c-closed -hic- Th-th-then there wa-wa-was this hu~uge explosion and you weren’t th-there and I re-re-really missed yo~o~ou!”

“Calm down, Daisy,” Rose struggled to say, but it was no use.

“A-and the petunias are w-wilting! I d-did everything like you d-do, but they just keep wilting! I’m sorry!”

Rose sighed, and resolved to let her wail herself hoarse while patting her back.

What was this feeling? What was this viceral thing that didn’t feel real yet was simultaneously the most acute sensation she’d ever felt?

Lily came to sit next to them, smiling. “She couldn’t sleep last night,” Lily explained. “So she’s a little strung out.”

Daisy turned to glare at her sister. “You couldn’t, either!” she accused.

Lily turned away, suddenly really interested with a distant cloud formation.

Rose sighed. She kept one hoof around Daisy, and held the other one out in Lily’s direction. She reached down and took it with a smile. “I really am a horrible ‘sister’, huh?” Rose said with a weak smile.

“No!” Daisy gasped, sitting up.

“Yes,” Lily said.

“Lily!” Daisy gasped disapprovingly, but Lily just continued looking the other way.

“It’s okay,” Rose said. Daisy looked down at her, worried, and found her smiling back. “I haven’t been there for you two lately.”

“Th-that’s okay!” Daisy burst out. She abruptly sat up, flailing her hooves. “Miss Applejack needed your help! We understand, really we do!”

“But it’d be nice if you were around more,” Lily commented. “Like before.”

Daisy shot her a disapproving look. “It can’t be helped! Rosie has a really important job, too! A lot of changelings are counting on her, so we can’t be selfish!”

Selfish? Rose blinked at the word.

Selfish. Was that it? Was that this feeling now blinding her from the inside? No… no it wasn’t, but it was close.

Roseluck noticed Lily looking at her. “Are you alright?” she asked, frowning.

Roseluck blinked, opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Why could she not understand it? Why couldn’t she make sense of the message her heart was telling her? Why did it feel so overpowering, blinding, deafening.

And then, it occurred to her, and she became still.

Her heart had never made sense to her. She’d translated it, she’d put on the show to fit in. She’d done it so convincingly she’d even fooled herself.

A changeling will always be a changeling. A slave. A willing zealot bound to nothing and no one except their queen. Only the queen’s impetus defined the boundaries within which a drone could develop and understand. Had she not been living exactly as Applejack had wished? Hadn’t all of them?

Now the impetus was gone. But it was more than that. The invisible cage was gone, too. The boundaries and rules that defined what her world could be had all been torn down. And the world was rushing in now, loud, bright, and overwhelming. And for the first time, there was no parameters in place by which her heart could govern her, silently checking her to keep her in a predetermined mold.

There was no directives. There was no paradigm. Only a howling, terrifying, quiet roaring of things Roseluck could not understand, because she’d never truly experienced them, only their specters.  The veil was gone. And now… now she could see.

Her hooves rose, shaky, quaking, uncertain.

Lily was still looking at her, but now there was a scared look on her face. “Rose, what’s wrong?” she asked, her aloof demeanor slipping.

She licked her lips. She wrangled her tongue.

“I missed you,” she said quietly.

Daisy turned her head and looked at her. “Rosie?” she asked.

Roseluck’s hooves wrapped around her, and pulled her down in a hug. Daisy squealed in alarm and confusion.

She was warm, wonderfully warm, and smelling of potting soil, flowers, and lavender. All these things Roseluck had committed to memory as being distinctly Daisy. But now it was Daisy. Those smells, those sensations, they were her.

The deafening roar grew louder in her chest.

“R-Rose?! Wh-what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I missed you,” Roseluck said again. She buried her head in Daisy’s shoulder.

Now she understood. It made sense in a way only an insane person’s insanity makes sense once they’ve fully slipped into lunacy - a way that defies actual explanation, but simultaneously is the most unquestionable truth there is. Maybe that was it? Maybe Roseluck had just snapped and gone completely mad.

She laughed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, heavy and hot. “I missed you… I missed you,” she babbled. “Because… because…”

Her manic laughter devolved to blubbering. “I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Daisy was panicking. She was asking Lily what she’d done, what was wrong with Rosie. But when Roseluck looked up at Lily, she saw her standing there, wide-eyed.

Could she see it? The manicured persona, gone, leaving a scared, blinded, deafened creature in a cold, unfamiliar world for the first time in its life?

Roseluck extended her hoof again, and unexpectedly, Lily, moving faster than she had in a long time, dove at her. She wrapped her hooves around her, tight.

