> Into The Fire
>  by Jack of a Few Trades
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter one: Early Mornings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

        The Frozen North of Equestria was a very barren place. There were few landmarks to see; just a vast expanse of short lichens and occasional grasses in summer and an endless sheet of snow in winter. Anything living there was very rugged, being forced to live in one of the harshest climates that Equestria has to offer. There were so few ponies in the area that the weather tended to govern itself, only complying to the needs of life below where there were enough pegasi around to keep things under control. 

        It was early in winter; at this point shaping up to be a particularly harsh one. A full-on blizzard was descending upon the northern reaches of Equestria for the second time in two weeks, coating the already-frozen landscape in a fresh blanket of snow and ice while blasting it with a bitter wind comparable to a Windigo’s breath. Across the whole of the land, nary a creature could be found outdoors. 

        That is, except for two. Huddled behind a boulder, partly to escape the penetrating gale and partly to avoid being seen, two Changeling drones sat watching. 

        “How much longer do we need wait?” one of the small black forms asked. 

        “Just a bit more, I think I can tell when the next one is going to come by,” answered the other, who had his head poked out from behind the rock. A small dot of light in the distance caught his attention, though it was almost entirely drowned out by the blowing snow. 

        Ahead of them was a tall, imposing length of chain-link fence topped with vicious-looking razor wire. The wind constantly whipped through it, causing an eerie whistling sound to echo out. The Changeling sat patiently, watching down both directions of the fence for any sign of activity. According to the observations he had made over the last hour, the next guard was due within the next thirty seconds. 

        The faint dot grew brighter and closer, and he breathed a sigh of victory. Without breaking his line of sight to the guard, he tapped his partner. “Get ready,” he whispered. The other drone crouched down while grinning, preparing for the sprint. 

        On the far side of the fence, the guard lazily ambled past, seemingly lacking a spare thought for his duty to keep vigilant for any threat. Slowly but surely, he made his way farther down until eventually he disappeared back into the curtain of precipitation. 

        The watcher did not immediately act. The guard still needed a few more minutes to get out of earshot and to where the coming light show wouldn’t reach him. Immediately after he passed out of view, the second drone tapped his partner on the shoulder. 

        “He’s gone, why aren’t we moving?” 

        Annoyance clear in his tone, the first drone responded, “He’ll notice the spell if i do it now, give it some time.”

        The time dragged on, especially for the second Changeling. He was eager to start, to get in on the action, and yet he was stuck waiting behind a rock while the fence he was set to infiltrate sat unguarded before him. Just when it seemed like the wait was going to physically harm him, he was tapped by his partner. 

        “Get ready, Ips,” the first drone muttered, tensing in anticipation himself. A few tense seconds passed before another command was issued. “Go!” 

        Both drones bolted from cover, galloping across the final hundred feet that separated them from the fence line. The first Changeling ignited his horn, quickly gathered the power necessary, and fired a beam of his green spellfire into the fence. Immediately before hitting the structure, it encountered its true obstacle. An invisible layer of energy caught the charge  and held it, causing an intense reaction. The Changeling’s spell attached itself to the magical barrier and began eating away at it, much like strong acid eating a sheet of iron. It quickly worked its way out from the bullseye, a bright violet light emitting from the barrier spell as it was beaten back. 

        Though the light display was beautiful in its own right, the two changelings did not have time to admire it. The green magic was already fading as it spread, losing its ability to dissolve the barrier spell. However, it had made it just far enough to work. Both took wing, all the while battling the fierce gale. The barrier had receded just enough to form a gap at the top. Without a moment’s hesitation, the drones zipped through the gap and let themselves drop to the ground immediately after clearing the fence. A few seconds later, the dissolving spell gave out and the barrier snapped back to its original state, again becoming invisible. 

        Breathing heavily, Ips slapped his partner on the back, “Gotta hand it to you there Cochylis, that spell works like a charm.” Cochylis nodded and they both began their run, in the opposite direction that the guard had gone. 

        Not far ahead, a small hut appeared through the whiteout. Cochylis eased back from his sprint, Ips following suit after he ensured that he was first to the hut. Cochylis took the left side, Ips on the right. With only a nod between them, Ips turned the knob and eased the door open. 

Inside was a very small sleeping quarter. A three by three locker unit lined the right wall and a rack of weaponry, armor, and other equipment took the left. The back wall was stacked with three small bunks, each one holding a sleeping pony. Walking on eggshells, Ips moved to the bunks. 

Ips hopped up to the top bunk, perching himself just behind the stallion’s head. Cochylis stood by the lockers, instead opting to ignite his horn and wrap an aura around the pillows of the two remaining guards. With a small flicker, he extended his will to the pillows and pulled them out from under their heads and into their faces. They struggled and kicked wildly, muffled yells rising up through the pillows. Slowly but surely, they began to lose their strength. Above, the sickening sound of a knife being driven into flesh rang out and filled Cochylis’s ears. The sound was almost enough to make him lose his control, but he persisted until the soldiers finally went still. 

Ips hopped down from the top bunk, looking rather pleased with the few drops of blood that had gotten on his forelegs. He looked at Cochylis and nodded while a whirl of green enveloped him. The spell finished, and in its place stood a brown-grey pegasus of medium build with a short blonde mane. Following suit, Cochylis performed his own transformation spell. He had become a smaller burnt orange unicorn with a grey-blue mane of similar cut to Ips’s. 

The next order of business was armor. The individual pieces were mixed and matched in a pile on the wall opposite the lockers. Internally, Cochylis felt a bit of disgust at the disorganized mess, but quickly shoved that thought out of his mind. Instead, he went about finding which armor would fit him. Ips had morphed into the larger stallion of the two, so any piece that looked larger went to him. Neither were experienced with these armor types, so it took some trial and error before they finally managed to get the uniforms on. They were almost fully dressed when a knock sounded at the door. Ips stepped back next to the beds, leaving Cochylis to handle the visitor. 

“Wake up; Code Twelve!” shouted a deep, throaty voice from the other side of the door. 

Cochylis stepped closer to the door before shouting back at it, “Yeah we’re almost ready to go!” He had to fight the tendency to hiss the ‘s’, but managed it well enough. The soldier outside seemed satisfied by the reply, as he did not respond. A dull thud hit the wall; the soldier had leaned against it while he waited. 

        The infiltrators put the finishing touches on their uniforms, slipping the helmets on and fastening their swords to their hips. Cochylis nodded to Ips and they made for the door. The door was grabbed by the gale and nearly flung out of the Changeling’s grasp as he opened it. Holding it open just enough to slip out and not offer the other soldier a full view of the bodies inside, they exited the shack. 

        The storm seemed to have intensified in the few minutes they were inside. The snow had begun mixing with sleet, making the storm feel more like a sandblaster. The ice pellets rung faintly against the metal armor, all the while stinging at their faces. 

        “Hate to wake you guys up for this, but we need help. We need a few more guards for the technicians while they work,” the soldier began, having to raise his voice over the wind. 

        “No trouble,” Cochylis replied, trying to avoid using words with any ‘s’ sounds, as they could give away his innate hiss.

        “Come on, I’ll lead you down to it!” The other soldier took off in the direction the Changelings had come from. The infiltrators followed along without another word. 

        Not too far ahead, they came upon the breach site. Four soldiers were standing about lazily, not-committally guarding two unicorns, one older looking stallion and a younger mare, while they performed basic tests on the magic field. The three new arrivals fell into place with the guards, standing in a semicircle around the technicians.

        “Hey Jumper!” one of the four original guards yelled across the group. His gaze was fixed on Ips, who did not realize the attention. “Jumper!” he repeated, drawing nothing more than a passing glance from the disguised Changeling. 

        Cochylis’s stomach churned. Ips was being approached by one of the guards in what appeared to be familiarity. If this pony knew the soldier that Ips was impersonating, it wouldn’t be long before he realized something was amiss and their cover would be blown. 

        The pony started walking over to Ips, repeatedly calling his name out. Ips was just now starting to catch on to the current dilemma. He shot a ‘What do I do?’ look at Cochylis, who returned a shrug. As the pony neared, a strange glint washed over Ips’s face, one that Cochylis recognized. As much as he hated the idea of what was about to happen, he knew that it was likely the only way that this could play out. 

        Ips turned to face the other stallion, and he grinned. 

“Jumper, you alright?” asked the approaching soldier, his cheerful expression eroding at the sinister grin. His pace also slowed to an unsure shuffle. 

Ips took a step forward, his eyes darting from the pony directly in front of him to one just behind, sizing up targets. Cochylis did the same, noting the soldier behind him and two on the other side of the technicians, who were fully oblivious to the events behind them. Of the four other guards, two were not paying attention and two were watching the display between Ips and the other pony with mild interest. 

Ips took another step forward. The gap between them was closing fast. Cochylis steeled his nerves and moved his foreleg to the sword sheathed on his waist in preparation. Ips did the same. 

“Hey wait a minute, what’s going on he—” 

Ips burst forward like a snake striking a mouse, yanking the sword from its sheath and swinging it down onto the ill-fated soldier in front of him. Cochylis leapt into action simultaneously, turning around and rushing the soldier behind him. He buried his sword in the stallion’s ribcage before he even knew what was happening. 

        The other soldiers quickly took note, though were met with differing reactions. The one furthest away turned tail and started running. The one nearest to Ips drew his own sword and charged. Between them, the final soldier stood with his mouth agape, unable to move from the shock of what he had just witnessed. 

        Ips pulled his sword free of the body of the first soldier killed just in time to meet the pony charging him. Though he managed to block the attack, it sent him reeling backwards from the sheer size of the attacking pony. As the soldier came in for another strike, the Changeling took wing. The bulky Earth pony barreled past him while attempting to stop himself. Ips took the opportunity and let himself fall onto the pony’s back. 

        It was a foolish decision, to say the least. The resultant buck sent Ips skyward with such a force that he lost his disguise. However, his head was not hit in the kick, and he still had enough wits about him to spread his wings and take advantage of the boost despite the searing pain in his stomach. He circled around at breakneck speed, aiming himself directly at the big pony and curling himself into a tight ball at the last possible second. 

        What happened next was a blur of black chitin, white fur, and snow. Ips impacted the pony in the side, sending him sprawling out on the ground. Ips hit the ground and broke his ball, skidding to a halt a few feet away. His back felt like he had cracked the exoskeleton, but he ignored that pain and took advantage of his current situation.

        The big soldier was still having trouble getting up. Ipscould tell that the stallion had broken ribs after the hit. He approached the soldier, who barely seemed to take notice through his own pain. Ips pulled a small knife from a hilt strapped to the pony’s leg and staggered around behind him before sinking the dagger into his neck.

        Meanwhile, Cochylis had taken off after the pony who had run away. It didn’t take him long before he was almost upon his quarry. 

The pony looked over his shoulder, noticed the Changeling, and immediately cut out away from the fence and into the tundra; a panicked decision resultant of poor judgement. As soon as his hooves left the concrete path, he sank up to his knees in the snow. Without snowshoes, he was going nowhere fast. 

Cochylis smiled. Now he had it easy. He slowed his pace back a bit, trotting up to the point where the stallion had diverged from the path. The pony hadn’t made it far at all by the time the Changeling arrived. He was constantly looking behind, watching his pursuer grow nearer, the panic in his face becoming more evident with each passing moment. His efforts to wade through the snow doubled when the Changeling began setting out into the drifts on his trail. 

Cochylis had just jumped into the snow when he heard a crackling sound whiz past his head and a cobalt blue aura go with it. He whirled around just in time to see the shot impact the fence behind him and be absorbed by the barrier spell. He whipped his head back forward just in time to see the pony line up another shot, this time with more aim put behind it. Cochylis ducked down into the snow just before the second shot zipped by where his head had been. 

The Changeling immediately charged up his own horn, hopped up, and fired back. His shot impacted the snow a few feet behind the pony, showering him with enough snow to suppress another shot. Cochylis hopped forward, closing the gap by a few feet. He fired again, this time sending the shot sailing past the pony and out into the storm. 

The Equestrian soldier had seen enough already and began running again, awkwardly hopping through the snowpack like a cornered rabbit. Cochylis jumped up to give chase. Two bounds after the pony later he realized his advantage. He could drop his transformation, and because he was traveling with the wind, glide forward with little effort. The swirling green aura encased him, bringing him back to his natural form. 

All he needed was a little hop and to spread out his wings. The howling wind caught beneath them and propelled him forward, closing much of the distance between him and his quarry in a single bound. Another hop and glide, and he was nipping at the soldier’s pasterns. 

The soldier hadn’t been watching, instead throwing all of his efforts into escaping. He was caught by surprise when he was tackled from behind. He went down hard, a yell of surprise and terror escaping his mouth as he hit the ground. 

Cochylis stood over him, mentally preparing himself to do what was needed. He pulled the sword from the hilt, raising it over the soldier’s head, and stopped. The soldier, while not blubbering like a foal as he had expected, was still giving him a pleading look that rattled the Changeling’s resolve. The sword lowered away from the pony and he closed his eyes in frustration. 

That was all the pony needed. He raised his hind legs and delivered a stout kick into the Changeling’s abdomen, knocking him away enough to scramble to his hooves and try to scurry away frantically. 

Cochylis needed no resolve now. He set himself upright again, shook his head, and charged his horn once more. This time, the shot hit its mark, slicing into the pony’s gut and splashing the nearby snow with crimson. The stallion fell and disappeared into the snow. Clutching at his stomach, Cochylis dumped the sword back into its sheath and began ambling his way back towards the fence line. 

When he arrived back at the site, the two technicians were sitting huddled next to the fence, their faces wracked with fear as they stared at Ips, who was splashed with blood and looking quite pleased with himself. The guard that had been frozen with shock was still in the same place as before, though on his side and missing a piece of his neck. Cochylis felt a shiver run through his back. 

“That was sloppy,” Ips stated, wiping a snowball across his face to clean up. 

“You’re telling me?” Cochylis retorted, catching a scowl from his partner. 

        Ips dumped the snowball to the ground and threw a glance at the technicians, “You’re up, Mr. Diplomacy.” 

        Cochylis sighed and strode over to the technicians, “You, old pony, on your hooves!”

The old stallion complied, nervously scrambling upright. “What do you want fro–”

        “Shut up!” Ips snapped. The technician winced. 

        “Now do exactly as I say, and I wont hurt either of you. You are going to open a hole in the shield, since you can do it without triggering an alarm. No questions, no feedback, and then we won’t hurt you or your little friend here.” Cochylis pointed at the fence. “Do it!”

        The technician looked at the fence, back at Cochylis, and shook his head. “No, you’ll just have to kill me.” 

        Ips grinned maniacally, a demonic glint appearing in his eyes. “Suit yourself,” he said nonchalantly as he stepped forward and grabbed a fetlock full of the stallion’s mane, jerking his head up high and holding the knife to his throat. 

        Cochylis averted his eyes, on the chance that Ips went ahead with it. “Last chance, old timer.” 

        “Screw you, you overgrown roach,” the stallion spat, glaring at the changeling holding his neck. 

        Ips grinned wider, pushing the knife a bit tighter against his throat. The old stallion grunted, working his best to keep his composure. He knew they wouldn’t actually kill him since they hadn’t already done it. He only had to hold on a little longer before more soldiers came along and put an end to it. 

        Cochylis nodded to Ips, who took the knife away from the stallion’s throat. Instead of the knife in the neck, he moved it up to the horn. Starting at the base, he began slowly dragging it along the grooves in the unicorn’s horn. His response was a shrill scream and a flash of involuntary spellcasting. The snow around the unicorn melted quickly, exposing the concrete. 

        “We can do that all night,” Ips reminded, kicking some slush from one of his hooves. 

        “No,” the technician answered defiantly through gritted teeth. Another round of screams rang out as Ips again grated the knife on his horn. He was asked again, and still refused. 

        “We aren’t getting anywhere here,” Cochylis commented. “Try the apprentice.” 

        “I like the way you think,” Ips agreed, relaxing his grip on the elder pony. 

        “I’ll do it,” the technician croaked, gasping for breath. “I’ll do it.” 

        “Was that so hard?” Ips mocked, patting the stallion on the shoulder. 

         Groaning, and rubbing his head the unicorn turned to the fence, ignited his horn, and with a great deal of strain, attached two tendrils of magic to the barrier. The tendrils parted, making the barrier fizzle and pop as it was spread. A hole appeared in the barrier, about as large as the one Cochylis had made with his own spell, sans the volatile war between barrier and the dissolving magic. 

        “Good, hold that open,” Cochylis said to the stallion. Ips hopped away from the mare and scurried to the top of the fence. Using a hole in his hoof, he whistled loudly out to the other side of the fence. Not long after he hopped down, the rumble of hoofbeats became audible on the far side. 
        
        One by one, more drones began spilling over the border. They took wing briefly to clear the razor wire at the top in the same fashion as Ips and Cochylis had before, letting themselves fall back the ground immediately after clearing the fence. 

        “I cant...hold this mu- much longer…” groaned the old technician, his magic beginning to visibly falter. As he muttered the warning, the final drone sailed over the fence. 

        “We’re good,” Ips confirmed, nodding to Cochylis. The technician let his magic fade, and the hole snapped shut with a loud crack and a shower of sparks. 

        The dozen drones that had spilled over the border formed up in groups, one of five and one of seven. The group of seven departed in the direction of the shack, and the five started leaving in the opposite. They stopped a few feet away, looking back at the two primary infiltrators expectantly. 

        “We’ll catch up to you,” Cochylis dismissed. The group turned and went on their way. When they were gone, Cochylis looked over to Ips. “What do we do with these two?”

        Ips was holding his knife in a fetlock, admiring the blade. “Well, I’m not one for dead weight, you know.” 

        The technician’s face turned pale, “What do you mean by that-URK!” 

        Without warning, Ips whirled around and drove the knife in under the technician’s ribs. He slowly sank down in the snow, blood spilling from the wound, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks and his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

        The shriek from his apprentice was enough to shatter glass. She screamed and jumped up to run at the first sight of blood. Ips charged his horn and fired, striking her in the back of the head. She fell hard and tumbled a few times before coming to a permanent rest. 

        The older technician began weakly lashing out, trying to get at his aggressor, but to no avail. The struggle he presented was enough to get Ips’ attention, who shoved the knife in again, this time going deeper. A thin trickle of blood ran out of the stallion’s mouth as his body slowly went limp. 
        
        All the while, Cochylis had been standing with his mouth agape. His plan had been to hold the technicians in case they were needed. Anger began to well up as the sheer stupidity of the two murders came to focus. 

        “Coch? You okay?” Ips asked, putting his knife back into the hilt and walking forward. 

        The growing anger reached the boiling point, “What the hell was that?!” 

        Ips shrugged, “I took care of the problem, plain and simple.” 

        At this point, Cochylis was consciously trying to burn holes in Ips with his glare. “We could have used them, you idiot!” Cochylis held his head in his forelegs, unsure of what to do. “What in Tartarus possessed you to kill them without thinking?” 

        “I didn’t want to have to look after two hostages when we have bigger problems already!” Ips was now matching Cochylis on volume, puffing his chest out to help him speak louder. 

        Cochylis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Forget it. You’re right, we do have work to do.” Without even sparing a thought for the bodies, Cochylis took off in the direction of the squad. Ips followed close behind.  

The drones departed, leaving the scattered array of bodies to slowly cover over with snow. The only sound was the howling winds and the rustling of fresh sleet over the ground.  Ten minutes passed by in peace until the area was bathed in a soft purple glow. The barrier spell suddenly flashed from transparent to violet along it's entirety, suddenly visible just behind the fence. It stayed visible for a few seconds before it began to flicker and die. The glow faded as the spell did until there was no barrier left and the fenceline went dark. 

A small army of Changelings sprinted forward moments after the barrier disappeared. There was one drone per fence post, and they each carried a tool resemblant of a large wrench. They attached their tools to the base of the fence posts under the base of the chain link, tightened a knob on one end, and rotated it full circle around the pole using their magic. The fence buckled as the posts were cleanly severed, and with the assistance of the wind, it toppled forward onto the concrete walk with a metallic crash. 

Not bothering to retrieve their tools, the demolitionists rushed across the downed barrier and forward into the tundra. Moments later, more came. Many more, on the order of thousands more, began rushing across the unguarded border and into Equestria in an uninhibited flood. The invasion began. 




        Twenty-four hours earlier...

        The Equestrian Army’s base sat just off the Eastern edge of the Crystal Empire. It wasn't very large, only a small conglomeration of buildings surrounded by a gravel yard and a tall chain-link fence. The street that ran east from the castle terminated at its gate, making the base resemble a growth on the city. It was complete with a headquarters building, a mess hall, a row of five Quonset huts that made up housing for the new soldiers and three more permanent structures to house the officers, specialized workers, and older soldiers who had earned better sleeping quarters. 

     Nestled inside the easternmost permanent barracks were most of the experienced soldiers , all soundly asleep save for one. He sat staring up at bunk above him, his eyes no longer heavy with sleep. His back was rigid in anxiety, and his brow and back were soaked with cold sweat. The sensation of waking up from a nightmare had become all too familiar for him in the past few weeks, and once again he found himself thrust awake far too early in the day. 

        He grunted softly and began shifting out of the bunk in an attempt to keep the mattress from creaking. As his back legs hit the ground, the bed let loose with a groan that exploded like thunder in the deathly silence. He winced at the noise, half-expecting the other ponies to wake up, but they didn’t stir. He lifted himself up from the mattress, not bothering to be gentle this time, and unfurled his wings as soon as he was upright. The left one was numb from being pinned under his body all night, and moving them produced an uncomfortable tingling sensation. 
Crossing the room as silently as possible, he made his way to the showers. On the way across, he stumbled over a misplaced hooflocker and nearly fell, but managed to right himself with the assistance of a few muttered swears. 

        The showers were empty, having been unused for enough time to let the floor dry. He entered the tiled room and switched on the head farthest from the doorway. The water quickly began steaming and he stepped into it, only to discover that it was scalding. He winced and jumped out. A bit of adjustment on the knobs and he cautiously re-entered the stream; this time it was more acceptable, and he washed his mane and tail while enjoying the warm water.

        With his mane and tail cared for and washed, he picked up the bottle of body soap and began to apply it to himself when he heard an ominous groan in the ceiling. At first he figured it had something to do with the heating system, but a few seconds later, the water suddenly ran cold. The shock made him jump out of the stream and stand dripping with most on him still unrinsed. He took a few deep breaths to steel himself, and then jumped back into the shower, standing in it only long enough to rinse out the remaining soap. The cold was excruciating as he had gotten accustomed to the warm water, but he stuck it out long enough to rinse off. With a quick flick of his wingtip, he turned the water off and stood there dripping wet and shivering. 

He had left his towel back in his hooflocker. 

        It took leaving a long trail of water back to his bunk and a lengthy clean up before he found himself staring at his reflection while brushing his teeth. The mirror did not present a good sight; the normal sheen that his violet coat provided was not as bright as normal. His eyes were drooping from exhaustion, heavy bags underneath them. He felt like he was getting ready to collapse.

Only one thing could fix the problem. The one thing that tired ponies everywhere could turn to when they needed to face the day: Coffee. 

He finished brushing, left the sink, and returned his toiletries to the hooflocker, all the while taking care to be silent as it was barely more than five in the morning.  With all of his morning preparations taken care of, he exited the barracks and entered the chilly pre-dawn air outside. He made his way down the row of quonset huts, his hooves crunching in the gravel that paved the entirety of the base. Once past the last of the semicircular tin buildings that made up the enlisted ponies’ living quarters and one right turn later, he was out in the main common area of the base. Ahead of him was the front gate, and just past that sat the Headquarters, the only two-story building on base. He approached the gate and nodded to the guard on duty before letting himself out. 

The front gate opened to the end of the road that ran east from the Empire’s center. Out on the street, he took up a steady lope, his hoofsteps echoing alone at that time of day. The chilly air, once he got used to it, was refreshing and invigorating as he ran along. The sun had just begun turning the horizon to twilight, and moon was still visible on the western horizon. The Empire was lit up by its own natural ambience, providing a glow that was plenty to see by but not overly bright. 

It wasn’t long before he arrived at his destination. At the intersection with the secondary road that ran around the city sat a squat red crystal building with a large caricature of a donut above the door. The lights were on inside, and even at the early hour, the sign in the window read OPEN. He walked in and was instantly hit with the enticing scent of frying donuts. The bell over the door rang, and from the back room appeared a short cream-coated mare. Her scarlet curls were highlighted by a wide swath of pink on top of her head, and she wore a bright smile. 

“Dusty!” she announced in greeting, her voice just a bit loud for his taste. 

“Hi, Braid,” he returned.

“You okay? You look like you’ve been hit by a cart,” she commented, noting his heavy eyes and faded color. 

“I feel like it too,” he muttered.

“Sorry to hear it. So, let me guess, you want the usual large coffee with cream and sugar, and a bag of donut holes. 

“When did I ever get donut holes?” 

“When I made more than usual for a special order and then it got cancelled last minute,” she answered, pointing to the overflowing tray in the display case. 

“Sorry Braid, but I can’t. Physical said I was gaining a little too much weight,” Coal Dust said, scrunching his muzzle slightly. 

“Ugh,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Alright then, I’ll go get your coffee.” Braided Twist disappeared into the back room for a moment while Coal Dust produced a few bits from his saddlebag. 

“Gotta say Dusty, you’re up awful early,” Braid commented as she emerged from the back room, holding a pot of coffee precariously in one hoof.

“I couldn't sleep very well last night,” Coal Dust replied vaguely.

“What’s bothering you?” she asked.

“I dunno what it was, really.”

“Huh,” Braid replied, “Maybe if you got a bag of donut holes, it’d make you feel better.” 

“No thank you, Braid!” Coal Dust reminded, earning a sour look from the shopkeeper. 

“You’re starting to worry me, Dusty. You’ve been doing this bad sleeping thing a lot lately. Ever thought about going to the doctor and getting it checked out?” 

“And get called a crazy for going to the shrink? No thanks,” Coal Dust answered with a snort. 

“Oh come off it, Coal Dust. It might help!” Braid snapped the lid onto the cup. You don’t have to look all tough when you have a real problem,” she added, throwing up quotations and doing her ‘typical stallion’ voice. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 

“Okaaaaay,” she muttered while writing up the ticket. “One large coffee and one medium bag of donut holes comes to seven bits.” A wide smile affixed her face.

        “I said no donuts this morning Braid. I’m serious.” 

        Her smile withered a bit. She hadn’t expected him to be able to resist this well, but she had other tricks up her sleeve.

***


Coal Dust exited the shop with a fresh cup of coffee, a bag of warm donut holes tucked under his wing, and a scowl affixed to his face. Dawn was ready to break on the eastern horizon, and there were already a few more ponies out on the streets. Two more customers had already stopped in at the shop since he made his own purchase. 

He began his walk back to the base while muttering curses under his breath. The mare had outsmarted him again, and his stomach made the final betrayal; that and she knocked two bits off of the price to further sway him. Today wasn’t the only time either, and he was beginning to believe that she was much smarter than she let on. 

Pushing the front gate open with his front hoof, Coal Dust headed for the mess hall, where he could eat his donuts in peace due to the early hour. The mess hall was directly behind the headquarters, and a short walk later, he was seated at a table near the back of the room. The smell of questionable cooking filled the air, and he found it better to not regard the scent and instead focus on Braid’s masterpieces. He popped one into his mouth and leaned back in the chair, hiding his face behind the newspaper he had picked up on the way in. The news was particularly bland today, as the front page was covered by details of a large public works project that King Sombra had signed into effect the day before. The Empire was about to receive a massive overhaul to their water supply system in wintertime, and the only other news about the city was that their ice hockey team lost their game the previous night. 

Left with only one other choice, Coal Dust flipped through the paper until he found the comic section. He chewed thoughtfully on another donut hole and took a swig of his coffee. The caffeine and sugar were already working well on picking him up. He was almost done leafing through the funnies when the intercom crackled to life. 

All patrol captains, report to the briefing room at 0730 hours. Repeat: All patrol captains report to the briefing room at 0730 hours.

The crotchety voice of the mare coming over the intercom coupled with the fact that the speaker was directly over his head startled the crystal Pegasus, and the swig of coffee he was taking turned into a gulp. The liquid burned his tongue and he fumbled the cup, dropping it onto the table and spilling it. He immediately went to retrieve a wad of napkins and began mopping up the spill. When most of it was gone, he tossed the paper and the cup into the trash and went to pick up the bag of donuts. 

What he hadn’t realized was that the coffee had soaked the bag. When he lifted it off of the table, the bottom ripped out and sent the rest of his food out onto the table. With a disgusted groan, he dropped the sack on the table and left the mess hall, leaving the mess for someone else to clean up. 

The intercom had called for all patrol captains to report, and the clock signaled that the start time was merely ten minutes away. Coal Dust decided that since there wasn’t much else to do while he waited, he would go ahead and grab a seat a few minutes early. 

The briefing room was mostly empty when he stepped in; only two others arrived earlier than he had. He walked to the back of the room and took a seat in the far corner, leaning back and watching the front of the room with a bored gaze. 

As the minutes ticked by, more leaders appeared one by one, some coming alone and some in groups. The front rows filled up first, though a few followed Coal Dust‘s example and went straight to the back. Many stayed standing while they talked amongst themselves. The room echoed with the din of voices. 

Coal Dust sat and watched the clock, keeping to himself. It was 7:29, and in exactly one minute, the meeting would start. He hated surprise events such as this, but they were a regular occurrence on the base, and he had grown accustomed to them. Primarily, he wanted the thing to start so it would be over faster. 

A small gust of wind and a couple of thumps in the chair next to him distracted him from his thoughts. “Hey buddy,” said the large white Earth pony who had just taken the seat. 

“Hey, Headstrong,” Coal Dust greeted half-heartedly. 

“You’re looking down,” Headstrong commented. 

“You’re not the first to notice,” Coal Dust deadpanned. 

“Well you’re not hiding it very well,” Headstrong shot back. 

“Ten Hut!” interrupted a voice that instinctively made both stallions jump up and stand at attention. 

“Good morning, patrol captains,” announced the authoritative voice of a stout pale green earth pony.  

“Good morning Commander Nest, sir!” shouted the entire group in unison.

“At ease.” The squad leaders all sat down in unison. “Now then, I’m sure you are all wondering why we are having this meeting so early this morning.” A few murmurs floated around before Nest continued. 

“I won’t bore you with useless chatter and get straight to the point. We have a change of circumstance on our hooves and there are going to be a few changes to our operations,” He looked to the unicorn standing in the back of the room. “Aurora, if you please?”

The lights dimmed and a flicker of magic popped on the screen, bringing a diagram of a pony sized insect-like creature into view. “I know that you have been lectured over all of this before, but I want all of this to be fresh in your heads.” Nest picked up a pointer and began identifying different parts of the creature. “This is one of those little devils, also known as a Changeling. These nasty little suckers are basically rejected Alicorns that pack less of a punch. They are only average flyers, and considerably less talented with magic than the average unicorn. They can do basic grasping spells and also deliver a nasty shot from that little spike on their heads, but that is about it. They aren’t especially tough one at a time, but in a swarm, they’re a major force to be reckoned with. The best way to kill a Changeling is with a headshot , but there is a weak point just behind where the heart would be that also works well. Next slide.”

Headstrong leaned over and whispered in Coal Dust’s ear, “I didn’t think we were coming in here for a geography class, did you?” 

 The screen changed, this time bringing a well detailed map of Equestria and the surrounding countries into view. Nest pointed to the map, “As you all know, this is Equestria. We are here, in the northern reaches of the country.” The Crystal Empire was marked by a figure of the castle that made up the center of the city, Baltimare by a skyscraper, Canterlot by a caricature of the castle, and so on. A wide blue swath to the west and and north of Equestria’s borders marked the boundaries of the Griffon Kingdoms, and between the two nations sat a sizeable patch colored in black. Nest pointed to the black spot, “And here is Changeling territory. Back fifty-seven years ago, they launched a surprise attack that took a lot of land from the Griffons and a little bit from us, earning them their own sovereign nation. Recently, there have been rumblings of change coming from the bug country. They have a new king. Next slide please.”  

The picture changed to another Changeling. This time it was a grainy image at a poor angle of one that wore armor, was nearly twice the size, and looked three times as mean as the last one. “This is that new leader. He goes by the name of Chrytion. He is just as mean as he looks, gentlecolts, and also quite the eloquent speaker. Ever since he assumed leadership over the colony, we have had a lot more incidents at the border. Small, non-violent encounters is all that has happened so far, but inside intelligence tells us that there is reason to be concerned over these new developments.”

Nest turned and faced the audience, putting an even deeper seriousness into his voice, We don’t know exactly what his intentions are, but we cannot take the threat from anything they do lightly. Next slide.”

“In accordance with a new threat, we must heighten security. We will have more guards out in the Empire every day to search for any signs of infiltration. You all know how those little bugs can shape shift so well, so any suspicious signs will be dealt with accordingly. Those of you who are not on patrol will be rotating on beats around the city,” A few groans rose from the crowd, “And we will now be sending out patrols three times a day instead of just once. The patrol that was scheduled originally will now be this morning’s patrol.”

Headstrong groaned; he now had to go out on patrol in the morning instead of afternoon like originally planned. Commander Nest continued, “You can check the new schedule on the bulletin on your way out. If your name is on that list for today, you come and see me after dismissal.” Nest looked around, “Well, that about sums it all up. Are there any questions?” Silence. “ Alright then. Dismissed.” The entire room jumped up and saluted again. 


        
	
	

> Chapter two: Patrol
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“It’s bugging me, buddy. Why the long face?” Headstrong asked.

“Haven’t been sleeping well lately. I don’t know why,” Coal Dust answered, not putting much into his reply. 

“Maybe you should try sleeping pills. My mom used those a lot when I was younger,” Headstrong offered. 

“It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then.” Headstrong looked up to the front of the room. The crowd at the bulletin had thinned out most of the way already, so he stood up from his chair. “Well, might as well see what the damages are,” he quipped.

“Yup,” Coal Dust agreed, hopping down off of the tabletop and fluffing his wings a bit. 

There was still enough of a crowd up at the bulletin to keep them getting a look. Headstrong, not known for his patience and also for taking advantage of his size, began muscling his way into the group, receiving a few shouts of annoyance. Coal Dust followed behind in his wake, taking advantage of the opening and depositing himself directly in front of the board. 

He scanned the far right side of the list. Seeing his name there would mean he wouldn’t go out on patrol for four more days. The absence of his name led him to the day three section of the list, then to the day two section before he finally swallowed his pride and looked at the section for that day. In the top box, for morning duty, was Headstrong’s name. The next box put Apache in for the afternoon duty. In the bottom box, for the night patrol duty, was his name and a small picture of his face. Damn it.

Headstrong and Coal Dust backed their way out of the crowd, nearly bulldozing a smaller stallion. Once out of the crowd, they exited the meeting room and went to Nest’s office.

“Well, that really sucks. Didn’t you just have a patrol last week?” asked Headstrong.

“Yeah. Oh well, I guess that just falls into line with the rest of my morning…”

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Nest’s office was not as big as would be expected of a leader in his position. It was more reminiscent of a school principal’s office than a commander’s. A secretary’s desk, where Aurora sat, was in the first room. Without even looking up at the stallions, she pointed to Nest’s office. Both stallions went into the already open door.

Nest’s office was extremely well kept. A shelf on the left side of his desk held several plaques and medals. A large portrait of Celestia decorated the right side wall. Nest’s desk was slightly off center to the left, to allow for passage. A few stacks of papers and a plain name tag sat on top of the desk. The old green stallion was sitting looking at the papers when the two stallions walked in. He looked up and smiled.

“Ah, hello boys!”

Both stallions in front of him stood rigidly in salute. “Sir!” they said at the same time.

“At ease,” said Nest. “You two are the patrol leaders for today?”

Both stallions took a more relaxed stance. “Yes, sir. First Sergeant Headstrong and Staff Sergeant Coal Dust reporting for duty, sir!” yelled Headstrong.

“Alright,” Nest looked down at the desk and produced a manila envelope. “This one’s for you Headstrong. Go on, get moving! You have to leave in an hour!”

“Thank you, sir!” Headstrong said with a salute before he walked out of the room.

