What Bound Them

by Headless

First published

A thousand years after the events in Ponyville, Spike wakes up to find the world a very different, dangerous place. Now he has only one question, and his quest for the answer will take him across Equestria: whatever happened to Twilight Sparkle?

It's been more than a thousand years since the Mane Six's adventures in Ponyville, and things look very different. Equestria is gone, devoured by chaos. Nightmare creatures roam the lands, changelings prey on the few remaining pony settlements, and all trace of the peace and harmony during Princess Celestia's reign has vanished.

Until, that is, a small group of ponies set out to map the Tangle, and find a slumbering dragon inside. Now Spike, a millenium out of his time and with only his memories to comfort him, is ponykind's only hope. Together, he and his new friends set out to find the one pony who can set things right: Twilight Sparkle.


Cover art by the inestimable TheAuthorGl1m0.

Featured by The Royal Guard on February 4th, 2014.

[img]http://tinyurl.com/kaxbtuk[/img]
AUTHOR'S NOTES

- Beware of spoilers in the comment section!
- Currently undergoing heavy revision for chapters nineteen and onward. The "lost" chapters - that is, the story as it was originally published - can be found here.

1: The Tangle

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It was slow going through the vines, but Pith Helmet had expected that. That was why they had brought enough food to last for almost a month, even though the trip was only meant to last two weeks. Granted, that was a month of living on canned rations and eating lightly, but still. They would survive.

What he hadn't bargained on was the heat. The weather had taken a sudden foul turn two days into their journey, just as they hit the Tangle proper. A storm was rolling across the plains, driving the summer heat before it, and the air was hot and thick. Occasionally, thunder rumbled in the distance. Worse, the vines here were so closely twisted together, so solidly formed, that they blocked most of the breeze.

He hacked a marking into the black skin of the last vine they had just wormed past, so they would know the path they had taken, and helped Compass Rose to her feet again. The unicorn was already too exhausted to even bother thanking him, and they were less than two hours into the day's journey.

He could understand, though. The Tangle wasn't an ordinary forest. What trees there once were had long since died, though they were still there - they had just become twisted, dried hulks that loomed up out of the darkness at odd angles. Most of them had been uprooted, but not many were actually laying across the ground. Most had been caught by the vines before they got that far.

The vines were the real obstacle in the Tangle. There were odd plants, yes, and dangerous creatures besides; cockatrices often made their way out from the fringes and terrorized the surrounding towns, and the deceptively alluring blue flowers that marked poison joke grew in thick swatches throughout it. But the vines were the real problem.

They were massive, each wider around than a pony was tall, and covered in razor-sharp thorns the size of swords. The thick black skin that covered them was tough, too, bordering on indestructible. Even his machete could barely do more than scratch the surface on one. And they grew thickly enough that there was barely room for anyone to move between them. They grew all around, twisting and turning, the thorns always catching on exposed skin and cutting lightly, blocking out all the light from the sky outside. And every so often, out of the corner of your eye, they might appear to be moving.

He straightened up and turned, letting the light from his helmet illuminate the rest of the party. There was Compass, her clover-green coat stained with mud, dirt, and sweat, and her eyes downcast. Pith had taken up the burden of carrying most of her share of the supplies, but she was still very obviously almost at her limit. He had advised against her coming for that very reason, but she had insisted. She was the cartographer, after all. If they found anything, she would want to know exactly where it was. And, as she had repeated over and over in the days leading up to the trip, it was an exploration mission. Things should be catalogued.

Tailspin was holding up somewhat better, at least. The pegasus shot him a worn, but still bright, grin. She was wearing another helmet lamp, along with the rest of Compass' share of the supplies. Between the two of them, Pith and the red-coated pegasus had managed to free the unicorn of all the weight they could. They were the more experienced outdoorsponies, after all, and by far more physically fit than their bookish companion. The only things they had left with Compass were her maps and quills - which she wouldn't have parted with anyway - and a small flashlight, in case she got separated from the rest and needed her own light source.

Compass was facing away from him for the moment, and Pith took the opportunity to shoot a meaningful look to Tailspin. She frowned, then shrugged. Your call, big man.

He sighed and stepped forward to lead the way again. "Don't worry," he muttered as he passed Compass. "We'll make camp soon."

Only three hours in and we already have to stop, said a voice in the back of his mind. This is why we should have made her stay behind.

He shook his head and shouldered a fallen branch aside. "Come on," he said. "This way."

"Ten degrees to your right," came the tired whisper from behind him. Compass' horn was shining dimly in the gloom.

"Stop that," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. "You're overexerting yourself."

The mare lifted her head and fixed him with a glare that could have cut diamonds. "You just focus on staying on the path," she answered coolly. "I'll keep up."

He sighed and turned back to the darkness ahead. In truth, he was grateful for the unicorn keeping the three of them headed in the right direction. It was faster than having Tailspin fight her way upwards for a glimpse of the sky to ascertain their location every few hours. He was just worried that things were going to be too much for-

He blinked. His helmet lamp had just illuminated something that didn't look natural. He stopped and leaned forward, peering at it closely.

"Hey, what's up, big guy?" came the whisper from behind him. Tailspin crept up to stand by his side, frowning. "Why've we stopped?"

"Look," he said flatly. He nudged the thing with one hoof. There was a faint clinking sound.

It was a small series of chain links, heavily rusted and pitted with age. At one end, it was hooked into something larger, buried beneath the dirt.

They tugged it out together and dropped it onto the ground in front of Compass Rose. It was a long, thin metal strip, with a series of screws studded into it at regular intervals. Something had obviously been attached to it in the past, but that something had also long since rotted away.

"Well, what's this doing here?" Tailspin asked, prodding it. It clinked again.

Pith shrugged. He was watching Compass. To his surprise, the formerly exhausted-looking unicorn was grinning now, and there was a spark of energy in her eyes. "It means we're going the right way," she said. "We're looking for a castle, after all. There were probably signs along the road leading to it, right? This must have been part of one of them."

"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you?" said Tailspin, with a slight laugh. "We still don't even know if there really is a castle around here."

Compass dropped right back into her scowl. "Well, fine," she said. "If that's the way you want to be. But this does show that there's something around here, at least. Let's just get moving again."

Pith sighed as the other two sank back into sullen silence. The heat was making them all irritable. He scooped up the chain and stuffed it into one saddlebag, then turned to lead the way into the Tangle once more.


An hour later, the heat had almost become unbearable. More than once, Pith was certain that he saw steam rising off the damp earth. He was just about to call for a break, for them to wait until the heat wave had passed, when he heard Compass say "Wait."

He turned, expecting to see the unicorn collapsing, sure that she was calling for a break due to exhaustion. But she wasn't. She was standing there, horn glowing again, a look of concentration on her features. He glanced at Tailspin, who shrugged.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's... something magical ahead," Compass said slowly. She wasn't really looking at him. Or anything, really. She was staring off into nothing, like she always did when she was working an exceptionally complex spell. "Something very magical."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Tailspin asked, lifting her head slightly and peering past Pith. "Maybe it's what we're looking for."

"Nnnnooooo," the unicorn said, still not looking at either of them. "This feels... odd. Strong. Stronger than any pony spell I've ever felt before. I don't think it is a pony spell."

"Then what?" Tailspin looked back to Compass, frowning now.

There was no answer for a few long seconds. Then, very quietly, Compass muttered, "I don't know."

Both Pith and Tailspin stared at her for another few moments. Then Pith shrugged. "Only one way to find out," he said, as he started to walk into the darkness again.

He heard the other two trotting lightly to keep up as he shouldered the undergrowth aside and twisted around the vines. "It might be dangerous!" he heard Compass call.

"This entire trip's dangerous," he answered. "We came out here looking for an old, magic castle, and now you've felt magic, and we're gonna check it out."

"I wasn't expecting this much magic!" the unicorn insisted. "Or any that felt this strange! Almost... hot..."

She trailed off. Ahead of her, Pith had come to a stop.

He was staring upward.

Here, the vines had vanished. They were still there overhead, but overhead, just now, was a long way off. They had stumbled into a massive, dome-shaped opening in the Tangle, almost large enough to hold a settlement. But their view of most of it was blocked by what looked like a massive, oddly-contoured wall directly in front of Pith.

Thunder rumbled somewhere close by.

"No way," breathed Tailspin, as she moved up to stand by Pith. "That can't be... Is that?"

"It is," squeaked Compass. The unicorn had moved up on Tailspin's other side.

Pith grunted. "Tail."

It was indeed a tail: a massive, purple length of scale the size of a barn, ridged with emerald-green spikes along its top and tapering very slightly off towards their right. Heat poured off of it in waves, almost scalding them as they stared up at it in disbelief.

"A dragon," breathed Compass, eyes wide. "I don't believe it. A dragon."

"There's a dragon in the Tangle?" Tailspin gaped at the scales, her voice low and disbelieving. "There's a dragon in the Tangle. Pith, there's a dragon in the Tangle."

"Yeah, I can see that," Pith grunted. He shook his head. "Must've been here since before it started growing, and the heat, or something, kept the vines off."

"Or maybe," said Compass, sounding more thoughtful than anything now, "it's what it's hoarded that kept the vines away."

Pith turned to look at her, and she flushed somewhat. "Well, dragons hoard valuable stuff, right? And the magic I sensed is close now. I'm willing to bet it's part of this dragon's collection."

"Uh, 'scuse me," whispered Tailspin, "but shouldn't we be keeping our voices down?"

Compass blinked. "Well, dragons usually sleep for hundreds of years," she said. "They usually won't wake up until they get hungry or someone touches their hoard."

"Oh." Tailspin didn't seem to relax much. "Well. Let's try not to do that, then. Nobody smell delicious."

"We all stink," Pith said flatly. Abruptly, he turned and set off, following the slight curve of the tail around the perimeter of the dome.

The other two fell into step behind him. "Wait, wait, wait," Tailspin said. "Where are we going now?"

Pith glanced at her over his shoulder. "To find that magic thing Compass was talking about. She said it was close."

"Yeeaaaah," said Tailspin, looking slightly nervous. "But she also said it was probably part of the hoard, which we just established we kinda don't want to touch." She eyed Pith hesitantly as she hopped along in his wake. Every other step or so was slightly longer than the rest, as her wings fluttered involuntarily, keeping her hovering above the ground for a few moments.

"Still doesn't mean we shouldn't at least know what it is," Pith said, shrugging. "We don't have to touch it, but we're here to map the Tangle, and that means we need to know what's in here. So we go look."

He turned back to the path ahead, and the three of them lapsed into silence again.


It took several minutes' walk to bring them to the end of the tail. In the darkness, they couldn't make out much past that - until Pith stepped over its pointed tip and brought his helmet lamp around.

He let out a low whistle as the rest of the dragon's body came into view. It was massive, even for a dragon. It looked as though it could have torn mountains in half with its bare claws, had it been awake. Its towering bulk loomed upward, the purple scales glinting in the light. Every so often, the rumble of its breathing caused the ground under his hooves to shake.

It was curled around the entire perimeter of the clearing, almost forming a complete circle with its body. The only gap was about twenty yards wide, where they stood between its tail and the tip of its snout.

Or, rather, where they presumed the tip of its snout would be. One huge, leathery wing was draped over the dragon's forebody, hiding the rest of it from sight.

Tailspin and Compass stepped up on either side of him. The pegasus was shaking slightly, but Pith couldn't tell whether it was from fear or adrenaline. Probably both, he mused to himself. Compass, on the other hand, had the same iron-hard glint in her eye that he had seen earlier. She wasn't looking at the dragon. She was looking inward, towards the center of the clearing.

There wasn't anything there that Pith could see, but the light of his helmet lamp wasn't very powerful. Compass voiced her thoughts when she said, sounding more than a little eager, "It must be further in. Towards the center. This is it, though. Whatever that magic is, it's coming from this dragon's hoard." She shook her head slightly. "I can't imagine what it might be. A dragon's hoard is related to its size. The more valuable the things it hoards, the bigger it gets." She set off into the darkness, not even bothering to wait for the other two. "This must be incredible."

Pith pushed himself into a trot to keep up with her. Behind him, he heard Tailspin's wings flittering as she propelled herself into the air. He heard her mutter something about getting to stretch.

Beside him, Compass was peering eagerly into the murk, apparently convinced that, any second, the blank soil and undergrowth beneath their hooves would be replaced by the dragon's hoard. A full minute passed like that, with the three of them moving inward in a silence broken only by the deep, throbbing rumble of the dragon's breath, blanketed in smothering, volcanic heat.

Then a second.

And then a third.

Finally, Tailspin broke the silence. "You could fit a whole city in here," she said. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but still seemed like a thunderclap in the silence. "But it's all empty. Where's this hoard?"

"It's close," Compass panted, not looking up. "I can feel it. We're so close."

Pith was about to speak up to say that Tailspin seemed to be right when he saw it. Something swam into vision at the edge of his helmet lamp's light.

He stopped and stared at it for a long moment. Beside him, Compass and Tailspin were doing the same.

Finally, after almost a minute's silence, he said, "What?"


It was a house.

It was a circular house that stood in three tiers, topped with a small, steeple-like structure at its peak. The walls were turquoise, the sloped ceilings were a pink so deep that it bordered on purple, and it was covered in gold ornamentation. It looked almost... happy. In a place like the Tangle, surrounded by heat and scales and thorns and darkness, it seemed impossible.

"So... that's the hoard?" Tailspin asked, pointing at it with one hoof. "A house?"

"It... I don't know," Compass said. She looked as confused as anyone. "It's definitely magical. But it's not what I've been sensing." She squinted up at it, towards the steeple at the top. "It's up there," she said firmly. "Something up at the top."

Pith glanced upward at Tailspin, then jerked his head towards the house. She sighed. "Fiiiine," she muttered, sounding half-joking and half-exasperated. "Send me headfirst into it, why don't you. Like always." And she flapped off, towards the terrace.

When she reached it, she stopped, hovering, and stared for a long time. Then she called, "Uh, yeah, Compass, I think I found it."

"Well?" Compass shouted back. "What is it?"

"It's, uh," came the reply, as Tailspin flitted in circles around the top of the house, "it's a statue. Of a pony."

"What's it look like?"

"It's a unicorn," Tailspin answered slowly, "wearing a dress. But it's... the whole thing's carved out of some sort of crystal. It's amazing, really. I don't normally go in for the whole artsy thing, but this is impressive. The hairdo on this mare..."

"Tailspin!" Compass said sharply. "Focus! What stands out about it? Something up there is magic!"

"Uh, yeah, I'm guessing that's the ruby."

"What ruby?"

"It's wearing a necklace. Gold, really fancy-looking. And there's this great big ruby cut like a heart set right in the middle of it. It's massive, it really is. Bigger than my hoof. And it's, uh, glowing. Just a little, but it is. Oh, wait, hold on, there's an inscription at the bottom of the statue."

The pegasus fluttered in, just a bit closer. "It says... 'In Loving Memory Of'... and then it goes all fancy and curly, hold on. Errr... air... 'Rarity'. 'In Loving Memory Of Rarity'. I think this is somepony's-"

That was as far as she got before the rumbling started. It was louder and deeper than before, a subsonic pulsing that shook the ground under their feet and almost caused Compass to collapse. Pith caught her with one hoof and propped her up against his bulk. "Tails," he said flatly, "I think it's time to go."

Then he heard the other sound, and every muscle in his body froze. It was a long, drawn-out, slithering noise, the sound of a half-ton of leathery dragonflesh being moved aside.

The sound of a wing unfolding.

The voice, when it came, was so powerful that he didn't hear it so much as he felt it. Every chord resonated throughout his skeleton, shaking him with every syllable. It was only one word, but that one word was sufficient to cause him to collapse to his knees.

"Rarity?"

2: I Promise

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Pith fought to regain his balance in the midst of the earthquake. It wouldn't have been an easy task even if he had been unencumbered and could see where he was placing his hooves. As it was, with only the light of his helmet lamp to guide him, the heavy equipment in his saddlebags, and the weight of Compass Rose collapsing against his side, it was all he could do to keep from sprawling headlong into the twisted undergrowth.

The heat that had been rolling off the dragon's scales was intensifying now, becoming so all-pervading and powerful that it was closer to a physical presence than mere temperature. It weighed on him as heavily as the saddlebags, pinning him to the earth as he fought for balance.

He could hear Tailspin flying around above him. "Come on, come on!" she hissed. "It's getting up! We've got to go!"

He opened his mouth to answer, but his mouth was too dry to speak. When he lifted his head to look at her, he saw it.

The dragon was standing up.

It had been lying on its stomach with one wing folded over its upper body. Now it was lifting its wing aside. The massive appendage stretched upward and outward from its body, the bones and pleats creaking with a noise like boulders being ground together as they spread. Its sheer size was nearly unbelievable - that one wing was wide enough to cover almost the entire ceiling of the domed clearing.

That didn't hold his attention long, though. The dragon was lifting its head. Its neck was as long as a street, and its teeth were long, jagged, sharp as knives. Even in the dimness of the clearing, they gleamed.

Then it opened one eye, and Pith found himself unable to move a muscle. He froze, somehow, miraculously, remaining upright as he found himself transfixed by a gaze that seemed to nail him to the spot.

The eye, large as a carriage. A green iris, sparkling brilliantly, shining with a sinister, sickly light of its own. The pupil, sharp and cat-like, as tall as he was. And a violent, scorching, unmistakeable rage bubbling up from within that watcher's chest.

"Don't. Touch. That."

Each word was a thunderclap. Pith's ears rang with the force of each syllable. Some part of him registered that Tailspin had been knocked out of the air and was sprawling next to him. He looped his hoof around Compass Rose's shoulders and pulled her in closer, glaring defiantly up at the dragon.

It brought its head closer. He could smell the reeking sulfur on its breath, see the serrated edges of its teeth - see himself, reflected in that shining eye.

"Who," it rumbled, "are you?"


"Promise me you'll wake me if you need me."

Twilight smiled at him through her tears. "I promise. I will. I can't... can't do this without you, you know."

Spike nodded. "I know," he said. He could feel his chest hitching. "I'm sorry, Twilight. I just... I need to get away from all this. Just for a while." He turned and glanced back at the Carousel Boutique, and his eyes flickered up towards the terrace at its peak. He gave Twilight a weak grin. "At least I've got an actual treasure to guard now, right?"

Twilight laughed despite herself. "Yeah," she said. "It's a beautiful statue. And the necklace was a nice touch. I'd expected you to keep it somewhere safer."

The dragon shook his head. "It was hers," he said. "She'd want to keep it with her. And this way nopony will ever forget how beautiful she looked." He blinked rapidly for a few seconds.

Twilight nodded. "Nopony will ever forget any of them," she said firmly. "They're all there, in Canterlot. The stained glass. And in the Crystal Empire. And in... in my castle." She stomped one hoof lightly on the grass. Light glinted off the necklace she was wearing, and off the crown sitting just above her horn. "It's going to be very empty around here without you," she said, after a moment.

Spike didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward and threw both arms around her shoulders. Even his wings unfurled to try and embrace her more fully. "I know," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I just... I need some time." His chest heaved again. "I know you need me," he continued, even more quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just wasn't ready to... let go. Of any of them."

He felt Twilight put one hoof around his shoulders. "I know," she said softly. "I understand. I wish I could do it, too. Just... turn off for a while. Even with Celestia and Luna, and Cadence, it's not easy. And- and anyway." She pushed away from him just far enough to smile again. "It's not like you're actually... leaving. I'll wake you up if I ever need you."

"Promise?" The dragon pulled her even closer, almost crushing the mare against his chest.

She laughed. "Promise," she said. "I promise, I promise, I promise. I won't forget, Spike." Slowly, her smile faded. "I can't forget. It's... it's just you and me left, Spike. You and me, forever. You're all I've got."


He remembered saying goodbye to Twilight and the rest of Ponyville. He remembered lying down in the grass by the house that he had shared with Rarity. He remembered the feeling of the dragon's sleep coming over him, like his mind was turning into fog, more slowly, deliberately, and completely than with any other sleep he had ever experienced.

He remembered the feeling of, for the first time in decades, being free of grief.

He remembered the odd, detached sensations that came with it, as he experienced the years through the wall of mist that shielded his mind. At first, there had been dozens of voices around him, every day. Then they had stopped, and left him alone to slip into a deeper sleep than ever before.

And now, after so long, someone had come back. The tiny noises they made were deafening compared to the unbroken silence of years.

He had expected Twilight standing there, beaming at him in the bright sun of a Ponyville summer. But it wasn't Twilight Sparkle, or anyone else that he knew, and this wasn't Ponyville. He was here, in a dark clearing, surrounded by thorns, and Ponyville was gone. There was no sign of anyone, or anything, except the Boutique - and the trio of newcomers in front of him.

The dragon fixed his gaze on the one that was still trying to stand. It was an earth pony with a tan coat and dark mane, wearing an odd hat with a light fixed onto the front and a pair of heavily-laden saddlebags. Even though the rumbling of Spike's movements was making it impossible for him to stand, the pony still returned his stare solidly.

"Well?"

"Explorers." The earth pony blinked once, slowly. "Not thieves." His voice was a squeak compared to the deafening boom of Spike's own, but still audible over the dull thunder as he shifted around to get a better look.

"And we didn't touch your statue, I swear!" added another. It was the red-coated pegasus mare. She had fallen to the ground during the initial quaking, and was now lying on her back, flailing at the air, trying to regain her footing.

Spike would have laughed, but there were more pressing matters on his mind. He glanced towards the Boutique. Some part of him wanted to rush over and see the truth of his treasure's safety for himself, but even that wasn't the most important thing right now.

He turned back. "Where's Twilight?"

There was silence for a few long seconds. Then the khaki pony said, "Who?"

It was Spike's turn to blink this time. He felt the shudder run through him, along with the familiar creak of his frame shrinking. His control over his size had never been perfect. He would have chosen to shrink down eventually of his own accord, but now the first tremors of fear were making that decision for him. He could feel his wings receding.

"The princess," he rumbled. "Twilight Sparkle. She was supposed to wake me. Where is she?"

The earth pony just returned his stare blankly. "Never heard of her," he grunted.

Spike could feel himself shrinking faster now. The heat he radiated was fading, and his movements no longer shook the earth. "But..." He blinked again. "How can you not- where are we?"

The pegasus managed to get upright again, then moved over to help the other two to their feet. It was the unicorn who spoke, this time. Her expression was almost concerned. "The Tangle."

Spike blinked. He was barely taller than the Boutique now. "The what?"

The three ponies watched as he shrank down the rest of the way. When it ended, he stood at almost exactly the same height as the earth pony. That impressed him - or, at least, the part of him that was still paying attention to little details like that. Even Big Macintosh had been dwarfed by him once he had started to grow. This stallion was massive.

After a moment, the unicorn cleared her throat. "How long," she asked softly, "have you been asleep?"


The inside of the Carousel Boutique was just how he had left it. That was a small comfort, at least. The rest of Ponyville was still gone, he still didn't know where Twilight was, and he had absolutely no idea what was going on, but the familiar sights and smells of his old home helped to soothe his nerves somewhat.

The other three, in contrast, seemed even more nervous than before. They had apparently been prepared to have to run for their lives from a ferocious dragon. What they hadn't been expecting was for said dragon to shrink down to their size, invite them inside, and serve them tea in rather delicate floral-patterned china cups.

Compass Rose, Tailspin, and Pith Helmet. Easy enough to remember. They were apparently exploring the Tangle, whatever that was, which he had somehow ended up in without waking. None of them had any idea how long he had been asleep, what Ponyville had been, or who Twilight Sparkle was.

Spike eased himself into one of the larger chairs at the end of the table. Sweetie Belle had made it for him after he broke the third normal-sized one, and it had held up wonderfully. It didn't make picking up the tiny cups of tea in his talons any easier, though. He managed a tiny sip, then turned his gaze towards Compass Rose again.

The unicorn had her head bowed over the table. More specifically, she had it bowed over a pair of maps. One of them was the one that she had brought with her. That one was largely predominated by the massive black splotch marked "The Tangle". The other was one that Spike had managed to dig out from one of the storage chests in the attic.

She had a look of intense concentration on her face, and her horn was glowing brightly. Around her, pens and geometer's compasses floated and spun as she made comparative marks on the two pieces of parchment.

The pegasus, Tailspin, was fluttering nervously in the air just behind Compass. Pith, on the other hand, was still watching Spike with that same slow, even stare. It made him slightly nervous, even though there wasn't any open hostility in it. More to break the silence than anything, he cleared his throat and said, "So... you're a cartographer."

Compass didn't even look up. "Yes," she said curtly. "Mapping the Tangle. Or part of it, anyway. Looking for a castle. This castle, in fact, if I'm not mistaken." The pen came down and jabbed at the marker on his map that denoted Twilight's palace.

"One of our fliers said that he saw something like a castle down there when he went on a deep scouting trip over it a few weeks ago," Tailspin said. She flapped a little faster when Spike turned to look at her, fluttering up towards the ceiling. She obviously didn't want to get any closer than she had to.

"Nopony'd flown over it before?" Spike tilted his head to the side, a look of confusion spreading over his features.

"Weeeell," answered the pegasus slowly, practically trying to hide in the rafters now, "it's not normally safe to. The vines don't like it. They tend to, uh, snap at ponies flying over. And that's not counting all the manticores and things that want to eat you. Or the changeling flights. They know we can't really scout them over the vines, so they tend to come from-"

Spike cut her off. "Changelings?"

"Uh, yeah," said Tailspin. "They're, like, black, and all full of holes, and they fly in and t-"

"I know what they are." Spike cut across her again, frowning now. "I've seen them before. I was in Canterlot the first time they showed up. But Twilight and Cadence beat Queen, uh, Chrysalis, I think was her name, and they were supposed to be banished. Weren't they?"

The other three were all staring at him with blank expressions on their faces. Even the quills and other tools that Compass had been manipulating had stopped in midair.

He sighed. "Okay, so, you've never heard of any of them either, I'm guessing."

They all shook their heads. He sighed.

"Okay. So. Changelings are back. Twilight, Princess Celestia, Princess Cadence, Ponyville, Canterlot... all gone. And you have no idea how long I've been asleep. Is that right?"

"Not... exactly," said Compass, slowly. She looked down to the maps again. "This map was made last year," she said, pointing to hers with one hoof. "From what I can gather by comparing known landmarks, the Tangle is centered on this area here on yours. The one marked 'Everfree Forest'. It sort of spreads outwards from there in all directions."

"That'd make sense," Spike interjected, nodding. "Those vines outside look like the ones that grew from Discord's plunder s-"

The earth pony let out a low rumble from deep in his chest. "Let the lady finish." His expression was as blank and measured as ever, but there was something in his tone that said that there wouldn't be any arguing on this. Spike sighed and sank back into his chair.

Compass blinked at Pith, then cleared her throat and continued, "Right. Well. The Tangle's growth has been catalogued before. It's still spreading, albeit slowly. It gains about a quarter of a mile in diameter every year, not counting growth spurts when it, um, overtakes something. It's currently about two hundred miles wide. That means, if you fell asleep before the Tangle started up, and assuming it's been growing at about the same rate, you've been asleep for eight hundred years."

Spike gaped at her. "Eight hundred-"

"At least," she added, in a matter-of-fact tone.

The dragon slumped back in his chair. His hearing seemed to have been overtaken by an odd, muted buzzing sound, and his vision swam. He felt light-headed.

Some part of him registered that the three ponies were whispering rapidly to each other. It sounded like they were having an argument, but he wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind around what he'd just been told - and to keep himself from slipping into panic.

Equestria was gone. Ponyville was gone. Everyone he knew was gone. The changelings were back, Discord's seeds had sprouted again, and he was eight hundred years out of his time. Even Twilight had vanished, so thoroughly that nopony even knew her name.

Twilight.

He blinked.

You're all I've got.

"I've got to find someone," he croaked.

3: Carousel Boutique

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Pith Helmet and Tailspin followed the dragon upstairs, leaving Compass Rose to her work at the dining room table.

Not exactly what I expected from a dragon the size of a mountain, Pith thought to himself.

Of course, the dragon wasn't that big any more. He was still bigger than Pith, and looked plenty dangerous, but at least he couldn't crush them under one finger if he wanted to any more. And he seemed friendly enough, if a little odd.

...Okay, more than a little. A dragon who had apparently slept through the growth of the Tangle and talked about ponies and places they had never heard of, and who lived in a decidedly... girly house, surrounded by what looked like pictures of dresses and making tea in floral-patterned china cups. And the whole place still had running water and electricity, for no apparent reason. Magic, presumably.

"So," he said, still watching Spike carefully as he followed the dragon up the staircase, "what is it we're looking for now?"

"Well, you wanted maps." Spike pushed open the door at the top of the stairs and snaked his way through. It was a tight fit - the door had been built for ponies, not dragons - but he managed it. "There are probably a few more in here. You know, showing more than just Ponyville. And the castle might be locked, anyway. Twilight gave me a key for it."

Pith stepped through the door in the dragon's wake, then stopped abruptly, staring. He felt Tailspin push her way up to his side and hiss, "What? What is - oh." Then she lapsed into a fit of giggles that she was quite obviously trying and failing to keep quiet.

It was a bedroom. Frills and lace featured prominently, with a few gems added here and there for accents. Turquoise, violet, and pink were the dominant colors. The lamps had pink shades on them, with lace trimming. And the huge four-poster bed, which was quite obviously made for someone Spike's size with room left over, had a prominent pattern of hearts cut into the wood.

Spike was standing in front of a large walk-in closet, shuffling through its contents with a look of intense concentration. He was obviously looking for something. He just happened to be looking for something in a closet full of extravagant dresses.

Pith elbowed Tailspin in the side to get her to stop sniggering, then walked into the room, eyeing it critically. Now that the initial shock was over, he was studying the actual state of things. The room looked absolutely pristine, as if it had just been cleaned a few moments ago.

"This place has a preservation spell on it," he said, slowly.

Spike didn't look up. "I guess so," he answered. His words were slightly muffled by fabric. "Twilight said she would make sure nothing happened to it while I slept."

Pith felt Tailspin poke him in the side with one hoof. When he turned to look, the pegasus was pointing towards the bedside table. Aside from the pink, frilly lamp, there were two photographs sitting on it in silver frames. He moved in for a closer look.

One of them was much larger than the other. It was a photograph of six mares, all next to each other and smiling for the camera. There was no sign of a purple dragon in it, but Pith had a feeling he knew who was holding the camera.

The other photograph was much smaller, but the frame was more ornate, and it was placed on the edge of the table closest to the bed. There were only two people in this one, and only one was a pony.

It was a picture of the white-coated unicorn mare. She was wearing an extravagant, jewel-coated white dress, but the most eye-catching part of her outfit was the heart-shaped ruby she wore as a necklace. Even in the still image, it shone brilliantly. And, standing next to her, in a tuxedo that had to have been personally made for him, was Spike. Spike was holding one of the mare's hooves in one hand, and both of them beamed at the camera.

"That's the mare from the statue," Tailspin hissed. "That's the same necklace. Pith, I think she was-"

"My wife," said Spike's voice, from just over their shoulders.

Tailspin let out a squeak and leapt into the air again. Pith wanted to spin around and face the dragon again, but he made himself turn slowly instead. Some basic instinct in the back of his brain was shouting that sudden moves in the presence of a dragon, even a dragon who slept in a house full of lace, were a bad idea.

Spike was standing behind Pith, looking somber. He was standing on his back legs, now, which brought him up to almost double the stallion's height. He had a small but ornately-carved chest held between his front claws.

"Your wife." It wasn't really a question. Pith just stared.

Spike shrugged. "Yes," he said. He didn't look embarrassed, or in the least bit reluctant to talk about it. Just sad. "It wasn't a... normal thing, but we made it work. And we were happy."

"But she died," said Tailspin. The pegasus had fluttered back down to the floor now, though she was standing in such a way that Pith's bulk was between her and Spike. "The statue said 'In Loving Memory'."

Spike's look of sadness deepened, and he turned away to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "Everypony dies eventually," he said. He kept his gaze fixed on the box in his talons.

Pith watched as Spike lifted the chest up in front of his scaled snout, pursed his lips, and huffed. A tiny line of green flame wooshed from between his teeth and into a small keyhole. There was a click.

Everypony dies eventually, the earth pony thought. But not you.

He shot Tailspin a wordless look, warning her not to press the issue. She nodded, and the two of them walked forward together to watch as Spike opened the lid of the chest.

It was full of parchment, all of it obviously old, but all of it just as obviously well cared for. There were letters and scrolls, drawings and photographs, all of them carefully arranged so that they wouldn't be inadvertently creased or ripped by movement from the others. The writing on the envelopes said things like Pinkie Pie, Apple Family Reunion and From Scootaloo.

They watched in silence as Spike pulled them out, one by one, and very carefully stacked them on the bed. Down at the very bottom of the chest, there was another, smaller box. This one was barely as wide as one hoof, and only an inch or two thick. Spike grasped it very carefully between two talons and opened it with a soft creak.

Inside, there was a small golden key on a chain, resting in velvet. The dragon plucked it up and held it out towards Pith. "If you want to get into the castle, you'll need this," he said. "Keep it safe. The castle's enchanted so only Twilight or someone with one of these keys can open the doors. She used to keep them open all the time," he added, "but something tells me they probably aren't open now."

Pith nodded and lifted one hoof to accept the key. A moment later, it was safe inside one of his saddlebags, and he was turning back to Spike. The dragon was digging through the scrolls from inside the chest now, unrolling each one carefully and inspecting its contents.

"You still haven't told us who this Twilight is, exactly," he said.

Spike looked up. "Oh." He blinked, then extended a claw towards the photographs on the bedside table again. "She's the unicorn in the group picture. The purple one, not Rarity. Twilight was..." He frowned, apparently unsure how to phrase it. "...She hatched me from an egg. I was her number one assistant." Something about that phrase caused him to break into a wide grin, which exposed a picket fence of razor-sharp teeth. "She was like my big sister, I guess is the best way to put it. And she was a princess."

Tailspin had been inspecting the group photograph again, but she looked up at that. "Princess?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah," he said. "It's kind of hard to explain, now, since you haven't heard of Princess Celestia or Princess Luna. But there were alicorns back then. They were the rulers of Equestria."

He stopped, eyeing the two ponies in confusion. Both Pith Helmet and Tailspin had suddenly drawn closer together, and the stallion's formerly blank stare was suddenly sharp and suspicious.

"What?"

Pith looked him slowly up and down. Something in his expression made it obvious that he was weighing up his chances in a fight.

"We know what alicorns are," he said slowly.

Spike blinked at him. "I'm guessing," he answered, just as slowly, "that they aren't really nice ponies who use their magic to help everyone."

Pith shook his head, but he was, at least, relaxing a bit. "No," he said flatly. "They aren't." The look he turned towards Spike was more curious than alarmed, now. He was waiting for an explanation.

"Well, they were when I was awake before," Spike said, frowning now. "Princess Celestia and Princess Luna took care of the... business side of running Equestria, I guess. They made sure everyone was doing okay and that all the pegasi were getting the rain where it needed to be and everything like that."

He saw the slightly confused look that Tailspin shot towards Pith then, but plunged on regardless. "And Twilight took care of making sure we were safe from stuff like the changelings. She had a big library, full of all the old books she could find on every sort of monster or disaster or bad prophecy or whatever might threaten Equestria, and she made sure we were all safe. They weren't bad."

Pith nodded, slowly, then said, "Well, that's not what they are any more."

Spike stared at the two of them, looking bewildered. It was Tailspin who finally answered the unspoken question.

"There's only one of them now," she said quietly, as she stepped out from behind Pith. "And she's scarier than anything else we know about."

Spike frowned at her. "Who?"

Tailspin swallowed. "The Mare in the Moon."


Pith was the first one downstairs again. When he arrived, he found Compass Rose putting her tools back into her saddlebags, looking satisfied. Her map was still open on the table in front of her, covered in new markings and symbols denoting the locations of old landmarks from Spike's. She gave him a tired, but satisfied, smile.

"Well?" she asked. "I'm finished. Everyone else ready to go?"

Tailspin fluttered down the stairs behind Pith, nodding. "He's coming," she said. "He wanted to be alone before we left, though. He went up to the terrace. I think he's saying goodbye."

Pith nodded and strode over to inspect the map. "He's convinced that, if he can find this Twilight pony, she can fix everything."

Compass raised one eyebrow. "'Fix everything'? What's that supposed to mean?"

Pith shrugged. "Get rid of the changelings, for one. Probably the Tangle, too."

Compass snorted. "Yeah. I'm not getting my hopes up on that score just yet. But I do still want to see this castle."

"If nothing else," came Spike's voice from the stairwell, "you'll be able to take some of the books from the old library. They should be helpful." He snaked his way into view and straightened up. Pith blinked.

Around his neck was an ornate golden necklace, set with a ruby cut into the shape of a heart.

He heard Compass gasp. "That's it," she whispered.

Spike blinked at her. "That's what?"

"That's the magic I was feeling all the way here!" Compass stood up from the table so quickly that she almost knocked it over. "It's the strongest I've ever felt. What is it?"

Spike looked down at the necklace, looking confused. "This? It's... just a necklace. A present I gave Rarity when I was just a kid. I just wanted to take it with me to remember her. It's not magical."

"Yes, it is!" Compass darted up so close to Spike that the dragon actually reared back, looking slightly intimidated. She stared at her reflection in one of the ruby's facets, looking awed. "It's amazing. I don't know what it is. It's too strong to be pony magic, but it feels so... familiar." She looked up at Spike. "You're sure you don't know what it is?"

Spike looked down at her, and realization dawned. "Twilight," he said.

She blinked. "Who?"

"Twilight," Spike repeated. "She must have put a spell on it to keep it safe, after I went to sleep. That must be why this place is still standing." He lifted one talon to tap against the surface of the ruby, gently. "She was an alicorn," he explained. "So it'd be like unicorn magic, but, uh, not quite, I guess."

This time it was Compass' turn to rear up and back away. "Alicorn?"

Spike sighed and gave the other two a sheepish grin. "Yeah," he said. "Alicorn. I already explained this to the other two. Where I come from, they aren't bad. They were good, actually. The biggest good. They raised the sun and the moon, even."

He was aware of a telling silence. Then Pith said, "What do you mean, raise the sun?"


And now Spike was clawing his way upward through the plunder vines, panting heavily. He could hear Tailspin shouting for him to come back, down below, but he didn't answer her. He needed to see this for himself.

He felt the thorns scrape against his scales, felt one of the vines twist slightly and try to seize one of his legs. He shook himself free and forced his way upward again and again, fighting for just one clear view of the sky.

Finally, he broke through the Tangle's top layer and hung there, claws sunk into the vines next to him for grip, tail thrashing from side to side as the panic that filled him threatened to boil over.

The sky was full of dark clouds. He recognized them. They were black and oily, with bluish thorns poking through at odd angles. They pulsed at odd intervals, expanding and contracting, almost like a beating heart. But he wasn't looking at them, really. He was staring past them, up at the wrongness beyond.

Above, the world was suffused with an eerie half-light. The sky was a deep pink, so deep that it edged into purple, like a brilliant sunset. A few stars were visible here and there, twinkling weakly.

And, hanging in the center like two watching eyes, both the sun and the moon hung over Equestria.

4: Everfree

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Pith stamped one hoof against the undergrowth. "He'll come back down in a minute, Tails," he said, staring upward. "He wouldn't just run off on us."

Slowly, the pegasus lowered herself, but her worried expression remained. "He just looked so panicked," she said. "How do you know he isn't just going to leave?"

"'Cause I've got his key in my saddlebags," he answered shortly. "Calm down."

"Why are you so worried about him flying off, anyway?" Compass asked. She wasn't looking at either of them; she had the map hovering in front of her and was studying it by the light from the windows of the house. "He's a dragon. I'm sure he can take care of himself."

Tailspin gave one quick flap, still frowning. "He just woke up, he's alone, he's confused, and he's scared," she said, her voice a bit sharper now. "Even if he can take care of himself, that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to help him." She glanced towards Pith. "I don't think he should just be left alone out here."

Pith nodded. "We'll stick with him," he said. "He'll need help finding what he's looking for, probably."

Compass shrugged, rolled up the map, and floated it back into her saddlebag. "Fine," she said. "Any sign of him up there?"

Even as she asked it, they heard the sound of Spike's scales against the thorns, followed by the rhythmic thump-thump of his wings. A moment later, the dragon came into view, illuminated by Pith's helmet lamp. He was looking somber.

"Sorry about that," he said, as he touched down. "I just... had to see that for myself." He glanced upward again. "Things are worse than I thought."

"I'm guessing things weren't like that before," said Pith. Spike shook his head.

"Nope. Last time it happened, things were bad. Really bad." He sighed and lowered his gaze to the three of them again. "We need to get moving."

Compass nodded. "Do you know the way, then, or do you need the map?"

Spike shrugged. "I used to know the way," he said wryly. "I don't think the vines are gonna make finding it again easy, though."

"Right, then." Compass sighed, and a look of concentration crossed her features for a moment. Her horn flashed, and she turned to point off into the darkness with it. "That way."

Pith nodded and stepped forward. He heard the other two fall into step behind him, followed by the slightly different, more metallic sound of Spike walking at the rear. As they neared the edge of the clearing, and Pith started to shove his way between the vines again, he heard the dragon say, "I'm impressed that you can even get your magic to work in here. I thought plunder vines messed with unicorn horns."

"They do," Compass answered, as she picked her way over the treacherous footing underhoof. The ground here was littered with dead branches and half-buried stones. It would be easy to fall, if not careful. "Or anyway," she continued, "they do when you're near the edge, where it's more... awake, I guess. The vines here don't move much. The closer you get to the outside, the worse it gets. If you get too close to the edge of the Tangle outside, it's not pretty."

"Then how'd you get in?" Spike asked. Pith was only half-listening. One of his hooves had come up to retrieve his machete again, and he was busy hacking through some bracken that was blocking their path.

It was Tailspin who answered. "That'd be Pith," she said brightly. The earth pony paused for a moment when he heard his name, then sighed and went back to clearing the way for the rest. "He's one of the best we've got for stuff like this. He practically lives out here." A pause. "Well, uh, places like this. Obviously he doesn't live in the Tangle."

Pith paused again, sighed, and called over his shoulder, "You're selling yourself short again."

Tailspin laughed, and Pith turned away again. At least she seemed to be loosening up around the dragon. She was always nervous when things started up. He preferred her like this, chatty and casual. "Right," she was saying. "And me. We're partners, most of the time. He knows pretty much everything you'd ever want to know about plants and things. Most animals, too. Between the two of us, we can usually get through the outside without too much trouble. The vines are tough, but you can-"

Pith tuned them out. For the next ten minutes, he was content to let the other three chatter as they pleased while he made sure that the path was clear. The extent of his conversation with the rest was an occasional check-in with Compass to make sure they were still on the right track.

Around them, the vines seemed to be getting thicker, and the darkness was pressing in on every side. If they got lost in this, there would be almost no chance of finding their way out again. And in the shadows, it was almost impossible to see if anything was watching them.

There were dangerous creatures in the Tangle. Cockatrices, manticores, timberwolves...

Something crunched underfoot.

...and worse.

He looked down. The light of his helmet lamp glistened off something black that had caked over the ground. It looked like some sort of tar that had solidified. It had an almost resin-y quality. The crunching sound had been it cracking slightly under the weight of his hoof.

He spun on the spot and hissed at the others to be quiet, then motioned for Tailspin to come forward. She wormed her way through the vines toward him, then scowled when she spotted the black substance.

They looked at each other, then nodded once each. Pith turned and jerked his head towards the other two. "Stay quiet," he whispered.

Spike and Compass were frowning now, too. "What is it?" Compass hissed. "We're almost there. Why have we stopped?"

Pith pointed down. "Changelings."


Now the four of them were creeping through the tiny gaps in the vines in complete silence. Tailspin was acting as a rear guard, watching for any signs of pursuers. Pith had put away his machete again. The sound of his chopping through the plant life was too loud to risk. Between them, Spike and Compass Rose were doing their best to avoid making any noise whatsoever.

He wished that he could turn off his helmet lamp. In the sudden, tense sharpness of the perpetual gloom in the Tangle, it seemed blindingly strong. He was certain that they could be seen for miles around. But it was the only way they would be able to move forward, and none of them had even voiced the option of turning back. Spike, he was certain, wouldn't even consider it.

The vines here were showing more and more signs of changeling habitation. The black resin that they secreted covered most of the trees, and large pools of it had collected on the forest floor itself. It hung from the vines like stalactites, and glistened, beetle-black, whenever their helmet lamps shone on it.

Pith stopped and turned to let the others catch up. As they drew up to him, Tailspin gave him a quizzical look, but he ignored it for now. He looked to Spike instead.

"This castle," he muttered. "What're the odds the changelings haven't gotten inside?"

The dragon snorted, and there was a brief flare of green flame in the darkness. "Twilight put her best spells on that castle," he answered. His voice was a low rumble. "Nopony gets in without that key."

Pith scowled, but nodded. "Fine," he said. "I'm trusting you on this. But is there anything else we should know about this place?"

Spike furrowed his brow for a moment, apparently thinking. "There's a gorge around it," he said, after a moment. "Only one way across. Twilight had a bridge built across it. Stone and magic. Strong stuff. Should still be there."

Pith cast his eyes upward, scanning the vines and resin overhead. Leaves rustled in the distance. "So you're telling me," he said slowly, "that we've got to cross a single, very obvious point to get to this place."

Spike blinked. "Uh. Yeah." He snorted again. "But, in my defense, I didn't know there were changelings here before."

Pith opened his mouth to speak again, but Tailspin cut across him. "Relax, Pith," she hissed. "We've avoided them so far. We don't even know if they're watching the bridge. If nopony can get in, maybe nopony has come out, and they've stopped paying attention to it."

Pith grunted, but gave a reluctant nod. Once again, he lifted his head to look upwards. He was certain he could hear rustling, closer now than before, but he couldn't see any signs of movement. "Right." He turned away again. "Let's get there quick, then. Hanging out here more than we've got to isn't a good idea."


More and more resin. Now the ground was entirely covered with it, and if he wasn't careful to step lightly, Pith found his hooves being greeted with a quiet crunch every time he set them down again. The vines and thorns were covered with it. The four of them walked together through a world that consisted of nothing but chitinous blackness and the pools of pale illumination from their helmet lamps.

Tailspin was the next one to speak. She had made her way up next to him now, and spoke in hushed tones too quiet for anyone else to hear.

"No changelings."

Pith nodded, then glanced back towards the other two, bathing them in yellow light again. Compass had one hoof outstretched, feeling ahead of herself for any unseen obstructions. Spike just blinked in the light, his pupils sharpening to slits again.

"Not complaining," he murmured. "Should be in back. Compass."

Tailspin nodded, and started to move back to the rear of the group just as he turned forward again. He took one step and felt his gut lurch as he pitched forward. There was no ground, just a yawning chasm - and the vines.

It was Compass who caught him. The mare had jumped forward and wrapped both of her forelegs around his waist, pulling back hard just before he went headlong into the abyss. "Careful!" she yelped. "The gorge!"

Pith fought to regain his balance on its edge, then turned to the unicorn and panted, "Thanks." He glanced back towards the cliff. For a moment, he wondered how he hadn't seen it. Then he realized that it was just as black as the rest of the forest, and the vines were still there, still covered in resin. They grew up out of the gorge in thick cables, just as pervasive there as anywhere else. Even with the helmet lamp pointed straight at it, even knowing it was there, it almost managed to be invisible.

"Keep your voices down," hissed Tailspin. She was fluttering nervously in the air again, despite the lack of room to move. Her eyes were cast upwards, scanning the darkness for signs of movement. "They'll hear."

"Actually," said Spike, also looking up, "I don't think they will." The rest of them gave him a confused look, and he shrugged. "Look," he continued, tapping one talon against the forest floor, "I don't know about you, but I've noticed that we aren't really being all that quiet to begin with. Three ponies and a dragon, moving around between vines and thorns that usually have less than three feet between them, with crunchy stuff underfoot... I mean, we'd be pretty obvious even if you didn't have the lights." He pointed at their helmet lamps. "I don't think there's anypony here to hear us."

Pith frowned. The thought had crossed his mind. "Maybe," he said slowly. He straightened up. "Whether or not they knew we were here before, they know now. We just shouted loud enough to wake up the whole Tangle. Let's get to this castle, fast. Where's this bridge?"

"Map," muttered Compass. She retrieved it from her saddlebag, then moved up to stand next to Pith to use his helmet lamp as a light. He watched her stare at the page for a moment, then scrunch her face up in concentration as she cast her spell again. Then she pointed off to the right. "That way."


It didn't take them long to find the bridge. It was still intact, at least, but it didn't look particularly sturdy. It was wide enough for two carts to cross at the same time, but it somehow managed to look delicate in spite of that, with guard rails that looked more ornamental than anything.

It might have been beautiful, once. Now, it was overgrown with the thick vines of the Tangle. They twisted over its surface and through the arches on the guard rails, and the whole thing was covered in the black resin that marked it as changeling territory. From a certain angle, it looked as though the vines were the tentacles of some great beast looming up from out of the chasm, frozen in the act of seizing the bridge to drag it down into the depths.

Spike scowled when he saw it. "This place used to be gorgeous," he said. "Now look at it."

"Looks just like everything else to me," said Compass, as she put one hoof onto it. She pressed down tentatively, with the air of one unsure of whether or not it would actually take their weight.

"That's my point."

"Let's just get across," said Pith flatly. He strode onto it, leading the way once again. "The castle isn't far from here, right?"

"No," said Spike. "Not far." He followed the earth pony onto the span, rumbling his disapproval as he did so. After a moment, he added, "It smells like rot here."

Pith sniffed. "Smells fine to me."

"Well, not here, exactly," said the dragon. "Down there." He strode to the edge of the bridge, snaking his way over the vines that lay across it, and pointed into the gorge. "It reeks."

Pith shrugged and kept walking forward. It was slow going, with the vines criss-crossing the bridge at all angles and the footing made uneven by the hardened resin. Behind him, he heard Compass ask, "What's down there, anyway?"

"That used to be where the Tree of Harmony was," Spike answered. There was a moment's silence, a sigh, and then, "A magic tree. It kept all these vines from growing. But I'm guessing it's not there any more." He paused again. "I guess that means this is where all these vines started growing, too."

There was the sound of a quill scratching on parchment. Pith didn't even have to turn around to know that Compass was adding another marker to her map. Then she said, "And you really think that you'll find this Twilight pony at this castle."

Another silence, longer this time. Pith clambered bodily over a particularly thick vine, slipped slightly at the top, and only just managed to keep himself from falling head-first down the other side.

"Not really," Spike said. "I wish I could say I did, but with how bad everything is, it's obvious that she isn't able to help right now. She won't be anywhere normal, or safe. But this was her castle, and she wrote everything down. There might be something there that tells us where she went."

"Will you hurry up?" Pith called over one shoulder. He stepped off the other end of the bridge and came to a halt, waiting. As he stood, he found his eye drawn to the chasm again. Something about it made it difficult to look away. Perhaps it was a trick of his eyes, but the vines in it might have been twisting and moving, the same way they did at the very edges of the Tangle. Some part of him wondered if they were still growing down there.

Spike's claws landed on the ground beside him with a series of sharp clicks. "Right," said the dragon sharply. "Not far. Stick with me - I know the way." He jerked his head, indicating that Pith should follow, and strode off into the darkness.


And now there was the castle in front of them. It was hard to make out more than the vaguest outlines in the darkness, and even they could only be guessed at. The castle itself was almost entirely buried under a mass of vines. Up above, at the very edge of his helmet lamp's area of illumination, Pith could just barely make out the shape of a statue. What it was a statue of, he couldn't tell. Parts of it had been crushed and snapped off; bits of jagged, broken stone were visible here and there through the vines that had seized it and twisted it apart.

Like they're choking it to death, he thought.

But ahead of them, the double doors were still standing. The wide staircase leading up to them was covered in resin and vines, but the doors themselves stood clear from the rest. They were massive, taller than most houses Pith had seen, and almost as wide. Painted on the surface was an image of two alicorns, one white and one black, with the sun and the moon over their heads. The images weren't even scratched.

Spike was grinning again, sitting on his back legs in front of the doors and beaming at the rest. "See?" he said. "Told you. Nobody gets in without the key. The vines can go over it all they want, but they can't get in."

Compass was gaping up at the pictures. "This is amazing," she breathed. "I can't believe this place is actually still standing. I expected to find ruins, not an actual intact castle."

Spike puffed up his chest. "Twilight Sparkle was the greatest spell-weaver in Equestria," he said proudly. "She built her spells to last. Pith, do you still have the key?"

Pith lowered his gaze from the statue, then nodded and retrieved the key from his saddlebags. He picked his way over the vines on the staircase to stand in front of the doors, then blinked.

"Uh," he said. "There's no keyhole."

Spike laughed. "Of course not," he said, still grinning. "It's magic. Just touch the door with the key."

Pith shrugged, glanced down at the key, and turned his hoof to press it against the wood.

There was a rumble like an earthquake, and the doors began to swing inward. Spike didn't even wait for them to finish swinging open. He just strode through, right past Pith, grinning like a maniac. "Come on," he said brightly as he passed. "The library's this way."

Pith waited for Compass and Tailspin to go in before he moved. He stood on the castle steps for a moment longer, looking up at the vines that choked the castle. Then he looked around, towards the chasm and the resin-covered bridge.

Some part of him thought that it heard rustling close by, but there was no sign of anything moving.

Slowly, he turned and followed the rest inside.

5: Castle Twilight

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In a way, stepping into the castle was coming home.

Spike had been right about the vines not being capable of breaching the protective spells around it. The entrance hall was clear of any of Discord's plunder vines, and the resin that the changelings had left outside stopped at the doorway. It was still intact and unspoiled.

In another way, stepping into the castle was a punch in the gut.

Princess Celestia had renamed the Castle of the Two Sisters in Twilight's honor and given it to her to use as her own. Before the last of their friends had passed away, Twilight had stayed there only occasionally, preferring her home in the Ponyville library. After Applejack's funeral, though, and the realization that she and Spike were the only ones from their original circle of friends left, she had moved into the castle full-time.

Spike had only asked her why she chose to move once, when she first announced her intentions. Her expression had told him everything.

Even if it had been grief that had brought Twilight to her castle, she had turned it into a place of light and happiness. Spike remembered helping their friends to straighten the place up, and how Twilight had taken their efforts as inspiration for the changes she made later. The castle grounds had become an animal sanctuary. The halls had been decorated with extravagant tapestries depicting all of their friends during the most memorable moments of their lives. Every Nightmare Night, the castle played host to the most well-loved "haunted tours" in Equestria. And, of course, there were the weekly concerts performed on the Organ to the Outside, where ponies came not so much to listen to the music as to try and find out exactly what mechanisms were linked to which notes.

Castle Twilight had become one of Equestria's most beloved features. The path Twilight had made through the Everfree Forest had been well-traveled, and Ponyville had thrived with the attention it brought. With the attention he brought, for that matter. Having a dragon living in the castle brought in even more visitors who wanted to see him with their own eyes.

But it wasn't like that any more. Whatever preservation spell Twilight had placed on Carousel Boutique, she hadn't done the same for the castle. The Tangle had been kept outside, but the doors couldn't keep out time.

While Twilight had lived here, the entrance hall had always been kept brightly lit by the ornate crystal chandeliers overhead, and the stone had been kept clean and smooth. Now, the air was musty and dank, and the stink of mold filled Spike's nostrils. The stones underfoot were uneven and cracked, covered in moss and fungus. The chandeliers were unlit, leaving the four of them in the dark. And the tapestries that Twilight had always been so proud of were moth-eaten and unraveling.

Spike felt his grin fading as he walked into the foyer. Some part of him had been expecting this, he knew. But the rest of him had been hoping, and that part was hurting now.

Behind him, he heard the sound of hoofsteps on stone. Compass Rose was the first of the three ponies to enter, with Tailspin fluttering along behind. The pegasus had an excited, curious look on her face. Compass just gaped.

Her eyes flashed from the marble columns to the chandeliers to the tapestries. She trotted over to the nearest one and stared up at it in amazement.

"This is unbelievable," she said. "It's got to be at least three yards wide. How high up does it go?" She craned her neck, trying to see into the darkness near the ceiling, where Tailspin's helmet lamp couldn't reach.

Spike smiled slightly. "All the way," he said, moving over to stand beside her. "This is one of the ones that was here before Twilight moved in. It's Princess Celestia raising the sun. There's one of Princess Luna across the hall."

"It's beautiful," Compass said. She lifted one hoof to touch the very bottom of the tapestry. Spike saw that the intricately-woven border was more than a little frayed, and winced.

"I'll say!" came Tailspin's voice from above. The pegasus was flying in circles around the ceiling now. With her helmet lamp shining on them, the cobwebs and tarnish on the chandeliers were plainly visible, but she didn't seem to care. "This place is incredible." She paused, hovering in midair, and studied the pattern of light refracting through the crystal. "I can't believe all this was in the Tangle."

"Pretty, yeah," came Pith Helmet's voice from behind them. Spike turned. The earth pony was walking up towards the rest of them, still frowning. "But let's not stay long. Find the library, get whatever books we want, check for this Twilight pony, and leave, right?" He cast a glance over his shoulder, towards the open doors. "Hanging out in changeling territory isn't a good idea, even if they don't seem to be here right now."

Spike sighed, then nodded. "Right," he said. "You're right. Let's keep moving."

"Wait, wait, wait." Compass Rose was withdrawing another scroll from her saddlebags, along with a quill. "While we're walking. Who are the ponies on all these tapestries? They can't all be the same two."

"They're not," said Spike, as he turned to lead the way into the castle's halls. "There are a couple of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, and a few of Twilight as well. There's also one of Princess Cadence, and one of, uh, what I guess the artist thought Starswirl the Bearded looked like. The rest are of... well, of our friends."

Pith's helmet lamp swung around, illuminating another of the tapestries. This one was a brilliant blue, and featured a pegasus mare with a rainbow mane flying through the clouds, a stylized lightning bolt behind her. It was, Pith realized, one of the ponies from the photograph on Spike's bedside table.

"Your friends?" Compass sounded confused. "So she just put pictures of her friends all over her castle?"

Spike laughed and twisted his neck around to grin at the unicorn over his shoulder. "Yep," he said brightly. "But it helps that they saved the world a couple times."

Compass blinked at him. "Saved the world?"

"Yeah." Spike turned back and led the way further into the hall, towards one of the large archways leading into the other wings of the castle. His talons clicked audibly on the stone floor with each step. "They were great friends. The best anypony could ever ask for. But they also had some special... talents..."

He trailed off, standing just a few yards away from the archway, and felt his jaw drop open. The rest drew up next to him. Through the haze of shock that was filling his brain, he heard Pith say, "I'm guessing this one was added after you went to sleep," and he nodded mutely in answer.

Over the archway was another tapestry, large and intricate even by the standards of the rest. It would have stood out even if it weren't for its size, though, due to the image upon it. The rest featured their subjects in poses of triumph and happiness. This one did not.

On this tapestry, the dominant colors were red, black, and a sickly, acidic green. A huge, twisting cloud of them filled the edges of the image, with thick, ropy tendrils of them reaching inward, as if grasping for the center - or, rather, reaching for the white-coated unicorn featured in the center of it. She was standing on her hind legs, eyes shut, and horn shining with power. Above her, a gem cut in the shape of a heart floated, blazing with brilliant light.

She looked... strong. Beautiful. Dignified. But the image also featured her weeping, and something about the tendrils of violent colors closing in about her made it clear that this was not a happy story.

"Isn't that... Rarity?" It was Tailspin's voice. The pegasus had taken off again, and was flapping her way up towards the tapestry. "But this looks like..."

Spike shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to come back to reality. "Yes," he said, unable to keep his voice from becoming clipped and cold. "That's Rarity. I told you, she saved Equestria." Then, abruptly, he dropped his gaze to the hallway ahead, hunched his shoulders slightly, and set off again. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. "The library's this way."


The library was as dusty and cobwebbed as Spike had expected. The old wooden shelves had started to rot away, and many of them had toppled over as the stones in the floor through the years. Most of the books had started to wear away as well. But it had distracted Compass Rose and Tailspin from asking any questions about Rarity, at least. It wasn't something he liked to talk about. Even if there was no sign of Twilight yet, knowing that the two mares were preoccupied with digging through the old tomes was a weight off his mind.

Pith didn't seem to be particularly eager to start questioning him as they wandered deeper into the library. Or, to be more accurate, Pith didn't seem particularly eager to start questioning him about Rainbow Dash and Rarity and the rest. He was more concerned with the details of the castle.

"So there's an organ in the basement that controls the secret passages," the pony was saying now. "And a hidden reading room. Anything else?"

Spike stopped as he reached a small metal chair sitting in the middle of an intersection. The table was gone, and the chair was rusted and tarnished, but at least it was still here. He extended one claw and tilted it back delicately. A moment later, he was rewarded by the sound of grinding stone as two of the remaining intact bookcases slid aside, revealing the door to Twilight's reading room.

"There's a lot of stuff," Spike answered. "But I don't remember all of it. Twilight kept a copy of the full castle map in here somewhere, though, in case she ever needed it." He strode in, squinting in the dim light from Pith's helmet lamp. In the distance, he could hear Compass calling out to Tailspin - something about no, not that one, the other one, the big one on the top shelf.

Pith stepped in after him, filling the room with just enough light to see by. Like the rest of the castle, the reading room had fallen victim to dust and wood rot. In the past, Twilight and Spike had spent countless nights in here, reading through reports and books and cataloguing and, ha, triple-checking checklists to make sure that they hadn't missed anything when double-checking. That memory brought a bit of a smile to his face, but only for a moment.

It was obvious that Twilight, wherever she was now, hadn't been here in decades. Possibly centuries. As he surveyed the dilapidated bookshelves, he suddenly felt very alone.

Then his gaze alighted upon something sitting on a small table by the side of the couch, and he found himself grinning uncontrollably. "Yes!" he exclaimed, leaping forward. "Perfect! I didn't expect her to leave this here. This is perfect."

He held it up triumphantly. It was a small, blue book, shut with an ornate clasp and lock. Pith eyed it blankly for a moment.

"It's our old journal," Spike explained, catching sight of his expression. He lowered the book and clutched it to his chest protectively. "Twilight and the rest wrote down everything important that happened to them in here. I even wrote a few entries myself. If there's any clue as to where Twilight is, it's probably in here." He barely restrained himself from laughing.

Pith just nodded slowly. "Right," he said. "That's great. Now, that map you were talking about? I don't want to be wandering around a castle full of trap doors and secret passages that I don't know anything about."

Spike blinked. "Oh, right." He strolled over to one of the bookshelves and pulled a thin book off of it. It wasn't a book, exactly - it was more a collection of sheets that had been bound together with string, obviously hand-drawn and -written. "This is it," he said, offering it to Pith. "All the stuff Twilight found out about this castle, she wrote down here. There's maps, notes, everything."

Pith nodded again, then moved forward to accept it silently. "Is that all you want from here, then?" he asked.

Spike's grin faded again, and he shook his head slowly. "Not exactly," he said. "So long as we're here, I want to check Twilight's quarters. There might be something else there." He inclined his head towards the doorway. "You can stay with Tailspin and Compass, though. They'd be calmer if they knew you were in the area."

Pith grunted. "If you say so," he answered. He lifted a hoof and withdrew something from his saddlebag - a torch, Spike realized after a moment. "You'll need this."

Spike accepted it with his free hand, grinned again, and nodded. "Thanks." He took a deep breath, lifted the torch up to his mouth, and let out a small burst of flame that set it alight. Then he nodded, looking satisfied. "I shouldn't take long. I'll be back in less than an hour."

"If you say so," Pith repeated. He paused for a moment, looking as though he was going to say something else, but didn't. Instead, he just said, "We'll be waiting for you."


We held Applejack's funeral today.

Spike held the torch in his tail as he walked along the hallways of the castle. His hands were occupied with the journal as he flipped rapidly through its pages, looking for the last entry. He had started by looking at the last page in the book, but it was blank. So were the twenty before that, and several more before that. Twilight had never filled out the remaining space. That worried him.

I don't even really know what to write here. Or who I'm writing it to. First Rarity, then Fluttershy. Rainbow. Pinkie. And now Applejack. It hasn't even been a week and already I feel like I can't take it any more.

He turned the page, blinking rapidly. He'd read it before, but the words still hurt.

I've moved into the castle in the Everfree-

Celestia has asked me to-

A swarm of parasprites-

Spike wants to go to sleep.

He stopped on that last entry, staring. Those were the only words on the page.

It took him a long time to turn to the next.

Celestia is dead. Luna followed her shortly after.

Spike felt as though his spine had turned to ice. He felt his heart beating faster, felt his breath start to come in short gasps. Dead? How? He stared at the empty whiteness that followed that sentence, willing an explanation to appear, but it didn't. And, in the back of his head, he heard Twilight saying "I promise."

Why didn't you wake me?

He turned the page again, slowly, dreading what he would find, but unable and unwilling to stop.

This will be the last entry I ever make into this journal.

My name is Twilight Sparkle. As of one year ago this day, I am sole ruler and protector of the land of Equestria. Princesses Celestia and Luna left the care of its citizens in my hooves.

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I became truly alone.

My entire life has been a series of funerals. I have watched as, one by one, my friends have left me. First was Rarity, who gave her life so that others might live. The rest came later, but I lost them all the same. Even though I had the opportunity to say my goodbyes, the pain remains. Even Princess Celestia and Princess Luna eventually fell to Nightmare Moon's return.

Spike looked up from the page, scanning the darkness around him. The shadows suddenly seemed deeper, the air a little cooler. He hunched his shoulders, causing the scales on his back to scrape together lightly, and shivered before turning his eyes back to the page.

And now Princess Cadence, my last remaining friend, has been slain. King Sombra has returned, and the Crystal Empire has been conquered.

I am writing this as I prepare to remove the Elements of Harmony from their resting place in the Tree of Harmony. I wish that there were another way, but I will need their power if I am to defend Equestria. I have placed spells around Spike to ensure that he will not be harmed, at least, and Ponyville has been evacuated.

Spike, if you ever read this, I love you. And I am sorry that I did not wake you. Please, forgive me. At least I know that, as long as you are asleep, you are safe.

As long as you sleep, I won't have to lose you, too.

Spike blinked rapidly, fighting to keep back a sob. He snapped the journal shut and clutched it to his chest again, then leaned against the wall and struggled for control of himself.

But I didn't want to lose you either, Twilight.

His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps now, and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks despite himself. He wiped them off with one claw, straightened up, and forced his breathing to return to normal.