“It’s okay, Rose,” she murmured. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. We’re right here. Just-Just let it out, okay?”

Daisy still seemed unsure what was going on. She just looked at Lily, amazed, but never released Roseluck.

“We’re right here,” Lily repeated.

Roseluck clutched at her, her eyes too blurry to make sense of anything anymore.

Deafening roaring… blinding feeling… She opened her mouth.

“I… I love you,” she said to the sky -a bleary splash of blues and whites and the iridescent blur of the spire overhead. “Both of you.”

She smashed her eyes shut. “I love you both… so much…”

She could wrap her head around it now. This, her chest told her, was love. This burning, radiant feeling, not the filtered sensation she’d dealt with her whole life. A mute stand-in she’d always assumed to be genuine, and thus had no reason to question it.

It flooded through her veins now, warm and wonderful. Loud, blinding. But she couldn’t get enough of it. The way it pounded with the rhythm of her heart, pulsing through her legs and body like a drum beat.

This was love.


~~***~~


“Careful… careful…”

Rainbow’s words in her ears, Applejack focused on the ground beneath her.

Her long black hooves batted lightly, eager to touch the ground again. Her wings blurred through the air, making multicolored crescents at her sides and disturbing the grass as she neared. They bore her weight, but there was a reason why Rainbow had to hold her hooves like a foal learning to fly for the first time.

“Just a little bit more…”

Her hooves finally met grass, and Applejack let out a breath she’d been unintentionally holding. Back with the solid earth under her hooves, she immediately felt several times steadier.

“See? Nothing to it,” Rainbow smirked, landing with a quick flitting motion. “Stick with me, filly, and I’ll get you flying circles around everypony in no time. Well, except me, of course, but that goes without saying.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow at her and returned her grin. “Modest as ever.”

Rainbow puffed out her chest and tapped it. “Practically my middle name at this point. I’m probably the most modest pony in, like, the history of Equestria or something.”

Applejack chuckled. Then, she fell quiet.

Rainbow noticed, and looked her over. Applejack was looking at her, seemingly lost in thought.

Rainbow blinked, puzzled, but before she could ask what that was about, the buzz of rapidly approaching wings caught her attention.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

Both turned as a pair of changelings zoomed in their direction, moving fast, looking distressed.

A knot of panic formed in Applejack’s gut. Had the Court already made their verdict known? It was too soon!

But then one of the drones piped up. “It’s Roseluck! Something terrible- You need to come, quick!”

The knot tightened in her chest. Applejack nodded, and galloped off as fast as she could - which was much faster than she’d anticipated, thanks to her longer legs.

Rainbow was flying after her, and soon overtook her, as she raced off to see what fresh calamity had befallen them.


~~***~~


By the time Applejack arrived, half the hive had beaten her there. They all buzzed anxiously, fretting in nearby trees and on top of houses and crowded the grassy pathways still more wilderness than road.

They parted for her as she approached, and as Applejack grew closer, she thought she heard somepony crying. Her heart clenched tighter.

What could have happened? How could it have happened already? So many questions whirled about in her head, but she did her best to push them side until she made it around the last house, through the crowd, and beheld the scene.

Daisy and Lily were huddled in the middle of a clearing in the hive’s ranks. They were lying on top of something strangely shaped and pearly, apparently beside themselves even as Rainbow - who’d beaten Applejack there by a country mile - tried to pry them free.

There was no sign of Roseluck at all.

Daisy was beyond inconsolable. She appeared to be trying to say something, but all that came out was wave after wave of hysterics.

Lily was barely more coherent, at least able to articulate some kind of words. “Get off!” she was shouting at Rainbow, actually fighting her. The pegasus had Daisy around the barrel, and was trying to pry her away from that strange, oblong thing underneath her. “Get off! Get away from her!”

“Take it easy!” Rainbow was trying to say, only to catch a flailing hoof upside the head.

Daisy managed to get free, and immediately latched onto the thing again.

“What in tarnation is going on?”

Applejack’s voice rang out loud enough to get everypony’s attention. Daisy, Lily and Rainbow all froze and snapped around to look at her.

Applejack looked around, first to the many staring faces of the changelings, who all looked back apprehensively, then to the ponies, one by one. Then she scanned around the clearing, slowly trotting towards them.

“Where’s Roseluck?” she asked.

In response, Daisy let out a fresh flood of sobs.

Applejack drew closer, the knot throbbing in her chest, until she was almost to them.

She squinted at the thing Daisy was lying on top of. It was pearly, glassy almost. In the direct sunlight it was blindly white, but Applejack detected more than that in its many pearlescent hughes.