“Coal Dust, you hold on a second.” Nest dug around in a drawer, finally finding the correct envelope. “Here you are, son. Be sure to read that carefully, and I’ll see you this evening.”

Coal Dust saluted and walked out without a word. Headstrong was waiting in the hallway when Coal Dust walked out of the office.

“Did he try to give you another lecture?”

“Surprisingly, no. He just talked to me like I was still a recruit.”

“Wow, you got off pretty easy.” They had walked back out into the morning sunlight. 

The sun was quite a bit higher now; above the height where looking to the East for too long can be blinding. Still, it was morning, so it was quite chilly in the shadow cast by the building. Headstrong turned to the left and started walking, “I’ll catch up with you later, Dust!” He broke into a dead sprint to meet his team at the armory.

Coal Dust walked slowly back to his barracks, grumbling angrily over his new duties. Today was supposed to be a day off, and now he was stuck leading night patrol. His not-so-pleasant thoughts were accompanied by a scowl, one that made a younger recruit up ahead stop in his tracks and duck back in between the buildings.

The barracks door swung open, creaking loudly. The lights were on now, and a lot of noise and steam was radiating out of the showers. A few stallions sat on their beds with their hoof-lockers, looking at pictures of their marefriends or reading books. Coal Dust trotted over to his bunk and flopped down, shaking the entire bed frame. I guess now is as good a time as any. He picked up the envelope, sighed, then folded the top up and shook the papers out of it. A few landed on his lap, two more floated down and slid under the mattress. 

Coal Dust retrieved the two pages of his orders and climbed back into the bunk. He neatly stacked all of the papers in order, and began reading his file. 

The first page held a somewhat lengthy and standardized introduction. Having read it many times before, he set it aside without giving it a second thought. The second page was a topographical map. It showed the border with Changeling territory and its relation to the Crystal Empire, along with the elevation changes and several landmarks. His path was marked with a red line.

He studied the map closely, then set it aside. The third and fourth pages outlined his  assignment. It included various points along the route that needed a checkup, things to be on the lookout for, and a detailed description of the terrain.The farthest point they would make was not far past an outpost that sat about halfway in between the Changeling border and the Empire itself. After mulling over the description for a moment, he dropped the two information sheets and looked at the last page. 

The last page contained a small table. In it were the names of his squad mates.

Fire Chaser. At least I know someone on this list. He smiled slightly and looked over the rest of the list. Gust Rainstorm. Flash Point. Greenfield. The rest of the names were ones he did not recognize. He looked at the chart again and noticed that all three of them were part of the recruit station that sat adjacent to his quarters. That explained why he didn’t know the names. 

Shouting suddenly erupted from the showers. Blister, a light blue earth pony, came stumbling out of the shower, looking like he had been shoved out while laughing. “Hey! I was only going to—” he began to yell through the open door but stopped. 

A loud chorus of stallion’s voices curtly answered with, “SHUT THE BUCK UP! 

Coal Dust chuckled to himself while the dripping wet stallion walked back to his bunk. Once he reached it, he had a small epiphany, so he slunk back over to the shower doorway. “Can I have my towel?” he yelled through the entrance. A white towel promptly smacked him in the face. “Thanks!” he yelled sarcastically. 

Coal Dust’s eyes moved from Blister to the orange unicorn that was just coming out of the shower. He was running a towel over his head.

“Morning, Dust,” Fire Chaser said calmly.

“Good morning.” Coal Dust looked down at the papers. “Hey, I need to talk to you,” he said. Fire Chaser continued rubbing his towel over his mane while a few drips of water rained down on Coal Dust. “And watch it; I already had my shower!”

“Sorry,” replied the orange stallion with a grin. He stepped back and continued drying himself. “What was it you needed to talk to me about?”

“New patrol schedule.”

“Ouch. How bad is it?”

“It isn’t pretty. They’re giving us three a day now instead of just one.”

“What, why!?”

“Nest said something about bigger threats from the new Changeling king over there.”

“They got a new king?” Fire Chaser said through the towel, as he wiped his face.

“Yep, and it looks like he’s not someone to mess with. They must be worried that he’s gonna do something reckless soon like invade.” Coal Dust scratched his head, “Anyways, back to the patrols. Because of these new schedules, I got put on for tonight—”

“That sucks,” interrupted Fire Chaser. He was now digging through his hoof locker. 

Coal Dust sat up and moved to the side of the bed. “Let me finish. My patrol is going to leave tonight at about sundown, and you’re part of it.”

Fire Chaser’s head shot up. “Tonight? Me?” he sounded a bit distraught. 

“Yes, you. Here’s the roster.” Coal Dust tossed the sheet of paper to his friend, who caught it and immediately started to read through it, all the while his expression getting angrier and angrier. Finally he threw the paper down. 

“Dammit! I had a big date tonight!”

“That’s too bad,” Coal Dust replied.

“It IS too bad! You know what I have to do now?” Fire Chaser said. Coal Dust shook his head. “I have to get some flowers and try to explain to her to why I have to cancel. I’ve had this date planned for an entire month!” Fire Chaser reared back on his hind legs and dug under his mattress, retrieving a small bag of bits. “Do you know how much she’s been looking forward to this? Because I do—oh yes, I do, and I also know how it’s gonna make me look to have to cancel. Dammit man, I’m gonna need a wagonful of flowers to keep her happy!” 

Coal Dust had been trying his hardest to contain himself, but lost control. He rolled over on his bed, belly aching from laughter at his bunkmate’s hysterics. 

“Sure, this is all just a big joke to you! Well, I have a heartfelt apology to whip up in a few minutes, so if you’ll excuse me...” Fire Chaser started running to the door. 

“Fire Chaser?” Coal Dust said between laughs.

“What?!”

“Your horseshoe’s loose.”

Fire Chaser looked down at his hooves frantically. Each horseshoe was perfectly straight and tight. “Yeah, funny. I’ll see you later!” He burst out of the door, hitting his head in the process. Coal Dust collapsed into another laughing fit.

A few minutes later, Coal Dust rose from bed and made the short journey across the path that separated his barracks from the huts of the recruit station. Before he opened the door to the quonset hut, he checked his list again. According to it, he would find Gust and Greenfield inside of this hut; Flash Point was in another one just down the way. He cracked the door open and the familiar smell of boot camp filled his nostrils. 

The walls of the sheet metal hut were lined with bunkbeds. Hoof lockers flanked the ends of each bed. A foldable ping-pong table sat in the middle of the room. Aside from that, the place was quite plain, almost exactly what Coal Dust remembered from his own experience back at the academy outside of Fillydelphia. 

A few of the recruits inside were laying in their bunks reading. Two more were walking down from the other end, talking so loudly that they were almost yelling at one another. When they spotted the newcomer, they immediately took the rigid attention stance. 

“At ease,” said Coal Dust. The two recruits walked forward slowly, now silent. “I was wondering if you two could help me. I’m looking for two recruits; They go by the names of Gust Rainstorm and Greenfield. Do you know where I could find them?”

One of the recruits spoke,” Yeah, I’m Greenfield.”

“Good, I need you to come with me. Do you know where to find Gust?”

“He’s down at the mess hall right now. I can go get him if you want, sir,” Greenfield said with a bit of eagerness in his voice.

“No, that’s alright. If you could just step outside with me for a moment, I need to talk to you.” Coal Dust turned and walked to the door; Greenfield hesitantly followed. When they were outside, Coal Dust quickly explained the situation. Greenfield reacted enthusiastically, as it would be the first time he went on patrol. 

“Thank you, sir!” he said as he ran back inside. “Hey guys, guess what!” The door slammed shut, muffling the joyous yelling from the stallion.

Coal Dust groaned. Judging by the overly-enthusiastic reaction, Greenfield had never gone out on patrol before. Now I have a greenhorn to break in, great. Huh, Greenfield the greenhorn. Maybe someday I’ll be a freaking comedian. He chuckled to himself at the pun and walked down the row to the hut at the end. It looked almost identical to the first inside and out. Coal Dust found Flash Point laying in his bunk, took him outside, and gave him the same speech that he just gave the other stallion. 

“Are you serious?” asked Flash Point. 

“As a heart attack. I need you to meet me at the armory at about four o’ clock. I’ll go over the mission plan a little more in depth then.”

Flash Point groaned, “Alright. I’ll see you then, sir.” With a half-hearted salute, he slunk back into the building. Coal Dust slowly made his way over to the mess hall. Armed with a brief description from Greenfield, he set about finding the last member of his squad.

The mess hall was a good deal more full than when he was there earlier. A low roar of talking and the clattering of kitchen utensils filled the air alongside the smell of oatmeal. A good number of stallions sat at the tables, some silently and others talking loudly. 

Coal Dust stood near the door and scanned the cafeteria for a small brown stallion with golden hair. It took a moment to sort through the crowd, but he eventually found him at a table near the back of the room.

“Gust Rainstorm?” asked Coal Dust, still a few feet away from the table.

“Yessir, that’s me.” Gust still was somewhat distracted by his food and his friends.

“Would you come with me please?” 

“Yeah, sure.” He stood up and bid farewell to his group, then rounded the table and followed Coal Dust over to a corner of the room.

The same speech about the new schedule passed through the black Pegasus’s lips. Whereas Greenfield had been enthusiastic, Fire Chaser had been surprised, and Flash Point had been upset, Gust was calm. 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you at four.” Gust turned around and walked back to his table, leaving the other stallion with the anticipation of a reaction.

It was mid-morning, and hunger was becoming a nuisance. Breakfast had been an unmitigated disaster, so going to eat lunch didn’t exactly sound appealing. Still, nature called, so after his meeting with Gust he went and joined the food line. 

To his surprise, lunch went off without a hitch. The food was at least decent and no embarrassing events took place. Afterwards, he was left with quite a bit of free time. Some stallions would have taken the opportunity to go off base, go gambling, go to the theatre, wrestle, or do some other recreational activity. With the type of luck he had been having, Coal Dust instead decided to go the safer route and just go back  to his bunk and read. 

An astronomy book and a bottle of soda kept him company for much of the rest of the afternoon. He dozed off for a few minutes and got rewarded by a towel whip to the nose. A short and easy wrestling match with Blister later, he looked at the clock and realized that it was already time to head to the armory. With a groan, he put the book away and headed for what had become known as Nest’s Hidey-Hole. Naturally, he was the first one there.

The armory was a sheet metal building, similar to the recruit station huts. It was, however, much shorter and had no windows lining the sides. Inside, shelves upon shelves of equipment  lined the walls. They contained everything from armor to packs, weapons, such as knives, swords, and bows, to medical kits and everything in between. Each article was neatly stacked and organized according to type. A row of hanging lights ran down the center of the hut, providing at best mediocre lighting to the room. 

Coal Dust walked in and sat down on the table that lay in the middle of the room. After an already long day of mess-ups and sleep deprivation, he was ready to go back to bed. Maybe I could sleep through the rest of the winter. Wouldn’t that be nice? For a few minutes, he sat still on the table and rested his head in his hooves. He had almost drifted off to sleep when the door opened. Flash Point walked through the door with another unicorn. 

“I’ll see you later, bud,” said Flash to his friend. They bumped hooves and parted ways, Flash walking over to the still groggy Coal Dust. The other unicorn walked back out of the door. A rush of cool air accompanied his exit, followed by a slam.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Flash Point said to Coal Dust, who jumped down from the table.

“Yeah, sure.” The stallion still hadn’t fully regained his alertness. 

Flash Point shrugged, “Whatever.” He turned and walked down the row, grabbing two packs and throwing them onto the table. He stopped on the shelf that ran across the end of the hut.

The door opened, and in trotted a much happier looking Fire Chaser. “Hey Dusty!” he yelled when he saw his friend.

“Where have you been all day? I haven’t seen you since you ran out this morning.”

“Oh, you know. Out and about, getting my story straight.” He looked frazzled, like he had just gotten through putting a hundred foals to bed. 

Coal Dust smiled, “So how did she take it?”

“She was a little mad, but all in all, she took it pretty well. I was expecting her to cut my head off!” 

“I bet. So why did it take so long?”

Fire Chaser grimaced, “Well, uh, you wouldn’t expect me to pass up on an opportunity to spend a day out on the town, would you?”

“No, I guess not,” replied Coal Dust warily. A small red mark on Fire Chaser’s neck caught his eye, “What’s that little thing there on your neck?”

The orange stallion’s pupils shrank to the size of pinheads, “What thing?”

“It looks like a hickey to me…”

“What hickey?!” demanded Fire Chaser.

Coal Dust laughed, “Day out on the town, my hoof! You were getting a quick once-over, weren’t you?”

Fire Chaser’s orange cheeks turned a bright shade of red, “Maybe I was, so what?”

“Calm down, you’re only making this funnier!” Flash Point yelled from the back of the room.

“Both of you can go kiss off!” yelled Fire Chaser. 

“Alright, don’t get sand under your saddle. We’re just giving you a hard time!”

Flash Point chimed in from the back of the room, “Or was it you that gave her a hard time?” 

Fire Chaser just shook his head and walked to the other end of the hut. Both Coal Dust and Flash Point enjoyed a hearty laugh. 

“What’s going on in here?” asked a small brown stallion s he came in the door.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Inside joke!” Flash Point answered quickly.

Gust stepped in cautiously, followed by Greenfield. Coal Dust had recovered from the laughter enough now to speak, “Good, you’re all here. I need everyone down at the end of the building.”

The four ponies went down to the end of the hut, where Flash Point was still chuckling to himself at his own joke. Coal Dust grabbed the envelope and emptied the contents out onto the table. Each stallion grabbed a sheet.

Coal Dust began, “This is our patrol map…,” and launched into a detailed run through of the mission plan covering the layout of the mission, the route, objectives, and other details. Most of the soldiers didn't need this information, as most patrols were exactly the same routine, but the one greenhorn in the room called for a once over of the plans “...and that about sums it all up. Everypony good?” All four nodded. “Alright, then let’s go get our gear together.” He clapped his hooves, “Let’s go!”

The five ponies assembled all of the necessary items they would need for the patrol. Snowshoes, goggles, extra food, first aid supplies, a few pieces of weaponry, and armor among other things. The armor wasn’t too extensive, just something that would help protect them from the elements more than anything. By the time they were finished, the sun was beginning to flirt with the horizon. 

The door opened once again, this time admitting a green stallion with a buzzed short gray mane. “Good evening, boys,” said Nest.

All five ponies froze in place and saluted, “Ten hut!” 

“At ease.” All five ponies relaxed, “Now, you all are set to head out for evening patrol duty.”

“Yes sir!”

“And you all know the plans inside and out?”

“Yes, sir!” replied all five ponies in unison.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go over them again for you?”

All five ponies groaned mentally at the thought of having a Commander Nest style lecture, “Sir! No, sir!”

“Good. I’m glad to know I’ve got good soldiers working with me.” He turned to the door, “Good luck, boys. I’ll see you in the morning! Carry on!” 

“Good night, sir!” The door closed. The ponies went back to their preparations.

Flash Point began, “That was close! We almost had to sit through another lecture.” All five ponies breathed a sigh of relief. For the rest of the time, they worked in silence. When all were ready, they gathered at the door.

Coal Dust looked at his squad, “Are you all ready to do this?”

“Yeah!” yelled Greenfield, perhaps a bit too loud; Gust cringed and held a hoof over his ear. The rest nodded.

“Alright then, let's go!” All five ponies fell into line, trotting through the door and out into the compound. A few other stallions gave a salute as the group passed. They passed the gate, which was already held open by the gatekeeper. A left turn would have taken them into the city, but they kept right, taking them past the last few outlying homes and towards the edge of the city. They passed under the gateway arch, took a deep breath, and plunged through the magic field that kept the Empire from being covered with snow. 

The magic left a warm sensation when they passed through it, running from their noses to the tips of their tails. The warmth passed quickly, replaced by deep cold in their hooves. The snow crunched under their hooves, coming up to about pastern depth. 

“Good thing we packed snowshoes!” exclaimed Greenfield. Each stallion pulled the set of snowshoes from their backs and fitted them to their hooves. As they put on their shoes, the earlier patrol appeared over a small hill. Six stallions, each caked with snow and ice, came trotting up to the five that were there.

Coal Dust began, “Hey Apache! How’s the weather out there?”

Apache, the leader of the patrol, answered, “There’s a good old fashioned blizzard coming in from the Changeling zone! It starts getting pretty bad up around the cabin, and it’s nearly whiteout all the way to the fence!”

Coal Dust frowned, “Sounds fun! Oh well. Good seeing you, Apache!”

“Good to see you too, Coal Dust. Good luck out there!”

Coal Dust fitted his goggles over his face, “Thanks!” The two groups split, the earlier patrol entering the relative warmth of the shield while Coal Dust’s group walked away from it. The final glimpse of safety came when the last stallion ducked through the shield, and then they were alone again. They took one last look at the Empire and trotted on their way.

The group didn't keep to any tight formations or any real structure. It was almost a stroll through the snow-packed tundra more than a patrol. As they went along, Coal Dust kept an eye on his compass and frequently checked the map to make sure they were on the right path. As they went along, a few light flakes of snow began falling. Not much at first, but it soon started picking up. 

“They weren’t kidding about the storm,” said Fire Chaser, breaking the silence.

“They sure weren’t,” said Coal Dust.

Gust joined the conversation, “Can’t the Changelings control their weather like we do?”

Coal Dust, the only Pegasus in the group, had the greatest knowledge of weather. “I’m not sure. Everything they do over there is strange, and that includes weather. I think they just let it go wild and try to ignore what it does. Because they don’t control it, it often sends a lot of snow our way. It usually dies out before it gets too far into Equestria…”

“Geez, sorry I asked,” interrupted Gust.

“Fine. I’ll shut up,” replied Coal Dust. Silence again prevailed over the group. For the next hour, most of the walk passed without another word. 

It was pitch dark, snow was falling quite heavily, and the winds had greatly picked up from the time they left the Empire to when they came into view of the cabin. The two unicorns used light spells to see in the rapidly deteriorating conditions At first, it was only a faint glow through the storm, but it soon revealed itself from behind the curtain of snowfall. 

Coal Dust looked at Greenfield. “This is your first patrol, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just watch out for the old coot that lives here. He can be a little bit crazy sometimes.”

“Okay, I will!”

The five ponies all grouped up on the porch of the small cabin. Coal Dust rapped on the door, sending an echoing knock through the small room on the other side. Some hoofsteps and a crash later, the door cracked open a hair. “Patrol?” asked a dry and scratchy voice. 

Coal Dust answered, “Patrol!”

The voice behind the door cracked a little, “What’s the password?”

Coal Dust rolled his eyes, “Gravy stew.”

The door clicked shut, a bit of fidgeting occurred, and the door swung wide open. An old yellow stallion with a wooden pipe in his mouth stood in the open doorway.

“How are you, Jackshot?”, asked Coal Dust.

Jackshot smiled, “About like a sharecropper in a dry year, Dusty. My old bones aren’t putting up with this cold so well anymore!” The pipe swung precariously from his lips with each word, but never came too close to falling. 

“Isn’t that the way of the world?”

“Let me tell you about it, son. Come on in for a minute and warm your hooves, yer gonna get frostbite!”

The patrol went in to the cabin, each soldier breathing a sigh of relief after getting out of the cold. The old stallion plopped down in a chair while the soldiers gathered around the wood stove in the corner. 

Jackshot began, “I wasn’t expecting to see you until next Tuesday, Dusty. Come to think of it, Apache wasn’t due here until tomorrow. What’s the deal?”

Coal Dust looked back at the old pony, “There’s been some new stuff coming out of the Changeling zone, so they want extra patrols to make sure that nothing’s going on.”

“Well that’s the first I’ve heard of it! I swear that Nest is makin’ a point not to let me know things anymore.”

“Well remember, your job isn’t exactly on the grid. We don’t have these stops on the official schedule.”

“I guess so, but you’d think he’d send a note or at least have somepony tell me!”

Coal Dust chuckled, “I do have a copy of the schedule with me if you want it.”

Jackshot stood up, “You’re derned right I want it!” 

“I thought so.” Coal Dust backed out of the huddle around the stove, “Could you look at something for me?”

“Sure, what is it?”

Coal Dust took the map out, “They screwed up our planned path. They want us to go over the hogback.”

“What are they, blasted fools?” The hogback was an infamously jagged ridge that ran from just west of the Empire up to the northwest. It laid just about two miles west of Jackshot’s outpost and continued up into Changeling territory. “Here, let me see it.”

Jackshot took a quick glance at the map, “Yep, they done messed it up.” He pointed to  a spot on the ridge just northwest of the cabin, “There’s a spot you can get through right about there. I’ve been through it myself a couple of times, so you can get through there. It may be a tight squeeze, though.” 

Coal Dust took a pencil and marked the pass, “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“If I had a bit for every time I’ve heard that come out of your mouth…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Okay, back to what you said before. There’s news from the Changelings?”

Coal Dust took a seat across from the old yellow earth pony, “They’ve got a new king.”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Apparently he’s a radical. One of those who wants to take over Equestria, typical stuff.”

“Even after that whoopin’ we gave those sorry love-thieves back in the first war?”

Flash Point turned his head and opened his mouth to speak, but decided against correcting the old stallion. He instead nodded, “You wouldn’t think so. They must not be too bright.”

Jackshot frowned, “I wouldn’t underestimate those little suckers. They can be pretty nasty, ‘specially when you get a group of ‘em on your tail!”

Flash Point turned back to the stove before he would say something he would regret. The soldiers stood around the fire for a few more minutes while Coal Dust chatted with the old stallion. 

The conversation began to wind down, and Coal Dust stood up, “Well, it’s been good seeing you, but we had better get back on our way.” He looked at the huddled ponies around the fire, “Alright boys, time to go!”

The soldiers groaned and made their way to the door. Each one murmured a goodbye to Jackshot. Before Coal Dust followed the others out, Jackshot pulled him aside. 

“Be careful out there. This storm is gonna be a big one!”

Coal Dust was expecting something with a slightly deeper meaning and was caught slightly off guard. “I will. Watch out for yourself, old timer.”

Jackshot smiled and slapped the black stallion on the shoulder, “Good luck.”

Coal Dust smiled and stepped out onto the porch. The snow was whipping around the corner of the porch, spraying his face with white powder. He squinted and walked back out into the snow, which was becoming considerably deep. He waved to Jackshot one last time, looked at his team, and set out once again. 

The mission plan had called for the patrol to move past the outpost and go along the hogback to about halfway between the fence and the cabin, adding an additional ten or so miles to the walk. If they went quickly, they might be able to return by sunrise.

The snowing had increased since the ponies had stopped; it would now qualify as a full-on blizzard. It drove its way through their pelts in the uncovered spots and down to their skin. The snow that made its way down to skin was quickly melted by body heat, chilling the stallions further. Each gust of wind sent the cold deeper into the stallion’s bodies.

They walked silently again, heading towards the ridge that was hidden by the snow. As they walked, Fire Chaser noticed something.  He moved up alongside Coal Dust and tapped his shoulder.

“Do you see that?”

Coal Dust whipped his head around, “See what?”

“Shh.” Fire Chaser pointed his hoof and whispered, “Look left, ten o’ clock.”

Coal Dust followed the hoof to the left. He squinted, peering as far into the storm as he could. Up on a small rise, only about a hundred yards away, was a group of what appeared to be small black ponies. 

“Kill that light, Flash Point.” The unicorn powered down his horn. Coal Dust continued watching the forms as they moved along the rise. Then he turned and whispered to the team, “Alright, game plan. Fire Chaser and I will move in to investigate. You three stay back a little ways and be ready to act. This could get ugly.” He turned to Fire Chaser, “Let’s go.”

Coal Dust and Fire Chaser crouched low, almost to their bellies, and began to move toward the suspected targets. The other three waited a moment and followed a short distance behind.

Up on the hill, the three forms trudged through the storm. The leader walked a short distance ahead of the others. The one behind him held a map, and a third followed along silently. The leader looked back at the map-holder,“There was ssupposed to be a cabin around here somewhere!”

“Well, I’m doing my best to find the thing, cut me some slack!” yelled the map-holder.

“Are you sure this was such a good idea - to invade in a blizzard?”  asked the third form.

The form holding the map looked back with annoyance, “Yes. Yes it is. Just think of all of the cover that this snow is giving us!” 

Watching intently from fifty feet away while laying flat on their bellies, Coal Dust and Fire Chaser listened to the conversation. While they couldn’t visually see what the forms were, the voices identified them as Changelings. Nest said they won’t go peacefully. I guess we have to engage... The thought of what was about to happen sent a different kind of shiver down Coal Dust’s spine.

“We are engaging. Sneak around to the other side and we will attack at your go,” whispered Coal Dust. He tapped Fire Chaser’s shoulder, and the orange stallion began a wide loop around to the other side of the slowly moving group of Changelings. 

A few tense minutes passed, and the moment came. A low glow appeared on the other side of the group, and Coal Dust sprang from his spot on the ground and charged. The Changelings had turned toward the orange light from Fire Chaser, just as Coal Dust jumped at the leader and an orange beam cut through the map-holder’s chest. The leader spun around, only to be knocked flat by a heavy hoof that connected with his jaw. He reeled backwards, shook his head, and sprang forward onto Coal Dust. 

While the two group leaders struggled, the third member of the Changeling party took aim. His green charge built, but just before he had a chance to fire it, another orange beam impacted the side of his head. The green shot was sent straight into the ground when the Changeling’s head jerked forward, and he fell like a rag doll to the ground.

In the ongoing fight, Coal Dust had quite a worthy adversary. Both lashed out, back and forth, on and on. However, the Changeling was just slightly less skilled in the art of hoof-to-hoof combat. As they wrestled around, every so often Coal Dust would deliver a heavy hit to his head. Teal-colored blood was running from his mouth and forehead.

The fight was slowly turning in Coal Dust’s favor. The lead Changeling was growing less and less capable. His swings were softer and more badly placed. Finally, Coal Dust grabbed hold of one the forelegs when the leader tried to attack. Then, with complete control over his opponent, he quickly ended the fight. He drew his knife, and finished the Changeling with one swift jab.

The sound of a knife being used in combat is often described as one of the most nauseating sounds known. The knife scraped against exoskeleton, giving a resounding ring; It lived up to the reputation. The changeling quickly went limp, signalling the end of the fight. With the deed done, Coal Dust stood up. A forlorn look was plastered across his normally kind face. Though the nausea never set in, it still took its toll.

For some reason, a memory of his swingset from home played through his mind. Maybe it was temporary insanity, maybe it was a subconscious attempt to cope with having just killed the first thing in his life that was any bigger than a squirrel. Either way, the same happy memory continued flashing through his head. 

A tap on his shoulder broke the trance. He looked over at Fire Chaser, who was almost cowering next to him as if he expected a violent reaction. When the reaction didn’t come, he relaxed. “You okay?”

Coal Dust sighed, “Yeah, I’m okay.” He looked down at the corpse at his hooves, then back to Fire Chaser. “Get the others up here.” Fire Chaser trotted off, and just a moment later returned with the three other stallions in tow. 

The reactions were quite varied among the other three. Greenfield leaned over and vomited when he saw the corpses. 

Flash Point frowned, “You got kills and I wasn’t he-oof!” Fire Chaser punched him in the ribs to shut him up. 

Gust was indifferent. He looked at the three Changeling corpses neutrally, almost coldly, then stood silently, watching Coal Dust.

Coal Dust turned around and faced the rest of the group. A small trickle of blood was running from a cut on his forehead. “Remember what you saw here.  Remember every detail so you can report it to Nest. Remember-”

Gust’s eyes widened, “Oh hell, GET DOWN!” Before anypony could drop for cover, a green glow lit up the area like a flare and an explosion ripped through the air. 
> Chapter three: Escape
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	 A few golden leaves lazily floated down from the canopy of trees. Under the canopy of the trees, a small pool of shrinking shade remained as the sun sank down in the West. The piles of leaves were starting to grow deeper with each day as the windfalls accumulated. Tomorrow the rest of them would come down in the Running of the Leaves.

A gentle breeze carried the clean smell of winter with it. Snow would be here in a few days, but there were still a little bit of time left in fall to enjoy before the adult Pegasus ponies brought in the change of seasons. Aiming to make the most of the few crisp, clean days left, Coal Dust spent nearly every spare second outside. 

Under the safety of the canopy, his swingset was his castle. When his friends came to play, the possibilities were endless. The lightly rusted chains on the swings became vines to swing through an imaginary jungle. A few slight modifications and a good bit of imagination could transform it into an impenetrable fortress. The joys of friendship knew no bounds on those old swings. 

Today was a bit different. His friends could not come, so he sat on the swing calmly, looking down the path and waiting for his father to return from work. Usually his father would come down that path as the sun touched the horizon. He would be covered in black soot so thick that the only points visible were his eyes. His hard hat, filled with dents that served as a constant reminder of his many brushes with death, would ride low on his head. His every breath would be accompanied by strange wheezes and frequent coughs. Until he returned home, he would walk with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Seeing his son at the end of a long day lifted that weight and left it just around the corner, out of view of their modest home. 

It was almost sundown now, and the anticipation of seeing his father at the end of a long and boring day was mounting. The shadows grew long; it was almost time for his father to come down the path. 

He was late. The sun was halfway down below the horizon, the shadows had all congealed into one large blanket of shade, and yet his father had not come. 

Down the pathway, barely visible, came a stallion's figure. Excitement bubbled over, and Coal Dust leapt from the swing to go meet it. He ran as fast as his short legs would take him, nearly tripping over his own hooves, but as he neared the silhouette, something seemed off. The stallion coming down the path was not built in the same way as his father. He also walked differently. As Coal Dust neared the stallion, he slowed his pace. Just before they met, he stopped.

"Coal Dust?" asked the stallion. His voice was very familiar.

"Mister Sandblast? Is that you?"

Sandblast stepped close enough so that Coal Dust could see his face. It was stained black with soot. "Do you know where your mother is?" A faint air of urgency mixed in with his voice.

In the house, Coal Dust's mother was finishing supper preparations while watching out the window ever more frequently. Her husband's unusual lateness had her worried, and to take her mind off  it, she started working herself into a frenzy. When Sandblast knocked at the door, she rushed to open it, nearly knocking a vase over in the process.

Sandblast began shakily, taking his hard hat in his hooves. "Winterfly..."

"Please, Sandblast. Come in." Judging by his strangely quiet manner, Winterfly expected the worst. Her heart sank as she led him inside.

Outside, Coal Dust had returned to his swing. He did not know what to expect, but he knew that it was not good and that it involved his father. Dread of learning his father's fate turned to frustration. In angst, he began swinging. Higher and higher he went with each push he continued pushing his swings further still. Even when the chain went slack at the top of the arc, he kept pushing. Higher. Faster. 

At the top of one of the highest swings, the chains folded up on themselves. After falling nearly upside down for a split-second, the swing snapped back upright violently. Coal Dust was thrown straight down into the ground, luckily landing on his side instead of his head. Dull pain spread from the impact, though not enough to make him cry. His head did smack into the ground on impact, making his left ear ring. 

The wind kicked up the pain in his side turned to burning and stinging. Amongst the ringing in his head, a faint voice whispered, "What are you doing?" The burning sensation was intensifying. "Get up..." The voice also grew, as if it was getting closer. "Come on..."

With the sudden wind came new cold. He thought it was strange, as the Pegasi would not bring in the cold front for two more days. Whatever the reason for the wind, it only made matters worse. ”Wake up!” He thought, why would that voice tell me to wake up if I’m already awake? The pain was becoming unbearable. ”Sergeant!” Finally, the voice screamed right in his ear, ”Coal Dust!” The autumn night rushed away in an instant, and was replaced by snow.


***


“Coal Dust!” Fire Chaser yelled again, louder than the last time. A low groan from the downed stallion signified that he was still alive. Fire Chaser looked over at Greenfield, “Here, help me get him up!” Greenfield quickly ran over and tried lifting Coal Dust on his own. “Slow down, you’re gonna hurt him!”

Greenfield nervously laughed and slowed down his efforts, equally pacing himself with Fire Chaser. Slowly but surely, they managed to get Coal Dust up on his hooves. Though wobbly at first, he soon came fully awake.

“W-what happened?” asked Coal Dust weakly. Another beam landed somewhat farther away from them.

“We’ll talk later, just catch your breath,” answered Fire Chaser. More beams sailed past over their heads. He looked at Flash Point, “ Flash! You could at least return fire!”

Flash Point turned around without hesitation and fired in the general direction of the first shot, but having no way of knowing if he hit anything due to the the whiteout of the storm lowering visibility. Another shot answered him quickly, this time impacting the hill just below them. 

“Come on, let’s go!” yelled Gust from his still hunkered down position. Fire Chaser shot him a glare.

“Flash Point, do you know where they are?” Coal Dust asked. He was still trying to get his bearings straight. In the blast, hot debris had embedded itself into his side. Though not very deep, the fragments still caused him considerable pain. “Easy! Easy,” he said to Greenfield, who was trying to throw his packs onto his back.

“Are you okay?” asked Fire Chaser.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Coal Dust said through gritted teeth. In reality, the pain in his side was excruciating. 

“I can’t see them. We can’t stay here much longer!” yelled Flash Point as he fired another beam into the storm. 

“Is everypony ready to go?” asked Fire Chaser. He was becoming frantic. Another beam hit the hill nearby, sending a less intense shower of debris over the patrol.

Coal Dust fit his packs gingerly over his back. “Let’s go! Run!” Without hesitation, every member of the team took off, making sure to follow the tracks they had made on the journey up the hill. They couldn’t sprint because of Coal Dust‘s injuries, but ran as fast as he could. At least, most of them did. Just as he turned to run along with the others, Flash Point’s luck ran out. A flash of green light arced down and cut into his hind legs. He screamed, falling like a stone.

The blood-curdling cry that Flash Point let out as he went down echoed through everypony’s ears. They stopped dead in their tracks, whipping around to see the fallen soldier. Gust tried to go back to Flash Point, but another beam flew in, knocking him backwards.

“Come on, we have to go back for him!” Greenfield yelled as he, too, started running back toward Flash Point.

“Are you crazy? There’s more of them every second!” yelled Fire Chaser as another green shot flew overhead. Though he didn’t say it, it was easy to tell that he felt the need to go back for Flash Point, too.

Gust had already gotten up and started going back. “Are you all coming or what?”
Coal Dust looked at his group with uncertainty, but finally nodded. The three ponies took off ahead of him, since he wasn’t back to full strength from the first blast. 

Flash Point was coming into more and more distress with each passing second. A glance at the site of the hit revealed that his right hind leg was partly missing. Thankfully, the heat from the beam had done a decent job of cauterizing the wound. 

“Flash!” Greenfield yelled as he approached. In his haste, he accidentally kicked some snow at Flash’s face, but the pain from his wound kept Flash Point from even noticing. Fire Chaser ran up just behind Greenfield, followed by Gust. 

“You two get him up, I’ll cover you!” Fire Chaser powered up his horn and fired a beam back at the Changelings. While he was shooting, Gust and Greenfield tried to carry Flash Point. Altogether, they managed five yards before having to set him back down again. 	

Without warning, two more beams came flying in. One landed just shy of the injured stallion, knocking his helpers away from him. The second beam came in just as they stumbled back. This time, it struck at Greenfield’s hooves. The entire group was obscured by a cloud of snow and smoke.

No… Coal Dust watched it happen helplessly. The second beam sliced through the air. BOOM! Greenfield disappeared in the cloud, along with Flash Point. Gust was violently thrown  backwards, away from the explosion. Fire Chaser was nowhere to be seen.

“NO!” yelled Coal Dust as he tried to push himself to run faster to his team. For the first time in a long while, there was an air of stillness around him. It seemed to take hours for him to run the final few yards. 

Two deep craters scarred the site where there had once been an entire team of soldiers standing. As Coal Dust walked up, the first thing he noticed was a blackened and horribly disfigured form. Flash Point. Before he could even approach the body, Coal Dust felt a twinge in his stomach and threw up. Seeing it from a distance was enough.

Where’s Greenfield? The rookie was nowhere to be seen. However, a slight stain of crimson in one of the craters confirmed the fact that he was indeed gone. 