Wherever you are now, I'll find you. I promise.

Spike shifted the journal to hold it under one arm and set off into the castle again. He had spent decades there before falling asleep, and he knew the place inside and out, aside from the traps. Nobody had ever tried to use them on him after he started to grow, and he was too big to fit through most of the secret passages. But he knew enough to be able to find Twilight's living quarters, even when navigating by the flickering, unsteady light of his torch.

His mind was already flickering through possibilities. Nightmare Moon had come back, though Twilight hadn't given left any hints about when on that score. Presumably Twilight had... defeated her after Celestia failed to do so, and that was why Luna wasn't around any more, either. If Twilight had somehow managed to banish Nightmare Moon like Celestia had done before, that would explain why the ponies now still had legends about the Mare in the Moon.

But then... Sombra. Spike shuddered again, and tried to fight off the sudden swell of memories that rose up in the darkness. He had seen the Dark King twice before. The first time, he had just been a baby. The second...

He shook his head rapidly, forcing the thought out of his mind. That wasn't what was important. If Sombra had returned for a third attack on Equestria, and Twilight had taken the Elements of Harmony from the Tree to face him... well, it explained a lot.

It just didn't do so in a way that he liked.

If Twilight had been victorious, she would have returned the Elements of Harmony to the Tree, and the Tangle would never have grown. If Twilight had still been around when the changelings returned, she would have forced them out before they ever became a threat. If Twilight had remained as ruler of Equestria, everypony would know her name.

If she had tried to fight King Sombra and lost...

Don't think of that, he told himself sharply. She's okay. She's got to be okay.

Or maybe you're just not ready to admit that you've lost another friend.

"No," he snarled. He hadn't meant to actually say it out loud, but the word escaped him in an angry hiss, accompanied by a flare of green flame.

In the brief flash of light, something glistened on the walls.

He blinked. No, it couldn't be. Not changelings, here. They couldn't have gotten inside.

But there it was. He moved forward, and the light of his torch illuminated the same resin coating that he had seen before. As he watched, some of it oozed slightly downward on the stone.

The dragon hesitated. Part of him wanted to keep moving forward. Twilight's quarters were just up ahead. Even though he knew the danger, he couldn't stop a large part of himself from wanting to try and find anything else to hint about where she was before turning back. But there was more at stake here than his own safety. Pith Helmet, Compass Rose, and Tailspin were all back in the library, unaware of any danger. They needed to be warned.

He turned.


The Organ to the Outside was massive, almost the size of a house, with huge, twisting brass pipes that reached almost to the ceiling of the cavernous hall in which it was kept. Pith Helmet approached it slowly, casting aside his hat as he did so. It hit the stone floor with a sharp crack, and the light flickered out.

In the darkness, he smiled and approached the keys. As he mounted the staircase leading up to the organ, he twisted his back, letting his too-heavy saddlebags fall to the floor. With each step he took, a little something changed about his appearance. His smile vanished, replaced by a wicked, fanged grin. His mane retracted into his flesh as his fur faded, replaced by beetle-black chitin. A pair of insectile wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. His brown eyes were replaced with glittering, acid-green orbs.

The changeling placed the notes that Spike had given to it on the music stand, stretched its scarred legs once, then began to play.

Above, in the hallway leading to Twilight Sparkle's old quarters, a wall shifted to close the path in front of Spike.

6: The Music Of The Night

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"Did you hear that?"

Tailspin couldn't manage more than a grunt in answer. Not only were her forelegs weighed down by a stack of books nearly as tall as she was, she was holding another one in her teeth. It was a heavy load, yes, but she could manage it. She just couldn't manage it and talk at the same time.

She flapped a little harder, bringing herself up and over the top of the bookshelves, and flew over towards Compass Rose. The unicorn had set up a sort of base camp in the center of the library; one of the relatively un-rotted planks of wood had been propped up on a piles of some of the less interesting and more heavily damaged books, making a crude table, and a lantern from Tailspin's saddlebags was acting as a lamp. All the rest of the available surface area was covered in open books. In fact, there were books piled up all around the table as well - Compass had been calling out for more and more tomes to sort through, without pause, since they had arrived.

Tailspin spat out the one that she had been holding in her mouth and dumped the rest unceremoniously onto one of the piles on the table. It creaked in protest. She ignored it.

"Hear what?"

Compass had her back to Tailspin. She was facing one of the jumbled piles on the floor, horn shining, floating books through the air in front of her one at a time. Each one then got tossed into one of two smaller, but rapidly growing, piles to either side.

"Oh, nothing," she said, not pausing in her sorting. "It sounded sort of like music, but I guess it was just this place creaking."

Tailspin nodded and looked upward. The high, domed ceiling of the library was too far away for her helmet lamp to reach. It looked like they were standing in the middle of a sea of ink, with a small bubble of light around them. "Yeah. This place is creepy."

"Creepy? Are you kidding?" Compass actually paused to shoot a surprised look at Tailspin over one shoulder. "This place is amazing. Look at all these books! There's so much here. So much lost knowledge."

Tailspin half-lowered both eyelids. "Uh-huh. Lost knowledge, right." She fluttered over to one of the piles that Compass was tossing books into and peered at it with an air of detached interest. "So what's in this pile?"

"Those are the ones that I have judged important enough to take back with us," said Compass, turning back to her sorting. A rather large book thudded into the pile just in front of Tailspin, barely missing the tip of her nose. She reared up and frowned at the back of the unicorn's head.

"Are you kidding?" she said. "This pile is huge. There's no way we'll be able to carry all of these."

The unicorn scoffed. "Well, I'm certainly not going to leave them here. These are priceless!"

"Yeah, but you're not the one who's going to have to carry them," Tailspin pointed out.

"I'm sure you'll manage," said Compass. Her voice was going distant, and her gaze was locked on the stream of books floating past her.

Tailspin huffed. "Fine. You'll just have to fetch any others you want yourself, then." And she fluttered down to curl up on one of the other piles, frowning.

It was several seconds before Compass blinked and seemed to come back to earth. "Excuse me, what?" She blinked again, still not looking away from the books.

"I said," Tailspin answered, not lifting her head, "that you'll have to fetch the rest yourself, then."

There was a moment's silence. Then Compass sighed and let the books fall back to the ground with series of quiet thuds. "I must be letting all this get to my head," she muttered. Then she raised her voice and said, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

Compass turned. Tailspin was still curled up on one of the piles of books, but now her head was raised, and she was looking around at the rest of the library, frowning.

"I said," Compass repeated, more slowly, "I'm sorry. I'm very grateful that you two let me come along here. I know I've been a burden. I just got... overexcited, with all of these books."

Tailspin didn't even look at her. The pegasus' ears were perked up and twitching, and her eyes were swiveling this way and that, as if searching for something in the gloom. Then she stood up and slid down the pile of books to the floor, ending up next to Compass.

"Apology accepted," she muttered, her voice so low that it was barely audible. "Now listen hard. Do you hear anything?"

Compass blinked, then shut her eyes. The library was mostly silent. There wasn't much to listen to. There was the sound of her own heartbeat, and her own breath. Then there was Tailspin beside her, a quiet, even breathing accompanied by the soft rustle of tiny wing movements. There was the tiny, rapid fluttering noise of the flame in the lantern, and occasionally, at the very edge of audible noise, the sound of wood or stone creaking.

"Do you hear it?" Tailspin's voice was a tiny whisper in her ear.

Compass was about to shake her head when the other sound reached her ears. It was fleeting, barely audible and only so for a moment, but it was there: a brief, high-pitched series of notes, like half a melody. And, barely a second later, a brief buzzing, like an insect's wings.

She opened her eyes and nodded slowly. Tailspin was still staring around at the darkness of the library. She didn't look nervous, like she had when Spike had woken, and she didn't look confused, either. Her expression was set into a stony blankness that made the unicorn think of Pith. She was thinking, hard.

Finally, the pegasus said, still in that same whisper, "Those are changeling wings. They're getting closer."

Compass felt herself shudder involuntarily. "So what do we do?" she hissed, feeling the panic rise. "I don't want to get dragged off to the nest."

"Keep your voice down." Tailspin's voice was sharp and commanding, but calm, and still quiet. The pegasus was withdrawing a machete, nearly as large as the one Pith was always swinging around, from her saddlebags. "They know where we are, but they don't know we know yet, or they'd be attacking."

Her eyes swiveled from side to side again, studying their surroundings intently. They fixed on the lantern. "Open that up," she said sharply. "We'll need the light."

"Are you crazy?" Compass stared at her, open-mouthed. "They'll see us!"

"They'll see us anyway," Tailspin answered, still calm. "They can see in the dark. Light just evens the playing field. Get the lantern and get ready to run. We're going for the entrance hall. If you make it and I don't, try to find Pith or the dragon. If you meet me or Pith, confirmation phrase is 'my favorite food is sherbert'. Ready?"

Compass could see the pegasus spreading her wings, staring upward, preparing for takeoff. She could feel her own legs tensing as well, but they seemed to want to root themselves to the stone rather than make any sort of mad, heroic dash. She forced herself to nod anyway.

"Try to act normal as long as you can," Tailspin whispered. "As soon as it starts, though, don't stop for anything. Just run." She tilted her head towards the lantern. "Go."

The five steps to her makeshift table took more effort than anything else Compass had ever done in her life. Each one seemed to last an eternity, and the soft sound of her hooves striking the stone echoed inside her head until each one was as loud as an avalanche. She could hear Tailspin fluttering into the air behind her, presumably trying for the advantage of height. Ahead of her, the light of the lantern seemed blindingly strong. Finally, after six centuries of walking, she reached it and leaned in, searching for the little knob that controlled the strength of the flame.

It was then that she saw the light reflecting off of a pair of acid-green eyes as the changeling rose up from behind the table, fangs bared. The next few seconds were odd, and she watched them through a strange haze of detachment. Her body seemed to react of its own accord, without actually bothering to wait for input from the brain.

The lungs went first, letting out an ear-splitting shriek of an octave that she was fairly sure she physically could not reach. Part of her thought she heard glass shatter, off in the distance.

Then there were her legs, which kicked back, forcing her to rear up and then swing downward again, catching the edge of the table with her hooves as she did so. The haphazard piles of books that were serving as its legs weren't built for that, and the entire thing collapsed in a truly spectacular fashion, catching the rising changeling squarely in the jaw as it did so. It sprawled across the stone floor, dazed.

But Compass' body wasn't finished. She felt magic surge through her horn as some ancient instinct took over, reaching for the closest weapon with which to defend herself. Luckily, the library was full of substantially oversized and extremely heavy volumes on a variety of subjects, all bound in thick jackets that made them perfect for use as bludgeons. The changeling had just started to push itself upright when the blow caught it on the side of the head and sent it right back down onto the floor.

For almost a full four seconds after that, she stood there, bug-eyed and gulping great, shuddering breaths of air. Then she realized that she was being watched.

From behind every bookcase and the top of every shelf, changelings were staring at her.

"What are you doing?" shouted Tailspin. The pegasus swooped down toward her. "Grab the lantern and run!"

Still clutching the book, and with the lantern bobbing along in the air behind them, Compass and Tailspin made a dash for the exit.


Spike clenched his teeth and let out a low, frustrated hiss.

Someone was playing the organ, and they were doing it specifically to force him towards something. He could hear stone grinding on stone as the hallways of the castle shifted around him. The doors that he tried either refused to open, had nothing but blank stone behind them, or simply weren't there at all.

Whoever was controlling the castle's mechanisms was steering him towards the throne room. He knew enough about the castle's layout to realize that, even with things shifting as they were. The fact that he was completely unable to do anything about it was worrying enough on its own. What made it worse was that, the closer he got to the throne room, the more changeling resin there was.

He took another step, expecting to hear another sharp click as his talons met with the resin caking the floor. Instead, there was a soft squelch, and he felt his claws sink into a pool of black liquid that had yet to harden. He growled, lifted his foot hurriedly, and shook it off as best he could.

There were still no actual changelings anywhere that he could see, though. That was worrying. Someone was leading him into a trap, and there was nothing that he could do about it. As long as the changelings had control of the organ - and he had no doubt that they did - the castle belonged to them, and he had no choice but to follow the trail they left open for him.

Finally, he rounded a corner and found himself standing before the double doors leading to the throne room. These doors were smaller than the ones that marked the castle entrance, but they had obviously been just as beautiful, once. Now they were faded, scratched, and rotted, but there was enough of the original design left upon its surface to make out the image of his six friends, each holding their Element above their head.

Spike stopped a yard away from it, frowning. It was obvious that the changelings - if they really were the ones in control of the organ - wanted him to enter, but he had nowhere else to go. The hallways behind him had closed off as he walked through them, which left him with no other viable options short of sitting in the hallway and waiting for the changelings to come to him.

He started to step forward, but before he could open the doors himself, there was a flare of noise from below. A series of loud, brazen notes sounded, echoing through the hallway, and a slow, metallic grinding sound followed in its wake. Ahead of Spike, the doors to the throne room began to swing open of their own accord.

Sickly green light spilled out into the hallway, glistening on the resin that clung to the walls. Warm, cloying mist spilled out from the throne room and covered the floor, filling the air with the stink of rot and decay.

The throne room was covered in resin. Spike could see that most of it was still fresh, oozing down the walls in thick rivulets and dripping from the ceiling to form huge pools on the floor. Here and there, large, green, pulsating things hung from the resin, emitting that eerie greenness that was the only light in the room. But only a small part of him was paying attention to that. The rest of him was more concerned with the changelings.

They clung to the walls, hovered in the air, hung from the ceiling. A small army of them stood between him and the twin thrones at the far end of the room, all with their teeth bared and their eyes flashing hungrily.

And, sitting on Twilight's old throne, there was something else.

Most changelings were of indefinite gender. Spike wasn't even entirely sure how they reproduced. Twilight had never figured that out. But the changeling sitting on the throne was different. This one was quite obviously female. She almost looked like a princess; she had both wings and a horn, and, viewed from the right angle, she was poised and regal.

But she had no coat. Her body was covered, instead, with glistening chitin. Her horn was twisted and pitted with scars. Her wings were insectile and tattered at the edges. Her body was emaciated, almost skeletal in appearance, and marked with irregular holes where flesh should have been. Her mane was long and greasy-looking, hanging over her face in long waves of blue. Two long fangs hung down from her upper lip, and her eyes, while almost pony-like in appearance, had slits for pupils and were the same sickly, festering green of the light that filled the room.

Queen Chrysalis smiled slowly at him. "Spike," she said. Her voice was a honeyed purr, like a gracious host welcoming a guest, but there was an undercurrent of predatory intent that sent a shiver down his spine. "I was wondering when you would finally wake. We've been waiting for you. Do come in." She made a sweeping motion with one hoof, encompassing the whole of the room. "Welcome to my kingdom."

Spike eyed the army of changelings. None of them had moved, except for the occasional flicker of a wing or slight twitch, but they were all watching him with the same malicious expression. He heard a few of them hiss, and one of them laugh quietly.

"I think I'll stay out here, thanks," he said.

Chrysalis laughed. "Rejecting my hospitality?" She propped up her chin on one hoof and smiled at him. "Putting aside the fact that I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't have a way to make you obey, what exactly is your plan? Sit there until you starve? Or were you counting on a rescue?"

Spike said nothing. Chrysalis laughed again, shook her head, and continued, "Well, that's too bad." She stepped off the throne and made her way down towards the crowd of changelings. They parted before her, bowing and scraping. Spike was certain he heard one of them murmur "Your Highness", but Chrysalis ignored them.

"We watched you the whole time that you were in the Tangle," she said, still smiling at Spike. "Your traveling companions are hardly intimidating. The pegasus is a chattering fool and the unicorn is incapable of carrying any more than a few sheets of paper without reaching the point of exhaustion. That leaves one earth pony and one dragon - but, since the earth pony is already being prepared for our next meal, that leaves... just you, I'm afraid."

She flashed a horrible, toothy grin at him. "It really was fortunate that he wasn't much of a talker. Otherwise someone might have noticed something off. Thank you for the instructions, by the way. This castle always was extremely frustrating. Now it belongs to us completely."

Spike took one step back. Chrysalis was getting too close for comfort, and he wanted to do nothing more than bolt and find another exit. If what she said was true, then the ponies were in danger, and he doubted that they would be able to protect themselves...


"Where in the hoof did you learn to hit like that, anyway?"

"It's all a matter of leverage. Find me a bigger book. There's more coming."


...But there wasn't anywhere to go. The hallway behind him was closed off, and the only door out led straight into Chrysalis and her army. His mind spun, searching for options, and finally settled on playing for time.

"If you were watching us in the forest," he said, his eyes flickering desperately around the throne room, looking for any openings, "why didn't you just attack us then?"

Chrysalis laughed again. "Oh, come now, Spike," she said. "You don't expect me to be so stupid as to order an attack on a dragon using nothing but a scouting party as muscle, do you? I always have a plan." She stopped walking, standing in the center of the throne room, surrounded by a circle of empty space as her servants shuffled away to make room for her. "But now you're alone," she said, her voice lowering. "You have no friends here. No one is coming to help you. And I have an army."

"Then why aren't you just attacking me?" Spike asked. He stopped searching the throne room for potential exits, instead focusing his gaze on Chrysalis, who just smiled again and made an odd tutting noise.

"Well, why do you think?" she said. "Because we're hungry."

"So?" Spike took another step back. He could feel the heat of the torch starting to fade. It was dying out. Soon, the only light would be the evil green glow from the throne room.

"Sooooo," said Chrysalis, tossing her head and smiling again, "with creatures like you, it's so much easier to feed if you allow it. Oh, we could still devour you if you resisted, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. Why did you think I spent all that time pretending to be that princess? Shining Armor would have fought me, but he trusted his wife-to-be. He would have made an excellent meal."

Spike looked her slowly up and down, frowning. "What makes you think I'll let you feed on me willingly, then?"

Chrysalis laughed, then looked up towards the ceiling. A few of the changelings hanging there dropped away, lowering themselves down towards the floor with a dull, flat buzzing from their wings. Hanging from the ceiling in the spot that they had just vacated was another of the huge, green, pulsating things that lit the room.

Spike heard a faint hiss from behind himself as his torch finally went out. Now everything was cast in green.

"Because if you do," Chrysalis said, "we will release her."

For a moment, her horn shone with power. Then the green, pendulous thing - a cocoon, Spike realized - peeled open slightly on one side.

Even in the green, disorienting light, and even with the thick, cloying mist hanging in the air, it was impossible to mistake the mare inside the cocoon. Her eyes were closed, her coat and mane were matted with slime, and she was so thin that she looked close to starvation, but she was unmistakeable.

Spike felt his heart pounding hard. Inside the cocoon, a prisoner of the changelings, was Twilight Sparkle.


Pith Helmet's head was pounding. For what felt like a full minute, he couldn't imagine why, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate. Then he remembered.

Something had bitten him. He vaguely remebered a pair of bright-green eyes in the darkness. That meant changeling, which explained why he couldn't move his legs. Changeling venom paralyzed its victims, so they could be more easily dragged off and cocooned.

He felt... something. It took him another eternity to figure out what it was. Then he realized that somepony was dragging him along an uneven, rocky passage, none too gently. Or efficiently. He could hear panting and hissing, and the one dragging him had to stop every few paces to get their breath back. Dragging the stallion's bulk was obviously not easy.

He let his left eye open just enough to peer around. His helmet was gone, which was a problem. It meant he had no light source. But there seemed to be light here, if just a bit. It was acid-green and dim, but it was there, at least. He could make out the basics.

It was a large, almost circular corridor. Or a tunnel, more accurately. The floor and walls had been smoothed over roughly, but not expertly so. It was still jagged and uneven, and sloped downward sharply. He was being dragged down towards the bottom of the corridor. That was also where the light was coming from, judging by the shadows.

Part of him wanted to struggle. He overruled it and forced himself to listen instead. Only one set of hoofsteps. He and his captor were alone in the tunnel. That was good. It was probably a changeling, which was bad, as a single bite would put him under again. It had the advantages of a venomous bite, flight, and night vision, along with full use of its limbs. He had none of those, but he did have the element of surprise.

And body mass, he thought. That was likely why he wasn't waking up in a cocoon. He was almost double the weight of the average pony, and he had been bitten before. He was starting to build up a tolerance. The venom wouldn't have as much of an effect on him as most. It would wear off faster.

He just had to hope it wore off before he ended up in a cocoon.

Surreptitiously, he tried to wiggle his right rear leg. It responded, but sluggishly, and he felt pins and needles shoot up and down its length. It felt as if all his limbs were just coming out of being asleep, and slowly. But they control was coming back to him.

He shut his eye again and forced himself to breathe evenly. He timed his attempts to test his returning strength with his captor's movements. Every time the changeling took another few steps, he tried a limb. It was slow, torturously so, with long pauses between each movement that left him wondering if they hadn't reached the end of the line, and he was about to be put into one of the cocoons.

But the changeling kept moving, and he kept trying. After three cycles, he could just about manage to lift his forelegs. After five, he thought he was ready to try to stand.

After the seventh cycle, he was ready to fight.

When the changeling braced itself for another heave, he kicked off the ground with his hind legs, driving the top of his head upward and into the thing's lower jaw. It grunted in surprise and pain, then reeled back, fighting to keep its balance.

Pith didn't intend to let it get its footing back. He spun, still fighting the lingering numbness in his body, and leapt, tackling the changeling to the ground and pinning it beneath his bulk. Its head hit the stone floor hard, and it gave one more grunt before passing out.

Pith heaved a sigh of relief and stood up. The tunnel was bathed in green light now. He turned to the left, towards the bottom of the tunnel, and saw why.

Spike had mentioned a magic tree at the bottom of the gorge around the castle. Something told him that he had just found it.

It looked like a tree during winter, with all of its leaves gone and its branches reaching upward to the sky. But there was no sky here; there was only a cavern, covered in changeling resin and full of pulsing green cocoons. And this tree looked like it was formed out of shining crystal.

And vines. The vines that filled the Tangle had their roots here. They burst up from the ground underneath the tree as if they had burrowed upward from underneath it, then turned and grew outward, out of the cave and up towards the rest of the Tangle. But the tree hadn't escaped their grasp.

Like the castle above, the vines were choking the tree to death. They had wrapped around it a dozen times over, so tightly that they conformed to its shape, and their thorns had pierced its bark in several places. And the vines that were choking the tree weren't lifeless and still, like the ones in the rest of the Tangle. These vines moved, and shone with the same evil green light as the cocoons. That light flowed through the vines in visible streams, starting at the thorns that had pierced the tree and flowing out of them, down through the rest of the vines and into the earth.

They're feeding on it, he realized. Then he shook himself. There were more important things to think about. Tailspin, Compass, and Spike were still in danger. They had to be warned about the changelings. And he was still here, in their nest, with no way out but back up the passage and into the castle.

He scowled and started to pace around the cave. If he was going back in, he'd need a light source, and a weapon. The changelings had taken his equipment and his helmet, leaving him with no tools whatsoever. Running back into hostile territory with no weapons was suicide.

The cocoons here were empty, at least. He had thought about opening one of them, seeing if one of the poor ponies inside had any equipment on them before they were... drained... but that wasn't necessary, it seemed. That would also explain why there weren't any changelings in the area at the moment. If there was no food waiting for them, they would be elsewhere, looking for more.

He spent almost a full minute staring around at the cave, searching for something, anything, that he could use, but there was nothing. There were a few loose rocks, but none big enough to use as a weapon, and that was it. Nothing even approached being a usable light source.

There was a snapping sound from above. Pith blinked and looked around just in time to see a branch drop from above and hit the ground in front of him. It was part of the tree, formed of that same glowing crystal, and the perfect length to be used as a truncheon.

He blinked again, then looked up at the tree. One of the vines had tightened visibly around what was now a broken stump sticking out from the tree's main body, snapping off the branch. Rather lucky, really.

Pith shrugged, then leaned down and plucked up the branch, weighing it in his hooves.

Yes. Yes, this would do nicely.

He gave it a few experimental swings, grinned, and set off back to the tunnel at a trot.

7: Hate

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Spike's head was full of an odd, high-pitched buzzing. He couldn't seem to take his eyes away from the cocoon that held Twilight. His vision swam at the edges, and he was only half-aware of Queen Chrysalis speaking again.

The changeling queen was looking upward as well, fangs bared in a wicked, curved smile. "I thought that might get your attention," she said. "Waking up alone, after so long... it must have been hard for you."

She spread her wings and began to flap, adding the low, moaning thrum of her flight to the whine that still seemed to fill Spike's ears. "She has been such a delight, all these years," she purred, her voice barely audible over the pulsing of her wings. "Twilight Sparkle, faithful servant of Equestria." She reached the cocoon, laughed, and reached out to rest one chitinous hoof against the green, pulsating mass. "Well," she said, "former servant of Equestria. Now she serves a different people, in a rather more... personal capacity."

Her eyes flashed. "You know, she's lasted for over two hundred years now," she said. She was keeping her tone strictly conversational, but that malicious smile hadn't left her features. "She still wakes up and begs for mercy on occasion. Truly a remarkable creature. But her struggles were in vain... until now, that is. Now-" she looked back to Spike "-you have the chance to release her from all of this."

Spike wasn't listening any more. He had heard everything that he needed to hear. Now, something else was taking over.

He had been born in Canterlot and raised in Ponyville. He had spent the entirety of his life surrounded by ponies, acting as their patient helper and steadfast companion. He had learned everything he knew from them. He had even married one. But now, something in Spike's hindbrain was reminding him that he was not, in fact, a pony, even if he spoke like one and acted like one.

Something was bubbling up within him, something hot and viscous. He could feel it spreading through his body, slowly, inch by inch, radiating outward from his chest, like his blood had turned to fire. As it flowed through him, he felt his muscles tense.

Then the burning, liquid feeling reached his brain, and he recognized what it was.

Hate.

Spike let the journal drop to the floor unheeded. His lips rolled back involuntarily, revealing his rows of razor fangs, and a low, animal rumble rose from his throat as he felt his bones begin to stretch and pop. He felt a brief pressure around his neck, just for a moment, as the necklace that he wore strained to contain his growth, but then it ceased, and some part of him registered that it was growing with him.

Hate.

There was a snapping sound as his tail tightened around the torch, crushing the wood effortlessly. Slowly, he lowered himself onto all fours and spread his wings. They were wide enough now to scrape the edges of the hallway, and getting larger with every second. The resin under his fore claws shattered as his claws suddenly began to grow, scoring the stone beneath.

Hate.

Chrysalis was saying something, but now Spike could hear nothing but the scream of rage in his head. He had heard it only twice before in his life. The first time was when he had lost Rarity. The second had been only a few hours ago, in the brief moment when he had believed the three ponies to be thieves.

Hate.

A few of the changelings were bolting for the other exits from the throne room, desperate to be somewhere else. He ignored them. His eyes, the pupils now predatory slits, were locked firmly on Queen Chrysalis, who was raising her hooves and shouting orders to the rest. She was still hovering in the air beside Twilight's cocoon.

She was still between Spike and his friend.

Hate.

The bellow of rage that the dragon released shook the castle walls. In several rooms, crumbling masonry finally collapsed. Dust fell from the walls, windows shattered, and the earth quaked beneath his feet.

Eyes locked on Queen Chrysalis, wings outstretched, mouth spitting green flame, Spike forced his way out of the too-small corridor, shattering the archway as he did so, and leapt into the air, claws outstretched.


Compass Rose wasn't sure, exactly, how long she had been running, but it felt like an eternity. Her coat was, once again, streaked with sweat, her legs felt as though they were on fire, and there was a stitch on her left side that felt as though she was being stabbed with a rusty knife. Even her horn ached from the constant use of telekinetic magic.

If she hadn't known that both their lives depended on constant movement, she would have begged Tailspin to let her stop and rest for a minute. As it was, pure terror kept her moving through the pain.

The past ten minutes - was it really only ten minutes? It felt like forever - had been a blur of mad dashes through narrow corridors, twisting passageways, and empty chambers, punctuated by flares of faint music and the sudden disappearance of one or more exits.

Ahead of her, Tailspin was still flying along at breakneck speed. "This way!" she called, veering sharply to the left. "Come on!"

The two of them rocketed into another hallway. This one was full of what looked like legs sticking from the walls. For a moment, Compass almost slowed down, reluctant to follow the pegasus any further into the decidedly eerie hoof room. They looked as though they might come to life at any moment and attempt to seize the nearest pony.

Then an ear-splitting sound echoed through the halls, shaking the castle to its foundation, and all doubt left her mind. She bolted through the hallway at breakneck speed, shrieking at the top of her lungs - and collided almost immediately with Tailspin, who had come to a halt in the middle of the hall.

The two of them toppled and went over in a tangled mass of limbs, skidding across the stone floor, until they struck the wall. Tailspin was the first to find her feet again. "Watch it," she said shortly, moving to retrieve her helmet - it had gone spinning away during the initial impact. "Didn't you hear that?"

Compass hauled herself upright by using something on the wall as leverage. It wasn't until she was standing again that she realized she was holding onto one of the hooves that projected from the stone. She gave a small squeak and released it hurriedly. "Of course I did," she said, panting. "That's why I was running. We've got to get out of here before whatever that was finds us."

She cast her gaze around at the hall, looking for her lantern and book, and her face fell. The book was still intact, which was good. The lantern, on the other hand, had shattered when she had lost concentration and let it fall during her crash. She shook her head, lifted the book up with her magic once more, and moved closer to Tailspin, who was adjusting the position of her helmet. At least that light still worked.

"'Whatever that was' was Spike," Tailspin said. She tapped on her helmet lamp, which was flickering slightly. After a moment, it steadied, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Nothing but a dragon could be that loud, and I really don't think it's likely there was another one in here. We need to find him." Then she blinked. "Why are you still carrying that book around? There's heavier stuff to use if you want a club. We passed a place full of armor just a few minutes ago."

Compass frowned and floated the book closer to her chest, looking offended. "This is a priceless artifact," she said, drawing herself up. "It happens to be, uh..." She looked down and squinted at the cover, struggling to make out the words in the dim light. Then her eyes widened. "It's a spellbook," she said. "By Twilight Sparkle."

"Great." Tailspin walked a bit closer, bringing her light up so that the book was more clearly visible. "Is there a spell in there to magic all of us back home?"

Compass bit her lip. "I have no idea," she said. "Even if there was, I don't think I could cast it right now. Not without studying it first, and practicing. I'm not the best with magic."

Tailspin sighed. "Right, then. Back to Plan Find The Dragon. Which might be even more difficult than I thought at first, 'cause I think we're lost." She looked around at the collection of disembodied legs hanging from the walls. "Lost in an art gallery decorated by someone with a really, really weird taste in wallpaper, too."

"No, we're not," said Compass.

Tailspin blinked at her. "Yes, we are," she said. "Have you seen the legs?" She pointed with one hoof.

Compass sighed and continued, "We're not lost. We're one floor down, towards the east wing of the castle. I can find the way back to the stairs easily, if there aren't any changelings in the way."

"How?" The pegasus was staring at her now, looking entirely bewildered.

Compass smiled. "I'm good with directions," she said. "Come on. Let's get... back..."

She stopped and stared back at the entrance to the hallway. Or, rather, where the entrance had been a moment ago. "Oh, for the love of-" She stamped one hoof on the stone floor. "Can't we catch a single break today?"

"Pith and Spike were talking about an organ that controlled the castle's secret passages," Tailspin said. "I'm guessing one of the changelings has control of it now. Until that organ stops playing, all we can do is keep running and hope we find the others eventually. And you can keep tracking our location."

For the first time since the changelings had first shown up, Compass grinned. "That," she said, straightening up, "I can do. Come on. Let's keep moving. The changelings can't be... far... behind."

She trailed off, eyes widening as she stared into the hallway behind Tailspin. The pegasus sighed as the sound of chittering filled the air. "Yeah," she said. "That's about our luck."


In the throne room, the air blazed with green light. The putrid, rotting green of the changeling cocoons was bright, but the brilliant emerald of Spike's flame drowned it out. The black resin that covered the walls reflected it back, gleaming like jade.

The dragon was so large now that he filled nearly a quarter of the throne room, and he was still growing. Heat radiated from him in scorching waves, and flames poured from his mouth in an unbroken stream, cutting great swathes through the horde of changelings.

There was no thought in this. There was no plan in this. It was something in his bones rising to the surface, and it would not be denied. It reached deep down inside him, found the fire, and brought it out with more force than he would have believed possible. It wasn't heat, it was a physical force, not burning its victims but crushing them, smothering them under a torrent of blazing, scoriac flames. The changelings struck by it didn't burn. They simply ceased to exist.

Part of him was horrified at the simple, brutal ease with which he did it. The rest was focused on locating more targets. He was a dragon, and his hoard was being threatened. In that moment, that was what Twilight Sparkle was: a treasure, his treasure, and one that he would do anything to protect.

The changelings had actually tried to fight him at first. Now they were all scattering, scrambling madly for the exits, trying to get away from the all-consuming fire. Chrysalis had vanished, but he didn't care. There were changelings in front of him here and now, and they would all burn.

His hate demanded it.


Pith Helmet felt the ground under his hooves shake again. That made four times in the past five minutes. Something big was happening up above, and after hearing that roar echo through the tunnels, he was fairly certain he knew what it was.

Spike was tangling with the changelings. That meant one of two things: either he had started the rumble, in which case he was probably going to be fine and had taken them by surprise, or the changelings had started it, which meant things were about to get worse. They wouldn't attack a dragon head-on without an ace in the hole. They always found the little back way in that no one was watching. Most of the time, you never saw the attack coming until it was too late.

So think it through. What's the ace?

He crept further along the tunnel, taking things as slowly and quietly as he could. It had started to even out, and looked like it had actually been shaped now - it looked like an unfinished corridor more than a cave, at least, and that was good. That meant he was getting closer to the castle.

They've got night vision, know the place, and have the Tangle on their side. They can fly, they can bite, and they can change appearance. Not much help against an angry dragon.

So what, then?

He was in an actual hallway now. The tunnel he had just left branched off from it at an odd angle, and looked like it didn't quite fit in with the rest of the design of the place. A small protrusion of bricks on one side might have indicated a door that was meant to look like part of the wall, but he didn't stop to investigate. He could hear the sound of a pipe organ nearby, accompanied by the faint chittering that indicated the presence of changelings.

Ahead of him, on the left, there was an archway. It was too dark beyond it to see what exactly was inside, but that was where the sound of the pipe organ was coming from, along with the high-pitched clicking that passed for speech among changelings. He edged up toward it an inch at a time, taking care to step lightly so as to not give away his presence with the sound of hoofbeats on stone.

Finally, he reached the edge of the archway. There, he paused and weighed the length of... crystal? wood? in his hoof. Whatever it was, he shifted his grip on it, preparing to swing if necessary, and turned to peek around the corner.

The room beyond was truly massive, more of a cavern than an actual room within the castle. It was largely devoid of features save for a large raised platform in its center - and, sitting on top of that, a huge pipe organ the size of a house. One changeling was sitting at the keys, occasionally playing a run of three or four notes, then pausing again. Another two changelings were standing on either side of him, staring around at the darkness.

Guards.

Some part of him was surprised that the light from the glowing branch hadn't given him away, but the changelings in the room didn't seem to have noticed it. It was faint, though, just barely enough to see by. It just gave the darkness a grainy outline rather than actually illuminating anything. Maybe he had just gotten lucky so far.

One guard watching you, a weapon and a light source within easy reach, and two lax sentries. That's a lot of luck, Sonny Jim.

Pith shook his head, trying to clear it. Even if things were going a bit too smoothly to be considered normal, he didn't have time to stop and wonder why fate was suddenly smiling on him. Tailspin and Compass were still in the castle, and trapped between a horde of changelings and a rampaging dragon. He needed to do something to help them.

Stopping the changelings from using the organ seemed like a good idea. He had no idea what it was, but they were guarding it. Putting an end to the concert seemed like a good option.

He stayed behind the archway for another moment, weighing his options. There weren't many. No cover in the room, no alternate approaches. He could go in swinging and take them head-on, or he could walk away. He didn't like the first option, but the second seemed like an even worse idea - whatever the organ was, it was obviously important to the changelings, and leaving them in control of it couldn't be good.

He sighed, reached up to adjust his hat, and realized it had been taken from him. He settled for scowling, then swinging around the archway, branch raised, and shouting "Hey!"

It had about the effect he expected. That is, the changeling at the keyboard spun around to stare at him, while the other two hissed and took wing, rocketing across the room towards him. On the one hand, this meant they were rapidly getting close enough to hit. On the other hand, this meant that they were rapidly getting close enough to hit.

Welp. Nothing for it now, big guy. Swing or die.


The changelings had all fled. The throne room was empty of everyone but Spike and the still-cocooned Twilight Sparkle, but his flame didn't stop.

For a long time, he felt as though it never would. He continued to spit lances of volcanic heat at the walls, the floor, anything that he could see save for Twilight. His body refused to settle, or to stop growing. He now filled three-quarters of the hall by himself, which made turning almost impossible. Whenever the fire inside him demanded release towards that side of the room, he had to twist his neck as far as it would go.

Another spear of fire reduced the throne that Chrysalis had occupied a short while before to molten slag.

Slowly, the tiny part of Spike that remained lucid, the part that had been horrified by the slaughter he had wrought, started to regain control. Bit by bit, he forced his flame to stop. It cost almost all the willpower he had to do so, but he managed it. Every time that he started to falter, every time the heat started to return and boil over, he looked upward, to the spot where Twilight Sparkle hung in her prison, emaciated and weak.

I'm coming, Twilight.

His skeleton popped audibly as the bones rearranged themselves and shrank back down to their normal size. It took nearly five minutes to fully clear himself of the rage that had driven him so far. When he finally did, he felt drained and weak. His legs shook, his vision swam, and his breathing was ragged and sharp.

He shook himself, then looked upward, spread his wings, and took flight. She was waiting for him. As long as she needed him, he wouldn't let anything stand in his way.

After a few seconds' aerial climb, he was hovering in the air beside the cocoon that held his friend. He reached out and placed one clawed palm on its surface. It was warm and sticky, and felt unpleasantly like rotting flesh, but he didn't pull away.

"Hold on, Twi," he muttered. "I'll get you out of there." He pressed down with one claw, then drew it sharply downward, ripping open a long slit along the cocoon's length. Then he shoved both hands into the opening and pulled it apart, tearing the thin skin. A torrent of rot-smelling green slime poured out and splashed onto the floor below.

Twilight Sparkle started to slide down as well, but the dragon moved forward and caught her unconscious form in his arms with a grunt of effort. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to the ground and set her down gently on the resin-covered floor.

For the first time, he had the opportunity to study her features. She looked... different. Older, taller, thinner, more like the other alicorns that Spike had seen before going to sleep. Her mane had even changed; now it resembled Princess Celestia's, a series of shades of violet that seemed to be a window into the evening sky. But it was her, even if she was so thin that she looked like a skeleton, and breathing so shallowly that he could hardly see her chest rise and fall with the rhythm.

Spike reached out and gently placed the back of one clawed finger against her neck, checking her pulse. Her skin was cold, but he found her heartbeat easily. It was slow, but even and steady, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Then, to his amazement, Twilight's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she simply stared blankly forward, seemingly uncomprehending. Then she blinked, her eyes focused, and she looked up at Spike.

A small but incredibly happy smile spread across her features, and she opened her mouth to speak. Spike saw her lips frame his name, but no sound emerged. Her mouth was too dry to talk, obviously.

He didn't care. Right then, seeing Twilight Sparkle smile was the greatest thing in the world. He reached out, wordlessly, and pulled her into a tight hug. For a few long moments, he held her there, eyes shut and leaking tears. He wanted to say something, but no words came, so he just held her close.

He didn't see the flash of green from Twilight's horn, or the brief moment where the brilliant purple of her eyes changed to toxic, shining, acid green.

All he knew was that Twilight Sparkle was back, and he would do anything for her.

8: Our Strange Duet

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Pith Helmet, despite his quiet nature, was not dumb muscle. Dumb muscle didn't survive long these days. He was intelligent enough to know that fighting two opponents at once - with an option on three, but the one at the keys wasn't jumping up to help just yet - was a bad idea even when the ones he was going up against were normal ponies. Changelings were an even worse idea.

But leaving the changelings to do... whatever it was that was so important with the organ meant putting Compass, Tailspin, and Spike in danger. Probably. And that wasn't something that he could stomach.

Sometimes, you had to take the risk.

He ducked and rolled, moving left, trying to get into a position where he had a few seconds of one-on-one with an attacker while the other maneuvered into position. He came up fast and spun back to face the charging changelings, the shining branch held tightly between his forehooves like a club. As he had hoped, one of the two was now veering sharply to try and catch up, while the other was less than a leg's length away.

Okay, big guy, you got your face-off. Now what?

They had the advantage of speed and maneuverability. They could fly, he couldn't. His advantage was bulk. It had fewer opportunities for flashy tricks, but what it did have was a refreshingly simple and effective approach to things.

The changeling lunged. Pith swung, and was rewarded by a satisfying crunch as the improvised weapon caught the changeling in the side, and the feeling of the impact shock vibrating up his forelegs.

But that wasn't all. At the moment of impact, there was a flash of dazzling light from the crystal branch. For a brief moment, the entire organ room was illuminated in rays of brilliant blue and white. Despite its sudden harshness, though, the light didn't seem to hurt his eyes, or even to leave the familiar streaks across his vision that came with looking at something too bright.

The changelings, on the other hoof, hissed as if they were suddenly in pain, and the one that Pith had struck, rather than simply reeling for balance and leaving itself open for a second strike as the pony had intended, sprawled across the floor, unconscious.

There was a flare of noise from the organ as the changeling at the keys suddenly began to hammer on them desperately, a sudden swell of notes that filled the chamber with echoing, brassy melody. When it cleared, it was replaced by the sound of grinding stone and buzzing wings.

Backup, then. Pith wanted to stop and examine the branch, but there was no time. Instead, he leapt forward, swinging wildly at the changeling in front of him. It was obviously still dazed from the flash, and he caught it in the rib-equivalent with a powerful blow that sent it spinning away in another blast of blue and white. Without pausing, he turned and sprinted for the organ.

The changeling there obviously knew it was the next target. Before Pith was even halfway there, it had spread its wings and flown off towards the ceiling, chittering madly as it tried to keep out of reach. The stallion glared after it for a moment, then turned its attention to the keyboard.

There was a small, hoof-bound volume on a little stand above the keys. It depicted a series of mechanisms and tiny, hoofwritten descriptions of what they did. Each had an odd design scrawled under them: a series of five horizontal lines, then a collection of strange symbols laid out on them. Even Pith, who had never seen sheet music before, could tell that there was a pattern, and that it was probably instructions on how to activate each mechanism by playing the organ.

He didn't have time to try and figure out the controls. He could hear the buzzing of changeling wings getting louder now. It sounded like an army of them was converging on the organ room, and even with his apparently magical weapon, he didn't fancy taking on more than a few at a time. Too many chances to get unlucky.

Time to improvise.

He seized the book in his teeth, turned, and galloped headlong for the exit.


Spike felt as though his head was full of fluffy pink clouds. It was an odd sensation, but not an unpleasant one. It made him feel rather enjoyably light and warm, really. And with Twilight Sparkle sitting beside him, he felt content.

"...memory is still fuzzy," she was saying. Spike blinked and, with great effort, forced his eyes to focus on her again. "I don't really remember what happened before. I just know that I kept waking up in that cocoon, feeling weaker and weaker every time, and with Chrysalis laughing at me." She gave a small shudder, then smiled up at him. "I'm just glad that you turned up when you did. I don't think I would have lasted much longer."

Spike nodded. After a few seconds, he realized that he ought to say something as well, and he managed, "I'm glad you're all right." Another pause while he rooted around in the dimness of his brain, looking for more words to express himself. After almost five seconds, he gave up and let out a huff instead.

Twilight just laughed lightly. "I know, Spike." Her eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own, now. Spike wasn't sure he had ever seen anything that made him happier. "And I'm glad to see you looking so... strong. That necklace really suits you."

Spike blinked. Necklace? He lifted a claw and traced it down his neck until it clinked against something, then looked down. It was a piece of golden jewelry, set with a ruby the size of a pony's hoof. The ruby had been cut into the shape of a heart. It was far too small on someone his size, and, for some reason, seemed a long way off.

"Do you think I could see it?" Twilight asked. She was still smiling.

Spike scrunched up his face. Something was bobbing up and down in a corner of his mind, trying to get his attention. He made a grab for it. Something about... a unicorn with a white coat and blue eyes. The most beautiful eyes...

It took a long time for him to find the word he was looking for, and even longer to force himself to say it. His throat seemed to be fighting him. Every time he started to say it, it became something else, and he had to start over.

Finally, he rumbled, "No."

For a moment, Twilight Sparkle's expression went from a smile to a look of frustration, but it only lasted a moment. Then her horn began to shine, and Spike felt the pink clouds in his head growing thicker. The little thing bobbing in the back of his head was saying something about Twilight's magic not being acid green, but he couldn't place why. Of course it was Twilight's magic.

"Why not, Spike?" she asked quietly, horn still glowing.

Spike blinked once, twice, and looked back down to the necklace. An image floated through his memory. The white-coated unicorn mare was smiling up at him through the haze. He tried to focus on her, but she broke apart and drifted into the fog.

"It was hers," he managed, after a while. He shook his head, searching for her name. "Rarity's." Another long pause. "It's all I have of her."

"But she's gone, Spike," Twilight said softly. Her horn was glowing even more brightly now, and the dragon was finding it harder and harder to remember what the name "Rarity" meant. "She has been for a long time. Do you still care more about her than you do about me?"

Spike said nothing. He was drifting off into the pink clouds again, and words were failing him. All he could do was shake his head slowly.

"Then prove it," Twilight was saying. "Give me the necklace, Spike."

Something inside the dragon managed to get him to shake his head again. Everything seemed distant now. Even the glow from Twilight's horn was fading. He heard her sigh, as if from a great distance away. "Fine," she was saying. The words seemed to echo around the inside of his skull. "Then stay here for a bit. I'll be back soon."

Spike nodded, only partially understanding. Most of his mind was too clouded to really register anything that was happening, now. He just knew that he needed to stay where he was until Twilight asked him to do otherwise. He barely even recognized that Twilight had gotten to her feet and was striding away, towards one of the hallways.

He was already forgetting what it was that had made him say no to her. Without really thinking about the motion, he lifted one clawed hand again and placed it over the ruby, pressing it against his chest, and tried to figure out why there was an image of a white-coated unicorn floating through his mind.


"Tailspin! Tailspin! Wake up!"

Compass sighed. The pegasus wasn't moving. Compass had seen the changelings bite her again during one of the brief moments of lucidity following her capture. She would probably be asleep for a while yet - assuming that she would ever wake up. The changelings had placed her within one of the pulsating green cocoons, just a few feet away from the spot where Compass had been bound to the wall with resin.

She was more than a yard off the ground with her back pressed up against the cold surface behind her. Her forelegs and chest had been caked over with more solid resin, preventing any upper-body movement, while her back legs had been left to dangle free. When she had first woken up, she had tried kicking rapidly and searching for leverage with which to push herself away from the wall, but it was no use. She was exhausted, her limbs felt like they were asleep, and the resin was solid and offered no hoofholds. She was well and truly stuck.

The changelings had even poured the sickening black stuff over her horn. That was disgusting in and of itself, but it also seemed to interfere with her magic. Every time she tried to reach out and do something with it, she had an odd feeling, like extreme pressure was building up inside her skull. She had given up after the fifth try or so.

What the room they were in had been before the changelings had moved in, she couldn't tell. Everything was covered in resin now. There were two entrances, though, one across the room from her and one to her left. Other than that, it was bare, save for the spellbook, which lay on a slightly-raised section of resin, and the shining green cocoon that was currently occupied by the unconscious Tailspin.

Compass sighed. There was nothing for it; she either had to use magic or resign herself to being drained like the changelings' other victims. She screwed up her eyes, concentrated, and tried to force the magic out, fighting against the pressure of the resin.

"You may as well stop that," said a rather amused-sounding voice. "It won't work."

Compass let out a heavy gasp as the magic slipped away from her again, then spent a few moments choking for air. When she looked up, there was another pony in the room. She was tall and elegant, with a long, flowing mane that seemed to be full of stars and a lustrous violet coat. And she was an alicorn.

She seemed somehow familiar. It only took a moment to remember, and Compass said, "You're Twilight Sparkle."

"Mm, not quite." The alicorn smirked at her, and for a moment, her eyes flashed green. "You may call me Queen Chrysalis."

Little wheels were spinning with furious speed inside Compass' head. "Queen of the changelings?" It wasn't really a question.

Chrysalis smirked again. "Ah, so the little unicorn isn't quite as stupid as she looks. She does, in fact, have two brain cells to rub together, despite the fact that she was running about the hallways using a priceless piece of magical history as a bludgeon less than half an hour ago." Her horn began to shine with the same sickly green that emanated from Tailspin's cocoon, and the spellbook was lifted off of the dais to float towards her. "You know, I really should be thanking you. In all the years that we've lived outside, I was never able to find a way in. I was beginning to give up hope on ever seeing this book for myself."

The little wheels jammed. Compass Rose blinked. "What do you care about a book of unicorn magic?"

"Alicorn magic, you silly mare," Chrysalis said. She still sounded more amused than anything as she strode over to stand by Tailspin's cocoon, then sat down. The book opened in front of her, the pages riffling open, and the faux alicorn began to read. "Oh, there's unicorn magic in here as well, as well as some of Twilight Sparkle's personal dissertation on magical theory, but I never cared about those. One of my children was posing as part of her royal guard while she was writing it, and she never stopped rambling on about her thoughts on the subject, so I know most of that already."

A page turned itself delicately. "No," she went on, "this is valuable for the alicorn magic in it. Really, you unicorns always were such insufferable egotists. You may as well be stage magicians compared to us."

Compass felt her train of thought begin to move again, its temporary derailment dealt with. This "queen" seemed inclined to talk, which meant that she wasn't currently draining Compass. Or Tailspin. Her eyes flickered towards the pegasus again. She still wasn't moving, and a pang of fear washed over the unicorn as she considered the possibilities.

"So," she said, not looking away from Tailspin, "you're an alicorn?"

Chrysalis lifted her eyes, which had returned to their soft, violet state, and peered at Compass over the top of the book. "It took you that long to figure that out?" she said, a note of disdain leaking into her voice. "Really? I may have to rescind my previous statement about you not being an idiot. Why would I care about a spellbook that is full of magic that I could not possibly use?"

"But you're a changeling." Compass looked away from Tailspin and back to the queen, frowning. Most of her was just attempting to keep Chrysalis from thinking about hunger, but part of her was genuinely interested in what she was saying.

Chrysalis laughed in response and shut the spellbook with a snap. "Oh, don't tell me that after all this time, no one has worked out what we are," she said. She gave a dazzling smile. "I am an alicorn, you know. Just one that has been through some... changes." She stood and took a few steps closer to Compass, who attempted to shrink back into the wall. It remained stubbornly solid.

"I used to be a princess," Chrysalis said, stepping closer still. "Thousands of years ago, even before that bumbling dragon in the other room was born. I even knew Celestia and Luna when they were young. But then..." She sighed dramatically, but the smile never left her face. "I was an exceptional beauty, and as such, there were suitors visiting at all hours. One of them was a little more desperate than the rest. He mixed a potion of his own creation into our food."

She laughed. "A love potion, but incorrectly made. It drove the both of us mad with desire. For the rest of his life, we spent every waking moment in one another's embrace. But he was a unicorn, and I am immortal."

Compass stared in horror as the alicorn's face began to twist and change. The skin peeled back and fell away in flakes, only to be consumed by green flame before it reached the floor, revealing a chitinous, black, skull-like head with a long, lank mane and wicked, fanged teeth. "And now here I am," she said, a note of triumph in her voice. "He isn't here, but I still need sustenance. And it's just so much easier to take than it is to earn. I am always hungry."

Compass swallowed hard. "So why aren't you eating now?" Her voice was barely more than a squeak.

Chrysalis smiled again, and suddenly Twilight Sparkle's face was back. "Because," she purred, "I like to gloat. Things just get so boring and clinical otherwise. I have always preferred the more personal treatment. And besides, your friend should be here soon."

Compass blinked. "Pith? Where is he?"

"Oh, wandering about aimlessly in the corridors," Chrysalis said, turning away and waving one hoof dismissively. "He managed to steal the plans for operating the castle's secret doors, but he really doesn't know where he's going. He'll find us eventually, though, and when he does, I want a bit of leverage." She sat back down beside the cocoon that Tailspin was occupying and grinned at it. "He's apparently managed to lay his hooves on a rather powerful magical weapon, and I am never one to go into a situation like this without a plan."

She reached out and patted the outside of the cocoon gently with one hoof. Inside, Tailspin groaned and curled inward on herself. "So when he arrives," Chrysalis continued, "he'll get to watch as I feed on his partner, and then, if he still wants to fight, he'll have to do so knowing that you are the second course."

9: Aces High

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Pith Helmet was being herded.

He had noticed it almost immediately after snatching the castle plans from the organ room. Changelings were tailing him en masse, and they weren't attempting to be subtle about it, either. He could hear their chittering quietly behind him, along with the occasional flutter of their wings. Every time he reached an intersection, he found all but one of the paths out filled with glittering green eyes and glistening fangs.

He wasn't sure what they were forcing him towards, and he didn't like that. He had lost the element of surprise during his attack on the organ room. Now, he was beginning to wonder if that was worth it. He had stopped them from controlling the castle's secret passageways, which was a good thing, but now they could force him into whatever sort of trap they wanted, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, okay. Technically, he could try to fight his way through the horde and make a break for another part of the castle, but even with the branch, that didn't seem like a good idea. All it would take was one changeling getting in a lucky hit, and he would find himself in a cocoon, unable to do anything to help Tailspin or Compass. The branch was keeping them from attacking for the moment, but he didn't doubt that they would defend themselves if he tried anything.

For now, then, there was nothing to do but to allow himself to be shuffled along. Trying to force something would only end badly. At least they weren't attacking him at the moment. That was good; the longer that state of affairs continued, the better the chance that he would be able to find an opening.

He had stopped galloping several minutes ago. Now he was walking along at a deliberately calm, even pace. Right now, conserving his energy was a priority. When things did eventually come down to a fight - and he had no doubt that they would - he would need every bit of his strength.

His friends were counting on him.

The changelings were herding him towards a staircase now. He took the steps two at a time, not because he was trying to hurry, but because they had been constructed for ponies of normal size, and trying to take stairs one at a time always caused him to trip up. He couldn't really be certain what floor he was on, because he wasn't sure how many floors down the organ room had been, but if he had to hazard a guess, he would lean towards being back on the ground level.

When he reached the top of the staircase, he stopped. He could hear the crowd of changelings skittering closer behind him, but he paid them no attention. He was more preoccupied with the changelings in front of him.

The walls here were covered in a light coating of resin, which was obviously still drying. It oozed down the stone in thick, heavy clumps and filled the air with the stink of decay. Spike had been right; the changelings couldn't get in without the key. But now the doors were open, and they were moving in to claim this place as their own.

The clung to the walls now, staring at him with wide, blank, insectile eyes. Pith reared up onto his back legs, holding the branch between his hooves, and started to inch forward.

The changelings just stared at him. A few backed away, their legs clicking softly with each impact against the wall, but none of them made any attempt to attack. They just let him pass. A glance over his shoulder showed that they had returned to smearing the black liquid over the walls, as if forgetting that he had existed at all - but behind them, more changelings were advancing, continuing to force him onward.

He set his jaw and continued down the twisting passageways.


Spike pressed the necklace to his chest. The weight of it was somehow reassuring, even through the deepening fog. The tiny part of him that still retained a measure of lucidity recognized that the only thing he seemed to be able to see was Twilight Sparkle. She was standing in front of him, frowning, and speaking to him in that exasperated tone that she had employed so often when he was younger.

"You can't even remember why you're refusing me, can you?" she was saying. Her voice was icy now, and Spike flinched at the sound. He didn't want Twilight to be angry at him.

But... the weight of the necklace against his scales seemed to be anchoring him somewhat. He let out a deep, thunderous rumble. "Because it's all I have of her," he managed. His voice was more than a little slurred.

"You don't even remember who she is," Twilight spat. Her expression was one of open contempt now, and Spike cowered in front of her. Every angry syllable felt as though he was being whipped. But he still couldn't stop himself from saying these things. Why couldn't he stop?

Why didn't he want to?

"I remember," he croaked, fighting the words every step of the way, "that she was..."

"What?" Twilight's eyes flashed angrily. "That she was what?"

"That she was perfect," he breathed.

The alicorn snorted. "So you loved her more than you love me," she snapped. One hoof stamped on the ground.

"No." Spike was shaking now. He felt very, very small, though he knew that his bulk was still larger than any stallion's. Twilight's eyes seemed to fill the entire world.

"Then why won't you give it to me?" she demanded. Every word was like a blast of ice.

The words bubbled up from within him one at a time. "Because," he said, "I wasn't ready to let go."

Slowly, Twilight's expression changed from her angry scowl to a warm smile. "I know, Spike," she whispered. "I know." She walked forward and draped one leg around his shoulders. Without thinking about it, he lifted his snout to nuzzle against her coat. She stank of rot. He didn't care.

"But you need to, Spike," she was saying. "She's gone, and she can never come back, and trying to hold onto her will only bring you pain."

He shook his head, slowly, but he could feel something in his head starting to crumble.

"Spike, I've loved you since the moment you were born," Twilight said. She stroked his scales gently with one hoof. "I've always been there for you. I always will be. But you're hurting me, Spike."

Spike blinked. "Hurting you?" Something lurched in his stomach. He felt as though he was about to vomit. The thought of hurting Twilight was too much.

"Because you can't let go of her," she whispered. "You're choosing her over me, and that hurts me so much, Spike. You have to let her go. Otherwise you'll just keep hurting people. Forever."

There was something in her voice, an odd inflection that Spike couldn't quite place. But he wasn't really trying to. Something was leaking through his brain in icy rivulets, removing the fluffy pink clouds and replacing them with cold blankness. He was slipping away.

But that didn't matter. Twilight was speaking to him. With all of his strength, he focused on what she was saying.

"All I want is for you to prove how much you love me," she said. "I just want to know that you love me more than anyone. That you'd do anything, even give her up, if it meant that you would stop hurting me."

Her eyes filled the world.

"Give me the necklace, Spike."

Mutely, Spike lifted his claws and removed the golden chain from around his neck. He held it dangling from an extended talon, offering it to her. It swung back and forth gently, the ruby reflecting flashes of light from the cocoons. With every tiny motion it made, Spike felt another piece of himself slip away, disappearing into the cold.

Her smile as she took it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

And, as he watched her slip it around her neck, the last piece of Spike that was still himself faded into nothing.


Pith had finally reached what seemed like the end of the line. The changelings had shepherded him to a corridor that only had one entrance and one exit. The former was now blocked off by at least a dozen changelings, with who knew how many more behind them. And the latter was packed full of even more, all of them just standing there and staring, backed by the acid-green glow of their cocoons.

He gripped the branch tighter, ready to start swinging if any of them made a move towards him. Perhaps this had been the plan all along: get him trapped between two forces that he couldn't possibly defeat, then dogpile him when he had no room to maneuver. Well, he'd be sure to take a few of them down with him, at least.

To his surprise, no attack came. Instead, the changelings in front of him parted, forming a pathway for him to enter. He didn't move. Walking in between two rows of changelings less than a yard away on either side didn't sit well with him. Then he heard the hiss behind him, and one of the changelings prodded him on the haunch. Reluctantly, he moved in.

As he stepped into the room, there was a sudden rush of movement from the changelings that had parted for him to enter. They swarmed towards him, and he tensed, but they didn't attempt to strike him. Instead, they rushed past him, back into the hallway, reinforcing the ones that were keeping him from retreating.

Not that he wanted to retreat, at this point. He had spotted the other two ponies in the room.

Compass Rose had been affixed to one wall, trapped by a coating of resin over her chest and forelegs. She gave him a panicked look, but couldn't speak; another thin strip of resin had been placed over her muzzle, keeping her from opening her mouth. But she was alive, at least.

Pith felt the bottom drop out of his stomach when he realized that he couldn't be sure if the same was true for Tailspin.

The pegasus was encased in one of the changelings' cocoons. He had seen what happened to those victims before. Even if they were rescued before they were fully drained, there was no such thing as full recovery. And that was assuming they survived the process.

He sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside the cocoon. The branch fell to the floor beside him with a thud, accompanied a moment later by the plans he had stolen from the organ room. "C'mon, Tails," he said, unable to keep a rising note of panic out of his voice. "You're okay. C'mon, wake up." He reached out, put two hooves on the cocoon, and attempted to shake it, to rouse the unconscious pegasus inside, but it wouldn't budge.

Tailspin was curled in on herself, almost in the fetal position. She was, at least, breathing - if you could call inhaling the green slime inside the cocoon "breathing" - but it was shallow and uneven, and she twitched every few seconds.

"Oh, look who's finally decided to turn up," said a disdainful voice. He looked up.

A regal-looking alicorn with a violet coat and a mane like the night sky was walking into the room from the other doorway. She had a cruel, curved little smile playing across her features.

And around her neck was the heart-cut ruby necklace that Spike had worn.

She followed his gaze and glanced down at the necklace, then broke into a wide, toothy grin. "Oh, yes," she said, as she strode into the room, "it's his. Quite the treasure, no? There's quite a bit of power in this little brooch. Enough to give me the strength to break your little fortresses beneath my hooves. And it comes with a dragon who bears more love towards me than I would be able to consume in a century. Carefully managed, he'll last an eternity." Her eyes flashed. "It's been a very good day."

Pith's expression changed instantly from one of worry to one of anger, and he reared back, scooping up the branch in his forepaws again. He opened his mouth to say something, but the alicorn had lifted her gaze up from the necklace and was looking straight into his eyes. For a moment, her eyes blazed a brilliant, toxic green rather than gentle violet. The sheer force of her stare drove the words from his mouth.

"That is," she said, sounding much more serious now, "except for you." She began to walk around the periphery of the room, a large and heavy-looking book floating in her wake. "Not only have you managed to escape becoming a light snack for my children as I had planned for you to be, you actually injured one of them during your... escape."

The alicorn dropped down onto her haunches. Rather abruptly, Pith found her stare leaving him and being turned towards the pages of the now-open book that she was levitating in front of her. When she spoke again, it was in the tone of a disappointed schoolteacher. "And, as if that were not enough reason for me to want you to suffer, you somehow came across a weapon that, while rather unassuming in appearance-" Pith gave a brief, confused glance towards the shining crystal branch "-has since caused serious injury to two more of my family. Then, to add insult to injury, you stole the plans for the Organ to the Outside."

The book closed with a snap, and then that stare was back on Pith, but now it seemed cruelly amused more than angry. "You really must want to suffer."

Pith drew himself up. Nothing for it, then, he thought. Can't fight your way out through all of them. Time for the bluff.

"No," he said flatly. "I'm just here to take my friends and leave. And you're not gonna stop me." He gestured towards Tailspin and the struggling Compass Rose. "I don't know who you are," he continued, "but you know who I am, and you know what this-" he hefted the branch "-can do, or you'd be trying to take me down right now. So unless you want me to put it to use, I'd suggest you let them go. All of them. That includes the dragon."

The alicorn simply laughed, high and cold and clear. Pith's face remained impassive, but his heart sank. She wasn't buying the bluff. That meant things were about to go south.

"Oh, no," she said. "I don't think so. You see, I may be a queen, but I am, first and foremost, a mother. And you have harmed my children." That wicked little smile was back. "So now, I am going to make you feel the same thing that I feel."

Her horn began to shine with a sickly green light, and suddenly, Compass was taking great heaving gasps of air from a muzzle that was no longer blocked by resin. The queen glanced over at her, smiled sweetly, and said, "Go ahead, darling. I know you ponies always have confirmation codes when you think you'll be dealing with us. Let him know it's the real you he's going to watch suffer if he doesn't comply."

Compass glanced at Pith, who simply stared back. For a few seconds, the unicorn simply chewed on her lower lip, apparently thinking. Then she sighed, bowed her head, and muttered, "Sherbet."

Pith inhaled sharply and glanced down at the cocoon in front of him for a moment. Then he looked back up at the queen, who was looking immensely satisfied with herself, and said, "You said 'if he doesn't comply'."

"Yes, yes," said the queen, smiling again. "I did. Now, what is going to happen here... well, you're not going to enjoy it for a moment. But if you do as I say - that is, if you surrender to us willingly - I am prepared to release your green-coated friend over there." She waved one hoof towards Compass, who flinched and shot Pith a meaningful look. She's lying.

Pith's eyes flickered downward once more, and the queen laughed again. Then she leaned forward and flashed a brilliant grin at him. "Oh, no. Not her. You see, my unlucky stallion, we remember the two of you. My children have met you before, multiple times. And I know how much this little pegasus means to you. In a few moments, you will be watching her die." She straightened up and folded her forelegs daintily in front of her. "And that is one thing that you cannot change."

Pith knew that phrase should have made him crumble. It was certainly what the queen had meant for him to do. But, instead, he found himself renewing his grip on the branch and setting his jaw again. "Well," he said, "I suppose that leaves me with one option."

"And that is?" The queen sounded more amused than anything now.

Pith turned to face the changelings in the doorway, club at the ready. "I'm not leaving Tails to die," he said flatly. "And there's no way you're just gonna let Compass walk, either. So it looks like this is a rumble." He let his gaze drift over each of the changelings, who simply stared blankly back, unmoving. "So which of you all is first?"

There was another peal of mocking laughter from behind him, and he turned slowly to face the queen again. "What's so funny?"

She smiled at him again. "Oh, just you," she purred. "I told you - I am, first and foremost, a mother. Why would I throw more of my children against you when your weapon can harm them so badly? At least-" she laughed again "-why would I do that when I have another, rather more effective enforcer to make you comply?"

She lifted her head and looked towards the doorway she had entered from. "Oh, Spike," she called, her voice high and sing-song. "Would you come here for a moment, please?"


She was calling.

There wasn't much in the way of actual thought occurring in the mind of the lumbering beast that had once been Spike. He had surrendered himself completely to Queen Chrysalis' will, and she had no need for the parts of him that could think. All she needed - all he needed, now - was to know that he was, in every way, completely and utterly devoted to her.

Now, she was calling him, and his body responded. Muscles rippled beneath his scales, and his skeleton creaked as it shifted again. He felt his wings expand, felt the fire in his gut grow stronger, felt the talons on his hands grow to the length of swords.