Her eyes adjusted to the blinding flash of it catching the sun, and as she did, she made out its swirling pattern. And suddenly, she realized what it was.

She froze, eyes going huge. Lily must have noticed, because suddenly she forgot her tussle and turned to her.

“Miss Applejack? Miss Applejack, do you know what’s going on?”

She was suddenly in her face - as in her face as a pony a fraction of her height could be. Lily beat her hooves on Applejack’s chest, her eyes wild. In all her years of knowing the flower pony, Applejack had never seen her so desperate.

“Please! You have to help her! I-I don’t know what we’lll do if-if R-Rose…. If Rose…!”

Rainbow appeared next to her, rubbing one of her eyes. Apparently Lily had gotten a good one in. “What the hay is she talking about? I don’t see Roseluck anywhere.”

Applejack glanced at her, then back up to Daisy - and the pod she was clutching.

She could feel it… something she couldn’t quantify, but resonated with her nonetheless. Some part of her understood, a part she’d neglected more than her wings.

“Um, AJ? What’s going on?” Rainbow asked, now regarding her curiously.

Applejack shook her head, but said nothing. Lily moved out of her way as she stepped forward. Her hive watched her approach, and Daisy turned to look up when she came to tower over her, casting a shadow over her.

She looked at her searchingly, eyes flooded with tears that flowed freely. Applejack smiled down at her. “Ah know yer upset, but could Ah ask ya ta step back a bit?”

Daisy sniffed, and blinked up at her. “Do… do you think you can fix her?”

Applejack chuckled. “Ah get the feelin’ she’s done all the fixin’ she’ll need, herself.”

Daisy gave her a perplexed look.

“Please,” Applejack said softly. “Ah promise she’s gonna be just fine.”

Daisy continued to look at her for a moment. Then, she nodded, and clumsily removed herself from the pod and took several steps back.

Applejack smiled at her, then turned back to the object of everyone’s attention. Her shell opened a bit, and her wings slid out to flit through the air a few times. It was a thoughtful movement, one only Rainbow really noticed.

“Um… AJ?” Rainbow said curiously.

Applejack didn’t answer. She continued to stand still, looking down.

A sudden flash of light made everyone present recoil. Everyone except Applejack. The crowd watched in fascination as the pod suddenly wriggled, quivered, and lifted itself into the air.

Everyone watched as the pod rose even higher than Applejack, slowly revolving on the spot… then cracked.

Daisy and Lily both gasped as the outer shell fractured once, twice, then exploded in a shower of sparks and small fragments that flurried through the air like snowflakes.

And out of the shell came a creature who was altogether familiar and alien at the same time. Her dark chitin was familiar, as was her blank, glowing eyes. But her mane, once a scraggly fringe like the rest of her kind, had grown out into wavy rat’s nest of rose-colored hair. She blinked with big green eyes. The sun danced off of her rosey shell marbled with lighter pink streaks.

The crowd gasped as she dropped out of the air, only to catch herself shakily a few inches from the ground. She set herself down on hooves without holes, exhaled through lips without fangs, a bewildered look on her face. Her wings glimmered with shades of pink and yellow, making Daisy and Lily gasp.

“Wha…” she breathed, voice hushed. “What… happened?”

Applejack smiled down at Roseluck. “Welcome back, Rose,” she said.

“Applejack?” She asked, sounding woozy.

Applejack chuckled. “Easy there. Just take a breath. How’re you feelin’?”

Rose blinked slowly. Then, gradually, her eyes focused. Her expression grew to one of wonder. “I… I don’t know,” she said breathlessly. “But… but there’s a lot of it.”

Applejack laughed, drawing more confused looks. “Ah know the feelin’, Rose. Ah know it’s overwhelmin’. Trust me.”

Roseluck continued to look at her like she’d never seen her before. Then, she looked down at her herself, and gasped. “What… what happened to me?”

She only stopped spinning around, literally chasing her own tail, when she heard Applejack laugh again. She looked around to see the warm look on her face.

“Ah ain’t got the foggiest,” Applejack admitted in good humor. “But… It don’t look like I’m alone, after all.”

Roseluck blinked at her. Then, abruptly, she turned around towards Lily and Daisy. They stood not far off, looking equal parts dumbfounded and amazed.

They only snapped out of it when Rose came sprinting towards them, and wrapped a hoof around each of their necks.

Applejack smiled at them, and without thinking, she leaned her head to one side - right onto Rainbow’s shoulder. It was strange, not having to even think about where she was, despite their height difference now. She always knew she could find her, and where to find her. And sure enough, there she was, hovering at shoulder height.

Changelings all around continued to watch the trio of flower ponies giggling and crying together in a mess of tangled emotions and tight embraces.