No… No! This isn’t happening! Increasingly distraught, Coal Dust searched around for the other three, and as he did, the beams once again began firing. Though not as well aimed as before, they were increasing in number. 

A short distance away from where the other three had been, another crumpled form caught Coal Dust’s eye. Without getting close, he could tell it was Fire Chaser. As he approached his best friend’s body, a low groan distracted him. 

After a brief moment of indecision, he chose to go to the sound. Though he was certain he had heard it, he could not tell where it had come from. He looped back to the craters and again felt nausea at the sight of Flash Point. Still, no sign of Gust. 

“Uhhhh,” said a muffled voice from behind him. Coal Dust whipped around to face the sound, but again saw nothing. 

Another groan led Coal Dust‘s eyes to a hole in a snowdrift. It looked about the right size for a stallion, and Coal Dust stepped closer to investigate. 

“Gust?” he asked into the hole. Another groan answered him. Taking care not to hit Gust with his hooves, Coal Dust began digging into the snow at the bottom of the hole. It wasn’t long before his hoof scraped against something at the bottom. 

Frantically brushing the snow away, he found a hoof that connected to a chest. Judging by the orientation, Coal Dust aimed his digging so as to free Gust’s head from the snow. With Gust’s head free, Coal Dust grabbed the hoof and pulled the rest of him out of the hole.

As he pulled Gust out of the snowbank, he realized that he was injured. Badly.  Blood was oozing from his nose. His face was pale; starting to turn blue. One leg was twisted at an odd angle, and he had debris embedded in his face and chest. Not only were they in a worse place than Coal Dust‘s fragmentation wounds, they were much deeper and more severe. 

Confused and disoriented, he sat down in the snow.  He suddenly remembered his friend’s lifeless form just a short distance away. He looked up and noticed an oddly placed swing set that was sitting near the crater. He blinked his eyes hard and the swingset disappeared. BOOM! Another nearby blast rocked Coal Dust from his trance. 

His instincts took over. With one swift movement, he picked up the unconscious Gust from the ground and threw him over his back. Adrenaline rushed through his body, and the weight of the stallion on his back became unimportant. With one final look back over his shoulder, he departed from the scene at a full gallop.

With the weight of the smaller stallion on his back and the still-fresh wounds from the initial blast, Coal Dust could not keep running for long. At the same time, running too fast resulted in Gust being violently thrown about. At one point he almost completely slid off, forcing Coal Dust to slow his pace further to prevent any more injury to the blast victim on his back. The beams were steadily increasing, yet most of them fell far away from the two remaining stallions. With a generous amount of luck, they managed to escape into the cover of the growing snowstorm.





“How many can you count?” hissed the officer Changeling as he walked up to the site of the encounter.

“Three of ours, sir. Two of theirs. Maybe a third,” said the first Changeling to arrive on the scene.

“What do you mean, ‘maybe three’? How many was it?”

“That's just it, sir; I can’t really tell. It looks like one went in the explosion, one took a shot to the head, and there are pieces of what might have been one more in the explosion.” The first responder pointed to Fire Chaser’s limp body, which was now becoming covered over with snow. Flash Point lay just a short distance behind, almost completely buried next to the crater.

The leader walked slowly amongst the corpses, inspecting each one personally and ensuring that the were indeed dead. Then something caught his eye. Amongst the bodies was a set of hoofprints too large to belong to a Changeling. 

“What are those?” he snapped at his subordinate. 

The subordinate cringed, “What are what, sir?” He looked around like he couldn’t see anything on the ground.

“Those hoofprints. They don’t belong to any of you, so whose are they? Did you let one escape?” The leader was glaring daggers at the first responder.

The subordinate swallowed nervously, “We couldn't see what we were firing at almost the entire time! We thought there were only two of them to begin with!”

“You idiot, there are never less than four ponies on a patrol. You know that! What did all of that training even teach you?!”

It was becoming ever more difficult for the subordinate to find the words to speak, “Well, uh…” Finally, he steeled himself, “We messed up, sir.”

“You’re damn right you messed up! Do you know what the one who escaped is going to do?”

“N-no, sir.” The subordinate looked at the ground.

The leader blinked rigidly and stuck his face directly in front of the subordinate’s. “He is going to alert his army! Now they’ll have even more time to get ready! You blew it!”

The subordinate stood silently, unsure of when the leader would finish his rant.

“Well, how about it? Am I going to have to report your name to Chrytion?"

The subordinate’s heart nearly skipped a beat, “No! Please!”

The leader took on a different tone, looking at the holes in his foreleg. “Well, I see one way around that. You get your worthless tail on this set of tracks and hope that they don’t get covered in this storm. If you can’t show a body to me by morning then I won’t mind showing yours to Chrytion!” 

The subordinate snapped a foreleg to his head, “Yes, sir. I will get it done.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go!” At the command, the subordinate sped off down the quickly disappearing trail.




Alone out in the storm, Jackshot’s cabin stood as an inviting refuge for Coal Dust and Gust. The snow had even further intensified by the time the half frozen and utterly exhausted ponies made their way to the porch. Coal Dust knocked weakly on the door. Fumbling and hoofsteps sounded from the crack at the bottom of the door. After a crash and a loud ‘dagnabbit!’ from the other side, the door opened, ever so slightly.

“Who’s there?” asked a much more pointed and short voice than before.

“Jackshot. Please! It’s Coal Dust!” No sooner had the words left his lips than the door swung open.

“Celestia in the sun, what happened to you two?!” The wooden pipe fell from his mouth and clattered on the floor.

“Please, just help us, I’ll explain everything in a minute,” gasped Coal Dust as he walked through the door.

“Sure, let’s set him up on the table.” Jackshot walked ahead and threw all of the bottles and other junk that littered the tabletop. A few of them broke when they hit the floor, but neither stallion noticed. As gently as possible, Coal Dust laid Gust out on the table.

“Jackshot, you were a medic back in the first war, right?”

“Yes, I was. I don’t know what I could do now, though.”

A look of desperation washed over Coal Dust, “Come on! You have to try!”

Jackshot looked at Gust for a moment, then back at Coal Dust. “I have a basic first aid kit in the cabinet over there, and I might be able to patch him up enough to get you to the Empire.”

Coal Dust shot over to the cabinet on the far wall and returned mere seconds later. Jackshot muttered a thanks and opened the kit.

Gust lay still, unconscious from the blast, but breathing normally. Jackshot opened the kit carefully and pulled out a pair of tweezers. 

“So, how did this happen?” asked Jackshot as he pulled a rock from Gust’s chest.

“They were sure on to something with those new concerns…” Coal Dust trailed off.

“And?”

Coal Dust sighed, his ears laying flat on his head. “They’re invading.”

Jackshot had just pulled a fragment of the armor free from Gust’s skin, “Those roaches, never happy with how much land they’ve got! So, how’d you find them? Where’s the rest of the group?”

Coal Dust just shook his head, eyes tightly closed. “We found them up on hill near the hogback. We killed the three we came 	across, but they got three of us in the process…” He cut off abruptly as he remembered Fire Chaser.

“How in the hay did three Changelings manage to put up such a good fight?”

“It wasn’t them. Their buddies started firing at us from farther up the ridge.”

“There was more of ‘em?” Jackshot had just taken Gust’s helmet off and started examining his face more closely.

Coal Dust looked out the window to the north, “It’s a whole army of them. Or maybe it’s just a rogue group. I don’t know where they’re headed but I have a hunch it’s for the Empire.”

Jackshot snorted, “Where else would they go? The Empire controls one of the most powerful magics in the land, why wouldn’t they go for that first? Besides, it’s the closest thing to the border!”

Coal Dust walked back over to the table, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not right this minute, but I think I’ll have something for you coming up pretty soon.” Jackshot took a long look at Coal Dust, 

“Go over by that stove and warm yourself up. There’s still frost on your eartips.”

Only with it pointed out to him did Coal Dust realize that he was cold. As he stood in front of the wood stove, it took a considerable amount of time before he could even feel the heat, due to the numbness that the cold left in its wake.

From the table came a quiet gasp, “Uhhhhh…” A second later it was followed by one of the most chilling screams either stallion had ever heard. ”AAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!!!” Gust writhed around on the table violently, knocking the tweezers from Jackshot’s hoof and throwing them against the far wall. 

“Give me a hoof here!” Jackshot yelled as he tried to keep Gust from moving. Coal Dust ran over even faster than he had when he had to get the first aid kit. Without any instructions, he placed a hoof across Gust’s chest and another on his head, gently pinning him to the table.

“Shhhh, you’re okay buddy,” he said in a vain attempt to calm the stallion on the table. Gust continued struggling, desperately trying to get away from the terrible pain and eventually lashing out in an attempt escape. His hooves never made contact. Almost as suddenly as he had awoken, he fell unconscious once again. 

“What just...happened? asked Coal Dust trying to catch his breath. Holding the panicking soldier was tougher work than had anticipated.

“I’ll say it, I’ve never seen anything like that happen. Then again, I’ve never worked on anything this serious before,” admitted Jackshot. “At least he’s back under now. I should be able to finish patching him up without another one of those happening.”

Only when he was sure that Gust was unconscious did Coal Dust finally release his grip. “Okay, that’s good.” 

Coal Dust stood by Jackshot’s side, waiting for any task he could do. By the time of Gust's outburst, the work was mostly done. After removing a few more large pieces of embedded debris, Jackshot pulled out an alcohol pad and dabbed at the holes left behind. Once they were clean, he took some wrap and covered each hole. He did not wrap them thickly, yet it still took nearly an entire roll of bandage to finish the job. 

With his task complete, Jackshot took a step back and looked at his hoofwork, “That ought to get you to the Empire. I don’t know if it’ll stop the bleeding completely, but he should be fine. Also, be careful of this here leg. It looks mighty broken to me."

“Thanks Jackshot, I owe you one.”

“Throw another bit on the pile. Soon I’ll have a new fire stoker!”

Coal Dust chuckled, “Sure. What happened to the old one?”

“It melted!”

Afraid to ask, Coal Dust set about gathering Gust up. This time, the weight of another stallion on his back registered. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.

Jackshot jumped up from the chair he had found, “Wait a second!” He ran over to the couch in front of the stove and retrieved a large blanket from it. “Here, wrap him up with this.”

Coal Dust set Gust down and quickly bundled him up. All that was visible now was his head. It took a bit more effort to lift the small stallion onto his back this time, but the task was accomplished quite rapidly. Finally, he fitted the pack onto his back.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Dusty. I’ll be seeing you…”

Coal Dust looked at Jackshot in confusion, “You’re not coming?”

“Dusty, look at me, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you out there. I probably wouldn’t even make it halfway to the Empire in this weather.”

“Jackshot, it isn’t safe here! You can’t stay!”

Jackshot shot a glare at Coal Dust, “Since when are you the boss of me?”

Coal Dust sighed, “There isn’t any reasoning with you is there?”

“Nope! I’ve lived in this cabin for thirty-two years, and I’ll be damned if some little punk Changeling tries to tell me otherwise!” 
Jackshot smiled smugly, proud of his decision to stay.

“I won’t argue with you. That never got me anywhere before." Coal Dust accepted defeat and walked reluctantly to the door. 

Jackshot followed him over to the exit, "I've never been big on sappy speeches, so..." Without any warning, Jackshot caught Coal Dust in a hug, "Do good out there, Dusty."

Caught off guard by the unusual gesture from Jackshot, Coal Dust froze. "Thank...you," he said uneasily.

Jackshot felt that he was getting out of his comfort zone, and broke from the embrace. "Go on now, you've got a sick one to get in!" 

Coal Dust opened the door, letting a rush of powdery snow into the cabin. He looked at Jackshot one last time before he walked out. "I'll see you around. Be safe." Jackshot smiled and closed the door behind him, and Coal Dust was back out in the storm. Alone.





How far could one pony get in just a few minutes? Judging by the trail of quickly disappearing hoofprints, that were now just small depressions in the snow, the Changeling knew he could not be too far behind his quarry. After what seemed like such a long time of wandering blindly through the storm, no landmarks visible except for the trail under him, he finally found something noteworthy. 

The smell of smoke was his first signal. A moment later, a very faint outline of a building appeared. As he approached, it became evident that it was the cabin that he and his group were dispatched to investigate. Having taken a cautious girth around the cabin, the Changeling was now crouched down in a snowdrift, waiting for any activity to present itself.

The snow and wind were bitterly cold. Just as he was about ready to move in on the cabin, the front door swung open. A Crystal pony stallion exited, carrying a rather large bundle on his back. Another yellow stallion waved him out and shut the door again.  As the crystal pony disappeared into the curtain of snow, the Changeling rose from his cover and followed, taking care to keep himself at a safe distance.





As Coal Dust pressed into the storm, he tried to increase his pace. The blanket helped Gust to stay in place on his back, so he was able to break into a trot as he crossed the open plain. Every once in a while, he felt Gust stir slightly in his bundle. 

Why does it feel like somepony’s following me? Coal Dust would often check what was behind him to ease his concern, but the thought never really went away. As he went on, it felt more and more like he was being watched. This only spurred him to run harder.


***


It’s now or never. Of course I used up all of the power in my horn earlier... The Changeling started to move up ever more alongside Coal Dust. Without the ample cover of the snowfall, he knew he would now be more easily visible. He threw stealth to the wind, and began his approach from the air.


***


A faint buzzing sound caught Coal Dust‘s ear. At first he thought nothing of it, but it quickly grew louder. Sure that he wasn’t hearing things, he turned his head to the left. A black blur was speeding toward him, giving him only a second to brace himself before it slammed into his side. 

The initial bodycheck threw Coal Dust to the ground hard. Gust was knocked a little further away, along with the small pack that he was still carrying. The Changeling continued on his trajectory and into the snowpack just a few feet away. 

Both Coal Dust and the Changeling took a moment to get back up, but the latter managed to get back up a bit faster than his adversary and rushed back over to the fight. Just as Coal Dust attempted  to stand back up, the Changeling threw a shoulder and knocked him to the ground from the other side. Coal Dust‘s initial surprise and confusion quickly turned to anger.

I just went through hell, lost nearly all of my team, and now you’re gonna bucking try to kill me now? As the Changeling came in to pounce on him, he quickly rolled over and caught his assailant mid-strike. The Changeling jumped straight into the hit, smacking his forehead against the hoof and falling to the ground. Now it was Coal Dust‘s turn. With the Changeling still picking himself up, he jumped on top of him and rained blows down on the Changeling’s head as quickly as he could.

After a few hits, the Changeling delivered a kick to his belly, then a hard uppercut to the jaw. Knowing that he had lost the element of surprise, the Changeling considered running away, yet he knew that he wouldn’t be able to return to the colony without killing this stallion. He also knew that he would be as good as dead out on the tundra, with no love of any kind to feed on and terrible cold. Maybe he isn’t that good of a fighter…

Coal Dust reeled back from the hit. He could feel his nose bleeding, and his jaw had popped loudly and painfully with the uppercut. Before the Changeling got back up, he looked back over at Gust, who had fallen out of the bundle and was laying on the snow, still unconscious.

At the thought of the one he had already worked so hard to protect being harmed again, something snapped inside of him. The protective instinct he had always harbored bubbled to the surface and he jumped back on top of the Changeling, swinging with new intensity. 

The Changeling had no chance. The first heavy hit threw his head into the ground again, the second made his vision fuzzy, and the third knocked him unconscious. Even after the Changeling was knocked out, Coal Dust threw countless more hits. When he realized that the Changeling was out, he let up. He staggered over to the pack and pulled a small knife that Jackshot had given him out it’s small cloth sheath. He returned to the Changeling and finished the fight without remorse or hesitation. 

The silence took over once more. Though he wanted to sit down and stop for the rest of the night, he knew that Gust could not afford that luxury. With a groan, he returned to the injured stallion and re-made the bundle. He hoisted him up onto his back and began trudging through the storm once again. 








	

> Chapter four: Fatigue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	On most days, Commander Nest would be asleep before he hit the mattress. Running the Equestrian Army’s base in the Crystal Empire was not an easy job; the piles of paperwork and countless other tasks around the compound kept him busy every waking second. It was tough, but he was just the pony for the job, always at his best when he barely had any free time. 

Even though he enjoyed his position wholeheartedly, it had started wearing on him over time. Some nights of sleep would often be stolen from him by a mountain of paperwork with a fast approaching deadline or a problem in the base that manifested itself in the middle of the night. His saving grace after pulling an all-nighter was the wonderfully strong coffee that only his secretary Aurora knew how to make.

This night, neither of those were the case. All of his files had been dealt with and the base was quiet except for the few nighttime activities that went on as usual. In his quarters, adjacent to his office, he was lying in his bed as he should have been. His alarm was set for five-thirty in the morning, as it should have been. His official uniform was laid out and ready for any situation that may require it, as it should have been. Everything was done and he could now drift off to sleep and dream of the vacation that he so desperately needed. Something, however, was keeping him from sleeping as he should have been. 

What if there really is something happening in the Changeling territory? Was he prepared to lead in that fight? His thoughts left him staring at the ceiling, studying its every crack, depression, texturing mark, and occasional pinhole. While he was excited at the prospect of possibly seeing some military action for the first time in his life, he also dreaded what the outcome could be. If he was not up to the task… he didn't even want to consider what would happen if that were the case.

For the longest time, he tried to fall asleep, but only succeeded in tossing and turning. At one point, when he was almost in the wonderful world of dreams, a crash from outside and a few loudly announced choice-words tore him from the sweet embrace of slumber. Finally, after a quick glance at the clock revealed it to be just after five in the morning, he resigned himself to yet another sleepless night and threw himself out of bed.

After he showered, brushed his teeth, and combed a little bit of gel into his bristly mane, a small conundrum presented itself. There was nothing of high importance planned for today, no formal event that would require him to represent the base, so did he really need to put on his uniform? Before he could make the decision, the lovely smell of fresh coffee grabbed his nose and led him out of his quarters. In some way, the smell of Aurora’s brew made the choice for him.

In the main lobby of his office, the secretary was busying herself over a fresh stack of files with one hoof and pressing the plunger down on the French press with the other. Only she could use the machine properly; Every time Nest had tried using the confusingly simple device, he ended up with more grounds than actual coffee.

“Good morning, Commander. How did you sleep?” she asked politely, not even glancing away from her two tasks.

Nest yawned and rubbed his eyes. “That’s just the thing. I didn’t.”

Aurora frowned to herself, ‘Why not? Something bothering you?”

Nest grabbed a cup and started pouring himself some of the brew, “I’d tell you, but you’re not a therapist.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I didn’t sign up for this job just so I can go through your papers all day!”

Not wanting to talk about what had really kept him up all night, Nest tried deflecting the inquiry with the unrelated statement. “That’s right. You got this job because you can make the joe like nopony’s business.” 

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she deadpanned before slapping a stack of files down on the counter next to his cup.

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart.” It had worked.

Aurora smiled and sat down at her desk, “Here’s something you need to look at. The night patrol hasn’t gotten back yet.”

Nest walked up to the desk, standing just behind the seated mare. A nervous knot  was forming in the pit of his stomach, “What? They should have been back two hours ago!”

“It’s probably nothing. Patrols come in several hours late all the time,” Aurora added.

“With these new threats from the Changelings, we’d better be more cautious.” Nervously, Nest picked up the file that Aurora was looking at and slid it over the top of the other one, “They could be just bogged down, though. There was a storm coming in out of the Changeling zone, right?”

“Yeah, I have the weather reports from Cloudsdale right here,” Aurora said, pointing to a sheet of paper lying on the counter behind the desk. Nest picked them up too and skimmed through the latest forecasts, which were unique to this area as they were predictions and not pre-made plans. While Nest was reading the latest reports, Aurora was examining one of her hooves, “Anyways, on a happier note, what are you going to do with those three free hours later today?”

Nest blinked hard and nearly spat out the coffee that he was sipping, “What? I have free time?”

Aurora pointed at the schedule on the wall next to Nest’s office door, “Right there on the schedule in black and white; three blank slots from three to six where you can do whatever you want.”

“Hmmmm,” he muttered, tapping a hoof on his chin, “Maybe I’ll take a three hour nap.”

“Aren’t you exciting,” the secretary muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” she shot back, realizing she had said it out loud,  “Drink your coffee!”

Nest chuckled to himself and took another gulp of the caffeine-enriched liquid while he walked toward his office door. Outside the windows, a faint orange glow was growing around the eastern horizon, though still not enough to provide any illumination to the world. He walked around the two chairs in front of his desk, taking a moment to straighten one of them, and stole one last glance out to the still-peaceful base before turning his back and sitting down. 

A fresh stack of files to sort through adorned his desk. To his trained eye, most appeared to be meaningless debrief files from patrols that turned up with absolutely nothing to report but endless snow-covered tundra with the occasional humorous note over some of Jackshot’s frequent antics mixed in. The stack would have to wait, however. 

Though it usually worked quickly, the caffeine from the coffee had still not kicked in. The commander, known for his steel resolve and quick wit, found his eyelids drooping and his head starting to nod. He knew he needed to stay awake, but his clouded brain and bloodshot eyes told him otherwise. Seconds after he had nodded off, his head fell down to the desk. The impact was just enough to startle him awake, alongside the rapping of a hoof on the doorframe.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Aurora shouted like a mother trying to get her foal ready for school. 

“Huh,” Nest grumbled as he half-consciously rubbed the spot where his nose had smacked the desktop. 

“Commander, the shield control center just brought in a notification.”

“Huh?” Nest asked again, only slightly more awake than the moment before. “What’s it say?”

“It says there’s been one entrance to the shield. There aren’t supposed to be any civilian entrances until dawn.” 

Nest’s head shot upright, “That must be the patrol, but just one entrance?”

“That’s it.” Aurora’s face was beginning to show signs of worry.

A knot formed deep inside the commander’s gut. A flash of concern crossed his eyes but quickly faded. “Get a party together to investi-”

Before he could finish, Aurora bolted to the office’s front door. “On it!” she yelled over her shoulder as she exited the office. 





The blizzard outside was still showing no signs of relenting three hours after Coal Dust had left with the gravely wounded Gust carried on his back.  If anything, it had gotten even worse since then. The entire cabin groaned and creaked unnaturally with the winds. The fire in the stove was slowly dying out, leaving a bed of hot coals behind. Other than the constant roar of the wind, the cabin was still.

Jackshot was sitting in a rocking chair next to the north-facing window, a mug of coffee in one hoof and an old, tattered paperback in the other. He had long ago given up on reading the book as he was too tired to comprehend the words, and instead chose to watch the flakes of snow and pellets of sleet hit the window and either stick or fall to the ground below. The coffee had gone cold, but he didn’t seem to care. His attention was focused on the window, on what he could see in the short view into the dark it offered. 

Every few minutes, he would nod off for a few seconds before his head fell and he woke up again. His body cried for sleep, but his brain was too abuzz to allow it. Coal Dust had said that Changelings were responsible for the wounds the other stallion had sustained and why the other three were absent. The Changelings were invading just like they had done when he was called to fight all of those years ago.  And they were coming straight for him. 

After dozing off a few times, the old Earth pony realized that he was going to fall asleep and stay asleep if he didn’t do something. Grunting, he stood up. His knees, stiff from sitting still for hours, creaked almost as much as the old chair as they straightened. Finally on his hooves, Jackshot hobbled over to the stove and examined the dying fire. The tinderbox only had three pieces of wood left in it, besides a small stack of pine needles that were used as fire starter. Cursing his shortsightedness for not bringing in extra wood earlier, he pitched the last of the firewood into the stove and closed the door. 

Still trying to avoid sitting down, Jackshot decided that some food was what he needed. The pantry was running just as low as the tinderbox was; the only food remaining in it were a few boxes of cereal, some cans of green beans and corn, a bag of onions, some corn chips, and a large sack of flour. He grumbled under his breath and grabbed a can of corn. Simply heating the food didn’t deserve using a pot on the stove. Instead, he poured the corn into a ceramic bowl and placed it on the stovetop. 

While he waited for the food to heat up, Jackshot searched for something else to do. The cabin was in order, nothing needed washing, and there were no household repairs to keep him busy. Finally, his eyes settled on the empty tinderbox. Again grumbling, he walked to the closet. The inside of it was a jumbled mess, but he was able to find a scarf easily enough. He would have dressed more heavily, but he only intended to be outside for a minute or two so a scarf was all he needed. 

After fidgeting with the scarf for a few minutes and retrieving the wood carrying sling, the old stallion looked at the sheath propped in the corner behind the door. The old sword he had been issued back in his days in the military; the sword that had saved his life so many times and ended the life of others who intended to take it. He held it carefully, examining the blade that had tarnished to a dull gray from the mirror-like shine it had worn when it was new. There were a few little dents and cuts along the edges of the blade and traces of rust that occasionally graced the metal. The blade had lost its luster, been put through the rigors of battle and of corrosion, and yet it still held strong. The blade was still tightly attached to the handle and still kept razor sharp. The handle was also showing its wear; nearly all of the original paint was gone. A small smile found its way to his mouth as he remembered what he and this sword had been through

Once the moment of nostalgia faded, Jackshot placed the sword back in its sheath and secured it to his hip. Going outside was foolish enough, but going outside unarmed was even more so. Prepared both mentally and physically, he pulled the door open. A flood of cold air and snowflakes rushed in, and he quickly stepped out and shut the door behind himself. 

The air was crisp and frigid, befitting a winter storm. The porch was covered in a thick blanket of snow. A shiver ran the course of his spine and out through his hooves. Without further ado, he walked down the steps and around the corner to the woodpile. The pile was on the north side of the cabin, the windward side. Due to the wind forcing its way around the cabin, there was little accumulation up against the side of the building. The resulting snowbank dropped from nearly two feet thick to barely enough to cover the grass as it neared the cabin as the wind accelerated to go around. 

Fighting the wind, Jackshot laid the leather carrier flat on the ground and pinned it in place with a log. He didn’t need anything small, so he stuck to piling the larger pieces of wood onto the carrier.

As he was picking out the firewood, something in the back of his head told him that he was being watched. The premonition kept nagging him the entire span of the trip, though frequent checks over his shoulder revealed nothing but snow. A nervous twinge in his stomach developed as he gathered the ends of the carrier and picked it up to haul back inside. 

The heavy and unwieldy carrier hurt his teeth as he carried it. He only managed to fill the woodbox up partially with what he brought in, so after offloading the firewood, he went to go back out for a second trip. The cold had started burning his skin, and he considered putting on a coat. He only needed to make one more trip and he would have enough to keep the fire going for the rest of the night, so he chose to forego the coat and plunge back into the storm once again. As he rounded the corner to the pile, his gut threw up another alarm. Something didn’t feel right; someone was watching him, he just knew it.

This trip, he focused on gathering medium to small pieces. There were plenty of little chips left over from splitting logs, perfectly sized to keep a roaring fire up. It took quite a few more pieces of wood to fill the carrier, but it was quickly becoming stacked high with smaller kindling. 

Just as Jackshot was about to call it quits and take his haul inside, the area lit up with an unholy shade of green light. The sharp crack of an explosion rocked the cabin and sent the old pony stumbling until he tripped and fell over. His ears rang and his brain was in overdrive as adrenaline flooded his bloodstream. A shower of debris from the nearby blast pelted him as he fell. A smaller flash of green illuminated the side of the cabin as a small beam of Changeling magic slammed into the side of the cabin and splintered the outer wall where it hit. 

Jackshot tried to scramble to his hooves, but when he put weight on his front leg, stabbing pain shot up through the limb, forcing him back to the ground again. A few more small beams flew in and impacted around him. A shower of snow and burned earth fell on him immediately following the shots. Wincing, he looked at the porch which seemed a lot further away than it had been moments ago. If he could manage to crawl to the porch, he would be able to hold out inside and stand a better chance. 

Again, he tried to get back on his hooves. The pain only seemed worse with each attempt. Crawling across the ground had the same effect, the intense burning pain he felt keeping him from moving. A quick glance at his right knee and the sickly shade of crimson it was turning under the skin guaranteed the fact that he was not going to be able to move. 

”At least it barely hurts when I keep still,” one part of his brain added, still trying to stay positive.

He could hear some hoofsteps crunching in the snowbank a short distance behind him; the Changelings were coming in to inspect their kill. ”They think they got me… His good leg instinctually slid down to the sheath, wrapping a pastern around the sword handle. The words that he had heard from his old General before heading into battle rang through his head. 

"Don’t give them the satisfaction of an easy kill." 

Jackshot steeled himself. He only had one chance to get this right, and then it would all be over. Butterflies in his stomach were smashing themselves against its walls in a desperate bid to escape. Behind him, he heard the hoofsteps clumsily slide down the drift and into the lightly covered ground below. The Changeling was mere moments away. He slid the sword out of the sheath ever so slightly, to make the surprise slice go more smoothly. The Changeling didn’t seem to notice. As he waited the last few moments for the attack, he thought of his wife. He pictured her face, smiling at him sweetly. A small smile crept across his face as the Changeling closed in. 

The hoofsteps crossed the ground, growing louder. The tension built in Jackshot as he fought to stay perfectly still. The crunching snow was almost on him. Now he held his breath, keeping as still as a corpse. 

The hoofsteps stopped next to him. A few seconds passed in miserable silence, Jackshot fighting the urge to attack hastily with everything he had. Finally, a cold, chitinous hoof tapped his back and the steps retreated a few feet. A few more seconds passed, dragging along like nails on a chalkboard. The hooves behind him again started forward, this time more confidently. The time had come. In one swift motion, he closed his eyes, ripped the sword from its sheath, rolled over, and swung.





Pulling gate guard duty was considered on par with patrols on the agony scale. It may not have been physically strenuous, but having to spend several long hours keeping watch over a few uninterested civilians on the outside of the fence made it mentally so. Boredom was the constant and nagging enemy of the unfortunate soldiers who were selected to take up those positions. The night shift was especially bad, when there were even fewer civilians to keep an eye on and darkness made sleep much more enticing. 

“Hey Full Pass,” one guard whispered to the other in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

“Huh? What do you want, Blister?” Full Pass said as he was startled from the thin sleep he was falling into.

“How much longer do we have on this shift?”

Full Pass craned his neck to get a glimpse at the clock just down the road outside of the compound, the low light making it even harder to see the timepiece. “About two more hours.”

Blister groaned melodramatically and stamped a hoof on the ground. A few more moments of silence passed before he broke in again, “How long do you think this snow is going to last?”

Full Pass glanced up at the streams of snow that were running down the shield above in light white ribbons, “I don’t know. Those Changeling storms usually don’t get this far down.”

“I wonder if that has something to do with this extra security we have to do.”

Full Pass grunted, “Probably not. I doubt those little plotholes would even try to come down here.”

“Well, remember what Nest said. They have tried it before.”

Behind them, Aurora came running out of the headquarters. In her haste, she nearly plowed into a worker hauling a cart.

“Hey, you two!” she yelled as she approached, but received no response from the guards. As she got closer, she recognized one of them. “Hey Blister!”

Blister and Full Pass turned around in unison, the former with a bit more enthusiasm. “Yes ma’am?”

“You know that patrol that didn’t come in last night?”

“Yeah, are they back?”

“Maybe.” She pointed down the road, toward the center of the city. “There’s been an entrance to the shield at the northwest gate - unidentified.”

“What do you mean, unidentified? Who else would it be?” A constrained sense of excitement was building inside of both guards.

“There was just one entrance, so for all we know it could be anything. Nest wants you two down there lickety-split and check out what’s going on.”

“We’ll get it done.” Full Pass acknowledged with a salute. Blister and Aurora copied the motion. “Let’s go, Blister.” 

The two stallions galloped off, passing the gate and turning to cut through the center of town on their way to the northwestern tip of the star-shaped road grid. As they went, Blister snuck a few glances over his shoulder at the mare as she walked back into the command building. When he started drifting toward the side of the road in his observation campaign, a heavy hoof connected with the back of his head.

“Ow! What?” Blister yelled with a small hint of surprise in his voice.

“Think about flanks on your own time, Rumpo,” Full Pass deadpanned like a disappointed father scolding his son. 

“Hey dude, it’s called natural selection! What if everypony was a stiff like you and never looked at mares? Our whole race would die out!”

“Oh I’m so worried about that- let me go home and hug my marefriend because I’m so scared!” Full Pass pointed a look at Blister, whose ears flattened against his head and he shrunk away. “Don’t screw around when we’re on duty, you idiot.”

Blister rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath as he ran along. They passed through the city the rest of the way in a brisk trot, eyes forward and silent. As the buildings began to get smaller towards the edge of the city, they readied themselves. Up ahead, off to the side of the road near the gateway arch, lay what looked to be a crystal pony on its side. 

Full Pass had been keeping an aura wrapped around the sword handle on his hip, but let it fade as he approached. The stallion did not move as they approached. 

As soon as they reached the downed stallion, Full Pass dropped down and felt for a pulse. “He’s still alive. Do you know who it is?”

“That’s one of the boys in my barracks; Coal Powder, I think.”

Full Pass continued checking over the wounded soldier, taking note of the many cuts and scrapes, shallow and labored breathing, and swelling hooves and nose. “He’s in bad shape,” he simply stated.

Blister looked over to what appeared to be a wadded up blanket in the gulley, “What’s that over in the ditch?” 

“I don’t know. It looks like it came here with him. Would you go see what it is?” Full Pass asked as he stepped back to look for a way to move the downed stallion. Blister stepped down cautiously, his hooves sinking lightly into the moist soil at the bottom of the ditch. Nervously, he grabbed a corner of the blanket with his teeth and pulled back carefully. The bundle unwound and revealed its contents. At the first sight of it, Blister’s pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks and his face lost a significant amount of color.

“Well, what is it?” Full Pass asked impatiently. 

Blister, all of his usual immature hype drained from him, looked up at his fellow soldier wide-eyed. “Get the medics…”





“All opposed?” the tall gray unicorn asked the group of ponies sitting around a crescent-shaped table. Of the dozen sitting at the table, only two hooves raised. “In favor?” This time, eight hooves shot up into the air, all with more enthusiasm than those against. “Motion passes. On to proposal three.” 

Before addressing the group again, the moderator flipped through a stack of papers and wrote down a few notes along the way. When his task was completed, he stepped back and looked to the group once again.  

“Proposal three,” he began, his deep voice echoing quietly off of the room’s walls, “is tax related. In relation to the decision made to cut taxes last quarter, we saw the expected three percent decline in revenue plus two more. Our measures to make up for the cuts did not pan out as much as we expected. Currently we are at a four percent loss, with even higher total losses anticipated as we move forward into spring.”  The presenter paused, and a few of the board members whispered amongst one another. 

He cleared his throat before continuing. “If we continue losing money at this rate, we can expect bankruptcy within two to three years. I want to correct the problem now so we don’t flirt with disaster later on. Does anypony have anything they would like to contribute before we vote?”

Two members stood up at once, one backed off and sat back down. The mare that remained standing held up a stack of notes, being well prepared for this exact proposal. “King Sombra, it comes to my attention that this question is more than just a yes or no issue. Whether or not we keep the cuts, we cannot leave them be.” She adjusted her glasses and took a deep breath, “I, personally, am in favor of keeping the tax cuts, based on the extra commerce they have been appearing to generate. Should we vote to keep them, we will need to engineer a plan to fix the budgeting problem.” 

Sombra ran a hoof over his jet black mane, “I agree, though that point may be completely unnecessary if we vote to remove the cuts. Does anyone else have anything to contribute before we vote?” No one stood up. “Alright then, shall we-” A rapid knock at the door cut him off. “Hold that thought everyone, I’ll be right back.” He turned around and rolled his eyes at the door, This had better be important. 

“Sir!” The door opened to reveal a soldier from the base, out of breath and sweating profusely while holding a rigid salute. Sombra returned the salute while the soldier reached into his saddlebag and produced a crumpled piece of paper. Before Sombra even had the chance to angrily ask the rhetorical question he had in mind, the wad of paper was being presented to him. 

Hesitantly, Sombra snatched it from the soldier’s outstretched hoof. “This had better be important,” he reiterated, this time aloud. 

“Sorry about…” the soldier choked out between breaths, “..the wadded note, your Highness.” To Sombra, the pony standing before him looked like he was ready to collapse. It wasn’t very far from the base to the castle, so there must have been a large amount of running back and forth before he had made it to the castle.