Slowly, he made his way towards the call, stone and resin shuddering and shattering with every step he took. The doorway was far too small for him now. He shouldered it aside effortlessly and forced his bulk into the room.

"There you are, dear." Her voice echoed around within his head. "Our guest has decided not to cooperate. Hold him down, please. No flame. I want him to watch as the pegasus dies."

There was a khaki-coated earth pony with a close-cut mane standing a few yards away, gaping up at him with an expression of utter disbelief. It was holding something in its hooves - a length of rotten wood, it seemed, but it was held like a weapon.

The thing that had been Spike didn't hesitate. He reared up and let out a bellow that shook the castle to its foundations, then charged.


Part of Pith's mind was still busy reeling in shock over the sight of Spike's massive form bearing down on him like a freight train. That part of him, fortunately, was still attached to the part that was thinking, so it got to survive as well when he made a desperate leap to one side just before the dragon's talons impacted the spot where he had just been. He heard the cataclysmic sound of stone being ripped apart, but didn't turn to look. He jumped up and found himself face-to-hoof with Compass Rose.

The unicorn was gaping blankly at Spike as well. "What happened to him?" she breathed. Then she screamed in surprise as Pith swung the branch, hard, and shattered the resin over her right forehoof.

"Wonder later!" he shouted, as he released her other leg. "Right now, we just have to deal!"

A third blow released her from her prison entirely, and Compass Rose hit the ground with an "oof". Her legs still felt like they were asleep, but they were at least functional.

Chrysalis was laughing again. "You really are surprisingly quick," she said, nodding to Pith. "It is a pity that you still can't help your other friend."

Pith ignored her and swung around just in time to see one of Spike's massive, taloned hands come swinging around towards him. The impact felt like he was caught in a rock slide. He heard Compass Rose scream, but he was too dazed to really register it. The blow had lifted him off his hooves and thrown him across the length of the room. When he hit the ground, he felt something snap in his chest.

He fought to stand again, but he was slow and shaky now. Too slow. All he managed to do for several seconds was raise his head, and the sight felt like he had been hit again. The cocoon around Tailspin was pulsating now, like a beating heart, its light growing stronger with each motion.

She was being drained.

Spike let out another deafening roar that left Pith's ears ringing, then turned to charge towards him again. The dragon's eyes were burning the same way they had when he had first woken up to see the three of them, and Pith knew it was no good trying to reason with him this time.

He forced himself upright on shaky legs, then looked around frantically. The branch was gone, knocked out of his hooves by the force of Spike's blow. He spotted it lying on the ground just a few yards away from Compass, and started to run towards it, but was stopped by the sudden feeling of dull fire in his ribs.

Spike was getting closer rapidly. Pith steeled himself and hurled his body to the side at the last moment again, landing badly. The feeling of fire in his bones redoubled itself, and he gasped at the pain of it. "C-Compass," he grunted. "Get Tails!"

"I'm trying!" The unicorn sounded as though she was sobbing, and Pith twisted his neck around to look at her again. She was kneeling by the cocoon know, hammering on it ineffectually with her hooves. "I can't stop it, Pith! I can't get her out!"

There was another sound of grinding stone. Spike was changing directions again. Pith heaved himself to his feet and staggered towards the cocoon. "Get behind me," he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. Something wet and warm and tasting of copper was leaking into his mouth. "I'll distract him."

The queen laughed again. Throughout the entire thing, she hadn't moved from her original position. She seemed content to survey the action with a smirk. "Oh, yes," she said. "You'll distract him. For all of a minute or two."

Pith saw Compass flinch and stop in her efforts to bash into the cocoon. "Don't listen to her," he grunted, still limping towards the branch. "I'll protect you. And Tails. Promise."

There was thunder behind him as Spike started moving again. He grit his teeth and bent down to pick up the branch, ignoring the screaming agony in his side, then turned to face the charging dragon.

If this was the end, Pith Helmet was going to go down doing what the only thing he could think of: throwing everything he had at the monster threatening his friends.


The thing that had been Spike let out a triumphant roar. The tiny thing that it had been attempting to catch had finally stopped moving. It was holding the rotten log again, raising it as though it expected to be able to fight back, but even the unthinking dragon could recognize that there was no defense against this. This earth pony was just that: a pony.

And he was a dragon. He had the strength to tear apart masonry with his bare claws. His fire could burn down a forest. His scales were proof against any attack.

He lunged. The pony swung. Spike felt the dull impact against the scales of one taloned hand.

There was a burst of brilliant, blinding light. Something stirred inside the beast's head.

The light was a mixture, rays of two different colors strong enough to drown out all other hues in the room. They were colors he recognized.

There was a brilliant sky blue, a perfect cerulean. And there was flawless, ivory white.

Something washed through the beast's brain. He knew those colors. Even after so long, he knew those colors.

Spike blinked.


Pith hit the floor again, hard, and let out a pained, bubbling cough. The branch had been knocked out of his hooves once again, and this time, he knew he didn't have the strength to go after it. He panted heavily and stared up at Spike.

The dragon had stopped moving. It was staring down at him, its look of utter rage gone. In its place was... confusion?

"Well?" said the queen, waving a hoof. "What are you waiting for? Turn him over. He's facing entirely the wrong direction, and I would hate for him to miss that pegasus' last gasp."

There was silence for a long moment. Then Pith heard Spike speak.

"You enchanted me."

"What?" Chrysalis blinked up at him, then climbed slowly to her feet. "You- how?"

There was no answer from the dragon. No verbal answer, anyway. Spike simply stepped towards her, lifted one massive, clawed hand, and pinned her to the wall. There was no effort in it, and no great sense of urgency. The movement was almost lazy.

The other hand came up, and Pith saw the talons gleam in the acrid light. For a moment, everyone stared at those claws in silence, and Pith was certain that the alicorn was about to lose her head. Then, with exaggerated care, they moved forward and plucked the necklace off of the queen's neck.

"This," Spike rumbled, "is not yours." He released his grip on the alicorn, who fell back to the floor, still gaping silently up at him, and slipped the golden chain over his own neck again. It seemed to stretch to accommodate him.

The queen shook herself and bared her teeth in a furious snarl. "You have no idea what I'm going to do to you now, you insufferable animal," she hissed. Her voice was low, but filled with murderous intent, and Pith felt a shudder run through him. "I had planned to keep you as a companion, a constant source of sustenance. But you - you have the gall to defy me?"

She drew herself up, her disguise burning away as she did so, revealing the horrible, gaunt creature underneath. "You will suffer like no other has," she whispered, as her wings spread and she lifted herself into the air. "You will-"

"Shut up," said Spike quietly. He wasn't even looking at the queen any more. He had turned away and walked out of Pith's view. Behind him, the pony could hear a series of wet, gurgling sounds, followed by Compass Rose gasping. When the dragon walked back into view, he was cradling Tailspin's limp, slime-covered form in his hands.

Pith's heart skipped a beat, and he struggled to lift his head. Is she breathing? Come on, Tails, please be breathing. Please. His strength failed him again, and he let his head fall back to the stone with a soft thump.

"We're leaving," Spike said flatly. "All of us. And you aren't going to try and stop us, or I will roast your children alive." Pith heard nothing but cold certainty in that voice. It wasn't a threat. It was a simple statement of fact.

To his surprise, the queen did not lower herself to the ground again. She flew higher, her tattered wings filling the air with a low, droning hum. "Do you really think that you can defy me? I am Queen Chrysalis. I was old when your princesses were young. I have power greater than you can possibly imagine."

"And it's still not enough to stop me," Spike said. His voice was still cold and utterly, utterly certain. He didn't even flinch when Chrysalis' horn began to shine once again. He didn't even move. He just stared.

The blast of poisonous green lifted him off his feet and sent him, howling in agony, all the way across the room to crash into the opposite wall. The tremors of impact shook the castle once again, and the air filled with the choking dust of crushed rock.

Pith coughed, unable to do so much as move a hoof to try and push himself upright. He could hear Compass Rose staggering toward him, coughing as well, but he knew that she was in no shape to fight, either, even if she had known how.

There was the sound of crumbling masonry, and a huge shape loomed up out of the dust. Spike was pulling himself upright, Tailspin's limp body still cradled in one hand. There was a huge, gaping rent in his scales just below his ribs, and something black and foul-smelling was seeping from it.

Chrysalis was grinning again, both fangs fully visible and glinting in the dim green light. "I told you, dragon," she said, her voice as sharp as a knife edge, "I have more power than you could possibly imagine."

Spike swayed, his massive, gleaming teeth clenched, and stared back at her. "Okay," he panted. "Yes. You're strong. Stronger than me. I didn't think you were, but you are."

Chrysalis' grin widened. "Quite."

Spike took a step forward. "But," he said slowly, "you still can't stop me."

Pith groaned and closed his eyes. Chrysalis' horn was shining again. "Oh," she said, "I think I can."

Even Pith, without the natural attunement to magic that unicorns shared, felt the magical backwash sweep over him as she threw her next spell at Spike. He heard the sound of its impact, heard the dragon bellow in agony -

- and then felt talons closing in around him, lifting his exhausted body away from the floor. He opened his eyes.

Spike was spreading his wings, his back turned to Chrysalis. One of his hands held both Compass Rose and Tailspin. The other was clenched around Pith himself.

There was another surge of magic, and Spike bellowed again. Pith could see the flash of green from over the dragon's shoulder, and he wondered how much Spike's scales could withstand. The black tar bubbling out of the wound on his stomach didn't look natural.

"You can shield them for as long as you like, animal," he heard Chrysalis say. "But even you cannot take this forever."

Spike hunched down over the three of them, his wings fully spread now. "You're right," he groaned, eyes shut. "But I don't need to."

Before Pith could brace himself, or even begin to take in those words, the dragon had lifted his wings as high as they could go and slammed them down with as much force as he could muster. All of them rocketed skyward - or, more accurately, towards the resin-coated stone overhead.

There was another thunderous crash, and Spike's wings pumped again as his whole body shuddered. Pith could feel every vibration, see the dragon's heaving chest. Spike was driving them upward through layer after layer of solid granite, using his own body as a battering ram, and shielding the three ponies beneath him all the while. Below them, he could hear Chrysalis screaming, and the mounting thrum of a hundred pairs of changeling wings.

There was a third crash, then a fourth, then a fifth, and then a horrible organic tearing sound. For a moment, Pith was certain that Spike's wings had been destroyed, but then light struck his face, and he realized that the noise had been the thick vines of the Tangle being torn apart by the dragon's rapid ascent. They were out of the castle and into the open sky now, and Spike's wings were still pounding the air, fighting for speed and altitude.

"Wait!"

Pith blinked and looked towards the source of the noise. Compass Rose was gripping one of Spike's fingers and hammering her hooves on it. There were tears streaking her face. Pith instinctively looked back to Tailspin, and his heart sank.

The pegasus still wasn't moving.

"Wait!" Compass shouted again. "You have to - just - bring Pith over here! Please!"

There was no answer from Spike, but a moment later, Pith found himself being deposited in the dragon's other hand. Compass seized him around the middle and attempted to heave him upright. "Come on, come on!" she said. There was more than a little panic in her voice. "Please! She's dying!"

Pith grunted in pain as one of Compass' hooves pressed against his broken ribs, but he managed to force himself upright again. "No," he said flatly. "She'll live. She's got to live." He had to keep repeating it.

"No, I- she's so weak. I can help her, but I need my magic!" Compass was shouting now, fighting to be heard over the rushing wind and the sound of Spike's wings tearing the air in half with each stroke. She pointed down, and Pith followed the motion to see that the heavy spellbook was sitting there on the dragon's palm beside Tailspin. "There might be healing magic in there!"

"So?" he shouted, looking back up to her. "Use it!" He couldn't keep the faint note of desperation out of his voice.

"I can't!" Compass was sobbing again. She lifted one hoof and pounded it against her forehead, and Pith saw that her horn was covered in resin. "I can't get it off! I'm not strong enough! I need you to- to-"

Pith stared. "To break it?"

She nodded mutely. He flinched. "Won't that hurt you?"

"Yes!" She shook her head rapidly, still sobbing. "But you've got to! It's the only chance she's got. She won't last until we can reach the outpost. Pith, please! I don't care if it hurts me, or cripples me, or whatever! We've got to try!"

Pith hesitated for a moment, staring at her. "You're sure about this?"

"Yes, I-"

He didn't give her a chance to finish. Instead, he reared back, then brought one of his hooves down sharply on her horn. There was a sickening crack that he knew he would be hearing in his nightmares later, and Compass collapsed, screaming and clutching at her forehead.

"Are you-"

"I'm- I'm fine!" The unicorn's voice was high and shaking, wracked with even more sobs now, pain mixed in with the panic. "It's - I can still - Just-" She trailed off, then dragged herself over towards Tailspin and the spellbook, keeping her face turned away from him.

"I'm sorry," Pith muttered. He doubted she heard him over the wind. It wouldn't have made much difference if she did. He watched as she flipped the book open and began to scan through its pages. He also noticed that the glow around the book was much weaker than it usually was.

He looked down. There, among the tiny black chips of resin, were a few flecks of green.

He let himself sink to the ground again. He was utterly exhausted, in agonizing pain, and now he felt as though he was going to throw up. He couldn't bring himself to watch Compass as she turned to Tailspin. He couldn't even bring himself to check if the pegasus was still breathing.

For almost a full minute, he just sat there, staring out into space as Spike picked up speed. He didn't know where the dragon thought he was going, and he didn't care. He didn't even register it when the vines below began to lash upwards and Spike had to bank sharply to avoid them, then climb rapidly to get out of their reach.

After a while, he became conscious of Compass' sobbing again. The sound had never really stopped, but he had tuned it out for a bit while he attempted to collect himself. He sighed.

She needs you. They both need you. Tails has been your partner for years, and Compass just let you cripple her to try and save your friend. Don't you dare hold back on them now.

Slowly, he dragged himself over to the two mares and placed one hoof on Compass' shoulder. Together, the four of them sailed off over the Tangle, leaving the ruined castle behind them.

10: Reveille

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Spike awoke to the feeling of burning.

It wasn't the familiar, comforting burn of the flames in his gut. That had been uncomfortable when it had first started, but he had gotten used to it. Over time, he had learned to control how strongly they burned. It was almost like controlling his size, in a way. The constant pulsing of that flame soothed and relaxed him when he focused on it. It was part of him.

This didn't feel like that. This was excruciating. The pain lanced through him, bouncing around inside his ribcage and making his eyes water.

He opened his eyes.

He was inside a long, low, wooden building, lit by the soft, flickering light of oil lamps around the walls. Most of it was divided into partitions by white sheets hanging from the ceiling. They looked as though they could be pulled back, but they gave some semblance of privacy, at least. He was at the back of the building, resting on a cot that was far too small to be comfortable for anypony, let alone a dragon, and covered by a set of thin, tattered sheets. He could just make out the shadows of ponies walking about through the dividers, and there were several quiet voices at the edge of hearing.

So. Hospital, then, but a makeshift one. That was good. It was certainly a more welcome sight than crumbling stone and black resin.

Another stab of pain made him wince, and he attempted to lift the sheets to look at himself. The motion caused his back to scream at him in protest. He overruled it, and, grunting with the effort, lifted the sheets to examine himself.

Somepony had bandaged him up. It looked like a fairly expert job, despite his unusual proportions. The bandages criss-crossed his chest and stomach, and he could feel them on his back as well. That meant he was being taken care of. That was good.

The deep black splotches that were seeping through the linen, on the other hand, were less so. Spike groaned and let the sheet fall back into place for a moment as he took mental stock of himself.

His wings ached, but they hadn't been bandaged because they hadn't actually been wounded. It was simply the ache of overexertion, and he knew that would pass. He had done it before. Likewise, his head, neck, and shoulders throbbed with the dull ache of bruising. Forcing his way through the castle walls had not been easy, after all, but he could handle that.

What worried him was the decidedly unnatural pain from the wounds that Queen Chrysalis had inflicted on him. He had underestimated her. If he had been any type of pony, he had no doubt that he would have been killed on the spot. Even Princess Celestia had been easily defeated the last time Chrysalis had flexed her muscles. He just wished that he had been smart enough to remember that before she took it upon herself to remind him.

One wound just below his left-side ribs, a second on the right-hand side of his chest, and a third on his back, just below the left shoulder blade. None of them felt like the bruises on his wings and scales. Those, in a way, were a good pain. They felt like they were healing. This felt like something was bubbling, festering under the bandages, like it was eating into him an inch at a time.

He raised one claw and set it over the heart-cut ruby around his neck, feeling its reassuring weight against his scales. It helped to steady him. It wasn't just a reminder of Rarity, really, though she was forefront in his mind when he thought of it. It was a piece of his childhood, and all of his friends. For a while, he shut his eyes and let memories and exhaustion wash over him, trying to rest.

He may have fallen asleep at some point. The next thing he knew, there were raised voices outside. They were coming from the other end of the building, so the conversation was not fully audible, but he could make out someone shouting the words "it's a dragon".

Spike sighed, groaned, and, still wincing with every lance of pain through his wounds, rolled off the bed and onto his feet. His left arm didn't seem to want to move much, so he remained on his hind legs as he made his way down the aisle in the center of the building, limping slightly with each step.

Most of the beds he passed were empty, but a few of them had closed the blinds around them, and he could see shadows moving inside, along with the murmur of hushed voices from a few ponies he assumed were the doctors on staff. It wasn't until he reached the front of the building, where there was a larger, more open space he assumed was meant to act as a lobby, that he actually saw anypony else.

Pith Helmet was sitting on a cot by one wall. Another pony was busy putting the finishing touches on some bandages that wrapped around Pith's chest, while another, a severe-looking grey-coated unicorn mare in a white coat, was standing behind a nearby desk and making notes on a clipboard.

"You're ridiculous," she was saying. "You're just lucky that blood in your mouth was from biting the inside of your lip and not a punctured lung. Moving around so much with broken ribs... you could have been in much worse condition than you actually are."

Pith just gave a mute shrug, then grimaced as the pony putting his bandages on forced his leg back into position. "And don't move that," snapped the unicorn. "You've got several torn ligaments and possibly a hairline fracture. We'll be putting a splint on that next. Honestly, I really don't know why you didn't tell us about these injuries as soon as you arrived."

"Others need more attention," Pith answered flatly. The stallion caught sight of Spike coming down the aisle and gave him a faint, but pleased, smile. Seeing his attention shift, the unicorn turned to look as well.

Spike blinked down at her. He was still standing on his hind legs, which meant that, while he wasn't nearly as large as he had been back in the castle, he still had to hunch down considerably to keep his head from running into the rafters when he moved. The unicorn blinked up at him, and, for a moment, Spike thought that she was dumbstruck. Then he realized that she was inspecting his bandages.

"Yes, well," the doctor said briskly, finally lifting her gaze to look at him, "the discharge seems to have stopped for now, but you should be careful when moving about. We didn't have any sutures strong enough to hold in, ah, dragon-flesh, so we had to make due with packing the wounds and applying pressure, which seems to have done the trick for now." She brushed some greying hair out of her face and frowned at him. "Do not remove the bandages for at least a week, and come to us if the wounds start to seep again. My knowledge of dragon anatomy is... limited, but I might still be able to do something, at least."

"She's Doc Grey, by the way," Pith added. "Don't mind her. She's just worried."

The doctor shot him a glare. "I did say to hold still," she snapped. "You and that Compass Rose filly come crashing through the door with, of all things, a dragon in tow, multiple critical injuries for both yourselves and said dragon, and a pegasus who can barely breathe without magical assistance-"

She stopped. She could see the expression on Pith's face. So, Spike thought, for all the snappishness, she does have a heart in there somewhere.

Grey sighed heavily. "And anyway," she muttered, as she moved back behind the counter, "any minute now I'm going to have Reveille breaking the door down to see your friend-" she waved a hoof at Spike "-when our patients need rest and quiet, not a bunch of soldiers storming up and down the length of the hospital. If you can even call it a hospital. I swear, the conditions I have to work in..."

She trailed off into inaudible dark mutterings. Spike blinked at her, once, then took a step closer to Pith. The earth pony applying the bandages did their best to shrink into the wall, until Grey shot them a glare, at which point they did their best to shrink into the wall while simultaneously continuing to apply the bandages.

"So," Spike said. "Where are we?"

"Fort McHoofry," Pith said. "The place we were trying to steer you for. You hit the ground just outside the Tangle, passed out, and shrank down again." He winced as the bandages were tightened again. "Me and Compass got you and Tails back here as fast as we could."

"How?" Spike asked. Pith shrugged.

"Carried you. Wasn't much in the way of options. Compass handled Tails and I got you."

"With broken ribs and torn ligaments," Spike said. He gave the earth pony an appraising look. "I'm impressed. And grateful."

Pith smiled again. "Feeling's mutual," he said. "You saved our lives back in the castle. Least we could do is save yours." He winced again, and added, his voice sounding a bit more strained as the bandages were tightened around his ribs, "Besides, I don't leave a partner behind."

Spike blinked again. "Partner?"

Pith nodded, his smile fading. "We just spent the last day sneaking into changeling territories and facing off against the queen together," he said. "If that doesn't make us partners in... whatever this is, I dunno what does."

Spike opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the sound of more raised voices outside. He paused, watching the door; the voices were getting closer this time. One of them he recognized as Compass Rose. The other one was sharper and louder, and made him think of a male Doc Grey.

"He's not dangerous," Compass was saying. Her voice was low, quiet, and tired, with the air of one who has been repeating this same thing for the past few hours.

"It's a dragon," the other voice replied. "And this one's from the Tangle."

The door to the hospital swung open so hard that it hit the wall with a bang. This provoked a furious glare from Doc Grey, which was aimed squarely at the pegasus who was now walking in. He was surprisingly small, with a dark olive coat and close-cropped mane, but he still seemed to somehow fill the room. Walking along in his wake was Compass Rose.

The pegasus didn't even break stride when he spotted Spike standing in front of him, but took a few steps into the room as he slowly looked the dragon up and down. "So you're the dragon," he said.

Spike didn't answer. He was staring at Compass rose. For what felt like the umpteenth time since he had woken up in the Tangle, he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut.

The unicorn was still standing, but she was shaking and soaked in sweat. Her mane was matted and greasy-looking, her eyes were dull and glassy, and she looked as if she was going to collapse at any moment. She was obviously well past the point of exhaustion. What was keeping her upright was anyone's guess. But that wasn't the worst of it.

One of Compass' eyes was surrounded by a swollen, black bruise, and, above it, there was her horn. Even before she stepped in from outside and into the marginally better lighting of the hospital, he could see that it had been shattered. Almost the entire right half was missing, and fragments of the bone-white material of the horn's core glittered faintly as he watched.

She didn't look up at him. She just walked, silently, over to the bench where Pith was being bandaged, dropped heavily onto it, and shut her eyes.

The olive-coated pegasus stamped one hoof and snorted. "Okay, so you're a deaf dragon," he said sharply. Spike turned to look down at him again, frowning. To his surprise, though, the pegasus didn't look nearly as vitriolic as his voice would suggest. He was just... watching Spike, carefully. His posture was not aggressive, and his expression was somber rather than angry. It was only his voice that was sharp.

"His name's Spike," Compass interjected. Spike glanced back at her, but she hadn't opened her eyes. She was stretched out, full-length, on the bench, frowning to herself.

Slowly, Spike nodded. "Yeah," he said, turning back to the pegasus. "That's me. I'm guessing you're Reveille."

Reveille nodded. "That's Colonel Reveille, thank you," he barked, and again Spike was struck by the contrast between the angry voice and the calm speaker. Spike had spent enough company in the company of the royal guard to recognize a drill sergeant's voice when he heard it, but the pegasus looked and acted like something much less abrasive. "Commander-In-Chief of this outpost, and in charge of evaluating and dealing with any and all threats to it, its personnel, and-slash-or the settlements under its protection. And right now, you are a threat."

The pegasus began to trot around Spike in a wide circle, sizing him up as he went. Spike fought back the urge to turn to follow the pony's movements. If Reveille wanted his inspection, he would get it. The dragon wasn't exactly in the mood to fight with anyone, even if it was only verbally, at the moment.

"Now, the story Miss Cartographer over there tells me," Reveille barked, as he started a second orbit of Spike's person, "is that you're a nice dragon. Raised by ponies. Even married one. Then, when you wake up all sad and alone, you, out of the goodness of your reptilian heart, give them a key to a castle full of important books and offer to escort them there. And then you save them all from this 'Queen Chrysalis', because you're just so eager to throw yourself in front of the avalanche to save a bunch of ponies you just met."

The pegasus came to a halt in front of Spike once again, stamped a hoof, and snorted. "Now, that's what she said. What I heard was that a recon mission acting on questionable intel ran into unexpected and, frankly, unbelievable 'help' that knew all about where they wanted to go and was just so happy to show them the way. Then this 'help' leads them right into a nest full of changelings with no plan and no backup, makes contact with something that says it's the leader, wakes up every changeling in the Tangle, ensures that absolutely nothing useful is retrieved from the scouting mission, puts one of my best scouts in a magic cocoon that's got her in critical condition and did who knows what else to her head, and then flies back here, expecting to be welcomed as a hero."

Reveille drew himself up, frowning very slightly. "You can see how I might be a bit skeptical of this."

Spike sighed and returned the frown. "Yeah, I can," he answered. "But I'm also wondering why, if you're so suspicious of me, you haven't brought any guards along."

Reveille's frown turned, just for a second, into a slight smile, as if Spike had just been clued in on some private joke. "I'm suspicious," he said. "I'm not stupid. You're a dragon. We don't have the firepower to fight you even if we wanted to. There's no point in putting my colts in the line of fire if they can't win the fight." His voice was less vicious now, though there was still a pronounced edge to it, like he could start shouting again at any moment.

Spike found himself smiling in return. Unlike Reveille's, his lasted for more than a second. "That's good thinking," he said. "I also notice you said you didn't want to fight me."

Reveille shook his head slowly. "Oh, believe me, I'd love to believe that we've got a dragon on our side at all, let alone one that has all the answers for everything we're up against," he said. "But we can't trust you. Not just off a story that could be taken either way."

Spike nodded. "I guess," he said slowly, "it's not enough to say that I was raised by ponies and never hurt any of them, except once, when I was little and threw a bit of a... tantrum." He coughed, shifting embarrassedly on the spot, and continued, "Or that I don't eat ponies or anything like that. That's a common worry. I eat normal food, pretty much, with a lot of gems mixed in."

Reveille just shook his head, but Spike wasn't really watching. Something was bobbing in the back of his mind. "What if," he said slowly, "I gave you another reason to trust me?"

Reveille stared at him levelly for a second, then shrugs. "Depends on what that reason is."

Spike took a deep breath, then turned towards Compass again. "Hey," he said quietly. "Do you still have that book?"

She nodded, still not opening her eyes. Spike waited to see if an actual answer was forthcoming, but gave up after almost ten seconds' silence and turned back to Reveille.

"Before I fell asleep," he said slowly, "back when I was just a kid, the changelings attacked for... well, I say it's the first time, but they probably tried it before then. Anyway, the point is, they attacked, but we beat them, because there was a spell that one of our unicorn friends could cast that created a shield to keep them out. It wasn't easy to cast, and it had to be constantly renewed, but it worked."

Reveille stared. "And you think that spell's in the book Compass dragged in here with her?"

Spike broke into a wide grin. "That book may be the one good thing we got out of the castle, Colonel," he said. "It was written by Twilight Sparkle, the greatest spell-weaver there's ever been. Everything she knew about magic, she put down in that book. I'd almost guarantee that shield's in there somewhere, along with a bunch of other useful stuff. And that's not all."

The olive pegasus raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical again. "You walk in here and say you've just handed us the greatest weapon we could ever hope for on a silver platter, and you say that's not all?" Another snort. "I really am starting to think this is too good to be true."

Spike raised his good arm and held up a claw. "I can't guarantee anything, remember," he said slowly. "But there was something else. Something that protected Equestria from even worse than changelings, multiple times. And I might be able to find it."

Reveille quirked a brow again. "And this thing is...?" he prompted.

Spike lowered his arm. "The Elements of Harmony."

11: Partners

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The fort was at once much more and much less than Spike had expected.

It was larger than he had expected by an order of magnitude, for one thing. It was large enough to be a city in its own right, even if no other city he had seen was as strictly regimented as this one. It was easily larger than Ponyville had been during his childhood, anyway.

But it still seemed lesser, somehow, compared to Ponyville. The buildings, while well-constructed and solid, were all unpainted and unmarked, except for a few signs here and there indicating their function. The one he had awoken to find himself in was labeled POST-OP.

And they were all of that same, low-slung type, just tall enough to allow easy movement for normal ponies. Spike was nearly twice the length of any stallion when on all fours, and walking like that now was incredibly painful due to his injuries, so he was forced to remain on his hind legs. He had a feeling he'd be bumping his head on things a lot while he was here.

Besides the low, undecorated buildings, there was the wall. It looked as though all the wood that hadn't been employed in constructing the fort's facilities had gone into making the wall as high and solid as possible. It encircled the entire base, and looked to be at least five yards high at its lowest point.

In the weird half-light of what Spike was, for lack of a better word, forced to call "day", it was hard to make out too many details of anything. There were definitely ponies patrolling the wall's ramparts, and towers dotted here and there to provide better vantage points. The fort was bustling with activity, but Spike couldn't make out any details of anypony's features, or what they were doing, unless they came close to him. There were a few lights installed at what looked like the intersections of common lanes of traffic, but they were oil lamps, not particularly strong. Most of the base was a collection of shadows and shapes, nothing more.

Despite the wrongness of the sky - Spike doubted he would ever stop feeling that lurch of dread when he looked up to see both the sun and the moon overhead at the same time - and the pain of his injuries, though, it felt good to be outside again. It was like a weight that he hadn't even been aware of was being lifted from his shoulders. The Tangle had been a claustrophobic mess of thorns, the castle was crumbling, dust-filled, and cramped, and both of them had been utterly, absolutely dark. Even the fort's post-op building had been dark and small. Now he could see, even if it was dim, and he could stretch his wings. It felt good.

To his mild surprise, even the ponies that came close enough to see him fully didn't seem too alarmed by his presence. They were wary, and gave him curious looks, but nothing more than that. They didn't stop to stare, but instead hurried on their ways.

"Reveille made an announcement as soon as we got you here," Pith said, catching sight of his expression. "Nobody's to bother you. He's not convinced you're not going to start eating them if they manage to annoy you."

The two of them were walking along - or, in Pith's case, limping along, as his left foreleg was heavily splinted and he was attempting to keep his weight off of it - behind a yellow-coated unicorn mare wearing a jacket the same olive color as Reveille's coat. The Colonel had gone to organize a formal debriefing for Pith and Spike, leaving the two of them alone in the lobby with Compass Rose and Doctor Grey. There hadn't been much in the way of conversation; Compass had simply gotten up and walked back towards the beds after a while, and Grey had been wrapped up in filing patient reports, or something of that sort.

Just as Spike had found himself starting to doze off, the unicorn mare had arrived, introduced herself as "Lieutenant Pencil Pusher, aide-de-camp to Colonel Reveille" in a brusque, professional tone, and informed them that the Colonel was ready for the debriefing. Now, they were following her across the camp as quickly as they could with Pith's limp.

"I don't eat ponies," Spike said with a snort. "Like I said, normal food with some gems mixed in. Though..." His stomach rumbled, and he saw Pith try to suppress a smirk. "I am getting pretty hungry."

"Gems, unfortunately, are in rather short supply," said Pencil Pusher. Spike blinked and looked back to her. The unicorn was looking at him over the top of her spectacles as she walked along. Apparently she knew the area well enough to not have to look where she was going. "They are not, all things considered, particularly high on the list of critical resources for a military installation. However, if you are capable of digesting more normal food, I am sure Colonel Reveille is willing to authorize your use of the mess hall."

Spike stared at her for a moment. "What's a mess hall?"

Pencil Pusher turned to face forward again. "The cafeteria."

"Oh." Spike blinked, then grinned. "Well, thanks."

"Don't thank me," said Pencil Pusher. "If you have to thank anyone, thank the Colonel. He is the one who issued the order. Here we are."

The unicorn came to a halt in front of another wooden building. This one was slightly larger than the rest, and the sign over the door proclaimed it to be ADMINISTRATION. A pair of earth ponies, both holding spears and wearing the same design of green jacket as Pencil Pusher, flanked the doorway. They saluted as she approached, and one of them pushed the door open.

The inside of the administration building was, at least, better lit than the post-op, with more lamps in more places. It was still very low-slung, though, and Spike found himself once again half-crouching to keep from bashing his head on anything. The situation was made even worse by the fact that this building was much busier than the post-op; even in this room, which was just a lobby, ponies of all descriptions, all wearing the same olive jackets, were rushing back and forth, carrying papers and packages as they trotted in and out of the doors leading further into the building. A few of them paused momentarily to eye Spike, but they didn't say anything, and didn't stop for long.

There was only one desk in this room, set against the far wall. A young earth pony was standing behind it, and perked up as Pencil Pusher approached. "Lieutenant," she said, giving a brief salute. "The Colonel is waiting for you. Room twelve."

"Very good," said Pencil Pusher. She gestured for Spike and Pith to follow her again, then led the way through one of the doors. Spike had to duck down even further than usual to get his head under the lintel, but he managed it.

The hallway on the other side was even busier than the lobby. It seemed like the walls had more doors in them than actual wall, and ponies were constantly emerging from one door and darting into another. There was a constant murmur of noise; voices, the scratching of pen on paper, the shuffling of forms, and the thudding of hoofsteps on wood all filled the air.

Eventually, Pencil Pusher reached a door towards the end of the hall and stepped through, Spike and Pith following in her wake.

Inside was a large, circular table surrounded by chairs. Colonel Reveille was seated on the far side of it. The pegasus had donned one of the now-familiar olive jackets, which was almost indistinguishable against his coat, along with a flattish cap with a bronze star affixed to it.

He wasn't the only one in the room. A young-looking earth pony was seated next to him, sorting through a stack of papers, and an orange-coated earth pony stallion wearing a jacket and cap identical to Reveille's was pacing the floor behind Reveille. All of them looked up as they entered.

Spike stepped aside to make room for Pith, who saluted with his good leg as he entered. Reveille grunted. "Wondered when you'd show up," he said, waving one hoof to the other chairs. "Sit. We've got a lot of questions to go through."

Pith took a seat without hesitation. Spike, on the other hand, eyed one of the spindly-looking chairs, then said, "I think I'll stand, thanks."

Reveille grunted again as Pencil Pusher took a seat beside him. "Suit yourself," he said, shrugging. Now that they were in an area with better lighting, Spike could see that the pegasus was much older than he had seemed at first. His mane had several grey hairs in it, and there were several noticeable lines on his face. Even combined with his small stature, however, this failed to dull the sheer magnitude of his presence. He still seemed to command attention just by existing.

Pencil Pusher cleared her throat, and the earth pony shuffling the papers looked up abruptly. "Begin the minutes," the aide said. "Debriefing of Scout First Class Pith Helmet and..." She glanced sidelong at Reveille, who shrugged. She sighed and continued, "Spike the dragon. Personnel in attendance: Colonel Reveille, Defense Corps; Captain Long Road, Reconnaissance Corps; Lieutenant Pencil Pusher, aide de camp."

The earth pony, who was apparently some sort of secretary, started to write on one of the many pieces of paper in front of them at a furious pace. The rest of the ponies in the room ignored him. It was the Reconnaissance Corps Captain who spoke next.

"Right, let's make this quick," he said. "I've got critical reports coming in from the other forts, as well as our own scouting parties to manage. The changelings are moving. I've got to stay on top of this, or we're going to get blindsided hard."

Reveille nodded. "Noted. We'll start with the scouting report, then, so if anything critical comes up, you can leave."

The Captain nodded, then turned to look at Pith. "Report, then. And it's good to see that you and Tailspin survived, by the way. The Recon Corps can't afford to lose any more of its operatives."

Pith saluted with his good leg. "Thank you, sir." He cleared his throat, then, in a surprisingly brisk tone, began, "We left Fort Maneholdt six days ago, headed into the Tangle in search of the castle-like structure that High Winds reporting finding during his previous flyover. Ordinarily, it would have only been an eight- or nine-day trip, but as we were accompanied by an untrained member of the Intelligence Corps, we made allowances for a full two weeks. On the sixth day, we stumbled across-"

Spike was only half-listening as Pith recounted their journey. Part of him was still a bit surprised at Pith's sudden professional tone. He was used to the stallion speaking slowly and carefully, not in this clipped, rapid manner. Another part of him was wondering how the ponies of this new not-Equestria told the time with the sun and the moon both hanging stationary in the sky. The rest of him was thinking about Twilight Sparkle.

He frowned at the memory of how easily he had been taken in by Queen Chrysalis' disguise. The changelings couldn't possibly have gotten into the castle before they had, and he knew it. He had even seen that the resin around their makeshift nest had been wet at the time of his arrival. Beyond that, Twilight Sparkle's journal had stated that she was leaving to face King Sombra, not Queen Chrysalis. Every sign had pointed to it being a trick.

So why had he fallen for it?

Because you wanted to, said a tiny voice in the back of his brain. You didn't want to accept that you could lose another friend. You've never wanted to accept that you would lose any of them. You would wake up every morning and keep your eyes shut for as long as you could just to pretend Rarity would be there when you opened them. You stopped visiting Sugarcube Corner because you knew Pinkie Pie wasn't there any more.

You didn't want to believe Twilight was gone, so you took the easy out. You still don't want to believe it.

A sudden flare of pain from the wound on his stomach brought him back to reality.

Pith was still giving his report. "...entity calling itself Queen Chrysalis," he was saying. "It appeared to be an... alicorn changeling, and referred to itself as the 'mother' of the other changelings."

He paused. Reveille and Road were staring at him.

After a moment, Reveille said, "The queen of the changelings is an alicorn." He thumped a hoof on the tabletop. "And now she's mad. Fantastic. That's fantastic. We can't even handle one hostile alicorn working alone, and now we've got two, plus an army. Perfect."

Spike raised one claw and cleared his throat. Reveille's head swung around to fix him with an iron stare. "What?"

"The spell I talked about," said the dragon. "It can keep her out, too. The last time, she had to try and get the shield down by messing with the one creating it. She, ah, used the same spell on him as she did me, but we got him back to normal in time to repel the full invasion."

The pegasus seemed to relax slightly. "Well, that's one positive," he rumbled. "We've just got to hope you're right about this spell. I've got our communications center making copies of that book," he added, turning to Captain Road. "I'll need you and your scouts to start distributing them to every fort and magical research center you can find. We need everything in there figured out as fast as possible."

Road nodded, but he was frowning heavily. "I'll get them out there as fast as I can," he said. "But we may not have that much time."

"What do you mean?" Reveille's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the captain.

"I mean, that's why I'm here," Road continued. He gestured to the pony taking the minutes of the meeting, who paused in his writing long enough to spread a large map out on the table. Like the ones Compass had carried with her, it was largely dominated by a huge black splotch marked "The Tangle", but this one also had the locations of what Spike guessed were other fortresses marked on it. Most of them, including the one labeled "Fort McHoofry", were on the western side of the Tangle, and were arrayed in a line around it like a cordon.

Road leaned forward and began to point out spots on it. "We've been spotting changeling flights converging on the Tangle ever since late last night, originating from here, here, here, and here. They're all heading towards the Tangle. It's a safe bet that they're massing for an offensive."

Reveille scowled. "So what you're saying is that our dragon here kicked the hornet's nest in a big way."

"Essentially," said Road, shooting a sidelong look towards Spike, who frowned. He looked back to the map and continued, "As of now, they haven't actually reached the Tangle yet, and it'll be a few days before they do. We have several Defense Corps flights running interference, trying to delay them as long as possible and prevent as many as we can from reaching the safety of the vines. So far, we've been able to stop about three quarters of them, but more and more reports are coming in all the time, and their numbers are growing rapidly."

The colonel propped up his chin on one hoof and peered across the table at Pith and Spike. "So," he said, apparently to the room at large, "we're about to get hit hard, and we don't know where yet. We've got no guarantee that this spell, even if it does exist, will work, and even if it does work we probably don't have the unicorns necessary to keep it running everywhere we need it." He pointed at Spike with his free hoof. "This would be a great time to start giving us details on that superweapon you were talking about."

Spike huffed. "I'm not sure I'd call them superweapons. I mean," he added quickly, seeing the colonel's expression darken, "they're powerful, and they were used to save Equestria from major threats multiple times. But, uh, 'superweapon' sort of... isn't the right wo-"

"You said 'they'," Reveille interrupted.

"Yes," said Spike, nodding. "The Elements of Harmony. Plural. There are six of them. You need all of them together for them to work, but when you do, they can do almost anything. They stopped the Mare in the Moon twice, in fact, a long time ago."

The ponies all blinked and stared at him for a moment. Several of them, Pith included, looked impressed. Spike smiled faintly and continued, "Yeah, they're strong. We could have used them to defeat Queen Chrysalis before, too, but she stopped us from reaching them, so we had to rely on the shield spell. But there's a catch."

Reveille sighed. "Of course there is," he said, waving a hoof. "There always is. What is it?"

"The Elements can only be used by the ponies who, uh, act as their bearers, I guess would be the way to put it. Like I said, there are six of them." Spike raised one hand and began to count off on his claws. "Loyalty, Generosity, Kindness, Laughter, Honesty, and, uh-" he realized that he had run out of claws, lowered his hand, and finished "-Magic. Bring them together and their bearers have more power than pretty much anypony else ever could."

He was aware of a telling silence. Everypony in the room was staring at him. Captain Road had a faint smirk playing around his features. Pith simply looked blank.

After a second, Colonel Reveille said flatly, "Kindness and laughter."

"Yes," said Spike, a bit of defensiveness entering his tone. "The Elements are powered by the friendship that brings their bearers together. It may sound strange, but believe me, it's true. Before I fell asleep, I knew the six mares who used them. The magic of friendship is... strong." He lifted one claw and pressed it against the ruby necklace. "My wife was one," he added quietly. "Rarity, the most generous pony I've ever met. Twilight was Magic."

The pegasus sighed heavily and rubbed at his face with both hooves. "Right," he grumbled. "So this superweapon, which is powered by friendship, consists of six parts, of which we possess exactly zero. Beyond that, even if we had all six, we don't know who, if anypony, is capable of using them."

"Nooooooot quite," Spike said slowly. Reveille looked up sharply, waiting for him to continue.

"I think we already have one of them," the dragon continued. He turned to look at Pith, who blinked at him.

"What, me?" The stallion stared. "What are you talking about?"

"Yes, do tell," said Captain Road.

Spike cleared his throat. "The crystal tree that Pith was talking about using a branch from was the Tree of Harmony," he said. "It's where the Elements of Harmony originally came from. They were crystals taken from that tree. While I was being, uh, controlled by Queen Chrysalis, it looked like he was just swinging a stick around. When he hit me with it, though, I saw the crystal, along with a flash of light." He paused. "It was two colors: white and blue. The exact same hues of the coats of the last ponies who used the Elements of Loyalty and Generosity." He tapped his claw against the ruby again. "I should know," he added quietly. "I never forgot the color of Rarity's coat."

"So you think I'm one of the ponies that can use these," Pith said. He didn't sound as though he believed it.

Spike nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I do. Possibly more than one. It might have something to do with why the Tree gave you one of its branches. And you risked your life to try and save your friends, even though it meant running into a castle full of changelings. That's pretty loyal."

"Right, right." Reveille held up both hooves, putting a halt to the discussion. "Argue on whether or not it might be him later. Seems to me that step one is to find these things, and fast. Preferably before this Chrysalis comes and stomps us off the face of the planet." He raised an eyebrow and looked up to Spike again. "Any idea where they'd be?"

Spike looked down to the map spread out on the table and frowned. "I've got a couple possibilities," he said. "But I'd need to talk to Compass to figure out exactly where they are on this map."

"Compass Rose," the colonel said sharply, "is currently confined to the post-operative care unit, awaiting examination by Doctor Grey to assess her status, both physical and mental. It took me several hours of arguing to get her to agree to this, and she needs it badly. She may not be as close to death as the other casualty of your little expedition-" Spike heard the hiss of indrawn breath from Pith, and saw Captain Road frown "-but the type of stress that she's been through and the type of injury she has sustained are no less severe overall." He waved a hoof over the map. "Make your best guess. We can ask for her input later."

The dragon sighed, then turned his attention back to the map. "There are two possibilities, really." He jabbed at the map with one claw, indicating a spot somewhere around where he guessed Canterlot to be. "They could be around here, in Canterlot. It used to be the capitol of Equestria, and it's where the Elements were kept when they weren't in the Tree. That's the closest of the two."

"And the other option?" Captain Road prompted.

Spike frowned more deeply. "The Crystal Kingdom," he said. "But I don't see it on the map. It would be somewhere around here, though." He pointed towards the edge of the map, where an area of blankness had been filled in with black.

He heard Reveille groan, and looked up to see the colonel rubbing at his face with his hooves again. "This just gets better and better," he was mumbling. "Of course they'd be in there."

"In where?" asked Spike. He tilted his head to one side. "It's blank."

"It's blank," said Captain Road, "because we can't scout it. That's nightmare fog. A solid sea of black all the way to the horizon. All we know is the scouts we send into it don't come back, the scouts we send over it say there's no other side, and the scouts we send near it talk about the worst monsters anywhere in the world."

Spike felt a shiver run down his spine. If that was what had become of the Crystal Empire... it explained a lot.

Twilight, please, please, please don't be dead.

He shook his head and pointed back to the mountain range. "Then we start here," he said firmly. "Canterlot. It's closer, safer, and even if they aren't there, it was an important part of Equestria that Twilight spent a lot of time in. There might be something useful there, even if it's just more information on what happened."

Reveille sighed and propped his chin up on one hoof again. "Fine," he said. "That's a start, anyway." He glanced towards Pith and added, "I'm assuming you're going to tag along."

Pith saluted again. "Yes, sir," he said, still in that same surprisingly quick tone. "Even if I wasn't tied up in this, which it looks like I am, I'm no good here with a busted leg, and I'm not about to let the dragon that saved my life wander off alone."

Spike felt a surge of gratitude towards the stallion, but before he could say anything, the pegasus was speaking again. "If you insist," he said. "Give us a few days to get supplies together for the two of you."

Pith looked surprised. "The two of us, sir?"

Reveille gave him a blank look. "Were you planning on taking someone else?"

"I've always worked with Tailspin-"

The colonel cut him off with a raised hoof. When he spoke, his voice was firm, but surprisingly gentle, given his usual brazen tones. "I'm aware of that, scout," he said. "But, to be blunt, your partner is on death's door, and Doctor Grey is not entirely certain that she will even survive the night. She is in no condition to travel, pending a miracle, and, as much as it pains me to say it, you may want to go and see her while you have the opportunity."

Pith's face was ash-gray, but he managed a nod in reply.

The colonel stood abruptly. When he spoke again, his voice was back to its usual sharp, commanding self. "That will be all," he said, as he made his way towards the door. "You are dismissed. Speak to Lieutenant Pusher if you have any further issues."

And the door slammed behind him as he left.


Tailspin had never felt so tired in her life. The exhaustion was more than physical; every fiber of her being wanted to just sleep and never, ever have to wake up. Every breath of air took more effort than anything she had ever done before, and it just kept getting harder.

So why wasn't she stopping?

Despite her utter, complete lack of energy or will, her lungs continued to operate. It felt almost as though someone else were doing it for her.

She wished they would stop. She wanted to sleep.

Tailspin drifted in the blankness for what felt like an eternity. She lost count of how many breaths she had taken, how many unwanted heartbeats had passed. She didn't know where she was or what had happened. She just wanted to sleep.

Then she heard the sound of someone crying.

Slowly, over the course of several minutes, Tailspin managed to force her eyes open. The sound of crying didn't abate during that time, though it did grow slowly quieter. It was coming from somewhere to her right.

It took a long time for her to register that she was back in the fort infirmary. It took even longer for her to get up enough energy to tilt her head to the side and spot the source of the sobbing.

The divider between her bed and the one that the weeping figure was lying on had been left open. It was Compass Rose. The unicorn was curled up on her cot, fore hooves over her face, and fighting to control her tears.

Tailspin opened her mouth, attempting to call out to her, but no sound emerged. She tried again, and again, but her mouth was simply too dry to produce any sort of sound. Every time she tried, she felt herself coming closer and closer to slipping into unconsciousness, but she didn't stop. She was still utterly, absolutely exhausted, but now she knew that she was needed.

Finally, she managed to produce a weak squeaking sound, just loud enough to be heard over Compass' sobs. The unicorn looked up abruptly and turned her head to look at Tailspin, then leapt up and dashed to her bedside.

Compass looked like she had been through the worst day of her life. One of her eyes was blackened, her mane was matted and tangled, her coat was soaked in sweat, and her face was streaked with tears. Tailspin, though, couldn't look at anything but the broken horn in the center of the unicorn's forehead.

"You're awake." Compass' voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. She sounded tired, nearly as tired as Tailspin felt, but there was no mistaking the relief there.

"Y-" It was an incredible struggle just to produce that one sound. Tailspin paused for a moment, gathering her strength, and tried again. "You-"

Compass shook her head rapidly. "Don't talk," she murmured. "I'll get you some water."

Tailspin shut her mouth again. She couldn't muster up the energy to manage a nod, or even a smile. She just had to hope that Compass understood how grateful she was.

There was a pitcher on the table beside Compass' bed. Tailspin watched as the unicorn walked towards it, paused, then leaned in to pick it up in her mouth rather than use her magic. The sight of her clumsily attempting to fill a glass made the pegasus wish that she were somewhere, anywhere else. But she didn't shut her eyes or turn away.

Compass walked slowly back to Tailspin, slipped one leg under the pegasus' head, and held her up to pour a small measure of water past her lips. The glass, at least, was being held up via magic, but the aura around it was faint and flickered rapidly. Tailspin could feel Compass shaking with the effort of keeping it airborne, and drank quickly to spare her any unnecessary strain. The icy sensation made her head swim, but she drank as much as she could. She didn't want to have to ask Compass to do it again.

Finally, the unicorn let out a long breath and lowered the glass onto the bedside table. Then she sank onto her haunches and bowed her head, panting heavily.

"Thank you," Tailspin whispered hoarsely. It still took more effort than she could believe to force the syllables out, but at least she could speak now, and she couldn't imagine not saying anything after Compass had put herself through so much to help her.

Compass let out a small, choked sound and shook her head. She didn't look up at Tailspin as she said, "Don't thank me. Please don't. This... this was all my fault." Tears were streaming down her cheeks again. "If I didn't insist on making this expedition, none of this would have happened. And you - you wouldn't..."

"You're hurt," Tailspin murmured, still fighting to stay conscious. Even in her only semi-conscious state, she recognized that "hurt" was not nearly strong enough a word to describe what had happened to Compass. "And you helped me anyway. That's worth a thank you." The world was trying to slide out of focus. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the unicorn in sight.

"I'm only hurt because I told Pith to do it," Compass said. She opened her eyes, but didn't look up. She just stared at the floor and sobbed for a moment. Tailspin couldn't think of anything to say.

Compass broke the silence on her own accord anyway. The words came out of her in a jumbled, frantic rush. "If I hadn't insisted that somebody go to check out the castle, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't insisted on coming along, I wouldn't have slowed you down when the changelings attacked, and you could have escaped. If I had been paying less attention to the books and more to where Pith and Spike went, they wouldn't have gone off alone and gotten captured. And if I'd been able to - to not be completely useless at the end, I could have gotten you out of the cocoon and kept... kept this..."

She shook her head again and closed her eyes tightly. "I had Pith break the resin off my horn, even though I knew what would happen, because magic was the only thing that could help and I couldn't let you die for trying to save me. I shouldn't have come. I'm not one of you. I'm not a soldier or a scout. I shouldn't have been there, and it's my fault this happened to you." She took a deep, shuddering breath. When she spoke again, her voice was almost as quiet as Tailspin's. "I'm sorry. Just please don't thank me for anything. I can't... I can't stand it."

For a few long seconds, Tailspin just watched her cry again. Then, with every ounce of strength she could muster, she forced one of her legs to move and placed her hoof on Compass' shoulder. The unicorn froze at the touch.

"You." Tailspin wet her lips and tried again. "You are one of us." She pressed weakly down on Compass' shoulder. Some part of her recognized that her leg looked almost skeletally thin, and her coat was fading to grey. The rest didn't care. Compass needed her. Her own weakness could wait. "You saved my life." She paused for a moment, blinking slowly as unconsciousness started to close in again, and forced herself to finish before she passed out once more. "You gave up your horn. To save me."

She was out of energy now. She felt her eyes drift closed, despite her best efforts to keep them open. "You are one of us," she repeated, not entirely sure whether or not she was speaking the words or just thinking them. "You earned us."

And she drifted into the blackness.

12: The Best Years Of Our Lives

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Part of Spike marveled at how easy it was to focus on something as irrelevant as the time when Tailspin was lying just two beds away. His brain didn't seem to want to come back to the present. It kept drifting outside, to the stars. Pencil Pusher had explained that, while the sun and the moon were both motionless, the stars still moved at a steady pace.

It had been almost the middle of the night when Colonel Reveille had come into the infirmary to see Spike for the first time. That had been why he wasn't wearing his uniform, Spike supposed; he'd been sleeping until someone had gone to fetch him about the dragon. By the time the debriefing had been organized, the administration center was filled with ponies rushing about to get the necessary reports on his arrival sent out to all the other fortresses, to get copies of Twilight's spellbook made, and to send word of what they had found in the Tangle.

Now it was what passed for night again, which meant that all the blinds were pulled and the sound of activity outside had been reduced to the occasional sound of hoofsteps passing by. Spike was back in bed, lying in silence like he had for most of the day. There wasn't much else to do, and nowhere else to go, even if he had the energy with the burning wounds in his gut sapping most of his strength.

Pith's bed was the next over, but it was empty. The earth pony was sitting next to Tailspin's, motionless, and had been since they got out of the meeting with Colonel Reveille. Spike had tried sitting beside him for a while, but the pegasus was utterly, absolutely still. The only motion she made was the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Spike hadn't thought it was possible for anyone to look worse than Compass Rose did after their escape from the changelings. Tailspin managed it. The cocoon had done something to her. Her flame-red coat had faded to a dull rust color. She had always been small and sleek, but now she was gaunt and skeletal, like someone had hollowed her out inside.

It hurt to look at her. It hurt worse to look at Pith's expression. It was one that he was far too familiar with.

After a while, when he couldn't take it any longer, he had moved to his own bed and tried to get some sleep. Now he was drifting in a haze of exhaustion, unsure whether he was half-asleep and remembering or fully asleep and dreaming. He was also unsure as to whether or not it made any difference. He simply lay there and let the images play through his mind, listening to the quiet, ragged sound of Tailspin's breathing.


The first real funeral he had attended, the first one for someone close to him, was Rarity's.

Spike, I'm so sorry.

Rainbow Dash's face came back to him. That expression, those words, the exact rhythm and inflection... that moment had burned itself into his memory. Rainbow Dash, one wing crumpled up underneath her at an unnatural angle, looking up at all of them with tears streaming down her face. She had been begging, pleading with them. She had wanted forgiveness, as if there were anything to forgive.

She sent me away. She used her magic, I couldn't-

He had screamed at her before running off into the hallways to search for Rarity. He wasn't proud of it, but at that moment, the emotions that had welled up in him had demanded release, and Rainbow Dash had been there. The perfect target. She was already blaming herself. It was easy for him to do the same.

He had found her, later, and apologized. She had forgiven him, and he knew she really had let it go, but he had never forgiven himself for that. Rainbow Dash, for all her teasing and attitude, had loved Rarity as much as anyone. He knew, and she knew, that she would have stayed with Rarity if she could have. Even if it had cost her life, she would have stayed.

That was why Rarity had magicked her away. She had given Rainbow Dash the opportunity to live a life that she never would. A final gift, and it was a gift, even if it hurt Rainbow that badly to receive it.

He remembered finding her, right in the center of it all. People had told him that the dead often looked as though they were sleeping. Rarity hadn't. Her eyes were open and glassy, staring at nothing, her mouth was hanging open dumbly, and the great, gaping hole in the center of her chest left no room for doubt. He had clutched her to his chest and begged her to wake up anyway.

There had been two funerals for her. One had been the memorial service in Canterlot. Ponies had traveled from all over Equestria to pay their respects to her, and to him. All four of the Equestrian princesses had stood with him, above the proceedings. They had offered him their support. None of them had seemed to understand that being there, forced to watch as other people mourned his wife, unable to do so himself because he had to appear strong and dignified, had hurt him almost as badly as finding her body.

The second funeral, and the one that he privately considered to be the only real one, had been several days later, back in Ponyville. Rarity's body had been buried in Canterlot, in the memorial cemetery that held all of Equestrian history's greatest heroes and heroines. Princess Celestia had insisted, and he hadn't had the strength to tell her he would have preferred to keep her in Ponyville.

Pinkie Pie had understood. She had always been strange, but she had always understood. So, after a few days had passed, she threw a party.

A wake, she had called it. It had been small, just their small circle of friends, with a picture of Rarity hung on one wall decorated by streamers. It was everything that Pinkie Pie's parties had always been: far too colorful, full of games and singing, loud, obnoxious, and absolutely, utterly perfect.

Rarity had always loved Pinkie's parties. She had been very loud and vocal in stating how uncouth and messy they were, but she had always loved them. They were loud and undignified, full of junk food and silly games, but, more than how to throw a party, Pinkie had always known when to throw a party. And she had always done it for all the right reasons. It was a release for all those desperate emotions that had no other outlet, and he and Rainbow Dash had danced like there was no tomorrow precisely because, deep down, they had hoped that there wouldn't be.

And when the party had gone on so long that they couldn't possibly go any longer, Pinkie had led them out to the backyard behind Carousel Boutique, and they had poured out a whole barrel of Applejack's best cider and just drank themselves into oblivion. They had left one mug out "for Rarity". Spike had poured it out over the dirt when he woke up the next morning.


The sound of quiet voices roused him out of his dozing. He blinked muzzily and lifted his head, peering around in the dimness. Pith was still sitting by Tailspin's bedside, holding one of her hooves between both of his like he was afraid to let go. Compass' bed was empty, and Spike could hear her whispering back and forth with Doc Grey behind one of the dividers. There was a soft rustling of papers, followed by the sound of the two ponies walking off to somewhere else.

Tailspin's breath hitched for a moment, and Pith's head jerked up. Spike could tell that he was hoping that she had woken up, but she hadn't. After a few seconds, her breath settled back into its former shallow rhythm. Spike lowered his head to the pillow again and let sleep claim him once more.


He had kept Carousel Boutique just as it was, or as close to it as he could manage, ever since the wake. Sweetie Belle had been wonderful about visiting him and helping him to keep the place clean, as had Rainbow Dash. The three of them had leaned on each other heavily during the initial shock of their joint loss, and they grew closer together in the years that followed.

As much as Spike knew that all of their friends had been deeply and irreparably hurt by Rarity's death, he only felt comfortable sharing his own pain with the two of them. Rainbow Dash had been there right until the end, and she was as utterly crushed by it as he had been. The bearer of the Element of Loyalty had been unable to even stay beside her friend when she needed to most. More than that, she had been actively sent away for her own protection. The crippling of her wing was a minor scrape compared to that pain.

Sweetie Belle had lost her older sister, the pony that she had looked up to and attempted to emulate for years. Spike was just grateful that Rarity had gotten to see her sister perform in Canterlot before it happened, and that she had taken the time to say how proud she was. If those words had gone unsaid, they would have regretted it forever.

They couldn't spend all their time together, of course. Even with her crippled wing, Rainbow had spent most of her time with the Wonderbolts. She acted as an instructor, then, rather than their star performer, but she was still recognized as one of the greatest athletes in the history of the organization, and remained one of its most respected members. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle was spending most of her time on tour. But they always kept in touch. Rainbow Dash visited in person at least once a month, and Sweetie kept up a regular correspondence with him via mail for the rest of her life.

It was another thirty years before Spike had to attend any more funerals that painful. There were others, of course; Granny Smith had been the first, departing quietly in her sleep while surrounded by loving family members. Applejack had been utterly crushed by the loss, but had stepped up as head of the family regardless. It took several months before Spike realized that she had essentially lost her parents all over again, and his respect for her strength only grew with that realization.

Then there had Cranky and Matilda Donkey. Filthy Rich eventually succumbed to some sort of heart condition that was apparently common in his family; Diamond Tiara had thrown the biggest farewell party for him that money could buy, but Spike had seen the smaller ceremony afterward, the one that she hadn't planned for anyone to know about. Silver Spoon, Featherweight, Snips, Snails, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle all attended. They had never been close to one another before, but after that night, all of them were seen visiting one another regularly. Diamond Tiara even married Snails a few years later, and the two of them left Ponyville for the opportunity for him to work as a head chef in Canterlot. His escargot was the single most expensive dish on any menu in the city, and it still sold like mad.

There were other weddings, too. Spike's memory tripped over itself momentarily as it ran through a list of them. Rainbow Dash had married another member of the Wonderbolts, a stallion named Soarin. Big Macintosh and Cheerilee married a few years later, followed by Applejack and a scrawny-looking city colt named Inkwell. They had made for an odd couple, but they were obviously happy. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie had never married, though Fluttershy had eventually moved in with a stallion from Appleloosa and married him in all but the most technical sense. Twilight had never even considered the notion, as far as he knew, though he had heard rumors - which she always emphatically denied - involving a member of the royal guard.

Then there were the children. Applejack, Big Macintosh, and, eventually, even Apple Bloom all had multiple foals during their lives. Apple Bloom had eventually married Snips, and the two of them had built a barber shop together. Scootaloo and Featherweight had a foal as well, a young colt who surprised both his parents by becoming one of the best flyers the Wonderbolts ever saw. Spike had never seen Rainbow Dash as proud as the day her "nephew" had won the gold for cross-country flying in the Equestria Games, breaking the record she had set more than a decade previously. It probably helped that she was the one who trained him.

And so the years had passed. But then there had been the day where Fluttershy had been hospitalized. She had never been the most physically fit pegasus. Despite her healthy eating habits and exercise, she had always been frail and small. In Spike's head, the memory of the way she had looked in that hospital bed mingled with Tailspin's appearance now, until the two were nearly indistinguishable. She had looked almost as grey as Tailspin, and just as diminished. She had smiled at them all and talked about how it was only natural, how she knew that she was getting older, how she could see the grey in her mane and how she couldn't fly even as well as she used to. The calm sweetness with which she said it, the way she tried to offer comfort to everyone else without flinching from the inevitable, only made them all feel worse.

They had spent the day in the hospital room with her, talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide the fact that their happiness was forced. Eventually, they had left for the night, leaving Fluttershy alone with her coltfriend. When the next morning came, she was gone.

The funeral was a subdued one. Rainbow Dash had talked about organizing a farewell performance by the Wonderbolts, but in the end, they had settled for having Sweetie Belle sing at the ceremony. Spike had never heard the song before, but Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had broken down entirely by the time the first verse was over. He vaguely remembered the first line - something about "it's time to lay your sleepy head". No matter how hard he tried, he could never find a recording of Sweetie Belle performing it.

The tune played through his head. Despite its grim association, it was soothing, calm and beautiful. The words were gone, but he remembered all of his friends gathered together and listening to it, and he smiled in his sleep.


There were more voices now. Spike shook himself awake and looked back over to Tailspin's bed. Pith was standing now. Compass Rose and Doctor Grey were on the other side of the bed, flanked by a pair of unicorn nurses. Compass was holding a collection of papers, still looking as exhausted as before. He realized, with a twinge of shared pain, that she was holding them in her mouth rather than with her magic.

"...But we'll need privacy," Doctor Grey was saying. "And quiet. If this is going to work, which we can make no guarantees of, it will have to be done perfectly. There is no room for distractions."

Spike sat up sharply, which provoked another lance of agony from his wounds. He hissed and swung off the bed to stand beside Pith.

The earth pony wasn't paying attention to him. No one was, except for a few brief glances from the nurses. "How much of a chance?" Pith said. It had a slow, steady cadence to it that suggested it wasn't the first time he'd asked the question.

Doctor Grey frowned. "More than she has now," she said. "But getting less so with every moment that you refuse to leave and let us work. I understand your desire to be here, but you cannot help her right now."

Pith opened his mouth to say something in reply, but Spike reached out and set one clawed hand on his shoulder. "We'll leave you to it, then," he said, cutting off anything that the stallion might have wanted to say. Then, very gently, he steered Pith out into the corridor between the rows of beds.

After a few moments, the two of them emerged from the door of the infirmary and into the perpetual half-light outside. Spike blinked slowly; a part of him had still been expecting to have a full night sky overhead, but the sun was still hanging overhead. It was a disorienting feeling.

Behind him, Pith had put one hoof against the wall of the post-op for support and was taking deep, steadying breaths. Spike strode over to lean against the wall next to him. He would have preferred to be on all fours, to look the stallion more easily in the eye, but his chest still hurt too much to do that. He settled for letting out a deep, rumbling sigh and saying, "I know how you feel."

"I know." Pith was staring at the dirt, not lifting his head to look at Spike. His voice was quiet and shook slightly as he spoke.

Spike raised a brow. "I'll be honest," he said, "I was expecting you to start berating me about how I couldn't possibly understand."

Now Pith raised his head. His expression hurt to look at. It was one Spike recognized. It was the same one he had seen in the mirror when he found Rarity.

"Of course you do," Pith said flatly. "You lost your wife. And she's... she's mine, in every way that matters." His voice hitched slightly as he said it.

The dragon nodded. "I knew a couple of ponies who had that sort of relationship," he said. "Fluttershy always said that the marriage wasn't as important as the feelings that go along with it. She even said it the same way you did. 'Every way that matters'."

Pith lowered his hoof to the ground. His entire body was shaking slightly, and Spike could hear the nervous energy in his voice when he asked, "And she was...?"

He knew that the stallion wasn't really that interested in who Fluttershy was, but he also knew that answering the question was important. It was the sort of question the mind came up with when it was looking for, when it desperately needed something, anything else to concentrate on.

"One of the six mares in that photo," he said. "The yellow pegasus." He smiled at the memory. "She was the pony who used the Element of Kindness. Never met anyone as sweet as her. She was always nice to everyone, no matter what." He laughed, a short puff of sound that died away too quickly. "It was almost sickening, sometimes."

Pith nodded. "Some ponies are like that," he muttered. And the two of them lapsed into that special kind of silence when all parties involved want desperately to say something, but know that there really isn't anything to be said.