And then, slowly at first, it started to happen.

Applejack only became aware of it when she heard someone mutter nearby - something indistinct about needing to go somewhere. Another murmured about needing to check on somepony. Still another, about an appointment they’d forgotten about.

She glanced around, and noticed black shapes trickling away through the bushes, through the sky, through the grasslands.

Changelings were leaving, bound for places unknown. But Applejack knew. She watched them go, heart warm and full in her chest.

“Where are they going?” Rainbow asked, curious.

Applejack didn’t even need to think about it. “Home,” she said.

Rainbow looked around when Applejack lifted her head from her shoulder. They looked at each other, and she was suddenly aware of how bright and warm the sun was.

“Rainbow,” Applejack said quietly, just for her to here. “Do ya remember yer promise? About gettin’ away fer a while.”

Rainbow grinned. “Like I’d forget, bugbrain.” She held out a hoof. “Where to?”

Applejack’s smile was the warmest it’d been in a very, very long time. She lifted on of her own hooves and placed it gently in Rainbow’s.

“Don’t care,” she said back.

Rainbow snorted. “Funny. Neither do I.”

Applejack chuckled, then glanced to one side. She noticed Roseluck looking at her. She beamed, brighter and happier than Applejack had ever seen her before in her life.

The changed changeling jerked her head, as if to say ‘get out of here’, all without untangling herself from her adoptive sisters.

Applejack smiled, and spread her wings. She felt the tug on her hoof.

There was so much left to do, so much left to consider. What’d just happened to Roseluck, especially. But for the first time in months, Applejack felt not trepidation about casting it all side, if only to chase that cocky grin and that guiding touch.

For once in her life, shrugging out from under responsibility felt so blessedly welcome. For once in her life, she craved the freedom of that big blue ocean overhead, where the vastness of the world eclipsed anything she might have bothering her. For once in her life, it didn’t scare her how huge it was, how limitless it was.

And for once in her life, taking flight was the easiest thing in the world.


~~***~~


Many, many miles away, deep in untouched tracks of wilderness, a one-eyed changeling drone made his way down a game trail that had never seen a pony’s hoof before.

With the sounds of the forest all around him, Cassava plodded along at his own pace, humming a wandering, tuneless ditty to himself. All around him, the birds sang, the bugs buzzed, and in the distance, a dragon roared as it stretched after a hundred-year-long nap.

He was dimly aware of the soft pitter-patter of small hooves behind him, but when he looked, he saw Agave was still looking down, methodically focusing on where to put her hooves.

Honestly, he’d expected her to put up more of a fight. When he’d told her they were going home, he was braced for a tantrum. They’d come all this way, by golly, and done nothing but sit around and break into one measly mansion. And now they were headed back the way they’d come. Back to mother.

But when he’d told her, she’d just nodded, and started plodding along after him. After all, the day was saved, but their continued presence in Equestria would only exasperate the Court’s impending reaction. But he hadn’t even needed to bring that up.

In some far-flung corner of his mind, he wondered if Phantasma’s influence was already settling in. He wondered if the thing trotting along behind him wasn’t even the blubbly little filly anymore. It was something else - some thing.

He pushed the idea aside: it raised too many complicated responses to be considered. Agave was a smart filly. Perhaps she’d come to that conclusion herself. That was an answer he could live with, and so he clung to it, even if a little naively. She was being strangely quiet, though...

On his side, his pack bobbed and bounced with his stride. The weight of it made him feel lopsided, but he put up with it without complaint. Up a hill he went, traversing along a steep ridge of shale and loose rocks. Once he rounded it, it found himself faced with a series of plateaus, each covered with dense underbrush.

He paused as he regarded them. His humming stopped, and for a moment his expression was blank. He stared at the dark tree line immediately in front of him with his one good eye for a long time, as if unwilling to approach.

For the first time, Agave spoke up as he hesitated.

“Um, Cassava… where are we going?” she asked. This was the first time she’d seemed concerned about their destination, but now she was looking around, as if she’d snapped out of a daydream to realize where she was.

Cassava paused. Then, his nonchalant grin came back, and he turned it on his ward. “Oh, nowhere much. Just meeting up with some old friends.”

Agave’s brows knitted together, worry and confusion coloring her expression. But, as always, she nodded politely. “Okay,” she said.

She always was such a trusting soul, Cassava mused to himself. She had complete and unquestioning faith in him, that he’d always do the right thing for her, no matter what.

Maker… how I wish I did... 

He turned away. He banished the bothersome gnats swirling around his brain. With a deep breath, he forged ahead.