“Thank you, son,” Sombra smiled, hiding his annoyance with ease. It took some work, but he finally managed to unravel the paper and smooth it out to where it was legible. 

Sombra, 

I’m in a big hurry as I write this, so I’ll cut right to the chase. There’s been some very hectic events down at the base this morning. Last night’s patrol came in two hours late and three stallions short this morning. The two that made it back were battered and one was in critical condition. Currently, we are prepping search and rescue teams to go out and begin a search for the three M.I.A’s. We assume the worst. I need to hear back immediately from you with what you make of it and we can discuss how to handle this. 



Commander Falcon Nest
Equestrian National Army			                      

During the course reading the note, Sombra’s expression evolved from one of annoyance, to concern, and finally to one of deep thought. A few moments of silence passed before he asked, “Can you tell me anything else not contained in this note?”

The soldier shook his head, “No, I’m not supposed to even know what the note says. All I know is that there’s a lot of talk at the base about Changelings and that the officers are running around a lot more than usual…” The soldier realized that he was starting to drone on and let his voice trail off. The king didn’t seem to notice.

Sombra skimmed over the note a few times, looking for any details he might have missed. Finally satisfied that he had not overlooked anything, he looked at the soldier. “Do you have something to write with by chance?” The soldier nodded and reached back into his saddlebag, producing a pen.

“Thank you.” For lack of a better place to write, he pushed the paper flat against the wall and hastily scribbled down his reply on the back side.  

“Here,” he finally said, floating the scrap back into the saddlebag. “Take this straight to Nest, no stops, no talking, nothing outside of delivering this note.”

The solder bowed and turned to gallop away. Sombra watched him sprint down the hall and nearly bulldoze an accountant in the process. He turned the corner at the end of the passage that led out into the main atrium at full speed, disappearing from view while nearly losing his balance to make the turn.. 

With the guard sent on his way with the message, Sombra slowly turned back to face the door. His mind was racing, already working to formulate a plan for how to deal with the situation at hand. Beyond the door, there was destined to be at least one curious pony with a question about the interruption. High profile meetings like this one were almost never delayed; any sort of hiccup was often met with questions. 

A part of him wanted to abandon the meeting and to go find out as much as he possibly could on the subject. However, that would be a very foolish move; if he didn’t return to the meeting, more than simple curiosity would be roused. The meeting wouldn’t last much longer anyway. Taking a deep breath, Sombra raised his hoof to the door. He put a warm smile onto his face and blinked the worry out of his eyes, a tactic learned long ago and honed to a science through years of practice. With the look of concern purged from his features, he pushed the heavy wooden door open.

“Now, where were we?”





For some strange reason that he couldn’t place, Gust wasn’t in the snow covered field being shot at by Changelings anymore. Instead of the adrenaline rush he was feeling just moments ago, his entire body now felt weak, limp, and immobile. In addition to weakness, his entire face and most of his front side stung dully. His eyes felt strange, not quite in pain but definitely not normal. Above all of that, though, he noticed the darkness. It was so dark that he couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or closed. 

One thing he could tell about his surroundings was that he was in a bed. The mattress underneath him felt like a cloud, but the sheet over his lower body felt like sandpaper. Another thing was the sterile smell of strong disinfectants. Putting two and two together, Gust was able to guess that he was in a hospital bed. He now understood the aches and pains, but not the darkness. Hospitals were usually very bright from his past experience. Slowly and with some measure of effort, he lifted his hoof from the bed. It felt like it was attached to a bag of cement. Carefully, he brought the hoof to his face. 

Well that isn’t good… Instead of feeling hide and hair like normal, his hoof was met with cloth. Even though he touched it gingerly, the light pressure went through the cloth and into the skin underneath. The dull ache in his face amplified and he felt his eyes start to water under the bandage. That explains the darkness.

Once the pain started to subside, Gust let his hoof slump back to the mattress. As soon as it made contact with the bed, a smoothly feminine voice broke the agonizing silence. “Oh good, you're waking up!” A few hoofsteps sounded out and he could tell that she was by the bedside. 

“H-hello…” Gust sighed, his voice echoing the weakness felt in the rest of his body. 

“Honey, can you hear me alright?” Her voice was directly over him now. 

“Yes,” he said weakly. 

“Good. I’m Dew Tinkle, your nurse. Is there anyth-”

“Where…” Gust interrupted and then trailed off, his own though escaping him for a moment. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in the recovery room in the hospital, sweetie. You had surgery.” Her voice was curt, straight to the point and still soothing at the same time. 

“Thanks…” Gust voice trailed off again, and this time his body relaxed with it. He had passed out again. Dew Tinkle smiled when she noticed he had gone to sleep. As quietly as she could, she gathered up the charts hanging on the bed and backed out of the room to let the stallion recover.

“Oh, Dew! Glad I caught you!” Just as Dew Tinkle exited the room and pulled the curtain closed, the doctor who had done Gust’s operation came walking up. He was still wearing surgeon’s garb, complete with a few smudges of dried blood on the front. He was holding a clipboard in his aura; it too was stained with the occasional smudge of blood.

“Doctor Thistle, good to see you!” She smiled warmly and tucked the clipboard under her wing. “What brings you down to the ICU?” 

“Came to do a quick follow up on a patient by the name of…” he brought the clipboard to his face and scanned across the sheet of paper, “Gust Front. Says here he’s been put in bed seventeen.” 

“That’s this one right here,” Dew Tinkle answered, pointing a hoof at the curtain she had just come out of. “He’s just starting to come out of the anesthesia now, but he’s still asleep.” 

“Thanks, Dew.” Doctor Thistle pushed the curtain aside and entered Gust’s room. With him gone, the nurse walked back to the main desk down the hall. Another nurse was sitting there, filling out paperwork.

“Slow morning, huh?” the other nurse quipped as Dew Tinkle sat down in the chair next to hers. 

“You got it, sister,” Dew Tinkle returned, punctuating her words with a breath blown into her bangs.

The other nurse scooted back from the desk and arched her back in a stretch. “Whew! Two hours of charting, glad that’s done!” Her back gave a loud pop, and she stood up with a satisfied look on her face. She refilled her large cup with a generous amount of coffee from the pot on the counter behind the desk. “So, what do you make of this?”

Dew looked up from her own chart, “Make of what, exactly?”

“Your patient, the one they refuse to tell us anything about and keep sending others in for checkups?” 

“Mr. Front?” 

“Yeah, that’s the one. I asked what happened to him and some stallion from the base nearly bit my head off,” the other nurse remarked. 

“I don’t know, June. I really don’t know. He’s barely conscious as it is and they won’t tell me anything either. Whatever it is it must have been something they don’t want anypony knowing about.” 

“Well of course, what else?" June took a long pull from her coffee, wrinkling her nose at it when she finished. “Lukewarm and stale. Not bad,” she stated before taking another swig.

“Yeah, this whole thing bothers me. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious.” Dew shrugged, turning back to desk. 

June downed the rest of her mug and gathered up her chart work. “Well, I gotta run and file these. Be back in a few!” With that, she exited the nook that held the nurses’ desk. 

“Have fun!” Dew called, her nose still buried in her own charts. In reality, she was a lot more worried than she was letting on. Rumors had been going around all morning, all along the lines that something had attacked some of the stallions from the base. She was in charge of taking care of a critically wounded soldier. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. 

No matter though, she had work to do and there simply wasn’t room for worry at the moment. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, gulped some of the lukewarm coffee, and set about her task.
> Chapter five: Urgency
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The blizzard wound down significantly overnight, with merely a few flurries left over by morning. In its wake, the snowpack was consistently pastern-deep, occasionally up to the knee. A thick blanket of low, gray clouds persisted, bottling in the cold and preventing any warming from occurring as dawn gave way to midmorning. 

Exhaustion was rampant among the Changeling drones. Most of the night had consisted of conditions so treacherous that flight was out of the question. Now that the storm had mitigated, the entire swarm took to the air to get their frostbitten legs out of the ice and snow. 

Throughout the night, the Changelings clandestinely spilled across the border. The section of fence they used as the crossing point had been isolated on both ends by the initial infiltrators. They secured the sections adjacent on both sides, replaced the guards with themselves, and allowed the fence to go down without raising any sort of alarms. As day broke, the fence had been raised again and the few remaining drones at the border who were not disguised had been sent on their way to rejoin the main swarm. 

Ips and Cochylis were part of these few stragglers. They had been around all night, making themselves useful with any task that the others needed assistance with. Now that their work had dried up, they were on their way to catch up. 

Ips was flying at daredevil speed. For him, this was the greatest event to happen in his lifetime and, as far as he was concerned, would ever happen to him again. He was desperate to get in on any bit of action he could find; a desire that secured his place in the infiltrator brigade early on. 

Cochylis was much less enthusiastic than his fellow infiltrator. The invasion, to him, was work; a job that needed done and that he wouldn’t rush into more than necessary. Not only that, he was already exhausted from the long night of running back and forth on little errands that needed done. Twice he had been needed to dispel a curious guard, and coming up with non-suspicious excuses for why the soldiers couldn’t go further down the fence had been a challenge all its own.

As he flew along at his own pace, he found that Ips constantly passed him by, only to wind up far ahead of him, sometimes almost out of sight. The other drone was flying zealously, bursting ahead and then being forced to wait up for his partner. After several repeats of this pattern, Ips finally decided to confront Cochylis. 

“Will you hurry up? We don’t have all day!” he shouted back at Cochylis. 

“I would fly faster, but someone lost our compass last night,” Cochylis retorted, pointing a look at Ips.  

“Hey, don’t blame that one on me! Things happen when you’re fighting.” 

“True, but you could’ve gotten another one if you were checking your equipment properly,” Cochylis stated, sounding like a father giving a lecture. 

“Whatever,” Ips shot back, beginning to fly in wide loops. “If I wasn’t stuck with a slowpoke like you, I’d already be there.” 

“Ips, don’t kid yourself. You would be lost if it wasn’t for me.” 

“Shut up,” Ips retorted with an annoyed snort. The conversation died there. 

The pair flew on for a few more minutes in silence, Ips flying erratically and performing as many acrobatic maneuvers as he could think of, Cochylis buzzing steadily alongside him. Below them, they could still see the tracks of the swarm that came before them. Faint, stubbly impressions from the hooves, all mostly obscured by new snow.

However faint and insignificant the trails seemed, they were vital to the pair of drones. Out in the vast, relatively flat expanse of the open tundra, there were few landmarks to go off of. The sun was obscured by the thick clouds, the winds had gone still, and with the compass dropped earlier by Ips, the tracks below were the only reliable means of navigation. As they flew, Cochylis kept a discerning eye to the ground, making sure to never lose sight of the trail.

His mind then wandered to the fight ahead. He was capable when it came to fighting, and from the experiences of infiltration, the Equestrians seemed like pushovers. However, he knew it wouldn’t be the case later on when they were fighting against a prepared enemy, and he wondered to what extent would they have the capacity to retaliate. From the stories he had heard, it would be nothing short of an onslaught. 

A light bump jarred him form his thoughts; Ips had accidentally nudged him during one of his maneuvers. He shook his head and pushed the worry to the back of his mind, figuring he would find out soon enough anyway. 

One other thing was bothering Cochylis about his partner, though. He liked to think that he did his part to disprove the Equestrian propaganda that Changelings were malicious fiends with an unquenchable bloodlust and no regard for other forms of life. There was little truth to the accusations of the race as a whole, after all they did need love from other creatures to survive. Ips, however, embodied the stereotype to the letter. He wasn’t particularly bright, he was brutish, and above all, he seemed to be as bloodthirsty as the ponies imagined them to be. During the events of the previous evening, he had murdered the two technicians without a second thought, even though they could have still been of use. 

The thought that the same thing could happen to him crossed his mind. It was a bit of a stretch, even for a what-if scenario, but the idea was unnerving. Again, Cochylis decided it was in his best interests to forget about that and to focus on watching the tracks below. 

By this point, Cochylis was starting to grow as impatient as his partner. It felt like they had been flying over the same expanse for the last hour, made worse by the absence of landmarks to go off of. 

The frustration continued to mount, almost reaching the breaking point, when their destination came into view. The edge of the horizon in front of them began to turn black. At first it was a little more than a very faint mottling of tiny black dots, but as they drew closer, it began to fill in and become more solid. Amongst the miniscule dots were larger blotches with thin protrusions coming out of their fronts, all grouped up on the near side. The massive group stretched from one end of the horizon to the next, now the entire scene reminiscent of an anthill. The tiny black forms began to become more and more defined as they came closer. Eventually, they began to take the shape of Changeling drones. 

They had arrived. 	




Sombra’s office almost never became cluttered, even during his busiest days. He took pride in keeping the room in order, so that he would have no distractions to deal with when the real work came in. 

Today was one of those days of real work. Since the budget meeting earlier, he had been working on a hefty stack of forms. Many required nothing more than a simple signature, but some needed extra information and others needed to be read in full. Most of it was standard red-tape and formality, and as much as he hated it, there was no other way to run the government. 

However, it had been two hours since he had sat down and the stack of completed work was much smaller than it was supposed to be. The interruption in the meeting had left him with many unanswered questions, and the amount of work he needed to get done at the moment kept him from actively seeking answers. 

It was becoming apparent that he would need to find some answers if he wished to get done on schedule. 

As he continued along his slog, he found himself continually distracted by those questions. What happened to the patrol? Was it accidental or was the foul play involved? Who could be responsible for it? What could the incident lead to? Had the families been notified? 

He shook his head and thumped at his temples with a hoof, trying to shake the rambling thoughts and refocus. Staring at the paper for a few seconds, he found that he was having trouble comprehending what the form even said. This time, he could deny it no more. He needed a break. 

He arched his back and let loose with a long, drawn out yawn. Two hours of sitting still on a chair had left him stiff and full of kinks; not a good sign for his youth. When he finished his stretching, he hopped up from the desk and exited the office. 

The office opened out into the living room of his chambers. It wasn’t exactly a large room, but it was surprisingly cozy as far as the Castle was concerned. Contrary to most every other room in the building, this one featured textured walls painted in a warm earth tone. A hearth at one end of the room had only a few coals left over from the previous fire, and in the center was a generously cushioned sofa. Sombra levitated a few pieces of kindling and one larger log into the hearth and gave the coals a nudge to reignite with a fire spell. The kindling was well dried, so it lit easily. 

With the fire started again, Sombra walked over and took a seat on the couch. As soon as he made contact, he melted into the cushion. After a few wriggles to get into a comfortable position, he let out a contented sigh. The gentle crackling of the fireplace was soothing, and the dim light in the room was leading him into the beginnings of sleep. 

Just as he was ready to drift off, his mind suddenly leapt into overdrive again. This time, the questions were more morbid. What if there was an attack looming on the Empire? Could it harm the civilians? Could the Empire handle the threat? The thoughts were unsettling, and he found that he had a knot in his chest and his heart was pumping faster.  

 To calm himself, he ignited his horn and summoned a small orb of green light. He considered it thoughtfully, watching the shadows grow and shrink dynamically as he moved it about. To complement it, he conjured up a red ball, this one larger than the initial green one. Both spun around the room, dancing with the finesse that only practice could bring. 

The light show he was putting together wasn’t enough, and he brought in a large influx of spheres to the mix. Yellows, hot pinks, deep blues, fiery oranges, all moving in a carefully choreographed scene. It all worked together in harmonious rhythm, each orb working to fill a role in the abstract scene coming together in the dark chamber. Little swirls and starbursts were placed where needed. The occasional whizz and pop sounded through the room to add effect.  The colors blended together in just the right places. He marvelled at the scene he was creating, forgetting for a moment that he was quite possibly under attack and in real danger. This show was just what he needed to suppress the panic that was attempting to manifest itself. 

        The show was brought to an abrupt halt by the door opening. His concentration broken, the show quickly faded into the air. He looked to the door to see the source of the interruption. In the doorway stood a magenta Crystal Pony, carrying a satchel that hung low from her midsection. Her streaked primrose mane was disheveled and she looked distraught, her mouth pressed into a thin line and her eyes burning with frustration. 

        “Ruby?” Sombra asked.

        “Hey,” she acknowledged noncommittally, crossing the room and depositing the satchel on a table near the office door. 

        Sombra did not reply immediately, calculating his next words carefully. It was obvious that she was upset, and from what he could tell, she wasn’t in the mood for talking. Words were not going to work, so he tried a non-verbal approach. She passed in front of the couch a few seconds later, and he reached out a hoof and caught her by her front leg. 

        “Honey, not right now,” she complained, trying to shake off his hold. He insisted and pulled her to the couch, depositing her next to himself. She moved to complain again, but a strong hoof around her shoulder gave her an answer. She was caught. 

        “What are you doing?” she asked. 

        “Being cute and spontaneous,” he replied, nuzzling against the top of her head. Her response was to melt into the embrace. They sat like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other’s company. The crackles and pops of the fireplace were again the only sound in the room. 

        “Do you want to talk about it, Ruby?” Sombra whispered, breaking the silence. 

        “No,” she answered, burying her head into his shoulder. 

        “It was the children, was it not?” Sombra lightly pressed the issue, trying to get her to let off a little of the pressure she was holding. He remembered that she had visited one of the local schools today, and his best guess was that the foals had caused a problem. 

        “No, it was a group of parents. They started getting in an argument over something or other and when I tried to restore order, they started getting angry with me for ‘interfering in a personal matter’.” She threw up quotations with her hooves to add effect. “Ugh, sometimes it gets hard to stay collected in things like that, you know?” 

        “Mmmmm,” Sombra hummed. He was beginning to start up his light show again, adding in the little orbs of light one by one and building the display back to where he had it before.

        Ruby watched as the presentation built, falling silent and settling back into the couch, her head resting on her husband’s shoulder. Sombra, instead of building the show for a vigorous attempt to clear his mind like before, used a more gentle style. The colors were warmer and soothing and the effects were less energetic and exciting. Before long, Sombra felt her relax against him; she had fallen asleep. He snorted in amusement and gave her a light kiss in the head. Since she was using him as a pillow, he needed to sit still. He no longer felt the incessant panic within himself, and he sat and watched the flames licking over the log in the hearth in silence. 

        He didn’t know how long he sat still with Ruby draped over him, but he didn’t care. She was especially cute when she was asleep, and he was content to stay still for as long as possible. However, as all things must come to an end, a knock at the door beckoned. Carefully, he surrounded her in an aura and slipped out from beneath her. With even more care, he eased her down to the couch and rested a pillow under her head. She didn’t even stir. 

        Sombra edged his way to the door on silent hooves. He threw a quick dampening spell on the hinges and latch before he opened it, and pulled the door open carefully. An observation of who was on the other side made all of the comfort of moments before disappear in the blink of an eye. 

        It was Commander Nest himself. 

        Sombra slipped through the door and pulled it closed again before relaxing the spell. “Commander,” he acknowledged, touching his hoof to his forehead in an impromptu salute.. 

Nest saluted with more formality, “Your Highness.” 

Sombra let his breath out slowly, “Let’s get right down to it. Your note was rather brief and nondescript, I must say. Care to fill me in more?” 

Nest shook his head, “I can’t say that I know much more. As per your request, the patrol captain has already been transferred to the castle’s infirmary and we’re just waiting for him to wake up.”

“Good. I want him debriefed as soon as he wakes; at this point, every second could be crucial,” the King stated. 

“In that case, I think we should do it ourselves. Less chance of miscommunication if we hear it direct, after all,” Nest offered, turning to walk back down the hall. Sombra nodded and followed along without another word, a scowl affixed to his face. 




Coal Dust was running as fast as his hooves would move, and yet he gained no ground. The snow was being driven into his side by the winds, penetrating his fur and soaking the skin underneath as it melted. He couldn’t even feel his right side anymore from the numbing effect of the wind. 

Ahead was his squad; Fire Chaser, Greenfield, Flash Point, and Gust. All of them running away from him, leaving him behind like they didn’t know he existed. He desperately needed to be back with his group; without them he was as good as dead. It seemed that no matter how fast he ran, they always stayed the same distance ahead of him. 

His legs burned, his head throbbed, and his mouth was cold and dry. The others seemed to run so effortlessly, like they had no trouble with the snow and wind trying to slow them down. Any amount of effort he put towards catching up to them had no effect. They were just too quick. 

And then the entire world flashed with a nefarious shade of green. It blinded him, causing him to trip and tumble to the ground. As he tripped, a string of curses escaped his lips before he landed and the wind was knocked from his lungs. Snow filled his nose and his ears as he slid to a halt. 

Now he was mad. If he had any chance of catching up to the others before, it was completely gone now. He was furious. A burning need to destroy the source of the light consumed him as he quickly rose to his hooves and looked ahead. 

The others were gone. No trace of them remained. Coal Dust squinted, trying to see as far ahead as he could. That was when he noticed the fading cloud of an explosion where the patrol had been. 

He went to scream, but no sound formed. His lungs were still struggling to take in the air that had been shoved out in the fall. His entire body seemed to shut down, and he fell over in the snow. 

THUD.

The snow was gone, replaced by a mattress and bed sheets that were a bit scratchy. Coal Dust groaned and rolled over onto his back, his deeply achy muscles protesting the movement with surges of pain. Shifting about brought on an intense headrush, causing his vision to blur and his hearing to cloud up. 

The headrush cleared to reveal that several wires were connected to his chest and foreleg, running back to a heart monitor at the bedside. A small cart next to the bedside contained some basic medical instruments: a small syringe filled with amber liquid, a roll of tape, a stack of gauze, and a bag of IV fluid. 

The instruments alluded to the fact that he was in the hospital, but this one was different from the one he had been in several times before. Instead of being in a small space flanked by thin curtains, he was in a comfortably sized room. The walls were not the standard-issue sterile white of the general hospital, but rather a familiar shade of reflective sky blue. The floor was also shiny, though a deeper shade of blue than the walls. 

It dawned on him that he was in the castle’s infirmary. Only the most important of ponies were admitted here when they were ill, and the idea felt a bit strange. He was a Sergeant, not even an officer, and yet he was being taken care of in a room that was reserved for the highest ranking officials? 

Before he had a chance to ponder the question further, the door opened up to admit a golden Crystal pony mare that was carrying a small bundle. She crossed the room to the bedside and dropped the bundle on the bedside cart. Her mouth now free, she smiled at him. “Good to see you awake, Mister, uh…” she quickly checked her chart “...Sergeant Dust! How are you feeling this morning?” 

Coal Dust shifted in the bed a bit and let out a grunt of discomfort, “Sore. But I’m feeling okay other than that.”

“Good to hear. My name is Nurse Viola, I’ll be taking care of you,” she said while reaching over and retrieving the bundle. It flopped open on the bed, revealing a small bottle of medicine, a few bandages, and a thermometer. “I’m going to start by taking your vitals, can you open your mouth please?” Coal Dust complied and she placed the small glass tube under his tongue.

Viola took the stethoscope from around her neck and attached it to her ears, “I’m going to listen for your heartbeat, can you shift a bit closer to me?” Again he did as she asked. The cool metal ring of the stethoscope elicited a flinch from him as it made its way down to bare skin. “Okay, breathe in,” she asked while moving the bell to different parts of his barrel. “Let that breath out slowly.” This process repeated several times until she took the earpieces out and returned the device to her neck. 

Viola had scribbled down the results on her chart and was getting ready to unwrap a bandage when the door opened. Before she could look over to the doorway, a familiar voice came from the still-empty doorway. “Thank you for your work, Miss Viola, but I’m afraid I need to ask you to step out for a short while.” The nurse put the rest of her supplies on the table, shrugged at her patient, and exited the room in a brisk walk. 

A moment after she left, the source of the voice made himself visible. The tall gray form of none other than the King of the Crystal Empire himself stepped through the doorway. A couple of steps behind him was Commander Nest. Their somber expressions were enough to send chills up Coal Dust’s aching spine. Sombra, in particular, looked frazzled. 

“Sergeant, I believe we need to talk.” 




Coal Dust slowly, but surely, made his way down the grandiose staircase that led up to the Castle entrance. His muscles were barely ready for use. The newly scabbed cuts and scrapes left over from the previous night stung dully under the bandages. 

The day was bright, sunny, and warm. The sun was nearing the top of its arc for the day, and the whole Empire was glistening in the bright rays. The city went about its daily routine; the native Crystal Ponies and the occasional Pegasus, Unicorn, or regular Earth Pony that had arrived or moved in from elsewhere bustling about, doing business, recreating, visiting shops, and any number of other activities. The pleasant day had brought the majority of them outside, and the whole city seemed to be abuzz with happiness.

And then there was Coal Dust. More than anything, he wanted to warn these ponies of the imminent danger that was descending upon them. He felt the need to let them know so they could protect themselves. Yet, however badly he felt the need to inform them, he knew that it would only cause him to be dismissed as crazy, not to mention the repercussions from those higher in command. 

And so he walked, slowly, tiredly, and at the same time nervously. His eyes were constantly scanning other ponies around him, hoping that maybe one of them would be an infiltrating Changeling to give him the leverage he would need to warn the Empire. It was a futile hope; one that seemed to grow dimmer as he walked. 

In addition to the numerous bandages he wore, something else was drawing attention to him. As he made his way down the road away from the castle, he was constantly flanked by two guards from the palace. Seeing palace guards out on the street was an uncommon sight, and more than a few civilians watched as the small procession made its way east toward the Army base. 

While he walked, Coal Dust thought back to the debrief. His account of the events of the previous night was met with a disguised look of horror from Sombra. The King, still quite young for his position, looked to be overwhelmed by the new information, though he was good at hiding it. When the debrief was over, he stood and wordlessly walked out. The only acknowledgement he gave the soldier was a quick nod. 

Nest, on the other hoof, was as stone-faced as a palace guard on duty. For his lack of emotion, his look could have been either indifference or fatalism; he didn’t know for sure. He looked resigned to the fact that he would be leading his troops to battle in the near future. Not long after Sombra left, he too stood and made for the door. Before he exited, he uttered one line that made Coal Dust’s blood run cold. ”I’ll deal with you later.”

The crystal Pegasus shivered, shaking the thought from his head. While thinking back on the unpleasant event, he had gone a considerable distance. He was now most of the way back to the compound, at the street corner where the donut shop was. A glance at a clock nearby showed it to be five minutes until noon. The shop was just about to close down for the day, and a thought came across his mind. I should go let her know I’m okay. 

The guards hadn’t given the shop a second look and were already turning down the road that led to the base. Looking at the homey little building that was getting ready to disappear from view around the corner spurred him to break the silence. “Excuse me.” 

The guard cocked his head to see Coal Dust out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we could stop at the donut shop over there for a minute?” 

The guard shook his head. “No, we’re supposed to take you straight back to base without stops.”

Coal Dust tapped a hoof to his chin, “I know the owner, and I bet I-”

The guard cut him off curtly, “The answer is no.” 

Coal Dust’s ears laid back on his head in defeat. He sighed and resumed his stiff walk without another word. 


“Hey Dusty!”

All three ponies turned simultaneously to look for the the source of the voice. Across the road, a little tan mare was trotting in their direction, her smile visible from across the street. Her curly scarlet-and-pink mane bounced up and down as she jogged. She crossed the street, without looking, and continued her approach. As she neared, her smile visibly faded, being replaced by a concerned frown. 

“Celestia above, Dusty! What happened to you?” Braided Twist walked up and examined each bandage over his face and neck. 

“Excuse me, ma’am? I’m sorry but we can’t let you—” 

“Yeah, in a minute,” she dismissed with a wave of the hoof, not sparing so much as a glance in the guard’s direction

 “No, I’m sorry, miss. You can’t talk to him right now,” stated the guard , adding a touch 
more firmness into his tone. 

        Braided Twist turned to face the guard, “Excuse…” she started to snap, only just now noticing the stallion’s uniform. “..you.” The second word lacked every ounce of the attitude from before. 

        “Sorry, Braid,” Coal Dust said softly. He gave her a quick hug and began his walk again, leaving the mare to her thoughts and worries. She stood still with a bewildered look on her face for a long time as she watched him leave before she turned away and slowly began shuffling her way to her own home. 

        The quick few seconds of friendly interaction meant a lot more to Coal Dust than it should have. It was the first time since the night before that anypony had taken a moment to care about him. 


> Chapter six: Haste
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Nest and Sombra walked into the empty meeting room, each walking as if the weight of the world was bearing down on their shoulders. The King began pacing back and forth near the front of the room while the Commander grabbed a chair from the committee desk. A long silence followed, the only sound in the large crystal-blue chamber being rapid hoofsteps from the pacing pony. 

“That was quite a report,” Nest finally said, breaking the silence. 

Sombra stopped his pacing and faced the Commander, “Indeed.” Another moment of silence followed, broken this time by the King. “I suppose we should get to formulating a plan.” 

“That would be a good place to start,” Nest agreed. 

“Very well, I will go first,” Sombra began, clearing his throat. “I think we need to be proactive in our approach. The public must be warned of the dangers so they may prepare themselves for whatever circumstances occur. We need to send for reinforcements from other military installations across Equestria. The Princesses must be notified at once. Our own troops need—” 

“Hold on a minute, Your Highness. Before you get ahead of yourself, I want to say something,” Nest interjected. “You’re talking like we know there’s an entire country descending on us right now. To be honest with you, I’m not ready to commit so much after all we have to work with is three dead soldiers and the account of one. That’s a bit too much action for so little information.” 

Sombra snorted, “What is it you’re trying to say, Commander?” 

“I think we should keep quiet about this. I fear that if you did warn the public about an invasion, they wouldn’t be orderly and civilized like you think they would be. They’d go and panic and make things much worse than they already were, and then we’d be up the creek without a paddle. Yes, I agree that the Princesses should be notified and that reinforcements need to be ready to assist, but we can’t jump the gun here. This is delicate work and should be handled accordingly,” Nest summarized. 

Sombra stared at the ground for a moment, his breaths coming raggedly and shallow. “I disagree. If we are attacked, we need to be ready. That means the public needs to be aware of the threat. I know that we can get them under control if the panic you describe does occur.” 

“And how exactly would we go about that?” Nest questioned pointedly, raising an eyebrow. 
        
        “Do I look like I know the answer?!” Sombra shouted back, his panic starting to show through. He quickly caught himself and took a deep breath. “I apologise.”  He began pacing again, staying silent for half a minute more before he stopped and sighed. “I suppose, for lack of any ideas on my part, we should go with your plan.” 

        Nest was mildly taken aback; Sombra was not known for making compromises so easily. “So now that we have that established, what’s the game plan?”

Sombra resumed his pacing, “I want you to send Pegasi on reconnaissance missions and see if you can find out anything. Any little scrap of information will be of use. I will handle the correspondence. If everything runs smoothly, we should be able to deliver a message to the Princesses by nightfall.” He turned to face Nest, “Commander, I believe our work is cut out for us.” 

        Nest stood, pushing the chair back into place. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he agreed, snapping a salute to the King and making for the door. Sombra followed close behind, shutting off the lights and leaving the meeting room empty once again. 





It had been fifteen minutes since Nest had returned and secluded himself in his office. Peace and quiet were exactly what he needed; some space to think on the current events. As he had gathered from the information provided, there was an attack looming on the horizon. There was no doubt in his mind that the Changelings were up to that. Lime green bolts of magic, large numbers of shots, and not the most precise aim; from Coal Dust’s description, he had encountered a swarm on patrol last evening. 

The recollection of that particular name brought one more reminder back to his mind. The kid had attacked an enemy of unknown number and intention, getting three stallions killed and a fourth wounded badly. Had it been one of the grunts that made it back in decent shape, he would have more reservations about the punishments coming to mind, but the leader of the patrol was the one who survived intact. The leader was the one who was supposed to shoulder the responsibility for his decisions, not those under him, for Luna’s sake!

Nest shook his head. No, he thought. No time for that. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, bringing those of his game plan back to the forefront. 

And immediately the jitters set in; not so much nervous jitters as angry ones. The total lack of knowledge on the situation unfolding was grating on his sanity. He didn’t know much more than that an attack was on the way; all the details about how fast they were attacking, total numbers, target, munitions, and weaponry were a mystery. A mystery that he was unsure of how to solve. A reconnaissance mission would likely end in more losses, but not knowing the strength of the enemy would certainly spell disaster. 

        Caught between the two choices, the commander swiveled his chair away from his rapidly growing decision tree on the desk to the window. It was business as usual outside, the soldiers going about their own duties and chores without a single smidge of the worry he was feeling. They almost looked so relaxed that they could have been mistaken for civilian battle re-enactors.  

        And that was when the thought hit. There is no way we’re ready for this kind of threat.





Only one other soldier was in the barracks by the time Coal Dust came hobbling through the door, still feeling the effects of the previous night’s wear and tear deep inside most of his muscles. His hooves dragged the slick linoleum floor as he walked, drawing the other soldiers gaze for only a moment before he turned back to his own business. The guards had left him to his own devices at the gate to the compound, so he was now alone. 

His bed was the same stiff mattress he had known for the past four years, the same sheets that faintly smelled of bleach, and the same soft feather pillow with the occasional quillpoint sticking out, poking uncomfortably into his head. Yet now it seemed forlorn, like it was not truly his to lay on. He was free to do as he pleased for the time being, so there was no threat of being reprimanded for lazing about. He didn’t even bother with the sheets, but rather chose to simply flop down on the mattress like a rag doll. 

His head hit the pillow, and almost immediately sleep began to take its comforting hold on his mind. He had only slept in the hospital room for about three hours, and he was still far beyond exhaustion. Rest came easy, and he drifted off to sleep in no time. 

SLAM. CRASH. SLAM.

The world rushed back into the disheveled stallion’s awareness, sending him reflexively rolling off of the bed and bracing for the debris from what was surely a massive explosion nearby. His right wing hit the floor painfully, followed by the rest of his body in a heap of pony. 

And there was no explosion. All he heard were the familiar voices of several of the other soldiers in the barracks and the sound of broken glass being swept up. Cautiously, Coal Dust poked his head out from behind. 

There were no Changelings, nor any bloody stains on the snow. The source of the sound had been a metal trash bin being violently knocked across the room, several glass bottles contained within spilling out and shattering against the wall it had slammed into. Three soldiers were around it, one just getting to his hooves, one helping him up, and another sweeping up the pile of broken glass. 

“Dust?” a voice even more familiar than the other three stallions asked. Turning his head to the left, Coal Dust locked eyes with a mountain of muscle and dingy white fur. His eyes traveled up until they met with an all too familiar muscle-bound face. “Any reason that you’re on the floor?” 

“Headstrong, what’s up?” Coal Dust greeted nonchalantly, rising to his hooves. 

        “Wondering why you’re laying on the floor,” Headstrong reiterated. 

        “Right…” Coal Dust began, “I was asleep and I guess I just rolled out of the bed. What are you doing down here?” 

        “Came to check up on you. Ever since you came in this morning all busted up and missing almost all of your patrol, there’s been a lot of talk going around. We were ordered not to bother you, but… buddy are you okay?” 
        
        When Headstrong mentioned the patrol, Coal Dust sank back, taking a seat on the bed. A rush of memories were crowding his brain all at once, trying desperately to force themselves to the forefront. 

There was a flash of green light and an explosion. A small beam zipped in from the front, causing a small blast just in front of them sent all three stallions reeling. Immediately after it, a much brighter flash lit up the area. A thicker, brighter beam raining down from above landed at Greenfield’s hooves. The entire group was obscured by a thick cloud of smoke and snow.

The realization hit him like a kick to the gut. Three stallions were dead. The Changelings were attacking. It had all seemed so surreal until now, like it had all been a bad dream. His eyes inadvertently travelled down to the mass of bandages on his right shoulder and around his midsection, kicking loose another memory. 

”Incoming!” The second those words left Gust’s muzzle, the entire area lit up like a flare.  Before anypony had the chance to react, an explosion ripped through the air. A hot shower of debris pummeled Coal Dust on his right side and sent him sprawling out on the ground.

Everything he remembered was true. It seemed like a fever dream, many parts running together and losing intensity. An immense weight was settling on his stomach, feeling like it would crush inwards at any moment. Coal Dust glanced up at the bunk above his head, and the weight on his stomach achieved its goal.  

The writhing cloud of dust and snow quickly moved away, swallowed by the gale. In its place, was nothing. The four soldiers that had been there a few seconds before were suddenly not.