After a while, the stallion asked, "How long?"

Spike blinked and looked back down to him. "How long what?"

"How long did you get with... her?" Pith lifted a hoof and pointed towards the necklace.

Without really thinking about it, Spike raised a claw and set it against the ruby. "Not long enough," he said. "I knew her for years before we married. I was just a kid when we met, and she was this gorgeous mare who owned her own store..." His eyes unfocused slightly at the memory. "It was just a crush at first, you know? Everypony knew about it, because I was terrible at keeping it a secret, and everypony thought it would go away. By the time I finally started to mature, I was convinced it would, too."

He shook his head. "It... didn't. She was still older than me, but we both started to realize that it was real, and it was worth trying." A smile played across his features as he continued, "So we did. And we got eight years together." He sighed, and his voice dropped to a low murmur. "The best years of my life."

Pith nodded slowly, looking away again. "We've been together since we were foals," he said. "Me and Tails. It's always been me and her, for almost sixteen years now." He snorted and stamped a hoof in the dirt. "And, you know, in all that time, neither of us ever said it. We never thought we needed to. I mean, when you're out there in the wild for weeks with nopony but each other, you kind of think it's not important to say."

He stamped again, harder. "I wish I had said it," he muttered, his voice becoming angry now. Spike could see the tears welling up. "I should have said it."

"Doctor Grey said she still has a chance," Spike said quietly.

"Don't give me that," Pith said. The anger was bubbling up in his words, and he kicked at the dirt now, a scowl creeping across his features. "The ponies who come out of those cocoons... even if they live, they're crippled for life. Or worse. They break inside. It sucks something out of you." Abruptly, he stopped, panting heavily, and muttered, "Something important."

Spike stared at him, frowning heavily, unable to make himself say the words drifting through his head. He remembered the talks he had with the others when Rarity had died, and especially when Rainbow Dash had gotten drunk at the wake.

It's never gonna be enough, you know, she had slurred. People talk about. About. About all the things they wanted to say. Or do. And even if you'd gotten to do all those things, even if you'd said - said everything, it wouldn't be enough. 'Cause they're still gone, and nothing can change that.

If anypony had tried to tell him that before then, before he was ready to hear it, he would have punched them. It wasn't what Pith needed to hear now. He pushed the thought down and began to search for something else to say instead.

The stallion beat him to it. "Kids?"

Spike blinked, temporarily caught off guard. "What?" He paused. "Oh. No. We thought about it, and we eventually decided we wanted them, but the only options were magic or adoption, and we never got around to either."

Pith nodded, but he was already looking away again, and Spike could tell that it had just been an attempt to get his own mind off of things. He could also tell that it hadn't worked.

The earth pony shook his head and kicked at the dirt again. The motion was made awkward by the splint on his opposite leg, but he did it again, and again, harder every time. Abruptly, he said, almost spitting the words, "I'd give anything to get her back."

Spike just nodded mutely. It was a phrase he'd heard a lot over his lifetime. Everypony said it, or words to that effect. But he had lain awake in bed at night, feeling the empty space where Rarity should have been, and wondered whether or not they really meant it.

Whether or not he did.

Pith was looking at him again, his face screwed up in pain, his eyes bloodshot and glistening. "How do you live with this?" he said. It was almost a demand, and again, Spike recognized the hopeless, hopeful look in the stallion's eyes.

He'd known it would have to be said eventually. It was what had to be said, because otherwise everypony would just lie down and die. He drew himself up, took a deep breath, and said, "It gets easier."

As Pith nodded and turned away, he looked back up to the sky and shut his eyes. Yes, it was something that needed to be said.

But that didn't make it any less of a lie.

13: Let Go

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Compass had managed to get a few hours' worth of sleep, at least. For now, that would have to be enough.

She was aware that she was probably pushing herself too hard. Scratch that; she was certain that she was pushing herself too far. When this was over, she was going to collapse on a bed and sleep for a year. At the moment, however, the key phrase was "when this was over".

She was not about to allow Tailspin to die because of her failures.

Doc Grey was determined to keep her contained within the infirmary until she had time for a proper examination, but she had acquiesced to having one of the nurses retrieve a copy of the spellbook for Compass to use. The printing presses had been quick to set up, and exact duplication of formatting wasn't a concern as making sure that everything was simply down on paper, so they were being produced quickly.

The diagrams, however, were not being reprinted. They each had to be drawn in by hoof, and that was slowing down production. Most of the copies that got finished were being shuttled out to the delivery staff as soon as the ink was dry. Compass didn't know what the nurse had to do to get her hooves on a finished copy before it could be whisked out the door, but she was infinitely grateful.

There was healing magic written here, but it was written using terms that Compass had never heard before and referenced spells that she had never heard of. She was sure that they were defined at other points in the book, but looking them up just led to more questions, as the cross-references and confusing terms redoubled upon themselves. It was maddening.

It was doubly so because she couldn't use her own magic to turn the pages, or to test out the few things that she thought she had figured out. Every time she attempted to cast a spell, even something as simple as levitation, she felt as though something was drilling into her skull. She was half-convinced that she heard a quiet crackling noise when holding up the glass of water for Tailspin. So now she was reduced to trying to manipulate the papers with her hooves and mouth. She had already torn it three times and dropped it more than she cared to remember.

For the past six hours, while Pith sat at Tailspin's bedside and Spike dozed next to them, she had been in the lobby of the infirmary, sitting at a hastily-scavenged table and poring over the pages. Her memory of the past day was fuzzy, and getting fuzzier every second as the exhaustion deepened. The point immediately after Pith had broken her horn was the worst; her head had been swimming with pure agony and she was in the midst of a nervous breakdown, but she had still managed to find a spell that kept Tailspin alive long enough to reach a real hospital.

More than that, she had cast it. She had cast that spell while being held by a dragon speeding along at unguessable velocities over hostile territory, after having just been attacked by the queen of the changelings. She was not going to surrender to exhaustion.

And, slowly, as she sat at that table and spread the pages out in front of her, something started to unfold. It was slow, oh, so slow; judging by the stars, it took three hours for the basic idea to form. But it was there nonetheless, and getting clearer.

Compass' ability to actually cast spells had been taken from her. She knew that she would have a breakdown about that at some point, but just then, something else was in control. It took that panic and pushed it to one side, considering the situation objectively.

The problem: Tailspin was dying, and she had used up whatever magic she had left in keeping the pegasus alive for this long. The solution: find a healing spell that would restore whatever the changelings had stolen, translate it into something that the medical staff could understand, and do it all within the next few hours, before the patient's heart gave out.

The first step was to find any sort of spell that could solve the problem. Not long ago - as recently as a few hours ago, to be truthful - Compass would have considered this impossible. Not only did her natural magic lend itself more towards navigation than healing, but she had never been particularly accomplished at it. She was valuable to the Intelligence division because she had a natural inclination towards maps and pathfinding, not because she was a great spellcaster. She handled logistics, not medical emergencies.

Adding in the destruction of her own horn, one eye being swollen shut, and the crushing exhaustion just made it seem all the more impossible. But she made the attempt anyway.

There was no spell in Twilight Sparkle's book about healing changeling victims. Compass assumed that she had never been forced to deal with treating such injuries, given Spike's talk about a spell that stopped their invasion cold before it even began. But there were other bits of magic here and there that were close. There was a spell for keeping the lungs and heart operating despite traumatic blood loss, and another to keep the blood oxygenated. There was one to speed the healing of damage muscles and one to flush the body of unnatural toxins.

None of them alone was enough. Even cast together, they simply cured a host of problems that Tailspin did not have. But there were pieces of them, single phrases, isolated threads of magic, that could be useful.

Magic was a tricky thing. Simply transplanting one line of a spell to another would never end well. Every component of an evocation was influenced by every other. Every piece depended on the rest. But there were laws, as chaotic and - she felt a twinge of amusement for a moment, before pushing it down and berating herself for giving in to the exhaustion - arcane as they could seem. With enough care, spells could be altered and combined. They could be created.

It wasn't easy, and it was a task rarely attempted by any but the greatest spellcasters, because it could go horribly, horribly wrong if done incorrectly. But it could be done, and Compass Rose was desperate enough to try.

Hour after hour, she worked at piecing the spell together in her head. She couldn't test it, but a large part of her felt that she didn't need to. It was probably the sleep deprivation influencing her judgment, but she felt that she could tell when a piece fit or needed adjustment. Slowly, she brought it together.

After an eternity, she felt like she had the entire spell. It was untested and uncertain, but it was there, just the same. But that was only the first part. The spell existed, now, but it still had to be translated into a form that others could use, and that was almost as difficult as creating it. No two unicorns' magic manifested the same way, but the spell had to be written so that any unicorn could use it correctly.

Compass shook off as much of her fatigue as she could, pulled a scrap of paper towards her, picked up a pen in her mouth, and began to write.


It had taken two hours to transcribe the spell, and another hour to convince Doctor Grey that it was sound. In the end, the doctor had agreed more out of lack of other options than out of confidence that the spell would actually function.

Now, finally, she was watching as Doctor Grey and her selected nurses attempted to cast it. It wasn't a simple spell, and it required a lot of power to function. Even three unicorns casting together was stretching it, but they were the only medical professionals on hand.

Before her horn was shattered, Compass would have been able to watch the threads of the spell come together as clearly as she could see the others standing in front of her. Now, though, they were faint, and she viewed them as if from a great distance away. She had to concentrate hard to make out the barest details of them.

It was like watching surgery take place, in a way. Doctor Grey, despite her age, was the most accomplished medical pony on the staff, and could still cast healing spells more easily than the nurses under her command. Even through the haze of her broken horn, Compass could see that the chief medical officer was handling most of the weight of the spell, directing its flow to where it was needed most. The nurses lent her their power and handed her various pieces of incantations for her to slot into place.

All Compass could do was to stand by and watch. The three doctors worked in silence, save for the occasional strained request for a certain line of the spell to be read out loud, or for an update on the time. The cartographer wouldn't have believed that she had enough energy left to feel nervous, but she did. She stood on the spot and jittered faintly, trying not to pester the rest with requests for updates.

It took two hours, and they were the slowest, most tortuously long hours of her life. But, in the end, Doctor Grey let out a long, tired sigh and turned a faint smile towards her.

"I think," she said, "it worked."

Compass felt the world lurch under her hooves. All she managed was a faint "Oh, good" and a nod before her reserves gave out entirely and the floor came up to meet her.


"Now, I must stress that this is not a cure," said Doctor Grey, raising a hoof. "It has not undone all the damage, and, indeed, we are still unsure of what the extent of the damage actually is, as our understanding of changeling cocoons is limited. But, at the very least, she is not going to die." She paused, frowned, and added, "Yet."

"What do you mean 'yet'?" Pith asked sharply.

The stallion was seated beside Tailspin's bed again, with Spike sitting on his own cot just behind him. Compass Rose had been moved into another section and the dividers closed, and Spike was fairly certain that he had heard some of the nurses mention sedating her.

"I mean," said Doctor Grey, frowning, "that the spell Miss Rose devised has never before been tested, because it did not, in fact, exist prior to this use. I only allowed it because it was Miss Tailspin's only chance at surviving the night, and because the investigation I did into its components beforehand indicated no serious risk of misfire." She looked down and made a few notes on a clipboard, still frowning. "We have no real idea how long it will last, or how much of a recovery it will enable. All we can really be sure of is that, for now, your partner is stable. We will need to monitor her for any complications, but for now, the prognosis is at least better than it was a few hours ago."

Pith nodded slowly. He was clutching Tailspin's hoof between his own again, holding it as if it were a lifeline. The pegasus was still gaunt and gray, but her breathing seemed to be coming easier, and Spike could have sworn that she saw her hoof move in Pith's once or twice.

Spike glanced towards the rest of the beds. "How is Compass doing, anyway?"

Doctor Grey sighed and hung the clipboard from a tiny hook on the end of Tailspin's cot. "Due to Miss Rose's constant refusal to rest for more than two minutes since her arrival, and my own busy schedule, I have not yet been able to conduct a formal appraisal of her condition. However." She cleared her throat. "Physically, she is in no immediate danger, though she is dehydrated and in desperate need of food, and it will take some time for her body to recover from the stress she has insisted in placing upon it. Her horn, however, is completely destroyed."

The dragon winced. Even though he had seen the shattered horn for himself, he had hoped that some type of recovery was possible. Doctor Grey plunged on, ignoring him. "All but the most rudimentary spellcasting is now impossible for her, and even that places an enormous strain on her. I am frankly amazed that she was able to come up with a spell as powerful as the one she did without any ability to actually cast it herself."

Spike hadn't missed the use of the word "physically". He sat patiently, waiting for the doctor to continue, while she took Tailspin's pulse. When she had finished, she gave a satisfied nod and continued, "Mentally, however, I cannot be sure. While she is apparently rational enough to be able to perform one of the greatest feats of experimental magic I have ever seen, she was more than willing to sacrifice her physical well-being to do so. I would almost call it a dangerous obsession, but I will refrain from officially labeling it as such pending a formal assessment."

She sighed and lifted one hoof to rub at her temple. "For now, she has been sedated to ensure that she gets at least some rest. I encourage the both of you to do the same. If you require anything, the nurses will be on hand to assist you."

"Thanks for everything, doc," said Pith quietly. Spike nodded his gratitude as well, but Grey just sighed.

"You are welcome, I suppose. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get going. There are other matters which demand my attention." And she trotted off towards the front of the building again, leaving Spike and Pith alone with the sleeping pegasus.


Applejack had been the longest-lived of any of their circle of friends, not counting Twilight Sparkle or Spike himself. In his dream, he found himself sitting on the front porch of the house on Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack sat beside him in her usual spot on the rocking chair. She looked remarkably like Granny Smith, though her eyes had always retained their youthful luster.

The farm itself was only vaguely present, in the same way that all dreamscapes were. He was aware of the orchard, and even of other members of the Apple family bustling about, but no details could be made out. The only real things in the world were himself and the smiling Applejack.

"So what'd y'all come to see me about, Spike?" she asked. Her voice hadn't aged like the rest of her. Whereas Granny Smith's voice had always been high and creaky, Applejack's had always remained strong.

"Just came to see an old friend," he answered. He wasn't quite sure yet whether he was dreaming or simply remembering very clearly. He wasn't entirely sure if it made a difference.

"'S that all?" Applejack laughed. "Well, I'm certainly gettin' old, that's fer sure. You still look pretty spry yerself, though." She eyed him with that familiar, knowing look she had, apparently waiting for an answer. When none came, she shrugged. "I 'magine that's what y'all came here to talk about, really."

Slowly, Spike nodded.

Applejack nodded as well, still smiling her easy smile and rocking in that steady rhythm. "Ah thought that might be it," she said airily. "Ah'd wondered when ya were gonna stop by about it." There was a long pause, full of nothing but the slow, steady creak of her rocking chair. "Ah'm very glad I got ta know ya, Spike," she continued, after a while. "And Ah'm very sorry things're the way they are."

"What way?" Spike asked. He knew the answer, but he didn't want to say it. That was why he had come to Applejack. She had always been able to say the things no one else could bring themselves to.

"That yer outlivin' all'a us," the old pony answered gently. "Ah reckon I've got about another year left in me, an' then it's just gonna be you an' Twilight. Ah know it's hurtin' ya. It has been ever since Rarity died."

Spike flinched at the memory, but he didn't interrupt. He had come to hear this, after all. Sometimes you needed platitudes, and sometimes you needed the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

"She was a good mare," Applejack said. She was staring off over the grounds of the farm, smiling faintly, her eyes a bit misty with memory. "Ah never quite saw eye-ta-eye with her on a lot'a things, but Ah loved her just the same. And Ah know how much it hurt ya when she died. Ah've known ever since Inkwell went ahead'a me."

Again, there was the prolonged silence and the sound of the rocking chair before she went on. "It's only been a year, but Ah already can't stand the big gapin' hole in mah life where he used to be. Ah can only imagine how bad it's been fer you. An' I know it's been gettin' worse all the time."

Spike shut his eyes. "Yeah," he muttered. "It has."

Applejack nodded again. "It's gonna keep gettin' worse, an' there's nothin' anypony can do about that. Ah'm sorry ya got saddled with it. Ah'd help if Ah could, but all Ah can do is sit here'n give ya some advice."

Spike opened his eyes again and turned towards her, unable to keep the look of desperation off of his face. "What advice?"

"Let us go," said Applejack flatly. "Let all'a us go. The more ya try'n hold on, the more it's gonna hurt ya, Spike."

Spike sighed and bowed his head. "It's not that easy."

"Ah know it ain't," said Applejack, her voice suddenly sharper. "If it was easy, ya wouldn't have come to me to hear me say it. You'd have done it on yer own. So Ah'm tellin' ya because I care about ya."

She lifted one bony leg and jabbed him in the shoulder with her hoof. "They're gone, Spike," she said, her voice still firm and somber. "They're all gone, an' soon Ah will be too. Rarity, Rainbow, Pinkie, Fluttershy, they're gone an' they're not comin' back."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut tightly and groaned, but said nothing.

"The more ya try'n hold on, the more it's gonna hurt," Applejack continued, not letting up. "It's gonna work on ya like a poison from the inside-out, an' it's gonna take what ya are now an' make ya somethin' else. It won't be nothin' good, neither." She paused, sighed, and said, more gently, "Yer one'a the gentlest ponies Ah ever knew, Spike, even though yer a dragon. Ya've always been sweet an' kind ta everypony, an' ya proved us all wrong with Rarity. Ya've got a lot'a love in ya, Spike, an' I don't wanna go ta my last rest knowin' yer gonna let all that pain twist ya inta somethin' else."

"I can't help hurting," Spike whispered, still not opening his eyes. "I love you too much. All of you. And I've had to lose you all one by one."

Applejack pressed her hoof against his shoulder again, more gently this time. "Ah'm not askin' ya ta stop lovin' us," she said. "Ah'm not askin' ya ta forget, neither. All Ah'm sayin' is, when ya remember us, it's okay ta hurt, an' it's okay ta wish we were still there, but it ain't okay ta let that hurt change who ya are."

Spike shook his head. "I'm... it might be too late for that," he muttered. The sound of roaring flame and the smell of burning insects filled his nostrils.

Beside him, he heard Applejack sigh. It was a low, mournful sound, and it seemed to drown out all the others. "Yeah," she said. Her voice clanged in his head like a bell. "Ah'm sorry, Spike. Ya forgot what Ah told ya, an' ya've already let it happen."

The dragon opened his eyes and turned to look at her, but Applejack was gone. In her place was himself, wearing an expression of malicious glee. When the double spoke, its voice thundered through the air.

"I will roast your children alive."

And he awoke on his cot in the infirmary, feeling his wounds fester under the bandages.

14: Need

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It took several minutes for Tailspin to realize that she was awake.

All things considered, it wasn't too different from being asleep. She still felt exhausted, and she still seemed to be drifting in the dark. The only real change was the addition of a few sensations that made her feel vaguely uncomfortable.

First there was the feeling of a slight weight on her chest, accompanied by a faint itch. Sheets. Uncomfortable, itchy sheets. And the surface she was lying on was not the softest or most luxurious bed in the world by any stretch, either.

There was also an odd pressure against her right fore hoof. It took her a few minutes of scouring her memory to place it, but she eventually recognized it as someone else's hoof touching her own.

She opened her eyes.

After the room stopped spinning, she realized that she was in one of the fort hospitals. They all tended to look the same, so there was no telling which one, exactly, but it was a good sign regardless. It also explained the itchy sheets and the uncomfortable cot. The medical corps always had to make do with whatever equipment they could scrape together. There was never enough to go around.

Her brain seemed to be turning back on one piece at a time. First came her hearing. In addition to the pressure on her hoof, there was a soft, slow, heavy breathing. She didn't even have to turn her head to know that Pith Helmet had pulled a cot up beside hers. The thought made her smile without really realizing.

There were other sounds, too, ones that were less familiar. The loudest of them - or at least the closest - was the sound of somepony else breathing, but this had a much slower rhythm, and the sound was much deeper, like rocks being crushed together rather than the simple movement of air. Spike was asleep nearby as well, then. Only a dragon could sound like that.

The dividers had been closed around her cot, which kept her from making out much other than vague shadows as other ponies passed by her makeshift sickroom. Every few minutes, one of the nurses would pass by with the sound of hoofsteps on wood.

Gradually, Tailspin became aware of voices at the very edge of hearing.

"...could have blasted a crater into the middle of the fortress for all you know," somepony was saying. Their voice was sharp and strident, by far the most audible of the ones that she could hear.

"It was an experimental medical treatment, Colonel," said a second voice. This one was quieter, more feminine, with an undertone of something that said the speaker had grown tired of the conversation several minutes before it began. "It was not a bomb. The methods with which I treat the patients under my care are mine to-"

"This is not the same as an experimental surgical treatment, Doctor," the first voice cut in. "It isn't even the same as coming up with new medicine. It was an untested, untried spell, created from a spellbook that has not yet been examined by the intelligence division, by a mare who recently lost her ability to use magic, and who is quite possibly mentally unbalanced!" The voice grew louder as it went on, and the last sentence was punctuated by the sound of somepony stamping hard. "You said yourself you have no idea of what the side effects could be, and for all you knew, that spell could have exploded and killed everyone in the infirmary!"

"Tone it down a bit, Rev," said a third voice. Tailspin recognized this one; Long Road, the Recon Corps Captain from Fort Maneholdt. He was the one who had sent them into the Tangle. "Your voice is getting up there again. This is a hospital."

"Thank you, Captain," said the mare's voice.

"Don't get me wrong," Road answered. "Rev is right. You were outta line, Doc. I respect you as a medical professional, and I know you did it to take care of your patient. I'm grateful for it. Tailspin's one of our best flyers, and she's a sweet mare. I'd've been upset if she died. But casting an untested spell created by a unicorn that had to be sedated just to get her to sit still for five minutes and rest, without even running it by your boss beforehand... There's a lotta ways that could've gone wrong."

There was silence for a few seconds, broken only by the continued deep rumble of Spike's snoring. Then the stallion called Rev said, in a slightly calmer voice, "I respect you, Doc, which is why you haven't already been fired. I'll be making a report to command about this saying that you came up with that spell and cast it with my authorization. Any problem they've got with untested magic, they can take out on me. But I want to make one thing very clear: I will not tolerate this happening again."

"Understood. Thank you, sir."

Another silence, then: "How is she?"

There was the sound of three sets of hooves approaching, accompanied by the sound of Doc's voice. "Stable, at least," she said. "I was certain that she wouldn't last the night, but Miss Rose's spell seems to have bolstered her. Her pulse and breathing-"

Miss Rose's spell. Tailspin shut her eyes and let out a long breath. Sounds like I owe her even more than I thought.

"-no idea how long recovery will really take." There was the sound of the divider to the center of the sick bay being pulled aside, and Tailspin opened her eyes to see three ponies standing in front of her, silhouetted against the dim light of one lamp.

She managed a weak smile. Beside her, there was a sudden, sharp intake of breath from Pith, and she heard the stallion move. Then he grunted, stepped off the cot with a creak, and moved to stand at the end of it, saluting with his good leg. "Colonel," he murmured. "Captain. Doc."

Captain Road saluted in return. The olive pegasus beside him merely grunted and said, "At ease, scout."

None of the three new arrivals were looking at Pith. They were all looking at Tailspin. Road was smiling faintly, while the colonel was frowning and the doctor was merely looking surprised.

"I have to say," she said, as she stepped around Pith and made her way over to Tailspin, "I wasn't expecting you to be awake so soon." She lifted one hoof and set it on the pegasus' forehead, then nodded. "Temperature seems normal. How do you feel?"

Pith spun on the spot. When he spotted Tailspin's open eyes, he gaped for a moment, then hobbled over to stand at her side and seized her hoof again. Words had obviously failed him.

They were failing her as well, at the moment. She opened her mouth to try and answer the doctor, but nothing came out except a dry hiss.

"Ah, water," said the doctor briskly. "Of course. One moment."

Tailspin's view of the world lurched suddenly. The unicorn's magic was lifting her up and placing a few pillows behind her, moving her into a sitting position. A moment later, there was a glass of water pressed against her lips, and the doctor was saying, "Small sips, please. I'll have some food brought in shortly."

The pegasus nodded mutely and drank. A moment later, the glass was being lowered, and she realized that it was Pith who was holding it. The stallion was sitting on the edge of her cot, watching her with an odd expression on his face. She wasn't sure whether he looked worried or overjoyed. Maybe both. She smiled at him, then looked back to the officers.

"Colonel," she whispered. Her voice came out as a raspy whisper. "Captain. Doctor. I would salute, but..." She attempted to lift one of her legs. It got about an inch off of the cot before she ran out of energy and let it fall back again.

"Not necessary," said the colonel. His voice was still loud and edged with anger, but he himself looked more concerned than anything. "We're here to check in on your condition, not to strain you."

Tailspin managed to move her head just enough to nod. "I'm... alive," she said. "And better than I felt before. But still..." She shut her eyes and let her head fall back against the pillows. Even talking was an effort.

"Right," said Doctor Grey sharply. "She needs rest right now. Colonel, Captain, I think it is time that you left. I will be keeping Miss Tailspin here indefinitely, until I am satisfied that she is no longer in any danger."

"Of course," said the colonel. "Scout."

"Yes, sir?" It was Pith's voice.

"The next supply shipment will arrive in three days. You'll be able to leave then."

There was a pause, then Pith repeated, "Yes, sir."

"Very good. I advise you to get some rest in the meantime." And there was the sound of the divider being closed, followed by hoofsteps moving away.

Tailspin felt Pith shift on the cot. There was a soft clinking sound as he put the glass of water aside, followed by a sudden feeling of warmth. The stallion had wrapped both forelegs around her and pulled her close. She let out a sigh and turned automatically towards him.

"I thought you were going to die," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," she answered. Her eyes were still closed. She didn't need to open them; just feeling him there was enough. But there was something else on her mind. After a few seconds, she asked, "Where are you going?"

Pith grunted and shrugged. "Some place called Canterlot. Spike thinks there could be something important there."

Sleep was closing in on her again. It was getting harder to concentrate with every second that passed. She shook herself a bit, trying to focus on her partner's breathing. "You're not going to leave me behind," she whispered, her voice slightly slurred. Even with her eyes closed, it felt like the room was spinning.

The last thing she registered before slipping back into unconsciousness was Pith giving her a gentle squeeze and whispering, "Never."


Spike sat on a bench to the side of a large open area, watching as one of the nurses helped Tailspin to limp around the yard.

He had woken up in what apparently passed for the early morning to find Pith and the pegasus sitting beside each other on a pair of cots that had been pushed together, talking quietly. Tailspin had even managed to eat a bit of food that one of the nurses had fetched for her.

She still looked gaunt and almost corpse-like, but a bit of color had returned to her coat, and she smiled much more than he had expected her to. Physically, she was obviously very much weakened, but she appeared emotionally intact. Spike was grateful for that. He had spent several hours standing outside the infirmary building with Pith, trying to pretend that everything would be all right even if Tailspin had died - or, worse, if he had been right about the cocoon breaking something inside her.

He was intimately familiar with what Pith would have gone through if it had turned out that way. He would have given anything to have Rarity survive when he found her. He thanked the stars that Pith had been spared that.

Now it was late evening, according to the nursing staff, and Tailspin had insisted on making an attempt at walking. Compass Rose was apparently still sedated, and Pith had gone to speak with Captain Road, so that left Spike to stay with her. When she had called one of the nurses over and asked to be taken outside to try and walk, he had tagged along to keep an eye on her.

The pegasus had leaned heavily on the nurse who was acting as her escort all the way out to the yard. Now she was attempting to stand without support.

For a few long seconds, it looked as though she was going to fail. Her expression was one of absolute concentration, her legs shook violently, and she was panting heavily. But she didn't fall.

Before she could take a step, though, the nurse had stepped in again to hold her upright. "That's enough," said the unicorn, frowning. "You clearly aren't in any condition to actually attempt walking unassisted."

"I just started," panted Tailspin in response. She frowned at the nurse, but accepted the offered hoof and allowed herself to be led over towards the bench.

Spike grinned at her as they approached. "That was still pretty impressive," he said. "I didn't expect you to be able to even stand for at least a few days."

The pegasus shook her head, smiled weakly, and lowered herself onto the bench next to him. She was still shaking, and she was starting to sweat. "I don't have time to lie around in bed," she said. Her voice was a dry, sandpapery rasp, but her smile remained. "We're leaving soon. I need to be able to walk."

Spike blinked. "You're coming? I thought you would be staying here and resting."

Tailspin looked up at him and squinted. "I thought Pith told you about us," she said quietly. Then she let out a soft yelp as the nurse pressed a stethoscope against her neck. "A little warning would have been nice."

The dragon shrugged. "Yeah, he did. But... you gave us all a pretty bad scare. And I know he doesn't want to lose you. Putting more strain on yourself than necessary doesn't seem like a good idea right now."

The pegasus lowered her head onto her forelegs and shut her eyes. "Doctor Grey talked to us," she murmured. "Nobody knows for sure how much of me this spell has healed, how long it will last, or whether or not I'll survive when it wears off. I'm living on borrowed time." She opened one eye and smiled up at him again. "I'd just rather spend whatever time I've got with him, doing something that matters, than sitting around in a hospital bed and worrying."

It's gonna be a party, Pinkie had said. I'd rather have my last night be having fun with my old friends than sitting in a bed and being bored. Besides, I want all of you to have your last memories of me be good ones.

"Besides," Tailspin added, "Compass went through some of the most painful things I've ever seen anypony suffer to try and save me. So did you." She glanced at the bandages on his side. "It'd be a poor way to repay you if I stayed here and let you all put yourselves in danger without at least trying to help."

Spike smiled and reached out to rest one claw against one of her hooves. "You don't owe us anything," he said.

"You're my friends," she said, sounding quite serious. "I owe you everything."

"Friends?" Spike blinked.

Tailspin blinked back. "Of course," she said, looking a bit surprised at his reaction. "It's kind of hard to go through what we did and not be friends."

Spike turned away. Now that Tailspin had voiced it, it seemed completely natural. The three ponies were his friends. Or his partners, as Pith would have put it. They had been through a lot together, even if they had only known each other a few days. He just hadn't put words to the thought until she said it.

He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "It is. But you still don't have to push yourself this hard. Compass is going to be staying here as well. She needs the rest as much as you do."

The pegasus laughed quietly. "She's not staying," she said. "She won't let anypony in need go without - or haven't you seen her horn lately?"

"Absolutely not," said a harsh voice from behind them. The two of them blinked and turned to see Doctor Grey approaching, looking sour. Behind her was Colonel Reveille. Pith Helmet was limping along in the back, frowning and doing his best to keep up.

"Neither you nor Miss Rose are going anywhere until I am satisfied as to your recovery," snapped Grey. "You should not even be out of bed-" she shot a death glare at the nurse, who flinched and backed away slightly "-and Miss Rose refuses to stay in bed unless drugged. I doubt that Miss Rose will be fit for release for at least three days, and you may be more than a week."

Tailspin shot a curious glance at Pith, who grimaced in reply. Apparently this was enough of an explanation for the pegasus, who sighed and said, quietly but firmly, "I'm going, Doctor. And Compass is, too."

"No, you aren't." This time it was Colonel Reveille who spoke. "Doctor Grey and I don't see eye-to-eye on everything, but she's right in this case. This is a time-sensitive, critical mission. You're injured and Compass Rose, even when disregarding her shattered horn, isn't a scout. You'll just slow them down and place yourselves in unnecessary danger."

Tailspin opened her mouth to protest, but Spike set one clawed hand on her shoulder. "Colonel," he said, "I think they should come. We need them."

Reveille gave him a long, measured look. "And what makes you say that?"

Spike frowned. He wasn't entirely certain of what he was about to say, but... "I think that Compass Rose is the pony who can use the Element of Magic," he said slowly. "That means, horn or not, if we want the Elements to be any use at all, we need her with us."

The olive pegasus grunted. He was still staring at the dragon with that same expression of calculation on his features, but he also looked thoughtful now. Spike was mildly surprised when he didn't demand to know why he thought that, but instead asked, "And her?" He inclined his head towards Tailspin.

"I... don't know," Spike admitted. "But I think she should come anyway. She won't slow us down. I'll carry her if I have to."

Tailspin gave him a small smile, then looked back to the two officers. Doctor Grey stamped a hoof in the dirt.

"Absolutely not," she said again. "Colonel, Miss Tailspin and Miss Rose are in no condition to travel. I cannot allow the health of my patients to be jeopardized based on a hunch, especially given that this 'critical mission' may be a wild goose chase. I may have violated protocol in casting the spell to heal Miss Tailspin, but I did it with the well-being of my charges fully in mind. This course of action is both pointless and dangerous."

Reveille didn't answer her. He was still staring at Spike. After what seemed like forever, he nodded. "Fine," he said. "They go with you."

"What?" Doctor Grey recoiled as if she had been slapped. "Colonel-"

"I have made my decision, Doctor," said Reveille sharply, his voice rising to its drill sergeant volume again. He spun on the spot and faced the unicorn directly, scowling. "If they want to go and they may be needed, they go. The dragon knows more about this than we do. That is all."

"I cannot allow-"

The colonel cut across her again. "If you want to make a formal complaint to command about this, Doctor, feel free, but I have made my decision. You are dismissed."

For several seconds, Doctor Grey stood there, mouth hanging open in shock. Then she drew herself up, snorted once, and stormed away towards the post-op.

When she had left, Reveille let out a long sigh and turned back to Spike, a pained expression on his face. The dragon frowned heavily.

"Thank you, Colonel," he began. "For trusting me. Us."

The pegasus shook his head. "Don't," he said sharply. "I just put my career on the line for this, not to mention one of my oldest and most valued friendships. I don't want your sympathy and I don't want your thanks." He took a step forward, his jaw set, and jabbed Spike in the stomach with one hoof, just below the bandages.

"What I want is for you to prove me right," he growled. "The changelings are massing up over the Tangle. They're going to hit us hard, and soon. Our colts are out there dying to keep them from getting to their home base and to bring us scouting reports. And this is all because you wanted to try and fix things."

He lowered his hoof, snorted, and turned to walk away. "What I want from you," he called over his shoulder, "is for my soldiers to not have died in vain. I don't need words of sympathy. I need you to succeed."

And he stalked away, silent.

15: Choices

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Following the argument with Colonel Reveille, Doctor Grey refused to involve herself with the group in anything more than a strictly professional capacity. She still checked in on each of them at least once per day, and Tailspin more than that, but she refused any conversation or interaction other than to check on their healing.

At least, Spike assumed that she refused interaction with all of them. He hadn't seen Compass Rose since she had convinced Doctor Grey to attempt her spell. The green-coated mare remained in her section of the infirmary, dividers closed on all sides. He could hear her pacing from time to time, and occasionally she perched on her cot, throwing her shadow against the curtain. But that was all. Other than the medical staff who walked in and out occasionally, sometimes carrying food and sometimes carrying stethoscopes and the like, no one had laid eyes on her since.

As a result, it was a surprise to all of them when, two days later, the unicorn suddenly pushed aside the dividers around their cots and took a seat next to Spike.

She had a sheaf of papers held in her mouth, which she set down with some care. Then, without saying a word, she began to spread them out over the available surface of the cot, studying each one carefully.

Spike stared at her for a few seconds. She had startled him out of his inspection of the device held in his claws. It was a watch, designed to be clipped onto one of the pockets of the jackets that the military personnel wore. Its face was unusual, depicting the sun and the moon as stationary in the center with a few prominent stars moving around them. He was just beginning to get the hang of telling time with it.

When she didn't look up, but instead set one paper down and pulled another towards herself, he looked up and quirked a brow at Pith and Tailspin.

The pegasus had attempted to walk a few more times over the past few days, but she had managed no more than a few shaky steps unassisted. They had stopped taking her outside to the yard for her attempts, so she didn't have as far to go to get back to her cot. She was always tired, now, even though she wasn't looking quite as skeletal as before. She spent most of her time sleeping.

Even when she was awake, she didn't have much energy for conversation. She mostly just lay on her cot and listened. More often than not, Pith stayed with her, and Spike had woken up in the middle of the "night" several times to find that she had fallen asleep against his chest. It seemed like they were both determined to stay as close to one another as possible for however long they had left.

They were like that again now. Pith was reclining against a small stack of pillows while Tailspin reclined against him. The cot was too small for it to possibly be comfortable, but they had been that way for hours and didn't show any signs of wanting to move. When Spike looked at them, Pith shrugged. Tailspin just watched Compass silently, looking concerned.

The dragon let out a short huff, then turned to look back at the unicorn. He was seated on one end of his cot, so she had room to spread out the papers that she was examining, but she was curled up uncomfortably on the end.

She did look as though she was improving physically. She had obviously gotten some sleep, as her muscles no longer twitched with overexertion, and her black eye had begun to fade somewhat. But her shattered horn still glittered jaggedly, and there was something flat and dead in the stare that she directed towards the papers.

The maps, he realized. Every one of the papers that the unicorn was looking at was a map. He reached out to pick one up, only to have Compass' hoof come down on it just before he actually made contact. She pulled it away, and he raised his eyes again. He was vaguely surprised to see her actually looking at him.

The black ring around her eye was fading, but her eyes themselves were still red. She had obviously been doing a lot of crying. But her gaze, despite its hollowness, was steady.

"Don't," she said flatly. "I'm trying to find out where this Canterlot place is."

Spike lifted his claw away, nodding slowly. "Do you need any help?"

Compass shook her head. Her eyes remained locked with his throughout the entire motion. "I can figure it out," she muttered, looking down again. "I saw the maps in your house. I just need to remember." One hoof prodded listlessly at a sheet of paper. "It's somewhere in that mountain range."

Spike frowned slightly. "I thought maps were your special talent," he said, confused. "Can't you rememb-"

"No, I can't remember perfectly from a map that I saw for five minutes!" snapped Compass. Her head swung up abruptly, and she turned a glare on him that was only made worse by the tears he could see building up. "Maps are my special talent, but I used to have magic to help with them, too, you know. Spells for comparisons and spells for finding distances, spells for landmark memorization, spells for... for everything. I could have this all figured out in two seconds if I still had those, but I don't any more, so I have to sit here and stare at these damn papers and try to keep myself from forcing the spells, because the last time I tried, the pain was so bad I blacked out!"

There was a ringing silence for a few seconds. Then, slowly, she lowered her gaze and shut her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and small. "I'm sorry. I just... I'm not very happy right now."

Spike half-lifted one claw. When he had been younger, and still lived with Twilight Sparkle in the Ponyville library, she had always been there to comfort him when he was upset with a gentle touch or a hug. When he had married Rarity, the two of them had shared that same sort of connection. There was some sort of comfort in simple physical contact. That was probably part of why Pith and Tailspin were so close to one another.

But Compass seemed to flinch away from his touch before he had even really moved towards her. Her whole body was a flinch. She was curled up on herself, and the thousand-yard stare she wore made it clear that she was hurt. But she didn't move towards him, or towards the other two, or even look at them. She seemed to want to be left alone.

But she had come to them, rather than the other way around.

"Sorry," Spike muttered. "It, uh, was a stupid thing to say anyway."

"No, it wasn't," Compass said, shaking her head. "It's what I'm supposed to be able to do. I'm the mare with the maps. But now I can't do it any more." She lowered her head to the cot, eyes shut. "The doctors said you want me to go with you, but there's nothing I can do to help. I'm a unicorn that can't use magic. I'm no good to anyone."

The dragon opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he heard Tailspin whisper, "I'm a pegasus who can't fly."

Compass' eyes opened, and she lifted her head to turn a worried frown on the speaker. "What are you talking about? Your wings-"

"Are about as useless as my legs right now," Tailspin interjected. Her voice was set and firm, but her expression was gentle. Spike could almost see her as Colonel Reveille, if Reveille could only speak at a whisper. "I can't even walk without help right now. I can't imagine flying. And this spell you made for me could give out at any time. I could drop dead before I finish my next sentence for all anyone knows."

Pith frowned heavily as she said it, and Spike saw his forelegs pull her in a little closer, but Tailspin didn't stop. "And we don't know if I'll ever get better. I can't offer anything to anybody right now, but I'm going anyway, because I'm needed." She lifted one hoof and pointed towards Compass. "And so are you. You're one of us. It doesn't matter if you can use your magic any more or not. We want you with us because you're our friend, and you matter."

She smiled and let her hoof fall back to the cot. "Besides," she finished, "you've still got a good head for maps, even if you can't use all those spells to help any more. We'll need that. We're a bunch of cripples who only have the job because everyone else is too busy fighting a war." She sniggered quietly, and Spike couldn't keep a brief smile from crossing his features.

Compass let out a long sigh and straightened up slowly. Her eyes were still glistening with tears, but she at least smiled at Tailspin. "Thank you," she said quietly. She looked back down to the maps and began shuffling them about with one hoof again. "I just wish there were more to go on."

"Yeah," Spike said. "I wanted to ask about that, actually. The Everfree Forest is gone. It's the Tangle now. Canterlot used to be a huge city built into the side of a mountain, but I'm guessing it's not that easy to find any more. What's out there?" He leaned over to peer at the papers.

On the maps that he had kept back in Carousel Boutique, Canterlot had rested in the center of Equestria, resting on a mountain range that extended far to the west. Ponyville was a ways to the south, with the Everfree Forest just beyond. On these maps, there was no sign of any of them. The Tangle filled the vast majority of the available space, and around its western and northern edges was a collection of areas marked with the names of different forts.

Other than that, there wasn't much that he could make out. The maps were a collection of unlabeled symbols in apparently random positions. He couldn't make head or tail of it.

"We don't really know," Compass admitted. She pushed one of the maps towards him. It was full of markings that were obviously meant to represent mountains, but all of them were surrounded by hoofwritten notations about errors in positioning or size. "Nopony's attempted to map them yet. Or, at least, if they did, they didn't do a very good job of it."

Spike picked up the paper and squinted at it. "Why is there so little information on it?"

The unicorn gave him a sidelong look. "Because," she said slowly, "while you were asleep, things apparently went bad. I know you want details, but nopony has details, because all those landmarks that were on your maps are pretty much gone, with all the information they might have had with them." She shook her head. "Our records don't go very far back, and most of the places that we haven't investigated haven't been investigated because they're too dangerous."

Spike sighed and set the map down again. "Right," he said. "The Ev- the Tangle is full of hostile plants and changelings, there's the fog to the north, and... what's in these mountains?"

"Magic," said a new voice.

Captain Long Road was shutting the curtains behind him as he stepped into their makeshift room. When Pith and Tailspin attempted to salute, he waved a hoof at them dismissively. "You don't need to do that," he said. "I'm not here as your commanding officer. You two are pretty much working on your own now." He glanced at Spike and Compass, then added, "Or not quite on your own. Whatever."

He shook his head and removed his olive cap, then turned to Spike. "I'm actually here to talk to you," he said, looking serious.

Spike blinked. "Me?" He glanced back and forth between Pith and the captain for a moment. Pith seemed just as confused as he felt. "Why me? I'm not-"

"Not a scout, no," said the captain. He sighed and tossed his cap onto the end of the cot that Pith and Tailspin were laying on. "But somepony needs to talk to you, and the other two aren't going to do it, so that leaves me." He gave a slightly embarrassed smile.

Spike studied him closely for a few seconds. Long Road was obviously younger than Colonel Reveille or Doctor Grey, but his exact age was hard to guess. He lacked any streaks of grey in his orange coat, but he did have several pronounced lines on his face.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Road gave a heavy, almost theatrical sigh, then lowered himself onto his haunches. "It's about your mission," he said slowly. "Or, uh, more accurately, about the opposite of your mission."

Spike stared, and the officer, to his surprise, squirmed on the spot. He looked more than a little nervous. "Look," he said eventually. "I want to ask you to not go."

"What?" Spike had been expecting a number of things - more questions about what the Elements of Harmony were, perhaps, or an attempt to persuade him to leave the others behind. This was not one of the possible conversations his brain had been preparing for, and it threw him for a momentary loop.

The captain scratched his mane with one hoof, not quite making eye contact. "I'm not exactly here for myself," he continued. "Or, well, not just for myself. I'm here for the colonel as well. I know I don't have the authority to order you, and I wouldn't even if I could, because I honestly don't know which choice would be the better one. But it's something that we've been talking about, and I think it needs to be said, at least."

"Think what needs to be said?" Spike tilted his head to one side, waiting for an explanation.

"That you could probably save more lives here than wandering around in the mountains," said Road. Finally, he lifted his eyes to look directly at Spike, his expression somber. "I know you want to find these Element things, but we've got no assurance that they'll actually be there. You could just be wasting your time. Whereas, if you stayed here... well, you're a dragon." He grinned. "According to Pith, you're scary when you want to be. You could save a lot of ponies."

The dragon blinked. The thought hadn't really occurred to him previously. He had been so consumed with the idea of searching for the Elements - and, with them, Twilight Sparkle - that no other possibilities had even entered his mind.

To buy himself time to think, he said, "I thought Colonel Reveille didn't trust me. He acts like he doesn't want me around."

Long Road gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Rev is... odd," he said. "Hard to get a handle on if you don't know him. The thing about him is that he's actually very simple. He considers him a commander first and foremost, and that means he thinks he's responsible for two things, and those two things control everything he says and does." He stamped a hoof. "He's responsible for the lives of his personnel, and he's responsible for the lives of the ponies this fort protects. Those two things override everything else for him, in terms of what choices he makes."

"So?"

"So," the captain said, waving a hoof, "the thing is, he wants to trust you. He wants to believe we've got a dragon on our side. He even wants to believe you can find these Element things and beat the changelings once and for all. But he can't, because he's in charge, so he's not allowed to just take you at your word. If he could, he'd send every available stallion off on this trip with you. If he didn't want to trust you, he wouldn't have come down on the doc so hard for you to get what you think you need."

He winced. "That hurt him. Rev doesn't make friends easily, you know. The doc and me are the only two ponies he talks to, and now she won't even look at him. But he did it because he wants to help you." He set his hoof down and sighed. "He's giving you every bit of help he can without actively jeopardizing the lives of the people he's supposed to protect, and it's hurting him bad to do it, because command is starting to think he's off his rocker and one of his only two friends in the world is tee'd off like I've never seen."

Spike squinted. "So why is he doing all this, if it's that bad?"

"Because he wants you to be right." Long Road's voice had the tone of a schoolteacher explaining something to a stubbornly ignorant pupil now. "He wants you to be right so bad it hurts. He wants you to come back carrying those Elements and make his job obsolete, so he doesn't have to send soldiers out there to die any more. But at the same time, he's scared to death that he's doing the wrong thing, that you're not going to find anything and he'll have thrown away one of the best weapons we could ever possibly find against the changelings for no reason." He frowned. "He doesn't know whether or not he's made the right choice, but he's going to stick to the one he made until the end, because that's what he does. He can't just come in here and ask you to stay and fight after everything that's happened so far. So I'm here to do it for him."

This time, Spike couldn't think of anything to say in reply. He just stared at the captain without really seeing him. His gaze was elsewhere.

The changelings were massing over the Tangle, and Queen Chrysalis was angry. There was a very real and very immediate threat here. Even though he couldn't see it from within the infirmary, ponies were dying every hour to try and avert it, or at least to gather enough information to allow for an adequate defense. When things finally reached their boiling point, when Chrysalis' swarm reached critical mass, it would get even worse.

He could remember the feeling of fire, of having the strength to crush solid granite in his talons. He remembered the smell of burning chitin and the fine ash that resulted. He could remember the sheer, animal joy of hurting the ones he hated so much.

The acidic festering sensation in his wounds brought him out of those memories just long enough for him to look at the others. They were all watching him, waiting for his decision.

If he stayed here, he could blunt this attack. Maybe he could even defeat it completely. But it was just one attack. If he did find the Elements of Harmony, he could do so much more. He could drive Chrysalis away once and for all.

And if he continued his search, he could continue hoping that he would find Twilight Sparkle.

It's just you and me, Spike. You and me, forever.

Slowly, he shook his head.

"No," he rumbled, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry. I understand why you're asking, but even if I can help here, I have to at least try this. If I'm right, I can help so much more than by fighting on the front lines. And the sooner I find the Elements, the sooner we can beat the changelings for good."

Captain Long Road just nodded solemnly. "I thought you would say that," he answered. "But somepony had to at least ask. I hope you're right about this just as much as Rev does. I just don't know if it'll be worth it, in the end." He reached out and scooped up his cap, then stood up and rammed it onto his head.

"Like I said," he continued, as if the previous conversation hadn't occurred, "those mountains are full of magic. Stuff there doesn't work the way it should, and there are things there that are even more dangerous than changelings. Weird things. Spirits that can mess with your head, wild spells bouncing around and causing havoc, storms that never die out. It's not a safe place. I wish you all the luck in the world."

"Thank you," said Spike. There was an odd, leaden feeling in his stomach as he watched the captain smile at him.

"The next shipment of supplies arrives in eight hours," said Road. "Your travel equipment will be here then. I suggest you all get some sleep. You'll be wanting to leave early."

And he turned to trot out, closing the divider behind him.

When he had left, the other three turned to Spike. "We're still with you," said Tailspin quietly. Pith and Compass each nodded.

"I know," he murmured. He couldn't keep the worried frown off of his face. "I just hope we're making the right choice."

"We're doing the best we can," said the pegasus. "It's all anybody can ask for. And you're right. We can save even more ponies if we can find the Elements."

Spike nodded mutely, not looking at her. "We should get some sleep," he said after a moment. "We'll be leaving soon."

As he pulled the sheets over himself and tried to ignore the burning sensation from his wounds, he heard the words echoing around his head.

We can save even more...

But the only pony whose face he could see when he closed his eyes was Twilight Sparkle.

16: By A Route Obscure And Lonely

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Spike woke up that morning to find Pith Helmet already outside the infirmary, sorting through a collection of saddlebags. The stallion glanced up as he approached and offered a somewhat tired smile.

"Still no gems," he said, holding up one of the now-familiar cans of rations that the military personnel used. "But we've got enough regular food to last for a few weeks, assuming we don't mind eating light."

"I'll be fine," Spike answered. He was trying to ignore the growing feeling of gnawing hunger in his stomach. Pony food was all well and good, and he could probably survive off of it for quite some time, but a bit of turquoise or emerald wouldn't go amiss all the same. "What all do we have?"

The pain from his wounds had finally faded enough that he could walk on all fours, though he still suffered from lances of pain if he walked too quickly or moved his forelegs too far. He limped over to sit by Pith and examine the supplies.

"About the usual," the stallion said. He opened one of the saddlebags and began to sift through its contents. "Helmet lamps, obviously. Just a localized light spell, so we don't have to rely on oil. Blankets, bedrolls, rations, machetes, some rope, hammer and pitons, lanterns... It's not much, but it's best to only take the essentials anyway, or you'll wear yourself out lugging the equipment around."

Spike nodded. "I imagine I can carry a bit more than most ponies, though. Even you."

"Probably." Pith stood and slung one of the sets of saddlebags over his own back, then turned a serious expression towards the dragon. "That's why I want to ask you to carry Tailspin."

"I was planning on it." Spike laughed and shook his head. "I don't think she'd be able to walk the whole way."

Pith nodded, still looking grim. "Thank you. I just couldn't imagine leaving her behind right now."

"Neither could I," the dragon said truthfully. "She wants to come, she's your partner, and, honestly, I think she's probably one of the ponies we need for the Elements. I'd rather have her with us, even if we do have to take care of her."

The stallion gave him a quizzical look. "First it's me being one of two, or possibly both, of these Element things," he said. "Then it's Compass being Magic, and now Tailspin being... something. What makes you think all of this?"

Spike shrugged. "That's how it worked last time," he said. "Twilight and I moved into Ponyville, met the rest of our friends, and as it turned out, they were all the ones who could use the Elements. They all came together to face Nightmare Moon. I don't know if the Elements just choose ponies who all know one another, or if the ponies who get chosen just get drawn together, but it's as good a lead as we've got right now."

Pith exhaled slowly, then nodded. "If you say so," he muttered, as he flipped one of the helmets onto his head. "You're the expert here. We're just tagging along, really." Then he looked away and blinked. "Oh. Morning."

Spike turned to see Compass Rose approaching from the doorway behind him. The mare wasn't alone; Tailspin was walking along at her side. Or, perhaps more accurately, Tailspin was shuffling along as best she could while Compass supported her. The pegasus still looked shrunken and graying, but she did smile when Spike and Pith turned to see them.

"I thought you said you'd wake me up when it was time to go," she said, without any rancor in her voice. She was obviously just teasing Pith, but the stallion blanched anyway.

"I just wanted to get things set up so-"

"So I don't have to be out of bed so long, yes." Tailspin laughed. "Relax. I'm grateful. To all of you." She glanced at Compass, who shook her head.

"Don't mention it," the unicorn said quietly. "I want to do what I can to help."

Tailspin rolled her eyes and gave a mock-exasperated huff. "I swear, you ponies act like saying 'thank you' for helping me is an insult. I can't walk and I'd like to show my appreciation to the friends who are helping me out while I heal. Is that really so hard to wrap your heads around? I mean, I'm used to him being a bit thick-" she stuck her tongue out at Pith, who smiled sheepishly "-but I expected you to be more intelligent, Compass. Speaking of helping me, though..."

The two of them had finally made it through the doorway to stand next to Spike. Tailspin gave him a smile and said, "I heard you're the one who's going to be carrying me. Am I allowed to thank you for that, or would you prefer I started treating you like dirt?"

Spike laughed, then hunched down as low to the ground as he could. "All aboard," he said. "You can act as nasty as you want. I'm a big dragon. I can take it. Just try not to put too much pressure on the bandages, if you can. My back still aches."

"Right, so, extra insults but hold the wound-jabbing, got it."

It took them a moment to get the pegasus onto Spike's back and situated in such a way that she wouldn't fall off. It wasn't an entirely new situation to him. He had carried Rarity on his back quite often. Usually, after she had spent too long working on a large order and fallen asleep at her sewing machine, he would carry her up to bed rather than disturb her rest. A lot of his adopted nieces and nephews had also been quite fond of dragon-back rides. He knew how to walk at an even pace that wouldn't jostle his passengers.

What disturbed him about this specific instance was how light his passenger was. Tailspin was by no means a particularly large mare, but she barely weighed more than a filly. If it weren't for the slight motion of her shivering against him despite the warm air, or the faint sound of her breathing, he might have forgotten she was there.

He waited for Pith to drape a blanket over Tailspin, who gave a grateful nod in thanks, before standing. "Theeere we go," he said, forcing his voice to remain cheerful in spite of his worries. "Ready for travel, I think. You okay back there?"

"You're not exactly comfortable," came the muffled response, "but I'll manage." He heard her yawn quietly, then felt the slight pressure as she let her head fall to rest against his scales. "Ready whenever you are."

Pith was watching him, an odd expression on his face. Spike gave him a crooked smile, then lifted his wings slightly, forming a sort of cradle around the pegasus on his back. Don't worry. I've got her.

The stallion nodded, then turned to look at Compass, who was frowning at one of the pieces of equipment. It was a tiny rectangular object affixed to a string, obviously meant to be worn around the neck.

"Need help putting it on?"

Compass shook her head, then slipped the thing around her neck. "No," she said, not making eye contact. "I just... never needed a real compass before. It's not a pleasant sensation."

Pith grunted. It was more punctuation than answer, just a noise made to fill the space that no words seemed to fit in. He stepped forward and helped Compass to put on her own saddlebags. Spike noted that they were less than a third the size of the ones that Pith was wearing. The earth pony was attempting to carry almost every piece of equipment himself.

Spike stepped up beside him and peered down at the overfull bags, frowning. "You sure you're gonna be okay with those?" he asked, pointing.

Pith flipped one of the helmets onto Compass' head. The unicorn squeaked in surprise as it fell down over her eyes. "I'll be fine," he grunted, as he helped her to adjust it. "I've carried more than this." He gave Spike another odd look.

You just carry her.

Spike nodded. "If you say so," he said. "But if you need any help, just ask."

"He won't let you," came Tailspin's murmured voice. The pegasus sounded as though she was fighting to stay awake. "He never-" she yawned heavily, and Spike felt her shifting around against his scales "-never does. He's a real martyr, that one. Probably why I fell for him. Too nice for his own good, even if he is a bit thick-headed." The next few sentences were quite mumblings at the edge of hearing, but Spike could just make out "don't let him sneak you his share of the food" before the pegasus' breathing settled into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep.

Pith just stood there, looking embarrassed and squirming slightly, as both Compass and Spike chuckled quietly. The dragon gave him a knowing grin and nudged him in the ribs, which provoked a wince.

"Sorry," said Spike, turning away. "Forgot. But don't worry. Rarity used to call me 'Spikey-Wikey' every day. Even with company around."

"Now that gives rise to a series of odd mental images," said a voice. "I certainly know when to enter a conversation." Captain Road was approaching, attempting - and failing - to restrain his laughter.

Spike drew himself up as they approached, still grinning, and shrugged. "Just sharing some embarrassment, Captain," he said. "Come to see us off?"

Road nodded. "Just making sure you all get out of the fortress safe, at least," he said. "I'll get one of the gates open for you as soon as our navigator tells us which way you're planning on heading."

As one, the group turned to Compass Rose. Spike spun a little more slowly than the rest, trying to avoid jostling his passenger. The unicorn was frowning and adjusting her saddlebags.

"The northern gate, then," she said. "I'd show you the path I've picked out for us on a map, but it took a lot of effort to get them all packed, and doing it by hoof would just undo that." She grimaced and ducked her head. Spike noticed that she had pushed her helmet back far enough that it didn't actually rest on her shattered horn, but at the same time made sure that the wide brim still obscured most of it from view.

"North gate, then," said Road briskly. He turned to march off into the compound, motioning for them to follow. Compass walked off after him at a brisk pace, followed closely by Pith, and Spike brought up the rear. He had to walk more slowly than the rest due to his cargo, but his legs were longer anyway, so it evened out in the end.

"So what's the path you have planned?" Road was asking up ahead.

"We'll head northeast, into the foothills," Compass said. "It's clear territory, so we should only take about a day or so to reach the mountains."

"And then? Got any idea where you're actually going?"

The unicorn frowned. "Finding the destination isn't the hard part," she said. "Canterlot was built into the side of the highest mountain in the range, according to the maps Spike showed me before. The problem is that... well, it was built into the side of the highest mountain in the range. It's easy to see where we should go. It's just not easy to get there. Flying isn't really an option, because of the storms. That leaves foot paths, but... those are tricky."

"I didn't even know there were any foot paths in those mountains," said Road. He sounded more curious than anything.

"Like I said, tricky." Compass winced as her helmet bumped her broken horn and paused for a moment to readjust it. "Obviously there were paths leading up to the city while it still existed. But we don't know for certain where any of them are, or if they're still clear."

Spike laughed to himself at the memory of the others' expressions when he had mentioned possibly looking for the Friendship Express railway line. Unfortunately, he had never really paid much attention to the layout - at least, not enough to allow him to point it out on maps of the area after eight hundred years' worth of changes.

"So I'm having to employ a lot of guesswork," the cartographer went on. "But there's a series of segments of level ground that show up on some of our flyover maps of the mountains. They just might be what's left of an old pathway. It's not going to be easy finding them, assuming that they even exist - they only show up on about a third of the total maps, and those that they do turn up on argue over the exact locations - but hopefully Pith will be able to find a workable trail up to the top with those as a sort of, erm, jumping-off point."

"Not exactly the language I would have used," said Captain Road, a definite note of amusement entering his voice. "But I wish you all the best of luck regardless. And tell Tailspin, whenever she wakes up, that I'm glad she's on the mend."

As he finished speaking, they drew up to the outer wall of the fortress. Here, it was at least twenty feet high, and with heavy double gates set directly in front of their path. A pair of guards flanking them saluted as Captain Road approached, and he returned the gesture. "Colts," he said, his voice suddenly becoming sharp and professional. "Gates open. Colonel's party's taking their leave."

"Yes, sir," barked the guards in unison. They turned and began to push the gates open, giving Spike his first view of the world outside.

It was only just recognizable as Equestria, in the same way that the dead, cold thing that he had found all those years ago could be recognized as his wife. The body was still there. The gentle, rolling hills were still present, with high mountains visible against the horizon. But the spirit of it was gone.

The Equestria he had lived in had been green and bright. This place was dead. Even in the half-light from the perpetual evening overhead, he could see that most of the plant life had died away, killed by the frozen sky overhead. The only signs of plant life were the occasional stubby bushes that dotted the landscape, along with a few stunted trees.

Off in the distance, he could see massive, dark thunderheads gathered over the mountains. Other clouds moved, apparently at random, across the sky. There was none of the control that he remembered from the days of the weather teams in Ponyville. The clouds just moved on their own, as they used to over the Everfree Forest.

Equestria was gone. What was left was just bones.

Nopony else even blinked at the sight. Nopony even seemed to realize that he was just realizing that he hadn't just lost his friends, but the world they had shared together. Even he was having a hard time truly processing it.

The world seemed to spin around him, and he felt the bubbling, gangrenous sensation well up within his wounds again as his mind bounced back and forth, running through all the things he had lost. Ponyville. Rarity. Fluttershy. Granny Smith. Sugarcube Corner. Rainbow Dash. Sweetie Belle. Canterlot.

Something nudged him in the side. He blinked, suddenly brought out of his reverie, and looked down to see Compass Rose giving him a concerned look.

"Are you all right?" she muttered. A few feet away, Captain Road and Pith were exchanging a few last words.

Spike looked back out over the dimly-lit wasteland that had been his world, frowned, and shook his head. "No," he answered quietly. "But I'll be fine." He lifted one claw and set it against his ruby necklace, feeling the weight of it against his scales, and took a deep breath. "I just wasn't expecting everything to look this different."

She nodded. "I thought you might react this way," she said. "But... well. That's what you're trying to do, right? Fix all of this." She nodded towards the landscape outside the gates.

The dragon took a deep breath. "Yeah," he said. "I am. This place used to be beautiful. I'm hoping that, if we can find the Elements, it can be again."

"All the more reason to get going quickly, then," Captain Road cut in. Spike turned to see the rest of the assembled ponies staring at them. Pith was already outside the gate, looking at them over one shoulder and apparently waiting for them to follow.

Spike sighed, then nodded to the captain. "Right," he said. "Thank you for all the help, Captain." He paused. "And tell the colonel we'll do everything we can."

Road grinned. "Will do," he said, saluting. "Like I said, I wish you all the luck in the world. You'll probably need it."

"Probably," Spike agreed grimly. And then he set out after Pith, Compass trotting along at his side.


Spike still hadn't quite got the hang of reading the odd, star-patterned watches that were used to keep track of time now. Not that it mattered much; so far as he could tell, the time of day was largely arbitrary. The stars moved around in a regular cycle, yes, but the sun and moon didn't move, and the world never got any brighter or dimmer. Phrases like "night" and "day" only seemed to exist as a means of regulating activities rather than as a description of how the world worked.

Still, so far as he could tell, Compass Rose had been almost perfectly accurate when she said that it would take them a day to reach the mountains. They would have arrived sooner, but, while Pith and Spike both had energy to spare, Compass was not as used to exercise, and had to stop a few times to catch her breath. They hadn't been delayed too long, though, and now they were camped in the foothills about a mile or so away from the mountain range.

The foothills were high enough above the surrounding plains that Spike might have considered himself to hold a commanding view of the countryside, if it weren't for the fact that the only things to view were rocks and scrubland. Even the forts that they had passed on their way towards the mountains had vanished into the distance.

The Tangle was still visible, though. It dominated the horizon, a huge, dark, black mass that seemed to skulk against the landscape. The forts they had passed weren't small things, but they seemed insignificant in the face of the vines. He wondered how far back the settlements were from the front lines, and whether or not it would be far enough.

There was a rumble of thunder from behind him, and he turned. In the distance, the mountains were covered by a haze of rain, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the peaks. The range loomed over them, dizzyingly high. Somewhere in there was Canterlot.

Somewhere in there, he might find Twilight Sparkle.

There was another sound at the very edge of hearing. This one was much closer to him, but it could barely be made out over the distant hissing of the rain.

It was Tailspin. The pegasus was whimpering in her sleep as though she had been kicked, and her face was screwed up in a pained expression. She was clearly having a bad dream. For a moment, Spike considered waking her, but he decided against it. Pith had draped one of his legs over her body as he fell asleep beside her, and as she twitched in her sleep, he pulled her closer. The contact seemed to put an end to her troubles for the moment, and she fell silent again.

The sight reminded him of his nights together with Rarity. Their bed in the Carousel Boutique had been large and soft, and every night, whenever one of them woke up, they would find the other holding them close.

He looked away. Carousel Boutique was a long way away, and Rarity was even further. He wasn't in their bed, but lying on bare, rocky ground, without sheets or anything resembling a pillow. He had given up his bedroll and blanket to try and make Tailspin more comfortable. He didn't particularly enjoy lying directly on the ground, but his scales weren't the most sensitive of things, and the fire in his belly would keep him warm no matter how cold it became.

He sighed, lowered his head to the ground, and shut his eyes, trying to go to sleep. Despite his best efforts, though, his mind refused to stop dwelling on Rarity, and when he did eventually drift off, it was a fitful, uneasy slumber, interrupted every few hours by a surge of bubbling pain from his wounds.


Tailspin was dreaming.

She knew it was a dream, because it was the same dream she had been having every night since the castle, but that didn't make it any better. She was still powerless to do anything about it. She couldn't even force herself to wake up, no matter how hard she tried.

She couldn't even move. Her eyes were closed, and she was powerless to open them. Her limbs may as well have not been there for all the control that she had. All she could do was lie still and feel the sickening sensation of the ooze moving in and out of her lungs.

It was thick and tarry, and clogged her throat as she tried to breathe. Every heave of her chest was an effort, but every time she forced the stuff back into her lungs, she felt a rush of oxygen. Disgusting as it was, it kept her alive.

She wished that it didn't.

As bad as the ooze was, the other sensation was worse. The ooze was a purely physical thing. The other was a sense of violation so complete that she wished that her heart would give out just so that she wouldn't have to endure it any longer.

Something was reaching inside and tearing out pieces of her, one mote at a time. She could feel every scrap of her that was being taken away, and knew that they would never be coming back. She was diminishing, bit by bit, and every second of it was agony beyond anything she had any capacity to describe.

And, as if the loss of herself was not enough, in its place, the thing that was reaching into her left behind a gaping, yawning chasm in the center of her mind. It grew and grew as she lost more of herself, taking away Tailspin and leaving behind... something else.

She opened her eyes.