The tree stand was not particularly large, but it was dark and dense with bushes and fallen trees. Navigating the wood was a chore, especially with a little one in tow that needed help over nearly every obstacle, but he forced himself onward, trudging in silence, until he came to an opening between two fallen redwoods.

He came upon what must’ve been some kind of camp site. In the recess under a tree’s uprooted base he could see a well camouflaged tent half concealed by hanging moss and shadows. Nopony would ever know it was there if they didn’t know where to look.

There was no campfire—such a thing would defeat the purpose of a bolt hole—but from the open tend door, he could just make out a green glow.

As Cassava approached, he became aware of the sounds in the trees dying down to a hush. The forest grew deathly quiet and still, yet somehow the silence felt very crowded to Cassava. He felt Agave bumping against his side. Much closer and he’d risk tripping over her.

He planted his hooves and waited without saying a word, only extending a wing to bring Agave to a halt as well. He continued to wait for a long time, until the tent door rustled, and a pony stepped out into the gloomy deadfall. Agave took one look at him, and let out a shocked gasp.

The elderly stallion who emerged could not have been any more out of place. Surrounded by uncharted woodlands, it was hard to reconcile the portly, well dressed fellow who ambled out into the open air in the same way one might approach a guest awaiting in front of a villa.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” laughed Bullion. “I’m guessing by your presence that things have gone awry?”

Cassava met his humorous grin with a quick flash of one of his own. “As you expected, of course,” he said.

Bullion’s grin only grew, as if he wasn’t surprised by Cassava’s report, only reaffirmed by it. Next, his eyes glided off of him, and down to Agave. The changeling filly had taken to hiding behind Cassava’s hind legs, peering out with only one eye from around his flank.

“W-what is he doing here?” she whispered, but Cassava ignored her.

“And I see you’ve brought our other little prodigy,” he remarked. His tone was unchanged in its pleasantness, but it made Cassava’s hide crawl. Bullion seemed to notice some tiny shift in Cassava’s demeanor, because his eyes flicked back to him, and he chuckled.

“W-what does he mean by that?” Agave whispered nervously. “Cassava, why is he here?”

Cassava tilted his head in her direction. “Be quiet, sonrisa,” he said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice that silenced her.
“Oh don’t be so sore, Cassava,” Bullion said boisterously, and Cassava snapped back towards him. “If I were you, I’d own up to this little accomplishment of yours. After all, you were the one who personally delivered our queen’s Corastone to Applejack herself. You were the one who smuggled it out in the first place, right out from under the Court’s nose, I might add. One could argue, if it wasn’t for you, none of this would have even happened!”

Bullion stood up, and clapped, slowly, while Agave looked on with dawning horror.

“C… Cassava?”

Cassava said nothing, stone-faced for the first time.

Bullion set himself down, all smiles. “It was quite the grand idea. Using Applejack to bring back our dearly departed queen would have been quite the ironic thing, now wouldn’t it? Had it worked, I would’ve given you full points for creativity. Hay, I may still do that. It was quite the sales pitch.”

Bullion sidled closer. “But you and I both knew it was a gamble. That mare has too much of a history of overcoming adversity. Such a shame things didn’t go our way, but still, it was only a spur of the minute choice, now wasn’t it? Applejack, she’s just a distraction, really, to keep the rest of the Court fuming while we go about our business.”

“What’s he talking about Cassava? Cassava?”

Bullion stopped just in front of Cassava and looked the drone up and down. “I must say, I am surprised you stuck to the plan. Why, I could’ve sworn you were developing a soft spot for that little queenling you’d guarded so well.”

He leaned in then, “Among… other… distractions, shall we say?” he whispered. “How is Equestria’s newest princess, anyway?”

Cassava gave him a cool look, but said nothing as Bullion leaned back. “But I would wager you’ve proven your loyalty to the cause without a shadow of a doubt,” Bullion said, turning away sharply. “Pity though… we’ve lost more than we’ve gained this time. Seventeen years under cover, since the day Phantasma was taken from us, all gone up in smoke. Bullion was such a useful scapegoat; I doubt the ponies will ever really grasp how useful. In a few months I’ll just reassume his identity again and start over, I suppose, or maybe select some other patsy.”

Agave was quiet now, disturbingly quiet. Cassava could almost hear the pieces falling in place in her head.

Bullion’s horn lit up with a green light. The knot of fabric tied around Cassava’s throat unwound, and the pack levitated from his back.
“And now, we have the crown, and the Corastone. Now that we know our enchantments work, we just need to wait for our… true target to blossom, shall we say. Until then, we, her loyal hive, will bide our time. We’ve already waited seventeen years; what is a few more, hmm? As long as we keep the Court’s ire centered on Applejack, what do we have to fear? We don’t exist anymore.”