“Dust, are you okay?” a distant voice echoed, barely audible to the distraught Crystal pony. Headstrong’s face appeared in his vision seemingly from nowhere, startling him from his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Coal Dust asked blankly, rubbing at his eyes with his fetlocks. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Headstrong commented. 

“What?” Coal Dust asked absently, blinking hard and looking around the room to avoid Headstrong’s eyes. 

“Do you need to lie down or something?” Headstrong asked, trying his best to be helpful. 

“Wha… no. No, I’m okay. I just need a moment.” Coal Dust answered, rising from the bed. He walked past Headstrong and clumsily made his way across the room to the Head. The large stallion stood still, slightly confused but understanding Coal Dust’s predicament at the same time. He chose not to stick around, leaving the barracks not long after the faint click of the stall door in the bathroom echoed out of the doorless entrance. 

In the stall, Coal Dust felt the weight on his stomach win out, turning it upside down in a fit of nausea. He had barely latched the door in time to hold his face over the latrine before one big heave lept through his barrel, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Several smaller convulsions followed, each bringing a painful dry heave. When the last of the spasms had subsided, he reached up and pulled the flush lever. 

He weakly lifted himself from the floor, much of his energy drained by the vomiting. He flopped himself down on the toilet and sat limp, staring up at the ceiling tiles. His eyes were clouded with tears, though he couldn’t tell whether they were from his convulsions or from actual crying. 

Maybe it was both. 



        

The only sound in Sombra’s small office adjacent to his chambers was the furious scratching of a quill on paper. He had been feverishly working on the letter for nearly half an hour, struggling to find just the right words. This letter needed to be worded just right; too much urgency would lead to an overzealous response from the rest of Equestria. Too little and the request would not take priority and help would likely not be ready when needed. The trash bin next to the desk was slowly filling with wadded up scratch paper and those letters that contained mistakes. 

        And finally, he had it. Reading back through the letter, he felt that his point had been conveyed properly. He smiled with relief and slid the letter into an envelope, finishing the process by stamping the Empire’s seal on the front side. He pushed off from the desk, the chair legs squeaking loudly on the floor, and stretched his legs. He levitated the letter alongside himself and made for the exit.

But not before something caught his eye. On an empty bookshelf opposite from the desk, there was a large glass jar. He hadn’t noticed it before, and just why it was there in his office drew him in to investigate. Striding up to the shelf and peering in at the jar, he noticed what it was. 

        The jar was filled about two-thirds of the way full with dirt, leaving about three inches of air before the lid, which contained numerous holes. Inside, on top of the dirt, was a sugar cube and a small sponge stuck on a toothpick. All over those two items were hundreds of red ants. Closer inspection revealed numerous passages snaking down the edges of the jar before eventually disappearing deeper inside. The whole thing reeked of Ruby’s doing, Sombra suspected. She always had been a nature nut, and there wasn’t another pony around the castle that would just leave an ant farm sitting on a bookshelf. 

        Levitating the farm off of the shelf, Sombra exited the office and entered the large main room of his chamber. The fire had since burned down to a low bed of coals and Ruby had long vacated the couch. He started to head for the door to leave, but while walking he found himself fascinated by the little contained ant colony. He stopped in front of the fireplace and moved the farm closer to his face.

        Something was definitely interesting about the ants inside. On the surface, there were two little swarms. The largest one on the quickly dwindling pile of sugar, and a secondary one above that on the moist sponge. There were two main holes, one close to the center of the jar and the sugar, and another along the edge. Sombra tilted the jar to get a better look at the side entrance, watching the ants pour into their tunnels and out to the surface. 

        All of the constant movements of the little insects held Sombra captivated. He regarded the sheer efficiency of them, as they all went about their tasks with determination and drive. There were no fights, there were no disagreements; everything moved smoothly and orderly in the colony. All of the ants were working together to achieve a common goal. 

        And that’s when it hit him. Nest had strongly suggested to keep the information of the attack secret from the public, on the grounds that it would bring about mass hysteria and panic. Sombra agreed, though largely out of a lack of ideas on his part. Looking at the ants, he began to realize the dangers of keeping the information from the public. 

        A scenario played out in his head. The ponies of the Empire were never warned, and there was an assault on the city. To go so suddenly from peace to war would throw everypony into confusion and instead of working together to solve the problem, they would all try to protect their own interests and would be easily overrun by the invasion. Had they been warned, they could have prepared for the threat and worked to solve it as a community. 

He looked around at the walls of his chamber, noticing a picture on the wall of himself and Ruby with a group of representatives from other Equestrian cities in front of the Crystal Heart. 

The Crystal Heart, of course!

With the thoughts of the solution to his problems building in his head, he rushed out of his chamber and into the castle proper. Time was of the essence. The citizens needed to know, regardless of what Nest felt was the best course of action. The best way to warn them, of course, was by gathering them all in the Castle Square to warn them in person. The Postal Service would use their delivery ponies to gather the populace and bring them to the Square; no trouble. The next step was the speech. He had writers around that could cover that job while he prepared everything else. Their office would be the second stop on his suddenly growing list of tasks. After that he would need to make sure that he was dressed up to make the speech, and then—

“King Sombra, sir! I’m glad I caught you,” announced the gravelly voice of a Castle Guard, breaking his train of thought. The guard approached in a hasty trot similar to the one that the King had been employing himself, though with more speed until he caught up. “There’s a situation that needs your attention immediately.” 

Sombra snorted in annoyance, “I’m in a bit of a hurry, Soldier. What do you need?”

The guard motioned for him to stop and move off to the side of the large hall. He scanned the hall for any potential eavesdroppers before beginning in a whisper, “Sir, Commander Nest specifically sent for you a few minutes ago. I don’t know much, but there was mention of Changelings in the base and that he needed you to go to the Headquarters immediately—” 

Sombra teleported away nearly the same instant that the word ‘Changeling’ left the Guard’s mouth.





The basement of the Headquarters building at the Base was little more than a musty cellar that housed a multitude of pipes and cables of many sizes alongside a stack of old wooden crates full of disaster supplies. A single hanging light bulb struggled to provide adequate lighting for the room. It smelled of dust and cedar from the crates. Most of the time it sat empty, forgotten under the hustle and bustle of everyday life in the base. 

        Except today, when it was suddenly the center of attention for the entire base. Two of the largest stallions on base, Headstrong being one of them, stood guard on the old wooden door. Ponies passing by in the hall were instructed to keep walking and not pay any mind to the basement. 

        Inside were two rusty metal chairs, each containing a blindfolded Changeling wearing a magic restrainment ring and sitting expressionlessly while tied to the chairs. Commander Nest sat on a crate he had pulled over from the stack behind the two drones and another guard stood next to him, holding a particularly nasty-looking sword in his fetlock. 

        The door opened and rapid hoofsteps descended the stairs, drawing Nest and the soldier’s attention to the staircase. The steps reached a crescendo and from the stairwell emerged Sombra, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His mane was windblown, his eyes were alight with tension, one of them twitching frequently. He recoiled in disgust the moment he saw the Changelings, stopping in his tracks and taking a deep breath. 

“I’m here. Let’s get this show on the road,” he ordered flatly.

        The soldier sat his sword down and stepped forward, untying the blindfolds on the two drones and exposing their unnerving pupilless eyes. Both of them perked up at seeing Sombra himself. 

        “Well, get them talking. Do they understand our language?” Sombra asked hurriedly, his voice hinting of annoyance. 

        “We understand you, your Highness,” answered one of the drones. He seemed to savor the final two words, his voice hissing sinisterly. 

        “Then talk already,” Nest spat. 

        “My, shouldn’t we at least introduce ourselves first?” the second drone returned sarcastically. 

        “No. You said you had a message, deliver the damned message already.” Nest’s scowl deepened with each word, slightly unnerving the guard.

        The first changeling nodded, unconcerned by the menacing expression on the commander’s face.. “Very well. We come bearing a message from King Chrytion himself. You are to surrender the Empire to us immediately, and we will allow you all to leave peacefully and without incident. If you refuse, you risk the lives of all you rule over.” 

        “Wait, wait, wait a minute,” Nest interrupted, “You want us, all seven thousand of us, to just give up our home? Is your King insane or just stupid?” 

        The Changeling did his best to shrug, given his restrains, “All seventy-five thousand of us would tend to think that way, yes. Chrytion demands an answer within the hour, Your Highness. Make the right choice.” 

        Sombra stared at the drone, his distress suddenly evaporating. “No.” 

        The drone was caught off-guard. He had expected to sit waiting for an answer for a few minutes, instead getting his answer mere seconds later. “Are you sure you wish to subject your Empire to this without even a second thought, Your Highness? 

        “There is nothing to discuss. Your terms are ludicrous and unfounded. My answer is no. Commander would you please come with me.” 

        Nest turned around to give Sombra his own opinion, and found that the king was not there. The door at the top of the stairs promptly slammed shut. “Guards, keep an eye on these two. I’ll be right back.” He hopped down from the crate and hurriedly mounted the stairs. 





Nest’s office was filled with tension, both of the leaders in anxious silence across the room from one another. Sombra began pacing, and Nest sat facing him at his desk. Aurora brought in coffee a few minutes prior and left quickly, sensing the tension in the room. The silence persisted for a few minutes before Nest finally began the conversation that both were dreading. 

        “The bug said we have until the end of the hour,” he started, leaving the end of his sentence open in expectancy of Sombra to take over.

“That means in fifty minutes, we are going to have a full-scale battle on our hooves if he spoke the truth,” Sombra added, his voice filled with dread. 

        “I just want to know your reasoning. At this point, it looks like the only way any of us are gonna survive this thing is surrender. I’m all for a blaze of glory, but we also need to think of the civilians here. Why didn’t you even consider the peaceful option?” 

        “We can win this battle without a single casualty, Commander.” 

        Nest snorted, “I like the sound of that, but how in the world can we do it? 

        Sombra grinned, “The Crystal Heart.”

The commander shook his head, “Not following you here.” 

“I didn’t realize this until now, but in theory we could use the magical blast it produces as a weapon against the Changelings,” Sombra answered. 

“That wave of magic it sends out when it fires up? All it does is make everyone all shiny and feel warm inside, so how would it ‘in theory’ work as a weapon?”

“I suppose your changeling lecture is more hoof-to-hoof combat oriented and does not deal much much the nature of Changelings as a race. During my time in the Canterlot Academy, I received a much more in-depth picture. I will summarize it for you.” 

“College snob,” Nest muttered under his breath. 

        “Magic can be classified into very many different types. The type we unicorns use is Harmony magic, and other creatures use other forms, such as Dark magic. Changelings use a type unique to themselves, known as Elusive magic or simply Changeling magic. They have the capacity for use of Harmony magic, but they have a great deal of difficulty doing so and only the best of their mages ever develop skill with it,” Sombra explained. 

“Not getting it,” Nest deadpanned. 

“Let me finish,” chided Sombra. “Now, as I said, Changelings do not have much capacity for Harmony magic within themselves. Creatures like them do not react well to Harmony magic, and in a large enough dose it can even be lethal.” 

Sombra paused for a moment, “The Crystal Heart is capable of producing one of the largest known blasts of Harmony magic.” 

        Nest perked up, “Wait, you’re saying that we can actually make a weapon out of that thing?”

        Sombra nodded again. 

        “That’s incredible!” Nest exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. “Sure, the idea’s a little crazy, but hot damn! We can beat this swarm with one shot!”

        Sombra chuckled at the normally stoic Commander’s enthusiasm. “Glad we are on the same page. Now, I believe the plan should be fairly straightforward from here. I go and gather the Crystal Ponies and get ready to fire. You gather the military and get them ready to defend the Empire. The Heart’s blast has a limited effective range, so we have to lure them in as close as possible before we activate it.” 

        “Sounds like a plan to me, Your Highness,” Nest agreed as he gave a salute. 

        Sombra smiled, stopping his pacing. “Good. We will work the rest of the kinks out as we go. Stay in contact, and best of luck.” Without any more fanfare, Sombra teleported away with a crack of red magic, leaving behind a strong smell of ozone in his wake.

        Nest took a long pull from the coffee on his desk and faced the window once more, looking out over the base one more time from his window, gazing on the arrangement of buildings that he had called home for nearly twenty years now. He drained the cup in one more swig and stood to leave. 

        “Aurora, go down to the control room. Tell them to send out a message…” 





Braided Twist groaned in frustration and slammed her novel down on the table. She had just spent the last fifteen minutes reading, and she couldn’t remember a single word of it. In addition to that, she couldn’t remember where she’d started reading from.

Ever since she saw Coal Dust out on the street, she hadn’t been able to shake the questions from her mind. What could have happened to him? Why was he under guard? What did a Sergeant have to do to be placed under such protection? She groaned again, this time with more gusto, and hoisted herself out of the deep recliner. She hadn’t done a single productive thing since leaving work, and now it was almost three in the afternoon! She wasn’t going to get any reading done at the current rate, so she decided to find something to do around the house to busy herself before she needed to go to bed. 

It shouldn’t have been bothering her so much. After all, the way things were in the military, accidents would happen and soldiers got hurt sometimes, but something seemed amiss. She often dealt with ponies from the base and sometimes those from the castle too, and never before had they been so hushed about anything. They usually at least offered a vague explanation…

But she had no room to be upset over that fact. She was a civilian after all, and if they were not allowed to talk, that was it. 

Silently cursing her own curiosity, Braid turned left at the bottom of the staircase and entered her own personal kitchen. It was much smaller and less specialized than the one at the shop, but the soft tones of granite countertops were much more homey than the stainless steel ones she used for work. A small table sat across from the small stove and refrigerator. A large window behind the table lit the room nicely and rounded out the cozy feel of the room.   

All afternoon, she had been letting her curiosity run wild and had not once thought to eat anything. Seeing the kitchen only drove in the realization that she was famished. Not wasting any time, she went to the fridge and retrieved a carton of juice and a container of lightly wilted daisies and cucumbers. A bump from her rear closed the door and she floated the two items to the counter. A loaf of bread slid down from the far end and a glass levitated down from the cupboard. She cracked the container and heaped a small pile of the daisy and cucumber mixture onto the bread. With the second slice of bread in position, she crossed the room and plopped down in the nearest chair at the table, levitating her supplies over once seated. The sandwich she made was a bit dull, being that the daisies were a few days old and the bread wasn’t the freshest, but it was enough. She sat at the table and chewed her food and her thoughts over simultaneously.

To her chagrin, the same old thoughts kept plaguing her mind. Civilian or not, she could tell something was up. Even Dusty had been tight-lipped, not to mention covered in bandages and looking neurotic. Again, she pushed the thoughts away and decided to focus on whether the cabinets needed new handles. 

Yes they did. The navy blue wooden hearts that had seemed a good idea when she moved in looked tacky against the cream colored cabinets. She took another greedy bite from the sandwich and put that little project on her mental to-do list. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. Before she moved on to find another detail to focus on, there was a knock at the door. Or rather it was somepony beating at the door, judging by how loud the knocks were. Braid popped the final piece of the sandwich into her mouth and exited the kitchen to answer the door. 

On the porch stood a young Crystal pony mare, barely older than a filly. She was breathing hard, her sides matted with sweat, and her expression was urgent. “Ma’am, I apologize for disturbing you, but I’m going to have to ask you to report to the Castle Square immediately.” 

“What? Why?” Braid asked, her mouth still full. 

“Sombra has called a mandatory address for the entire Empire.” 


        
        


> Chapter seven: Waste
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Coal Dust was awoken with a start by the familiar ringing of the alarm bell over the barracks door. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, hoisting himself out of the bed with practiced efficiency. 

"All base personnel report to the entry area immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat: All base personnel report to the entry area immediately. This is not a drill."

He frowned. The alarm was usually not accompanied by an intercom message. The voice on the other end seemed nervous, like the mare running it was frightened and doing her best to hide it. 

Coal Dust trotted to the door and exited the barracks, only to find a crowd of soldiers, secretaries, and a mix of others funneling past in the direction of the front gate. Coal Dust fell in with the group and went with the flow, passing the recruit depot in the slow crawl of traffic congestion. As they rounded the last quonset hut, he saw the gathering crowd at the gate. In front of the gate was a large munitions crate with Commander Nest perched atop it. 

He scanned the crowd, looking for any ponies he might know. Near the front stood a white pony that was a head taller than the rest of the lot; Headstrong always had been the easiest pony to pick out from a group. It took some doing, but he managed to slip around the fringes of the crowd and up to the front. As he went along, he noticed that a lot of ponies were affording him more looks than normal, and the extra attention made his spine crawl. 

“Hey, buddy,” Coal Dust half-heartedly greeted to Headstrong from the side. The big stallion hadn’t seen him coming and flinched. 

“Dust!” Headstrong greeted with the intensity of two hearts, wrapping a hoof around his friend’s shoulders and dragging him up even with himself. “Glad you’re okay, it sounded like you had it rough in the toilet.” 

“Watch it,” Coal Dust reminded, wincing as the bulky stallion’s hoof caught him on one of the wounds. 

“Whoops! Sorry,” Headstrong apologized, removing his hoof from his friend’s shoulder. “You sure you’re not getting sick?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine now, thanks,” Coal Dust answered quickly, ready for a change of subject. “Any idea what’s going on here?” 

“I dunno. I was put on emergency guard duty for a little while after I left the barracks. Nest was running around in a hurry and Sombra showed up for a while, but that’s all I know.” 

Coal Dust held his head in his hooves, “Oh no, this is about me.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worried. The entire base assembled just for you? I doubt it.” Headstrong said in an attempt to console his friend. 

“You don’t even know…” Coal Dust returned under his breath. 

The loud ringing of a cowbell from the munitions crate signalled that Nest was ready to start. “Attention!” he yelled. 

‘Ten-Hut!” the entire base shouted in unison, everypony standing rigidly in place and staring forward. 

Nest saluted. “At ease. Good job on the scramble, all those drills have really payed off.” The crowd shifted as they relaxed their stance. “Now then, onto to the important stuff. Im sure you’ve all heard the rumors about how last night’s patrol was assaulted and the better part of the day was spent making theories about what happened out there.”

        “Oh no,” Coal dust muttered under his breath. 

        “Well, I can tell you that after I spent the day getting to the bottom of the matter and finding out the facts, the truth is ugly. Fillies and gentlecolts, we are headed for war with the Changelings. They are the ones responsible, no doubt about it.” 

        A few murmurs of unrest spread throughout the crowd, but was quickly shushed. “As for how soon, the answer is right now. A few minutes ago, two bugs showed up and demanded that we surrender within the hour. That leaves little time for discussion, so let me be quick. Equestrians do not surrender to the likes of Changelings, and with the backing of Sombra and his Crystal Pony magic, we are going to win this battle.” 

        Coal Dust noticed that Headstrong was standing stiff as a board in an attempt to appear emotionless, but his eyes spoke that he was ready to have a heart attack. 

        “So, get yourself a little chow, get your gear and maybe do a few push-ups, and meet back here in exactly forty-five minutes. Dismissed.”





Sombra stood in the hallway that led out onto the castle’s balcony, sweating bullets and struggling to keep himself composed. He had given countless speeches in his career, and he had never had much trouble with nervousness. Public speaking was something of a natural talent to him, and the jitters had gone away very early on. He could get into his element and give a powerful and emotional speech and not feel the anxiety resemblant of a school aged foal presenting a theme to the class. 

But this speech was different. Before, all of his public speaking exploits had been in times of peace, announcing some government news or campaigning for office. Now, he was giving the speech that would make or break the Empire’s fate and that of Equestria as a whole. His entire life, no moment had been so momentous or as important, and now he was suddenly thrust to this, having not expected anything like it it to happen when he woke up in the morning. It was giving him nerves that he had nearly forgotten existed. 

His wife was there by his side, holding his hoof and comforting him. She wanted to do all that she could to console him in this time, even though she still did not know exactly what the ordeal was. Still, she recognised the signs that her husband was in distress and she was determined to help out. 

“They’re ready for you, Your Highness,” a voice broke in, bringing Sombra back to the real world. 

“Good luck,” Ruby said, planting a kiss on his cheek and squeezing his hoof one more time. 

“Thank you,” Sombra said, dismissing the guard. He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Ruby’s muzzle. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, honey,” she returned, stepping back and giving a warm smile. 

Sombra looked forward and held his head a bit higher. There was no backing out now; he could worry about being nervous when he was finished. He blinked hard as he forcibly pushed the thoughts from his mind and began trudging forward. He noticed that his hooves were much heavier than he remembered them. Three steps in, he crossed the threshold and walked into the late afternoon sunlight that bathed the balcony. 

The crowd was already noisy with chatter, though not cheering. They were all wondering what was happening, why they had been called in without any advanced notice. The small army of couriers had been very efficient, gathering nearly the entire population in only a matter of minutes. 

Over the years, Sombra had learned how to read a crowd’s general mood just by the tone of the chatter. This time, he picked up impatience and nervousness. Before he knew it, he was at the edge of the balcony. The crowd slowly began to hush as they noticed that Sombra was standing there, ready to make his announcement. As he looked on, thousands of eyes turned to face him, eagerly awaiting the news so they could get back to their lives. 

There was no time to lose,  so Sombra began by clearing his throat. “My subjects, I thank you for gathering here on such short notice. I will be short and to-the-point. I ask that you remain calm and quiet until I am finished speaking.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before pressing on into the heart of the matter. “In recent days, you might have noticed an increased military presence in the city. This has been in response to elevated threat levels from Changeling territory. These measures were initially out of caution and did not mean any imminent danger to the Empire.” 

The crowd was dead silent, all of the ponies in it listening attentively. Sombra hesitated for a second before launching into the part of the speech he dreaded the most. “Today, however, shocking new developments came to our attention. A patrol was attacked last night, and three soldiers were unfortunately killed. Today, we learned that the perpetrators of the attack were in fact Changelings.” The collective gasp came as expected, though perhaps more intense than he anticipated. 

Sombra raised a hoof, “Citizens, please! Remain calm!” The couriers standing around were yelling similar words, attempting to rein the crowd in before they became uncontrollable. The din of worried voices slowly died back, and the King felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Though there was still one more revelation that could send them over the edge to go, the first had gone over as smoothly as it could have. “Citizens, please, allow me to finish,” he reminded, bringing the crowd’s focus back to himself. “Thank you. As I was saying; We have been on high alert since we discovered this news, and we have spent the whole of the day attempting to find out more. Just a few minutes ago, we had our worst fears realized.” 

        Here it comes… 

        “News has arisen in the last hour that there is indeed a swarm…” he winced, preparing for the worst, “... waiting outside of the Empire.” Sombra closed his eyes and waited for the mass hysteria to set in. He was prepared for anarchy to take over and for his efforts to come flying apart at the seams, effectively dooming the Empire to defeat. 

        The crowd once again gasped, but immediately fell silent again. Sombra waited a few seconds before he opened his eyes and looked back at the crowd. They were all staring back up at him, waiting for more information. The King sighed relief, and stepped up to the balcony railing once more. The worst of the speech was over. He felt the anxiety fade quickly, replaced with grim determination. 

“This swarm wishes to take over our Empire. Very soon, they will attack our city in an attempt to take it from us. I do not intend for that to happen!” The response from the crowd indicated that they were beginning to feel a sense of patriotism from those few words. 

        “Our military is going to meet them on the battlefield, but they are not strong enough to win the battle alone. You citizens are those who will truly win this fight! Crystal Ponies, you all possess a powerful magic deep within yourselves that can make all the difference in this battle! When the fighting starts, we will power the Crystal Heart and repel the scourge from our homeland!” 

        The cheers that came from the crowd were promising. He had them on the right track, but just a bit more of a push was needed to get them fully fired up. “Make yourselves ready, my citizens! Prepare yourselves to defend what is yours! Your families! Your neighbors! Your country! We will win this battle because we are united as one!” 

        The cheers from the crowd reached the level the Sombra was now aiming for. He stepped down from the railing, breathing a sigh of immense relief. 




        
“Some speech he gave back there,” Headstrong muttered while adjusting a pad inside of his helmet. 

        Coal Dust said nothing in return, continuing to stare blankly ahead. Since the announcement, he had remained silent. Headstrong was beginning to notice. 

        “Are you even listening, Dust?” he asked pointedly, poking at Coal Dust with a hoof. 

        “Huh? Sorry,” Coal Dust dismissed without even looking at his friend. 

        “Buddy, you’ve been acting really off today. I know what happened last night was bad, but you're not acting yourself at all.” 

        Coal Dust finally looked at Headstrong. “Can we change the subject, please?” 

        “Fine by me, just as long as you quit beating yourself up over it.” Headstrong blew the helmet off, admiring the shine he kept on it at all times. 

        “Thank you,” Coal Dust returned. He grabbed the armor sitting on the bed next to him and started undoing the straps. Headstrong was naturally already dressed and ready, having made a point to be the first one in line at the armory and also chosen to forgo eating. 

“How’s your family?” Headstrong asked, not putting a lot of emphasis on the question; he was wrapped up in inspecting his spear point.

“Why that?” Coal Dust asked in return. 

“I dunno. Something to change the subject, I guess.” Headstrong never took his eyes off of the spear while he spoke. 

“Alright. I haven’t heard much from them lately. I sent home half of my pay this month like always along with a letter to check in. That was about a week and a half ago; still haven't heard anything back.” 

        Headstrong chuckled, “You send off half of your pay and I can barely manage on my own without giving any up. How do you do that?” 

        “For one, I don’t spend most of it on going out to eat,” Coal Dust answered back in jest. 

        “Yeah, sure. Make jokes out of me being big,” Headstrong replied, mockingly taking offense. 

        “But really, I just don’t need all that much. Plus my mom’s out in Fillydelphia still raising two kids, so she needs the money more.” 

        “Wow, you’re a saint. My parents struggled when I was growing up but now that all the kids are out of the house they aren’t doing too bad.” 

        “Probably because the food bill is half of what it was,” Coal Dust quipped.

        Headstrong shrugged, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He hadn’t realized that another joke was being made of his eating habits. 

        Coal Dust stood up and slipped the armor plate on over his back, reaching back to pull the straps down tight with his teeth. He winced a bit as the two halves came together. “Damn thing keeps pinching me,” he grunted, shifting awkwardly to free the fur caught in the armor. 
        
“You gotta suck in your gut when you pull it tight,” Headstrong advised. 

        “Good point,” Coal Dust agreed, finally managing to shake free of the pinch. 

        The barracks door opened with a loud squeak. A mare poked her head in. “Five minutes, boys. Chop chop!” 

        Coal Dust pulled his helmet on; the crest had a few threads frayed and they tickled at his ears, making them twitch. 

        “About ready?” Headstrong asked. 

        “Yeah,” Coal Dust answered, retrieving his spear that was propped on the bedside and sliding his sword into its sheath. “As I’ll ever be.” 

        “Let’s go!” the large white earth pony shouted in an attempt to rile the rest of the stallions. He trotted towards the door, followed by two other soldiers. The rest were finalizing their own preparations. Coal Dust fell in behind the other two and exited the barracks as Headstrong held the door open. Outside, other soldiers were filing out and making their way to the front gate. Their faces were grim and determined under the helmets, though many could not help but show some anxiety in their expressions. 

        Ahead loomed the same image as forty-five minutes ago, yet a few things were different. Nest was perched atop the crate with a blank screen behind him, and he was wearing a set of plate armor instead of his usual uniform. The crowd had only just started gathering by the time Headstrong and Coal Dust found a place in the front. The minutes seemed to drag by, Nest standing on the crate like a statue as he watched the troops gather. Five minutes passed before he finally began to speak. 

        “Attention!” Nest barked. 

        “Ten-hut!” acknowledged the soldiers, standing at attention. 

        “At ease,” Nest dismissed. “Now then, as I told you before, we are preparing for a full-on attack by the Changelings. Let me clue you in on the game plan.” The screen came to life with magic, and an aerial picture of the Empire came into view. “Based on our intelligence, the attack will come from the northwest. The lay of the land is mostly flat with a low rise about half a mile from the edge of the city.” 

        A diagram appeared on the picture, showing a red line with arrows behind it on the hill. “This is how we expect them to approach. One big ball of exoskeleton that banzai-rushes and destroys. They will come hard and fast, and show no mercy. Also, they likely outnumber us fifty to one. Sounds hopeless, I know, but we have a major ace in the hole. Aurora if you please?” 

        The screen showed the Empire light up and fire off the usual blast of magic that was sent every week and turned everypony nearby crystalline. “Though it has never been tested, we can assume that the Crystal Heart is not friendly to those who wish to do harm. While we are out there fighting and holding out for the city, King Sombra will gather up the citizens and fire off the mother-of-all spell blasts. This should send the bugs packing, and then we win.” The screen faded back to blank white. 

        Nest took a drink of water. “We don’t have long. They promised to attack and we only have about ten minutes before time’s up. As far as our tactics go, we rely on defensive measures only. Do not take the offensive and stick close to one-another. If they break our ranks, we lose. Protect your soft spots and stay vocal to your squadmates. Let them know what’s going on and watch out for each other. Stay focused, and stay alive. Sombra should be able to fire before we get into the real thick of things, but always stay cautious.” 

 The soldiers were so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Nest looked out at them, this time with more determination in his eyes. “Now I want to hear it from all of you. Are you ready to defend all those that we hold dear?” 

“Yes, sir!” yelled the congregation in unison. 

“Are you ready to keep the entire land of Equestria safe?!” 
        
        “Yes, sir!” 

        “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Nest hopped down from the crate, “Saddle up, boys. We’re going to make history.” The crate was tugged away from the gate by two workers, leaving the gate clear. The chain link fence rattled as it was pulled to the side and opened to the widest extent possible. Nest was the first one out, followed by a mass of eager soldiers. 

        Victory seemed certain. 




        
Ten minutes had passed in the blink of an eye, and Sombra found himself down on the ground, standing next to the Crystal Heart at the base of the castle. Ponies were coming up to him in droves, lining up and requesting orders on what to do, where to go, and other questions that had little relevance. He watched them hurrying around, going to their places and gathering their loose ends. A group of foals, some Crystal Ponies and some not, ran past the castle in what appeared to be a game of war. 

        The entire Empire seemed to be buzzing with a type of resilient energy. The ponies looked determined and ready to do their part. As Sombra watched them go, he felt a sense of pride at how well his subjects had handled the situation. 

        “Hi, Honey!” announced a familiar voice from behind. Sombra turned and was greeted by a quick kiss from his wife. She looked absolutely radiant from the way she walked to the way her coat shone in the sunlight. 

        “Hello, dear,” Sombra replied, giving her a quick peck on the cheek in return. 

“Everything’s turning out well. I mean, look at these ponies!” Ruby exclaimed, gesturing to the ponies with her hoof. “They aren’t afraid of the Changelings, Sombra. Your speech made them believe that they will win.” 

“Oh, I can’t take credit for this. We all want to protect what we hold dear, do we not?” He pulled her into a hug and looked around, his pride deepening with each passing moment. 

“I should go take my own place, honey. We all need to do our part, after all,” Ruby reminded, wiggling herself free of the hug. 

“Yes, that is a good point,” Sombra replied. 

“Your Highness!” 

“Excuse me, Ruby. I will see you later,” Sombra said, giving her a quick hug and trotting away to meet the pony who called for him. Ruby went on her own way, heading out to take her place to power the Heart. 





Coal Dust and Headstrong found themselves near the front of the pack of soldiers as they passed around the Castle. They were moving at a steady trot, though not in any form of order. They moved as foals do through a hall at school, in an amorphous mob that threatens to bowl over any that stand in the way. The Crystal Ponies who had begun to take up positions in the road were forced to step out of the way and let the army pass. 

Coal Dust heard cheers from ponies lining the streets. They were all rooting for them, trying their best to put confidence in the soldiers as they marched forth into a heavily lopsided battle. He found himself enjoying the encouragement. 

        Beside him, Headstrong had lost his facade of being fearless. He did not waiver, but one look at his face and Coal Dust could tell that the big earth pony was mortally afraid. One particularly loud whistle from the sidewalk made him wince noticeably. 

        The group passed the castle and kept to the right, taking the road that ran to the northwest. The ponies gradually thinned out as they went along, their cheers and words of encouragement also fading. Up ahead, Coal Dust could see the edge of the city and the beginning of the tundra. His resolve began to falter as he realized that he was nearing the battlefield. 

        Mere moments later, they slipped through the weather shield. The odd wave of warmth it sent through the body reminded him of the day prior, when he had passed this exact spot with four ponies in tow, and how he had staggered back in a few hours later, with only one badly injured pony on his back. How the last remaining strength in his body left him as he collapsed to the road. The guilt he had felt when Gust rolled from his back and landed in the ditch. 

No, this was not the time to reflect. He had a battle to fight and an Empire to protect, and the painful memories could wait. It took a serious mental effort, but he managed to force the thoughts from his head and focus his attention. 

Nest stopped not long after passing the shield. He watched as the remainder of the unit passed the shield and grouped up in the loose powdery snow. Several of them were shivering already as they left the pleasantly warm city and entered the bitter chill that the weather spell worked to keep out. 

“Patrol captains! Get a slip from me and line up at the front to gather your groups!” Nest yelled, his breath making a cloud of vapor. Coal Dust, Headstrong, and a number of other stallions walked forward and formed a line that ran horizontally out from Nest. 

“Attention! The squad leaders will call their groups and then we coordinate our placements. Your group is your family. You stick with them like you would to your brothers or sisters. Understood?” Nest barked the order with little emotion in his voice. 

“Yes, sir!” the crowd of soldiers yelled back in unison. 

“Get to it, boys,” Nest said, this time directed at the squad leaders and not the lot of soldiers. 

The group call went off smoothly enough, each soldier coming forward and standing behind their leaders without question. Coal Dust found it highly similar to choosing teams for a playground game, though the groups were already selected. There were sixty leaders in all, and each had a full rank standing behind them shortly. The crowd eventually dwindled down to nothing, all of the soldiers having found places in the lines behind the squad leaders. 

        Nest began pacing in front of the lines, “We form a defensive line across the front! Be sure to use your shields to the fullest extent possible, and keep an eye on where the pony next to you is at all times. Expect them to come with their fangs out and their horns blazing! Squad leaders, organize your troops into a battle line. Move out!” 

        Shouts of excitement from the soldiers filled the air as the tightly stacked groups of soldiers began spreading out. Coal Dust and Headstrong managed to keep their groups next to each other, and since they were near the center of the group, they didn’t have to move far to spread out and cover their sectors. The resulting battle line wound up two ponies deep and did a poor job of covering the Empire’s northwest side. 

        Nest stood behind the line, observing the outcome of his hastily contrived battle plan. It didn’t look like they could hold on through much against a swarm the size of a field army, but in truth they didn’t need that capability when Sombra’s heart blast came into play. No matter how he organized the troops, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the swarm anyway on their own. 

The soldiers stood idly, checking their equipment over one last time or talking to the ponies around them. Up ahead, there was nothing but empty white plains. 

Minutes ticked by, and Nest found himself staring at the pocket watch he had brought along. The swarm had warned to attack in one hour. One hour and five minutes had passed since the Changelings had delivered their message. If there was one thing that the commander hated, it was lateness, even if it meant lateness to a war. He felt his disgust with the enemy fortify a little bit more as the second hand continued ticking away. 

        “Here they come!” 

        All eyes went forward to the distant ridge. Surely enough, the very top of it had become shrouded in black. Everypony in the line lifted their shields, some already adopting battle stances. The metallic ring of swords being drawn sounded all around, and Coal Dust followed suit. Headstrong lifted his spear and rested it on the top of his shield, readying to deliver quick jabs at the attackers as they closed in. A good number of unicorns around them ignited their horns in preparation of firing their own attack spells at the Changelings. Everypony held their breath in anticipation. 

        In lieu of the frenzied rush that everypony was preparing for, the swarm seemed to move agonizingly slow. A glance at his watch revealed to Nest that it had taken them nearly three minutes to make it to the bottom of the hill; they still had nearly half a mile to cross before they arrived; they were walking towards the battle. Around the line some ponies began prancing in place, the wait clawing at their sanity like nails on a chalkboard. 