There was the sound of thunder and rain, off in the distance. There was a steady, even rumbling that let her know Spike was asleep, not far away. But, more than anything, there was Pith, lying with his leg draped over her protectively and his muzzle pressed against the top of her head.

She was so hungry.

17: Bottomless Vales And Boundless Floods

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The sound of shuffling hoofsteps brought Spike out of his sleep. It took him a while to make his eyes obey the commands coming from his brain, but eventually they opened, and he blinked rapidly to bring the world into focus.

Compass and Pith were both still asleep. The pony walking, to his surprise, was Tailspin. She was limping her way across the rocky ground, shivering uncontrollably, and making her way towards Spike.

The dragon lifted himself up and gave her a concerned look. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

She shook her head, took another shaky step, and let herself collapse against his side. "Bad dreams," she murmured. "Needed to move around a bit. Didn't mean to wake you."

She curled in on herself, quivering, and Spike frowned. He opened one wing and draped it over her as a makeshift blanket. "Are you that cold?"

"Yes." Again, the dragon was struck by how small she seemed. The weight of her body against his scales was so light that he could barely feel it. "I have been ever since I woke up."

"Then why did you leave him?" Spike glanced back over to the sleeping form of Pith. "And the blankets?"

There was silence for a few seconds. For a moment, Spike wondered if the pegasus had already passed out again. Just as he started to lift his wing to check, though, he heard her say, "Because there's something wrong with me."

He blinked. "Something wrong?"

"He knows," she whispered quietly. When he moved his wing aside to peer in at her, she had her own wing draped over her face. "Pith. I told him about it when it started to get really bad. He still wants to stay with me, because he's an idiot. But you can't tell Compass. She'd blame herself."

"Tell Compass what?"

Tailspin shivered again. "The cocoon," she said, her voice growing quieter. "It... took something. Something I need." Again, she stopped, and again it lasted long enough that Spike was worried that she had passed out. Then she said, "I'm like the changelings now."

He drew his head back sharply. It wasn't a conscious act on his part, and he regretted it almost immediately, even though she hadn't seen it. He forced his voice to remain level and said, "You've been feeding on him."

"No." The answer was sharp, and surprisingly loud. Tailspin's voice was still weak, so even that outburst only raised it to the level of normal conversation for anypony else, but even that was enough to make Spike blink in surprise. She lowered her wing away from her face and glared at him. "Never," she said. She spat the word. "He told me I could if I needed to. He begged me to. But I haven't, and I won't."

Slowly, the glare faded, and she brought her wing back up over her face. "I won't," she mumbled. "I couldn't hurt him like that."

Realization dawned. "That's why you're still so weak," Spike whispered. "You're starving to death."

The only answer was another quiver against his scales.

"Tailspin," he hissed. "You have to eat. You can't just let yourself starve." The initial shock was passing. In its wake, he felt a rising sense of urgency, tinged with panic. "Pith's strong, and he's willing to let you. You could even use me, if you're afraid he can't take it. You can't just..."

"I can." The pegasus' voice was very small now, and very tired. "I don't know how to control it. All I know is that, if I wanted to, I could reach out and start taking. I don't know if I could stop, even assuming I'd still have enough willpower to make that choice. And even if you and Pith were both willing, all that means is that I'd eat you up a bit at a time, and then I'd end up starving anyway once... once you were gone." She let out a soft sigh. "I can't do that to you. I starve now, or I starve later, but the latter comes with me having to live with hurting my friends. I'd rather go out with a clear conscience."

There didn't seem to be any answer that could be made to that. Spike just watched her for a while. She still looked unnaturally gaunt, and her coat was still graying, but she did look better than she had before Compass had come up with the healing spell. Perhaps she still had some time.

As if to confirm that she was thinking the same thing, Tailspin said, "Compass bought me a few days with all of you that I wouldn't have had otherwise. I'm grateful to her for that. I just don't want her to have to live with knowing I felt like this even after her healing spell. She'd blame herself for it, and it's not her fault. Even if it was, I'd still be grateful." She sighed. "And I might even be able to do something useful before I go, if we can find these Elements. I can't really ask for anything else."

Spike blinked. "The Elements," he said, more to himself than anything.

"What?"

"The Elements," he repeated, looking back down to her. A broad grin spread across his features. "If anything can heal you, they can. If we can find them, then-"

He stopped. Tailspin was laughing quietly.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she muttered. "Just... these things sound like the most hilariously versatile weapons in the history of ever. Not only can they beat Queen Chrysalis and the Mare in the Moon, they can heal ponies who are dying of spiritual starvation."

Spike huffed. "Okay, yes, maybe it sounds a bit far-fetched," he admitted. "But it's true. The Elements of Harmony could do almost anything when they were brought together. If anything can help you, it's them."

"Right." Tailspin just curled in a little tighter on herself, then sighed. "I hate to ask this," she said, "but could you help me back over to him? I think I'm ready to try and sleep again."

Spike nodded. A few moments later, he was pulling the blankets up over Pith and Tailspin. The pegasus made a series of quiet noises that might have been her attempting to thank him, but she was obviously falling back into unconsciousness. Pith hadn't even turned over as she rejoined him, but once she was lying against him again, one of his legs came up to pull her closer.

He left them like that and went back to his place a few yards away. Off in the distance, he could see the storm chasing itself between the peaks of the mountain range. He lay still for a while, staring up into the clouds, trying to quash the thoughts echoing around his head long enough to go back to sleep.

Rainbow Dash had looked like that, in the end; sunken, graying, skeletal. How many times had he seen her lying next to Soarin, unable to even summon the strength to stand? It hadn't seemed right that her life would end that way, after all the years she had spent as one of the most celebrated athletes and trainers in Equestrian history. Now, no matter what memories he tried to summon of her in her younger days, he could only see the gray-coated old mare who hadn't even been able to fully return his last embrace.

Somewhere up in the mountains was Canterlot. Somewhere up there was a chance to keep it from happening again.

He shut his eyes, snorted, and tried to force himself into sleep.


Even though Pith was carrying the vast majority of the equipment, Compass still found herself growing tired far more quickly than she had hoped.

Ever since they had entered the mountains and the storm had begun, it seemed that her world had steadily shrunk until it consisted only of the uneven, rocky ground beneath her hooves and the icy rain that poured over her. They had been supplied with thick cloaks that kept off the worst of the weather, but it was still damp and miserable, her hooves still ached, and she kept coming dangerously close to losing her footing on the slick rocks.

Pith had insisted that each of them was tied to the rest using some of the rope that they had been supplied with, which made sense - in the darkness and rain, it would be easy to go over the edge of one of the twisting paths. It was still uncomfortable, though, and it provided her with a constant reminder that she was going too slowly. The rope ahead of her, the part that was connected to Pith, was always taut and tugging her along, while the segment leading back towards Spike was always slack.

They were about four hours into the mountains now, and it had been raining continuously for that entire time. She had been able to locate the beginning of what might have been the path that she had seen on the maps, and now all she could do was follow Pith until he asked for more information.

They were making their way along a rocky path between two high cliffs. Behind them, if she looked over her shoulder and squinted through the rain past Spike's bulk, Compass could just make out the Tangle. Up ahead, there was nothing but more mountains and more rain.


Her hooves ached, she could barely see through the mist of rain rebounding off of the stone, she had a stitch in her side that felt as if she was being stabbed, her helmet kept bumping against her shattered horn and sending bolts of pain through her skull, and she felt as though she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week.

It came as something of a surprise when she realized that she couldn't think of anywhere else that she would rather be.

Just over a week ago, she had been one cartographer among many. She had been responsible for collating and cross-referencing the dozens of scouting reports that came in from their reconnaissance parties every day. She had been good at it, and she had been reasonably happy. It was a job, and a serious one, but it wasn't particularly difficult, and she had always found maps interesting. If she had been able to live in one of the settlements, rather than traveling from fort to fort as her services were needed, it would have been the perfect life.

She hadn't gone along on the journey into the Tangle out of any sort of desire for adventure. She simply recognized that it was an important mission and that the information gathered would have to be as accurate as possible, in case the castle contained anything valuable. As a result, she had been through the most physically and emotionally grueling experiences of her life. She had been poisoned by changelings, imprisoned, and crippled.

And now she was heading off into another place that could be just as dangerous. She was cold, tired, wet, hungry, sore, frightened, and entirely out of her depth.

No, she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy at all. But there was something about the situation, nonetheless, that made the thought of turning back impossible. It took her a long time to come up with a word for it.

Purpose.

Compass Rose had always had a job. Now, she had something more. She had ponies that needed her, even crippled as she was, and the chance to do something that truly mattered. It wasn't a happy feeling, exactly. In fact, she was utterly, absolutely miserable in every way that she usually thought about being happy. But, as she fought her way up the next rise, stumbling slightly and nearly falling full-length onto the rocks, she found herself smiling a grim little smile regardless.

No, it wasn't exactly a happy feeling. But, as she straightened up and motioned for Pith to continue, she realized that she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.


Something crunched under one of Pith's hooves. He stopped and squinted at it through the mist on the rocks. It glittered in the light from his helmet lamp like broken glass.

Ice. Melting ice, ice that shouldn't have been there in such warm weather, but ice all the same. That made three times now.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. Compass Rose had drawn to a halt about a foot away, and blinked as his light fell across her face. Behind her was the looming bulk of Spike. The dragon had both wings partially outstretched for balance.

"Let's get out of the rain for a minute," Pith called, over the dull rumbling of thunder. He lifted a hoof and pointed towards a slight overhang in a nearby cliff, then turned to lead the way into it. It wasn't much of a shelter, but it kept the worst of the rain off. He sat down and removed his helmet with a deep sigh, then turned to the others.

Compass Rose had already dropped onto her haunches and was massaging one hoof gingerly. She was obviously exhausted, but her expression was set, and he knew that she was determined to keep going regardless. Spike, on the other hoof, looked soaked but otherwise fine, despite his wounds. He was stretched out full-length on the floor, with Tailspin resting on his back. The pegasus had been lashed there, swaddled in as many cloaks and blankets as they could pile on without restricting Spike's ability to walk.

To his surprise, she was actually awake, and offered him a faint smile as he looked over to her. "Hey," she said quietly. "What'd we stop for?"

"A couple of things," Pith said. He removed his helmet and shook out his mane, frowning. "One, rope check. We're getting higher up now, and I want to make sure we aren't going to lose anypony if they slip. Two, map check. I want to make sure we're going the right way, or at least that we're as confident about it as we can be." He looked back to Tailspin. He didn't have to say it aloud for her to know that the third item on his list was checking on her.

"Y'know," she said lightly, as if speaking to the air in general rather than to assuage his worries, "this is actually a surprisingly comfortable way to travel. I'm going to get cramps from the ropes, but at least these things are pretty much waterproof. And scaly here might not be particularly comfortable, but he's at least warm."

Spike snorted in answer, grinning crookedly. "I'll have you know that my dragon-back rides were considered incredibly comfortable by the foals in Ponyville. They used to fall asleep on me."

"They didn't know any better."

"I also used to carry Rarity around."

"Yes, well, she had other reasons for wanting you to be in a good mood," answered the pegasus, a note of teasing entering her voice. "Face it, Spike. You just aren't a very good mattress."

Pith sighed heavily. Normally, he would have smiled to see Tailspin in what seemed like such a good mood, but he knew that it was a show for his sake. She was trying to keep him from dwelling on what she had told him. It wasn't working.

"There's something else," he said.

Compass looked up from the map that she was spreading out on the driest patch of rock she could find, frowning. "What else?"

"Ice." Pith stamped a hoof on the damp ground. "I've seen it three times since we started hiking. I thought it was just a bit that'd come down from the top of the mountain, you know. Maybe a bit of snow came off. The rain is chilly, but it's too warm here for ice to have just formed on its own. But the last patch I stepped on was very clearly frozen rainwater. It was formed into a crack in the stone."

"So?" Spike had his head tilted slightly to one side, looking confused. "What's it mean?"

Pith frowned. "All the scouting reports we have of here talk about spells that sort of bounce around the mountains," he said. "Old ones that got cast a long time ago and just haven't gone away. I'm guessing that the ice means we're coming up on the areas where they start showing up, and one of them's a cold spell."

"Good thing I've got my own personal heater," mumbled Tailspin.

"Right." He nodded. "But that's not what I'm worried about, really. Cold is survivable. What I want to be sure everypony knows is that, the second you notice anything weird, no matter how small, you say so. It might save all of our lives."

"Well, I've got some good news, anyway," said Compass Rose, looking up from her map again. "So far as I can tell, we are actually on some sort of path right now. Or something that used to be a path, anyway. And the current heading we're on does lead us towards the most likely location for Canterlot. So long as we keep heading in the same direction, and keep going upwards, we should find it soon enough."

"Good." Pith flipped his helmet back onto his head and drew his cloak more closely around him. "Everypony up, then. We'll try and get a few more hours in before we make camp. Hold still so I can check your ropes."

A few minutes later, they were moving again, heads bowed against the rain.

Overhead, too high to be seen through the rain, a herd of spectral horses with malevolent, shining eyes watched them go.

18: The Blizzard

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Before her horn had been shattered, Compass Rose had been able to reach out and sense any magic around her if she wanted to. Now that it was broken, she could still sense it, albeit dimly - and without any of the control that she had possessed before. Any magic in the vicinity blared across her senses like someone was screaming in her ear.

Spike's necklace was a constant, low grating sensation, while the localized light spells on their helmets were tiny pinpricks against her mind. Neither of them were pleasant to have nearby - every time she got too close to Spike, she felt as though somepony were breaking her horn all over again, and even the tiny light spells were like a stubborn toothache in the back of her brain - but they could be dealt with, given some effort.

Now, though, as they headed further into the mountains, there was an all-pervading feeling of pressure inside her head. It put her in mind of the feeling she got before a headache became a full-fledged migraine, and made it exceedingly difficult to concentrate.

Unfortunately, concentration was important, given their current situation. The captain had been right; there were wild spells in the mountains, and beyond those, there was a lot of raw magic trapped in the crags. It lay over the world around them so thickly that it was almost visible. In a way, it actually was.

The four of them were making their way up a path carved into the side of one of the mountains. On the right, there was a near-vertical rock face. To the left, there was nothing but dizzying heights and distant rocks as far as they could see. Other mountains loomed up out of the rain, but the storm wasn't what made it so difficult to turn her gaze in that direction. It wasn't even the heights. While Compass wasn't a pegasus, she had never really been all that intimidated by altitude.

No, the reason that the four of them were attempting to keep their gazes glued firmly to the path rather than the yawning chasm to the side was that the magic that filled the valley below sucked at their eyes like a hole in space. The sensation was sickeningly similar to vertigo, and the world seemed to lurch under Compass' feet every time she let her head turn too far to the left. The mountains in the distance were, at one and the same time, both too far and too close, as the raw magic swirling between them played with their perception of space.

She had tried looking up, once. That was worse. Knowing that the inverted mountain range hanging over their heads couldn't possibly be real didn't make it any less disorienting.

Most of the spells that filled the mountain range had long since lost whatever their original forms had been. The original purposes behind their power had dissipated, leaving nothing but the raw, reality-warping energies behind. Without anypony to give it an intent, the cloud of wild magical power simply sat there, making things confusing and interacting with reality in odd ways.

Part of Compass was surprised to find that she was fascinated at the prospect of what somepony could do with all of it, if they were able to reach out and grasp it all. Of course, it would take a titanic amount of control and raw magical talent, far beyond the capabilities of any unicorn, but still, it was a truly interesting idea, in theory.

The rest of her was more preoccupied with the cold.

Most of the spells had long since lost their original forms, but whatever was summoning the ice was very obviously still functioning. The temperature was dropping precipitously, and more than once, Compass had found herself being buffeted by flurries of snow rather than torrential rain. The higher up they went, the colder it got, the less rain there was, and the more ice appeared on the rocky path.

That was odd, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was missing something important. There were a few thoughts bobbling around in her head regarding magical decay rates and composition theory, but they were only vague outlines. She felt as though she were back in the infirmary at Fort McHoofry, staring at the copied pages from Twilight Sparkle's old spellbook: exhausted, but oddly energized at the same time, as if the confusion in her head was bringing with it some sort of clarity.

She couldn't really concentrate on those thoughts to try and make sense of them, though. There were too many other things that demanded her attention. First and foremost was the fact that the ice-slick path was getting so difficult to navigate that she felt as though her hooves would skitter out from under her at any moment. Then there was the fact that Pith kept calling for direction checks every few minutes as he tried to stay on the path despite the building snow.

The temperature was dropping precipitously now, to the point that Compass was beginning to consider calling for another break to put on some boots. Before she could say anything, though, Pith had come to a halt again.

"Compass," he said sharply. "Which way?"

The mountain that they had been making their way long had met with a few others in the chain, and the path branched off in several directions. Compass sighed heavily and took a few steps forward to peer at them.

"We just need to keep going upward," she said. "Generally speaking, I mean. This place should be on the highest mountain in the..." She stopped, blinked, blinked again, squinted, raised a hoof to cover one eye, switched it to the other eye, screwed up her face in concentration, then groaned.

"Oh. Oh, that's painful."

"Tell me about it," Pith answered flatly. "Hurts my eyes just looking at it."

Ahead of them, each of the paths seemed to head off in a different direction. At first glance, each seemed distinct, but the haze of magic lay over them so thickly that Compass found her eyes crossing as she tried to follow each one. One of the paths started out tracing the side of a mountain and, somehow, ended up emerging from a cave mouth without ever entering one. Even without setting foot on either one of them, the unicorn could feel her horn burning from the feedback.

"Y'know," Spike said, drawing up behind her, "this is actually a good sign, I think. Canterlot was where Princesses Celestia and Luna lived. They taught unicorns how to cast spells there. And there was a library full of magical books. If it's been left unattended for so long... Well, we might be headed in the right direction. I think."

Great, thought Compass. More magic. More headaches.

"Give me a minute," she said. "I think I can... figure something... out..." She trailed off, squinting at the twisting paths, trying to will them into coherency.

A sudden gust of wind whipped her cloak around her and buried her hooves in a flurry of snowflakes. She shivered, but focused her mind on the task at hand. They needed a path. She was the pathfinder. Pith would get them through the wilderness in one piece, but in this situation, you needed a certain kind of mind.

It wasn't just her experience with maps that was important here, though that was the meat of it. She had a mind for pathways and passages. The magic made taking each path as a whole impossible. That was okay. Take each one in parts. It actually helped if she closed her eyes after glancing quickly at one segment, assembling each pathway in her head like a puzzle being put together one piece at a time.

But that was only half of it. Space was distorted here. It couldn't possibly remain unaffected in the presence of so much raw magic. Even if she could only dimly sense the coils of power, like smoke in a dark room, she could make out enough to know that the paths didn't always lead to where they should. She had to adjust her mental image accordingly, nudging little lines into place in her head, picking the thing apart one snippet of sensation at a time.

Pith Helmet watched her for a minute, looking nonplussed, then cocked his head and looked at Spike, who shrugged.

"Don't ask me," he said. "It's a unicorn thing, I think. Twilight used to do this a lot." He paused. "Complete with the squinting and muttering and forgetting anything else exists. Just let her work."

He dropped into a sitting position and glanced over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the bundle of cloth that held Tailspin. "You okay back there?"

The answer, when it came, sounded as though it was forced between chattering teeth. "Cold."

Spike sighed. "Yeah," he said. "It's getting pretty cold up here. We should be getting close to Canterlot, though, and I can make a fire when we find it. In the meantime..."

He concentrated for a moment, focusing on the feeling of fire in his gut. After a moment, he felt it swelling, and there was a quiet sigh from Tailspin in answer. He grinned, and Pith offered a nod in thanks.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and another flurry of snowflakes whipped past them. The wind hissed loudly around the jutting stones.

"A blizzard in a thunderstorm," the dragon said, lifting his head up to look at the clouds overhead. "Heh. Only when there's this much magic around, I guess. Rainbow would have been shouting herself hoarse if the weather team back home messed up this bad."

Pith raised his head as well, squinting up through the mingled rain and sleet. "Yeah," he grunted. "It's getting cold fast, too. Rain's going to freeze over, make the path slick. We'll need to-"

He stopped, blinking furiously, trying to clear his vision. Spike caught sight of his expression.

"What is it?"

"Something's up there." Pith raised a hoof and pointed into the swirling mass of grey overhead. "Flying."

"Flying?" Spike's head snapped upward, his expression suddenly wary. "That's crazy. Flying in a thunderstorm is dangerous enough. Even Rainbow Dash would've thought twice about that. And when it's a blizzard, too..."

He stopped. He had seen it as well: a series of shapes darting behind a cloud bank. They could have been mistaken for pegasi, if pegasi were known for being as big as he was and lacking visible wings.

A few buried memories clutched at his hindbrain, and he suddenly felt the chill much more strongly than before. "Oh, no," he groaned. "Tell me I didn't just see those."

"You know what they are?" Pith didn't stop scanning the clouds as he asked.

"Maybe," said Spike slowly. "Long story short, if I'm right, evil ice spirits, and it's about to get even colder. I don't know why they're here, but they're dangerous."

Now Pith did look back down. He turned back to the path that they had taken up the mountain. His helmet lamp glittered on rain-slick precipices and thickening ice.

"Right," he said sharply. "Spike. Canterlot. Shelter?"

The dragon blinked. "If it's still standing, yeah. It was one of the most heavily-fort-"

The stallion's voice cut across his. "Good enough. Compass!" He was barking out the words now, as if he had suddenly become the colonel. "We need a path!"

Compass' eyes snapped open, and she swung around to face the earth pony. "I'm sorry, what-"

"We've got trouble," said Pith flatly. He lifted one hoof and pointed up to the clouds, which were beginning to pile up over the mountains, swirling around them as if a tornado were about to form. The rising winds drove the rain against them so fast that it was almost moving horizontally. "Path. Now."

"I haven't figured out which it is yet," Compass protested, taking a step back. "If I choose wrong, we'll be-"

"Spike!" Pith was still watching the unicorn and still standing there with one hoof pointed skyward. "Are they lethal?"

The dragon pushed himself upright again, already stoking his inner furnace as high as he could without threatening the pegasus on his back. "Very," he said. "Windigos freeze their prey solid. And the only way I know how to fight them is with magic."

"Which we don't have," Pith said, ignoring Compass' involuntary flinch. "So we're running. Find the path, fast."

"Um," said a tiny voice, just barely audible over the whistling winds, "I think they know the game's up."

Spike's head swung upward again. Overhead, the thunderclouds had piled together, forming an amorphous mass of vapor filled with flashes of lightning. It spun on its axis as he watched, faster and faster, as if the clouds were being whipped into a frenzy. He could feel the temperature dropping like a stone, see the ice forming on the stones around them, watch the rain being turned first to sleet and then to hail.

And, neighing loudly, a herd of spectral horses with shining, ghostly eyes was galloping down towards them, charging down the slope of the clouds.

"Time's up!" Pith shouted. Even he was just loud enough to make himself heard over the gale now. "Best guess!"

"Right!" Compass sounded near panic. "Go right! I'll figure out the rest while-"

"Just go!"

Spike felt the rope around his middle go taut as the two ponies dashed towards the right-hand path. It was an effort to drag his gaze away from the windigos bearing down on them, but he managed it, and set off after the other two at a dead run.

Here, he had a bit of advantage. Pith and Compass were moving as quickly as they could, but they lacked his claws. They couldn't grip the stone beneath them. They had to pick their way over the rising ice; one hoof out of place could send them sprawling, or, worse, slipping into the abyss. The ropes around them were meant to protect them from that, but it was the sort of safety measure that he didn't want to have to test.

He felt stone splinter under his hands and feet as he barreled after them. His claws would anchor him to the mountain no matter how much ice the windigos summoned. They kept him anchored against the wind, which was so powerful now that it drowned out almost all other sound, and felt like a wall of icy knives attempting to throw him off-balance. Snow and sleet lashed at his face, obscuring his vision. He tucked his head in, squinted as best he could, and forced himself to speed up.

His wounds were burning again, and the pain grew worse with every motion. The pain and fear reached into his mind, and he could feel the dragon rising up in response. The fire in him wanted to grow stronger. His skeleton wanted to grow and stretch. He wanted to roar his defiance to the windigos and turn to swat them from the sky.

But that response would only hurt him now. Lightning crackled overhead; taking wing would only make things more dangerous, even if he could manage to fly in the hurricane that was building around them. And he still had Tailspin lashed to his back. He couldn't risk losing her. For her sake, he fought to keep his reflexive growth under control.

With a roar of defiance, he gripped the mountain in his claws and heaved himself forward once again.

Pith and Compass were just barely visible ahead of him. Or above him, or possibly behind. Even he could feel the raw magic of the mountains seeping into everything now, twisting the mountain under their feet. Somehow, he was at one and the same time navigating a narrow ledge over a bottomless drop and fighting his way through a rising snowdrift. He tried to block it out. All he knew was that Pith and Compass were his beacon, and he fought his way towards them as best he could.

Then the windigos arrived, and the world was reduced to howling whiteness on all sides.

Cold, worse than anything he had ever felt before, pressed in on him from every direction. It was so powerful that it felt as though his entire body was being squeezed in a vice. He could just make out the sound of Tailspin screaming on his back, and feel her squirming in the ropes that held her there. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, could barely move his limbs.

He was still as strong as ever. The windigos hadn't robbed him of his strength. They had simply buried his legs in solid ice, ice too cold for even the mounting heat of his body to melt. He could see them circling him now, a thunderous stampede of spectral shapes that whinnied and snorted so loudly that they almost drowned out the lightning and the wind.

Spike let out another roar, a sound of pure animal desperation, and felt the ice around his legs shatter as he forced himself to move again. Shards of glittering ice, shining like broken glass, cascaded through the air. A moment later, they were caught up in the gale and hurled back into his face. He roared again, then turned it into a spear of flame that stabbed through the air and engulfed the nearest windigo in a jade-colored inferno. It screamed and fell, disappearing from sight in the distorted space.

He couldn't see or hear the others, but the rope was still around him, still taut. He lunged forward, following its pull. The windigos moved, as one, to intercept him. He felt the ice building up again, snarled, and swung one clawed hand. He couldn't be sure whether or not the windigos were purely material creatures, but he felt contact with something, and suddenly the path was clear of monsters.

He shot forward like a bullet, not running but leaping, grabbing the cliff face in his claws with each bound just long enough to launch himself upward again. For a few sickening moments, he thought he could see the world hanging overhead, as if he were hanging upside-down from a stone arch and fighting his way upward rather than over. He shook the vision from his sight, focused on the rope again, and kept moving.

Pith and Compass were ahead of him, standing at the edge of a cliff. The windigos were there, too, swarming in from all sides. He could see the ice rising around them, creeping closer to the two ponies, threatening to engulf them. He bellowed and redoubled his speed-

-only to see Compass rose fall from the cliff before he could reach her.

For a moment, his mind went blank, not really processing what had just happened. Then he saw the rope around Pith's waist go taut, heard the stallion scream, watched him try desperately to find his balance against the slick stone, and go over as well.

The windigos were forgotten now. Spike had one goal in mind. The rope around his own body snapped to full tightness for a moment, then simply snapped; their last lifeline was gone. He gathered his muscles under him and thundered forward like a locomotive, snapping ice and rock under his claws with every stride.

His wings spread slowly, fighting and straining against the winds and the ice for every inch. He could feel the frost building on them, knew there were ligaments tearing. He ignored it, forced them open wider, then reached the cliff and leapt.

Behind him, the windigos screamed, and he could hear them wheeling about to give chase again. He ignored that as well. Below him, he could see a pair of flailing bodies. His wings were being thrown this way and that by the storm. He clenched them tight, forced them to remain level, pulled them in slightly. He wasn't falling, he was swooping, going for speed.

Catch first, figure out how you're going to brake later. It wasn't an entirely rational thought, but it was all he could manage.

Space was twisting around him again. Even at the dizzying speed that he had gained, he could tell that more and more magic was building up. Spires of rock kept appearing directly in his path without any way for them to have possibly gotten there. He flicked a wing tip, spun, kept going. He couldn't flap to accelerate further. Even in his desperation, he was coherent enough to realize that the forces involved would have ripped his wings in half.

Pith was just ahead of him now, looking as if he couldn't choose whether to be terrified by the fall or astonished by Spike's sudden arrival. The dragon didn't offer any explanation. He just reached out and snaked an arm around the stallion's barrel. Despite himself, he could feel his bones creaking and growing again, and he knew that Tailspin had to be fighting for breath against the pressure of the rope. But he couldn't concentrate on regulating his size and managing his flight at the same time. He drew Pith in and clutched the stallion against the scales of his chest, then set his eyes on Compass Rose.

The unicorn was in a sort of controlled fall, or one as controlled as possible as it could be given the howling winds around them. She had all four legs spread out, obviously attempting to slow herself, but she wasn't looking at Spike. She was looking down, and had that same odd look of concentration on her face that she had worn when trying to figure out which path was the correct one.

Another stone loomed out of the mountainside, and again Spike flicked a wing to roll out of the way. He was gaining on her now. His claws were approaching her hind legs. He managed to get a grip around her left one and began to tug her in towards him.

She twisted her head around to look at him. She was trying to shout something to him over the storm, but it was lost in the thunder. She tried again, and the wind snatched her words away before they reached him.

He pressed her to his chest, ignoring her protests and squirming. His eyes were still forward, towards the rapidly-approaching valley floor below. He had them. Now he had to stop without killing them all with the force of impact.

Compass was shouting louder now. He spared her a glance, and saw that she was pointing desperately ahead of him. He could just make out the words "Do you see?" over the wind, though they were hoarse and cracked from the strain she was putting on her voice.

He looked forward again and squinted. Then he felt space twist around him again.

The valley floor was gone. They weren't falling now, but gliding through the storm, soaring over a plateau that jutted from one side of a mountain below. He could see ruined buildings, covered in ice and snow, beneath them.

Canterlot.

Compass had found the path. They had made it. He strained his vision, trying to make out details, but the city seemed off somehow, with shadows where there shouldn't have been shadows.

Then he felt his wings seize up, and there was a cacophony of screaming neighs from behind him. The windigos had caught up, and now his wings, already stretched to the limit to keep them airborne in the hurricane, were suddenly frozen over. He felt his stomach lurch as gravity came back to claim its own, forcing him into a plummet.

This time, he really was falling. The city streets below were rocketing up towards them. Ahead, the hulking black shape that could only be Canterlot Castle was getting closer by the second. In the sudden panic that filled his mind, the idea that he was finally coming home seemed somehow funny, and he felt a strangled laugh rising in his throat.

He forced it down. They weren't dead yet. He couldn't let the others die like this. They were his friends, and they had come to help him. He would not repay them with failure.

Slowly, with even more effort that it had taken to open them initially, Spike spread his wings.

Ice shivered, fighting to contain his bulk, then splintered with a series of rapid-fire cracking noises. Now he could feel the wind tearing at his wings. It was strong, too strong to fight; at this speed, and in these winds, he simply didn't have the ability to stop himself.

He tried anyway. He roared involuntarily with the effort as he curled his legs under him, trying to force his wings into a vertical position. It was slow, too slow, and the castle was approaching far too fast, but he managed it. Immediately, he felt the air slam into his outstretched wing-flaps. Some of them tore immediately, and lightning bolts of agony shot through him.

But he didn't stop. With all his strength, he drew his wings back, then flapped, once, harder than he had ever done in his life. It was all he could manage.

It wasn't enough. Even as the sound of it pealed through the city, echoing off the buildings a dozen times over, leaving him deafened in a way that even the storm hadn't managed to do, even as he felt his strength tear the air in half, not flying but beating it into submission, even as he felt more of his outstretched wings tear under the incredible pressure, he knew it couldn't possibly be enough. He clutched Pith and Compass to his chest, curled in around them as best he could, and braced himself for impact.

The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was the crushing impact of Castle Canterlot's front gates against his scales.

19: An Eidolon Named Night

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In the darkness, Tailspin struggled.

Spike wasn't moving. She hadn't been able to see much of what had happened, so his exact condition was a mystery, but she knew that it couldn't be good. The cloak and blankets that the others had wrapped her in had obscured most of her vision. But she could hear everything, and what little she could see had been more than enough.

Now, she was lying in blackness, trying to fight off the waves of exhaustion that were battering away at her resolve. Her body wanted to sleep, and she knew that, this time, she wouldn't wake up. The cold and the pressure had ripped away what little strength Compass Rose's spell had bought her. She was done, completely and utterly.

But she had a few moments left, and she was needed. So she gasped and squirmed, trying to worm her rear legs free of the crushing pressure of the ropes.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the night. It wasn't entirely dark here. The walls of the building they had crashed into were sturdy, but Spike was a dragon, and he had momentum on his side. The massive double doors hadn't stood a chance. There was a gaping hole in them now, and that let in some dim light from outside. It was murky and weak, barely enough to enable her to see the barest outlines of her surroundings, but it was there.

Her vision seemed to be reducing itself to tiny pinpoints. Everything else was a swirl of blackness. Even then, she could see her breath misting the air in front of her. Even in her dizzy, weakened state, she thought that the little puffs looked pathetically weak, and they were getting weaker.

She forced herself to take deeper breaths and felt her muscles protest. Just a few minutes, she thought. Just a few minutes. Please. So I can be sure they're alive. So I can say goodbye.

With a grunt of effort that was really no more than a squeak, she pulled her rear legs free. Immediately, gravity reached up and snatched her, and she felt herself begin to slide off of the dragon's back.

She couldn't have stopped herself if she wanted to. Her legs wouldn't respond in time. Besides, even if the impact would hurt, it was the fastest, easiest way to the ground.

She landed on her side. As expected, it hurt, and she felt the wind knocked out of her. Her head swam, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Then another. For a moment, she was certain that she was about to go under for the final time, but, as if in answer to her silent pleas, the rhythm started again.

Thank you.

The world became a blur, consisting of nothing but disjointed sensations and the certainty that she would be able to sleep soon. At one point, she became aware that she was crying. It was an odd way of crying. Tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes, but that was all. She didn't feel her breath hitching. She couldn't even feel herself shaking any more.

She even felt warm.

Then she realized that she was sitting against something. It took her an eternity to realize what it was.

Spike had curled over Pith and Compass when he struck the doors, trying to shield the two of them from the blow. He had undoubtedly absorbed a lot of it - his scales were stronger than any armor, and he had grown to something almost twice the size of a minotaur before impact. She found herself wondering how many of his bones, if any, remained unbroken. Probably not many.

When he had landed, he had somehow managed to twist himself to the side, holding both of his arms out in a desperate attempt to avoid crushing the ponies he was holding. It probably hadn't worked. But that was where she was, now. She was sitting with her back against one of the dragon's outflung arms.

To her amazement, Tailspin found herself smiling. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and she knew that she was going to die there, cold, alone, and surrounded by dead friends. She would never even get to say goodbye to Pith, or to hear him say all the stupid things that he thought should be said when they both knew them already.

But all she could think of was that, up until the very end, Spike had tried to shield them, and Pith had tried to find an escape for them, and Compass had kept trying to find the path. They had all tried, in the only ways they could. Because they had been friends.

Friends to the end, she thought. I'm glad I knew all of you.

The pegasus' head fell back against the scales behind her. In the darkness, she shut her eyes, ignoring the tears, and laughed.

Something was leaving her now. She could feel it. She could even track its progress, count down to what she knew would be her last breath.

Just four now, she thought, feeling her head swim. Just four. And then I can finally sleep.

She was dimly conscious of a new sensation. It was a feeling of slight pressure against her legs. With three breaths left to her, she managed to lift her head and peer at the source.

There was something in her lap. It was a piece of ornate gold jewelry, with a ruby shaped like a heart set into it. In the eternity between her third and second to last breaths, she remembered what it was, and smiled again.

He never did let her go, really, she mused to herself. She didn't know or care how it had gotten into her lap. At this point, what did it matter? One of her forehooves - she was too disoriented to be sure whether it was the right or the left - came up to settle against the gem. He truly-

-loved her.

There. In the very deepest facets of the ruby, there was something. Something strong.

Just one breath left, now. If she just let out that breath, she could sleep. It would be so easy, and she had been so exhausted for so long. But she could remember Pith Helmet's expression when she had told him what the cocoon had done to her, and what it meant would happen. She remembered how he had begged.

In the darkness, Tailspin closed her eyes and drank.


Every part of Compass Rose's body hurt. Her ribs felt as though they had been crushed, her legs felt like they would never move again, and her neck felt as though someone had tried very hard to break it. Even the hairs of her coat ached. But nothing compared to the unabated head-splitting migraine-crossed-with-an-industrial-saw feeling in her skull. Her horn was pure torture.

Wherever she was, there was magic all around. It wasn't good magic, either. Even half-blinded as she was, she could sense the similarities between this magic and the cruel power that Queen Chrysalis had wielded. This magic took, and never stopped taking. It was hungry and corrosive. She could feel the waves of it crawling over her coat like an army of insects that she couldn't shake off.

It took her a while to realize that she could sense other things, as well, using her more mundane senses. The most obvious of them was a sensation of warmth, and the sound of things crackling.

Fire.

She opened her eyes, and was immediately rewarded by a stab of pain as light far too bright for her flooded her pupils. After a few seconds, when she could raise her eyelids above a squint without groaning, she raised her head.

They were in what looked like an entrance hall of some sort. It put her in mind of the castle in the Tangle, but this one was, somehow, even larger and more ornately decorated. She would have considered it even more beautiful, if it hadn't been for the shadows.

The darkness in the hall seemed somehow thicker than it should be, as if it were an entity in its own right rather than just a descriptor applied to an area where light was not. Odd shapes seemed to shift and dance within them whenever she looked away, but always vanished before she could turn back.

She shook her head vigorously for a moment. There was a fire to her back. That needed to be investigated.

Slowly, groaning with the effort, she turned over.

This entrance hall shared another trait with the castle in the Tangle: there were massive, ornate tapestries draped over the walls. Somepony had taken one of them down and heaped it up on the stone floor, then set fire to it. It didn't burn well - thick, black smoke poured out of it, drifting upwards and into the cavernous recesses of the room - but it did provide a bit of warmth.

Spike was lying a few yards away, on one side of the fire. The dragon looked as though he hadn't moved after hitting the ground. He was still massive and powerful-looking, but he also looked beaten, like a prize fighter that had lost, and lost hard. His mouth was open, and she could see that several of his fangs had been broken. Several of the ridges that trailed along his spine had also shattered, and even a few of his scales looked as though they had splintered with the force of impact.

It was his wings that were the worst, though. Compass felt a sympathetic lurch from her stomach when she saw what had happened to them. One was curled up under his torso, pinned to the stone and mostly obscured from view, but even lying like that, she could tell that the skeins of flesh between the bones of it had been ripped horrifically. The other one, the one that wasn't pinned under him, was worse. Not only was it as badly torn as the other, but it was turned back on itself. One of its joints had been twisted in entirely the wrong way.

Compass wasn't certain how well dragons healed, but she found it difficult to imagine that Spike would ever get airborne again.

A soft sound caught her attention, and she twisted her head around to look for its source. It took her a moment to spot it - the fire was in the way. It also didn't help that the red of Tailspin's coat was the same hue as the fire.

She blinked.

Tailspin's-

It took her a moment to get her hooves under her, and when she finally managed it, she found it difficult to even attempt to stand. She settled for lifting herself up on her forelegs and squinting over the flames.

It was Tailspin. The pegasus was crouched over Pith Helmet, who was lying full-length on the stone floor, and grunting softly as she twisted something around one of the stallion's legs.

"Tailspin?"

The flame-coated mare paused, then turned to look at Compass over her shoulder, grinning broadly. There was a glint of gold and crimson around her neck. "Hey," she said. "I'm glad you're awake. It was getting lonely."

Compass simply gaped for a few seconds. Just a few hours ago, the pegasus had looked skeletal and gray. Now her coat was back to its original brilliant incarnadine, and, while she still looked thin, she no longer looked as though anypony could play xylophone on her ribcage.

Finally, she managed to ask, "How?"

Tailspin lifted a hoof and pointed to the ruby necklace. "This," she said. "I ended up with it after the crash. I don't really know how, but I'm not complaining. It's... magic, or something close."

Compass' horn throbbed again, and she winced. "I guessed. I just didn't know it was healing magic."

Tailspin frowned and lowered her gaze, squirming awkwardly on the spot. "It's not."

"What?" Compass finally managed to push herself upright. Her legs shook under her and her muscles felt like they were on fire, but she managed it. "Then how are you... like this?"

The pegasus grimaced and turned back to Pith. Now that she was upright and could see over the fire, Compass could tell that the thing being wrapped around the stallion's leg was a makeshift splint.

"The cocoon did something to me," Tailspin muttered. "Something that your magic didn't heal. It made me like the changelings. I need to eat like they do."

Compass blinked. "You mean you feed on-"

"No," the pegasus said sharply. "I need to, but I don't. That's why I wasn't healing. I was starving myself." She paused, sighed, and added, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to blame yourself. I'm sorry."

The anger she seemed to be expecting didn't come. Compass just felt confused. "But then how are you better now?"

"The necklace has something in it," Tailspin said, still not looking up from her work on Pith's leg. "I think it's... a reservoir, or something, of all the things Spike felt for his wife. It's enough to keep me on my feet, at least. I'm not entirely comfortable with using it without asking him, but you all needed help."

There didn't really seem to be anything that could be said to that. Compass just shook her head, trying to get the room to stop spinning, and took a few shaky steps around the fire.

Tailspin was still focused on getting the splint set around Pith's leg. She had taken a pair of short, metal poles - presumably used to support the tapestry that was now blazing merrily behind her - and a series of thick strips of fabric that she had saved from the fire, and was busy attempting to try and tie the poles into place as best she could.

Pith was unconscious, and already had several large, pronounced bruises forming around his head and chest, but he was breathing. His leg, though, was obviously in bad shape. It was the same one that had been splinted for a hairline fracture back in the fortress. The crash had obviously turned that into a full break; even with the splint in place, it was bent in places that weren't meant to bend. Tailspin was doing her best, but she was no doctor.

Compass limped her way over to the two of them, then dropped onto the floor again, panting heavily. Tailspin glanced up from her work and frowned.

"Just stay still," she said. "Honestly, I'm amazed any of us are even alive. Rest."

"You're the one who had to be carried here," Compass murmured in response. She lowered herself to the ground anyway. She was too exhausted to really argue.

"Yes, and now I'm probably going to have to carry the rest of you out," answered the pegasus in a matter-of-fact tone. She gave one last grunt as she finished adjusting her amateur splint, then sighed. "It's not a very good set," she muttered, "but it's the best I can do. At least it isn't pointing the wrong way any more."

She stood up and trotted over to Compass. "What about you? Anything broken?"

Compass shook her head. "Don't think so," she said. "But my horn is killing me. This place is full of magic." She frowned, shuddered, and added, "Bad magic. Like Chrysalis', but... worse, somehow." She glanced towards the shadows at the edge of her vision again. "I don't like it here."

"Neither do I," said Tailspin, following her gaze. "But we can't leave. I don't know why those things haven't followed us inside, but I checked the hole in the door, and they're all out there, circling the castle. We're trapped."

"So what do we do?" Compass looked back to Spike. The dragon's chest still rose and fell steadily, but there were no other signs of movement.

There was a sigh from the pegasus. "You're not going to like my answer."

"I still need to hear it," said Compass, turning back to her and frowning. "We're the only two awake. We've got to do something."

Tailspin nodded and, apparently without thinking about it, lifted one of her hooves to rest against the ruby necklace. "Exactly," she said. "We're the only two awake, and we've got to do something. Spike isn't in any condition to go anywhere, and Pith's leg is... bad. Neither of them is going to be walking any time soon, and you're not in particularly great condition yourself. We can't stay here, and we can't go back outside. So." She took a deep breath, then continued, "I'm going further into the castle."

Compass blinked. "You're leaving us?"

"No." Tailspin shook her head rapidly. "Not for long, anyway. I'll check back in as often as I can. But we can't go outside, so we can't call for help, and we don't have the means to take care of Spike or Pith long enough for them to heal. We also don't have any guarantee that the ice-things outside aren't going to come after us. If we stay here, we're going to die, one way or another."

"So what does you going further into the castle change about that?" asked Compass. She couldn't keep the slight edge of panic out of her voice. The thought of being left in the hall with their two unconscious companions filled her with dread. The shadows were too close.

"I don't know," the pegasus admitted, frowning. "But Spike said that there might be something helpful here, even if we can't find the Elements of Harmony. Maybe I can find something that can help us. It's a long shot, but it's still a better shot than we have right now."

Slowly, Compass forced herself to nod. As much as she hated the idea of Tailspin leaving them, she couldn't think of anything better, and she really wasn't in any condition to go exploring herself. "Just promise you'll check back in as often as you can," she said.

Tailspin nodded. "Of course. Just watch Pith and Spike for me. If they wake up, they'll probably need food and water."

The image of Spike's broken wing forced itself into Compass' mind, and she grimaced. They'll need more than that.

There was a soft rustling sound, and she snapped back to reality. Tailspin was putting on a set of saddlebags, her expression determined, and staring towards the far end of the hall. "If the fire starts to get low, there's a tapestry by the door that fell off. You can use that for more fuel."

"You're leaving already?"

"No point in wasting time," said Tailspin. She flipped one of the helmets onto her head. Miraculously, its light was still functioning. "We still don't know how long we have until those things find a way in."

Again, Compass nodded. "All right," she said, still frowning. "Just... be careful, okay?"

"I will." The pegasus smiled at her. Compass was slightly surprised to realize that it was a natural smile, without any sign of being forced. "Don't worry," she continued. She reached out and placed one hoof on Compass' shoulder for a moment. "I won't leave you guys. Just take care of Pith and Spike for me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay." Compass shuddered, and Tailspin patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"It's gonna be all right," she said brightly. "We've survived a lot together. We'll get through this as well."

And she turned to trot away into the darkness.


At first, the grand architecture and faded glory of Castle Canterlot had put Tailspin in mind of the ruins they had found in the Tangle. These halls also featured ornate tapestries and exquisite statues depicting various famous figures from antiquity. Beyond that, the designs themselves were quite similar. More than once, Tailspin spotted a tapestry depicting the two alicorn sisters that Spike kept calling Celestia and Luna, along with a few showing Twilight Sparkle.

But that was where the similarities ended. That castle had been old and decaying, but normal. The stones had just been stones. If the changelings hadn't managed to follow them inside, they would have been perfectly safe there.

This castle felt different. Odd shapes twisted at the edges of her vision. More than once, she was certain that she could hear something whispering to her in some language she couldn't understand. The light from her helmet lamp didn't dispel the darkness so much as force it to retreat for a moment.

Castle Twilight had been ancient, but nothing more. This place was wrong.

She pressed on regardless, despite her lack of a set destination. She didn't know what might be in the castle. Even if she had, she wouldn't have known which direction to go first. Spike was the only member of the group who might have been able to point them towards significant locations, and he was unconscious.

She would have preferred to wait until he had woken up so that she could learn more about the castle before setting out, but the ice creatures were still outside. There wasn't any time to wait. So she kept walking, trying to ignore the rising dread in her gut.

Twice, she thought she heard something scrabbling along the stone behind her. Twice, she spun around to look, and saw nothing but the darkness and the ominous shapes dancing at the edge of sight.

She passed dozens of rooms as she wandered, and even more doors that she couldn't open. Most of the rooms that she could see, she couldn't easily identify. Some had obviously been sitting rooms. Others were guest bedrooms. One or two might have been something approaching a guard post. None of them contained anything that looked useful.

Finally, she rounded a corner and found herself standing in front of a set of doors that looked very different from the rest.

They were large, ornate double doors, easily large enough for Spike to fit through, even in his larger states. Tailspin couldn't be sure what sort of material they were made from. It appeared to be some sort of alabaster stone, engraved and inset with precious stones to form a picture so large that it covered every inch of the titanic surface.

It was a picture of six ponies, all mares, each on their hind legs and with an intricately-cut crystal in the shape of their cutie mark set over their heads. Five of them - two earth ponies, two pegasi, and a white-coated unicorn that she immediately recognized as Rarity - were arrayed around the edges of the doors, forming a sort of pentagon around the one in the center. That one could only have been Twilight Sparkle.

The gems sparkled brilliantly in the light from her helmet lamp, and for a moment, Tailspin almost forgot about the shadows that seemed to be closing in around her. Then she shook her head and stepped forward. She couldn't afford to waste time, even to admire such an amazing work. Especially when she had just stumbled across the first real sign that there might be something important here.

She stepped forward, and immediately stopped again.

Two of the gems set into the doors had begun to shine. It was a dim light, just barely bright enough to be seen, but it was there nonetheless. One of them was a ruby cut into the shape of an apple, set just above an orange-coated earth pony. The other was a set of pink balloons above a pink mare on the other side of the door.

She hesitated, unsure of whether or not to continue forward, but there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. She took another step. The gems shone a bit brighter.

She swallowed, set her jaw, and began to walk forward again.

There was a quiet rumbling and, ahead of her, the double doors began to swing inward. The room beyond was massive, even larger than the entrance hall, and her helmet lamp only illuminated the very closest section of it. She could just make out two rows of statues, one to each side, depicting the same mares on the door. And, at the very furthest end of the room, there were a pair of thrones.

Tailspin froze.

There was somepony sitting on one of them.

The figure was tall and sinuous, but it lacked any sort of grace. Its proportions were off, its limbs malformed and asymmetric. One of its arms was long, thin, and had fingers tipped with sharp talons, while the other was short and thickly muscled. Its legs were uneven, one scaled and one hooved. Even its horns were mismatched.

But the worst thing about it was its face. It was a twisted, garish caricature of a pony's, with a horribly twisted muzzle and misshapen head. Its teeth were sharp, jagged, and jutted from its mouth at freakish angles. One of them was especially long and wicked-looking, curving down over the monster's lower jaw and gleaming in the dim light.

And its eyes, its horrible, yellow eyes with their crazed, blood-red irises, were fixed firmly on Tailspin, whose legs had lost their ability to function. All she could do was stare, motionless, and hope that it would turn away so that she could bolt.

It didn't. As she watched, its lips curled into a tiny, predatory smile, exposing still more of those hideous teeth.

"Ah," it said. Its voice dripped self-satisfaction. "I was wondering when one of you would finally find me." It pushed itself off of the throne and, to Tailspin's amazement, sank into a low, theatrical bow. "I am Discord, Lord of Chaos. And the pleasure, I'm sure, is all mine."

20: Roll The Dice

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Every fiber of Tailspin's being thrummed with the desperate desire to turn tail, leap into the air, and fly as far and fast as her wings could take her. The thing, the twisted chimera with the malicious smile, was looking at her. It was coming closer.

But her legs didn't seem to want to move.

Those eyes were drilling into hers. They looked sickly and feverish, and one was far larger than the other. They seemed to shine in the darkness.

She couldn't look away.

"Oh, come now," the thing said. Its voice was still full of that oily smugness, and it was walking towards her with a lurching, uneven gait, its body coiling and uncoiling unnaturally with each step. "I am fully aware that my looks can be rather startling-" it bared its teeth at her in a motion that just barely met the requirements for being called a grin "-but, believe me, if I were going to do anything really nasty to you, it would have started already."

Finally, Tailspin managed to force her legs into motion. She still couldn't tear her gaze away from the thing's eyes, but she did succeed in taking a few shaky steps backward, into the hall from which she had come.

"W-" Her voice came out as a squeak. It was hard to even think of any appropriate words through the terror clouding her mind, and it was even harder to try and get her throat to respond. She tried again. "Who-"

The thing rolled its eyes. It wasn't a normal motion. Rather than simply moving in a circle in their sockets, both eyes flipped around entirely until they were pointed back into its head, then kept going until they had come full circle. "I did just say that, didn't I?" It sounded a bit exasperated now, but still cruelly, sarcastically amused. "I'm afraid you might have some sort of problem up here."

There was the sensation of the world twisting, and Tailspin felt her stomach heave as something that she couldn't put words to happened. There was the sensation that her eyes were seeing something that her brain couldn't process. The result was that she felt as though someone had just unstopped a drain in her head and all rational thought was pouring out of it.

The thing was gone, leaving only empty space behind. But there was something else, now - a new feeling entirely. She felt a sort of pressure inside her left ear, and there was the distinct, impossible sensation that something far too large for her ear canal had somehow managed to get inside it without in any way actually stretching it. She froze.

"Well, I must admit, I'm at a loss." Its voice was too close now, far too close, and seemed to echo around the inside of her skull. "Everything in here appears to be in working order. There really is no rational explanation for you not having heard me."

When the thing somehow pulled itself free of her ear, still at its full size but still somehow, impossibly, managing to pull itself out without ripping a hole in her head, she felt simultaneously as though she wanted to scream and vomit. She couldn't manage either. Her body wasn't capable of that much movement. Absolute, abject fear had frozen her muscles more completely than any ice. All she could do was whimper.

"Nothing for it, I suppose," the creature said in an airy, conversational tone. It was walking in circles around her now, twirling its clawed hand lazily through the air. "I'll just have to try again. I am Discord. I am Lord of Chaos, King of Madness, and Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities." It paused. "Or was it the other way around? Ah, no matter." It gave a dry chuckle. "If you prefer, you can call me Dizzy. Because we're friends."

It elbowed Tailspin in the side with its furred arm, and she staggered. The shock of its touch seemed to jar her frozen brain into action again, and she shook her head quickly, trying to clear it. The terror was still there, and still overriding most logical thought processes, but she could fight it now.

...Sort of. A bit.

"F-friends?" She could still barely force the words out. Her jaw didn't want to move. "I don't-"

"You d-d-don't...?" Discord was facing away from her as he spoke, but again, his body contorted freakishly until he was bent over backwards so far that he could grin at the pegasus, upside-down. "Don't what? Understand? You mean Spike never told you about me? Oh, I'm hurt. I truly am. Of all the things that could happen, this is the worst-"

Again, there was that horrible sensation of the word twisting, and suddenly the chimera was lying, in a pose of overdramatized woe, on an ornate fainting couch.

"-possible thing!"

It cracked open one eye, then scowled. "Well," it grumbled, sounding suddenly peeved, "on second thought, that would probably have gone over better if he was actually here. Mocking the dearly departed is so much more entertaining when somepony in the audience is personally offended by it."

Another twist. The fainting couch vanished. Discord was simply standing there once again, watching her with a thoughtful expression on his misshapen face.

Enough of Tailspin's mind was functioning again that she was actually able to form a coherent question. It took her a few seconds to get her vocal cords to cooperate, but eventually, she croaked, "You know Spike?"

"Oh, of course." Without any transition whatsoever, Discord was suddenly beside her. No, worse. He had one of his arms around her. The shock and revulsion of that touch almost made her miss the photo album that was suddenly being shoved in her face.

It looked like a scrapbook put together by someone's old grandmother when she had far too much time on her hooves. There were at least half a dozen photographs visible on the two open pages alone. The chimera's free hand came around to point at one of them in particular, which showed the six mares from the doorway standing in front of Discord, scowling. Each of them was wearing a gem in the same shape as their cutie mark.

"Spike and I go way back," the thing purred in her ear. Its breath was rank and hot, stinking of rotten meat. Again, she felt her stomach lurch, but she hadn't eaten much for several days. There was nothing to come up, even as more of the stench rolled over her from Discord's continued speech. "We first met when his friends all joined together and used the Elements of Harmony to blast me back into a statue for a few months."

He gave a slight sniff, and shut the scrapbook with a snap. It disappeared immediately, with yet another brief flash of... something that made Tailspin's eyeballs ache.

"Good times," Discord was saying. He had straightened up and was wiping a few tears away from his larger eye. "But that wasn't the extent of our relationship, of course. After a while, Princess Celestia got it into her adorable little head that I could be reformed. That I could learn to understand the magic of friendship, and use my powers for the benefit of others rather than my own amusement. Just another sickeningly-sweet plan in a long line of sickeningly-sweet plans."

He took a few steps away, and Tailspin took a few rapid gulps of relatively fresher air. Discord wasn't paying attention. He had wandered away, towards one of the statues on the right-hand side of the hall. It depicted an elegant-looking pegasus mare with a gentle smile and a cutie mark shaped like a trio of butterflies.

"She conscripted Fluttershy here-" Discord waved his clawed arm at the statue "-to be my therapist, so to speak. I never really did understand why she didn't choose Pinkie Pie instead. More common ground, you know. And then she left me in Ponyville, expecting me, the immortal embodiment of chaos and disharmony, to make friends."

Tailspin took another few steps backward. So long as the thing kept talking, she was still alive. Maybe it would get so wrapped up in its monologue that she could make a break for it. She gulped, then squeaked, "I take it that didn't work."

"Hah!" Discord laughed for a moment, then turned to grin at her again. "Well, that would have been the logical conclusion to the matter," he said. "But I decided a long time ago that there is no fun to be had in being logical about things like this. No, no, it worked. If it hadn't..."

He paused for a moment, lifting his gaze to the ceiling and muttering to himself. "Let's see," he said. One arm came up as he began to count off on his fingers. "Your scout would never have seen the castle in the Tangle, Spike would still be asleep, your coltfriend would never have found that handy little magic branch, you and your two pony friends would have been devoured by changelings, the windigos would be inside this castle right now, you would all have died instantaneously from hitting the gates, Spike's little trinket would still be around his neck instead of yours, and you'd have starved to death back in the entrance hall."

Tailspin shut her eyes to block out the nauseating sight of Discord's hand sprouting extra fingers to count on. "So we'd have died three times over, despite the fact that we wouldn't even have survived the first one?" It wasn't a particularly insightful thing to say, but something about being close to Discord seemed to be sapping her of her ability to form coherent thoughts.

"What did I say about logic?" Discord laughed. "Really. It's so much more fun if you just let it go. But..." He gave a theatrical sigh. "I know it's hard for you ponies to really get to grips with insanity. Poor souls." There was a pause. "Except Pinkie Pie, of course. Though you are disappointingly unlike her. Not a single party cannon to be found."

The pegasus opened her eyes again, cautiously, unsure of what she might see. To her relief, Discord still remained in a somewhat comprehensible position. He was perched on the head of one of the other statues, the one showing a frizzy-maned earth pony with the balloon cutie mark. Where he had conjured the glass of iced tea from, she had no idea, but so long as he wasn't rummaging around inside her head again, or altering his body in impossible ways, she could... well, "handle it" was the wrong phrase. "Stomach it" was better.

"All right," she said, trying to force her heart to stop beating so fast. "So you're... reformed."

"Indubitably." The chimeric monstrosity drained the glass in one titanic slurp, then tossed the glass away over a shoulder. There was no sound of impact. It then gave her what was apparently meant to be a cherubic smile, but only succeeded in exposing its teeth once more.

She shuddered. "And you've been helping us."

"Incontrovertibly."

Tailspin narrowed her eyes. "Why? What are you? Why should I trust you?"

Discord sat up straight and gave an awkward salute. "In reverse order, ma'am," he barked, in a sudden parody of a military tone, "you shouldn't, I refer you to my previous answers on the subject, and because, aside from being a reformed villain, things were getting unbearably boring around here."

"Boring?" Tailspin gave him a sidelong look. She couldn't stop herself from edging away a bit further.

Suddenly, Discord's mismatched hands had gripped her around her barrel, and she was being lifted into the air. How the thing had gotten behind her so quickly, she didn't know. She just knew that it was touching her again, and the sensation made her skin crawl. She fought to suppress a scream.

"Yes, yes, yes," babbled Discord. He tugged her further up, into the air above the statues, and then squeezed her hard, as if she were a stuffed doll. "Boring beyond belief, and not just because I've been stuck in this dank throne room for more centuries than I care to remember. I swear, it's almost as bad as being a statue. I mean..."

Without warning, he released her, and this time Tailspin couldn't suppress the shriek as she began to plummet back towards the ground. She tried to spread her wings, but she was in the wrong position entirely for arresting a fall, and even if she weren't, her body was still weak. She wasn't certain that she would be able to fly under ideal conditions, let alone this.

Then she felt her hooves impact something familiar. She blinked, looked down, and blinked again, certain that she must be seeing things.

There was a cloud hovering beneath her, just a few yards above the floor. It wasn't a normal cloud, either. It appeared to be made out of cotton candy. But it supported her weight, at least.

Discord, once again, didn't seem to be paying her any attention. He was doing the backstroke through the air, eyes closed, and rambling to the world in general. Watching him made Tailspin's eyes water again. She had the very distinct feeling that the world was not meant to do the things that Discord made it do.

"...can say what you like about Celestia, but at least things were interesting when she was in charge," he said casually, not even looking towards her. "Oh, she was far too stuffy for my own good, but there is something to be said for a functional monarchy. Having a country that ran smoothly always made the little muck-ups that much sweeter. Absence, as they say." He opened his eyes, frowning, and finished, in a rather more serious tone, "But then she had to go and die."

"I thought alicorns were immortal," Tailspin said. She shifted her hooves slightly on the surface of the cloud, trying to find a stable surface. The candyfloss was starting to melt and stick to her coat.

Another twist, another moment's feeling that reality was being put through the wringer, and Discord was back on the ground. This time, he was wearing... something. It was an odd ensemble in dark purple, nothing really coherent. He was also holding an equine skull in one hand, and appeared to be speaking to it rather than to Tailspin.

"Oh, they are," he said, his voice regaining its usual tone of smug self-satisfaction. "When it comes to time, at least. They can still be killed. They're like dragons. That's why the world isn't overrun with scaly fire-breathers, you know. They tend to slaughter one another over their hoards. Only a few of them live to be as old as little Spikey-Wikey out there. But I digress."

He crushed the skull between his talons with a wet snapping sound that made Tailspin feel like she was coming close to vomiting again, then sighed. "She was killed by her own little sister," he said. "Sibling squabbles always were such a painful thing to witness. And then poor Twilight had to step in and finish the job on Luna. Of course..."

The purple clothing vanished, and Discord was hovering in the air beside her cotton candy perch, grinning like a lunatic again. "For all her knowledge and talent, Twilight never was the most well-balanced of ponies," he said, in a conspiratorial whisper. "She never did fully recover from that. I tried to comfort her, of course, especially after what happened to Cadence. I was the only friend she had in the world, with Spike asleep."

Tailspin felt a sudden surge of pity towards Twilight Sparkle, which she fought desperately to keep from showing in her expression. Whether or not Discord noticed anything, he kept talking regardless. "Eventually, she got fed up with me and locked me away in here. Can you imagine? Just for trying to educate her on some of the finer points of friendship." He gave an offended huff. "And after that, things went downhill fast, just like I told her they would. And it's all come down to this mess you call a life."

He spun one claw through the air, and Tailspin's eyes widened as a map of the world, constructed, so far as she could tell, entirely from various pieces of pastry, manifested itself in front of him. It was barely a foot across, but exquisitely detailed all the same.

"You ponies are all just living out your miserable, regimented little lives behind the wall," Discord said, sounding completely exasperated now. "And Chrysalis was content to keep her subjects fed with the occasional raid rather than risk a full-on assault. Oh, there's been the occasional stray monster wandering into the settlements, and, of course, there's the annual visit from our friend in space, but nothing really interesting has happened in centuries, especially with Cadence just cooped up and waiting to die. So I decided to roll the dice and see if I couldn't shake things up a bit."

He reached out and delicately plucked away a few strands of licorice that denoted the location of the Tangle. Underneath was a large purple gumdrop.

"Dear old Spike," he said affectionately, giving the gumdrop a small pat. The licorice disappeared into his toothy maw with a snap of colliding teeth. "We never saw eye-to-eye, the two of us, but he did always have a habit of surprising people. And, right now, I think this world is due for a surprise. It took a while to worm a hole into the spell Princess Priss put on my little jail cell, and even longer to gather enough strength to reach out and try to do something with it, but eventually, I managed it."

He spread his arms wide and beamed at her. "And so here we are!"

Tailspin gave him a blank stare for a few seconds. Then she sighed. "All right," she said. "Fine. Let's say that I believe you. You're the one who's been helping us out this whole time. You still haven't told me why. What's your plan?"

"Why, to help, of course!" Discord snapped his fingers, and the candy replica of the world vanished. "Whether or not you believe it, I did actually learn something about friendship from my time in Ponyville, and even someone like myself can have an altruistic urge every once in a while."

Tailspin's expression didn't change.

He rolled his eyes again. "Oh, fine," he said. "I admit that a teeny-tiny part of it might also be that I'm a bit miffed at Miss Sparkle for locking me up in here."

"Then how," the pegasus said slowly, "does helping us get back at her for that?"

Discord's face broke into another impossibly wide, predatory grin. "Oh, my dear, sweet filly," he purred, "haven't you figured it out yet? Twilight Sparkle is the Mare in the Moon."

21: The Lesson

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Spike felt as though someone had beaten his entire body with a sledgehammer.

He had experienced bits and pieces of this sensation before. Dragons were tough things, but accidents happened. Injuries tended to pile up even when he wasn't helping his friends save the world. Once, Scootaloo had landed directly on him, scooter and all, while attempting a new stunt. The result had been several shattered scales and a broken ridge. Another time, he had been assisting the Apples in refurbishing their barn, and one of the supports had given way at the wrong moment. He had lost a few teeth from that, and his right hand had been broken.

This felt like someone had taken all of his past experiences with pain, rolled them up into one white-hot iron bar, and then gone to town on him with it. Even the festering, acidic bubbling sensation of his wounds from Chrysalis was back.

His left wing was trapped underneath him, which was uncomfortable, and he could tell that the skin on it was ripped, which was painful. He considered rolling over and freeing it, but that would involve moving his other wing. He decided against it. Even with his eyes shut, he could tell that it was pointing in entirely the wrong direction, and even the thought of attempting to move it made him shudder.

He settled for opening his eyes.

Only one of them really responded. His left eye felt as though it was swollen shut. He squinted in the sudden flare of light and let out a rumbling groan.

The light was too bright, and he was still too disoriented, for him to really take in his surroundings. He could smell smoke, and the light stabbing into his pupil had a flickering, orange quality, which meant somepony had lit a fire. There were also a couple voices whispering back and forth, though he couldn't quite place where he knew them from just yet.

When he groaned, the voices suddenly became quiet, and he heard hoofsteps approaching. After a moment, Compass Rose's face swam into view. The unicorn, thankfully, looked as though she hadn't been badly injured by the crash. She was limping, and obviously bruised, but nothing worse.

"Spike?" she asked, radiating concern. "Are you all right?"

The dragon gave this due consideration. Then he coughed, dislodging a few fractured teeth, and said, "No." His voice was a low, powerful, almost tectonic sound. He was obviously still in his larger state.