Bullion grinned and turned away, carrying the bundle with him. He made it ten feet, and for one fraction of a second, Cassava dared to think that would be the end of it. But then Bullion drew to a halt again.

“Of course, we do have one problem.”

Cassava watched him, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “And that would be?”

Bullion grinned over his shoulder. “The ponies have a culprit, of course! They have a lead to what’s truly going on. Which is truly problematic to the overall secrecy of our mission. Which means… adjustments must be made.”

The trees around them started to shake. The sounds of hissing built up louder.

“You have been remarkably sloppy, Cassava,” Bullion said, still trotting away. “Remarkably sloppy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you intended to make yourself their target. All these years under Aconita’s watch has dulled you. And, I’m afraid I don’t have a use for dull instruments.”

Agave was pawing at his side, squeaking incoherently. Something in the bushes had alarmed her, but Cassava didn’t turn around to see what it might be. He was plenty aware of what he’d see, anyway. Instead, he sighed and rocked back. “Aye, I suppose I can see your problem, muchacho.”

Bullion glanced over his shoulder at him. He even chuckled “Still using that insufferable accent to the very end, I see. Oh well… No hard feelings, I trust?”

Cassava gave him a surprised look and shook his head. “Hmm? Oh no, no. Of course not. After all, you are right. I have been sloppy.”

Bullion paused, something like suspicion in his eyes.

Cassava grinned and licked the point of one of his fangs as he relaxed his stance. Inside, though, he was anything but calm. “It would have been easier to just use Agave without ever bringing Applejack into the picture. Nopony in the south ever would’ve noticed. And it would have been easier to keep as many ponies out of it as possible, like Princess Sparkle, or Rainbow Dash. And… Ah, I seem to be forgetting something else…” He twirled his hoof, searching for the words. “Ah, dios mio what was it… I know it was really important. Something about… making sure I wasn’t followed?”

Bullion froze. His eyes opened wide. In the next second, a deathly chill swept through the hidden camp, bringing with it a shadow as dark as night.

No alarms sounded from the perimeter. Nothing sounded. It was as if the whole world beyond the piles of fallen trees surrounding the camp had ceased to exist, trapping them in a pitch black void from which there was no escape.

“No, that wasn’t it,” Cassava said, still mulling things over. “I wouldn’t be that sloppy, especially after putting someone’s little niña at risk.” A huge, predatory grin spread across his face as the bushes behind him were laid flat. “Right?”

Bullion stared in uncomprehending astonishment at the towering black figure stalking through the underbrush, silver loches of mane writhing in the wind as if they were living, furious vipers.

“No,” Queen Aconita said. “You certainly would not.”
~~***~~

No one would know the fate of Bullion’s imposter and his band of cohorts. But it would be nearly an hour before Aconita was through with her punishment. By then, the secret hiding place was nothing but ash smoldering in changeling fire and black, acrid smoke smelling of burnt things.

Amid the waste, Aconita stood in front of a one-eyed drone, staring down her nose at him. He did not bow, or capitulate, but instead just stood there, as casual as ever. He even leaned on his left hooves.

“Are you wanting an explanation?” Cassava inquired.

Her eyes flicked to some point behind him, then back. “Among other things,” Aconita said.

Cassava’s smile was small, empathetic. “I am a drone, my queen. I serve. That is my lot in life, yes? I do not have the luxury of picking who that might be.”

Aconita didn’t say anything. She just narrowed her eyes. “Agave?” she questioned.

“H-here,” squeaked an absolutely tiny, absolutely terrified voice from someplace behind Cassava’s form.

Both adults ignored her. Cassava sighed. “She has already touched the Corastone. Its influence has not affected her yet, but when she comes of age… there is nothing I can do.”

Aconita glanced down to one side. She lit her horn with an angry flare. Behind Cassava, Agave squealed. He turned just in time to see her whizz over his head, and land again at her mother’s side.

Aconita glanced down at her with the same look as one verifying valuable goods were securely stowed, then flicked her gaze back to Cassava without ever once changing expression.

“You understand what happens next, I presume,” she stated through pursed lips.

“My queen,” Cassava spoke up, paused for a moment, then with a pulse from his horn, he lifted his eyepatch from his head and set it on the ground.

When he looked up now, Aconita saw the pale chitin stretched over an empty, collapsed socket where no eye had ever been before. To Aconita, the sight was ghastly, disdainful. Imperfection in drones was almost always a death sentence, for it meant they were less capable than their whole peers. And yet here Cassava stood, Aconita’s famed attack dog, and Phantasma’s dreaded enforcer before that. The face was disgusting, and Aconita would not stare at that single eye and vacant patch of skin opposite it no longer than necessary.