        “Steady, steady,” Nest assured them, attempting to hold the eager ones back. They calmed down a bit, though still looked ready to tear out and meet the swarm head-on.

        Slowly but surely, more and more of the horizon was overtaken by the black mob. The swarm stretched from one edge of the horizon to the other; a stark contrast to the small contingent of soldiers standing in defense of the Empire. While those who were anxious continued forcing themselves to stay put and hold rank, many others began losing their nerve. 

        The swarm was nearly halfway across the field in front of the soldiers now. Everypony stood at the ready, anxiously awaiting the magical blast that was surely coming to supplement their efforts and keep them safe from having to fight. 

A quiet, very low rumbling in the distance caught Coal Dust’s attention now. He wondered what it was, since it sounded too distant to be coming from the swarm It almost sounded like distant thunder.
        
Coal Dust and Headstrong said words of reassurance to those under their command. The swarm, after nearly twenty minutes of dragging across the field in front of them, was close enough to make out individual drones among the ranks. Even at this distance, the piercing blue eyes of the Changelings were unnerving to look at. 

     	 “Incoming!” somepony down the line yelled. All eyes turned skyward, and the sight of what was coming struck fear into the hearts of all those who looked. Coal Dust felt another pang of memory as he witnessed it. 

        Arcs of green spellfire were sailing overhead, piercing through the thin deck of wispy clouds above. 

        “Get down! Take cover!” he yelled to those in his command. The other leaders were also yelling similar things at their troops. 

        The ponies in the line all sank down and pulled their shields over their backs and heads in a vain attempt to protect themselves from what was coming. 

        Seconds passed, and no planet-shattering explosions rocked the line as expected. Coal Dust was one of the first to move his shield aside and look to the heavens just in time to see something even more terrifying. 

        The spellfire was hitting the shield over the city. 
        



       
        The Crystal Ponies were in position, and everypony else had done all they could to prepare the Empire. The streets were full of Crystal Ponies, all standing in the middle of the streets, waiting for the signal to fire. Some stood still, looking to the Castle patiently for the command, while others had gone to idle chatter to pass the time. The sidewalks were lined with pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies alike, their eyes to the sky and especially the northwest. 

        Sombra had returned to his balcony to prepare to give the signal. A pegasus had been positioned at the top of the castle on sentinel duty, to keep an eye from above on the unfolding skirmish outside the city and let Sombra know the perfect time to fire the Heart. She was perched on the top of the spire, watching intently. 

        Sombra looked back out over his Kingdom once more, looking at all of the ponies spread out around the city. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, savoring the crisp, clean smell of the pleasant winter air. It was an otherwise beautiful day despite the battle about to take place. 

The ponies were ready; faster than he had expected them to be. While looking out over them, his mind flashed back to the ant farm sitting in his chamber. A smile grew on his lips.

“They’re advancing!” announced the watch pegasus, swooping down and landing on the balcony. 

Sombra tensed. The hour to decide the fate of the Empire was upon them. “Thank you. When they meet the Army, tell me. We fire just before the first clash.”

“Yes sir,” the pegasus agreed, snapping her wing in a salute. 

“Stay away from the tip of the tower when it fires.” 

“Yes sir!” she shouted before shooting skyward again. 

Sombra watched her land at the very tip once again and then diverted his gaze to the northwestern edge of the city. He could see the Army, lined up and waiting for the attack. Ahead of them was the leading edge of the wave of Changelings advancing, covering over the pristine white snow of a distant hill with black chitin. They were closing in, though slowly. Sombra had expected them to be rushing forward in a blitzkrieg assault. His eyes remained fixed forward, watching as the swarm drew closer. He did not even think to look up until he heard the shouting from the lookout pegasus. 

“Fire it! Fire it! Now!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Sombra looked up at the sentinel as she dove away from the point of the spire, and his stomach dropped into his legs. 

Above the Empire, the weather shield was impacted. Not once, but dozens of times. Bright green arcs of flaming spellfire crashed into the transparent barrier, exploding violently. The shield, usually invisible, pulsated with a sickly shade of yellow under the new stress. Explosions rained down across the shield over the Empire, turning the entire sky golden. The Crystal Ponies in the street below were spellbound by the spectacle above them. 

And then it could take no more. The shield let loose a deep, electrical crackling as tears appeared in it. They widened with frightening speed, splitting the sky open and revealing the bright blue open air that had been momentarily hidden. The weather shield finished dissolving into thin air in an instant, and then there was no barrier left to protect the Empire. Sombra charged his horn and fired a bright red flare into the sky, desperately trying to send the signal and fire the Heart in the last few moments. 

He was too late.

The spellfire rained down, uninhibited to strike the city below. A brief moment of stillness settled over the city before more thunderous explosions began hitting it directly. 

The ponies in the streets began running amok, screaming in terror and  searching in earnest for respite from the bombardment. Some ran into nearby buildings, others ran straight for the castle, and a few stood still, their heads bowed, still trying to charge the Heart up in time to make the crucial shot. The road began to glow around them, but faded long before they managed to connect to any nearby ponies. More acrid hisses sounded out as more beams rained down from above. They impacted the ground and sent spires of debris skyward; so many of them were coming down at once that the roar of explosions was sometimes continuous. All around, ponies and buildings were disappearing in clouds of smoke and dust from the artillery fire. 

Sombra watched the scene playing out before him in a state of shock mixed with horror. He desperately wanted to run, to help, to find out how to put a stop to the merciless shelling, but his legs simply refused to move. 

zzzzzip. BOOM. Above the balcony, a streak of green slammed into the Castle. It shook the entire structure to the core, rattling the deck below his hooves. Sombra didn’t think to shield himself magically, instead throwing his hooves over his head just in time to protect himself as a shower of crystalline shards rained down from above. The fragments were as sharp as razor blades; some bounced off of his back, some sliced at his skin as they rained past, and one particularly large one embedded itself in his back. The shock from the penetrating fragment was enough to free him of his petrified shock. Flashing his magic, he teleported down from the balcony to the street directly below the castle. 

Now he was amongst the chaos. Ponies were in a panic, many trying to crowd in under the castle for shelter. Many of those who had taken shelter were injured; most of them bruised and bleeding from small wounds. One earth pony mare, however, was missing the lower half of a foreleg. She was glassy-eyed, lying in a puddle of her own blood, and surrounded by several others attempting to help. A small group of castle guards noticed Sombra immediately and surrounded him in a defensive circle.  Many ponies were still out in the thick of the barrage, desperately running for any shelter they could find. Turning to face the group under the castle, Sombra noticed that they were all looking to him, desperately hoping that he would know what to do. 

He did not. The situation had turned for the worst in a matter of seconds. He hadn’t imagined that this would happen, even when he had been thinking of worst-case scenarios earlier in the day. He looked over his shoulder, just in time to see a house down the road struck by a beam and blown to smithereens. There were bodies out in the streets, the ground was littered with craters, and the Crystal Ponies had lost their shine. They were all dull, their manes and tails hanging limp from their bodies as indicators that their magic had left them. 

Sombra swallowed deeply, hanging his head and wincing when it disturbed the fragment still embedded in his back. “Citizens!” he announced, desperately gasping through the pain in his back. “We can still win! Gather what magic you have within yourselves, and power the Heart! This is our last shot! Make it—” 

Sombra trailed off as the he watched the final nail be driven into his plan’s coffin. Three ponies near the front of the crowd disappeared into swirling green flames, revealing themselves as Changelings. Sombra watched as the ponies in the crowd took action, attacking the infiltrators with whatever they had on them. The three Changelings were soon buried under a writhing mass of ponies. First one limp body came out of the dogpile, then two, and finally the third Changeling was dispatched. 

Sombra realized what he had to do now. It was time to leave the Empire. 

As he began the awkward and pained lope around the crowd to lead them to the south and east, Sombra recognized the sentinel Pegasus standing near where the Changelings had been killed. “You, sentinel. I have one last job for you. Fly up to meet the army and find Commander Nest. Notify him that we are abandoning the city and that he is to stand down and retreat.” 

“Yes, Your Highness!” she confirmed, saluting and taking flight in the direction of the battlefield. She didn’t hesitate for even a second, and Sombra felt a bit of pride at her bravery. 

        As the sentinel departed, Sombra remembered that Ruby Splash had been out somewhere in the city when the barrage commenced. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, and he cast several glances towards the large huddle of ponies. He didn’t spend much time looking, as he knew that Ruby would have come forward to him by now. Instead of searching for her, he looked to the small contingent of Royal Guard around him. 

        “Guards! You have a job to do. Ruby Splash is still out there. You find her and you bring her back safely. Understood?”

        “Yes sir!” they shouted, turning and running out from the cover of the castle. Of the seven present, five went out. The two remaining guards took up positions on either side of Sombra, flanking him as he began walking around to the opposite side of the castle. 

The barrage seemed to be relenting. The spells came less frequently now, though still frequently enough to keep the din of deep rumbling explosions alive. As Sombra made his way around the crowd, a beam hit close enough to make his ears ring and send a few bits of debris flying at the ponies under the shelter. 

By the time he made it to the other side of the crowd, the barrage had slowed to nearly a stop. Sombra began the march out of the city without any fanfare. He walked as quickly as he could, limping from the shard still embedded in his back. The crowd followed him hesitantly, all of them huddling together and watching the sky for more spellfire. 

The road that ran to the southeast was pitted with craters that the group had to avoid. Near the craters in the road were scattered bodies of crystal ponies and occasional Castle Guards, some more complete than others. With each body they passed, another group of ponies lost control of their stomachs and vomited onto the road. 

Many buildings around them bore the scars of the barrage. Smouldering holes, charred black on the edges, dotted many homes; some of them were missing entire sections or had been reduced to little more than a pile of rubble. Occasional survivors were out wandering, those who saw the large group went to join it. Many of them were sobbing as they marched past their former homes and took in a final glimpse. 

Sombra kept his horror to himself as he walked. The citizens needed to see that he could stay strong in this time of desperation, and allowing himself to break down now would lead to the only sense of order left dissolving. He held his head up high to the point that it was uncomfortable, trying to keep his line of sight away from the ground so he would not see the devastation. 

The end of the carnage lay just ahead. The edge of the city was slowly approaching, looking more and more enticing to the refugees as the march continued. However, in their path stood a pile of rubble that blocked the road. A taller building had toppled into the street, spilling itself over, across to the other sidewalk. Sombra motioned for the group to halt before he approached the rubble to look for a way through. The pile was too jagged and unstable to walk on, and he could not find a suitable path over it on first inspection. 

As his eyes traveled down the pile to the original site of the building, he caught sight of something that would haunt him forever. On the outer edge of the debris pile where the sidewalk met it, sat what remained of a foal carriage. It was crumpled like a toy and barely recognizable, but what was next to it was what set him off. Lying about a foot in front of the carriage, barely visible under a mangled support beam, was a small blue hoof. It was so small that it couldn’t have been more than a yearling. 

Sombra’s stomach lurched violently and he felt his knees buckle. He quickly averted his eyes as he felt hot tears start to build up. He held the tears back and forced himself to persist. There was surely another way out without having to double back through the city.

“This way!” he announced, his voice faintly breaking from the pain of what he had witnessed. He did his best to run away from the foal’s body, but could only hobble. He led the group off of the street and around the building opposite of the collapsed one. The alleyway was tight for the group of nearly a thousand ponies, forcing them to walk single file through it. Sombra went first and then stood at the end of the alleyway, ushering the refugees through. Ahead lay empty tundra and the endless expanse of pure white snow. 





        The next few moments were a blur for Coal Dust. The spellfire had impacted the shield and destroyed it with little resistance. The sickening roar of explosions raining down on the civilians and the entire Empire’s lifeline echoed hauntingly across the tundra. Some ponies began screaming in anger at the Changelings. 

        “You bastards!” a voice screamed from down the line. A moment later, the form of a red unicorn came barreling out of the formation, charging headfirst towards the Changelings. He fired several rapid bursts from his horn as he sped along, eyes blazing with anger and bellowing the most vulgar profanity he could muster as he charged forth. His shots mostly missed, but one found its mark and dropped a Changeling to the ground. As soon as the last of his shots went off, he was cut down by a multitude of return shots from the swarm. 

        It started with one, an then another. One by one, more soldiers began to break rank and charge at the changelings in a futile, anger driven attack. Only a lucky few managed to score hits before being riddled with beams of magic. 

        Nest’s signature tenor screaming echoed from afar, desperately trying to restore order. 

        Seeing the foolish few who charged bludgeoned to death by Changeling magic was too much for some of the weaker-willed soldiers. Immediately following the departure of the chargers, an even greater number of soldiers bolted in the opposite direction, away from the fight and towards the city. Several from Coal Dust and Headstrong’s units were among the cowards. 

        Nest’s screaming drew closer and was beginning to lose volume as he lost his voice. Coal Dust caught sight of the commander, his pale green head turned red under the fur by his impassioned shouts. 

        The line was left even thinner. The roar of the barrage and the smoke rising from the city slowly began to kill off all vestiges of hope left in them. Each second that passed marked another soldier that ran. Some ran for fear of their own lives, some ran for fear of the lives of the ponies in the city. 

        Nest, faced with the barrage pummeling the city behind him and the frighteningly steady approach of the Changelings, also found himself considering retreat. The blast could still happen, couldn’t it? Sombra was probably just getting the citizens back on their hooves and charging the Heart at that very moment. 

        So why hadn’t it come already? 

        The Changelings continued their advance, slowly closing the gap between them and the decaying contingent of soldiers. Coal Dust noticed that nearly a fourth of his troops had already turned tail and ran, and Headstrong’s unit wasn’t faring any better. Unease was evident in all those who remained as the others began to flee. 

        “Commander Nest!” yelled a female voice from far behind the line. A young blue pegasus mare came rushing out of the city, flying along the lines for a short distance before she spotted the Commander. She approached him with haste and stopped in an unsteady hover in front of him.

“Commander!” she shouted, speaking rapidly from the adrenaline coursing through her body. “Message from Sombra! The Empire is being abandoned!” 

“What?!” Nest yelled in confusion, tearing his eyes from the line of Changelings ahead and locking them on the messenger. 

“They’re evacuating to the southeast. He ordered you to stand down and retreat,” she reported. 

Nest felt a large piece of his remaining sanity get kicked loose by the news. He looked back and forth between the mare and his line, desperately looking for the answer to the problem; he knew that no such answer existed. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nest acknowledged, fighting to keep from dissolving into a rambling insane pony. The mare saluted, a gesture that was out of place for a civilian. Nest saluted back, not bothering to question it. She flitted away, flying up and away from the battle lines to soar over the city. Nest watched her shrink into the distance and then turned to face his own troops. Those who had heard the exchange watched with pleading looks to turn tail and run. Nest stood still, silently trying to comprehend what he had just been told. 

In those few moments of hesitation, Nest witnessed one final event that broke the last shred of sanity he possessed. In random places along the battle line, several swirls of green fire erupted from seemingly nowhere. The places where soldiers stood a moment before were replaced by Changelings. The few drones who had infiltrated caught the ponies around them off guard. They immediately leapt onto the first victim they could find and wrangled them to the ground in a systematic and well-practiced maneuver. 

Coal Dust heard commotion to his right side and watched as one of his soldiers was tackled to the ground. A quick jab from a grotesquely curved blade kept the soldier down, and the Changeling immediately began searching for a new target. He locked eyes on Coal Dust, who had just enough time to yell for help before also being wrestled down. 

Coal Dust yelped when he hit the ground, this time from the pain of a sharp hoof jabbing at the wounds sustained the previous evening. He kicked savagely, though his hooves never found their mark. As he helplessly flailed, he subconsciously began bracing for a knife to plunge into his back. 

The sound of a powerful bodycheck above him and the sudden removal of the porous hoof in his wound surprised and relieved the Pegasus. He looked around, and a few feet away was Headstrong, standing over the attacking drone and pummeling him with heavy blows. Another soldier helped him back upright and brushed the snow from his side. 

Headstrong stood up again and stepped away from the now crushed and still remains of the Changeling, wiping some of the blue-green fluid off his face. He nodded to Coal Dust and passed by to retake his position. 

Farther down the line to the south and west, Commander Nest finally came to grips with the situation. He was now the only thing left standing between the swarm. They stood no chance, and in the seconds after the infiltrators revealed themselves, he began shouting with all the force left in his already raspy lungs. 

“Retreat!” 

A second later, a roar of insect-like chirps and growls rose from the advancing swarm. The ponies watched as multiple Changelings took wing from the swarm and rushed forward at alarming speed. The entire swarm then took off in a gallop, charging forward to meet the flimsy defensive position. The gap rapidly closed and the remaining soldiers dug in their hooves and presented their shields. Coal Dust thought he heard a distant call for retreat in the final seconds before impact.

The clash of the two armies knocked some of the smaller soldiers over. Those who had fallen left holes in the defense, and Changelings rushed in through the gaps, slashing about wildly as they found soft targets. Screams rattled through the line as soldiers were taken down. 

“Retreat!” came a multitude of voices from the left. Coal Dust and Headstrong turned to the left to see a rush of ponies departing the battlefield at a full gallop. The line was dissolving from one end to the other. 

Coal Dust needed no further invitation. He gave a final thrust with his shield to knock back the drones pushing against it, and when he had them at bay for a brief second, he dropped the shield and bolted. As soon as he turned around, he felt the cold steel of a Changeling’s dagger scrape across his rump. He yelped in surprise and gave a buck with his hind legs, contacting the attacker in the gut and throwing his balance off enough to fall.  

For the second time in under a minute, someone was helping him back to his hooves. This time it was Headstrong, and he made use of his size and was able to lift his friend and get him back on his hooves without stopping. Coal Dust was back in high gear as soon as he was upright, and they joined the ranks of the soldiers in exodus from the battle. 

The Changelings did not make a point to pursue the departing soldiers. As soon as the line fell apart and fell back through the city, they slowed their pace back to the steady march from before. The thin band of ponies crossed the Empire in an adrenaline-fueled dead sprint, desperately fleeing for their lives. Behind them, the sea of black chitin rushed into the unguarded metropolis. 

The Crystal Empire had fallen.

> Chapter eight: Exodus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Gust was getting used to the constant darkness that surrounded him. At first, he thought he was going to go insane when he was told that it would be another three days before the bandages could be removed from his face. A few minutes of seething anguish had passed by quickly enough, but were then followed by what felt like hours of depression. Only now was he starting to get a grip on his situation and come to terms with it. The doctor hadn’t spared any details about the extent of the injuries, and the dull pain he felt through his face and chest confirmed that his wounds were indeed real and that this wasn’t just a bad dream. 

It wasn’t so bad, he supposed. There were nurses that sounded pretty enough to wait on him, the bed was soft, and now that his sight was out of order, his hearing had become much more acute. His bed was near the nurses’ station, and over the course of the afternoon, he had taken some entertainment from eavesdropping on the nurses as they worked. Lots of what he heard was medical jargon that he couldn’t understand, but there was a fair bit of gossip as one would expect when mares got together. It wasn’t exactly what he would have called first class entertainment, but it worked to keep his mind occupied. 

        Except now, the hospital was silent. The only sounds in the room were the distant beeps of a heart monitor and his own breathing. It was starting to get unbearable without at least something to listen in on, and his thoughts were often slipping back to the unbearable darkness. 

        Boom.

        Gust’s ears picked up on something that sounded like a distant rumble of thunder. 

        Boom. 

There it was again, this time slightly louder. The bedside cart rattled lightly with the second rumble, and he could also feel some vibration in the bed itself. 

        Boom... Boom-BOOM-BOOM!!!

        The low rumbles suddenly transformed into a terrifying cacophony, shaking the entire room and making dust fall from the ceiling. Gust braced himself in the bed, trying to suppress his mounting fear. The all-too-familiar sounds of explosions sounded like they were coming from all around the building. It had to be the Changelings, he was sure of it. What else could be the source of the explosive barrage outside? 

        “Nurse!” a voice nearby yelled. A few other yells for assistance immediately after, and a single set of frantic hoofsteps began running back and forth. 

        Boom...CRASH!!!!!

Gust winced as the hospital shook and the sounds of shattering crystal and a heavy scent of ozone filled the air.  His throat choked up and he began sneezing uncontrollably, wrenching his torso painfully each time. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that a thick cloud of dust had entered his room. He moved his forehooves over his face instinctively and huddled himself as deep into the bed as possible. 

        The noise outside continued, almost to the point of becoming a constant din. The entire building shook from closer blasts, with at least one more direct hit in the same wing of the small hospital. Gust sat in his bed, unable to move, silently praying to Celestia and Luna that he wouldn’t become a victim of the barrage. As if in answer to his silent plea, the explosions began tapering off. As quickly as it had begun, the barrage faded away to complete silence. 

        Gust allowed himself to relax to his regular position once he was sure that the explosions were gone. His heart was pounding, and he let out a sigh of relief that he had survived the attack. 

        A set of hoofsteps ran by at a sprint. “Nurse?” Gust asked. The pony stopped at the nurses’ station briefly, threw open a few drawers and rifled through them in a hurry, and then continued bolting away. He called out again, still not attracting the pony’s attention. A door slammed closed, and Gust knew that whoever it was had left. 

        “Hello?” Gust asked to nopony in particular, in the hope that someone was still in the ward. There was no answer, and with the absence of the heart monitor’s distant beeps, he could only guess that the only other patient in the recovery ward was gone as well. With no other options, he relaxed his tensed body and lay still, listening for anything he could possibly hear. Despite the fact that there was a new hole in the room somewhere that led to the outside, the hospital was as silent as it had ever been. 

        “Is anyone there?” he asked again, this time more panic rising in his tone. “Hello?!”

        “Don’t leave me!” 





        Sombra stood solemnly in the chilly afternoon air, watching the massive swarm descend upon his Empire from a ridge that overlooked the city from the southeast. The massive group of Changelings looked like a black stain on the pristine snowfall as it slowly filtered into the buildings and claimed its prize. Though it was painful to watch the city he had worked so hard for to fall, he was silently thankful that the hive was not pursuing the refugees further. 

        A large group of ponies was crossing the landscape between the dethroned king and the Empire; the army had retreated. Most of the civilian stragglers had gotten out already, and the final few that Sombra could discern were right along with the group of soldiers. They were the last ones out. 

        Not able to bear the weight of looking at the city he had failed, Sombra turned away. The group of survivors he had led to safety stood nearby; instinctually huddled together in a defensive circle. They were shell-shocked over what just transpired. In the course of a day, they had gone from living their lives as usual to fleeing their homes in the path of a surprise invasion. 

        The sounds of many different sets of hooves drew nearer, and Sombra knew that the final survivors had arrived. He did not turn to face the group of battered soldiers; unable to bear the sight of yet more ponies who were injured because of his inability to protect his kingdom. 

        “Your highness,” a familiar voice rasped from behind him. Sombra winced and turned to face the commander reluctantly. Nest bore several wounds, one scar on his face narrowly missed his eye and several wounds were still bleeding on his legs. He offered a tired and unenthusiastic salute. Sombra remained silent, unable to find the words to address the commander. 

        “Hell of a thing,” Nest began, taking a glance back at the city. Even from the distant ridge, they could see the Changelings flooding through the streets.

        “How many made it out? Did you see any others in the city?” Sombra forced himself to ask. 

        “It was deserted. High civilian casualties though,” Nest answered, a twinge of anguish in his voice at the mention of the fatalities.

        Sombra’s shoulders fell, and he looked at the ground. “We need to go.” 

        “Yes, we do,” Nest agreed. “I say we keep everyone herded together tight and bolt southeast from here. What do you think?” 

        “Good plan.” Sombra turned around and faced the group of ponies. They were all worse for wear, each with some degree of injury and a look of misery plastered on their faces. Their heads hung low, and several foals were crying. The king cleared his throat, “Everyone, we must go. Stay in a group and remain close to each other. I do not want to see any of you straying from the group.”
        
“ATTENTION!” Nest barked to the soldiers, though also pulling the attention of the civilians away from Sombra. “All soldiers form up on the outside of the group. These ponies are your life now. You protect them no matter the cost to yourself, you got that?” 

“Yes sir,” they replied, their voices sounding weary and unenthusiastic. With that, they began spreading out to take their places in the ranks. 

        The group didn’t need to reposition much, as they were already standing fairly tightly together. The soldiers surrounded the civilians without a hitch, and the group was fully formed within two minutes. Two soldiers were pulled aside and designated to guard the leaders. Within minutes, the group started forward. A few took a last glance back at the city before they began their march. 

       The sun was falling low in the sky, and travelling without supplies at night was going to be dangerous. It was sure to be yet another trial by fire.  




        
        The refugees walked in their tight huddle under the inky blackness of an overcast night sky.  In their southward journey, the group had passed open fields and occasional thickets, but now the landscape switched to a forest. The trees were mostly devoid of leaves, but a few stragglers were still left to faintly rattle in the breeze. The snowpack had diminished to only patches of light accumulation scattered in places where the sunlight couldn’t reach. 

        The group was much less tightly packed than before. The dense trees would not allow them to move in a tight huddle without problems, so the tight ball of ponies had spread out significantly. There was no talking and no laughter, only hoofbeats and the quiet sobs of ponies who still hadn’t come to terms with their losses. Even the foals were not in any sort of mood to be active, staying close to their parents and silent. 

        Coal Dust walked drearily along through the darkness, though he had a decent amount of light from a nearby unicorn’s spell to see. Headstrong walked directly in front of him, holding his place on the perimeter and not saying a word. Beside him was Braided Twist, who had found her way over to him not long after their departure. It was an immense relief to see another pony he knew had made it out alive, and having her nearby was a major comfort. As he walked, he kept hearing quiet sniffling noises coming from her direction. It had been going on for some time now, and he finally brought himself to speak to her for the first time since the attack. 

“Are you okay, Braid?” he asked slowly, uncertainly. 

“I’m fine,” she muttered, not looking in his direction. It looked like she wiped at her eyes, but he couldn’t tell for sure in the dim light. “I’m just worried about what those roaches are gonna do to my shop, you know?” 

He uttered a quiet grunt of understanding, but otherwise remained silent. He could tell that she was trying to act normal, but decided to refrain from pressing the issue until she was ready for it. 

“Where do you think we’re going?” she asked.

“Who knows?” Headstrong replied, adding himself into the conversation. “But really, who cares? As long as we get away from those things, I’m fine.” 

Once again, the quiet returned. The somber silence that had prevailed for hours was still not ready to break, and the column of ponies trudged onward. 




        
The forest was silent at an unholy hour of night, save for the hoofbeats of the survivors quietly resonating between the trees. Given that there were in excess of two-thousand ponies in the herd, it was exceptionally quiet. The only sounds were those of hooffalls and of the gentle breeze that was whispering through the bare tree branches. The cloud cover from earlier had begun to disperse, as it naturally tended to do when no pegasi were around to interfere, and the moon was becoming visible high in the night sky. 

Near the front of the column, just inside the protective ring of soldiers, walked the two leaders of the refugees, Nest and Sombra. Neither had spoken in hours, both content as per the majority of the refugees to remain silent and stew in their own thoughts. 

As he trudged along, using his own horn to contribute light spells to the group, Sombra allowed his thoughts to flow freely. The stillness of the dark woods provided a perfect place to gather his wits and try to remember exactly what had happened in the course of the day. He remembered that the morning had been fairly routine, and over the course of about six hours, he had gone from ruling his Empire in peace to being ousted by a barrage aimed directly at the civilian population. 

It was a disgusting and cowardly tactic, one that would classify as a war crime. And yet a part of his mind felt that the Changelings were much more cunning than he originally thought. 

No. There was no way that their barrage was intended to stop the Crystal Ponies from powering the Crystal Heart. Changelings could not have that sort of understanding of the mechanics of harmony magic. It was most certainly an attack with a purely sinister intent: to hit the Empire in their soft spot and directly assault the ponies who lived there; to instill fear and chaos to afford them an easy victory. 

Wishing to rid himself of that thought, he moved on to remembering the final moments of his reign. He had been on the ground, helping to coordinate the preparations to fire the Heart as a weapon. Ponies bustling about, getting ready to defend their homes. Despite the fact that he felt it was lacking in some ways, his speech had somehow instilled a feeling of patriotism amongst them. For the first time in years, he had felt nervous about giving a public address. Ruby Splash had been there to support him—

Ruby Splash. Yet again, his worries fell on the whereabouts of his wife. The guards he sent after her when they left had come back without a trace of her. By that time, the changelings had already taken the city. She was likely still in the Empire, but everything else was uncertain. Was she injured? Had the Changelings found her? 

Was she still alive? 

Panic that had been suppressed for so long was finally beginning to win out. His chest tightened, and he began looking about in a hopeless attempt to find her. He was only met with the sight of a few other distant light spells through the trees, while everything else was black. He needed to go. He needed to do something, some task he could work on to help bring his wife back to his side. He needed-

Sombra shook his head and blinked hard, his light spell faltering in the process. He took a deep breath and allowed his mind to switch back over to rational thought. Running amok in a dark forest with Celestia-knows-what lurking in the shadows would not only turn heads, but  likely cause more chaos and panic. 

She would be fine. If he knew her, she was doing everything she could to locate any other survivors and help them. She would be busying herself in helping those survivors, though there were so many dead in the streets...

Sombra grimaced. His heart began beating faster as his panicked brain began running images of Ruby lying in the street in the Empire, covered in blood and surrounded by Changelings. They were gathered around her body, dancing in bizarre ways and singing some strange ritual song as they celebrated their victory. 

Sombra’s knees buckled as his head suddenly felt like it was filled with helium. Though it was difficult to notice in the dark, his vision clouded over as he faltered. He was halfway to the ground and barely conscious when a heavy hoof caught him around the midsection.

“Get the medic up here!” shouted the guard on his right side as he caught the falling King.

“What happened?!” Nest barked, turning to face the guard. 

“He just fainted, sir,” answered the guard. “Get a medic up here now!” Distant hoofbeats of a galloping pony signalled the medic’s approach. 

“What is it?” the medic asked, pulling the strap on her saddlebags loose as she came to a stop. 

“The King just fainted,” Nest answered, stepping aside. Ponies all around them were stopping and staring at the unfolding scene. 

“Sombra, can you hear me?” she asked, tapping him on the side gently. 

“Unnf,” Sombra breathed. 

“Help me roll him over onto his back,” the nurse instructed, motioning for the guard to help her. 

As Sombra was rolled onto his back, the growing crowd of onlookers was becoming unsettled. Nervous chatter back and forth between them was getting louder by the second, and further chaos would result if they were not put at ease. Nest stepped forward, putting himself between the crowd and Sombra. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” Nest began in as diplomatic of a voice as he could muster, “He’s going to be okay…”  




        Celestia stood on one of the many balconies in the Castle, facing west. She was in the process of guiding the sun over the horizon for the night, a task that she had been in charge of for the past century, ever since Discord’s defeat. Her horn flared as the heavenly body slipped out of view and the horizon turned to the beautiful oranges and violets of twilight. 

        On a balcony nearby, Luna was also performing her duty, raising the moon in the east. With her own work done, Celestia took up watching her sibling. Even from her vantage point, she could see the strain in Luna’s face. Granted, raising the moon was more difficult than lowering it, but she hadn’t shown any difficulty in doing her task before. Celestia turned and exited the balcony, adding a mental note to bring that up with Luna at dinner. 

        Celestia made her way downstairs and through the castle foyer, using the lower passages on her way to the dining hall. Servants were bustling about, guards were doing their duties. The first of the year’s Hearth’s Warming decorations were going up, adding warmth and brightness to the spirit of those inside. It was this time of year that the castle’s vast halls truly seemed alive.

As Celestia walked along, she began to ponder about her younger sister. In the past few weeks, she had seen less and less of her. Often, they only saw each other at breakfast and dinner, and though Celestia never missed attending the dining hall, Luna had curiously been absent more and more often as of late. 

It appeared that she had her topic of conversation lined out for the evening, no matter how unpleasant it may be. 

She passed through the hallway lined with sets of decorative armor, taking note that a few of them were starting to tarnish and would need polishing. A left turn at the end of that hall led her into another, and one more right turn through a large double door deposited her in the dining hall. The servants were putting the finishing touches on the meal itself, with Celestia’s own plate filled with dinner entrees and Luna’s consisting of foods more normally served at breakfast. Since they were on different sleep schedules, their meals were always served this way. 

Celestia thanked the servants as they finished and took her seat in a chair adjacent to the end of the table. Luna was still not to be found, though it was still early in mealtime. Celestia decided that she would go ahead and start without her sister, and began working on her bowl of garden soup. 

The door swung open, and she looked up in hope that Luna had arrived. Instead of the Princess of the Night, a magenta Pegasus in a set of armor belonging to the Crystal Empire came staggering in. He was gasping for breath and looked ready to collapse, but he crossed the room and bowed to the Princess. 

“Your Highness, I bring a letter…” he sucked in a deep breath and produced a roll of parchment from his saddlebag ”...from King Sombra. It is of...extreme urgency.” 

Celestia stood and lifted the scroll from the messenger’s hoof. “Thank you. Would you like to rest a moment?” 

The messenger shook his head and made his way to the door. Celestia nodded to him once more as he exited, the tall oak door closing with a resounding click. With the visitor gone, she took her seat again and flipped the rolled paper open. 

 Dear Princess Celestia, 

I have written to inform you of the situation in the Empire as of today. We have strong reason to believe that the Changeling colony is planning an attack. According to the testimony of one of our soldiers, the patrol he was leading last night encountered Changelings in our lands, and three of his command did not return. 

This looks to be a major problem, but only one tangible piece of evidence exists to validate this threat. The Crystal Empire will not take full-scale action until more conclusive evidence can be procured. I do, however, ask that you be ready to provide military assistance should things make a turn for the worst. 

I await your response. 


                                                                Sincerely, 


                                                               King Sombra


Celestia lowered the scroll and tucked it neatly beneath her wing, simultaneously taking one last bite of her soup and rising from her seat. She hadn’t been overly hungry to begin with, and she could opt to eat a light snack before she retired for the evening instead. Before she could leave the table, though, the door opened again. Luna came walking into the room, her expression blank. 

“Luna, so good to see you,” Celestia greeted, offering a smile. 

Luna’s expression softened a bit at the sight of her sister, “Hello, dear sister.” She crossed the room and took a seat at her place setting. Celestia moved to sit down, but the feeling of the paper beneath her wing reminded her of her business. 

“I apologize, Luna, but I am afraid I have to excuse myself. There is an urgent matter that I must attend to.” 

“I understand. Will we see you later?” Luna asked. 

“Likely not. I bid you goodnight, sister.” Celestia left the table and pushed her chair back in as she walked to the doors. 

“Sleep well,” Luna said quietly. She sat in silence while Celestia crossed the room, staring at her omelette in front of her. The tall, heavy oak door creaked open, and boomed closed a moment later . With Celestia out of the room, she raised a hoof towards her food, and smashed it down with enough force to send a fork flying from the table until she caught it in her magic. Yet again, she would eat her meal alone. 
        




Sombra awoke to find that he was laying on his back with a mare patting a damp rag over his head and a royal guard holding his legs up. It was still pitch black, and the ground beneath him felt crunchy, like dry leaves. His head was pounding with the intensity of a blacksmith’s forge, and what little bit of his surroundings he could see in the dark seemed to be spinning slowly. To his left, he could hear Nest giving a speech of some kind. 

“What happened?” he groaned, moving a foreleg to wipe at his face. 

“You’re fine,” the mare answered, rubbing the cool rag behind his ears. “Just take it easy.” 

Sombra turned his head to the side and looked over to where he could hear the Commander. In front of him, there stood a larger group of ponies. Many were trying to look past Nest and catch a glimpse of him. 

“I do not have time to take it easy,” Sombra grumbled, shaking off the guard’s grip and rolling upright. He fumbled a bit as he tried to stand, but managed to get himself up with the support of the adjacent tree.

“Slow down, your Highness! You’ll only hurt yourself if you don’t take it slow,” the nurse chided. After a few seconds of standing, Sombra felt his head go light again and his vision go dark. He stumbled over to the adjacent tree and used it to lean on while he let the headrush pass. 

“I am fine,” he assured, rubbing his eyes instinctively to clear them of the blackness. “How long was I unconscious?” 