Compass' eyes widened. "Your mouth-"

Spike managed to shake his head, and immediately regretted it. His neck creaked audibly with the motion. "Not a big deal," he croaked. "Dragons... lose teeth all the time. They'll grow back."

He caught sight of Pith Helmet. The earth pony was seated on the far side of the fire with one leg stretched out at an awkward angle. He gave Spike a concerned look, but didn't say anything. Compass obviously had the situation in hand.

"What about your - your wings?" the unicorn was saying. She was looking away, towards the rest of his body, and Spike knew that the flinch on her features was on his behalf.

He almost turned to try and look at them, but caught himself at the last moment. Movement was a bad idea at the current time. Besides, he could feel the damage. He settled for snorting and saying, "Those don't."

"Well, that is wonderful," said a new voice. This one dripped with malicious amusement. "That leaves Team Friendship as, let's see, a unicorn who can't use magic, an earth pony who can't walk, a pegasus on magical life support, a dragon who can't fly, and one of the top four most despised entities in Equestrian history." There was a cackle. "Truly, a force to make the assembled armies of evil and generalized nastiness quake in their boots."

Spike shut his eyes and let out another groan. Of course it would be him, he thought. As if things couldn't get any worse. He heard Compass Rose gasp and take a few steps away from the source of the sound.

"Oh, come now, Spike," said Discord brightly. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? After so long, too. I would have thought Rarity would rub off on you after a while. She was always an excellent hostess."

It took the dragon a moment to gather the willpower to open his eyes again. When he did, he wished he hadn't. Discord always hurt to look at when he was doing... whatever he was doing that made reality bend like that.

The chimera was standing in what appeared to be a gondola surrounded by a tiny lake of milk chocolate. Both the boat and the lake were suspended several yards above the ground, laughing in the face of gravity, and Discord was perched in the back, poling his way along with a length of wood that reached all the way down to the stone floor.

Tailspin was standing in the front of the boat, wearing a very familiar expression. It was the same expression everyone wore once they had been around Discord for any length of time, a sort of mix of absolute terror and near-terminal annoyance. She was staring fixedly ahead, as if attempting to ignore the maniac. Spike noticed that she was standing in an odd position, but he couldn't make out her hooves from this angle. What he could see was that she was wearing Rarity's necklace.

"Spike?" Compass hissed. She was attempting to hide behind one of his outstretched arms. "What is that?"

Before Spike could answer, Discord gave a theatrical sigh. "You see," he said, apparently addressing Tailspin, "this is the point where I should be making my fainting couch joke. He would get it. But nooooo, I had to go and spoil my own fun."

"That's Discord," Spike grumbled. "I was hoping we wouldn't find him."

"Why, Spike, you wound me!" Discord brought his little flying boat over to hover in the air above their fire, then reached down and removed something from its floor. There was a brief gurgling sound, and Spike realized that the noise was a plug being removed. The little chocolate lake disappeared upward, through the tiny hole and into the gondola, and the boat began to sink towards the ground.

It touched down with a clunk of wood against stone, and Discord stepped out, leaving Tailspin behind, trapped in what was effectively a tub full of chocolate, with her hooves affixed to something that appeared to be a mass of melted cotton candy. Tailspin just stared straight ahead, jaw set. There was a muscle jumping over one of her eyes.

"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me, after all I've done to help you," said Discord, strolling over towards the fire and waving one claw expansively. "I mean, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be safe and sound here inside the castle."

Spike's wings twinged. "Yes," he growled. "We're so grateful. What do you want, Discord?"

"Didn't I just say?" There was another stab of uncomfortableness from Spike's eyes as Discord rearranged reality around him once more, leaving him sprawled on a lounge chair beside the fire, wrapped in a bath robe and holding a large glass of something that was, presumably, alcoholic. The effect was slightly spoiled by the crazy straw in it. "I'm here as part of Team Friendship."

"He's apparently been helping us this whole time," said Tailspin, her voice slightly strained. "Getting Pith the branch, getting me the necklace, making it so that we survived that crash."

"Thank you, Tailspin," said Discord magnanimously. He gave a hefty slurp on his crazy straw and turned a look of smug self-satisfaction on Spike. "You see? If the Element of Honesty says it, then you know it must be true."

"Are you ever," said Tailspin through gritted teeth, "going to get me off of this thing?" The cotton candy pile that she was stuck to gave a wet squelch and sank slightly into the lake of milk.

"Oh, fine." Discord gave a sigh and snapped his clawed fingers. There was another twist, and the gondola vanished, along with the cotton candy. This left an extremely damp, sticky-looking, and livid Tailspin standing in the middle of an expanding puddle of chocolate milk.

"I don't believe I heard a thank you," Discord called over his shoulder as he stirred his drink with the straw.

"That's because I didn't say it." Tailspin's voice was level and even. If it weren't for the expression on her face, she would have seemed perfectly calm.

Discord gave a huff. "Well, fine," he says. "Be that way. Pinkie Pie always found my chocolate gondola rides highly enjoyable, but I suppose even Laughter changes over the years."

"What are you talking about?" It was Pith's voice. The stallion was still sprawled awkwardly on the stone floor a few feet away from Discord, and was eyeing him warily.

"The Elements of Harmony, of course." Discord drained the rest of his glass, which immediately refilled itself from nowhere, and gave Pith what he obviously believed was a winning smile. It just turned his face into a forest of knife-like teeth. "Your marefriend over there is the bearer of Laughter and Honesty, in case you hadn't figured it out yet. Not the combination I would have chosen - Honesty always finds a way to turn even the most entertaining ponies stuffy - but there you are. The ability to face up to things as they really are, warts and all-" another smile "-and the ability to find joy in them anyway. A perfect combination, if you can call such a subdued version of Laughter 'perfect'. Like peanut butter and..." He stopped, looking thoughtful. "Bananas, I think it was. Yes. Peanut butter and bananas."

Spike sighed. Having Discord around for any length of time was like a cheese grater being scraped across his frontal lobe. He would almost have preferred the windigos. They would have been less painful.

"This is Discord," he said, glancing over to Pith. Compass was still hiding behind his arm, and he didn't have the energy to look at her. "He's... the spirit of disharmony."

"Ah-ah!" Discord raised a claw. "Reformed spirit of disharmony, thank you very much. Tia even gave me a sticker as a reward for good behavior, once. It was a little golden sun with a happy face. I seem to have misplaced it."

"Right." Spike sighed and shut his eyes again. Just watching Discord was tiring enough. "He's... well, he's aggravating, but he's sort of on our side, I'm guessing, because if he wasn't, reality would be coming apart at the seams right now."

"Yes," grunted Tailspin. She was attempting to scrape the cotton candy off of one of her legs, but was only succeeding in getting it stuck to the other legs involved in the process. "He seems like he really wants to help, and he says he knows where the Elements of Harmony are." She gave a slight cough. "Among other things."

"That's what I was afraid of," Spike muttered, still not opening his eyes. "Whenever Discord wants to help, things tend to get a lot worse very fast."

"I assure you, I have the best intentions." Discord reclined into his seat and took another long slurp from his drink. "Perhaps you can fault me on execution - you all did turn up on my doorstep a little less intact than I would like - but I am doing my best."

Spike forced himself to open his eyes again, ignoring the continued pains from the rest of his body. "Your 'help' hasn't gone so far as to actually stop any of these horrible things from happening. What about Pith's leg, or Compass' horn? Did your 'good intentions' not stretch that far?"

"Well," huffed Discord, sitting up a little straighter, "ex-cuse me for not being quite so omnipotent as I once was. It's hardly my fault that I don't have the magical reserves that I used to. Your precious Twilight Sparkle took care of that."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "So Twilight took your powers away from you," he growled. "Princess Celestia told her never to do that unless you stepped over the line. Why should I believe that you want to help us when you've just admitted that you went back to your old ways badly enough that Twilight had to stop you?"

"Oh, please." Discord scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Tia was a stuffy old pony, but I actually did think of her as a friend, you know. Just like I thought the same of Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, even if the rest of you never trusted me." He folded his mismatched arms over his chest and scowled. "It is hardly my fault that Twilight never even attempted to bond with me the same way they did. Nor is it my fault that she took away my powers for no good reason."

"Friends?" Spike could feel the fire rising in his gut again, and the wounds from Queen Chrysalis' attack were stinging violently. "You didn't even come to their funerals, you lying-"

"Well, of course I didn't!" the creature interrupted. "Can you imagine the scene if I had tried? I can. And, while it would have been absolutely hilarious, I decided that I would rather pay my respects privately, after the ceremony, to avoid causing a scene and tarnishing the memories of the first two ponies who ever really treated me as a friend rather than something to be tolerated." He lifted his head up haughtily and snorted, looking scandalized. "Even I can learn a bit of restraint, you know."

Spike was about to open his mouth to roar at the misshapen thing when Tailspin stepped in. "Spike," she said flatly, "you're getting off-track. And..." She grimaced. "As much as it might hurt you to hear it, I think Discord is telling the truth. Twilight took away his powers for no good reason, because she was starting to... well, crack."

The dragon brought his one good eye around to stare at her. "What," he said slowly, "are you talking about?"

Tailspin was sitting back on her haunches with her forelegs held out in front of her. She had managed to get most of the cotton candy off now, but she was still damp. Even with her coat matted and sticky, however, she looked far better than she had the last time she had been tied to his back for transport.

"I mean," she said, obviously picking her words carefully, "that Twilight was alone for a long time after a series of events that really, really hurt her. Celestia and Luna died, Spike. You read about it in that journal. That left her alone with Discord when she needed a real friend to help her." She glanced at the chimera, grimaced, and forced herself to add, "No offense."

"None taken," said Discord airily. "As I said, it's hardly my fault if Princess Sparkle never had any interest in becoming friends with me. I tried regardless, because nopony else was going to, and I could see where all of this was going to end. Eventually, she got fed up with me, shoved me into the throne room and locked me up, just for trying to help."

"But-" Spike looked back and forth between the two of them. There seemed to be a great, yawning pit opening up in his stomach. "But then why didn't she wake me?" It was almost a wail.

"Well, I would have thought that was obvious." Discord shrugged. "I mean, really. Her baby brother, who is also, in a manner of speaking, her son, loses his wife and all his friends, and spends years wallowing in depression because everypony he knew and loved growing up is gone. He decides that he needs some time away from it all, and leaves her with the means to bring him out of his happy dream-time."

"So?" Spike stared at him.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?" Discord heaved a great sigh, then snapped his fingers again.

Immediately, there was the sound of hoofsteps from the staircase. For a moment, Spike's heart leapt; a tall, elegant purple alicorn with a mane filled with starlight was walking down the steps. Then, as quickly as it had come, the brief glimmer of hope vanished. The image of Twilight was translucent, and there was another, equally-obvious fake Discord floating along behind it.

"I said no, Discord," snapped the simulacrum. Its voice was hollow, and seemed to echo around the entrance hall. "I will not bring him back to this. It was bad enough to lose the others. I won't pull him out of his dreams just to make him support me."

"But he did say..." began the not-Discord, raising one clawed hand. Part of Spike registered that the real Discord was mouthing along with the words, and had raised one hand to move his fingers in an imitation of talking.

"He said for me to call on him if I needed him," snapped Twilight. "But that would mean interrupting his rest and bringing back all those painful memories just to add even more weight to his shoulders. I will not put Spike through that. I will not."

"So what's your plan, then?" said Discord's double, in a purely conversational tone. "Just sit up there in that tower, all alone, and pretend that you can carry the whole world on your shoulders? You can't, you know. It's much too heavy. Weighs tons."

"Spike told me to wake him if I needed him," Twilight said. "But I will not do that to him. So I will become somepony who won't need him. Not even for this."

The images reached the base of the stairs, where Twilight's stopped, wings spread, breathing hard. Spike saw that she had obviously been crying; her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and she shook slightly as she stood.

The Discord copy lowered itself to the ground and folded its arms, frowning. For once in his life, Discord actually looked quite serious, and there was no hint of his usual unctuousness in his voice when he said, "I did try to tell Tia about this, you know."

Twilight glared at him. "About what?"

"About the lesson. My lesson. About friendship." Discord gave her a long, considering look. "I told her you would need to hear it before long, but she wouldn't let me. She said I was wrong." He gave a heavy, genuinely regretful sigh. "You know, I respected Tia. But she was wrong about a lot of things, and this is one of them. But it's probably too late for it to make any difference now."

The alicorn snorted and tossed her head, looking disdainful. "You have a lesson to teach me about friendship?"

Discord merely shrugged. "Well, yes. Tia couldn't tell you, because she never learned it herself. None of you ever could, because you wouldn't let yourselves think about it. But it's still true, and it's still important."

Twilight gave him a sarcastic smile. It was a sharp little smile, like the edge of a knife blade. "Very well, then, Discord," she said calmly. "Tell me. What is this lesson?"

Discord drew himself up. For a moment, he had the look of a pony who was about to do something that he knew would end badly.

He took a deep breath and said, "That it ends."

The forced smile on Twilight's face didn't drain. It crumbled, and it seemed to take the rest of her with it. Spike felt the yawning void in his stomach open up wider, threatening to swallow him whole, as he watched his oldest friend sink to her knees, sobbing brokenly.

For a few long seconds, there was nothing but the sound of Twilight's weeping and the crackling of the fire. Then the alicorn shut her eyes and took a few deep, steadying breaths, rising slowly to her hooves once again.

"You-" she panted, eyes still closed. "You would dare say that to me, now?"

Discord grimaced, but remained unmoving, still as a statue. He didn't even answer. He just watched Twilight as she turned towards him again.

When she opened her eyes, there was a steely glint in them that there hadn't been before. "How dare you," she spat. "How dare you! I am done putting up with your insults and tricks, Discord! I let you stay in this castle because Princess Celestia asked me to tolerate you, and all you have ever done to repay her hospitality is cause havoc and insult everything that she ever stood for. And now that she's dead, now that she died defending me, you insult everything she ever taught me, and act as though you're doing me a favor."

She stamped one hoof, and her horn began to shine with violet light. "No," she hissed. "No more. Goodbye, Discord. I am done with you."

There was a flare of brilliant luminescence that filled the entire hall. When it faded, the images were gone, leaving Spike staring at an empty expanse of stone and feeling as though none of the physical pain he was experiencing could possibly be worse than the stabbing agony in his mind.

22: What Broke Them

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No one spoke for what felt like an eternity after that. No one even moved.

Then, slowly, Compass became aware of a low grating sound, like two pieces of jagged metal being scraped together. The mass of scales that she had been half-hiding behind began to move. Spike was attempting to haul himself to his feet.

It wasn't a simple thing. One of his wings was still pinned beneath his torso, and the other shifted in a way that had to be excruciating. She couldn't tell the extent of his injuries - his scales were too thick for that - but she knew that there had to be at least a few broken bones. He tried to stand anyway.

"Spike, no," she said, reaching out to set one hoof against his arm. "Don't. You'll just hurt yourself."

The dragon ignored her. Its one good eye was fixed on Discord, and there was a smoldering, volcanic light in it that told her he wasn't listening.

"Why?" His voice was a molten rumble of rising anger. "Why would you say that to her?"

Discord watched as Spike struggled to right himself and frowned. "Really?" It wasn't really a question. "You don't understand? I said it because it's true. You know that better than anypony, Spikey-Wikey." There was a slight barb to the last two words, but it was followed by a heavy sigh and a snap of mismatched fingers. "Allow me."

Compass felt the space in front of her fold in upon itself for a moment, and then Spike was standing upright. It wasn't a particularly stable upright - his right foreleg was held off the stone gingerly, and the rest shook visibly with every second - but it was upright nonetheless. His wings hung useless on either side of his body. She could see that the broken one was twisted into what had to be an even more painful position now, but Spike ignored them.

He heaved himself forward awkwardly, trying to leap at Discord. He didn't even make it halfway before gravity caught him and pulled him back down to the floor, but the roar he let out while making the attempt was still enough to shake the rafters.

Discord merely sighed and snapped his fingers again, leaving Spike suspended in mid-fall. "Really?" he said again. "Is that what this has come to? Talk about shooting the messenger. Or baking them alive, as the case might be."

He slid out of his chair, which vanished behind him with a quiet pop, taking his bathrobe and glass with it. Then he folded his arms over his chest again and gave Spike an exasperated look, apparently unperturbed by the dragon's writhing and continued death glares.

"Come now, Spike," he said, sounding mildly annoyed. "If our relationship was going to come to blows, it would have done so a long time ago. And besides, it's not as though you can actually hurt me. This is why it was so important to tell her that. You ponies are all so predictable, even when you're dragons. You see something that hurts you and your first response is to try and hurt it back, no matter how valid its point. Even Fluttershy had her moments."

He turned his back and flicked his serpentine tail, and the space around Spike twisted again. When it cleared, the dragon was back to his normal size, with both of his wings tightly bandaged and bound to his back. The set looked surprisingly professional. "But I have never been one to hold a grudge," Discord continued lightly. "Except for all those times that I did. But that's beside the point."

The field of magic around Spike dissipated, and the dragon dropped heavily to the stone floor with a grunt of pain. He lay there for a moment, panting and glaring at the back of Discord's head, then said, "Then what is your point? Why would you hurt her like that?"

"Aside from the fact that it's true, you mean?" Discord gave Spike a disapproving look over his shoulder. "Because your precious princesses never learning that lesson for themselves is the reason things are the way they are. I had hoped that Miss Faithful Student might be intelligent enough to figure out the consequences of not accepting that. If she had, this whole mess could have been avoided."

Compass saw Spike trying to force himself upright again and moved forward to set her hoof on his shoulder. "Don't," she said quietly. "Lie still. You're hurt."

The dragon twisted his head around sharply to look at her, and she flinched involuntarily. He was still glaring, and the raw anger in his eye was enough to make her blood run cold. But she didn't look away, and, slowly, Spike's expression began to soften.

He took a few deep breaths, then looked back to Discord. "Fine," he said. "Fine. You say that your lesson was important. Why? How was hurting her like that supposed to help her? What happened while you were locked up in there? Where is Twilight?"

"Oh, so you're willing to listen now." Discord spun on one leg and spread his arms wide, grinning again. "Wonderful. I had so hoped that you would see unreason eventually. But the easiest way to get you to understand is to show you."

There was another flare of pain from Compass' horn as Discord warped causality around himself once again. When it faded, he was standing in front of a large white canvas that was suspended in midair. A few feet away was a small double-reel film projector.

Discord flicked it on with one claw. "Now, I wasn't there for quite a bit of this," he said, waving his stubby arm, "but what sort of lord of chaos would I be if I let something like the space-time continuum get in my way?"

"Just get on with it, Discord," growled Spike.

"Now, now, hold your small horses," said the chimera, waving a finger. "It has to warm up first. It's an antique, you know. Peeping through time doesn't come quickly."

As he said it, a flickering, unsteady beam of light began to shine from the projector and onto the makeshift screen. Discord gave a satisfied "ah" and, quite suddenly, was sitting in a lounge chair with a bucket of popcorn in his claws. "Here we are," he said brightly. "This is one of my favorites."

And the film began to play.


A unicorn with a coat so deeply blue that it was almost purple sat atop a grassy hill. Overhead, the stars shone brightly, reflected in her eyes.

For a long time, she simply watched them, looking up at the moon. Then there was the soft sound of approaching hoofsteps on the grass, and she looked around.

"Luna." The white alicorn approaching her gave a soft, somewhat hesitant smile. "I was hoping I would find you here."

Luna said nothing. She simply watched in silence. After a while, the alicorn sighed and lowered herself onto the ground beside her.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said. Neither of them made eye contact. Instead, they both turned their gazes upward, to the stars. "About my decision."

The unicorn frowned. "I do not want any more apologies, Celestia. You have said enough of them already. None of them change the fact that you did this to yourself without even speaking to me beforehand."

Celestia's wings spread. They didn't go far; the motion seemed to be automatic rather than a conscious effort on her part. She still didn't lower her eyes from the sky. "I know," she said. "I'm not here to apologize again. I already told you why I chose this. Why it's necessary. I came to ask you something."

Luna sighed quietly, then, finally, turned to look at her sister. Celestia was taller now, more graceful, and her mane flowed with a magic all its own. She hardly resembled the unicorn that Luna had grown up loving.

"What?"

Celestia frowned, and, with a soft rustle of feathers, settled her wings in against her sides once again. "I wanted to ask if you would join me."

Luna stared.

The alicorn plunged on quickly, as if she were afraid that her younger sister would cut her off and storm away if she didn't get it all out at once. "I found a way to cast the transformation spell on you," she said. "You know how important this is. If nopony stops him, things will only get worse. And all the damage he's done already... we can fix it, Luna. We can do something that really matters. Together."

She looked away again and shook her head. "I don't want to do it alone," she finished quietly. "Not without my sister."

A moment later, Luna's forelegs were around her neck, and the unicorn was sobbing against her coat. Celestia blinked, looking astonished, then lifted her free leg to return the hug.

"I-I thought you want to leave me," Luna whispered through her tears. "When you d-didn't tell me what you were planning..."

"I never wanted to leave you," Celestia answered softly. "Never." She spread her wings and folded them around her sister, pulling her in close. "I didn't know if I would ever be able to find a way to cast the spell on somepony else. If I had told you that, you would have asked me to stop." She shut her eyes. "And I would have said yes. I love you, little sister."

"Then why?" Luna pulled her head back and frowned up at her sister, eyes still swimming with tears. "Why did you do it if you thought you would have to leave me?"

Celestia shut her eyes again. "Because the world needs somepony to protect it," she said. "And even if it hurts me to do it, even if it means leaving you behind, I cannot ignore that."

For a while, the two of them sat in silence. Then Luna nodded, slowly.

"I understand," she said. "I was just frightened that my sister had forgotten that I need her as much as everypony else does."

Celestia smiled. "Never. You are my sister, Luna. I will never stop loving you."

At that, the unicorn broke into an uncontrollable, childlike grin. "And I love you, sister," she said. "So long as you need me, I will be there."

The two of them looked back up to the night sky. "Together," Luna murmured, "we will do something that really matters."


Now it was day, and a light-blue unicorn with a white mane was seated on a small bench. Around her, exquisitely-kept topiary bushes in the shapes of various animals mingled with ornate birdhouses and marble fountains. In the distance, she could make out the glittering spires of Castle Canterlot.

The grandeur made her nervous. She felt out of place here. Her mane was frizzy and uncooperative nowadays, and her once-beautiful velvet cape was tattered and threadbare. She hadn't even considered wearing the hat.

"Trixie Lulamoon?" said a voice behind her.

Trixie jumped off the bench. When she turned and saw who it was that had spoken to her, she sank into a deep bow. "Y-your Highness," she stammered. "It's an honor."

Princess Luna sighed, but she was smiling, at least. She waved a hoof. "Please, stand," she said. "There is no need for such formalities. I did not call you here to speak as a princess."

Trixie picked herself up off the grass and dusted a few stray bits of dirt off of her hooves, then raised her head. She still looked nervous, but now there was curiosity in her gaze, as well. "Then why did you call me here, Your Highness?" she asked. "I'll be honest. I was expecting an extremely overdue lecture on that whole amulet thing."

Luna laughed quietly. "Well, that is, in a way, what I called you here for," she admitted. "But I have no intention of lecturing you." She stepped over to the bench that Trixie had so recently vacated, sat, and continued, "I simply want to talk, as one pony to another. And please, call me Luna."

The unicorn blinked, now looking entirely lost. "Er. If you say so, Your- Luna." She shifted uncomfortably on the spot, obviously unsure of what to say next. Eventually, she asked, "So what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Your dreams." Luna wasn't looking at her. The alicorn was staring off towards a particularly ornate topiary bush. It depicted a swarm of parasprites following a frizzy-maned earth pony. How the gardener had sculpted each of the dozen individual instruments into the bush, no one would ever know.

"My dreams?" Trixie blinked again. "What about them?"

Luna smiled gently again. "As Princess of the Night, it is my duty to watch over the dreams of all my subjects," she said, turning to face her visitor. "And yours have... interested me."

The magician swallowed hard, trying to keep the slight panic out of her voice as she asked, "Why?"

"Because," Luna said slowly, "they are very similar to my own."

Trixie gaped at her.

Luna just smiled again. "I know what it is like to spend every night alone," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "I know what it is like to be treated as somepony to be feared, tolerated due to another's mandate rather than actual friendship. And I know what it is like to live a life constantly overshadowed by another."

She stepped off the bench and took a few steps towards the unicorn. Trixie noted with some surprise that the princess seemed almost as nervous as she was.

"So I called you here to see if..." Luna frowned, took a deep breath, then finished, "If you were interested in being friends."

For a few seconds, Trixie just stared at her. Then she grinned.

"Friends? With a princess?" She nodded. "I think I'd be okay with that."

As if on cue, they both started to laugh. It was as much out of sheer embarrassment as it was of anything else, but they laughed nonetheless.

"So... 'constantly overshadowed', huh?" Trixie said, after a while. "I didn't know you felt that way about your sister."

Luna shrugged. "I love her dearly," she said, a note of sadness entering her voice. "But yes. It is true. But she is not the only pony whose life constantly overshadows my own."

The two of them set off into the gardens, walking side-by-side among the topiary bushes. Almost all of the prior awkwardness had vanished as Trixie said, "Really? Huh. I kind of thought being Princess of the Night would be a pretty nice thing."

"It is not all perfect," Luna admitted. She gave Trixie a crooked smile. "You are not the only one who sometimes feels jealous of Twilight Sparkle."

"Ha! Yeah." Trixie huffed slightly, blowing an errant strand of mane out of her eyes. "I mean, I don't plan on repeating the amulet thing any time soon, but it does suck reading all the news about her. Did you hear about last month, when she..."


Castle Canterlot was dark now. Luna stood on the balcony of her tower, looking up at the stars.

Normally, the sight of her handiwork filled her with pride. Tonight, though, the ponies in the streets below were still clearing away the remains of the funereal procession, and the memory of Spike's expression as he left for Ponyville was still fresh in her mind. She had arranged a handful of stars into a new constellation, shaped like a trio of diamonds, in memory of the mare they had buried scant hours before.

All she felt as she looked up at them was emptiness.

There was the sound of soft wing beats, and Celestia rose into view. The elder alicorn looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Luna knew that her sister had been fighting back tears just as hard as anyone else all throughout the ceremony.

"I can't sleep."

"I know." Luna looked back up to the stars, expression blank. "I expect that Cadence has also elected to refrain from rest for the night. She and her husband looked quite downcast when I last saw them. I expect that they will be spending the night in one another's embrace."

"Yes." Celestia lowered herself to the stone floor of the balcony, crossed her forelegs, and let out a long breath. "I don't think that anypony is going to sleep well tonight. Perhaps not for a long time."

Luna still didn't look down. Below, there were the soft sounds of Canterlot at night. A few late taxis made their way through the streets. Doors opened and shut. Occasionally there was something louder, but nothing that she hadn't heard before. Luna had stood guard over the night for centuries, and the sound of her city asleep was almost soothing to her during her vigil.

Tonight, though, it seemed wrong. The sheer normalcy of it was an affront to the enormity of what had happened. The world itself should have been in mourning.

"I do not look forward to visiting Spike's dreams," she murmured, almost to herself. "He was not ready for this."

Beside her, Celestia sighed and put her head down. "He would have lost her eventually," she said quietly. "We all knew it would happen. She was a unicorn, and he is a dragon. He'll lose all of them, eventually."

"Except Twilight," said Luna. Her voice came out a bit sharper than she had wanted it to. Celestia didn't seem to notice.

"Yes. Except Twilight."

The calmness of that voice, the pure gentleness of it, stirred something in Luna. It wasn't a pleasant something. She flinched at the familiar sensation and attempted to force the memories back down. Anger, fear, sorrow, jealousy; these were the enemy.

Worse, they were part of her.

She forced her tone to remain quiet and level as she asked, "Is that why you cast the spell on her? To spare him?"

Celestia gave her a confused look. "No. I made Twilight the way she is because we need her."

Despite herself, all Luna could think was that we should have been I.

Once again, silence reigned. Overhead, a few of the Lunar Guard flitted across the moon.

"What if we needed somepony else?" she asked, after a while.

Celestia shut her eyes. "Luna..."

"No, sister. Listen to me." The princess of the night finally tore her gaze away from the sky overhead and looked down at her elder, frowning heavily. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her voice was steady, and she stood straight and tall. "You know of whom I speak. You know what I would ask for them. And you know why I ask it. But twice now, you have denied me."

She lifted a hoof and pointed to the diamonds in the sky. "If you do not do this," she said, "then one night, I will be forced to stand here and place her symbol in the stars. Perhaps that does not mean much to you, but I do not know if I can stomach that, sister. I have precious few friends among the ponies of Equestria, and I do not care to bury another of them as we have Rarity."

Celestia sighed again. Her eyes were still shut, her face tight and strained. Then, slowly, she stood.

"The answer is no, Luna," she said flatly. "It has been every other time you've asked, and it always will be."

"Why?" Luna hated to hear herself begging, but she couldn't stop it.

"Because," said Celestia, her voice becoming sharper as her eyes opened, "Trixie Lulamoon, for all that I believe she is a good friend to you, is not like Twilight Sparkle. She is self-centered, arrogant, manipulative, and dangerous. She has proven to be a danger to the citizens of Equestria in the past, and I do not trust her not to repeat such actions if given access to power like that."

Luna felt her muscles tense involuntarily, felt her body trying to curl in on itself like a filly attempting to escape the stern gaze of the schoolmaster. She lowered her gaze to the floor of the balcony and felt the tears slip down her cheeks.

Celestia sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was gentler now. It cut all the deeper for it. "But we both knew the price when we set out on this path. That's why I asked you to come with me, Luna. I need someone that can stand by my side. I wanted it to be you."

There was a rustle of air as the elder alicorn stepped forward to embrace her. Luna shrank back, biting her lower lip and keeping her eyes downcast.

Celestia stood there for a moment, wings outstretched in the act of folding around her younger sister, then sighed and stepped back. "I'm sorry," she said again. "It isn't easy, I know. But... try to understand. Twilight was a special case."

There was no answer.

"I love you, Luna."

Her tears were dripping off her muzzle now, falling to the stone below. She couldn't bring herself to answer. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of wings fading into the distance, and knew she was alone once more.

In the darkness, illuminated only by the wan half-light of the stars overhead, Princess Luna raised her eyes to the diamonds she had placed in the sky and wept.


Celestia gradually became aware that there was somepony else in her bed.

Since assuming the mantle of Sun Princess, she had never found herself in need of a clock. Her innate magic told her that it was still well within Luna's time to be in charge of Equestria. That meant nopony could enter her bedroom while she rested.

She groaned. Without even rolling over or opening her eyes, she snapped, "What do you want, Discord?"

There was the sound of a page turning. Discord obviously had a book with him. That would also explain the fact that somepony had turned on her bedside table lamp. Even through her closed eyelids, she could see the yellow light that flickered from it.

"Hm?"

Oh, yes. Discord's voice. Nopony else could make a single syllable so infuriating. Celestia ground her teeth together, then said, rather more loudly, "What do you want?"

"Oh, of course. My apologies. I really should have explained myself before imposing." The draconequus shifted on the mattress, and Celestia felt the blankets being tugged away slightly. He was under the covers, less than two feet away, if she wasn't mistaken. The fact that his voice came from a slightly greater elevation than her own meant that he was sitting up, too.

She waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Eventually, she sighed, opened her eyes, and glared up at him. "I thought I told you to stay out of my bedroom unless invited," she grated.

Discord was, indeed, sitting next to her. He was wearing a pink nightcap with an equally-pink fluffy pom-pom in addition to his usual expression of self-satisfaction, and was holding a book entitled Murder On The Friendship Express.

"What?" he said, putting on a look of mock surprise. "You mean 'come see me any time' doesn't count as an open invitation? Well." He snorted, snapped his book shut, and frowned. "You do have my deepest apologies."

Celestia groaned again and draped one foreleg over her eyes. "I am trying to sleep," she muttered. "I know you want something. What is it?"

"Other than to spend time with you? Not much." Discord reached out and patted her shoulder with his lion paw. "I thought a bit of bonding time might do us both some good. Besides, I'd rather not have your sister rooting around in my dreams just about now."

The paw was still on her shoulder. She debated telling him to remove it, but decided that she would rather not deal with the half-hour sidetrack to the conversation that was sure to result in. Instead, she asked, "Bad dreams?"

"No, not at all," Discord said brightly. "In fact, they've been quite pleasant lately. Pinkie Pie features prominently, and upon having said that, I wish that I hadn't. Rather embarrassing."

Another groan. "Please don't tell me you're saying what I think you are."

"Oh, I know, it's awful." Discord sighed. "Sometimes, though, the alliteration just doesn't come."

There it was - the familiar sensation that her brain was dribbling out of her ears. And this was supposed to be her resting period.

"Just tell me why you're here, Discord," she grumbled. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"Well, honestly, I'm surprised you haven't taken to napping at other times as well," the chimera said. "I mean, letting her watch your dreams? It doesn't feel entirely safe at the moment."

Celestia lowered her foreleg and set her glare back into place. "What are you saying?"

Discord raised both of his mismatched arms, looking far too innocent. "Oh, well, you must admit that your sister has not been particularly sociable lately. How long has it been since she did anything other than sit up in her tower and stare at the sky? I'm just not comfortable having such a socially isolated pony potentially attempting to psychoanalyze my dreams."

"Luna is under a lot of stress," said Celestia flatly. "We all are. Running Equestria is not easy, Discord."

"I never said it was," answered the monster, lowering his arms again. "But then, you have somepony to confide in. Other than myself, I mean. Who does she have?"

Celestia narrowed her eyes. "My sister has me," she snapped. "She always has me. She knows that."

"Of course. Of course." Discord nodded. "Silly of me, really, to think otherwise. After all-" he broke into a wide, wicked grin "-we all know that you two have never so much as squabbled in the past. The perfect sibling relationship."

Slowly, Celestia lifted herself up on her forelegs, her glare growing even more intense as she brought her eyes up level with his. When she spoke, all the icy, detached disdain that she had learned from centuries of politics was brought to bear in two simple syllables.

"Get out."

"As you wish, m'lady." And, with a twist of space that made her eyes water, he was gone.

23: Ragnarøkkr

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The sky above Equestria was filled with starlight. Countless pinpricks shone in the blackness like brilliant opals. They hung over Canterlot like a shroud of jewels, stitched with countless designs: here a star-tipped wand, there a spool of thread, a musical clef over the rightmost tower of the castle, a trio of diamonds just above.

Despite the implications, Discord couldn't help but pause to admire the artistry involved. Thousands upon thousands of constellations spun and danced through the night overhead. As he watched, a new group of stars, these ones depicting a shield with wings like a bat's, winked into existence below the trio of diamonds.

And, in the center of it all, bathing all of Equestria in a milky-white glow, was the shining crescent of the moon.

He shook himself and hurried on.

The castle had been sealed, of course, but simple things like the laws of reality had never gotten in his way before. Most magic just rolled off of his hide like water off... well, water off of anything he wanted water to roll off of. The protection spell on the castle was strong, but not unbreakable, and it wasn't targeted at him anyway. He moved past it without even really thinking about it.

There were a few bodies in the entrance hall. Fewer than he had expected, all things considered. Most of them were guards. Perhaps they had managed to evacuate the non-military personnel before it was too late. Not that it really mattered; there was another spell around the city itself. No one got in or out until somepony managed to get through that - and, during a Canterlot night, the thing they were running from was as close to omnipresent as it was possible to be.

He stepped neatly over a bat-winged Lunar Guard stallion who had fallen in such a way as to block the staircase, noting with mild interest the shield-shaped cutie mark on the corpse's flank. The victim had been just another rank-and-file guardspony, if his armor was anything to go by. Not that it had made any difference in the end. The Captain of the Guard lay just as still a few yards away.

The mare he was looking for was waiting in the throne room. He knew that she was waiting because she lifted her head the moment he entered, despite the fact that he had not used the door. Or any other mundane entrance, for that matter.

Nightmare Moon's lips curled into a smile. "Discord," she said jovially. "We were wondering when you would arrive."

The chimera peeled himself off of one of the tapestries, where he had been masquerading as Fluttershy in the act of feeding a particularly insufferable-looking white rabbit. A moment later, he looked more like his usual self, but in a rather flatter state.

"Luna." He returned the grin and the pleasant tone, apparently without any sign of sarcasm. "Back to whole Royal Voice routine, I notice. Does this mean you'll need two chairs at the table now?"

The night-black alicorn just shook her head. She didn't make any movement towards stepping out of the throne she currently occupied. It had been Celestia's throne. Her own, rather smaller, dedicated seat was nothing but a heap of rubble and ashes now.

"We have re-adopted our speech patterns in recognition of the weight of today's events, Discord," she said. She was still smiling. "Tonight is a night of mourning for all of Equestia, after all. We must set an example to our subjects. Formality must be observed."

He recognized that expression. The smile was still present, yes, but there was nothing behind it.

He still managed to hold her gaze without any slip in his own expression, of course, and he kept his bright tone as he asked, "So how far are you planning on taking this, then?"

She spread her wings. The darkness seemed to deepen around her.

"All the way, Discord. We are finishing this tonight. We have been delayed for over a millenium. We will wait no longer."

He pursed his lips and tapped on his chin with one finger, looking thoughtful. "I did notice that the moon looked a bit larger than it usually does," he said, with the air of one trying to remember a trivial detail from a conversation by the water cooler that morning. He cocked an eyebrow towards her. "Been putting on a bit of weight lately?"

She snorted and folded her wings again. Around them, at the edges of vision, the shadows seemed to come alive. Strange, unnatural shapes danced in the dark.

"We do not care to be mocked during the moment of our triumph," she said, her voice losing its friendliness. In its place came the same icy, dangerous hollowness of her smile. "You would do well to realize our power."

"Mock? Me? Never." Discord huffed and turned away, his face a perfect mask of injured innocence. "I was asking entirely out of concern for your health. I have noticed some changes in you lately, you know. You don't eat with the rest of the nobility, you don't speak to anyone, you've turned ominously black and gained unfathomable power... It's enough to make me wonder if you might be catching something."

Now she sneered at him, openly disdainful. "More jokes, worm? Is this what you look like when accepting your fate, or is this just your addled mind producing meaningless babble out of sheer terror?" Her eyes flashed. "Or perhaps you still think that you can face me."

Discord laughed. "Fate? Now you're the one trying to provoke me, Princess." He wagged one stubby finger at her. "I am chaos incarnate. Fate looks at me and gets all cross-eyed." A pause. "Just like everypony else, really."

Luna's eyes narrowed. "Then you do think that you can face us. We had not taken you for a fool."

Another laugh, and this one was genuine. It went on for a long time, and had him doubled over and clutching at his knees for support by the time it was through. Eventually, he straightened up and wiped a few tears out of his eyes before breaking into a wide grin.

"Oh, please," he said. "Luna. I am nothing if not a fool."

Nightmare Moon drew herself up and glared at him down the length of her muzzle. Her horn began to swirl with arcane power. It was like watching the opposite of a light switching on. She seemed to draw in light rather than emit it - and any that touched her was utterly consumed.

"Then try," she snarled. "We have tolerated your existence this long because you have not taken action against us, but make no mistake - you are strong, but we are your equal. And here-" she spread her wings still further, and the throne room sank into near-complete blackness "-we are in our element."

Discord sighed. "I would," he said, a wistful note entering his voice. "I really, really would. But, you see, I've never been much of a fan of violence. Chaos, yes. Killing, no. Even I have standards, you see. Besides, this seems like more of a family matter."

He snapped his fingers, and the stone of the castle groaned as it opened up above him, exposing a tunnel to the night sky. "And anyway, you've made a complete mess of things up there," he added. "Moons flying every which way. Somepony could get hurt."

She stared. Slowly, the magic swirling around her horn began to fade.

Another snap, and suddenly he was wearing the black apron of a housemaid, complete with a feather duster clutched in his lion's paw. "Tia will throw a fit if this mess is still around when she gets back," he said brightly. "I suppose I shall have to take it upon myself to clean up after you. Do try not to make any more messes about the castle whilst I am away!" He gave her a cheery wave. "Ta-ta!"

There was the sensation of space folding in on itself, and he vanished. The hole that he had left in the ceiling began to close as Nightmare Moon stared up at it.

After a while, she snorted and lowered her gaze.

The night blanketed Equestria, and she was the night. With her expanded senses, she reached out and into the city. There were ponies at every gate out of Canterlot, trying to fight their way past her spell. She could see the panicked flares of their minds as clearly as any light. Casually, as if the action was no more important to her than swatting an insect, she began to snuff them out.


In the skies above Equestria, Discord soared upward, as fast as thought. Ahead of him, the shining crescent of the moon grew larger by the moment.

"Dizzy, you can't just leave them."

He grit his teeth. No matter how often he told himself that it was just his own fractured mind producing it, Fluttershy's voice always cut through him like a knife. He kept his eyes focused directly ahead, on the approaching moon. He didn't dare look to the side. He knew that he would see her there if he did, and he couldn't afford the distraction.

For once in his eternal existence, every drop of Discord's limited reserves of concentration was focused on the task at hand.

"Ponies are dying. You can save them. Didn't you learn anything from me?"

Despite himself, fighting the words every step of the way, he hissed, "Of course I did."

"Then why are you leaving them? Why are you leaving her? She needs you as much as they do. You can still help her."

"Nopony can help her." The moon filled almost a full quarter of his vision now. He could make out its impossible bulk against the blackness of the space beyond. The atmosphere around him was growing thinner with each passing moment. "And she doesn't want to be helped."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

"I can't be there and stop this at the same time."

"If you just reached out to her-"

"No," he said sharply. "Some things can't be healed. And even if they could, I'm not the one to do it."

She was saying something else, now. He ignored her. Below, Nightmare Moon was toying with the handful of ponies who were still trapped within Canterlot, but she was only awaiting the final act. The real threat was there, above, hanging over the landscape like the blade of a celestial guillotine.

He stopped. Behind him, he knew, the planet was hanging in space, a jewel even more beautiful than the stars on all sides. He didn't bother to look. He had seen it before. What was important was the moon.

It was still growing visibly larger, though he had stopped moving towards it. Part of him marveled at the sheer amount of raw magical power that would have been required to pull it so far out of its natural place, and at such speed. In her desperation, Luna had found reserves of strength that he wasn't certain even he could match.

He tried anyway.

If this had been any other task, he would have tried for something flashy. Carving the moon into a likeness of his own grinning mug was a good start. Perhaps he would have added a hat of some sort, to complete the effect. But this wasn't an easy thing to do, even for one as powerful as the Lord of Chaos. He didn't dare to expend any of his reserves on comedy.

The only outward sign of the titanic forces being mustered was the fact that any light passing between Discord and the moon was twisted and warped. The twinkling stars became dizzying blazes of every color in the rainbow, refracting upon themselves over and over until they were finally expelled from the vortex of warped space. A thousand, nearly invisible threads of light spread out over the skies of Equestria, the only sign of the battle taking place.

Discord felt no physical strain. Unicorns focused their magic through their horns, and thus, their power was limited by how much raw energy their horn could channel. He, on the other hand, had no physical form in any real sense. Oh, he had a body, but Discord himself was as close to being raw magic as anything could ever be. His chimeric form was just the way that magic made itself known in the crude three dimensions that most ponies spent their lives in. The only limit to his power was how much of himself he was willing to expend.

Ahead of him, the moon was slowing, but it was still moving forward. It was still going to strike Equestria. Meanwhile, he was at his absolute limit. Any more, and he would never fully recover. It might even destroy him.

In his mind's eye, he saw Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy watching him across the gulf of years.

He kept pushing.


The sensation of her protection spells breaking was only a minor twinge in the back of Nightmare Moon's mind. It hardly registered now. They were paltry things compared to the magic that she was capable of now. Even as she turned her attention towards the approaching magical signatures of her fellow princesses, she reached out and ripped a handful of other minds out of existence. Above, another set of constellations winked into being.

She opened her eyes and smiled once again.

Celestia was standing on the other end of the throne room, breathing hard. The white alicorn had tears in her eyes, and her body shook from mingled sorrow, fear, and anger, but when she spoke, it was with the same calm determination that Luna had come to despise.

"Sister, you must stop this."

Nightmare Moon heaved a theatrical sigh. "Really?" she said, her voice dripping spite from each syllable. "We have already come this far, and you believe that we can be talked down?"

"You are still my sister," Celestia said, taking a step forward. "You are still Luna. We can still-"

"Fix this?" Nightmare Moon smiled a bit wider and stepped off of the throne. "Fix us, you mean? No. You cannot wield the Elements of Harmony any longer, sister dear. Even your precious Twilight Sparkle, the student you groomed for decades, cannot do that. The Elements have moved on. They have selected other bearers, and they are not here. Even if they were, they could not stop me now. Some things never heal."

She spread her wings, and again the darkness flared around them, leaving Celestia as a beacon amidst impenetrable night on all sides. For a moment, her own eyes were visible, but then they sank into the gloom, leaving the elder sister to stare wildly about, searching for any sign of her opponent.

Nightmare Moon's voice didn't fade. It seemed to whisper in from all sides, as if the dark itself were speaking. "Besides," she purred, "even if you could 'save' me, even if you could force all of this down once more, it wouldn't change things. Before, they feared me for a thousand years for a few moment's battle with you. Now, I have slaughtered them by the dozen. By the score, sister. The streets of Canterlot run red beneath my stars. They are still dying, and you cannot bring them back. Even your precious student, for all her magic, cannot protect them all. No matter how hard she tries."

Celestia spun on the spot. Her horn was shining now, as bright as the sun, but the beam of light she conjured still barely made it a yard into the shadows before being swallowed up. "Why, Luna?" She was sobbing openly now, but her voice was still steady. "Why would you do this to them? They did nothing to you! If I hurt you, then take me! They are innocent!"

"Some of them are," came the answer. "Others... no. I know the dreams of every pony in Equestria, sister. I know them all. Every one of them, I know as well as I know myself. I see the innocent and the monsters alike, and I do not discriminate. In less than an hour, they will all be dead."

There was a surge of light as Celestia fired a beam of concentrated magic into the smog. There was no real target. It was a desperate act, taken because she saw no other real option. All it accomplished was that the night opened up for just a moment, let her attack pass through, and closed in once more.

There was a laugh. It was high and cruel, and echoed around the throne room for several seconds. "You could not stop it now even if you could strike me, sister," said the voice from the darkness. "I have called the moon. All of Equestria ends tonight."

Celestia's blood ran cold. This time, she couldn't keep her voice from breaking. "So that's it?" she screamed. "You would kill all of them, just because of some perceived injury from me?"

"Idiot." The word whistled out of the darkness like a javelin, and a thick tendril of the inky blackness whipped out at the same moment, striking Celestia's right wing. It burned like ice. "The great Princess Celestia, wisest and most beloved pony in Equestria," the voice continued. Now it was mocking her, every word dripping with bitter anger that had long since turned to poison. "You always knew how best to handle everything. You always ruled with such kindness. Where was your renowned empathy, sister, when it could have helped me?"

Another lash, and Celestia's right hind leg buckled as everything below her first joint went numb. She collapsed to the stone and cried out, but Nightmare Moon's voice continued.

"For all your pretty words, for all your grace and poise, you never understood me," she hissed. "Never. You wanted somepony to stand at your side and bear the weight of years with you. You wanted it to be me."

The night swirled around her, and for a moment, Celestia was certain that she was about to die, but the attack never came. Instead, the darkness split and pulled apart, revealing Nightmare Moon seated upon the throne once again, glaring icily at her.

"You wanted it to be me," she said again. "I needed it to be you."

Celestia tried to raise herself to her hooves again, but her leg was still uncontrollable, and her wing hung limply at her side. She was forced to lie there and stare, panting.

"You told me that you would always be there for me," the black alicorn said coldly. "But that was a lie. You never saw my pain until it was too late to heal. You told me that nopony would ever replace me, but that was a lie. You found Twilight Sparkle, and she became closer to you than I could ever hope to be. You told me that we would rule Equestria side-by-side, but that was a lie. You were loved and showered in adoration, while I was cast aside and unwanted."

Her wings flared out, and again the darkness crept in, but this time it left enough light that Celestia could just make out her sister's silhouette.

"I hated you for it," she whispered. "Oh, how I hated you. I hated you, my sister, and because of it, I grew to hate myself even more. But even that does not begin to encompass all of this. Because, you see, I did hate you."

She stepped off the throne once again, wings still outspread, and began to walk towards Celestia. "But that was not the worst of the lies," she said, apparently addressing the air in general now. She wasn't looking at her sister. "The worst of them was telling me that we could do something that mattered. Do you know what I have discovered, in all the years that have passed?"

Celestia raised her head. "Luna, please..."

"None of it mattered!" The shout echoed around the cavernous hall. Nightmare Moon stamped hard on the stone with one hoof, splintering it beneath her metal armor. "All those ponies that we built Equestria for, all of those that I took on this burden to save, are dead and buried. So are their grandchildren, and their grandchildren's grandchildren, and on and on for more than a thousand years. They. Did not. Matter."

She tossed her head, raving now, not screaming at Celestia but at the universe in general. "They lived out their lives, and I lived alongside them. I knew them, each and every one, better than they knew themselves. I was as close to them as I could possibly have been, and I loved them, Celestia. But each of them was only a handful of years, and I am eternal. I watched them all die. Now, nopony even remembers that they existed. The ponies living outside this castle? In a hundred years, they will all be forgotten. None of them matters."

"So your solution," Celestia whispered quietly, "is to kill them all?"

"What difference does it make?" snapped Nightmare Moon. Her head swung around to glare down at Celestia once more. "They will all die eventually. Every one of them will be forgotten. This way, I at least end them on my terms."

She turned away and began to walk towards the throne again. "As I said, Celestia," she continued, her voice becoming calmer and more even, "I hated you. I do not hate you any longer. Now, I simply do not care."

Once again, Nightmare Moon settled onto the throne and smiled.

Celestia lay on the floor, fighting to control any part of her body. She could feel the emotions rising up within her, flooding her mind with anger, sorrow, fear, and a dozen other sensations in great waves. Her mind was trying to wrestle away from her, to succumb to despair. She would not let it.

After a few seconds, she managed to get herself upright using only her three good legs, but she kept her eyes downcast as she said, "You'll die, too."

"And?"

Celestia shut her eyes. There was too much behind that one syllable for her to be able to come up with a proper response. No, not too much. Too little. She could hear the emptiness behind the veneer of anger.

Slowly, she raised her head and set her jaw. "Then there really is only one end to this," she said quietly.

"At last," said Nightmare Moon, as the dark closed in once more, "we understand one another."


The streets of Canterlot were dark, too dark to be natural, and odd shapes danced at the edge of Twilight Sparkle's vision. Combined with the fog of mingled panic and exhaustion that filled her mind, she could barely make out anything of the city around her.

She was vaguely conscious that there were bodies everywhere, but she blocked them from her consciousness. Ignore them. They could not be helped. Focus on the living. Throw your senses out like a net, trawl the city streets for signs of magical flare-ups. Find the ones who could still be saved.

Her horn flashed again, and she found herself by one of the city's outer walls. All of the ponies she had helped were beginning to run together. It was getting difficult to tell any of them apart. Was this family the same one that she had pulled out of the restaurant on Mane Street a few minutes before? It was hard to tell. The young colt looked similar, at least. The moment's reflection almost caused her to delay too long, and the shadows around the family reared up and lunged forward like claws.

She blasted them apart, ignoring the alternating shouts of appreciation and pleas for instructions, and teleported away again.

The spell that had been keeping anypony from evacuating the city had been broken. The ones she saved had a chance, at least, but she had no time to stay and shepherd them individually. For every potentially victim that she saved from an attack, four more were dragged down. She couldn't stop for a moment. Every second she wasted was another grave filled.

But even she couldn't look away when the walls of Castle Canterlot exploded outward in a flare of light. The princess of magic gaped openly at the sky as two figures spiraled through it, climbing rapidly. Even at this distance, they were unmistakeable as Princesses Celestia and Luna - or, at least, Princess Celestia and what had been her sister.

Celestia was visible as an angelic figure, as bright as the sun, surrounded by a halo of light that unleashed volley after volley of piercing sunbeams at her opponent. By contrast, Nightmare Moon was only visible as a spot that no light could illuminate. She blotted out the stars as she moved, and those of Celestia's attacks that came close to her vanished into the cloud of thick smog that she seemed to trail behind her.

The two of them were circling one another, constantly ducking and weaving around the barrage of magical attacks, searching for an opening and fighting for altitude. As Twilight watched, a ray of light finally managed to pierce the veil around Nightmare Moon, and she heard a scream of rage and pain echo over the city. It was followed by a sudden, sharp dimming of the light surrounding Celestia, and the white alicorn dipped sharply for a moment, as if she were going to crash.

As her mentor steadied herself above, Twilight spread her wings and took flight after them. All thought of the shadows in the streets left her mind. Celestia needed her. Nightmare Moon had to be stopped.

The light around Celestia flared again, and the elder sister powered upward, rising like a rocket towards the stars overhead. Nightmare Moon's magic swiped at her, missing by a hair's breadth each time. Twilight found herself letting out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding as her teacher emerged from the cloud of darkness unscathed.

She reached down, searching for the well of magic within her, and found it waiting. She had exerted herself powerfully on the city streets, but in her desperation, she found reserves of energy she didn't know she had. The first blast of magic that she threw at the black alicorn was powerful enough to have torn masonry apart.

At the last moment, Nightmare Moon twisted aside. How she still had enough concentration left to detect and avoid an attack from an entirely new front while simultaneously fighting against Celestia, Twilight never knew.

The counterattack came whistling around before she could be ready for it. She had been so desperate to come to Celestia's aid that she had neglected to watch for assaults on her own person, and the series of blows caught her on the right side. It felt as though she had been doused in acid. The dark was so cold that it burned.

She felt herself lurch to the side, thrown off course by the strike, and begin falling. She flapped harder, focusing on arresting her plummet, and hoped that Nightmare Moon was too focused on Celestia to attack again. Even Twilight couldn't defend herself in free fall. Not when it felt as though her entire body was made of ice.

Until then, the battle had been entirely silent apart from the crackling of magic as it seared the air. There were no words exchanged between the combatants. There was no time. Talking took away concentration that could be focused on attack or defense.

As she finally managed to steady her fall, though, Twilight heard Celestia scream "No!"

There was a flare of light close by. When the purple spots cleared from her vision, Twilight spun in the air to see Celestia hovering between herself and Nightmare Moon. The light around her was weaker now, dangerously so, and her wingbeats came in labored, heaving spurts rather than automatically. She had protected Twilight from the second attack, and she had paid the price for it.

The white alicorn only spared a glance to her student before flying off again. There was no time for anything else, but that look said everything that needed to be said anyway.

This ends here, or not at all.


Twilight had fought before, when Queen Chrysalis had attempted to invade Canterlot all those years ago. She had stood together with her friends and battled against a horde of changelings.

The terror that she had felt then was nothing compared to what she felt during the battle against Nightmare Moon. Down in the streets, with her friends at her side, she had been frightened, but she had also been confident in their ability to overcome any odds so long as they stood together. She had also suspected that the changelings would want them alive if possible.

The enemy that she was facing now did not want her alive. There could be no truce here, and there would be no rescue. There would not be a spell to save her if she failed.

If she failed, there would not be anything that could save Equestria.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, stretching the scant seconds of the battle out to an eternity. She knew that she had only been airborne for a few moments, that every movement she or her fellow fliers made was happening in the blink of an eye, but it felt as if she had been fighting forever. As she spun away from one of the scything tendrils and returned fire with her own magic, it seemed as though she were moving through treacle.

At the same time, things were happening far too fast. Nightmare Moon was quick, impossibly so, and her attacks seemed to emerge from nowhere, as if the darkness itself were her weapon. Twilight pushed her body to its limit, twisting away at the last possible moment and still, somehow, finding time to return fire.

Magic crackled and lashed through the air around the three alicorns, warped by their wills. They were the epicenter of a thunderous storm of magic now, surrounded by a cloud of violet lightning, blinding light, and ice-cold blackness. Nightmare Moon hung in the center of it, immovable and unbreakable, her attacks crashing through the air like tidal waves as she tried to find her targets. Celestia hardly seemed to exist in comparison, a tiny firefly weaving desperately to avoid being swatted from the sky. Her spells seemed feeble, and though they often connected, they were simply absorbed by the night. She seemed so frail beside the hurricane of power that was Nightmare Moon.

Twilight circled the dark alicorn in tandem with Celestia. Concepts like gravity and direction became almost meaningless in the dance. She wasn't sure whether she was flying up or down at any given moment, but she knew it didn't matter. All that mattered was the battle.

She swung around, fired another blast of purple lightning into the darkness. When she heard Nightmare Moon scream in response, she stopped for just a moment.

It was a moment too long. The blow caught her on the underbelly this time, sent her spinning away and made her scream as her bones turned to ice. When she managed to stop herself and look back to the battle, what she saw made her feel that the attack had reached her heart as well.

Her spell had punched a hole in whatever defensive spells Luna was weaving around herself. A spider-web of cracks hung in the air around the point of impact, pulsing with arcane energies. And, speeding towards that opening like an arrow, was Celestia.

The flare of light from the impact blinded Twilight completely, and the force of the blast threw her from the sky.


Nightmare Moon awoke in the streets of Canterlot. She was sprawled awkwardly over one of the stone curbs on a main street. Which it was, she couldn't tell and didn't particularly care. Pain clouded what parts of her mind could still conjure up the energy to wonder about such things.

With some effort, she managed to lift her head and look around. She was surrounded by the results of her work. Even from her low vantage point, she could see the bodies around her. Part of her, the tiny, insignificant piece that still felt anything other than emptiness, wanted to laugh and revel in her triumph.

She didn't. Instead, she stared around, expression blank, and waited until she heard hoofsteps approaching.

Her neck protested as she turned to look at the source of the sound. She couldn't have moved the rest of her body if she wanted to. Her forelegs felt too weak to lift, and there was no sensation from her hind legs at all. Even moving her head, she knew, was more than she could really manage, but she did it anyway. It wasn't as if it mattered.

The one approaching her was Twilight Sparkle. The lavender alicorn was walking slowly, in uneven steps that kept her on the verge of collapse, but she was upright. Behind her, there was an unmoving white shape.

Finally, Twilight drew up to her. Neither of them said anything. Neither of their expressions betrayed any sort of emotion. They simply stared.

Behind Twilight's eyes, Nightmare Moon could see an emptiness as vast as the one in her own.

After a while, she lifted her gaze to the sky overhead. The constellations she had placed there were still present, but the moon was unmistakably receding.

She couldn't quite bring herself to care.

When the violet flash came, bringing with it a night more complete than any she could have created, she welcomed it with open arms.


Now the sun and the moon hung over Equestria. Beneath them, Twilight Sparkle stood on the balcony of Celestia's tower, staring up at the sky.

There were hoofsteps behind her. She didn't bother to turn and look. She knew that there was only one other pony who would enter Castle Canterlot.

"I know what you've been doing," came the quiet, tired voice.

"I knew you'd find it eventually," she answered, still not turning to face the speaker.

"Is this what you think Celestia would have wanted for you?" The hoofsteps came closer, left the staircase and entered the room leading onto the balcony. "Letting Equestria fall into ruin? Abusing your power to - to -" there was a moment where the speaker clearly couldn't bring themselves to say something "-try and recreate something you lost?"

"What Celestia would have wanted doesn't matter," Twilight said, shutting her eyes. "Celestia isn't here. None of them are. Even you aren't here, really."

"Yes, I am, Twilight," said the voice. It sounded faintly musical, even through the exhaustion. It was just that its music was a funeral dirge. "I'm here. And I still love you."

"No." Twilight shook her head. "I failed you. You needed me, and I failed. I saw what Sombra did to you. And I can't use the Elements of Harmony. I tried, but they've left me." She let out a long, slow breath. "I'm so tired, Cadence."

Slowly, the princess of love lowered herself onto the stone beside Twilight and draped a wing over her barrel. She looked almost skeletal, and her horn looked off, pitted and twisted. Even her eyes were the wrong color, an unnatural mix of greens and reds and purples. But she pulled her friend close all the same.

"You didn't fail me," she whispered. "You saved me. Even if you couldn't undo all the damage, you saved me. And I'm here for you. But you have to stop this. Equestria needs its princess back, not a madmare who cares for nothing but recreating the past."

Twilight couldn't stop the brief hitching of her breath, or the sudden swell of tears that leaked out from beneath her closed eyelids. After a moment, she whispered, "I need the princess back, too."

"No, you don't," said Cadence, her voice growing sharper now. "You're strong, Twilight. You've always been strong. And now, you need to show it. You have to be the ruler Equestria needs. Nopony else can do it."

"I can't." It came out as a choked sob, and Twilight twisted away from Cadence, looking pained. She stood and moved to the far side of the balcony, swaying slightly with each step. "I can't, Cadence. I'm not strong. Not strong enough for that. This... I'm doing all I can do. It's not pretty. I don't like it. But I have to."

Cadence sighed and shut her eyes. "You're sure about this?"

Twilight nodded.

"You won't stop?"

A shake of her head, this time, and a murmured, "I can't."

Cadence took a deep breath. When her eyes opened again, they flickered with a sickly inner light, and her horn shone with a yellow aura the same hue as a fresh bruise.

"Then I'm sorry about this, Twilight," she said.

Before the lavender alicorn could react, there was a flare of light from Cadence's horn. When it faded, she was alone on the balcony, staring up at the moon.

And, in the darkened entrance hall of Castle Canterlot, Discord's film flickered to a stop.

24: The Heart Whose Woes Are Legion

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Spike was vaguely aware of the fact that a whole crowd of Discords had appeared around them, all cheering wildly and shouting for an encore. He ignored them and continued to stare at the blank canvas, willing the images to continue.

They didn't.

He felt the anger welling up inside him again and spun on the spot. When he spotted Discord standing in the middle of a crowd made entirely of himself, taking bows and signing photographs from the cheering clones, he forced his way forward, elbowing them aside until he reached the center.

"That's it?" he bellowed. He reared up on his hind legs and swung one taloned hand around, clutching the chimera around its neck. "That can't be it! There's got to be more!"

Someone coughed meaningfully behind him, and he turned his head to see another Discord, indistinguishable from the now-silent crowd around them, frowning at him. "Hands off the stunt double, please," it said. "I understand the impulse to harass celebrities, particularly after a successful film debut, but still, this is going a bit far."

Spike snarled at him and, ignoring the protestations from his body, swung the Discord copy in his hand around like a club, trying to smack the real one away with it. He never connected. Instead, there was the feeling of reality screaming, and Spike stumbled, landing badly on his injured leg, as Discord danced away. He sprawled full-length onto the stone and attempted to force himself upright again.

"Spike, no!"

He felt hooves pressing down on his shoulders. Both Compass Rose and Tailspin had rushed to his side and were doing their best to hold him down. Ordinarily, he would have had no issue with shrugging them off and continuing his charge, but the surge of anger that had carried him thus far was fading, and taking his strength with it. As it went, it left behind the feeling of absolute exhaustion.

He stopped trying to pick himself up. Just now, it wasn't such a bad thing to have somepony close.

"Very good," said Discord. The thing was sprawled lazily in midair as if it were seated on a particularly comfortable couch and watching Spike with an expression of vague disinterest. "Is everypony finished with their hysterics now? Can we get on with things?"

The dragon shut his eyes. While the story had played out in front of him, he had been able to focus on that rather than his injuries. Now that it was over, all the aches and pains were coming back. The bandages that Discord had magicked into existence around his wings were all done correctly, so far as he could tell, but he was still pretty certain that he had other bones that had broken and which remained unset. Even breathing hurt.

He forced himself to lie still and take steady, even breaths. Compass was still standing next to him, one hoof on his shoulder. She was stroking his scales gently, which made them ache even more. He considered telling her to stop, but decided against it. At that moment, the contact was worth the pain that came with it.

Tailspin, on the other hand, had pulled away. He could hear her walking slowly across the floor towards Discord.

"No," she said flatly. "We're not done. That... show was supposed to give us answers, but all it did was show us things we already knew. Celestia and Luna died, and Twilight is missing."

"Oh, no," said Discord. "Not missing. We know precisely where she is, remember?"

Spike's good eye snapped open again. "Where?"

Discord rolled his eyes again. "Well, if you haven't figured it out at this point, I'm not feeling particularly inclined to tell you," he said with a huff. "Aside from the fact that it really should be obvious where she was sent, if you actually make me say it, you're just going to try and attack me again. Not that it would work, mind you-" he waved his clawed arm dismissively "-but I worked hard on those bandages, and you need strict rest. Doctor Dizzy's orders."

Spike ground his shattered fangs together, growling, but the pressure of Compass' hoof on his shoulder kept him still. He looked instead to Tailspin, who was giving him an odd look. Before he could ask her what she was thinking of, though, Discord spoke again.

"Besides, like I said, this was about the lesson." He twisted in midair until he was hanging upside-down, grinning at the rest of them. "'Why' isn't a particularly meaningful question when applied to yours truly, I'll admit, but for everypony else, it's important. Tia was pretty smart, but she tended to overlook the why when it came to her little sister."

"Discord," Spike rumbled, "I already sat through your show. I've been through changelings, spells, mountains, storms, and windigos to get here. If you really are here to help, then get to the point."

The chimera glowered at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. Just for you, Spike, because we're friends." And then he was upright again, standing by the fire with both of his arms folded behind his back. Pith Helmet tried to scoot away without moving his splinted leg. Discord ignored him.

"Tia," he began, "couldn't let go of her relationship with her darling little sister. Even after things went bad the first time, when your precious Elements of Harmony were able to take all of Luna's anger and block it off for a while, when she had proof that her sister wasn't cut out for life as a pretty pony princess, she persisted." He paused, blinked, then quirked a slight smile. "And it's a mark of how serious I am attempting to be right now that I didn't even plan that alliteration beforehand."

He brought his hands out from behind his back, revealing a pair of crude sock puppets in the likenesses of Celestia and Luna. "So, naturally, this resulted in... well. You saw." The Luna hand puppet bit down on the Celestia one and shook it back and forth violently as he continued. "And all because Luna couldn't let go, either. Both of them did truly love their subjects, you know, but Tia was always better at remaining detached. So, eventually, Luna lost her mind when she couldn't let go of all the poor ponies she watched die, and decided to engage in what was essentially an overly-dramatized murder-suicide."

A third puppet came into view. This one was on the tip of his tail, and was unmistakably meant to be Twilight Sparkle, despite the shoddy craftsmanship. "And then we have your poor purple princess," he continued. The Luna puppet had ripped its Celestia counterpart off of his other hand and was chewing on it lazily. As the final puppet approached, though, it burst into violet flames and withered away. "Who lost her parents, older sibling, best friends, younger sibling slash son, and finally her beloved mentor. And, of course, when I offered her my own advice, she reacted poorly."