Cassava smiled. Not a cocky smile, or a confident smile, but one of understanding. “I know what I have done. And as much as I’d like to say I would change it all if I could… Well, that would make me a liar.”

He took a step back, raising a hoof slightly over a lump in the ash. “I did not agree with Bullion, or his methods. But that does not change my duty to my queen.”

Aconita’s eyes narrowed. “So you would rather doom us all?”

Cassava paused, blinking his one good eye. “Doom? Why would you think that? No, no, I’m not dooming you. I’m stopping the doom from coming. Surely you feel it, reina. What’s coming. Applejack can’t stop the war, no matter how many promises she makes. The Court want it. They’ve turned rabid, unchecked. Things need to be set back in order, made the way they were. Or else… or else we will tear ourselves apart. And I don’t think we can pick ourselves up from the ashes another time.”

He smiled. “And as far as I know, there’s only one who can do that. She did it before.”

He extended a hoof, then scooped it through the ash and mud. And as he lifted it, he produced the Corastone again.

“And now I have the crown, and the stone,” he said with a smile.

For the first time, Aconita’s expression soured. Now that she thought about it, she’d lost track of him during her… punishment. He must have rifled through Bullion’s possessions while she was tearing the congregation apart.

Her horn erupted. Two logs splintered, and began to writhe. Their ends ripped open, forming gigantic, snake-like maws. Belching changeling fire, they launched themselves at Cassava - and exploded in midair.

Agave squealed as splinters of wood rained down on them. As the fire faded, Aconita beheld a peculiar glow between her and her target.

‘NO EVIL’ floated in front of her, fiery letters suspended in the air between them - exactly over where Cassava had discarded his eyepatch.

On its other side Cassava looked back with an apologetic expression. “Take care of Agave,” he said. “I’ll try to find someone else, I promise. But, if I should fail… if I can’t save her in time… You know how to. You have a way now! If not for me, then do it for her! I beg you.”

He flashed a smile, lit his horn, and fell through the ground. Emerald flames shot up to the sky, then vanished, along with all trace of the traitorous drone.

Aconita gazed down at the smoldering point he’d stood in, expressionless. The wind swept through the clearing, parting the smoke just enough for a few thin rays of the sun to find their way in.

“Impressive work as always, Cassava,” she murmured, privately. And that was the last she ever spoke of him.

A slight rustle behind her caught her attention. “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

Agave squeaked as she froze halfway through tip-hoofing away. She turned, trembling. But Aconita hadn’t turned towards her yet. When she did turn, it was in one fluid motion, placing the whole of her attention on little, frightened Agave.

Agave gulped, then straightened up. Then, summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, she spun around to face her in kind, and shouted, “I’m not sorry!”

Aconita paused, more out of surprise than anything, and looked down at the miniscule creature standing in her shadow. Agave didn’t even come up to her knee, but she was standing in front of her now, head craned all the way back to look up into her face.

It was rare for Agave to raise her voice in her mother’s presence, unheard of for her to raise her voice at her mother.

“It was my idea!” Agave said firmly. “I wanted to help Applejack! Cassava had nothing to do with that! He only came with me to Equestria because I made him!”

Aconita continued to stare down at her quietly. Some part of her - a dead part, long since rendered silent and hollow - couldn’t help but marvel at her passion in this moment. If only she could muster up this kind of conviction on demand.

But it was a small, inconsequential part she’d grown deaf to.

“Is that supposed to change my mind?” Aconita asked coolly.

Agave was trembling. She looked on the verge of tears, but she somehow found it in her to continue holding her ground. Usually she’d demure by this point and obediently shuffle off to one side, skirting her mother’s hard gaze. But now here she stood, resolute against her. Afraid, yes, but not cowering. She held Aconita’s gaze, unblinking, unfaltering.

She saw Agave swallow, and then force herself to speak. “D-do you know why I came to Equestria, mother?”

Aconita show’d no change in her expression. “Why do you ask such a silly question? It is only natural to seek to understand the success of others. Queen Applejack’s way is new, untested, yet her success cannot be denied. I expect half the Court has informants keeping a close eye on her by now.”

Agave’s cheeks puffed up. “No! I didn’t do it for me! I did it for you!”

Of all the answers Aconita could have been given, this was not one she’d anticipated. In a rare, uncharacteristic moment, her eyes widened in surprise, her icy facade briefly forgotten. “Excuse me?”