“Only a couple of minutes, sir,” the guard answered, standing up and placing his helmet back on his head. “Do you need help?” 

        “No,” Sombra answered. His vision was coming back and his ears had stopped ringing, and he let himself stand on all four hooves again. He noticed that Nest had stopped talking and was walking back towards him. 

“Are you okay, your Highness?” he asked.

        “Yes, I am fine. Shall we get mov—”

        A bone-chilling scream rang out, bringing silence back to the wood in its wake. 





        Coal Dust reared up on his hind legs in a vain attempt to see what had happened. For some reason, the entire group had stopped. No warnings, no orders. Suddenly the whole mass of more than two-thousand ponies had come to a halt. It was puzzling, and not knowing was beginning to get under his skin. He fell back to the ground and huffed a breath of frustration.

        “Can you see anything, Headstrong?” he asked. 

        “Will you relax?” Headstrong answered in annoyance, having been asked the same question three times already. 

        “This is just weird though. I mean why would we just stop out of nowhere?” 

        “I think you’re overthinking it, Dusty,” commented Braid from the ground. She had taken full advantage of the stop by laying down to rest her hooves, as had a number of others. 

        Coal Dust dropped back down to all fours, again breathing out in annoyance. “Maybe you’re right. I’m probably just being paranoid.” 

        “About time,” quipped a blue unicorn soldier standing just behind the trio. “I never thought he’d shut his mouth.” 

        “Alright, you want me to come back there and shut yours for you?” Coal Dust snapped, turning towards him.

        “Bring it on, shiny boy,” the unicorn taunted, motioning aggressively with his hooves.  

        “Stop!” Braid shouted, jumping in Coal Dust’s path while Headstrong grabbed him on the withers and held him fast. “Don’t let him get to you, Dusty.” 

        “What is your marefriend gonna fight for you, you damned pansy?”

        “That’s it!” Coal Dust shouted, nudging Braided Twist aside and lunging forward at the unicorn. He ran like a cheetah chasing a gazelle, anticipating the satisfying feeling of driving a hoof into his adversary’s face. At the last moment, he launched himself through the air and caught Vector around the withers in a heavy tackle. 

        As soon as they hit the ground, the unicorn was throwing punches. He hit as fast as he could manage, landing several blows on Coal Dust’s head before he could react. Coal Dust rolled off of him to get out of the way of the punches. In that moment, he had an opening. As the unicorn was scrambling to get upright, he found himself bowled over yet again by a blur of violet. 

        Coal Dust enjoyed the feeling of knocking the unicorn flat, maintaining a satisfied grin as he smacked into the ground after the second tackle. In a flash, he was back on his hooves and ready to go in again, this time making more use of his hooves. He managed a single step forward before something wrapped around his belly and yanked him backwards and to the ground. A leg caught him in a headlock and he glanced up to notice that Headstrong had him pinned. The unicorn was being taken care of similarly by another soldier. 

        “Enough!” Headstrong shouted. 

Coal Dust struggled a bit under the weight of his friend, but he was immobilized. Every time he pushed, the weight seemed to crush him down harder. 

“Let me go!” he yelled back, his words coming out muffled because his muzzle was pressed into the lichens on the ground. 

“I’m gonna let you up in twenty seconds. You can either drop this now or you can go back in and keep fighting.” Coal Dust grinned at the thought that he was about to be turned loose on the unicorn.  

“Just remember; if you start again, you’ll be fighting me this time.” 

The grin vanished, and he stopped struggling all together. As much as he wanted to go tear the other soldier limb from limb, the prospect of having Headstrong, the biggest pony he knew, come after him, was enough to kill the desire. 

The remaining fifteen seconds passed in silence, the drawn crowd of ponies looking on eagerly to see what would happen next. A hushed whisper of excitement was all that could be heard besides the eerie whistling of the wind through the bare tree branches overhead. When Headstrong finally relaxed his grip and climbed off of Coal Dust, they were met with a slight disappointment when Dust turned away from the unicorn and walked away. The gathered ponies began to disperse immediately once the fight was over. Two ponies walked out of the way ahead of him, revealing Braid from behind themselves. 

Her stare of disbelief was enough to make Coal Dust regret everything he had just done. Her mouth hung open ever so slightly, and her piercing look of disappointment made it difficult to make eye contact. 

“Braid,” Coal Dust began, hanging his head and looking at the ground. 

“Don’t even start.” 

He looked up in time to catch the last glimpse of her tail as she disappeared into the mass of ponies. 

“Way to go, Dust,” commented Headstrong. 

“Shut up,” Dust returned, walking back to the outside edge of the group; in the opposite direction that Braid had gone. This was a time to brood, and being in the middle of a group of thousands was not the place to do it. 





Unbeknownst to the ponies, something had been watching them for the last several hours. It lurked in the trees, keeping a cautious distance as it followed the massive herd before it. Darkness kept it concealed, and it treaded the earth on silent steps, careful not to reveal itself until the perfect moment. It would have all night to wait until opportunity knocked. 

And now, that opportunity had presented itself. Behind a bush less than thirty feet from the edge of the herd, it sat in a crouch, ready to spring forward. The clinking of wooden parts accompanied its every breath, and it flicked an ethereal tongue across its lips in anticipation. The herd had stopped, a fight had broken out, and a large part of the group was distracted. 

Opportunity had finally rapped at the door. 

As it crouched lower, it could sense others of its kind nearby. The others had gathered for this potential feast, and through a magical connection with its brethren, it could tell that they were poised to strike as well. Like a powder keg, all it would take to set everything in motion was a single spark. 

A distant scream pierced the air. The spark was there. With a huff, it launched itself forward, towards its waiting prize. 




 
The wall of ponies in Coal Dust‘s path was proving quite the challenge to maneuver through. He would manage to slip past one, but then another blocked his route immediately after. Times like this were when he wished he was big like Headstrong, so he could go where he needed to go without worrying about crowds. However much he wanted it, he was not the equine wrecking ball that his friend was. 

He was finally nearing the edge of the crowd, after a considerable amount of work. He had been on the outside edge throughout the night, but the fight had brought the crowd to envelop him in their attempts to get a view of the action. A few more steps and he would be free to disappear from the herd and their disappointed looks. 

“AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!!!”

Coal dust stopped cold, a mere three steps from his goal. The whole crowd hushed from their quiet din to deathly quiet in an instant, several crouching down and looking to the sky, terror in their eyes. 

“Kill it! Whatever it is, kill it!” The distant voice of a shouting stallion followed the scream. Whispers began circulating; few at first, many after a few seconds. The whispers built on each other, quickly elevating to a low roar of voices asking questions. 

Above the din, a long, loud howl sounded from the dark woods. The wolf’s howl again snuffed all sound in the forest, commanding absolute silence. 

Coal Dust was one of the first to move after the howl subsided. The years he’d spent in the military had taught him to recognize a threat when he saw one. The dark woods, a herd of ponies with limited defensive capabilities, the sudden commotion, and the howl were all indicators that something was getting ready to attack. He glanced around himself, noting that the guards were reluctant to get back into position and stand against the threat. 

“Get up! All soldiers up! Defensive perimeter!” His sentences were choppy, his mind racing too fast to put much thought into his speech. The soldiers began rising and readying themselves, drawing swords and putting their helmets back on their heads. 

Out of the woods came a heavy thudding, similar to sprinting footsteps, but starkly different. 

“Look out!” came a shout from a nearby mare. Out of the woods came two neon green dots, rushing forward at breakneck speed. Before anyone had a chance to react, they were upon the herd. Shouts of distress came from where they entered, also a number of loud growls punctuated by a loud yelp. Seeing that he was the impromptu leader at the moment, Coal Dust took the liberty of running straight to the scene of the attack. He stepped out and ran around the outside of the perimeter, galloping as fast as he could manage. 

When he arrived, he found a scene of chaos unfolding. It was about the same place he had been when the fight broke, the obvious place to attack since it had the greatest number of targets available. Now that whatever it was had made its attempt, the ponies behind the defense were scrambling in a panic to get away. A small empty space had opened up around the point of impact, Headstrong’s large silhouette immediately recognizable. Another pony was lying on the ground in the center of the opening, and two others also standing around. 

There was no sign of the attacker. 

Coal Dust approached cautiously, still unsure of exactly what he was seeing. “What happened here?” he asked. Now that he was close to the scene, he could make out that the pony on the ground was injured in some way, and one of the soldiers was shouting for a medic. The metallic smell of blood wafted through the air, accompanied by a hint of…rotten eggs? 

“I’ve never seen anything like it, Dust,” Headstrong answered, beside himself. “It was like a dog, but it wasn’t a dog.” 

“What? What’s going on?” 

“Medic!”

“It was a wolf. Made of wood.” 

“You’re kidding,” answered Coal Dust, in disbelief. 

“The damn thing came like a lightning bolt and took Vector down. Just tackled him and started tearing him up. I hit it with my sword, and then it just fell apart.” Headstrong finally afforded a glance in Dust’s direction. 

Coal Dust moved in closer, finally getting a good view of Vector. The unicorn’s blue fur was stained with crimson in more places than it wasn’t. A number of gashes and punctures were seeping more blood every second. He was limp, eyes closed and gasping weakly for breath. 

        The same pony he had fought moments before. 

        “Where’s that damn medic?!” The accompanying pony’s shouts for help were increasingly desperate. “Either of you got something we can use for a tourniquet? We can at least stop the bleeding from his leg.” 

        “I’ve got a rag in my saddlebags,” Headstrong answered, reaching his head back and undoing the strap with his teeth. The bags fell to the ground with a dull thump. “Hey Dust, look through this one and see if the rag’s there.” 

        “Sure.” Coal Dust began rummaging through the bag, using his wingtips to sort through the jumbled mess of items inside. 

        With everypony heavily distracted, the faint green glow rising from the piles of sticks around them went unnoticed. 

        “I can’t see anything in here without light,” Coal Dust commented. 

        “Hang on, I have some matches in my bags.” 

        The sticks pulsed with energy, making them float above the ground by mere millimeters. 

        “Hang on a second,” Headstrong reassured, sticking his muzzle into the bag and feeling with his nose. “I know I just had them.” 

        The sticks began to roll across the ground, slowly but surely working their way across the ground under the cover of darkness. 

        “Hurry up with that rag, he’s losing a lot of blood here,” warned the soldier. 

        The sticks were floating along quickly now, passing carefully around the ponies view and never bumping against them. They began to congregate at a point a few yards behind the small gathering. 

        “There they are!” Headstrong announced triumphantly, pulling out a book of matches that looked comically small in his teeth. 

        “Good, pass ‘em here,” Coal Dust said, reaching a wing over to grab the matchbook. 

        The sticks rose up at the meeting point, each taking its own carefully designated place. The form of a canine was beginning to take shape. 

        “Here we go,” Coal Dust said to himself as he pulled a match from the book and gripped it against the striker strip. With a firm pull, he set it ablaze, bathing the immediate area with dim light. 

        A pair of piercing green eyes opened behind him. 

        “Behind you!” Headstrong shouted. 

        “Wha-OOF” Coal Dust began before Headstrong caught him in a tackle. The match fell from his grip and into the leaf litter below, and a mere second separated him from being set upon by the newly formed wolf, which went sailing past as it attempted to bring itself to a stop. The two ponies tumbled to the ground and watched as the wolf, instead of stopping, switched targets. With a slight realignment, it went crashing into the pony standing over Vector. He did not see what hit him, and was launched forward by the sudden impact. 
        
        Before Coal Dust and Headstrong could get back up, the wolf was on Vector again, this time seizing him around the neck. The wooden wolf began tugging at the lifeless pony, dragging him across the ground. 

        Headstrong was the first back up, and his first move was to charge the wolf. The wolf, recognizing this tactic from the first time it had been defeated, released Vector long enough to sidestep the bodycheck. 

        “Whoa!” Headstrong exclaimed as he sailed past the wolf. His hooves caught as he tried to stop, and he went tumbling to the ground. 

        Coal Dust sat up, still dazed from the heavy tackle he had received. Before his still-dizzy eyes, he saw the wolf’s silhouette as it dragged the pony away. Another set of green eyes appeared in the woods and approached, stopping alongside the first wolf and, though Coal dust could barely see it, took up a place to help drag the pony deeper into the woods. 

        He turned his head and looked in the opposite direction. The civilians had vanished, though he could still hear their frantic hoofbeats as they fled the scene of the attack. 

        “Come back here you useless piles of kindling!” Headstrong’s distinctive shout echoed in the trees. His white fur made him easy to spot in the darkness, and it appeared that he was limping badly on his front hoof. Despite the injury, he was still determined to give chase to the predators. 

        “Headstrong!” shouted Coal Dust. “He’s gone! Don’t get yourself killed too!” 

        “You saw how easy they are to kill! I could take all of them!” Headstrong bellowed, the anguish in his voice becoming more apparent. 

        Coal Dust rose from the ground, his back stiff from the tackle. “There’s more out there than you could handle. Don’t get yourself turned into dog food.” 

        “That’s a big steaming pile of crap and you know it!” Headstrong’s shout lessened a bit at the end, the acceptance that he was defeated dawning on him. “We can still fight. We can still save him—” 

        As if on cue, a wolf’s howl rose from the trees just beyond view. First one, then two, then five, then a dozen low, long, canine voices formed a chorus. The howls came from all around, some distant and some so close that they could still smell the rotten stench of their breath. The wolves’ call was not that of normal wolves, though; it carried some indescribable, ethereal aspect on it, the type that specifically worked to instill fear in the hearts of any who heard it. 

        Headstrong looked at Coal Dust for a moment while the howls rose to fill the night with dread, then promptly turned and took off in a gallop towards where the herd had run. Coal Dust was hot on his heels, ready to get back to the safety of the herd’s numbers. 

The wolves would not give chase. 

> Chapter nine: Evergreen
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Voices. 

Gust perked his ears, swiveling them back and forth feverishly. It must have been hours since the barrage, and somehow he hadn’t broken down into a sobbing mess on the floor during that time. His mind was in turmoil; a chaotic mess of sporadic, rambling thoughts. Where was everyone? Had the Changelings won? Where were the hospital staff? Were there Changelings invading the city? 

His breath quickly went from slow, even breaths to rapid, tense gasps. It felt like he was locked in a solitary ward in an asylum, alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company. He shifted on the bed several times, trying to figure out just how mobile he was. Though the lower half of his body felt fine, his forelegs could barely move without an intense stinging pain shooting through them. His head was throbbing, and he could only wish to see with the heavy bandages covering a large part of his head. He thanked his lucky stars that he still had full use of his ears, despite a spot near the base of his left ear that kept stinging when he moved it. 

The voices had stopped, leaving eerie silence in their wake. For a moment, he considered calling out to them, but quickly suppressed the idea with fears that the Changelings would kill him if they found him—

When they found him. He sighed, relaxing his head. Even if he could find a way out of this hospital, once he was outside, he would be at the mercy of the bugs. He couldn’t even get up, let alone walk or fight. Here in this hospital bed, he had no chance. The Changelings would discover him, and he would be killed… no, he would be publicly executed as a sick kind of sport for the monsters. 

He wanted to cry, to scream with rage at his inevitable fate, but that one little part of him that hadn’t resigned itself to doom was doing its best to help him lay low. Perhaps he would remain unnoticed if a quick counterattack repelled the Changelings. Maybe they were even being driven out right then, for all he knew. 

But he did know. There was no thunder of battle coming from what must have been a massive hole in the roof. There weren’t even any birds chirping outside, only stifling silence in place of what was once the din of a bustling city. 

At the end of the hallway, the doors to the recovery ward opened forcefully. Gust instinctively tried to sink back into his bed, but was stuck in place. A set of hoofsteps entered the corridor, followed by another. Two more followed them, and more kept coming until he couldn’t pick out one from another. However, these steps didn’t have the same hollow sound of a pony’s hoof on the hard tile floor. They were more like dull knocks; a set of four wooden shafts striking the floor in rhythm with one another. 

For the first time in his life, Gust was scared enough to tremble. He clutched at the blanket as best he could through the pain in his forelegs, but barely managed to move it up past his waist before he couldn’t take any more. He bit his tongue, trying to hold in the gasp of pain as best he could. 

The steps fanned out, some walking out of earshot and others seeming to meander around at the door they came in. Three distinct sets of hooves were growing closer, the Changelings they belonged to coming down the row. He could only hope that his curtain was closed, otherwise he was as good as dead. Two of them passed directly in front of his bed, both continuing on ahead like they hadn’t noticed him. They were conversing back and forth in a low voice, such that he couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying. A moment later came the sound of rubble being shifted farther down the way. They were inspecting the hole. A drawer opened across the hall, followed by some papers being rustled around. One of the three Changelings had stopped at the adjacent nurses’ station, and was rifling through whatever files were contained within. He probably wouldn’t find much, considering that there weren’t any high-profile ponies in the recovery ward. 

The drawer slammed closed, and the Changeling left the nurse station, following the other two down the hallway. Gust breathed a momentary sigh of relief, until he remembered that there were wires connected to his chest. He had learned to ignore the beeping of the heart monitor so well that he hadn’t even realized that it was still going. The machine started beeping faster, the lines crossing it growing tighter together as he began to panic. It was going to be a dead giveaway. Instinctively, he reached down to pull the sensors from himself, only to stop short. If he removed the wires, it would trigger an alarm. Then he would definitely be found. Mentally swearing, he pulled his hoof back, all the while praying that the machine intended to help him live wouldn’t spell his doom. 

For agonizing minutes that felt like hours, he listened to the creatures outside. The three at the hole must have flown up to the roof, because he heard muffled thumps coming from above at one point. The occasional Changeling would walk by every so often, not paying him any mind as they went about whatever business they were up to. After a while, things seemed to slow down. Fewer voices could be heard going in the ward, and fewer and fewer changelings were passing by. It almost seemed to be returning to the way it had been immediately after the shelling. 

At last, it was quiet again, save for the incessant beeping of the heart monitor. The Changelings had moved on, apparently, and Gust breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they had moved on from the Empire for the most part, pushing further along to chase the fleeing Equestrians. Given a little time, he just might have been able to get up and find his way out to a safer place. Heck, he might even survive this if he played his cards right. Slowly, he began to relax. In a few days, this whole mess would be over. 

Shhhhhhhhing! 

The curtain flew open, and Gust’s little moment of peace was shattered by a quick succession of taps rushing to his side. 





“Ready? Pull!” shouted Gravel Presser, throwing a hoof up in a signal. At his command, a nearby team of ponies tugged at the ropes they held in their mouths. The thick tree that the rope was tied to groaned in response to the strain. It didn’t want to give up the fight so easily, the wood popping in protest at the notch cut in its base. It wasn’t long before the pulling team started to run out of steam, and the strain evident in their expressions told Gravel that they wouldn’t hold up much longer. 

The tree was starting to take the upper hoof, but the burly gray Earth pony wasn’t going to give it up so easily. He crossed to the other side of the tree trunk and aligned his rear hooves with the direction the tree was supposed to fall. With a shout of exertion, he rammed the buck home just above the notched-out portion of the trunk. 

The tree popped loudly, the solid kick weakening what resistance it had left. Another forceful buck followed immediately after, and the tree leaned past the tipping point. The ropes in the ponies’ mouths went slack, and the call of “Timber!” went out. The tree fell fast, crashing through the canopy of the surrounding thicket with forceful rustling and snapping. When it hit the forest floor, the ground shook, though the massive trunk only gave a muted thump as it hit the soft earth below.
 
“Good work!” Gravel shouted, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Lunchtime! We’ll get the log after food.” The pull team relaxed at his word, stretching out their stiff limbs. The sun was nearly directly overhead, and the team was still not quite up to speed yet. The first tree of the day had been a real pain in the flank to take down, and the tired crew didn't help matters. Gravel Presser picked up his axe and drove it into the stump of the fallen tree before he trotted off in search of food. 

A short distance away was the logging camp. Well, it was starting to grow past the confines of that term and into that of a town. Just last month, a small general store had opened up along the dirt path that connected the isolated camp to the outside world. Along with it came two houses for the store owner and his family. Soon after, more and more lumberjacks began to filter in. The population had grown enough in the last month that an official name was decided upon for the upstart community:

Evergreen. 

And so, Gravel Presser trotted back towards the town of Evergreen. The logging company provided hot meals for the workers, but with the addition of the store, more and more ponies were bypassing the supplied rations in favor of whatever goods the shopkeeper had in store for them. Everypony had a good number of bits on hoof, given that there wasn’t anyplace nearby to spend them, so the store often had trouble keeping itself stocked. Two wagons filled with supplies came in each week, and that was becoming insufficient to keep everypony supplied. 

Gravel, however, wasn’t a regular at the store. He was content to save his bits for a rainy day and make do with whatever the camp cook was serving. After three months at the camp, he was now sitting on a rather large pile of bits. Perhaps he could send it off to help his family out like so many other workers were doing, or he could hold onto it for himself. There was still time to decide what to do with his earnings, so he instead chose to dwell on what was being served at the chow line today. 

In the front of the flop house, as it was called, a small metal building was set up to serve meals to the loggers. The cook, a middle-aged unicorn by the name of Rivulet, stood in the large cut-out window, busying herself over a large steaming pot. 

“What’s the grub for today, River Bottom?” Gravel asked teasingly as he trotted up to the line. 

“Hello, Gravel Presser. It is nice day, no?” Rivulet asked, her Stalliongrad accent showing through as she rolled the R’s in Gravel’s name. A second later a wooden spoon held in a violet aura whapped across his muzzle. “What have I told you about using that name?” 

“Ow! Hey!” Gravel yelped, wiping at where the utensil smacked him. “I was just joking, you know me Rivulet.” 

“Of course, and you know me that I do not care for jokes.” She rinsed the spoon in a pail of water on her little countertop before dropping it back into the steaming pot. “Back in Stalliongrad, males always respectful of females. It is courteous.” 

“A no-nonsense mare from a no-nonsense town. That’s why I like you so much, you know that?” 

“Please, you will make me blush. We are having potato stew today, your favorite.” Rivulet stirred the pot with gusto before dropping the spoon back into the pail. “Come and get it when you want.” 

“Looks good!” Gravel said with enthusiasm, grabbing a bowl from the stack at the start of the line and a spoon. Rivulet produced a ladle and scooped a generous portion of the potato soup into his bowl. Given her situation, the violet mare could cook extremely well. Such a limited kitchen couldn’t do much besides churn out greasy spoon foods, but she managed to add her own touches to the dishes she made. “Thanks, Rivet!” 

“I will break the spoon over your head next time you say my name badly, Gravel Presser!” she warned, a half smile on her face. Slowly but surely, Gravel was starting to wear down her hard-shelled exterior. He managed to get her smiling on a daily basis now, a far cry from her persistent scowl that dominated her features when she first arrived at Evergreen. 

Whistling happily and carrying his food on his back, Gravel decided to hike back up to the jobsite and eat his meal by the recently-felled tree. He crossed the wide field of stumps where the forest had been cleared, making note of the new growth on several of the old fallen trees. Perhaps they would make it through the winter, perhaps not. In a century, there might not even be any trace of the logging operation at all. 

A growl from his stomach interrupted his train of thought. He pressed on a bit harder, anxious to sit down at his spot and enjoy his meal. He arrived at the fallen tree a moment later and first placed his bowl on top of the fallen trunk. He removed his hard hat and loosened his tool belt, flopping down on the soft grass without a care in the world other than his potato stew. 

Once settled, he retrieved his food and placed it on his lap. After a long morning of fighting the trees, the aroma was mouthwatering. He didn’t hesitate to dive into the stew. The buttery goodness of the potatoes mixed with various vegetables made him hum his approval of the stew almost involuntarily. As he mulled over his food, he leaned his head back and stared up at the sky. A few fair-weather clouds drifted lazily overhead, standing out strikingly against their bright blue backdrop. The scent of the pine trees wafted out on the gentle breeze from the forest behind him, and the sound of birds singing in the trees nearby coupled with the faint crying of a foal brought the scene—

Crying foals? Gravel snapped his head to attention, swiveling his ears to try to pinpoint the source of the distressed infant. He looked left, back towards the town, and right, out into the woods nearby. The sound seemed to be coming from the trees. 

He rose from his sitting position and tightened his tool belt. Crying foals didn't just happen along out in the remote woods. Something was up. There could have been something attacking the foals, or perhaps something was mimicking a foal to lure in prey. Either way, a weapon was a must-have. Looking over, he remembered his axe in the tree stump. He grabbed the handle in his teeth and ripped it free from the wood, breaking into a full gallop as he did so. The stallion thundered along the tree line for a short distance before he cut into the forest. He kept his axe at the ready, preparing himself for what he might find just ahead. 

He dodged in between trees and rocks, making sure to slow his pace so as not to trip with an axe in his mouth. The sound of crying was growing nearer, and it was starting to echo through the trees as the volume increased with proximity. As he neared it, he heard a mix of adult voices— some female, some male —and a constant din of hoofsteps under the piercing wails of the foal. He stopped and hid behind a tree when he was a few mere yards away from the crowd of ponies, and cautiously peeked out from behind the trunk to get his first glimpse of the unknown group in the forest. 

What he saw nearly made him sick. 





“Wow.” Cochylis stood still at the border that separated the snow from the green grass of the Crystal Empire.

He had seen illustrations of the crystal city numerous times throughout his training. It was always described as a shining beacon of crystal that was visible for many miles around. It was said that the giant spire in the center, the Palace, reflected the sun’s rays in prismatic fashion, sending a rainbow of color radiating out from all sides. In addition to that, there was said to be a constant stream of love-based magic flowing from the tip of the spire so potent that one small pull from it would be enough to feed a drone for a month. 

Only now that he had arrived at the greatest source of food known to Changelings, he realized that it was a far cry from what it was cracked up to be. There was no stream of love magic radiating from the Palace. There was no such prismatic reflection. There was only the taint of black smoke rising from the city after the artillery had struck, and the sickening smell that it carried on the wind. 

“It’s a lot smaller than I imagined it,” Ips said, snapping Coch’s attention away from the Empire. 

“And a lot less colorful,” added Cochylis. 

“Yeah. Let’s get moving. Sleeping space is first come, first serve you know!” With that, Ips trotted forward, crossing the distinct line where the old weather spell used to be and entering the grassy lot of land on the outer edge of the city. Cochylis followed behind him, keeping his eyes on the pillars of smoke that continued rising above the rooftops. 

He found it strange, now that he thought of it. There hadn’t been a large field of dead soldiers outside the city like he expected, but then again he wasn’t there to see the actual battle happen. He had expected several thousand ponies to fight against, yet there were probably no more than fifty dead by his estimate. Had they really turned tail and ran so quickly? Surely there was more morale in the Equestrians than that. 

But that also didn’t add up. The artillery strikes were supposed to be aimed at the battlefield, and they had checked the trajectory three times before the barrage started. Yet, there were no craters on the ground in the snowy battlefield, so that meant…

The artillery strike was never intended for the soldiers. 

He hadn’t considered it before, but now it all made sense. As he and Ips found their way into one of the streets, he saw the extent of what he had done. 

There were bodies everywhere. Bodies of ponies who hadn’t seen what killed them coming. Mares and stallions alike lay dead in the streets, spread sporadically amongst numerous craters from the spellfire barrage. Few buildings were undamaged, all bearing black soot marks or missing large chunks after being hit by a spell. A few of them were still engulfed in flames, but there were already teams of drones working to get the blaze under control. Cochylis looked on wide-eyed, observing the massive carnage before him. 

“Ips?” he asked, staring unblinkingly at the death and destruction in the road. 

“Yeah?” 

“Weren’t we shooting at the Equestrian Army?” 

“That’s what I thought.” Ips answered, glancing around the scene nonchalantly, never stopping to look in one place for too long. 

“Did we miss?” Cochylis asked, finally breaking his fixation on the street and looking at Ips. 

“I guess so,” Ips replied, beginning to walk forward once more. “We still did the job though. I mean, we’re here aren’t we?” 

“I suppose.” The two drones pressed forward down the sidewalk, passing more and more Changelings with each step as the city was filled with the chitinous mob. They walked on in silence, slowly nearing the Palace at the city center as they picked their way around Changelings and dead ponies alike. After a minute or two, Cochylis broke the silence again.

“We’re on the northwest side of the Empire. I bet if we hurried over to the southeast portion, we could find a good place to hole up before everyone else gets there.” 

“I like the way you think!” Ips replied, preparing to break into a gallop. However, he stopped instead, turning to face his partner. “I have a better idea. You didn’t use up all your magic on the artillery pieces, so you fly ahead and get a good spot. Then come back here and get me.” 

“Good plan,” Cochylis replied, buzzing his wings in preparation. “You’ll be right here, right?” 

“I’ll be around here. There’s gotta be something to do while I wait.” 

“Okay. I’ll be back before long,” Cochylis said before putting a little extra oompf into his flapping and taking to the air. He rose above the roofline and started forward, heading to the southeast. Once he had attained a good cruising speed, he looked down and took in the sight of the Crystal Empire’s fate below. 

As far as he could see, there wasn’t a single street in the city that wasn’t littered with bodies and craters. The extent of the damage was catastrophic, and spread quite uniformly over the entirety of the Empire. A number of buildings were still on fire, and there were even blast scars on the palace itself. Cochylis forced himself to look away from the eerie calm of the city below, the sight of so much death and destruction proving too much to bear all at once. 

As he passed the Castle and entered the sky above the southeastern portion of the city, he began looking down again. This time, he was on the lookout for a suitable building to shack up in. Some drones had the same idea as him apparently, but this side of the Empire was much quieter than the northwestern quarter. Much more calm and untouched in the wake of the attack. That would be changing very soon as more Changelings poured into the city. 

After scanning the numerous damaged houses around the place, his gaze settled on the largest building in the area besides the castle. The large red cross on the front of it showed that it was a hospital. 

Hospitals had tons of rooms. 

Cochylis gauged the distance and adjusted his flight path accordingly, swooping down and skidding to a halt on the road just in front of the hospital’s main entrance. He buzzed his wings one final time before folding them to his sides, and he quickly ducked inside the atrium. 

Pony medical facilities were certainly a lot different than Changeling ones. This hospital looked to be an actually inviting place, unlike the quite contrary Changeling version that was often referred to as the Ministry of Death. He read through a sign on the wall that pointed the directions to the numerous departments, but the one he was after was the recovery ward. From what little he understood about these facilities, the recovery ward was where he could find bedspaces. He had always wanted to try sleeping on a Pony bed, so he followed the instructions on the sign and made his way down the hallway past the front desk. 

He snaked his way down several hallways, turning left then right, climbing a staircase, another right then left again. As he rounded the next corner, he could hear some commotion coming from up ahead. One final right turn and he found what he had been looking for: A large double-door with ‘Recovery’ painted in bold black lettering above the doorframe. Hesitantly, he eased the door open and stuck his head in. Daylight was streaming in through a large hole at the back of the room, and several Changelings were already inside. Two were at the hole, climbing over the pile of rubble, and four more were milling about the place, seemingly doing the same thing that Cochylis was there to do. 

He stepped into the room, slipping through the doorway and letting the door close quietly behind him. The other Changelings didn’t take much notice of him as he entered, only sparing a glance in his direction before going back to what they were doing. One, that was lying on a bed near the door, muttered a greeting, which Cochylis returned with a passing nod. As the other drone had done, the first thing Cochylis did was to go to an empty bedspace and flop down on the mattress. 

The moment he hit the mattress was the moment that he knew comfort for the first time in his life. It felt like sitting on a cloud, even though Changelings had no natural ability to control the weather and therefore had no idea how soft an actual cloud was. Rather, if there was anything that compared to what he thought clouds felt like, this mattress was it. He rolled around on the soft cushion, enjoying the way the bedsheets felt against his chitin. At one point, his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he lost his composure to the heavenly mattress. 

After a few minutes of rolling about like a grub, he hesitantly flopped out of the bed, landing shakily on all fours. There was a dull soreness in his hooves, one that he hadn’t noticed until the short rest brought it to his attention. He blinked hard a couple of times as he straightened his posture, a light headrush clouding his mind for a moment. Much more groggily than he had before, Cochylis stepped back out into the hallway. He let out a yawn as he started for the door, but he stopped after a few steps when two new drones entered the room. 

Would the spots still be there by the time he got back? Not wanting to take chances, he reversed himself and made for the small group that was milling about down by a central desk. Perhaps one of them could reserve his place for him. As he approached, he noticed something peculiar in front of the desk. Each bedspace was separated by a divider curtain, and all of the empty ones were left open on the front side. 

The bed in front of the desk had its curtain closed. 

It was surely nothing, he decided. Nothing worth investigating, at any rate. He pushed the thought from his mind and focused his attention forward once more. The other Changelings had disappeared down the connecting lane that joined the two rows of beds in the ward, and he went to follow them.

A rustle from behind stopped him dead in his tracks. He stayed frozen in place, ears cocked back to listen, not turning his head to look. It was dead silent for several moments, so he turned to face where the noise had come from. 

The closed room. It had to be coming from there. His curiosity piqued, Cochylis crept back over to the curtain, training his ears to listen into the bedspace. He stopped just outside of the curtain, and the quiet beeping of a heart monitor could be heard coming from within. He took a breath and steeled himself. There was probably a pony in there poised to kill whatever came through first, so he readied a shield spell just in case. 

Three. 

Two.

One.

With a quick pull, he slid the curtain open and stepped into the small room, summoning his shield spell as he entered and crossed to the bedside in a defensive crouch. He pulled the dagger strapped to his thigh, ready to use it to neutralize the threat. 

One look at the bed was enough to make him sheath the dagger and lower his defenses. Instead of a pony sitting at the ready to go out in a blaze of glory, the bed held what looked to be a male pony with the upper half of his body completely wrapped in bandages, the only opening being for his nose and mouth. Even his eyes were covered in wrappings, making him resemble a mummy. 

And to top it all off, he was shivering like a scared foal. 

Cochylis wrapped his magic around the handle of his dagger again on instinct, the countless hours of training to either kill or feed off of ponies at whatever opportunity trying to kick in. Yet, as he looked at the injured stallion on the bed, a strange sense of pity came over him. The pony probably had no idea what was going on around him, helpless as a newborn grub. He released his grip on the knife again and inched closer to the bedside. 

“Screw you, you damned bug.” 

Cochylis reared back in surprise and ripped the dagger from the hilt, raising it above the stallion in preparation to attack. However, before he could plunge the knife into the pony’s exposed chest, the pity in his stomach returned with a vengeance. Killing a pony for a reason was not something that he considered himself above doing, considering that he had done so just the previous evening. A pony who couldn’t defend himself, now that was a different story…

...right? From what he had always been told, ponies would always kill or imprison Changelings whenever possible. The two races were mortal enemies of each other. Even though they made for an excellent food source, there was a big risk involved when dealing with Equines. 

What was stopping him from finishing what had already been started by something else, though? This pony wouldn’t last more than a few more minutes here anyway, given that the hospital was due to be overrun with drones in no time at all. As surely as he was to be discovered, he was going to be killed. He might as well do it now and get it over with. One less thing to worry about, after all. He raised the knife again, holding it up to the pony’s chest and touching the tip to the tan fur. The pony twitched when he felt the blade, and his breathing increased sharply as he tensed for his execution. 

Execution. Images of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of dead ponies in the streets outside filled Cochylis’s mind. There had been so much carnage, so much loss of innocent life today. Lives that may as well have been snuffed out by his own two hooves. 

He had been responsible for enough death for one day. He retracted the blade again, sheathing it again as he returned to the bedside. The helpless stallion moved just a bit, deflating as he realized that there was no longer a dagger at his chest. 

“What, did you mppff!” he started, cut off as a wad of cotton was stuffed into his mouth. He struggled a bit, but his wounds kept him from doing much. 

“Play dead,” whispered Cochylis, eliciting a muted grunt of confusion from the pony. “Just lay still and act like you’re dead. Trust me.” 

Cochylis flipped the wheel locks on the stretcher and began pushing the bed forward. The heart monitor began following as the connecting wires were pulled taut. Cochylis pulled them free from the pony’s chest with a quick yank, causing the machine to go into a fit of alarms. Surely every Changeling in the hospital heard them.