He plucked the last puppet off the tip of his tail and tossed it carelessly into the fire. "All because they were all attempting to hold onto things that couldn't last," he said. "Tragic. Truly tragic. And, of course, that resulted in your dear Twilight being banished to the moon."

Spike blinked.

He was vaguely aware that Tailspin was scowling and had raised one hoof to cover her face. Compass Rose and Pith Helmet just gaped.

A little voice in the back of his head told him that he should be feeling something. At the very least, he should be attempting to throttle an actual explanation out of Discord instead of listening to him ramble on for hours and trying to coax him into giving a straight answer.

He didn't. His brain had just... stopped.

"Princess Cadence," he said slowly, in an absolute, even monotone, "banished Twilight Sparkle to the moon."

"Well, yes," said Discord, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because she was apparently trying to, and I quote, 'recreate the past'-" he waggled two claws and two stubby, furred digits expressively "-and 'abusing her power'. And before you ask, no, I don't know exactly what she was doing, because I was barely capable of looking out of that throne room for more than a few seconds at a time at the, hah, time." He lowered his arms and shrugged. "But I can make a pretty good guess, and I'm sure you can, too. Even you were never that thick."

Spike felt his jaw muscles clenching involuntarily. "Then tell us your guess."

Discord sighed. "You really do want everything spoon-fed to you, don't you? Well, no point in delaying it, I suppose. Even annoying you begins to wear thin after a while." He clasped both hands in front of him. "Twilight Sparkle goes rushing off to the Crystal Kingdom, Elements of Harmony in tow. When she returns, she has Cadence in tow, sporting a spiffy new horn and eye color, and she won't shut up about how the Elements of Harmony have left her. Then she and Cadence have a little chat where Cadence berates her for something, she cries about not being able to do this alone, and then... voom."

His hands parted, and a tiny purple orb of light floated between them for a moment before rocketing up and disappearing into the rafters. "Cadence leaves to the Crystal Empire, the nightmare mist springs up, and on the anniversary night of dear Twilight's banishment every year thereafter, a mysterious alicorn appears in what used to be Equestria, rampages about for a few hours, snatches up a few ponies, and then vanishes in a flash of black, red, and green. Rather cut-and-dry, wouldn't you say?"

Spike stared at him, waiting.

After a few seconds, Discord sighed. "Fine." He snorted and tossed his head. "I'll put it in terms that even a foal could understand, since you don't seem to be catching on. Your precious Twilight has gone battier than Luna, become the Mare in the Moon, and started kidnapping ponies to experiment on, probably to try and do something with the Elements of Harmony. Meanwhile, Princess Cadence is using dark magic to try and keep her out of Equestria. Happy?"

Spike blinked, once. Then, very slowly, he turned his gaze to each of his traveling companions in turn. There was Pith Helmet, still sprawled on the other side of the fire and watching him with the same stony expression that he always wore when he didn't have anything to say. Tailspin was sitting back on her haunches, wings drooping listlessly to either side of her body, and looking as though she wanted to try and offer him some form of comfort, but couldn't think of any way to do so. Rarity's necklace glinted in the firelight as she shifted nervously. And, finally, there was Compass Rose, still standing next to him with one hoof on his shoulder and looking thunderstruck.

He took a deep breath, released it, and took another. He shut his eyes, took another breath, opened them, released it. Again.

Nothing came. There was no sadness, no anger, not even the barest hint of confusion. His mind was simply empty of any thoughts, completely unable to respond.

Finally, he looked back to Discord, who was still standing across the fire with an expression of impatience, and opened his mouth to speak.

The only word he could find was "No."


A few hours later, Tailspin set off into the castle hallways again.

Compass and Pith remained behind in the entrance hall with Discord. The monster had, eventually, been persuaded to summon a hospital bed for Pith to lie on, so at least his leg wasn't being disturbed, and Compass had assured her that the two of them would be all right.

For all that Discord was a nuisance, Tailspin believed her. If the chimera had wanted to cause them harm, it would have done so long ago. None of them could use magic, and as far as she could imagine, there was no other way to defend themselves from such an entity. But it did seem set on helping them instead, even if it was extremely odd in doing so, and even if its help only came after a dozen attempts to get it to speak plainly.

She wasn't surprised to find Spike in the throne room. The dragon had limped off into the shadows, alone, not long after Discord's story had finished. Now he was curled up next to a small fire created from another of the tapestries that decorated the walls.

He didn't look around as she entered. He was just staring up at the statues that lined the hall, his expression completely blank.

"Hey, big guy," she said gently as she trotted up to him. "Figured you would need some food and water. We've still got most of that, thankfully." She pulled a few cans and a large canteen out of one saddlebag, then pushed them towards the dragon with one hoof.

"I'm not hungry." Spike just kept staring upward. His eyes were fixed on a statue that, even in the dim, flickering firelight, Tailspin knew depicted Rarity.

She sighed, dropped onto her haunches, and pushed the small pile towards him again. "I didn't ask if you were hungry," she said. "I said you need food. Eat."

"No."

Tailspin sighed, set her jaw, and pushed her helmet back slightly. "Right," she said. "I know where this is going, and I've had enough of beating around the various bushes for today. So listen up."

She jabbed him in the side with one hoof, which provoked a snarl and turned the dragon's gaze towards her for the first time. She recognized the anger there, and part of her realized that she had just put her hoof dangerously close to one of the gaping rents in his scales from Queen Chrysalis' attack, but she didn't flinch.

"Got your attention? Good." She straightened up and spread her wings slightly, frowning. "You're hurting right now, and I know that. But wallowing in it isn't going to get anything done. Remember, we're on a mission here. Queen Chrysalis is still a threat. There's whoever this Cadence is to deal with as well. Even Twilight Sparkle still needs your help. It just isn't the type of help you expected it to be."

His glare didn't waver. She returned it stolidly. "Right now, there's a unicorn a few rooms away who lost her horn just a few days ago and still volunteered to come with you. In fact, she still managed to find the way through all that magic to get you here. And there's an earth pony who might never walk again because he stuck by you and found you a safe path through uncharted mountains. They aren't the only ones who've made sacrifices for you, either. Even Colonel Reveille did everything he could to help. You don't get to just turn away from that, no matter how hopeless you might feel."

There was the metallic sound of Spike's scales moving against the stone floor. He was drawing himself up into a sitting position, facing her. The firelight lit him from below, made it impossible to read his expression. All she could see was his one open eye reflecting the blaze.

Slowly, he lifted one claw and set it against the ruby necklace she wore.

"You've made sacrifices, too," he rumbled.

She snorted. "No," she said. "I just got put in the wrong place at the wrong time and lost something as a result. I won't pretend I've done as much as they have. But I will say this." She lifted her right foreleg and draped it over his claw. "You don't just get to stop now because you're feeling hopeless."

She was acutely aware of the fact that a single twitch of his hand would kill her before she could react. His talons were inches away.

Above her, that single eye still blazed.

He lowered his head. When he spoke, his voice was shaky. "I don't know what to do next."

"We go back to the fort," Tailspin said simply. "We deal with Queen Chrysalis and her army. Then we figure out a way to help Twilight or talk to this Cadence pony, or anything else. It isn't hopeless, even if we didn't find the Elements here. We did find someth- someone useful, and at least we know that we can use the Elements now. We have a chance."

Spike let out a long breath, then lifted his head again. He didn't look at her, though. Instead, he turned to look up at two of the statues. One of them was the frizzy-maned earth pony that she assumed was Pinkie Pie. The other, standing to the left of the first, was another earth pony mare. This one was wearing a hat.

"Right," he said. She noted with some relief that there was a bit of energy entering his voice now. "Right. We do have a chance. It's not much of one, but we do."

She nodded. "Glad to see you're still alive in there," she said. A small smile played around her lips as she stood. "I'm going back to the entrance hall. Discord doesn't seem dangerous, but he's also not particularly helpful, and the other two need some watching. We'll be waiting for you there."

With that, she turned away and began to trot off towards the doorway again.

Spike's voice stopped her after a few steps. "You have, you know," he called.

She glanced at him over one shoulder and raised an eyebrow, confused. "I've what?"

Spike gave her a sheepish smile. "Done as much as they have." He paused, sighed, and finished, "I'm just glad you're here, is all I'm saying. Thank you."

She grinned at him. "If you say so, big guy. Just eat, and come back to us when you're ready. I'm going to go see what sort of candy apocalypse that maniac has whipped up."

And she strode away, smiling to herself.

25: Pressing Concerns

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Compass was trying her best to ignore the constant, throbbing pain in her horn. It wasn't really working. Discord's presence cut through whatever tolerance she had built up like a hot knife through butter. He was almost literally a walking migraine.

That made trying to talk to him even worse than it would have been otherwise. Even if he seemed to be a bit more subdued following the revelations he had imparted to Spike, Discord was still almost impossible to weasel any straight answers out of, and combining that with her headaches put things on the level of getting her teeth pulled out one by one.

Still, it was important. If it weren't, she would have given in to her exhaustion and fallen asleep long ago. Pith was asleep on the bed that Discord had conjured up for him, though she wasn't really certain whether he had actively chosen to rest or had simply passed out. Either way, she was glad he was resting.

A large part of Compass wished that she could go to sleep as well. As far as she could tell, she hadn't actually broken anything in the crash, which left her second only to Tailspin as the most physically capable member of their little troupe, but she was still exhausted and sore. For some reason, though, no matter how tired she felt, she couldn't actually feel any desire to actually sleep. The exhaustion was just there, hanging over her like a shroud.

No, she didn't want to sleep. She felt almost the same way she had back at the fortress, when she had been pushed far beyond her normal limits and had somehow found it easier to keep going than to stop. So, rather than curling up by the fire and trying to get some rest, she was sitting in a chair behind a claw-footed desk that Discord had conjured up, poring over a set of papers that she had retrieved from her saddlebags, and trying to ignore the occasional growl or purring noise from the table as it shifted on its mismatched legs.

Most of the maps she had brought with her had been severely damaged by water at some point. Whether that was a product of the storm or the windigos, she wasn't entirely sure. It didn't really matter anyway. The maps weren't the most important thing. The most important thing was the copy of Twilight Sparkle's spellbook that she had brought with her.

It had been damaged by water as well, of course, which meant that almost all of the pages towards the front had been reduced to an amorphous mass of pulp and ink, and the rest had deep smudges scattered throughout. Almost all of the actual dissertation on magical theory had been obliterated. The pages that had survived intact were the spells, which had been compiled in several sections towards the back of the book.

The section on unicorn spells was mostly legible, but that wasn't what she was looking at now. She had opened the copy to the section listing various forms of alicorn magic, and was doing her best to make sense of it.

It was slow going for more reasons than simple smudging. Even where the spells were technically readable, they didn't make much sense. As Compass Rose was quickly learning, alicorn magic shared little with unicorn magic beyond the most absolutely basic principles, and even those seemed fluid and unreliable.

A few days ago, she would have cast the book aside as useless to her. There was no way that any unicorn, let alone one as unskilled with magic as herself, could possibly have worked their way through that, especially if they no longer had the ability to cast any kind of spell themselves. Now, though, she just continued to stare at the page. In her head, a few more scraps of comprehension slotted themselves into place. It was like watching a puzzle being put together. Slowly, a concrete image was forming.

It just wasn't one that she particularly liked.

"How did this Cadence pony manage it, then?" she asked Discord, trying to ignore the fact that looking at him made her head feel as though it were about to explode. "If even Celestia couldn't do it without the Elements-"

"I haven't the foggiest idea," answered the monster blithely. "As I said, I was locked up in the throne room at the time. I had a hard enough time seeing as much as I did, without trying to find anything more. But no, she was quite normal for an alicorn, assuming my memory is still working."

He raised one claw and pushed it impossibly far into his ear, then withdrew it a moment later with a slight popping sound. There was something small and shiny in his grasp, which he inspected carefully before nodding and re-inserting it. "Yes," he said, more confidently. "Quite normal. Certainly not as strong as Tia, at least. Or Twilight, for that matter. And far below yours truly, of course."

Compass' lips moved soundlessly as she sorted through some of the information she had been absorbing. Then she shook her head. "Then we're missing something."

"Missing what?" It was Tailspin's voice. When Compass looked up, the pegasus was reentering the entrance hall from the doors at the far end. She looked surprisingly cheerful as she approached the fire, even though there was no dragon with her.

The unicorn pursed her lips and tapped on the desk with one hoof. It shifted slightly and opened one drawer with an agitated sort of creak. She ignored it. "How Cadence managed to send Twilight to the moon," she said. "Alicorns are strong, but they still have limits. I'm not an expert on magic by any means-" she ignored the slight laugh from Discord and plunged on "-but the sort of magical power necessary to send somepony to the moon in the first place would be immense. Keeping them there requires even more. Even alicorns wouldn't be able to manage that, unless they're a lot - and I mean a lot - stronger than we thought. It would be something on the level of... of..." She trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

"Of altering reality at a whim, perhaps?" Discord said from behind her. He was draped over the back of her chair and grinning widely at her. She didn't bother to ask how he had gotten there. She just grimaced and raised one hoof to cover her broken horn.

"Right," she said. "Like that. Maybe you're strong enough to do something like that-"

"Was," Discord interjected. "Was strong enough to do things like that." He kicked his legs lazily. "Aside from that stunt with the moon, Miss Sparklebutt's spell did a number on me as well. And I haven't exactly had the opportunity to recover yet, seeing as I've been locked up the whole time since. Now I'm as weak as a kitten." He turned what he probably thought was an adorable, helpless expression towards her. All it did was emphasis the jaundiced, sickly nature of his eyes.

"-but," Compass continued sharply, "I don't think anypony else is."

"Well, of course not," said Discord. He let himself slither off one side of the chair, then made his way across the floor towards the fire like a snake. "Tia had to use the Elements of Harmony to manage it on dear Luna the first time, and even then, it didn't last forever. I'd imagine Cadey not being strong enough to manage it normally is why she went all-" His eyes bugged out for a moment and spun with different hues of black, red, and green in rapid succession. "And even then, of course, it's not perfect. If it was, we wouldn't have our yearly homecoming parties."

Compass shook her head and looked back to the papers. Every pony in the settlements knew about the Nightmare Night. It never fell on the same night on any given year, but it was always close to twelve months after the last event. She had never had the misfortune to be in one of the settlements affected by it, but she had seen the aftermath of the military's containment efforts, and seen the expressions on the faces of the families who lost members to her.

It was the same every time. An alicorn cloaked in blackness appeared in a city, captured a handful of seemingly random ponies with her magic, repulsed every attack made against her by the military, and then vanished again. She had never imagined that the alicorn in question could be Twilight Sparkle, though, or that the only reason that she kept vanishing was because another alicorn might be working against her. But then, precious few ponies outside of the military had actually witnessed a Nightmare event and survived. Those that did usually didn't care to talk about it much. And she had never imagined that it might concern her.

Until a few days ago, she wouldn't have imagined that anything like that would ever concern her. Now she was sitting in the middle of the ruined capitol of a fallen empire, surrounded by the remnants of past battles, speaking with a lunatic god, accompanied by a dragon older than her civilization, and, though she hadn't actually asked Discord to confirm it yet, was fairly certain that she was one of three ponies chosen by some unknown method to wield a weapon powerful enough to defy the laws of magic.

She had a vague feeling that she should feel overwhelmed by this. She didn't. In fact, she felt oddly exhilarated, even through the exhaustion.

"Right," she said. "So that's another question. How did Cadence get strong enough to cast that spell?"

Tailspin sighed and made her way over to the other side of the desk. "No offense, Compass, but I think we have more pressing issues to focus on."

"I know." Compass nodded twice, then turned a page in the sodden mass and looked down to it again. "We need to find a way to get to the moon ourselves, which could be just as hard. Failing that, we need to find a way to get through the nightmare mist and speak to this Cadence pony. She and Twilight are the only ones who might be able to tell us where to find the Elements."

"No," said Tailspin. She set one hoof on top of the book, keeping Compass from turning any more pages, and frowned. "I mean we have time constraints here, remember? We came here looking for the Elements because Queen Chrysalis is coming. They aren't here, which means that we have to find some other way to fight her."

Compass blinked. "Oh. Is that all?"

"Is that all?" Tailspin gave her an odd look. "What do you mean, 'is that all?' That's the whole reason we're here."

"No no no," said Compass quickly, waving a hoof. "I just mean that we don't really need to worry about that any more. We didn't find the Elements, but we did find something else."

She turned to look at Discord, who was lounging in a sun chair beside the fire with some sort of fizzy drink in his claws. He gave her a blank look.

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you," she said. "You said it yourself. You used to be one of the strongest beings in existence. Even if you're weaker now, you can still do something about the changelings."

Discord sat up quickly and waved his paw, frowning. "Oh, no. I thought I told you already that I don't do fighting. Besides-" the air twisted around him again, and Compass winced as the sun chair vanished, replaced by a second hospital bed and a thermometer, which he placed between his jagged teeth "-I truly am as weak as a kitten just now. Facing off against an enraged alicorn might be enough to overpower my frail constitution completely. Why, I feel faint just thinking of it."

"You're keeping the things outside from getting in," Compass said. She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure you're as weak as you say you are."

"Posh." Discord pulled the blankets on his bed up under his chin, snapped his fingers, and placed the resultant hot water bottle on top of his head. "That hardly takes any effort at all. The space out there is so twisted up from all the lingering magic that it was harder to get all of you inside than it will be to get you out again."

"And how were you planning to get us out?" said another voice. Compass looked around to see Spike limping his way back into the hall. He was frowning heavily, but he looked intact, at least. That was a relief. His expression after speaking with Discord had made her think that he might never smile again. Now he merely looked concerned.

"Ah, Spike," said Discord, his voice now breathy and weak. "Come to visit me on my deathbed? Will you offer words of comfort, or more cruel accusations of not offering everything that I-"

"Answer the question," said the dragon sharply. His talons clicked on the stone stairs as he made his way down towards the fire.

Discord sighed. When he spoke again, his voice was back to its usual strength. "Oh, you're no fun. Fine. A teleportation spell. Not far. Just enough to get us out of the windigos' territory. That's about all I can manage right now, aside from some minor amusements. Fortunately, they only hang around the top of the mountain. They've been scavenging off of the remnants of Luna's hate since dear Cadence cast her little spell."

"And then what?" Spike dropped onto his haunches just beside Pith's sickbed, still staring at Discord with his one good eye. "What was your plan after that?"

Discord sighed. "How many times do I have to say 'chaos' for you to understand? I don't have a plan. The closest thing to an end goal I have here is 'set the dragon loose and see what happens, because it's got to be better than sitting around in this dingy throne room forever'. The last time I actually tried to come up with a real plan, every tailor in Canterlot wanted me re-statuefied and Tia wouldn't speak to me for a week. I am a facilitator. You and your friends are always the ones who come up with the plan."

Spike snorted, and his tail started to swing out to the side before he winced and stopped himself. "Well," he said grimly, "that's great, then. The Elements of Harmony are probably on the moon for all we know, Cadence is behind a wall of nightmare fog, Twilight isn't just missing but is actively insane, and we're all in worse condition now than when we actually came out here." He shook his head. "Not exactly the best way to prepare for a major battle."

Compass looked back down to the papers on the desk, then up to Discord again. The chimera was babbling something to Spike, probably making another tasteless joke, but she wasn't listening. Her mind was buzzing too loudly for her to hear anything but her own thoughts.

Problem. Queen Chrysalis was preparing for an attack, and the Elements of Harmony were inaccessible at the current time. She lacked any real ability to cast spells, and even if she had that power, one unicorn would hardly be enough to resolve the issue. That left a heavily wounded dragon and a chaos spirit with only a small amount of power remaining as their only tools.

Possible solutions. Depend on the military's established strength to turn the tide of the attack; unlikely to succeed, with Chrysalis leading the charge. Attempt to establish a defensive line of changeling-repelling spells along the fortresses; equally unlikely, with the added chance that it was entirely impossible - she hadn't verified that the spell was even in the spellbook yet, and even if it was, the military developing a usable, stable version that could be maintained indefinitely in a permanent cordon around the Tangle was an idea so far-fetched as to be ludicrous.

More unorthodox solutions. Find a way to return Spike to fighting condition and rely on him to defeat the bulk of the changeling forces; possible, but unlikely, with too many variables to be depended upon. Spike might not be strong enough to defeat the changelings, Chrysalis could intervene, they lacked a way to corral the enemy forces and keep them occupied with fighting a dragon, et cetera, et cetera. Find a way to return Discord to fighting condition; still far too many variables to be considered truly reliable, including Discord's own reluctance to actually engage in open combat with anything, but if it could be done, it was by far the most certain way of winning.

No reliable solutions presented themselves. For a moment, she stood ready to pronounce the situation hopeless. Then she shook herself.

Think of it like a map. You have a starting point and an ending point. Now find the path between them.

She snatched up a pen that had rolled to one corner of the desk, flipped the copied spellbook over, and began to scribble furiously on its back cover.

Tailspin gave her a sidelong look. "What is it?" she muttered.

"I might have an idea," Compass answered quietly. "But there's no guarantee it will work. Give me a minute to think."

No single solution was enough. If she combined them, however, the beginnings of a solution took form. That solution, though, brought up a new problem, and that one intimidated her more than the rest combined.

She clenched her teeth and continued on.


Tailspin shoveled another mouthful of canned stew into her mouth. It wasn't particularly fancy food, but it was solid stuff that didn't require any real preparation and could be eaten on the go. For somepony that spent weeks at a time out in the wilderness, it was perfect. The fact that it tasted like used sweat socks was the only real downside.

The only sounds in the hall were those from her eating, the crackling of the fire, and the sound of Compass Rose's pen scratching across paper. She had been writing non-stop for nearly twenty minutes, her face twisted in a look of absolute concentration. Spike and Tailspin were both watching her silently. Pith was still asleep, and even Discord seemed to have settled into a sort of doze. She was glad about that. Every time he opened his mouth, she felt an exceedingly powerful urge to throttle something.

There was a snort from beside her, and she turned to see Pith crack open one eye and peer blearily around. When he spotted her, he blinked slowly.

"So I wasn't imagining that," he grunted. "You are actually up. Good. Am I done hallucinating now?"

She shrugged and gave him a faint smile. "Don't think you ever were," she said. "Though I don't blame you for thinking that. Discord's still around. I'm just glad he finally shut up."

Pith turned his head so that he was fully facing the two of them and grimaced. "So the chocolate boat and the picture show about the crazy alicorns was real, then," he said, sounding vaguely disappointed. "Great. What's happening now?"

"You're resting," said Tailspin firmly. She reached out and put a hoof on his shoulder; he had been trying to push himself upright. "That's what we're all doing, really. Your leg's busted up good, and your ribs are probably almost as bad, so don't put any strain on yourself."

Pith frowned, sighed, and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Fine," he said. "Don't think I could move much if I wanted to. What's Compass doing?"

"Making plans," said Compass.

All of them looked around. Compass had finally lifted her head and set her pen aside. She was looking tired and nervous, but determined. "I think I've come up with a possible solution," she continued slowly, "but I can't make any guarantees yet. There are still some things I've got to know." She looked over to Discord. "Starting with you."

"Moi?" Discord put his clawed hand over his chest, looking mildly surprised. "And here I thought you had forgotten-"

Compass raised both hooves, pursed her lips, and stared at him for a moment. Slowly, Discord let his arm fall back to the bed and sighed. "Fine," he said, sounding extremely put-upon. "What is it you want to know?"

The unicorn nodded once, looking satisfied, and lowered her hooves to the desk again. "You're weak right now because you expended so much magic trying to stop the moon," she said. "Is it possible that you can take in magic in the same way? That you might be able to heal yourself by, and I know this is the wrong word but it's the best I can come up with, eating magic?"

Discord glanced towards the shadows at the edge of the firelight. Even know, they still seemed to twist and shift unnaturally. He huffed and turned away. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "I wouldn't touch such swill even if it were served in a-"

"I'm not talking about this magic," Compass said sharply. "I don't want to know what happens if somepony takes in too much of this kind. But you said it yourself; the mountains out there have so much magic in them that it's almost impossible to move. If you could expose yourself to that kind of magic, would that make you stronger?"

"Possibly," said Discord slowly. He had a thoughtful look on his face now. "I've never really had reason to try until now. But, ha, I suppose that's why I woke our dragon friend up in the first place. First time for everything." He stroked his chin. "But I'd need time, and I won't get it with our icy companions out there. Even I don't particularly like the idea of becoming a popsicle. Pinkie Pie might have, but I-"

"Right." Compass sighed and settled back into her chair, rubbing at her face with her hooves. "That's the important part. You're our ace in the hole, and we need you as strong as possible. So we need to get you out there and gathering up as much magic as you can as soon as possible. Which means the rest of us-" she lifted her head again and looked over to Spike and the others "-are going to have to find a way to get rid of those windigos."

Tailspin felt a sudden rush of hot air over her wings as Spike snorted. "We can't," he said. "Windigos feed on negative emotions like fear and hate. If Princess Luna was strong enough to keep feeding them for this long, then there's no way we'll be able to beat them here. Not without magic."

Compass frowned heavily. "I know," she said. "Which is why I've been working on this." She tapped on the back of the spellbook with one hoof. "I can't guarantee that it'll get rid of them, or that I'll even be able to cast it, but it's the best I can come up with."

They all watched her for a moment, unsure of what to say.

It was Pith who broke the silence. He let out a grunt and attempted to push himself upright again using his one good leg, ignoring Tailspin's scowls and efforts to hold him still. "No," he said. "It's too much of a risk. I don't want you to have to try and fight off a horde of evil ice monsters with a broken horn. Not when the rest of us can't help you."

"Well, do you have a better idea?" Compass asked sharply. She drew herself up and gave him an imperious glare. "My horn is broken, but I can still manage some basic spells if I try, and I don't see any other options."

"No," said Tailspin, as she finally managed to push the struggling stallion back onto the sheets, "Pith's right. We're all glad you're here, Compass, but putting that much strain on yourself for a long shot isn't the way to do this. You're right. We need Discord-"

"Please, call me Dizzy," said Discord sweetly.

"-as strong as we can get him," she plowed on. "But there might be other ways to do it. Throwing yourself into a pack of windigos when there might be other options available isn't what we need. We still have some time before Chrysalis attacks. We can find another way to do this."

Gradually, she became aware that both Discord and Compass had sudden awkward looks on their faces.

"We do still have time," she said, a certain accusatory tone becoming evident in her voice. "Don't we?"

Discord hopped off his bed and, through some trick of space, managed to end up standing on Compass' right side and holding a microphone. He cleared his throat. "I'll field this one, Miss Rose," he muttered in her ear. Then he straightened up and waved his lion paw.

A small rectangle of light appeared floating in the air behind him, depicting what Tailspin immediately recognized as a map of the Tangle and the surrounding fortresses. "Now, for those who missed our last broadcast," he said, "perhaps because they were off speaking to dragons in other rooms, here's what you missed."

Icons began to pop into existence over the map. A handful of them looked like little suns with happy faces, and were positioned over the forts and the area behind them. The rest were black clouds covered in wicked-looking blue thorns that erupted out of them from the inside. Occasionally, little stylized lightning bolts arced between them.

"It's been a lovely week for our little ponies in the Fort Maneholdt district," Discord said brightly. "Clear skies and smoony days as far as the eye can see. But that's going to change come tomorrow."

Brightly colored arrows began to emanate from the dark clouds. All of them pointed towards the fortresses.

"Yes, it's a doozy of a storm that our friends from the Tangle have whipped up for us, folks!" Discord was grinning like a loon now, and waving his clawed hand over the map in quick, frantic motions. "Starting tomorrow night, if you can call it that, ha, we'll be seeing flash floods, sleet, lightning, and possibly even some plunder hail, mixed with twelve to twenty-four inches of changelings."

"That's enough, Discord," said Compass quietly.

To Tailspin's mild surprise, the image disappeared immediately, and Discord danced away, humming a little jingle to himself. Compass just sighed.

"So no," she said, "we don't have time. Queen Chrysalis is going to attack soon, and we don't have the Elements of Harmony to try and stop her. It's my plan or nothing." She shook her head. "I don't like it. I'm probably going to fail, and you're going to have to try and find another way to stop them. But it's the only thing I can think of."

Again, there was silence. Again, it was Pith who broke it.

"All right then," he said. "So when are we doing this?"

Compass looked confused. "We? I'm the only one-"

"If you think we're sending you out there alone, you're crazy," Pith said flatly. "We can't use magic, but we still might be able to do something. 'F nothing else, I can hold a light for you or something."

Tailspin nodded, and, behind her, Spike's face split into a wide grin, exposing his rows of broken teeth.

"Right," he said, nodding. "We're not going to make anypony stand on their own here. Friends, right?" He laughed. "Besides. Did I ever tell you what they called the magic they used to beat the windigos before?"

Compass shook her head. She was vaguely aware of Discord making some exaggerated gagging noises in the background, but she ignored him.

Spike laughed. "'The Fire of Friendship'. We're sticking with you, Compass. Besides, it's not like I haven't been present for my share of stupid, desperate gambles before. What's one more now?"

"I'd rather we didn't all end up as icicles," said Tailspin, "but I'm not sending you out there alone, either."

As one, they turned to Discord. He paused in his fake-vomiting and eyed them all warily.

"What?"

"Well?" said Spike. "Are you in or not?"

Discord sighed, straightened up, and ran one hand through his mane. "I don't suppose I have much choice in the matter," he said. "I already rolled the dice. Now it's about time to see whether or not I've bet on the right racer." He blinked. "I believe I got a bit lost with that metaphor, but you get the point."

Compass, despite obvious fear and exhaustion, smiled. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Really."

"Don't thank us until we're out and alive," said Tailspin, standing up. "Come on, Spike. You and I are the only ones who can really carry anything right now, so let's get this stuff packed up. We're heading out."

And they turned to gather up their equipment.

26: No Hard Feelings

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"Okay, no," said Spike in a pained voice. "This isn't going to work."

He shook himself, sending the saddlebags that Tailspin had been attempting to attach to him to the floor. It wasn't that he didn't have the physical strength necessary to carry them, even though they were by far the most heavily burdened of any of the saddlebags they had brought. Pith had been carrying them before, and even while injured, Spike was pretty certain that he was stronger than the stallion.

No, the problem was that, even though he had only been carrying them for a brief moment, they had made him feel as though his wings were being destroyed all over again. The bandages Discord had conjured up and, even though he wasn't an expert on such things by any stretch of the word, the set felt professional enough. He still had hopes that they would heal, but putting added strain on them wasn't the way to let them do that.

Tailspin sighed and scooped up the saddlebags. "Fine," she said. "We'll have to put these on the bed as well. I'd rather have them with somebody, just so we're sure we won't lose them, but I guess it can't really be helped."

"Don't worry. I'll hold onto 'em," said Pith, raising his good leg. Discord had, after some coaxing, been convinced to change his bed into a sort of wheeled stretcher with an elevated head. The stallion was reclining in it as best he could, looking uncomfortable. Tailspin had insisted on lashing him to it the same way she had been tied to Spike's back. He didn't look particularly happy about that, but he didn't complain. He just accepted the saddlebags and did his best to hook them around the ropes.

Discord was leaning against the gurney, looking bored. Occasionally, he suppressed a yawn. None of them had even bothered asking him if he would help with carrying the saddlebags. It had been hard enough to get him to agree to wheel Pith around, away from any of the more severe dangers that cropped up. Again, Pith wasn't happy about that, but after a short, whispered discussion between himself and Tailspin, he'd agreed that he should try to stay out of the way as much as possible.

Compass had gathered up her maps and pens again and was pacing the floor, talking incessantly. Her words came out in a rush, high and slightly frantic, and Spike could see that she was shaking slightly. "So," she babbled, "assuming that I can actually cast this spell and we don't all die, Discord will absorb the magic from the mountains, teleport us back to Fort Maneholdt, and when the changelings arrive, he can... stop them, however he plans on doing that, I guess."

"Assuming that I actually can do that," Discord said lazily. He huffed on his claws and spent a moment rubbing them against his mangy coat. "I've never even attempted something like this before."

"Yes, yes, I know." Compass was obviously fighting, and failing, to keep her expression neutral. Her voice was growing more and more panicked by the moment. "All of this is based on a series of huge ifs. If I can cast the spell, if you can absorb the ambient magic, if the spell even works-"

Spike reached out and set one clawed hand between her shoulders as she walked by. She jumped slightly, but stopped and looked up at him.

He smiled crookedly. "I spent enough time with Twilight to know when somepony's in panic mode," he said, somehow managing to sound gentle despite the echoing nature of his voice. "Try to relax."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "Relax? Relax? Now? Really?"

Through some effort, the dragon managed to keep his smile from fading as he nodded. "Yes, really. We'll be all right. Even if the spell doesn't work, Discord can just teleport us all out."

"You're rather quick to volunteer my services," Discord cut in.

"Says the one who's supposedly here to join Team Friendship," countered Spike, without missing a beat. He gave Discord a disapproving look. "Or were you planning on backing out now?"

"Oh, no, not at all," said Discord. He smiled. "Just making an observation. Of course I'll help. We're all friends here, after all." He leaned over and ruffled Pith's mane with one hand. The stallion just scowled.

Spike eyed him for a moment before looking back to Compass. "See? Even if you can't cast it, we'll be fine. We'll just find another way to handle Chrysalis. Just breathe, okay?"

The unicorn nodded. She still didn't look entirely convinced, but the shaking had died down somewhat, at least. He gave her a gentle pat, then turned to the others.

Spike watched her walk off to put on her cloak, then settled down onto the floor to wait while they sorted out the rest. The stone scraped against his scales uncomfortably. It felt as though every one of them had been splintered, loosened, or was just outright missing - the bandages covering the deep rents in his hide that Queen Chrysalis had left were gone, destroyed when he had lost control of his size during the fall. The wounds shifted as he breathed, joining the rest of his injuries in torturing him.

His one-eyed gaze drifted towards Discord. The chimera was leaning against Pith's stretcher and occupying himself with swapping out the various items from Tailspin's saddlebags when her back was turned, making it impossible for her to take inventory.

"My eyes are down here, big boy," said a voice in his ear.

Spike blinked and turned his head slightly. There was a second, smaller Discord, this one hardly the size of a kitten, sitting on one of his hands and grinning maliciously up at him. No one else seemed to have noticed, and the original was still snickering to himself at the pegasus' expression. Spike looked back down and let out a low rumble from the back of his throat.

"What do you want?" His voice was as quiet as he could make it.

The tiny Discord patted the back of his hand with its stubby paw. "Just checking up on an old friend," it said, its voice dripping sincerity. "After all, you and I are the last of the old guard now. The foulest of foul weathers, the endless eons, the thickest of thieves - and it comes down to us. You and me, Spikey-Wikey. Pals."

The thing dropped onto its belly and slithered up his arm, then dropped into a sitting position on the back of his neck. Spike could feel it sitting there, behind his head, and whispering. "So I thought I'd come over here for a little heart-to-heart, while Miss Not-A-Cripple-Anymore is finishing up the sorting. You ran off in rather a huff after our last discussion, after all. I just wanted to be sure there are no... shall we say, hard feelings between us? After all, I am trying ever so hard to be helpful."

Spike looked back to Tailspin and Compass. The two of them were putting on their cloaks and fashioning crude torches from the remnants of the fire. Around them, the once-grand entrance hall was dark, ruined, flooded with unnatural shadows fed by the hatred of a pony he had once known and loved. The throne room was full of statues of his friends and his wife, but they were all worn with age. And, in the end, they were nothing but stone.

That's the closest you'll ever get to seeing any of them again.

He grit his teeth. "No," he rumbled. "No hard feelings."


The front gates of Castle Canterlot opened slowly. Even with all of Spike's bulk thrown against them, they were massive, heavy things. If the force of impact from his crash hadn't reduced almost the entire top half of them to rubble, he doubted that he would have been able to move them at all.

As it was, he still barely managed it. He couldn't make use of one of his arms, and the rest of his body wasn't in much better shape. It took him almost a full minute to force the gates open, but eventually they swung wide, accompanied by the sound of grinding stone. In their wake, he stepped out onto the front steps, the others following at his heels.

Laid out before them was the gutted carcass of what had once been the most beautiful city in Equestria.

The raw magic that permeated the mountains was just as strong here. A few yards away from the open gates, the city seemed to be fighting with itself. A three-story stone ruin that had probably been some sort of store was clashing with one of the city plazas. One street seemed to have seven endpoints when Spike tried to trace its length from afar. A tall, spired building became the memorial cemetery when looked at from another angle.

And, overhead, the windigos raged.

Canterlot had not escaped their touch. The city was a study in shadows and ice. Most buildings were nothing but outlines, their remains too caked with rime to be made out. The frost had taken on odd, misshapen contours under the pressure of the howling winds. Their shadows filled the streets and seemed to writhe at the edge of vision.

Spike shuddered and looked away. Just here, in front of the castle gates, they seemed to be in the eye of the magical storm. There was wind here, but it was just a breeze. It was cold, but not unnaturally so, and far from being as powerful as the gale that whipped the snow off of the buildings ahead and churned it into a thick, icy mist. The windigos circled the castle above, neighing and thundering through the sky as they searched for a way in, but they couldn't seem to get past the edge of the intangible barrier around the castle. Their cries sounded distant.

"Adorable, aren't they?" said Discord mildly from somewhere behind him. "They remind me so much of myself when I was younger. So brash, so eager to see ponies suffering in entertaining ways." He let out a sigh. "It's a shame that they turned out to be so unimaginative, really. All I did was twist the background magic a little bit, make the path here a bit more confusing, and suddenly they're completely at a loss. Amateurs, the lot of them."

"And yet they're the ones who haven't been locked up in a throne room for several hundred years," said Tailspin, sounding faintly amused. Discord made a scandalized noise, but she ignored him. "Compass? You're sure you want to do this?"

Spike turned. All three of the ponies were wearing heavy cloaks and holding torches. Tailspin and Pith had pulled theirs up over their faces, but Compass Rose had left hers back, presumably to leave her horn free. She was squinting upward, towards the circling windigos. She was also shaking.

"Yes," she said. Her voice was surprisingly firm. "I'm sure. It's our best shot."

It was impossible to make out Tailspin's expression under her hood, but Spike could see enough to tell she was frowning. "I just don't want you to end up h-"

"If she thinks she can do it, let her do it," Pith said in his usual, even tones. "She's done the impossible twice already."

"A mare after my own heart," Discord said, grinning widely. He raised his clawed hand, fingers poised to snap, and raised an eyebrow towards Compass. "Say the word, madam."

"Not yet," said Compass quietly. "Let me... get ready."

She closed her eyes.


Compass Rose was rapidly becoming familiar with the twin sensations of panic and exhaustion. She was also beginning to realize that she worked at her best under pressure.

Over the course of her travels with the others, when lives were on the line, she had found strength and skill that she hadn't known she possessed. When the changelings attacked them in the Tangle, she had beaten them back with nothing but a spellbook as a weapon. When Tailspin had been at death's door, she had somehow, impossibly, managed to create a healing spell that even she didn't fully understand and successfully translate it for use by others. When the windigos had attacked, she had managed to find the path to Canterlot through impossible geometries and blinding, hostile snow.

Even asking Pith to break the resin around her horn had been a result of her newfound strength, in a way. She wouldn't have been able to stomach making that request before, she knew. Even now, she wasn't entirely sure how she had made herself go through with it, let alone how she had still managed to provide emergency care for Tailspin immediately afterward.

It wasn't a nice thought. Knowing that she was at her best when things were at their bleakest wasn't pleasant. But it was... bracing.

She just had to hope that her horn was still intact enough to allow her to cast the spell she had devised.

To her mild surprise, she wasn't too worried that her spell wouldn't work. She had felt firsthand the type of magic that the windigos used - the type of magic that they were made of. It was a cold, hungry, spiteful thing, strong as the blizzard they summoned. But it was also precarious, in a way. Fighting them wasn't a matter of power. It was a matter of finesse.

The problem wasn't in the spell, or in the power required. It was with her.

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind for the moment. One step at a time. Take it piece by piece.

Her senses had been dulled by the breaking of her horn. She could sense the magic within herself only dully, and she groped for it like a blind mare, trying to gather up as much of it as she could. Before, this would have been trivial. Now it was almost impossible, but she managed. Then it was just a matter of preparing the spell, crafting the raw magic into a coherent form.

You're one of us. You earned us.

It was ready.

Compass Rose opened her eyes, grimaced, and readied the spell. A weak, wispy green aura flickered into being around the remains of her horn.

"All right," she said. "Now."

Discord snapped his fingers.


There was the sense of the world twisting in on itself. Suddenly, the howling of the windigos seemed much closer.

Wind, sharp and biting, whistled across Spike's scales. Sleet hissed across his vision and stung his eye, forcing him to blink rapidly in an effort to clear his vision. When he managed it, he looked up.

The windigos were bearing down on the five of them, riding a cloud of swirling ice. They tossed their heads wildly, and the high, piercing shrieks they let out echoed throughout the city.

The temperature was already dropping. Hoarfrost was forming on his tail, and he could hear the groan and crack of shifting stone as the castle froze. But there was something else, now, something that he hadn't felt the last time that the windigos had attacked.

It was as if the cold that the windigos conjured were inside him. He could feel it creeping inward. Worse, he could feel it spreading out. The sensation reminded him of the slow burning that he had felt when he thought the changelings had captured Twilight, the feeling of something powerful and inevitable swelling up from inside his own blood, but this was somehow worse.

The open wounds from Queen Chrysalis' attack felt as though someone had stabbed him with knives of ice.

"Compass?" It was Tailspin shouting, her voice barely audible over the screaming of the incoming blizzard.

"I'm-" The unicorn gave a slight gasp, and Spike saw that she was shaking with effort. "I'm trying." Her horn was glowing steadily now, but there was a network of cracks visible on it. They spidered across the remaining surface, pulsing with the same green as her aura. It looked as if it were about to explode.

"We're running out of time," Tailspin shouted again. She moved up to stand beside the unicorn, leaning against her as if to offer support. "Are you sure you can-"

"No!" Compass' eyes were shut again, and the cracks on her horn seemed to be widening. "But I'm going to try!"

For almost three full seconds she stood, trying to force out the spell in silence. The windigos were nearly on them now. Spike could see their manes flying in the wind. Every shriek left his ears ringing.

"I can do this!" Compass' eyes snapped open, and she squinted at her targets. "I just - have to push - a little harder-"

Despite her look of exertion, the green aura around her horn began to fade.

"Okay, time's up!" screamed Tailspin. "Discord, get us out of h-"

The world condensed itself into a single point, twisted around, turned inside-out, and went black. Spike screamed. No sound came out.

A moment later, the universe sprang back into existence. The next thing he felt was a sudden, sharp impact as he collapsed against one of the ruined, frozen hulks of Canterlot's former residences. He didn't hit particularly hard - he had apparently sprung into existence just a foot or so above the ground - but he felt disoriented nonetheless. Discord's method of teleportation was much less enjoyable than Twilight's, and Spike had never particularly cared even for that.

He heaved himself to his feet, stared around at the streets of Canterlot, and grated, "Discord, why are we still here?"

Discord was standing in the middle of the street, still holding Pith's stretcher in one hand. They, at least, seemed to have arrived upright. Tailspin and Compass, however, were still trying to pick themselves up.

The chimera was staring at his fingers as if he'd never seen them before. "I appear," he said slowly, "to be having some technical difficulties. Perhaps I am a bit more under the weather than even I realized. Or perhaps all of this background magic-"

"Just get us out of here!" shouted Tailspin. The pegasus had managed to regain her footing, and was pointing down the street with one hoof. "They're coming!"

It was almost impossible to tell what part of the city she was indicating. Here, things were so mixed up that Spike wasn't even certain of the distance between himself and the others. But even through the eye-twisting haze of magic, they could all see the windigos bearing down on them once more.

Before anyone could say anything more, the world folded in on itself again. This time he managed to keep from screaming, and he kept his feet when they reappeared in another street that looked almost identical to the one that they had just left.

"Discord!"

The draconequus just lowered his clawed hand, gulped, and murmured, "Oh, dear."

The screams of the windigos echoed around them. Spike wheeled on the spot and saw the herd of them barreling down the twisted city streets towards them like an oncoming freight train.

Without really thinking about it, he stepped to the side, placing his scaled bulk between the windigos and the others. "Compass!" His voice came out as a bark. "Stay behind me! And get that spell working!"

"Spike, you can't fight them," Tailspin shouted. "You have to use magic! You said so yourself!"

The dragon bared his fangs. The ice in his veins was screaming at him. He couldn't have backed down if he wanted to. There was finally something in front of him that he could fight. One of his problems finally had an answer that he understood. Despite the cold, despite the pain in his body, despite the feeling of being frozen from the inside out, Spike grinned.

"I'm going to try."

He dug his talons into the ice beneath his feet, braced himself against the building wind, and roared.

And the world went white.

27: What Bound Them

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Dragon.

Spike had always known, intellectually, what the word meant. Dragons were dangerous creatures, all scales and teeth and fire. They were beings of anger, greed, jealousy, and hate. Their lives were literally paced by how much of those traits they exhibited. The angrier they became, the more precious the things they hoarded, the larger and stronger they could grow.

Now, for the first time in his life, he embraced it.

In the Everfree forest, he had been unable to stop himself from changing. It had been an automatic reaction. Twilight Sparkle was in danger. Twilight Sparkle was precious to him. His body had answered without any actual conscious decision taking place, the same way that it had on the day that Rarity died.

This time, he was calling it up deliberately. That terrified him, but he did it anyway. He couldn't deny the feeling bubbling up inside his chest.

His wings were broken. His scales, shattered. His bones, fractured. His eye, so swollen that he thought it might never open again. His wounds, open once more. His body, full of the sensation of dark, dark ice spreading through his veins, radiating outward from the rents in his scales where Queen Chrysalis' magic had struck.

Rarity, taken from him in the most brutal way possible.

Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack, Shining Armor, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, all dead and buried, alongside countless others.

Ponyville, lost to the mists of time.

Canterlot, reduced to rubble and ice.

Celestia, murdered by her own sister.

Luna, consumed by insanity.

Twilight Sparkle, gone.

For the first time in his life, Spike the dragon wanted to hurt something.

Before, it had been a reflex. He couldn't have stopped himself from burning the changelings in the Everfree Forest if he had tried. It was simply what dragons did when something precious to them was threatened. Even then, he had made the conscious decision to not kill Queen Chrysalis when he had the opportunity.

Now, he chose it. He could feel the raw, seething anger welling up within him, and he couldn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it. He wanted to get it out, to purge it from his mind in any way he could. He wanted to take that rage and channel it into his claws and teeth and flame and simply hurt something until he had taken all of the pain inside himself and forced it out onto his target.

He wasn't proud of it. He didn't want to feel that way. But now the windigos were here. They were offering themselves to him as receptacles for his anger.

Spike, said a very, very small voice in the back of his mind, I'm so sorry.

He still didn't know whether or not the windigos could be physically killed, but he remembered the feeling of impact the first time that he had swung at them. Even if they couldn't be beaten, they could be slowed.

As the stampeding forms of the windigos bore down on him, unsure of whether he was doing it out of anger or fear or sorrow or some other emotion entirely, Spike reared up onto his back legs, spread his claws, and screamed at them.


Compass felt the world spin around her as the blast of icy wind plucked her from her hooves and hurled her, end-over-end, into the sleet. She hit hard, bounced, hit again, skidded to a halt as ice and stone alike battered at her already-sore body. The threads of the spell spun away into the corners of her mind once more.

She was wearing a thick cloak and thicker boots, but already she felt frozen to the core. Every pained breath caused the air in front of her face to fog heavily for a moment, just before the steam was subsumed into the rest of the storm. The blizzard the windigos had brought with them reduced visibility around her to the point that she could barely make out her own hooves if she squinted. No sound but the rushing of the storm reached her ears, save for the occasional shriek from the windigos.

No, that wasn't entirely true. There was another sound, but Compass Rose did her best to shut it out. It was an oily little whisper, right next to her ear, that she could somehow make out over the wind. It said things to her that she didn't even want to contemplate in the safety of her own mind, let alone hear spoken aloud.

The same voice had spoken to her the first voice the windigos had attacked, before they reached the safety of the castle. It wormed its way into her mind, found all the things that she didn't want to think about, and brought them up. It felt the same way that the magic in the castle had: hungry, corrosive, wrong.

She attempted to push it aside and get herself upright. There were others who needed her help. They were counting on her to cast the spell.

you could have done it already if he hadn't crippled you

Even though she had only been on the ground for a few seconds, the ice had begun to set in. She heard a crackling noise as she wrenched her right fore hoof free of it and stood up. And the ice was inside her now, too, the same way it had been the first time. The windigos were reaching into her. They were feeding.

She swung her head back and forth, looking for any sign of the others. There was nothing but blinding snow and the shadows of the windigos circling her.

Once again, she felt herself slipping past simple panic and moving into the oddly calm waters beyond, where each of her thoughts rang with impossible clarity.

Find the path.

The Elements of Harmony. Even though she had never seen them, they were the answer. They were separate, but one. There was something that connected them, a thread of magic that kept them united.

Eyes shut, Compass Rose reached out with her dulled, clumsy magic and found the thread that bound them. And, at the other end, there was a pull.

She staggered off.


The windigos didn't come to him. The ice came first, forming around Spike's legs in thick layers, trying to pin him to the spot. He heaved with all of the strength that his anger brought and snapped through it without even trying.

The voice in his head was screaming now. Every painful memory, every repressed hurt he had ever felt, was being dredged up and recited to him in a litany of pain. He didn't know if it was his own mind doing it, or if the windigos were summoning it up, or if it even mattered. He just knew that his rage was still rising.

He lunged forward, turning his scream into a roar. The blizzard drank and deadened the sound as he brought his talons around, swiping at the closest shape, anticipating the shock of impact that he had felt before.

It never came. His claws passed through the spirit as if it didn't exist, and it galloped away unharmed. The shriek it emitted seemed to mock him as it went.

He spun, lashed out again as another of the herd came too close. Again, his claws passed through it as if it weren't there.

You can free her from all this. Chrysalis' voice. Images of the castle, of Twilight cocooned and helpless, danced in front of his eyes. His claws smashed into stone, tore it apart effortlessly.

The last of the old guard. Discord's misshapen face, grinning at him, mocking his loss, piling more and more injuries onto him even as he claimed to be helping. Spike's tail lashed out, ignoring the scream of injured bones and bruised muscle. A building, only partially visible in the storm, collapsed on itself from the impact. You ponies are so predictable.

He'll lose them all eventually. Princess Celestia, calm and collected as always, with that same damn soft smile that she meant to be comforting but which only emphasized the fact that she didn't care the same way he did, that she didn't feel the pain he had when Rarity was laid to rest.

He roared to the sky, spitting green flame, still thrashing at the windigos. His movements were wild, uncontrolled, desperate; he needed a target, and he was being denied. The pain in him was boiling up and he couldn't keep it in any more, oh please just give me some way to make it stop-

I promise. I promise, I promise, I promise.

The rising cacophony in his head was gone, replaced only by those words. They rang around his head like a condemnation. They hurt more than he could possibly describe.

She promised.

She lied.

Now the sensation of something rising within him wasn't metaphorical. He could feel it in his throat, an obstruction forcing its way upward, like the force of his fire but oh so much more painful. He tasted bile, felt his throat burn and ache, felt something thick and tar-like leaking from between his shattered teeth.

The wounds Queen Chrysalis had left felt like they had been reopened, as if someone had stabbed him right through those rents in his scales with blades of ice.

He had to get it out.

This time, when he opened his mouth to spit flame at his attackers, no green fire came. Instead, something else poured out of him, something black and smoky, something that looked like flame but flowed like tar and clung to what it struck and sizzled and melted and corroded. He hated it, hated the bitter taste, hated the unnatural feel, hated the way it burned him from the inside. He wanted it to stop, but every time he tried, he felt as though it were pooling inside him, and that was worse.

So he forced it out in great, heavy gouts, turning the white snow black and scouring away the stone. Around him, the windigos shrieked louder.


Ahead of her, Compass could hear screaming.

It wasn't the howling of the winds or the unnatural keening of the windigos. It was a pony's voice, caught somewhere between terror and anger. There weren't any words to it. It was the scream of someone who couldn't find any words that could express what they were feeling. She pushed towards it.

It was Tailspin. The pegasus was standing, crouched low, beside a figure half-buried in the snow. It took her a moment to realize that it was Pith Helmet, and for a moment, she thought that he might be dead, but then he lifted his head and she let out a sigh of relief. The stretcher was gone, as was his torch. He just couldn't stand up.

Compass forced her way through the blizzard towards them, blinking rapidly to keep her vision clear in the blinding sleet. As she approached, she saw one of the windigos swoop down towards them, causing the ice beneath it to grow even thicker. Tailspin screamed again and reared up on her hind legs to kick at it.

It didn't look like she had landed a very solid blow, but the thing shrieked and wheeled away.

"Tailspin!"

She didn't think that her voice would be strong enough to reach, but the pegasus turned to face her anyway. Compass couldn't make out her expression through the snow, but a moment later, she found herself being pulled into a one-legged embrace as Tailspin pulled her close.

"Where's Spike?" She was shouting into Compass' ear, trying to make herself audible through the storm.

"I don't know! I haven't seen him!"

"Can you cast the spell?"

Compass flinched, but forced out a reply anyway. "No! I tried! Felt like my horn was going to break again!"

"Then what do we do?"

Tailspin released her grip on Compass, turned away, and heaved Pith to his feet. The stallion's coat was covered in frost, but he managed to keep from shaking, and even stood on his own despite his broken leg. He moved in to join the other two.

"We find Spike," he shouted. "And then we run for it."

"What about Discord?" Compass cast her gaze about at the circling windigos and pressed a bit closer to the other two.

"Can't find him," answered Tailspin.

Compass blinked. "We can't just leave him!"

"He's probably run off already!" came Pith's reply. "Focus on us!"

Compass opened her mouth to reply, to try and argue, but she was interrupted by another shout from Tailspin. The pegasus' sudden movement as she kicked out at another windigo almost sent Pith sprawling to the ground again, but he somehow managed to stay on his hooves despite having to keep his broken leg off the ground.

"No time!" Tailspin shouted. "Let's move! Find Spike!"

Compass clenched her teeth. There was no time. They had to keep moving, or they would be frozen solid. Even as she thought it, she had to wrench one of her hooves away from the street as the encroaching ice worked its way up past her boots.

"Fine!" she screamed. "Follow me!"

She reached out, searching for the thread again. When she found it, she gripped it with all her might and set off into the storm once again.


Spike wasn't sure what he was trying to do any more. He wanted so desperately to strike the windigos circling him, but his claws had no effect and the black sludge that came up instead of his flame only clung to them for an instant before disappearing into their spectral forms. He wasn't sure whether it hurt them or made them stronger.

But he kept struggling. Even as the temperature plummeted still further, he struggled. Even as the ice piled up on his scales and the weight became too much to bear, he struggled. When it forced him to the ground under its crushing pressure, when he felt it forming a solid shell around his body that he just couldn't seem to break, he kept thrashing, trying to snap through it with every ounce of strength left in him.

There wasn't much of that. He felt drained, like every mote of energy in him was being smothered in snow. The whiteness of the blizzard was being replaced by blackness at the edges of his vision, and he knew he was close to passing out. His thoughts were no longer coherent. They were being smashed to pieces by the clamoring voice in the back of his mind.

-she lied she lied she lied she lied-

Even calling up the black flame was too much effort now. He opened his mouth, tried to force it up, but was only answered by a thin trickle of bile that hissed past his teeth and scalded the stone beneath him as it pooled. He could feel it there inside, replacing the familiar, comforting warmth of his natural flame with acid, but he could no longer fight to force it out.

He felt his good eye begin to drift closed. The last thing he saw before it shut was the windigos moving in.

And then there were hooves on the scales of his chest, trying weakly to shake him awake.

"Spike!" It was Compass Rose's voice. His eyelid twitched, but he couldn't summon the energy to lift it.

There was a series of impacts around his back. He felt them only dimly, and even less dimly registered that somepony was attempting to carve him out of the ice. He felt too drained to care.

He didn't even feel cold any more.

"Spike, please!" Compass sounded as though she were sobbing. "We need you!"

Princess Celestia's face swam into his mind's eye, flanked by the staring ponies who had attended Rarity's funereal procession. We need you to be strong now, Spike.

Everypony needed something from him. They always had.

Number One Assistant.

There was a brief flare of anger again as he thought about all the ponies that had demands for him. They all wanted him to give something, and he always had. A shoulder to cry on, a helping hand, a few moments of his time. Years of his life. His heart. His trust. And the world had done nothing but rob him in return.

But even that anger faded in the face of the cold.

"It's no use!" Tailspin's voice. "The ice is too thick! I can't get him out!"

Spike felt a sudden sensation of cold along the underside of his neck and his jaw. He hadn't realized that he was lowering himself to the ground, but he was there now, all the same. His body stretched out along the street and waited for the ice to creep over it.

There was more than one set of hooves against him now, and he realized that all three of them - Pith was there, too, apparently - had gathered around his head and were attempting to shake him awake.

Tailspin was screaming at him. "Damn it, Spike, we're not leaving you here! Get up!"

He debated trying to find the energy to reply, then decided that it wasn't worth it.

The coating of ice had nearly reached his head now. He could feel it pressing down on the scales of his neck. There was another series of dull impacts.

One of them was trying to dig him out. He wondered why.

Partners.

The word seemed important, for some reason. Even through the screaming in the back of his brain, it echoed. And, accompanying it, there was a dim spark of color: a brilliant sky blue.

His eye flickered open.

Tailspin was there, standing directly in front of his snout and shouting at him. He could no longer hear her words over the howling of the blizzard. The wind was too strong.

But he could see the golden necklace under her cloak, and the sparkling, heart-shaped ruby set into it.

He lifted his gaze to her face, and saw that she was crying while she shouted to him. There were tracks of ice across her muzzle where the tears had frozen.

Slowly, he gathered his legs beneath him, summoned up what strength he could, and heaved himself upward.


Tailspin danced back a few steps as Spike began to move. The dragon looked horrible, even through the ice; there was something black and tarry seeping from the gaps in his scales, and from between his teeth. There was enough ice around his back legs that they weren't visible at all, and the rest was growing thicker by the moment. Even with his size and strength, it looked like an impossible burden.

But somehow, slowly, he managed to force himself upward. His body shook with the effort of it. She could see his scales shifting as muscles rippled beneath them, shaking with the titanic effort involved. Every crack of the ice was like a gunshot, deafening even above the storm.

Stone cracked under his talons. Around them, the windigos screamed, and Tailspin could see the ice piling higher and higher as they tried to keep him pinned. But he kept rising.

She wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually Spike was standing upright. He tore his back legs free of the ice with a sound like an explosion and staggered towards her.

Compass Rose slipped and slid across the stone to stand with her. A moment later, Pith Helmet limped over to stand on her other side.

Spike raised one claw and, with great care, moved it forward to rest the tip against the ruby necklace.

There was a flash of blinding red. When Tailspin managed to clear her vision, she saw Spike raise his head, open his mouth, and breathe forth a lance of scarlet flame at the circling windigos. The heat from it was enough to instantly turn the ice around them to steam, but she felt no pain. It was like a gentle, warm breath against her coat.

The windigos screeched again and again as the dragon turned his fire on each of them in turn. She watched in silence as they disintegrated beneath the ruby-red torrent, taking the blizzard with them.

When it finally ended, when Spike finally shut his jaws and let the flame die away, the four of them were left standing in the middle of the ruins of Canterlot, with no windigos in sight. The ice had gone, leaving nothing but ruined stone around them. There were still storm clouds overhead, but they were just that and no more. There was no sign of the sleet that had blinded them just moments ago.

Spike turned back to them and stared for a moment. Tailspin saw that he was swaying, and the black tar was still oozing from his reopened wounds.

There was a series of creaking, popping sounds as he began to shrink back down to his normal size. When he was back to being on eye level with Pith, he stopped, swallowed hard, and said, "I'm sorry."

And then he toppled. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

28: Disharmony

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It wasn't often that Discord wanted to sit still. He usually hated it. The lack of activity just grated on his nerves, even if, technically speaking, he could be sitting absolutely motionless in a physical sense and still bouncing off the walls in a magical one. Sitting still just felt wrong.

But now he was perched on the ruined widow's walk of what had been one of Canterlot's finest manors, and could have easily been mistaken for a statue. Or a gargoyle, at least, given his twisted features.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been there before he heard the distant clop-clop of approaching hooves. There was only one set of them. He wasn't in the least bit surprised.

"Discord?"

It was the green unicorn, the one with the pinched features and far-too-early crow's feet. Oh, and the broken horn, of course. Of course it would be her. No, not in the least bit surprised.

Just... disappointed.

"Discord? Where are you?"

She was staring around at broken windows, as if expecting him to be on one of the ground levels. He sighed inwardly. Nopony ever thought to look up. They were all so dreadfully simple.

Still, he had already cast in his lot. May as well get it over with.

He fixed an utterly perfect, utterly fake smile onto his features, stepped forward off the balcony, and found himself behind the searching unicorn. When he spoke, his voice was its usual airy, carefree self.

"You rang?"


Compass Rose jumped at the sound of his voice. She had been expecting it, in a way, but that didn't keep it from startling her. She spun around to face Discord and fought to get her heartbeat under control.

The draconequus was still wearing that same smug, self-satisfied expression that he always did. He didn't show any signs of injury, or even of worry. He just looked like he always did.

Granted, that was still horrible to look at - even without the fact that his existence made her head swim, Discord was still a twisted mockery of a pony - but she found herself breathing a sigh of relief anyway.

"There you are," she said. "I was beginning to think you'd run off. Or that the windigos had..."

"Of course not," said Discord jovially. He took a few steps along the street, almost skipping as he went. "Didn't I say that they remind me of myself when I was younger? They wanted to take the time to catch up, as it were. Honestly, it was rather dull, as they aren't exactly the greatest conversationalists, but I have never been one to judge."

Compass blinked, then raised an eyebrow. "You spoke to them?"

"Well, yes." Discord stopped and gave her a quizzical look over his shoulder. "Didn't you? They do tend to repeat themselves a bit, but they do so love to talk. Surely you heard them as well?"

Compass shuddered at the memory of the oily whispers that had snaked their way into her brain during the blizzard. "Yes," she said. "But I tried to ignore it."

"Oh, it's never good to ignore them." Discord wagged a finger at her. "After all, they only tell you what you're already thinking. What have I been saying about living in denial?"

The unicorn tilted her head to one side. "Then what did they say to you?"

There was the most infinitesimal of pauses before Discord shrugged. "Not much," he said. His voice still retained its usual sound of amusement. "After all, what could I possibly be angry about? Now, you - I imagine somepony like you has quite a few things to be upset and afraid over."

Compass eyed him for a moment. He was avoiding anything approaching a direct answer again, but he always did that. He seemed as smug as ever, and there was no sign of injury. And yet...

She shook her head and said, "No. Almost nothing to be angry about. Worried and afraid, yes. But not angry."

"Oh, really?" Discord leaned forward, grinning like a lunatic, until his picket fence of yellowed teeth was mere inches from her muzzle. One of his claws came up and traced a line along the top of her head, stopping just above her horn. She managed to keep herself from pulling away, even as he spoke again and the stink of his rotten breath rolled over her. "Not even about losing this?"

She swallowed hard, fighting the sudden dryness in her mouth. "No. I told him to do it. I wish it hadn't happened, but I don't blame him." Finally, the ache grew too much for her to bear, and she raised a hoof to push his claw away. "I'm just worried that it'll end up with somepony getting hurt because I can't use magic any more. Like it almost did here." She paused, an image of Spike's oozing wounds drifting through her mind, and added, "Did."

"The purple one?" Discord straightened up and waved one hand dismissively. "He'll be fine. Dragon and all that. And he's a tough one, even for a dragon. Saved the Crystal Kingdom when he was just a baby, you know. Got a stained-glass window dedicated to him and everything." He laughed. "Of course, it's nothing on the ones I had in that one back there-" he jerked a thumb towards the distant castle "-but still, an impressive achievement."

Compass blinked. "Spike has a memorial dedicated to him?"

"Of course," said Discord, with a disinterested yawn. He let himself fall backward and lounged there, suspended in midair as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Several, in fact. And a statue, assuming dear Cadence hasn't torn it down in a fit of pique by now. He was quite the celebrity back then, actually. Younger brother and chief confidant of the Princess of Magic, Ponyville's resident dragon, savior of the Crystal Kingdom, and any number of other titles. I believe he was formally knighted at some point, though I never paid much attention to that sort of thing."

"And what about you?" Compass sat back on her haunches and looked up at him curiously.

"Hm?" Discord blinked. "What about me?"

"You said you had some dedicated to you as well," she said, waving a hoof. "Were you ever knighted?"

The chimera let out a harsh laugh, almost a bark. "Of course not," he said, grinning still more widely. "Why would anypony knight me? I am, after all, Discord. Spirit of disharmony, Lord of Chaos, Prince of Madness, et cetera."

"But you saved Equestria," Compass pointed out. "You stopped the moon."

Discord raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And," she continued firmly, "you're reformed, aren't you? You lived in the castle with the princesses. You're helping us now, even though you're weak. You tried to stop Nightmare Moon. You tried to stop all of this."

He laughed again. There was a twist of space, and then his paw was draped around her shoulders as he pulled her against his side. "Oh, my dear Compass Rose," he said, pinching her cheek with his other hand, "you have a lot to learn about public relations. Just because I did the occasional good deed doesn't mean I was liked. My memorials commemorate the centuries I spent spreading chaos across Equestria, lording it over all you little ponies like - well, like a god, in fact. As it turns out, some ponies tend to hold a grudge about that kind of thing."

She shook herself out of his grasp and looked up at him, frowning. "So that's what they said to you, then," she said. "The windigos."

Again, the most infinitesimal of pauses. Then Discord laughed and skipped away, shaking his head. "Ah, now, Miss Kindness," he said, in entirely bright and cheerful tones, "just because you're a bit more tolerable than the others doesn't mean I want you prying into my private business. We don't know one another that well just yet. Besides, don't we have places to be, magic to eat, lives to save, that sort of thing?"

And he danced off, humming to himself. Compass stared at his retreating back for a moment, then shook her head and set off after him.