Agave took a step forward, her expression suddenly desperate. “You’re the only one who ever believed in me! No matter how much I messed up, or came short of the other princesses, you always told me stories, or tucked me in at night! You always made sure I ate, took care of me when I got sick. You never abandoned me, even when other queens did their own princesses, and for things half as bad as what I did!”

Agave shook her head fiercely, sending a few glittering droplets this way and that. “I don’t care what happens to my heart, but I want to give yours back to you! Because… because you’re my Mommy, and, and… and I want you to know how much I love you!”

She ran out of words to say, but not words to tell. Aconita could see it in the useless flapping of her mouth, the way she sputtered and uttered sounds but no articulate phrases.

Aconita stared down at her, and after a pause, her expression sagged. She showed every single one of her forty years of life, and then some. Her eyes glimmered with a deep pain not even a dead heart could fully wipe away.

“You are a fool,” Aconita said. She sounded tired - deeply, morosely tired. “An absolute fool.”

Agave winced back a step, but didn’t back down. “Why? Don’t you want to feel anything anymore?” Agave asked.

The shadow of pain in Aconita’s eyes grew deeper. “My dear, sweet ignorant child,” she said, and now her voice was soft as silk. “Some day you may yet learn what true pain really is. Then you will beg to have that bleeding thing cut from your chest, as I did.”

She stepped closer. She lowered her head to speak only to her daughter in a low voice. “I watched my mother die, Agave. I watched my hive die. My younger sister, die. I watched it all. Everything I loved and cared about. Burned to nothing. All because my mother was too proud to kneel to Queen Phantasma when she came demanding her allegiance. But I was not. For the sake of those that survived, like me, I was not. When I molted and lost my heart, it took all the pain of that experience with it. I was grateful for it.”

Aconita raised a hoof. Agave flinched, expecting a blow, but instead she felt the soft caress of chitin under her chin. Her head was drawn up, to meet the cold forlornness in Aconita’s expressionless face.

“I see in you the same thing that was in me until that night. I see myself in you… far too much. That is why you are my heir - because when your heart dies, you will see things as I do. Nothing more. Whatever you feel for me, it cannot eclipse that wound.”

She dropped her hoof and stepped past her so abruptly Agave was still blinking at the empty patch of sky overhead.

“I have never been disappointed in you, Agave. That is, until just now,” she said as she walked. “Now come. We are leaving.”

Agave bit her lip as she lowered her head. She turned and looked at her mother. “I know there’s something in you that doesn’t believe that,” she said.

Aconita paused. She glanced over her shoulder back at Agave. “Oh? Then prove me wrong,” she challenged. Then she started walking again. "If you can."

Agave composed herself. She straightened up, wiped furiously at her eyes, and quickly started trotting after her. “I will!” she said. “You’ll see!”

Aconita didn’t respond. She just turned her head slightly to keep her expression from her overly hopeful daughter’s sight. 


~~***~~


In a grove far, far away, Cassava took a deep, shaky breath.

"Well, no going back now," he said to himself. "Ah, well... I guess somepony has to play the part of the monster."

He lit his horn, filling the darkened glade with a brilliant green light. From his pack, a blackened Corastone and broken crown floated into the air, and came to a stop in front of him.

He didn't need to do anything fancy. No spellcraft was even needed. As soon as they two grew close, they began straining against his magical grip, as if magnetized to one another. All he had to do was let go, and the two flung each other at one another with such force that they broke apart.

Dark flames filled the grove, swallowing everything except Cassava. When the flames died, the grove was stricken and barren. Trees bore no leaves, and looked as if they'd been consumed by some wasting disease. The grass was gone, the flowers nothing but ash.
Cassava hardly noticed. He had his eye trained on the only thing of real importance: the crown slowly drifting down to earth, burning green-hot. No longer was it broken, and even in the gloom, he could see the brilliant shine of the purple gemstones atop it.

He took a deep breath, and then retrieved the crown, which was still scalding to the touch and thrumming with power he didn't dare meddle with. Not yet.

This was necessary. This was what had to be done. No other path laid open to him. Not anymore. He was a drone. And drones lived to serve. But Cassava had learned a long, long time ago that the only way to live was to play with the hand you were dealt, and make the most of it. He just happened to be playing with a rigged deck.

Cassava glanced back, towards an opening in the gloomy dead grove. There was sunlight back there. The brilliant hills of Equestria, and its carefree denizens. What a wonderful place it was, so full of happiness and peace, where everypony and anypony was free to live their lives as they saw fit.

And he absolutely hated it.

Cassava stowed his queen's crown, and taking up a whistling tune, he sauntered into the dark.

He had a job to do.