Why am I even doing this? Cochylis thought. The bed parted the privacy curtain as it entered the main hall, Cochylis following on the head end as he pushed it. Several of the Changelings had come running to see what the commotion was, and he could only hope that they bought his story. 

“What’s going on over here?” one asked as he approached. 

“Just found this pony in a bed. Took care of him, but that machine he’s hooked to went all kinds of crazy when I did it.” Cochylis tried his best to keep a poker face, and it seemed to be working 

“Okay. How’d you do it?” the drone asked. Cochylis mimed twisting his own head, earning a nod from the other Changeling. 

“I’m just gonna take him outside and throw him with the others. We can use the bed.” Cochylis said as he continued pushing the bed down the row to the double doors. 

“Good thinking. Thanks for taking care of that.” said another Changeling, pulling back the curtain to the now-empty slot.

“No worries. Just take care of that screaming machine, will you?” Cochylis asked, making his tone a bit more jovial. 

“Sure thing.” The other drones began to go back to what they were doing, and Cochylis made his way to the doors. As he exited, he took one last look back at the Recovery ward. 

What did I just get myself into?
> Chapter ten: Getting Acquainted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What in the name of Discord’s goat leg is going on here?” 

Gravel Presser clutched the axe in his hooves a little tighter. Perhaps addressing the group of ponies before him was not the best of ideas, considering that from the short glimpse he had gotten, the lot of them would outnumber the ponies in Evergreen by a factor of seven. He did not step out, opting to stay behind the thick trunk of the tree for protection. 

The sound of the moving herd suddenly shifted, ultimately dying out within seconds. The woods were completely still once again, save for the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves overhead and the metallic ring of swords being drawn. 

Not good. 

“Who goes there?” a stallion shouted, his voice gruff with age. 

“I should be saying the same thing!” Gravel Presser retorted, pushing himself up against the tree trunk tighter, gripping his axe to his chest. 

“State your business!” 

“Trying to figure out what the hay you all are doing here!” 

A number of incomprehensible murmurs came from the crowd, along with the sound of numerous unicorns lighting their horns. 

Not good at all. 

“Show yourself!” shouted the stallion, the frustration in his tone growing. 

“I’ll come out if you’ll make your guard stand down!” Gravel Presser shouted. 

“Come out first!” 

“Call them off first!” 

“Come out first or we will come get you, and I don’t think either of us would like the outcome of that scenario!” 

Gravel Presser sighed and bumped his head against the tree. How bad could this group of ponies really be? 

“Alright, I’ll come out!” A murmur of unrest came from the group as Gravel Presser steeled his resolve. With one final deep breath he stepped out from behind the tree to face the crowd of ponies. 

He had never seen ponies that shined in the sunlight before. And three were sprinting towards him, crashing through the undergrowth with alarming speed and even more alarming swords drawn. 

“Drop your weapon! Drop it!” Shouted one of the guard ponies, pointing his sword at Gravel Presser’s head as he approached. Faced with either surrender or certain death, Gravel tossed his axe to the side. The guards spread out, encircling him with weapons menacingly pointed. 

Thwack!

Stars filled Gravel’s vision as he was bludgeoned in the back of his head. He fell forward, his snout digging into the soft earth. 

“Bind his hooves.” One of the guards produced a bundle of cord and passed it to his comrade, who began tying Gravel’s front hooves to his hind ones. Still dazed from the hefty blow to his head, Gravel didn’t put up much resistance as he was bound. 

“What is it?” the same stallion that he had conversed with seconds before asked, his heavy hoofsteps approaching from the left. 

“It appears to be a pony, sir. Earth stallion, late twenties, heavily muscled,” answered one of the guards. 

“Have you checked to see if he’s a bug?” 

“Not yet, sir.” 

“Get a unicorn up here to do a species analysis.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

The pony behind the voice appeared overhead. It was a green Earth pony, looking to be in his later middle ages. He looked down upon his prisoner with a predatory glint in his eyes, like a wolf about to feast on his prey. 

“Got anything to say to me, son?” His tone was so casual that it was icy. 

“Who- who are you?” Gravel Presser asked quietly, his now powerful headache dampening his voice. 

“I am Commander Falcon Nest of the Crystal Empire detachment of the Equestrian Royal Army. And you would be?” 

“Gravel Presser. Lumberjack. Pleasure to meet you,” Gravel choked out, sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

Nest chuckled, “We’ll see about that.” 

“What are you talking about?” Gravel tugged at his restraints. The crowd of ponies nearby was beginning to become restless. Nest chuckled again, stepping back with an almost foreboding casualness to his movements. 

Definitely not good at all. 

“Hey! Where are you going? Come back here and answer me!” Gravel shouted. His pulse began to skyrocket, which only made his head throb with more intense vigor. “Hey!” 

“Shut up, bug!’ commanded one of the guard ponies, kicking Gravel in the back. He gasped for breath, coughing in earnest as he tried to force air into his already-burning lungs. 

“Private, knock it off. You’ll get to have at it once we make sure that it’s a bug.” 

“W-what?!” Gravel choked out, pulling at his bindings with everything he had. 

“Quit squirming!” Another kick connected with Gravel’s rump. He kept yanking at the cord around his hooves that had him hogtied in spite of the guard’s order and the kick. He could feel the rope starting to slacken, perhaps he could get free in a few more seconds—

A blade appeared in front of his nose, halting his writhing immediately. 

“Move one more time and I will not hesitate to gut you like a fish. Got it, you damn Changeling piece of filth?” The blade was so close that he could smell the metal, and the faint hint of blood intermingled with it.

Gravel nodded slowly, forcing himself to remain silent and not ask the burning question on his mind. The “species analysis” would vindicate him of whatever they suspected him of in due time. 

“That’s him, right there.” As if on cue, a unicorn mare in similar crystal armor appeared overhead. She knelt down next to him, staring into his eyes with a icy, probing gaze. She did not say a word, instead letting her actions speak for her. She had a bag with her, and from it, she levitated…

Oh no. 

The mare had procured a saw from her bag. Whatever that meant, it couldn’t have been good. 

“Okay, I need something to place the sample in once we’ve removed it. And get something to shove in its mouth so it doesn’t blow our eardrums out when I start working.” The mare spoke to another guard, her words as cold as her stare. 

“Wait, what are you going to do with that saw?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about if you’re a bug. It’ll grow back if you survive.” 

“What?! No! No! I’m not a Changeling, what can I do to prove that to you?” Gravel Presser tugged once more at his restraints. 

“Just hold still and this will all be over before you know it.” The mare tapped the saw blade, knocking off a few bits of debris. Before Gravel could protest more, his head was jerked back and a dirty rag that tasted strongly of mud was stuffed into his mouth. The mare levitated the saw closer to his hind legs, and the restrained stallion finally broke . He screamed against the gag, trying to sound out his distress as best he could. It seemed hopeless, for the rag was going nowhere fast and the mare was just about ready to begin slicing at whatever part of him she was going after. 

“Hey! What’s going on over here?” 

A new voice brought silence as all of the commotion came to a sudden halt. 

“Show yourself!” Nest called out, in a fashion strikingly similar to how he had addressed Gravel. 

“I can see that you have a friend of ours taken prisoner. Why are you ponies attacking your own ponies?” That was Rivulet, her slightly-off grasp of the Equestrian language standing her out from the rest.

What is she doing out here? 

“We have reason to believe that this creature is a Changeling, working to scout our location and let his army know where to find us. He is a prisoner of the Equestrian Army,” barked Nest. Gravel’s stomach dropped a little further at that statement. 

“Well I think you’re mistaken! We work for a logging company, and we heard the ruckus and came to see what’s goin’ on here!” A third voice, this one belonging to a stallion named Pinecone, answered. Nest was silent for a few moments. He had seemed so sure of himself just seconds before. 

“Can you prove this?” 

A new voice from the strange crowd of ponies. This one was much deeper, more well-spoken and, in a way, more intimidating. 

“If you will let Gravel Presser go free, we will show you town.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, sweetheart, Gravel thought as he watched Nest’s hooves come stalking over closer. 

“Get a Pegasus in the air.” Nest pointed at one of the ponies gathered around Gravel. “Fly up above the trees and see if you can see a settlement nearby.” The soldier nodded and took to the air, skirting in between the branches of the forest canopy with such precision that he barely disturbed a single branch. He disappeared for a short moment before dropping back through the trees with much less care, snapping several smaller limbs in his descent. 

“They’re telling the truth. There’s a little settlement about three quarters of a mile east of here. Lots of timber cleared out too, so I assume it’s a logging operation.” 

Nest didn’t reply immediately, instead taking a few steps away from the group. 

“Cut him loose.” 





“This looks like as good a place as any,” Cochylis muttered to himself, letting the door swing closed of its own accord. With the door shut, the room was pitch black. He lit his horn and produced a simple light spell, bathing the tiny room in soft green light. 

“I’m going to take the gag out of your mouth now. If you so much as raise your voice at me, I will kill you and don’t think for a second that I won’t. Understand?”

“Mmmhmm,” the stallion on the bed grunted against the cotton stuck in his mouth. 

Cochylis lit his horn and pulled the cotton out of the stallion’s mouth. The stallion took a deep breath now that his mouth was unplugged, and he spat a few times before he relaxed, though his gritted teeth didn’t make him appear calm. 

“Water,” he whispered. “Water, please.” 

Cochylis stepped back from the bed, scanning around the little closet in search of some form of water. A few bottles on a shelf behind the bed were filled with some sort of liquid, but it didn’t appear to be anything intended for consumption. Maybe he could find some water in a nearby room. 

Cochylis scooted around the bed in the cramped space. He pressed an ear to the door, waiting patiently for any kind of sound. He could hear a changeling walking past in the hallway, and he held his breath. The steps were close to the closet, slowly working their way nearer. The changeling in the hall didn’t seem to take interest in the unmarked door, and the steps passed on down the hallway. Once the sound faded away, he ventured to crack the door open. 

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Cochylis opened the door just wide enough to squeeze himself through the crack, and he shut it behind himself as quickly as he could. 

There is no way I can keep this hidden for long. 





Braided Twist smiled weakly, anticipating what was coming with bated breath. She eased herself down and winced at the pain, but sighed in relief as her rump met the ground. For the first time in nearly a day, she was finally able to sit down. 

Slowly, she lost the strength to stay upright. She flopped over on the ground, grunting as she came to rest a bit harder than she intended to. Relief flooded through her, even though her legs hurt more now that she had let them rest. 

Despite the pain of the night on the move and the bright sunlight of the early afternoon, sleep began to overtake her mere moments after the collapsed. She wasn’t alone, as plenty of other ponies around her were laying down to rest. She looked around one more time before she closed her eyes, ready to let herself fall into sleep’s gentle embrace.

“Hey.” 

Her eyes shot open, and her heart pounded against her ribs. She jumped up in a frenzy, lashing her hooves out randomly in a desperate attempt to fend off her assailant. She screamed, hoping that it was enough to let other ponies know of the danger she was in. A stout foreleg was suddenly wrapped around her barrel, picking her up and bringing her to the ground. Her hooves were pinned against the attacker’s leg. She was caught, and she prepared to scream again. 

“Braid! Braid, get ahold of yourself!” 

She cracked her eyes open, revealing the shimmering colors of the stallion’s coat. She looked up to see that Coal Dust had her restrained from behind, wrapping her in a bearhug. Several ponies around her were staring. A fierce blush colored her cheeks. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shuddering slightly as she exhaled. “Okay. I’m calm. Can you let me up, please?” 

“Alright,” Coal Dust said. He released his grip, and Braid quickly scrambled up to her hooves. He wasn’t quite as quick to rise, but by the time he stood up, she was already galloping away from him. 

Braid lowered her head and ran as fast as her hooves could carry her. She didn’t care about the tears that were streaming down her cheeks or her heavily fatigued mind. All she cared about was getting away from those ponies who saw her outburst. 

She weaved in and out of the stumps and ponies lying amongst them, pushing towards the distant treeline in a desperate effort to get away from everypony else. As she drew nearer to the forest, she began to notice that there were fewer and fewer ponies around. Before long, she was clear of the field of refugees, and after running just a bit further, she was finally clear of all of the probing gazes. 

She slowed herself to a stop, dropping behind the closest tree stump. Her lungs burned, and she sucked air down in an effort to quell the pain in her chest. Save for the gentle breeze, it was quiet and serene. A few birds sang in the distant trees, and she closed her eyes. 

It wasn’t more than a few seconds before the peace was broken by hoofsteps coming up behind her. She cracked her eyes open, turning her head to see who was coming. 

Coal Dust had followed her, his armor and coat shimmering in the sun as he approached. She turned her head back towards the tree line, opting not to watch him come up. Why can’t he just leave me alone right now?

“Braid?” he asked, and she crouched down into the soft earth below her rump. There’s going to be a lot of dirt in my tail now. Great.

“Coal, please just leave me alone.” Her tone alone was plenty to stop him in his tracks. 

“But—”

“I said leave me alone!” She didn’t look at him, but he seemed to get the message. She heard him turn around start back the other direction, and she listened to his hoofbeats fade into the background noise from the camp. 





Cochylis touched down in the road with a heavy thunk, having slightly miscalculated his approach. Dull pain ran up his forelegs as he skidded to a halt in front of the hospital doors. A couple of seconds after him, another set of hooves touched down. 

“That was sloppy,” said Ips. Cochylis shook his forelegs to dissipate some of the pain. 

“It happens,” he dismissed. 

“Be more careful next time. You could chip your carapace.” Ips stepped forward, around the body of a stallion lying face down in the street. “Tell me again. Why did you choose to take quarters in a hospital, of all places?” 

“Believe it or not, pony hospitals are much nicer than ours.” He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. And there’s still a pony in this hospital. 

“Really? How so?” asked Ips. 

“It’s got lots of space, it’s clean, and it has a lot of spare pony beds that we can make use of.” 

Ips perked up at the third point. “Pony beds?” 

“Yes. I got in one earlier, and it’s probably the softest thing I’ve ever laid on.” 

“Excellent.” Ips pushed the front door open, and the pair stepped into the hospital lobby. 

“I’ll lead the way,” Cochylis said. He stepped forward, despite the fact that his knees seemed ready to give out. 

I could just find a new place. Let that pony rot in the closet until someone else finds him and takes care of him. He spared a glance back at Ips, the other drone’s expressionless blue eyes greeting him. He didn’t let his gaze linger, and snapped his head back forwards. 

He’s going to do something. That’s a guarantee. The question was what? Would he just kill the pony and shrug it off? Would he try to kill Cochylis on the grounds of treason? Would he simply run to report the straggler? 

Can I take him? 

If Cochylis had learned one thing about his partner in the week that he’d been assigned to him, he’d learned that the other drone was a violent type. The cruel efficiency he’d used to take out guard ponies was one thing, but when he’d executed the shield unicorns? 

He could kill me faster than I could blink. A pit began to form deep in Cochylis’ abdomen. He was in for it. He was in deep. 

Me and my soft exoskeleton. Now I’m gonna get it for sure. He rounded a corner. Only two more turns remained before they arrived at the storage closet. 

Surely there’s still open beds somewhere around here. I’ll lead him somewhere else. I’ll just keep this as my little secret. They rounded yet another bend in the hallway. The doors to the recovery ward he’d found the pony in loomed ahead. Four changelings rounded the corner up ahead, coming from the direction of the storage closet. 

Who am I kidding? This place is already swarming with drones! They probably already found the pony and took him away, anyhow. This was a terrib—

“How much further?” Ips’ voice cut his thought short, and he nearly jumped in surprise. 

“It’s just a little bit further. Don’t worry. I found us a place.” 

“Okay?” Ips furrowed his brow. 

I’m letting it show, aren’t I? 

Cochylis steeled his nerves as they approached the final turn. He remembered a water fixture on the wall next to the closet door, and there it was, about fifty feet away. 

I can do this. Just work some magic with words and I can make him see my side! 

The fountain drew ever nearer, and Cochylis was sure his legs were going to give out before he even closed the gap. He was so focused that he barely noticed two more drones pass by in the opposite direction. 

I can do it. And if he can’t be persuaded, then I still have my knife. The fixture was mere steps away. The time of reckoning had come. 

And he kept walking right past it. 

I can’t do it! Cochylis broke out into a quick trot, racing down the long hallway. 

“What are you doing?” Ips yelled. 

“We have to hurry! It might not still be there if we keep walking!” 

The hallway quickly ran out, its end marked by a big set of double doors nearly identical to the those of the recovery ward. 

“In there?” Ips asked as he caught back up. 

“Yes, that’s right!” Cochylis confirmed, though he wasn’t quite sure that the smile he gave Ips with the statement was appropriate. He reached up and pushed on the door with a forehoof. 

It didn’t budge. 

“We’re locked out?” Ips was noticeably peeved.

“I could swear these doors were open just a few minutes ago!” Cochylis pushed again, harder. The doors merely rattled a bit. He took a step back, looking at the doors in a wider frame. As he did, he noticed a big silver button on the wall. 

Operation Ward door control. Push to open. 

“That’s because it was already opened for me by someone else. No problem though!” He pushed the button, and a quiet motor whirred to life on the opposite side. The door swung open slowly, clacking against the wall as it reached the end of its operation. “In we go!” Cochylis announced. A wave of relief washed over him as he stepped into the next hall. These rooms were likely untouched by the other drones. He was out of danger for the time being. 

I just left a pony to die alone in the dark. 





Shadows grew ever longer as the sun continued along its slow trek towards the horizon. On a normal day, the town of Evergreen would be quiet. The loggers would be out in the field working, and the few ponies whose jobs were based in the town itself would usually be busying themselves in preparation for the workers to return for the night. Aside from a dog or a pony milling about, the town should have been still. 

Except, today was no normal day. 

The usually empty street was filled to the brim with ponies, barely any of them actually from the town. The refugees from the Crystal Empire had flooded into the logging camp, and it was doing a poor job of supporting the sudden influx of new arrivals. Nopony had anywhere to go besides claiming a place on the bare ground. Every building was jammed full of dirty, tired ponies. unrest was already brewing. 

Headstrong galloped down the muddy thoroughfare that served as the camp’s main street alongside two other soldiers. Their swords were drawn, and nopony dared stand in their way as they sped through the crowded street. 

“Where are we headed again, Sergeant?” asked Headstrong. 

“Looters are at the town store, apparently,” answered Corundum, the sergeant mare who had sought him out to help just a few minutes before. 

“Great.” Headstrong shook his head to better seat his helmet down on his head. The general store was just ahead, and it was already apparent that there was an incident going on. A large crowd of ponies was gathered around the front entrance, and they were riled up. 

A few ponies noticed the guards approaching and bolted as Headstrong took the lead into the crowd, using his size to knock his way through the wall of equines. A mare and a smaller stallion were knocked over as he plowed into the group, as he cleared a path for the other two soldiers to follow, forcing their way up onto the porch. 

The door was closed, and he could see a stallion with a knife through the window. He stopped, turned around, and delivered a thunderous buck to the door, which cracked and squeaked under the stress. He reared back once more and let his rear hooves fly. The door’s hinges gave way with an earsplitting crack, and it fell backwards with another sharp smash and the sound of breaking glass. Corundum and the other guard moved in first, followed by Headstrong a second later. When he stepped into the room, he saw the tail end of a rapid succession of events. 

The shopkeeper was already ducking down behind the counter as Corundum tackled a mare brandishing a knife. A stallion and a mare came bolting out from the rows of shelves, each carrying a load of items on their backs. The stallion didn’t have time to react before he was bodychecked, his bundle of loot crashing to the floor and spilling its contents. The mare started towards the doorway but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the hulking stallion blocking her path. They locked eyes for a brief moment, each frozen in place as they stared each other down.

Headstrong moved first. He charged forward, shouting at her to surrender. She sidestepped his charge and shot back into the shelves, making her way to the back of the store. Headstrong adjusted his course and charged down the next row, aiming to catch her at the back corner. 

“Backup! I need help!” 

Corundum’s voice rang out behind him, and he whipped around to see that the other mare was taking the upper hand in the struggle. He skid to a halt, knocking boxes of dried apples from the shelves as he flailed to stop himself. In a second, he was back on his hooves and thundering back towards his comrade. 

The mare looked up just in time to see a large white shoulder rushing towards her face. Her head snapped back under the force of the collision, and she fell like a stone. Corundum grabbed a rope from her saddlebag and set about hogtying the now unconscious mare after she confiscated the knife. With the lead pony taken care of, Headstrong turned his attention back to the mare he had been chasing, only she was long gone The crowd out front had quickly dispersed with the arrival of the guard, and the third looter had managed to slip out with the rest of the ponies. 

“We lost a crook,” Headstrong announced.

“We got two of them though, that’s what matters,” said Corundum as she pulled the rope tight around the mare’s hooves. 

“I got a look at her. I could go out there and find her.” 

“No, Corporal, you’re not.” Corundum’s stern voice stopped him dead in his tracks. “Now help us get these two dealt with.”

Headstrong laid his ears back flat on his head. Is she really pulling rank on me right now? 

“Yes, ma’am.” He returned to her side and picked up the unconscious mare on his back. The other soldier was already walking the stallion out of the store at swordpoint. 

“What exactly are we going to do with these two, Sergeant?” 

Corundum scoffed. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea.” 

“Great.” 





A large crowd had formed around the logging company’s food line, as with nearly every other amenity in the town. Though things seemed to be progressing peacefully, it was a conglomeration of chaos around the small cooking station. 

Braid watched the unfolding situation from afar, perched atop stump, the smell of sawdust from the freshly cut wood mixing with the cool air around her. From what she could tell from her vantage point, the kitchenwas painfully understaffed. A single mare was shouting at the crowd, veins visible on her forehead, though her efforts seemed useless amidst the whirlwind of ponies descending upon her. She couldn’t see anypony else in the kitchen. 

I really should get in there and do something. 

Braid had dealt with plenty of hectic days on the job, but this easily trumped anything she’d ever had to deal with back—

She needs help, so who am I to sit here and watch? 
She felt the pang in her chest starting to burn, and she scooted herself off of the stump with haste. She worked her way around the edge of the crowd, taking care not to get caught up in the mob. The shouts of unrest were getting more insistent by the moment. 

Not a moment too soon. Braid skirted around the outer edge of the group until she was at the back of the shack, which was clear of any of the ponies looking for food. 

The back door of the metal outbuilding was shut tight—probably locked—but still worth a try. She reached up and pressed the lever. To her surprise, it turned. 

“Hello?” she called as she cracked the door open. 

“Ah!” shouted the mare inside. She was a unicorn, and her horn flew into action on reflex, floating a knife into the air near the door. Braid jumped back a little, putting the door between herself and the knife. 

“No, don’t worry! I saw that you were a little overwhelmed and wanted to help.” 

“Help, you say?” asked the mare.

That’s quite the accent she has. “I can help you with cooking or cleaning, anything that needs to be done.” 

It took the mare on the other side a few seconds to reply. “Alright, you may come in.” 

“Great!” Braid opened the door and stepped up into the kitchen. The mare inside, a violet unicorn with her golden mane tied up in a bun, eyed her carefully as she entered. 

“Вернитесь!” Rivulet shouted, swatting at a stallion reaching in the window with her wooden spoon. She turned back towards the window and her work. “What is it that you know about cooking?” she asked, not affording Braid eye contact. 

“I used to run a bakery—” she paused as a hitch caught in her throat. “—excuse me, so I know my way around a kitchen, if that’s what you’re asking. What needs done?” 

“The soup needs tending,” the violet mare said, pointing towards two large steaming pots on the stove on the back wall. 

“Alright, that works!” Braid grabbed a spare apron hanging next to the door and hastily tied it on before walking over to the two vats. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?” 

“I am Rivulet. You are?” 

“Braided Twist, but that can be a little bit of a mouthful, so just call me Braid.” 

“Miss Braid, I thank you for your help. Now, there is much to be done.” Rivulet nodded and returned to the unruly crowd before her. 

“Happy to do it,” acknowledged Braid. She reared back onto her hind legs so she could get a look down into the pot, and she was greeted by a lightly simmering pot filled with red broth and little else. The smell wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t impressive, even to her own empty stomach. She stirred it a bit, bringing a few bits of corn, carrots, and potatoes to the surface, but those did little to spice things up. 

“What do you have in the way of spices?” Braid asked. 

“Whatever is in the drawer to your left,” Rivulet answered, dropping some cornbread onto a platter with a dull think.

“Gotcha.” Braid pulled the drawer open, and to her dismay, she was greeted by only a few little jars of spice. Onion powder, cumin, cinnamon, and oregano were the entirety of Rivulet’s available assortment of seasonings aside from salt and pepper. 

Oregano would work to give the stew a little more flavor. That and a dash of salt would work. Braid retrieved the seasonings from the drawer, popped the caps off of them, and added just a light touch of them to both pots. 

“Miss Braid, please check the bread in the oven!”

“On it!” She flipped on the oven light, and she could clearly see the four loaves of bread stuffed in there were done, perhaps a little too much so. “Where do you keep the hot pads?” 

“Switch me places!” Rivulet shouted, ducking back to the rear of the kitchen as Braid was pushed up to the front serving line by a little burst of magic against her rump. 

“Hello!” Braid greeted the stallion standing at the front of the line in her usual way. “How are you today?” 

He didn’t respond, merely shaking his head at the food she had yet to dish up. She took the hint, pouring the soup out and dropping a square of cornbread next to it. She passed it off to him, and he disappeared instantly, replaced by a crystal pony mare who looked even less willing to make small talk. 

As she served yet another tray, she looked back at Rivulet, who was bustling over the bread and still trying to mind the cooking soup. Her neat bun was quickly fraying, nearly to the point of unraveling, and her eyes were gaunt, like she hadn’t rested in a long time. 

The crowd grew louder by the second, and none of them were interested in anything besides the food. They were cold, tired, and hungry, just like her. Braid looked down at the bland, hastily-made soup she was serving; soup that there was simply no time to properly care for. 

I really miss my shop. 





“Well that’s a tiny knife.” 

Cochylis looked up to see Ips fumbling around in a cabinet on the far side of the room. A few tools rattled before one loud clank pierced the air. 

“մինետ!” Ips shouted, reverting back to his native language. 

“What’d you do to yourself?” 

“That little knife is really sharp.” Ips buzzed across the room, a few drips of teal blood running down his foreleg. “Do you know where they keep the bandages around here?” 

“Try the drawers over there,” Cochylis said, only half paying attention. He dropped his head back on the bed, staring up at the extremely bright lights in the ceiling directly over him. 

Compared to the “Recovery Ward”, this room was much less comfortable. A single, narrower bed sat directly in the center of the room, which was ringed with numerous cabinets and other storage units around the walls. The room reeked of disinfectants, and based on the various other assorted tools, this must have been where surgeries were performed back when the hospital was in operation. 

The pony in the closet was probably lying here. Cochylis stared up into the light fixture overhead, not even noticing that it was burning his eyes. He didn’t really care, all things considered. 

I’m going down when someone else finds that pony. They’ll find out I hid him and then I’m finished. 

Cochylis looked over at Ips, who was struggling with a roll of bandages. He’d probably be the first in line to kill me. Cochylis jumped up from the bed, shaking himself down as he hit the floor. 

“If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go look around some more.” 

Ips didn't even look up. “Don’t get lost.” 

“Sure.” Cochylis pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. They had been the first to enter the operating wing, but they were only the first of many. The hallway was already filling with other changelings looking for a place to bed down, though most of the other rooms in the hall had been taken. He turned left, walking out of the ward doors and back into the long hallway. 

To his surprise, this hall was empty. He walked through it in a hurry, only pausing to look down an adjoining passage that boasted a large hole in the ceiling further down. His heart rate rose sharply as he approached the water fixture, and he checked behind himself to make sure that no other changelings had come up behind him. 

He was still alone. He pushed the door open as far as it could go, which wasn’t very much considering the stretcher on the other side. He slipped through the opening, closing the door carefully behind himself. 

The pony in the bed shifted a bit as he entered. “Who’s there?” 

“It’s me.” Cochylis took a seat at the bedside on a small stool. 

“Can you give me more water, please?” 

“Sure,” agreed Cochylis, floating a can of water down from the shelf to the stallion’s mouth, who gulped it greedily. 

“Thank you,” the stallion said, taking a deep breath once the can was lifted from his mouth.

“You’re welcome.” Silence tried to take over for a moment. 

“What’s your name?” 

Cochylis froze. Ponies were never supposed to be able to sympathize with Changelings. They were mortal enemies by default. 

And yet this pony wanted to know his name?

“You there?” 

“Yes, I’m still here.” 

“Well, what’s your name? Or do Changelings not have names?” 

He paused for another moment. “I am Drone number one-three-three-nine-three-seven.” 

“Is that what you go by?” 

“No. I shouldn’t tell you my name.” 

“Alright then, my name is Gust Rainstorm, but you can just call me Gust.” 

Again, the room went quiet. Cochylis sat there, looking at Gust. The stallion was unreadable due to the bandages, the only available indicator of his demeanor in his voice. And it sounded like he was being sincere. 

“Cochylis.” 

“What was that?” Gust asked. 

“My name is Cochylis.” 

“Well, Cochylis, it’s nice to meet you.” 





The shutter over the serving window rattled as Rivulet pulled it closed. It was almost quitting time for Braid.

It had taken hours of constant work to get everypony through the line. Two others had come by to volunteer just as Braid did, but they both left long before the end of the day. Not that she blamed them, of course. Her hooves had been numb for the last couple of hours, worked to the bone by the constant stirring, scrubbing, lifting, and serving that she was doing. Her hind hooves and her back were crying for rest, and tempting as it was, she chose to ignore the pain and continue working. 

Not that she was complaining, though. Working in the kitchen was exactly what she needed, though it was considerably more stressful than working in her old shop—

Back to work. She focused her attention on the greasy, burned pot that she was tasked to clean. It must have seen at least ten separate uses throughout the course of the afternoon, as the soups they were preparing seemed to disappear just in time to be immediately replaced. There was still a formidable stack of dirty dishes left to contend with, but she wasn’t going to think about that. If I focus on one thing, I won’t get overwhelmed. 

“Miss Braid?” 

“Yes?” 

“Why do you not call it a day? You have not had a break since you started.” 

Braid chuckled. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. I like to keep busy.” Rivulet’s hoof took hold of her shoulder, and she turned to face the other mare. 

“Look at me.” Rivulet locked eyes with Braid. “Your eyes, they are bloodshot. Look at your hooves.” 

Braid lifted a forehoof up, and only when she took a look at it did she finally feel the full extent of the pain. Her hoof was swollen, saturated with water, and rubbed raw to the point that it was about ready to bleed. 

“You need a rest, Miss Braid. Even I have took a few breaks, but you have not,” said Rivulet, her voice stern and unflinching. 

“I’m fine,” Braid said, looking away from the violet mare. Magic wrapped around her chin and pulled her head back to making eye contact. 

Rivulet’s eyes met Braid’s, and she almost melted under the steely glare. 

“I have been meaning to ask you. What made all of these ponies come here in the first place?” 

The question cut at Braid like a hot knife. Tears welled up in her eyes almost instantly as a torrent of memories threatened to come loose. She wrestled herself away from Rivulet’s hold just in time for a stream of tears to run down her cheek. 

“Okay, I’ll take a b-break.” 

Rivulet must have sensed just how tender the subject matter was. She didn’t press the issue. “Good. Why not go and have a good sleep?” 

“That sounds nice, actually.” Braid pulled her apron over her head and replaced it on the rack. 

“Can I expect you back tomorrow?” Rivulet asked.

“I’ll be back, definitely. Maybe I’ll get a few of my friends to come and help us…” she sniffed, the tears returning to her eyes as it dawned on her. “If they’re still—if they’re still alive.” 

Braid collapsed to her haunches. She closed her eyes tight, trying to shut out what she knew was coming, but it was hopeless. Memories began surfacing, memories of bright green fireballs streaking across the sky filling her mind. She remembered the burning, ozone smell that filled the air, the sound of the explosions from when the spellfire hit the ground. The thump she could feel in her forehead with every pressure wave from the blasts. 

And the stallion who completely disappeared when he was hit by one of the fireballs. 

She had been trying so hard to hold it back, to keep herself composed amidst the chaos, but she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She hitched once, then twice more, and finally the dam broke. She cried out, breaking into a fit of shoulder-shaking sobs that she had no control over. Rivulet appeared in front of her, and Braid grabbed the other mare on pure reflex, burying her muzzle into her shoulder and crying with abandon. 

“Miss Braid?” Rivulet asked. She got no response beyond the frantic weeping. She didn’t ask again, allowing Braid to vent her anguish into her shoulder. They sat there for a long while, the only sounds in the kitchen being that of the still-running sink and Braid’s whimpers. 

“Miss Braid, are you alright?” Rivulet finally asked once more. Braid caught herself, lifting her head from Rivulet’s shoulder. She didn’t know how long she’d been sobbing, but it must have been for a while. She looked around with bleary eyes, noticing that the light outside had faded substantially while she was crying. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” said Braid. She sniffed and wiped at her nose. 

“Please, go rest.” Rivulet stood up, offering a hoof to Braid. “You are in need of it.” 

“I will.” 

“I thank you for all of your help today. Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“You can count on it.” Braid walked over to the door, wiping at her eyes one more time. She paused before she pushed it open. “Oh, and Rivulet?” 

“Yes, Miss Braid?” 

Braid crossed the distance between them and wrapped Rivulet in a tight hug. “Thank you.” 

“Always.” Braid released the embrace, and she waved goodbye once more before she left the kitchen. 





Braid walked through the vast field of tree stumps and ponies that now lined the little logging camp. She knew who she was looking for, but it was proving difficult to find him in the massive group. 

Come on, Braid. Think. Where would I be if I was him? 

She looked at the ponies lying all around her, and she didn’t see any of the soldiers nearby. She was near the middle of the field—

Of course! He’ll be on the outside edge somewhere! It made perfect sense. The soldiers had been ordered to stay on the outside edge of the group while they fled the Empire, and they were still doing the same thing. She adjusted her course for the outside edge of the town, and after several minutes of working her way around countless ponies and stumps in the low light, she made it to the very edge of the field, near the tree line. 

It took a bit of searching once she made it there, but it was fairly easy to pick him out from the crowd; after all, he was one of the few crystal ponies to sport a pair of wings. He was sitting up ramrod straight, his back facing her as he seemed to be watching the trees with what little bit of light was left in the day. 

“Dusty?” 

He turned to face her, and his eyes seemed to light up just a bit. “Braid?” 

She didn’t reply with words, instead wrapping him in a tight hug. After a few moments, she noticed that he hadn’t returned the embrace. 

Maybe I should try this another way. She released him, and as she expected, he was looking at her with a stupefied expression. 

“Look, Dusty, I’m sorry about earlier.” 

“No, I’m sorry about what happened! I shouldn’t have—” 

Braid frowned. “Let me talk,” she interrupted, and to her surprise, he didn’t need a second reminder to shut up. She sidled over and took a seat next to him, looking into the forest beyond. 

“I really don’t know what came over me back there. Maybe I was still on-edge about the attack last night, or maybe I was just tired and you startled me.” 

“Probably both?” Coal offered. 

“Yeah, that’s probably it. But anyway, I just wanted to apologize for it. You didn’t do anything wrong besides walking up to me at a bad moment.” 

Braid paused. “You know, I still haven’t seen any of my friends since the attack.” The crying had taken some of the pressure away, but it still hurt to bring up the subject. 

“Tell me about it,” said Coal. 

Braid couldn’t help the tear that escaped. “I don’t know if they made it or not. I hope they did, but there’s always that chance.” She stopped to wipe her eyes. “You know, Dusty, right now I think you’re the only friend I have left.

“Braid—”

“I’ve always been afraid of the dark. After those timberwolves attacked last night, I don’t think I could manage to spend the night on my own. Dusty, is it okay if I spend the night here with you?” 

Coal Dust wrapped a hoof around her shoulder and pulled her up against himself. “Of course you can.” 

“Oh, thank you, Dusty!” Braid squeezed him around the chest with her own quick hug. She released him and lowered herself to the ground. “Are you going to sleep soon?” 

“Not for another hour. I’m supposed to be on watch. Somepony else will take over my spot when time’s up though.” He looked down at Braid, and couldn’t help smiling. She was already dozed off. 

“Sleep well, Braid.”