For what felt like the hundredth time, Spike woke to discover new and interesting varieties of pain.

There was his sore throat, for starters. It felt as though it had been scraped raw. So did the inside of his mouth, but the pain there seemed less pronounced because he was too distracted by the horrible, bitter taste on his tongue.

All of that paled in comparison to the feel of the wounds Queen Chrysalis had inflicted on him. Even immediately after she had struck him, they hadn't felt like this. Now they subjected him to a horrible combination of sensations, like they were simultaneously being torn open, growing so cold that they were numb, and rotting away.

He took a moment to try and force the pain down, trying to push it out of his mind. They weren't small injuries, but he was a dragon, and they weren't large enough to kill him. It only partially worked.

There were voices nearby. Pith Helmet and Tailspin were talking to one another in low voices. He couldn't make out the words, but after a while, Tailspin laughed, and Pith gave what sounded like an embarrassed snort.

Spike opened his good eye.

The two ponies were sitting a few feet away. Tailspin was jabbing Pith in the side with one hoof and grinning slyly at him, while the stallion was obviously trying not to laugh, despite his look of embarrassment.

Spike gave a grunt and lifted his head. Immediately, the two of them turned to look at him, and Tailspin leapt to her hooves, her grin vanishing. Now she looked concerned.

"Heya, Spike," she said as she trotted up to him. Her voice had a note of forced cheer in it. "How you feeling?"

He blinked slowly at her, and she gave him a slightly sheepish smile. "Well, I've got to ask, right? It's not every day you start leaking oil." She lifted a hoof and pointed towards his chest.

The dragon turned his head to look at his scales. There was indeed something black and viscous oozing from his wounds. He had been half expecting it, but it still worried him. He let out a low sound in the back of his throat and looked back to her.

"Awful."

She let her false smile fade and moved a bit closer. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I don't know." Spike shrugged, then winced as his scales moved painfully. "I think the windigos did something to me. Or their magic reacted with Queen Chrysalis'. Or something." He hissed softly as one of his wounds twinged. "It... hurts. And it feels wrong. But I don't think I'm going to die just yet."

The pegasus gave a heavy sigh and dropped into a sitting position. "We need to get you to a doctor," she said. Then she paused, glanced over her shoulder at Pith, and continued, "We all need to see a doctor. As soon as possible, preferably. I've done my best with the big guy's leg, but it's not set properly and I know it. Compass can't keep pushing herself like she has been, you're, well-" she waved a hoof at his wounds "-bleeding tar, and I've got no idea what kind of magic I'm even living off of here."

Spike looked down at the ruby and shook his head. "Neither do I," he said, "but I don't think it's harmful. When I touched it, and all that red fire came up, I felt..." He searched for the right word for a few seconds, then gave up and said, "Better. I think it's become magical because of what I felt about Rarity and all the rest of my friends. It's not bad magic."

Tailspin nodded. "I guessed. But I'd still rather have myself checked over, along with the rest of you. We just have to hope we can get out of these mountains before the changelings take out all the fortresses. At least two of us are in need of expert care, which means military."

"Speaking of which," Pith said suddenly, "I think Compass just found our ride."

"That's me," said Discord brightly. He and Compass Rose were approaching from one of the side streets. "Chaos Taxi Services, Incorporated. The highest position in life any spirit of disharmony could ever aspire for."

Spike glanced down at Compass Rose. The unicorn was, for some reason, frowning heavily at Pith. He didn't seem to notice. He just kept eyeing Discord with the same suspicious look.

"I'd thought you'd be long gone by now," he said flatly. "Left me tied to that stretcher in the middle of a blizzard."

"Left? Never." Discord placed one paw over his chest, looking hurt. "I thought we had all agreed we're on the same side here. In case you hadn't noticed, the windigos were, to my shame, a bit more dangerous than I had anticipated. They separated us deliberately, after they kept me from getting us all off the mountaintop. They whisked me away for a little heart-to-heart."

Spike's one open eye narrowed. "Why would they do that?"

Discord grinned maliciously at him. "For the same reason they did it to you, Spikey boy. Better pickings. Aged like fine wine to boot." He wiggled a claw towards the wounds in the dragon's hide. "And it looks like they did a number on you indeed."

Spike suppressed the growl that rose up in his throat and settled for shaking his head. "Fine," he said. "Fine. They stopped you from taking us out of here. Can you do it now?"

"Not until we know whether or not he can heal himself," said Compass sharply. "That was the whole point of this, remember? And it's still our best shot."

"Quite," said Discord, nodding. "So. Assuming that you're all as sick of wasting time as I am-" Spike rolled his eye "-let's get on with this."

Tailspin stood up and trotted over to Pith. "Ready when you are," she said, as she helped the stallion to his hooves.

Discord grinned. "Then let's get started."

And he snapped his fingers.


When the world came back into focus, Spike found himself standing on top of a bluff overlooking a magically-distorted valley. Or, from another angle, he was standing in a valley and staring upward at a towering cliff. He tried to fight down the feeling of nausea that accompanied the dual vision, shook himself, and looked over towards Discord.

Everyone else did the same. The draconequus was standing at the very edge of the bluff, taking deep breaths and grinning. After a moment, he thumped his paw against his chest and said, "Ah, yes! Smell that mountain air. That's the stuff. Just the ticket for a recovering constitution such as mine."

"Well?" said Compass, taking a few steps forward to stand beside him. "Can you do it?"

The chimera smiled at her and patted the top of her head. "Already started, my dear. It's not exactly haute cuisine, but it is working." He flared his nostrils and sucked in another deep breath, then smacked his lips. "Ah... not a patch on what I used to have at my disposal, but it's far better than nothing. Like farm food. It's bland, but there's a lot of it. No offense to old Applejack's cooking, of course."

Compass broke into a wide, uncontrollable grin. "So it's going to work?" she said. Spike recognized the inflection in her voice. She sounded like Twilight always had after a breakthrough in her research. "You'll be able to stop the changelings?"

Discord stroked his goatee, looking thoughtful. "Hm. Possibly." One of his claws tapped against the longest of his fangs, making a soft clinking sound. "It's really an issue of time. If I had a week, perhaps, or a month, I might be able to gather up enough of this to do... almost anything. Given old Chryssi's timetable, though, I'm not sure."

Compass only looked slightly worried by this. "But it's a possibility."

"Everything's possible when I'm involved," said Discord airily. "That's the whole point of it, in fact. But I'll need time. As much time as you can give me."

"I thought we might have to do that," said Compass. She turned to face the rest of them, still smiling. "You see? We've got a chance. We can still do this, even without the Elements of Harmony. We just have to get back to the fortresses and tell them what's going on. If they know that Discord will be coming to help, they can plan around it. We can buy him the time he needs."

Spike snorted and eyed the chimera uneasily. He opened his mouth to say something, reconsidered, and shut it again.

"That's fine," said Pith, sounding skeptical, "but we've still got to get to the fortresses, and we're apparently on a range limit here."

"Not any more," said Discord brightly. "I'll need time to gather up enough to be comfortable confronting dear old Chryssi, but teleporting? Teleporting is easy. I've already got enough to send all of you halfway across the globe if I wanted to. Just say the word."

Pith frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Then Fort Maneholdt would be the best bet," he said. "Center of the cordon. Best place to go to get a message out."

"Your wish," said Discord, raising his claws, "is my command."

And he snapped his fingers, sending the four of them back into the void.

29: Battle Plans

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When the universe sprang back into existence, Spike only had a moment to gather his bearings before there was the sound of splintering wood and he found himself falling again.

This time, though, it was only a drop of a few feet, and he was able to stay upright when he hit the floor. Discord had somehow managed to materialize the four of them directly on top of a large, circular table which was, in turn, located in the center of a large, circular room. It had then promptly given way under their combined weight, leaving the four of them in a heap of wood, scales, papers, and hooves at the center of the wreckage. They were surrounded by silent, gaping ponies. Every one of them was wearing a military uniform.

Spike wondered whether or not Discord had planned this. It fit his idea of humor.

The ponies around them were shouting now, and a good number of them were getting to their hooves. A few had sprinted for the exits, where even more were attempting to force their way in. Those ones were wielding spears, so he assumed that they were guards of some sort.

He groaned and attempted to get to his feet again, only to be stopped by a pained groan from behind him. Pith Helmet had landed badly, and was now curled up in a sort of defensive position around his broken leg. Spike's movements had jostled it sharply. The stallion had his teeth clenched hard and was taking light, rapid breaths, almost gasps.

Tailspin was the first to get herself upright, and she turned immediately towards the onrushing guards. "Wait, wait, wait!" She raised one hoof. "Scout First Class Tailspin!"

The guards arranged themselves in a semicircle around the four new arrivals and leveled their spears at them. One of them, an earth pony mare who was rather larger than the rest, said, "Passcode?"

Tailspin blinked. "What day is it?"

"Thirteenth."

"Diamonds, then." Tailspin shook her head as the guard grunted and looked over her shoulder, towards the crowd of watchers.

"Captain? One of yours?"

A familiar-looking stallion with an orange coat stepped out of the group. Spike recognized him almost immediately as Long Road, but he looked rather more formal than he had before. He gave the three of them a critical look, frowned, then nodded to the guardsmare.

As one, all of the guards brought their spears back to a more neutral position. Spike gave a sigh of relief.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain?" An older-looking stallion with a set of stars across his lapels had stepped forward as well, and was eyeing the four of them critically. "I wasn't aware that the Reconnaissance Corps had any dragons among its ranks."

Long Road saluted smartly. "No, sir, General," he said. "This is the dragon that I reported having arrived at Fort McHoofry, sir, along with the scouting party I dispatched from same."

"Captain," Tailspin interrupted, as she helped Pith to his feet, "I apologize for interrupting, and I'll be available for debriefing in just a few minutes, but we're all in need of medical attention here."

"Understood, Scout." Long Road nodded curtly to her. "We'll get you all to the infirmary as soon as possible. Debriefing will be in half an hour."

"Might want it to be sooner than that, sir," grunted Pith. He was standing awkwardly, trying to keep any weight off of his broken leg. Spike saw that the splint had come loose, leaving it bent in several places that it shouldn't have been. The stallion had a glassy look in his eyes as he attempted to remain upright. "We have critical information regarding the changelings."

The general narrowed his eyes and gave Pith a suspicious look, then turned to face the rest of the assembled ponies. "I think we'll need a moment to get this room back in order anyway," he said sharply. "All of you, dismissed for now. Reconvene here in one hour. Communications has orders to remain open for you around the clock, so take this time to send whatever orders you need to."

They all saluted, though Spike noticed that quite a few were looking uneasy and confused as they turned to leave. After a few moments, they were left alone with the general, Captain Road, and a few guards who had remained by the doors.

"Right," said the general, turning back to them. "Medical it is. We'll debrief you there, assuming you don't have to be put under for treatment. We're a bit short on time here. Can he walk?" The last was accompanied by him pointing to Pith, who nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Slowly, but I can, sir."

"Good." The old stallion nodded, turned, and headed for the door. "This way, then. I want to know what's going on here."


Fort Maneholdt was a much more impressive construction than Fort McHoofry. Even in the scant few minutes that Spike had spent outside, he had seen a marked difference between the two. Fort Maneholdt, for one, was more crowded, both in terms of ponies and in terms of buildings, and the buildings in question were much larger than the ones he had seen before. Several of them were even made out of stone rather than wood.

They had been led immediately to an operating theater, accompanied by the sound of a unicorn's magically-amplified voice letting the rest of the encampment know that the dragon was not a threat. Now, Spike was lying on his side on a table while ponies in white uniforms busied themselves around him.

He had seen more operating rooms through other doors when they had entered; Fort Maneholdt's medical division seemed to have more resources than Fort McHoofry's as well. There were more doctors on hand as well. Three of them were around him alone, with at least one more checking up on each of his companions. Pith had two of them busy with his leg.

One of the healers assigned to Spike was a unicorn. He could feel their magic probing his wounds, studying him for any injuries hidden beneath the scales. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, exactly. Just unusual.

He kept his good eye focused on Captain Road and the older stallion. He was called General Tempo, and Spike noted with some interest that the stallion's cutie mark, rather than being anything military in nature, was a conductor's baton.

The general was scowling at Captain Road now. The captain, for his part, was trying to remain upright and composed when he very obviously just wanted to bolt for the nearest door.

Tempo gave a snort. "So you sent these three off on a 'routine' scouting mission," he said. "I suppose you didn't think it necessary to report that they were explicitly accompanying the dragon, and this entirely routine scouting mission was taking place to investigate intel received from said dragon?"

"Sir." Road saluted, keeping his gaze determinedly fixed on a point some distance above the general's head. "No, sir. The dragon left on his own account. I merely authorized a scouting expedition on my own initiative, sir. We have very little intel on the mountains, and-"

"Stow it, Captain," snapped Tempo. "I'm not here for the runaround. You gave an incomplete report because you'd have been tied up in red tape for six months before this ever got authorized above-board. I know it, you know it, so stop trying to hide it and just give me the facts. What were they actually looking for?"

Captain Road opened his mouth, obviously searching for words, but didn't say anything for several seconds. Spike, more to spare the stallion any further vitriol from his superior than anything else, said, "Canterlot."

Tempo rounded on him. "And what," he said, "is Canterlot?" His voice was less angry now, but he still sounded as though he wasn't about to react kindly to any further stalling attempts.

"A city," Spike answered flatly. "From when I was young. It used to be the capitol of Equestria." He paused. "That's what we used to call this place. Canterlot was the center of magical learning back then. We thought we might find something useful there, to stop the changelings."

"Did this 'something useful' turn up to actually be there, then?" asked Tempo, raising an eyebrow. "You did say you had critical information."

Spike paused, then said slowly, "Not... exactly." He was about to continue when he heard the doctors moving around him begin to whisper among themselves. A moment later, there was a sudden, intensely relaxing sensation enveloping his body. It reminded him of the times that Rarity had dragged him to the spa. All the aches and pains that had been building up for the past few days seemed to melt away in an instant. He couldn't stop his gaze from drifting out of focus, or the contented sigh that followed.

The general stamped a hoof. "Get on with it, colt," he said sharply. "We're on a strict time limit here. You and your associates turned up in the middle of a war council, in case you hadn't noticed. We've got a defense to plan. Talk fast."

Spike blinked rapidly for a moment, then shook his head. He could feel the swelling around his left eye receding. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had his depth perception back. It was so tempting to just lie down and go to sleep while the wonderful, warm sensation coiled around him, but he forced himself to focus.

"It wasn't," he said. "We were there looking for the Elements of Harmony. Long story short, a powerful weapon from my time. There are six pieces, each of which can only be used by a single pony. They're selected by magic. Don't ask me how. If you have all six of them, though, and each is held by their chosen bearer, there's almost nothing they can't do. Queen Chrysalis wouldn't even have been a threat."

Tempo frowned. "But they weren't there," he said. "So what's this critical information?"

Spike let out a low rumble as something in his right arm, something that he hadn't even realized was dislocated, popped back into place. "Two things," he said, as he flexed his fingers experimentally. "One, we found out who can use the Elements." He tilted his head briefly towards the beds that the other three were lying on. "Compass, Pith, and Tailspin are each bearers for two of the six, so if we can find them, we'll be able to put them to use."

The stallion made a thoughtful sound. "Noted. What's the other thing?"

"Getting to that." Spike arched his back slightly as he felt some of his broken scales begin to knit themselves back together. Then he winced as there was a brief, sharp pain in his broken wing. One of the doctors mumbled "sorry", and it was immediately replaced with more of the relaxing sensation.

"We didn't find the Elements," he continued, "but we did find something else. Er. Somepony, I guess I should say. An... ally."

Captain Road blinked. For a moment, it looked as though he was about to say something, but he stopped and looked to Tempo instead. The older stallion just stood there, obviously waiting for an explanation.

Spike sighed. "His name," he said, unable to keep the note of reluctance out of his voice, "is Discord. And he's from... my time. Before my time, even. He's one of the few things in the world I think is actually... well, eternal, I guess, or close to it."

More patient silence from the general.

"He's the spirit of disharmony," Spike went on, after a moment. "And he's... strong. Very strong. 'He can bend the world to his whims' strong. Or he was, anyway. He's a bit weaker now."

The stallion's eyebrow raised itself a little higher.

"But he's on our side," the dragon went on, a bit hurriedly. "And he can stop Queen Chrysalis if we buy enough time for him."

Now the general's eyes narrowed. "If he's so powerful, why do we need to buy time?"

Spike sighed. The warm feeling was running itself over his wings now. He didn't dare turn his head to actually look - some part of him felt that this would somehow jinx it - but he thought he could feel his ruined wingflaps being stitched back together by the doctor's magic.

"Because he's weaker than he used to be, like I said," he explained. "He's up in the mountains right now, healing himself. He's... eating the raw magic that's all trapped up there, or something. I don't know exactly how to explain it."

"Sir, if I can speak freely," said Tailspin, raising herself up onto her forelegs, "I think that I can explain this. I know what sort of questions you're going to want to ask."

Tempo nodded to her. "Go ahead, Scout."

Tailspin saluted. The doctors around her had moved away to join those at the other tables, apparently satisfied that she was in no real physical distress. "Spike is over eight hundred years old at the minimum, sir. Probably much more than that. As strange as some of this might sound, I've seen the evidence of it personally. Everything he's said, I'll back him up on."

She took a deep breath. "Regarding the Elements: they exist, they are strong, and I've seen some things that confirm that we have some ties to them. Some old enchantments reacting consistently to my presence, for example. And Discord himself confirms that we are the bearers. Regarding Discord: he's real, he's essentially a god, and yes, from what I can tell, he's on our side, even if he's a bit... crazed." She shook her head. "We don't know how long it'll take for him to gather up all the power he needs, but once he does, I don't think there's a single thing in the world that could possibly stop him, General. The changelings won't stand a chance. As for how he got weakened, and how I can convince you that he's on our side, well, the one who took away his powers was the Mare in the Moon."

Tempo blinked at that, but Tailspin didn't pause. "Spike knew her personally, sir. The Mare, I mean. Before she became what she is. She used to be one of the rulers of Equestria, but there was an... incident with dark magic. If it weren't for Discord, the entire world would have been destroyed. But Tw- the Mare in the Moon went insane as a result, and cast a spell that locked him up and stripped him of his powers. She's his enemy as much as she is ours, sir. He wants revenge on her, and he's willing to help us because he thinks we can help him get that."

Spike lifted his head and glared at her. "Twilight is not our enemy," he said. It came out more harshly than he had intended.

Tailspin shot him a look of warning, but Tempo had already raised a hoof. "'Twilight'?"

"That's her name," Spike said, swinging his gaze around to face the old stallion again. He didn't feel relaxed any more. Tension was building up in his muscles, despite his best efforts to force it down. "She isn't your enemy. She isn't anyone's enemy. She's one of the greatest ponies I've ever known. She needs our help." He looked back to Tailspin. "If Discord thinks I'm helping him do anything to harm her, then he's going to be very disappointed." He clenched his teeth, too distracted to notice the fact that they were whole once again. "I'm here to help Twilight, not to hurt her."

Slowly, he became aware that every pony in the room was staring at him. Tailspin was wearing a pained expression. Compass looked concerned, Long Road looked almost frightened, and Pith just looked blank. Tempo was just giving him a long, appraising stare, as if sizing him up.

Spike opened his mouth to say something, found that he didn't have any more words, and shut it again.

After a few seconds, Tempo just grunted, then turned away and trotted off towards the other three. "Right," he said flatly, as if Spike's outburst hadn't happened. "Let's assume that this Discord is trustworthy, and as soon as he's got whatever he needs, we're home free. How long does he need?"

"You'd have to ask Compass Rose about that, sir," said Tailspin, saluting. "She was the one who came up with this plan."

The general turned to face Compass. "Well?"

The unicorn pushed herself upright and brought up a leg for her own, rather clumsier, salute. "I don't know exactly, sir," she said, frowning. "I don't think even he knows. He said 'as long as you can give me'. My plans were more along the lines of... theoretical battle plans, I suppose. Trying to maximize how long we can hold out, rather than attempting any sort of direct confrontation in an attempt to repulse the attack on their terms."

Tempo raised his eyebrow once again. "And you came up with...?"

"That depends entirely on how many unicorns we have capable of casting the changeling-shield spell that we believed would be found in that spellbook," said Compass. "You got a cop-"

"Yes, yes, I got a copy," said Tempo flatly. "Every outpost from here to the badlands did. And we found the spell. The problem is that we've only got six unicorns who are capable of casting it, and they can only maintain it for a few hours at a time."

Compass blinked, then bit her lower lip, looking worried. "Oh. I thought there would be more than that."

"Of course not." The general stamped a hoof. "That would imply that we might ever have something go in our favor here. I'll take it your 'plan' revolved around keeping the outer fortresses protected by those shields and funneling the battle inward, towards us?"

She nodded. "Where the fortifications are strongest," she said. Her eyes went slightly distant, and Spike had yet another flash of deja vu for the times that Twilight would get completely absorbed in a logic puzzle or discussion of magical theory. "Using the foothills to the north as a natural shield, with more spellcasters down to the south so that they can't just march across the fields and-"

Tempo snorted. "Yes, we thought of that. Even if we're not trying just to delay them, forcing them into a fight on our terms is our best bet. That means getting them here. But we don't have the spellpower necessary, and if this 'Chrysalis' thing is as strong as your initial reports said it is, then if those insects have any brains, they'll go anywhere but here. We just don't have the raw numbers to hold the outlying forts. We've already called all personnel away from McHoofry and all positions south of it. We're evacuating civilians from those areas as well. And we're still stretched too thin."

Spike cleared his throat, and the general swung around to glare at him again. "What?" he snapped.

The dragon raised a claw. "I think I might be able to help with a part of that, at least," he said slowly.

"How?" Tempo straightened up and gave him another appraising look. "You gonna go out there and take them all on?"

Spike laughed. "No," he said. "Not exactly. But the whole reason Chrysalis is doing this is because she's angry at us, right?" He pointed to the other three. "More specifically, because she's angry at me. She doesn't need to attack you, so far as I can tell. She's been living in the Tangle and just living off of raids. They aren't starving. They're not after food, and she doesn't want to just throw her 'children' to their deaths."

"So what are you proposing?" Tempo tilted his head to one side, frowning.

"Simple." Spike drummed his claws on the surface of the table and grinned. "She's after me. So, if you want to draw her here, to where you can fight on your own terms... let her know where I am."

The gaping rents in his scales throbbed as he said it. Even with the doctors still spreading their healing magic through his body, those remained unchanged, and as painful as ever. But he still couldn't stop the grin on his face from spreading wider, exposing more and more of his fangs. Nor could he stop the low growl that bubbled up from inside his chest at the thought of seeing her again.

"I've faced her before," he rumbled, "and I survived. I can get her to come here, to get another shot at me. I can buy you the time you need."

30: Weak

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Both of the commanding officers had left the operating theater not long after that, leaving the four of them alone with their caretakers. Spike lowered his head and shut his eyes, letting the doctors do their work.

He could practically feel the others trying to restrain themselves from talking, and he knew that, as soon as they were alone, they were all going to start questioning him. He wasn't looking forward to that, but for the moment he was content to simply lie still and bask in the feeling of his injuries being washed away.

It wasn't going to fully undo everything that had happened to him, he knew. He'd been to Ponyville General a few times, and had his wounds treated magically there. Unicorn magic simply wasn't strong enough to completely undo something like a broken bone without extreme exertion, careful preparation, and multiple practitioners working in concert - something along the lines of what Doctor Grey had done for Tailspin - but it was enough to set the bones and mend the tears and let the body do its own healing.

Before, his body had been overwhelmed by dozens of little agonies that had all blended together into a symphony of pain. Now he simply felt bruised. Sore, yes. Stiff, yes. But not broken beyond repair any more. He would heal.

All except for the three wounds left by Queen Chrysalis. Those remained as painful as they had been during the blizzard. The sensation of ice being stabbed into him was still there, accompanied by the dull, burning, acidic feeling.

Still. It was an improvement, and it was the best he had felt in a long time. If it weren't for the fact that his traveling companions were being quiet so loudly that he couldn't think straight, he would have allowed himself to fall asleep right there. As it was, he just sat and waited for somepony to break the silence.

It was one of the doctors that spoke first. Spike blinked slightly at the sound of her voice; in his half-doze, he had almost forgotten that she was there. She didn't look at any of them as she spoke. She was too preoccupied with levitating a pen and clipboard in front of her and scribbling notes onto the latter.

"That's all that we can do for now," she said. "None of you are in any immediate physical danger, though those of you with broken bones-" she jabbed her pen towards Spike and Pith in turn, without looking up from the clipboard "-will need to take things easy for a few days. Walking and other standard activities are acceptable, but nothing more strenuous. And I'm afraid that there isn't anything more that we can do about your wounds."

She looked up at him, frowning, and continued, "We'll continue to search for information on a possible treatment, but these are magical in nature. None of them are deep enough to be life-threatening, and the... discharge... does not appear to be blood. What it is, we cannot be sure just yet, and there may be some sort of magical damage that we lack the knowledge to even identify, let alone treat. I would advise strict rest, and report any change in your condition immediately. Now." She made a few final notes on the clipboard, then slipped the pen into the pocket of her coat and looked up at him. "If you will excuse us, we have other patients to see to. The general will send for you when you are needed again."

Spike stared at her for a moment. She wasn't waiting for any sort of response. She simply turned and motioned for the other doctors to follow her. It only occurred to him that he should have thanked her when the door was already shut behind them.

As soon as the doctors had left, there was the sound of a set of hooves hitting the floor. He turned. It was, unsurprisingly, Tailspin. The flame-colored pegasus was walking over to him, frowning heavily. At the other end of the room, Pith was standing up as well, though the stallion was taking rather longer to do so. His leg wasn't bent in all the wrong places any more, but he still obviously didn't want to put much weight on it. Compass seemed content to simply remain curled up, though she was watching him with narrowed eyes.

He looked back down to Tailspin, waiting for her to start shouting. Her expression was serious and unmoving as she looked him up and down.

When she spoke, though, her voice was surprisingly gentle. "Spike, are you okay?"

The dragon blinked. He had been expecting a rant. "What?" It was all he could manage, for the moment. His train of thought had been derailed.

"I said, are you okay?" she repeated. "You're kind of scaring me, for more than one reason."

Spike felt a few of the ridges on his back fold downward automatically, and couldn't stop his body from curling in on itself. It wasn't a particularly obvious motion - he doubted that he had moved more than half an inch - but he saw Tailspin's frown deepen as he did it.

"I'm fine," he said. Once again, he found his voice coming out harsher than he intended it to. He paused for a moment, mastering his vocal cords, and tried again. "I'm fine. Better than I have been in a long time. I don't feel like somepony's just finished beating me with a sledgehammer, at least."

"Not what she meant," said Pith, drawing up beside the pegasus, "and you know it."

Tailspin nodded her agreement, and Spike frowned. "I'm fine, I said."

Pith's broad, flat face was as expressionless as ever, but Spike was getting the hang of reading the stallion's emotions through the blankness. He saw the disbelief in the way the stallion's eyes flickered over towards Compass, and the slight downward twitch at the corners of the mouth.

"We're with you, Spike," said Pith. "We'll back your play on this."

Spike felt a twinge of annoyance. He could almost hear the unspoken "but". Having everypony tread lightly around him was beginning to wear thin. It wasn't as though he were a child.

"Good," he said flatly. "Then we're all on the same page here."

It was Compass Rose who spoke up next. The unicorn was giving him a stern look, but there was concern in her eyes. "We are with you, Spike." She turned and stepped down off of her table, then paused to shake out her tangled mane. "But..."

Ah, he thought. There it is.

He tilted his head to one side and gave her a quizzical look. "'But'...?"

"But we need to know that you're still with us," said Tailspin flatly. Spike grunted and turned his head to face her again, frowning now. "You've been off, lately. Ever since we talked to Discord."

Spike gave an exasperated snort, trying to ignore the renewed ache in his wounds as he did so. The motion of his chest caused the scales around them to shift uncomfortably. "Of course I'm still with you. We're partners, remember?"

"That's not what I meant." Tailspin prodded at the floor with the tip of one hoof, frowning heavily now. When she continued, her words came out slowly, each obviously selected with some care. "I saw your expression when we were trapped by the windigos and you said that you wanted to fight them. And I saw the way you looked when you were thinking about facing Chrysalis again."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "And?"

The pegasus drew herself up, glanced at Pith, and then turned back to Spike. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, or are you just losing it?"

The dragon stared at her. Before he could answer, she continued, "You knew you couldn't beat the windigos without magic, and you know Queen Chrysalis is stronger than you. You were even ready to attack Discord just for giving us some information you didn't like. What's going on with you?"

There was another pang from his wounds. Spike ignored it. "I'm doing what needs to be done," he said. "Somepony has to take on Chrysalis. I'm the one she wants, and I'm the one who might actually survive it. It's the best plan we have."

"Nopony's arguing against that." Tailspin frowned and tapped her hoof against the flooring again. "I'm worried that you're so eager to do it because you know it's not going to go well for you."

A metallic scraping sound filled the air as Spike pushed himself into a sitting position. When he was upright, he stared down at the two ponies in front of him, still frowning. "If you think I'm doing this because I want to die or something, you can stop worrying about that," he said flatly. "I said I would do it because it needs to be done."

"No, you didn't." Tailspin's gaze didn't even waver for an instant, and Spike suddenly found himself remembering her as the nervous mare that had practically hidden in the rafters of Carousel Boutique to keep him from even looking at her. It was an odd contrast. "It needs to be done, but that's not why you're so eager to do it. You want to fight her."

One of the purple dragon's claws twitched, scoring a shallow groove across the surface of the table. "Fine," he snapped. "Yes. I want to fight her. I want another shot at her. What's your point?"

Again, Compass spoke, and Spike had to turn his head to face her. She was still standing beside her own table, and gave no sign of wanting to come any closer. "That you didn't before," she said. "You let her live before, even after everything she did to you. To us. Now you look..." She lowered her eyes, and Spike thought that he saw a slight shudder pass through her body. "You look like you're ready to kill her."

"And?" Spike's voice rose slightly, and he turned his head, his gaze traveling across each of his companions in turn. "So what if I do? She's a monster. She's killed and tortured dozens of ponies. She tortured you." He pointed one claw, almost accusatorially, towards Tailspin. This time, the pegasus did flinch. "You're only alive because we got lucky, and we still don't know how long that'll last."

Tailspin's smaller form was suddenly pressed up against Pith's larger one. The stallion had placed one foreleg over her barrel and pulled her in protectively. There was a hint of defensiveness in his posture as he looked up at Spike, but his face was as blank as ever.

The dragon snorted. "I know you'd kill her if you got the chance," he said, addressing Pith now. "You wouldn't even think twice about it."

Pith didn't miss a beat. He simply opened his mouth and said, with all of his usual calmness and certainty, "You would."

"I would have." Spike raised his head until he was surveying the pair of ponies down the full length of his snout. "But I've had a long time to think about that since then. She's a monster, and somepony's got to put her down."

"You never talked like this before," Tailspin said quietly. Her expression had softened now. She didn't look upset. She just looked sad, and very, very tired. "You..." She trailed off and shook her head.

Without really thinking about it, Spike spread his wings. He felt them ache and throb as he did so, but they answered, and there was no pain that he couldn't take. They were bruised and sore, but they were whole again, and they blocked out the light from the lamps in the room as they opened. Tailspin and Pith were left standing in his shadow.

"Before?" His voice came out as a rasp now. "Before was more than eight hundred years ago. Before was back in Ponyville, when all the ponies I knew and loved growing up were alive. Before was when Equestria was happy and beautiful. Don't talk to me about before."

A deep, tectonic growl rose up from his throat, and he felt as though the acid were building up inside him again, flooding his insides and drowning out his natural flame. "I've seen a lot of monsters," he hissed. "Queen Chrysalis. Nightmare Moon. Discord. And they weren't the only ones. They weren't even the worst." He snarled the word. "I faced King Sombra twice before I went to sleep. The nightmare fog in the north that you're all so afraid of? That's only a fraction of what I saw him do. It's only a fraction of what we had to face. And back then, I was too afraid to really fight. And do you know what I got for that?"

His voice rose again, became a roar that left the others' ears ringing. "I got to find my wife's dead body lying there with a hole in her chest, because she did what none of the rest of us could! Because she was strong enough to fight, when I wasn't!"

He stopped, breathing hard, and forced his wings to fold in against his sides again. "She had to die to save us because I was weak," he said, more quietly. "Because I was weak, I told Twilight that I needed time away from the world when they all passed away. Because I was weak, I wasn't there when she needed me. Because I was weak, even more innocent ponies are dying. There are more monsters in the world now than there ever were before. Equestria is gone. Twilight is alone and in pain. Because I was weak."

He tossed his head, turned his gaze upwards, towards the ceiling. "I'm not going to let Chrysalis live this time," he finished. "Not if I get the chance. I'm done letting monsters like her live to hurt more innocent ponies just because I can't stomach the thought of finishing them off myself. I've seen the consequences now. I'm not letting it happen again."

There was a long silence. It took Spike several seconds to realize that somepony had set a hoof against his hand.

He looked down.

It was Compass Rose. The unicorn was looking up at him with an expression that he couldn't quite read. There was a myriad of emotions tangled up in that look: pain, fear, a touch of anger... and, behind all of it, a deep, deep sadness.

She didn't say anything. She just stood there, keeping her hoof pressed against his hand and keeping eye contact. She didn't move, didn't blink, even though her eyes were glistening. She was just... there, a tiny bit of physical contact.

It was an anchor. Spike knew the feeling, knew the simple power of a touch. Countless times, when he was younger, Twilight would simply place a hoof on his shoulder or pull him into a brief hug. No words needed to be exchanged. That simple contact said everything that needed to be said.

Slowly, very, very slowly, Spike felt his body begin to relax. The muscles of his back came first, leaving his wings to settle into a more natural position. Then came his breathing, easing into a slow, even pattern. Even his brow unknit itself.

It wasn't pleasant. He felt as though he were breaking apart with every motion. But it was better than what he had felt inside when he had shouted at Pith and Tailspin. The growing ache in his chest was nothing compared to the unnatural feeling of acid eating away at him from the inside.

Inch by inch, he sank back down onto the table. When he was lying fully upon it again, he blinked and looked away from Compass, back to the other two. Both of them were wearing the same expression that Compass was.

It hurt too much to look at them. He shut his eyes tight, feeling the tears leak from under his eyelids, and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It was Tailspin's voice. Even without opening his eyes, he could tell the pegasus was smiling at him. "We're your friends, Spike. We're saying these things because we care about you. We're worried about you."

He heard her move closer. "We know Chrysalis is a monster," she continued. "I'd kill her in a heartbeat if I had the chance. But I also know you, Spike, and I know you wouldn't. You're not a killer, Spike. That doesn't make you weak. You're... you're one of the gentlest ponies I've ever met, even though you're a dragon." She laughed, and he could hear genuine affection in it, even if it did sound hollow. "We know you're hurting. We're here for you. Just come to us, okay? When you need help, we're here. Don't just let it fester. That'll just end up with you ending up like..."

She paused, and he knew that she had been about to say "Twilight". He was glad that she didn't.

"...Like Luna. Don't let that happen, okay? We'll be here for you, but you've got to meet us halfway."

Spike nodded once, without opening his eyes. He felt very, very small.

Compass Rose pressed against his hand for a moment. "You've saved all our lives more times than I really want to count," she said quietly. "I never really had any friends before the three of you. I'm not the best at this, but I don't want to lose you. Any of you. And I'll do what I can."

"Same," grunted Pith.

Despite the empty feeling inside him, Spike smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll... I'll keep that in mind."

This time, when silence fell over them again, no one tried to break it.

31: Cross My Heart

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Pith wasn't sure how long he stood there watching the other three. Tailspin and Compass were both standing beside Spike, one hoof pressed against his scales.

He didn't feel comfortable with that, which left him standing off to one side and just... looking. It was something that he had become very good at over his years as a scout. Any scout that failed to become good at it didn't survive very long. You had to be good at it, or something that was better would show you the consequences of your inadequacy.

A lot of things that he had seen over the past few hours were worrying him. Only a few of them had anything to do with Spike.

The dragon was the most immediate of his concerns, but far from the only one, and possibly not even the biggest. The black tar that Spike's wounds were oozing had flowed all the more freely during those moments when he had screamed at them, which was ominous, but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

Even if he was, they were already doing everything that they could. The sludge had first appeared after the attack by the windigos. It was obviously tied to the dragon's emotions. Tailspin and Compass were both doing their best to offer silent comfort, and there wasn't much else that he could think of.

He'd heard the voices, of course. He'd known what they were and what they were trying to get from him. It was only now, though, that he considered that Discord had been exposed to the same thing - and they had left him in the mountains, alone.

Eventually, he was pulled out of his silent musings by the sound of the door opening again. All four of them looked up, and, almost immediately, both Pith and Tailspin gave automatic salutes.

"Colonel Reveille, sir," Pith barked. "We were not aware your company had arrived."

It was indeed the olive-coated pegasus from Fort McHoofry. He was looking disheveled, tired, and weatherbeaten, but he was whole. He was flanked by a pair of spear-wielding guards nearly twice his height.

"At ease," he said, waving a hoof at them. "We got in just a short while ago - right after you turned up, I'm told. I heard it all at the meeting, so don't bother tossing your reports at me. I'm here with new orders."

The colonel was quieter than usual, and his face seemed gaunter, more heavily lined. The stare he fixed on them was as powerful as ever, though, and he still seemed to command attention simply by standing there.

Pith lowered his leg and said, "Yes, sir."

"Sir, did the general take our report into account when speaking with the other commanding officers regarding strategy?"

Pith's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't turn his head. Even for Compass Rose, a pony who was not a soldier in any way, shape, or form, it had to be obvious that this was Reveille's time to speak.

But the colonel didn't so much as bat an eye. He just shook his head, frowning. "Partially."

Compass tilted her head to one side. "'Partially', sir?"

"He thinks you're all completely insane," Reveille went on. "And that's about the best case scenario, so far as he's concerned. Worst case is you're all changelings, and the real yous were all killed to set up a deliberate campaign of misinformation." He snorted. "Second-worst case. Releasing an omnipotent spirit of chaos and dooming us all is the worst."

"Discord can be t-" Compass began, but the colonel raised a hoof to cut her off.

"No, he can't," he said bluntly. "Even if he could, we can't plan around 'he'll be here eventually and he'll fix everything when he shows up'. We have no guarantee he's as strong as you say he is, that he'll be on our side, or that he won't just make things worse."

Spike nodded grimly. "Yeah. He tends to do that. Especially when he says he wants to help."

"You see my point, then." Reveille shook his head. "So no. We're not planning around Discord. What we are doing is hedging our bets." He pointed at Compass, Tailspin, and Pith in turn. "You three are coming with me."

Pith blinked. "Sir?"

Reveille gave him a blank look. "You say you're all the ones who can use this superweapon? Fine. You're mission-critical personnel now. That means we get you off the front lines and keep you somewhere safe until we have it. Meanwhile, the dragon-" he didn't even look at Spike as he said it "-stays here and fights. If we hold, great. If not, we at least haven't lost these Element things."

Pith felt his gaze slip sideways, away from his commanding officer and towards Spike. The dragon was still lying on the operating table, but he had lifted his head now, and was staring at Reveille as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

The stallion caught sight of Tailspin's expression, saw her look move towards him. They only made eye contact for an instant, but that was enough. He knew that she was thinking the same thing he was.

Don't leave him alone.

"With all due respect, sir," said Pith slowly, "I think we're needed here."

Reveille snorted, and Pith couldn't help but flinch inwardly at the derisive look that crossed his commanding officer's face. "Why?" he said. "To play nursemaid to a dragon? Yeah, the doctors heard his little tantrum. And you know what? I say good for him."

Pith kept his expression blank and his eyes forward. You did not argue with officers. You especially did not tell officers to take their attitude and shove it because the dragon they were talking about was right there, listening to every word. Even with his gaze locked straight ahead, Pith knew that Spike was tensing up. He could hear the labored sounds of the dragon's breathing. It was a ragged, angry hissing noise, accompanied by something like the crackle of dying embers.

"He's getting mad? Good. Get mad. You want to help? Great. I let you go off into those mountains because I thought you'd come back with a solution. You didn't, so now we need a different one."

Reveille stepped forward, his wings spreading as he did so. Pith could see that the left one had been maimed at some point; there was a long crease down the center of it, as if that part had been ripped out and never healed correctly. This time, when he spoke, he was addressing Spike directly. "So get mad," he snapped. He had to tilt his head back quite far just to maintain eye contact with Spike, but he still seemed somehow titanic compared even to the dragon's bulk. "Get angry. Get furious and go out there and rip those insects in half. We need a trump card here, and a dragon who won't fight is no damn good at all."

"Sir." Pith almost shouted the word, but his body leapt to attention as he said it. Without really thinking about it, he was back to standing up ramrod-straight, his gaze directed straight ahead, staring at a point on the opposite wall. "With all due respect, sir, I was trained not to leave my partners behind."

"I do not believe I was giving you an option, scout," snapped Reveille. Pith could just see him out of the corner of one eye. The pegasus hadn't even looked away from Spike. "This is a direct order issued by General Tempo. You do not get to choose."

The words rose up from within his chest without him really thinking about them. "Sir, if necessary, I will-"

"Go."

Pith blinked, shocked out of his immobility by the sound of Spike's voice. He turned his head. "What?"

"I said go," Spike repeated. He still had his head bowed, as it had been when he was watching Reveille, but his jade-green eyes were fixed on Pith. "You can't help here."

"Spike." It was Compass' voice now. Pith could barely see her, hidden as she was by the dragon's bulk. "You need-"

"You've already given me everything I need." Spike lifted his head and gave them a crooked smile. His voice was surprisingly calm and gentle. "Or everything you can, anyway. And the colonel is right. The three of you are too valuable to risk. And I'll be..." He stopped, then shrugged and finished, "I'll survive."

Reveille gave a satisfied nod, then turned away from Spike and towards Pith. "I'm going to assume that you were going to end that last sentence with 'obey the orders from my superiors to the letter', scout," he said sharply. "Do not attempt to disillusion me of this notion. I'll expect all three of you outside in five. Your escort will be waiting. As for you-" he glanced back over his shoulder at Spike "-there will be an escort sent in for you shortly. Wait here until then."

He gave Pith and Tailspin a brief, curt nod apiece, then turned to leave. The last thing he said before the doors shut behind his guards was "Carry on, scouts."

As soon as he was gone, both Tailspin and Compass were talking over one another.

"Spike, we can't-"

"You need-"

The dragon raised a claw to silence them. "Like I said, you've already given me everything you can," he began. "And what I need, right now, isn't that important. What you all need is, and you need a dragon. The colonel is right."

"But it's hurting you," said Pith flatly. He raised a hoof to point to the ooze blackening Spike's scales. When the dragon gave him a surprised look, he continued, "I saw it get thicker when you started to shout earlier. You said the windigos did something to you. They feed on negative emotions, right? Now you're bleeding black whenever you get mad."

Spike watched him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes." He lowered his eyes. "And that's not all. When I was fighting them, back in the blizzard, I couldn't flame. This-" he drew a claw across his stained scales, covering the tip in the dark oil "-or something like this, anyway, came up instead. Black fire, but it burned like acid."

Pith heard the sharply indrawn breath from Compass, saw Tailspin frown. He ignored them both. "Then we've got no idea what doing this will do to you," he pressed on. "This could end bad, Spike. Real bad."

"I know." The dragon lifted his eyes again, and Pith saw the glint of determination there. "It probably will. But I have to try anyway, and there isn't anything you can do. You'd just be putting yourselves in harm's way for no reason when you three are our best shot at fixing all of this."

He rolled slightly and pushed himself off of the table to stand beside Compass. "I can help," he went on, frowning, "but I'm... ha. I'm just a dragon, if that makes any sense." An awkward grin crept onto his face. "I can't wield the Elements of Harmony, and that's what all of this rides on in the end. If we're going to fix any of this, if we're going to get rid of the changelings and the Tangle and fix the sky and get rid of the nightmare mist and make it so anypony can live a normal life again, instead of just living in fear of the next time things are going to go wrong, that's on the three of you."

He lifted his head and ran his gaze over each of them in turn. "You're too important to lose," he said firmly. "Any of you. And not just because you're my friends. Everypony needs you safe and ready to use the Elements when we find them. So go. Keep yourselves safe and out of Chrysalis' way. That way, even if this does go bad for me, you'll still be around to give people a chance. I don't like doing this. I don't think it's going to end well. But there aren't any other options, and it needs to be done, and I'm the only one who might be able to do it."

There was silence for a moment. Then Pith said, very simply, "We'll find you when it's over."

"And you'll try to find us," Tailspin added sharply. "Promise us that."

For some reason, that got an actual laugh out of Spike. He reared up onto his back legs, then drew one claw over his chest twice, making the shape of an X over his scales. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," he said. His grin only got wider as he finished the motion by covering one eye with his hand.

They all just stared. After a few seconds, he lowered his hand, sighed, and said, "That was called a Pinkie promise back home. Nopony ever breaks a Pinkie promise. I'll find you. I swear."

Pith nodded. "Good. Make sure you're still in one piece, too."

Another laugh, this one a bit more forced. "I'll do my best," he said. "You should probably get going, though. They're waiting outside."

The stallion nodded solemnly. Before he turned to leave, though, he drew himself up to attention and saluted once again.

"We'll be waiting," he said. "I don't abandon my partners."

Spike nodded in return, and Pith saw something like gratitude in the dragon's eyes. He didn't wait for a response, though. He lowered his leg and turned towards the door, Tailspin and Compass falling in behind him.

32: This Day Is Going To Be Perfect

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Duplicity.

It was an easy thing, really. It was what he was best at. Everyone did it, in one way or another, but Discord had millennia to practice the art.

A lie was a powerful thing. A small lie could trick someone for a moment. A larger one, for a day. Larger still, for a lifetime. And the nice thing, the nice thing, was that if a lie was convincing enough, and if it lasted for long enough, there ceased to be any difference between the lie and reality.

Discord, in the countless aeons since his birth, had mastered the art of lying to the world. Lying to its inhabitants was simple. A true master of the lie could fool reality itself. It was surprisingly easy; the space-time continuum never seemed to learn any of the little giveaways that its children were so annoyingly perceptive about.

Being in two places at once was simple, compared to some of the other fast ones that he had pulled.

That was why it disgusted him that it took so much of his energy to do it. He felt like an athlete that had indulged in too much fast food over the past few years, and was now attempting to run a marathon. His heart was, both metaphorically and literally, screaming at him. He told it to shut up, then, as an afterthought, got rid of it entirely. It wasn't as though he had ever really needed one anyway.

Looked at from one angle, he was still standing on the mountaintop - or, more accurately, he was sitting at a small table with a checkered cloth, sipping freshly-brewed, piping-hot magic out of a small silver teacup and admiring the view as a few errant windigoes stampeded around the distant peaks. He had considered inviting them to join him, but eventually decided against it. They were not the best party guests, really. They tended to spill the drinks.

Looked at from another, rather more actual angle, he was hanging upside-down from an ornate crystalline chandelier, with his clawed foot hooked around one of its jeweled outcroppings like a bat's.

It wasn't entirely dark in the hall. There was the dull, burnished, coppery light that leaked in through a few ruined windows, but they were too streaked with soot to allow much in the way of illumination. That left few details of the surrounding area visible.

Or, rather, it would have left few things visible if he had been relying on ordinary sight. The Lord of Madness had no trouble at all in discerning the grand throne beneath him, or the figure that sat upon it. Both had changed substantially since he had last seen them, but there was still just enough of the old to be recognizable.

And, of course, there was the heart-shaped crystal, as large as a pony's barrel, that floated in the air just in front of the figure, radiating sickening, black power. That also left little doubt as to what he was looking at.

He was fully aware that the... thing... on the throne could see him just as well as he could see it, though its head was still turned away. He wasn't particularly worried.

Still, the silence was becoming a bit oppressive.

He raised his paw to his lips and coughed, once.

"What do you want, Discord?"

Even with the body so changed, the voice remained beautiful. Discord let his expression change into a wide, toothy grin.

"Oh, I just thought I'd pop in to say hello to an old friend. I've been away for some time, you know. I thought it was only proper."

The thing on the throne shifted. There was a scraping sound.

"An old friend?" There was a note of amusement in the voice. "A bit presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

Discord laughed and twirled a claw. "Come now. I know that the two of us were never quite bosom pals, but still."

"'The two of us'?" The thing below him laughed as well. It was a familiar laugh, almost musical in its way. When it faded, a pair of eyes opened. They were brilliantly green, and the air near them seemed to fume and twist with uncontained power.

"I think," it said slowly, "you may be thinking of someone else."

Discord's grin only widened. "Oh, no," he said. "You are just the person I wanted to see." A simple lie, that. It was one of the truly easy ones, the ones that would be treated as though they were true even if the mark saw through them. Some people just couldn't resist the urge to talk. He should know. He was one of them.

Yes, two places was easy. Three, on the other hand, was going to be a bit harder.

Back on the mountaintop, Discord frowned and glanced down at the tiny cup that he held so delicately between two claws. He swirled its contents about thoughtfully for a moment, then sighed. He was rather proud of his little tea service, truth be told; the little pattern of butterflies on it was quite fetching.

But some lies... well, some lies just needed more behind them if they were going to last. And this one was going to be a doozy.

It really was a shame. The khaki one was a bit of a buzzkill, yes, but overall the other two had been... well, not nearly as much fun as Pinkie, or as sweet as Fluttershy, but... still. A shame. And there was Spike, of course, but then, there was always Spike. Things never seemed to go that dragon's way. Surely he would be used to it by now. It wasn't as though it were anything personal.

...No, that wasn't right. It was personal, wasn't it?

Yes. Personal.

With a flicker of thought, he dismissed the tea service. A moment later, it was replaced by a pint mug, which he filled from a tap that had spontaneously materialized in midair, drained in a single gulp, and immediately refilled.

Discord grinned to himself. There was no real mirth in it.

This... was not going to be fun.

But, perhaps more than anything else he had ever done, it was going to be oh so satisfying.


The guard flinched under Colonel Reveille's glare.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't open the gate without authorization from-"

"I am giving the authorization!" Reveille's voice was at its full, ear-shattering volume. The guardsmare in front of him was leaning back as far as possible, obviously fighting the urge to turn and bolt.

Pith was intimately familiar with that urge. Every recruit had the fear of their drill sergeant drilled into them during basic training. He was impressed that Reveille had picked up The Voice without ever actually serving as a drill instructor.

He was more impressed that the guardsmare was actually rallying well enough to form a coherent sentence in the face of the hurricane of sound. She licked her lips once, then quavered, "Sir, if you're leaving the fortress, we need a record of where you're going-"

Pith shot a glance towards Tailspin and Compass, who were standing to his right. Tailspin had a look of faint amusement on her features as she watched the proceedings. Compass simply looked sour, and kept snatching glances at the five soldiers who stood around the three of them on all sides.

Armed escort wasn't something that Pith had ever been placed under before. He would have preferred that he and Tailspin had simply been allowed to take Compass and head out into the wilds alone; these were soldiers, not scouts, and a group this size would be a hell of a lot easier to spot than they would be on their own even if they were all trained in stealth. But Reveille had insisted, and on this, there was no budging him.

"-part of 'top secret' do you not understand, soldier?" he was shouting. "Our destination is confidential. You have a problem with that, you take it up with Tempo, understand? Now open these gates!"

The guard swallowed hard. It was, Pith had to admit, somewhat entertaining to watch a mare that size cowering in front of somepony as diminuitive as Reveille. "S-sir," she croaked, "if that's the case, then the General would have given you the override code phrase-"

Reveille paused for a moment. Then he turned his head to look at one of the guards, his expression unreadable. Pith glanced over at the guard he was looking at just in time to see a barely-perceptible nod.

Reveille snorted. "Harvest!" His voice was a bark, but not as loud as it had been a moment prior. "Code!"

The guard he had looked at saluted. "Sir! Code is apple-diamond-pear..."

Pith tuned him out and looked back to Tailspin and Compass. Both of the mares were looking up at him, their expressions identical pictures of slight confusion. After a moment, Pith shrugged and looked back towards Reveille.

The pegasus was giving the guard an expectant look. After a second's time to compose herself, the guard straightened up and nodded once. "That all seems to be in order, sir." Somehow, she managed to keep her voice from cracking. "Just let me, uh, get this gate open for you."

A few seconds later, the troupe was on the road, headed along one of the paths leading northwest from the fortress. Colonel Reveille strode along in the center of the group, walking abreast with Compass Rose just behind Pith and Tailspin. The armed escort that he had insisted upon bringing along arranged themselves in a sort of rough circle around the four of them, and spent most of their time peering around suspiciously. They walked along without speaking. The only sound was that of their hooves thudding against the rocky ground as they walked.

The first time that anyone spoke was when they crested a rise in the road. It was Tailspin who broke the silence, first with a low whistle, then with a "Well. That looks worse than I expected it to."

Pith blinked slowly and turned to look at her. She had stopped walking and turned around to face back the way they had come. In the distance, the colossal bulk of Fort Maneholdt was visible as a dark line against the horizon. From this spot, though, there were other things visible as well. Here, at the center of the cordon, the emplacements were closer together than elsewhere. Pith could clearly see, off to the south, the smoking ruin where one fortress should have been, and the black, amorphous shape that had replaced another.

And, hovering in the sky over the Tangle like a dark crown, there was a mass of black thunderheads.

Pith set his jaw and let out a low snort at the sight. His eyes darted over the shattered wrecks on the horizon, then to the Tangle, and finally back to Fort Maneholdt. Then he shook his head.

"If you're all done staring," said Reveille's voice, as sharp and brazen as the crash of cymbals, "we have somewhere to be."

Pith shook himself. "Sir," he said. "Yes, sir. Apologies, sir. I was distracted for a moment."

"I can see that," answered Reveille, looking disinterested. He frowned and jerked his head towards the path they had been taking. "Keep moving. The entire reason we're getting you three out of there is to keep you away from the changelings, and they're getting closer by the minute."

"Yes, sir. We can see that," said Tailspin, as they started forward again. She shot a look at Pith, whose stony expression mirrored her own. "They seem to be getting closer very quickly, sir," she continued. "What are the odds that we'll be able to hold?"

Reveille snorted. "Not good, unless your dragon friend has a miracle ready for us. And 'saved by an evil god-monster' doesn't count. The changelings went straight for Greenfield, punched right through. Cut the entire south side of the cordon off from reinforcement and just swept down. We only made it out of McHoofry because I called for evacuation before they actually reached us, and we had to break into small groups and run for it through the hills. I'm not sure how many actually made it."

"And Doctor Grey?" It was Compass' voice, this time. Pith could see her expression out of the corner of his eye. She still looked sour - she had a face that naturally tended towards that - but there was a tinge of worry in it as well.

Reveille grunted, then said, very simply, "Didn't make it."

There was silence for a full thirty seconds after that. Then Compass said, "I'm sorry."

Reveille didn't look at any of them. He just kept facing forward, his expression hidden from view. "This is a war," he said flatly. "People die."

"Yes," said Compass. "But I understand the two of you were close."

Pith frowned and shot her a look. This was not the thing to say at the current time. There was no immediate reprimand from Reveille, however. There was nothing but silence, and a slight twitch of his wing.

When he spoke again, his voice was short, clipped, and, for the first time, had a faint note of uncertainty in it. "My relationship with the late doctor is no concern of yours, Miss Rose," he said. "Do not press further into this matter."

"Yes, Colonel." Compass pursed her lips and let her gaze fall to the path again. For a few seconds, Pith shot she was finished, but then:

"Where are we headed, sir?"

Another twitch from Reveille's wing. "A bunker," he said, his voice firm once again. "Just south of where the nearest settlement used to be. There are a few scattered around the settlements, in case we find something we want to keep safe and can't trust the usual methods."

"I've never heard of them," said Compass. "They weren't marked on any of the maps I-"

"That," Reveille cut in, his voice rising, "would be because their locations are top secret, Miss Rose. Now, if you are finished prattling, perhaps you can focus on maintaining the proper pace. We need to get away from the front lines as quickly as possible."

Pith set his jaw. Beside him, he heard the slight hiss from Tailspin and saw her move a bit closer to the flinching Compass. But that was all. No one said anything else.

Wrapped once again in silence, they continued along the path. Behind them, Fort Maneholdt faded into the distance.


The dragon was stirring in the back of Spike's brain.

It was something that he had learned to control when he was very young. He had spent some time among others of his species, and seen the way they conducted themselves. Young dragons were greedy, boastful, petty things. He had once hoped that he would meet older dragons and find that they learned to reign in those impulses.

He had been disappointed. Elder dragons never shed their greed, or their unthinking anger, or their spiteful nature. They honed them, practiced them. They took the unthinking, brutish nature of their childhood, reigned it in, and sharpened it to a razor's edge.

Some accounts that Spike had read described dragons as noble. That was true, to an extent. Dragons were noble in the same way that a scheming duke with his eye on the throne was noble. They were haughty, vain, cruel things, and they reveled in it.

And they were strong. They were very, very strong.

Right now, Spike needed strength.

The dragon was nothing so simple as a separate entity. It wasn't a voice that spoke to him in seductive whispers, or some dark side of himself that he kept locked away. It was simply the capacity to be like others of his kind. If he wanted to, he could kill.

I say good for him.

Chrysalis' face loomed up in his memories. His claws shifted reflexively, scraping across the tabletop with a faint, shrill sound.

The sound of the door opening pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Captain Road making his way into the room.

The captain had obviously been busy since he left. His uniform was askew and untidy-looking, his mane was disheveled, and he looked more than a bit nervous. He smiled faintly when he saw Spike.

"Right," he said. "Sorry for the wait. I've been running around all over the place trying to get things done. We're ready for you, though. Follow me."

Spike took a deep breath, nodded, and stepped down off of the table. His legs protested slightly, and his wings ached heavily with the motion, but it was a marked improvement over how he had felt before the medical staff had worked on him. He still felt bruised and tired, but he was, at least, whole.

"I'm ready," he said. "Just show me what you need."

Road nodded, then turned and motioned for Spike to follow. "This way, then. The general is waiting. And we may not have much time."

Outside, the world was still masked in its perpetual half-shadow. Spike cast his eyes upward for a moment, towards the moon, and frowned to himself. He didn't look long, though. There was too much going on for him to be able to get away with not paying attention to where he was going.

Fort Maneholdt was fully awake now. When Spike and the rest had first arrived, there had been activity, yes, but it was nothing compared to the rush going on now. Spike would have thought of it as chaos if it hadn't been so readily apparent that each and every pony present knew exactly what they were doing.

Pegasi soared overhead. Earth ponies and unicorns rushed back and forth on the ground, more often than not with heavy burdens on their backs or being towed via cart. Several injured ponies on stretchers were levitated past him as he made his way out of the medical building.

And it was all done in near complete silence. Everypony present had their orders. There was almost no talking going on at all.

Even with his size back to something approaching normal, Spike towered above the crowds, and it was difficult to move without running into anyone. Once or twice, he was forced to dance out of the way of an oncoming cart.

Captain Road was moving more quickly than he was. If it weren't for his height advantage, Spike might have lost sight of his guide in the crowds. As it was, he managed to tail him towards the eastern wall of the fortress, where the crowd was thickest.

Like the rest of Fort Maneholdt, the walls were much more impressive than those that had been in place at McHoofry. McHoofry's walls had been wooden. These were stone, cyclopean things, built to last. They reared upward over Spike's head, reaching towards the dim sky.

Soldiers and other military personnel were crowded around the base of the wall, as well as moving up and down the stone steps that led up towards the parapet. None of them gave Spike so much as a glance, and the dragon shivered as he watched them. There was something haunted in their expressions.

He ducked through a brief opening in the crowd and made his way up to Captain Road. "So," he said quietly, still watching the workers, "what am I here to see?"

Road's eyes were turned upward, towards the stairs. He ran one hoof through his mane, sighed, and answered, "General Tempo wanted to speak to you. If you're fighting with us, you need a sitrep, and we need to know exactly how much you think you can do. He's up on the wall, though, and it's going to be a pain getting up there."

Spike snorted. One of his wings twitched automatically. "I can get up on my own, I think" he said. "I could try to carry you, but I don't know exactly how much strain I want to put on my wings just yet."

Road blanched slightly. "Uh, no," he said, with a few rapid shakes of his head. "No. Thank you, but no. I like my hooves on the ground, thank you very much. I'll make my own way up. But you should go to see the general."

"Fair enough." Spike nodded once, then shifted his stance and, with great care, spread his wings. "I'll meet you up there, then."

And he flapped once, tentatively, testing his strength.

He did lift. It was a clumsy thing; he was no pegasus, and going from a standing start to full speed in an instant, as he had done in the Everfree, was more stress than he was willing to put on his newly-healed limbs at the moment. Even with such a gentle takeoff as this, he felt the ache in his joints redouble. But he could fly.

A sudden, unexpected feeling of relief washed over him. He could fly. He hadn't quite registered until just now what it would mean to lose his wings. There had been too much more to consider. Now that he had a moment, though, the exhilaration of being airborne swept over him in a great wave, and he had to fight the urge to flap harder. There was no point in straining himself.

The sight that greeted him as he crested the top of the wall forced him to stop and stare for a moment.

The parapet was an impressive construction, easily wide enough for him to stand on despite his bulk and stretching off around the perimeter of the fortress in both directions. Despite this, it was full almost to its entirety. Earth ponies and unicorns of all descriptions lined the wall, almost all of them holding some sort of weapon. Overhead, heavily-armed pegasi flew in squads of four and five.

Those that weren't were either busy retrieving one or delivering one to somepony else. Javelins, spears, halberds, maces, morningstars, and a dozen other varieties were all visible. There were also a number of large, wooden mechanisms scattered along the length of the wall. Spike had no idea of the details of their design, but given that they each appeared to be loaded with a spear and pointed towards the Tangle, he could hazard a rough guess as to their function.

But that wasn't what drew his eye. No, what caught his attention was the Tangle itself.

The great mass of vines was, as best he could tell, less than a mile away - and, unlike the vines that they had forced their way through to reach Twilight's old palace, these vines were alive. They writhed visibly and sent feelers forward. Dark shapes moved between them, and their vicious thorns gouged up the ground in great furrows. It had the appearance of some great monster skulking low to the ground, waiting to pounce.

And, above it, there was the great mass of thunderheads. They were not natural clouds, but the same oily, black, thorn-covered things created by the plunder seeds, all gathered together and forced into one colossal mass. There was so much magic forced into that storm that it was no longer even truly black, but a mix of purples and blues and reds, as if the sky were bruised. Green lightning flashed within the mass of clouds, and the air was full of the distant rumble of thunder.

Spike shook himself, found a break in the crowd, and lowered himself onto the top of the wall, frowning. He was about to take a step forward to get a better look at the Tangle once again when a voice rang out.

"You."

Spike turned. General Tempo was striding towards him, tailed by a young unicorn that could only be an adjutant. The adjutant was constantly accepting files and memos from passing personnel, glancing over them, and occasionally passing one to the general. The general, for his part, dismissed most of them. His eyes were fixed on Spike, who drew himself up and cleared his throat.

"Uh... yes, sir," he said. "Me. I've decided to fight."

"Good." Tempo cast a critical eye over him. His gaze lingered for a moment on the oozing rents in his scales. "We'll need all the help we can get. The changelings have broken our southern defensive line. We've managed to get four out of the five settlements defended by those fortresses evacuated, but if we can't hold the line at Maneholdt, then it'll all have been for nothing. The changelings will crush though and take everyone. There won't be anywhere to hide."

Spike blinked. "Four out of the five, sir?"

"Yes." Tempo accepted another file from his adjutant, grunted, and handed it back. He said nothing else.

After a moment, Spike prompted, "What happened to the fifth?"

Tempo scowled. "Razed," he said flatly. "And its inhabitants taken prisoner. Along with the entire garrison at Greenfield."

"I'm sorry," said Spike. There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

Tempo merely grunted again. "Be sorry later," he said. "For now, we have to focus on keeping the rest of the settlements safe. The southern fields were already the source of most of our food stocks. We can't afford to lose any more territory. We live on a knife edge as it is."

Spike nodded and glanced back towards the Tangle. "Then how do we stop them, sir?"

"With every armed pony we can muster armed to the teeth and sitting inside the most heavily-fortified position in our territory," answered Tempo flatly. "Maneholdt is the single toughest nut to crack our military has ever established. It's turned the insects back before when it looked like it wouldn't be possible. Maneholdt will hold." He stepped forward and jabbed a hoof against Spike's chest. "You'll make sure of that."

Spike nodded again, his expression grim. "I'll do what I can."

"Good," said Tempo. "This... Chrysalis thing, assuming it is the leader, has never been able to take Maneholdt before. It's been over a decade since they made any serious attempt. We can and will stop them here, especially with a dragon as our trump card."

Something flicked on in Spike's memory. Something that Pith Helmet had said while they were resting in the Fort McHoofry infirmary.

"Ace," he muttered.

Suddenly, he felt very worried.


The great gates on Fort Maneholdt's southern wall creaked open, admitting a handful of beaten and bleeding soldiers. Two of them were pulling a cart, which was full of other ponies. All but one of the ones in the cart were unconscious.

The one who was still awake was a grey unicorn mare nursing an obviously broken hind leg. Beside her was sprawled a diminutive, olive-coated pegasus stallion wearing a colonel's uniform.

Doctor Grey raised her head and peered around at the crowd, then leaned over and draped one good leg protectively over the pegasus.


"What?" Tempo looked up from another memo, frowning.

"The ace," Spike repeated, his voice rising sharply. "What's her ace? Chrysalis might be angry, but she's not stupid. What's her plan? If she can't take Maneholdt through brute force, what's she going to do? She wouldn't throw her entire hive to their deaths without a backup."

"We're not expecting her to," said Tempo shortly. "But we've got no intelligence to work with here, no time to gather it, and no real way to do so even if we did have the time."

"But we can't just go into this blind," Spike said, unable to keep the edge of panic down. "Chrysalis has had years of experience fighting you. She's had decades to figure something out, to get things in place, but she didn't actually try to attack until now. She hasn't attacked when she was just up against normal ponies, and now I'm here. What's changed? What's her ace?"

Tempo raised his head from the latest memo and gave Spike a blank stare. "We don't know," he said, his voice slow and patient. "We can't know."

"Then what do we do?" asked Spike urgently.

Tempo took a deep breath, passed the memo back to his adjutant, and turned to look outward, towards the Tangle. "We hope," he said, "that ours is better."