> Redeem the Fallen > by Hyper Matter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A New Life, A New Sun > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A New Life, A New Sun “Xenagos was the first, and he shall be the last,” Heliod, God of the Sun, declared, impaling the dark-haired woman with her own spear. “No champion should eclipse their god.” Godsend shattered in a brilliant shower of golden sparkles, leaving the wound it made to bleed out all over the woman’s silver breastplate. The only thing remaining of the holy blade were the two gems that it once held. As she stood there, speechless and betrayed, she noted the lack of powerful emotions flooding her mind. Rage was strangely missing, but in the back of her mind, she knew that this was a likely outcome of her actions. Stars and nebulae blurred into an indistinguishable canvas of bleeding colors, while every sound around her quieted to nothing more than muffled background noise. Somewhere behind her, she was aware of her friend and ally, Ajani, calling out for her. Gently, the god pushed his dying warrior over into the shocked Leonin’s white arms. “Quickly, leave Nyx. Return to the mortal realm of Theros, for if she loses her life here, her essence is forfeit. Let Erebos claim her; it is what she wished for.” Golden eyes peered down on the feline fighter with the intensity of the sun, threatening to burn him to cinder should he defy Heliod. Ajania wanted to roar, to strike the god down as heartlessly as he had his friend, but he knew the woman’s time was short. Sneering at Heliod, Ajani and his precious cargo vanished from the god’s sight. The two arrived at the Temple of the Gods in a wisp of aethereal energy. Suddenly, the towering white columns, pristine altars, and inviting stairs had lost all of their appeal to the feline. Carrying her inside, he carefully laid her down near one of the altars and rested his twin-blade axe on a column.Though Ajani shed no tears, any fighter could see the turmoil playing across his face as he prepared to say his final words to his friend. He grasped her hand tightly, feeling her grip weakening. Alas, their moment was not to last. As if the drop in temperature wasn't enough to reveal the interlopers, Ajani turned to confirm his suspicions. His ears flicked in time with each hollow footstep of his new foes. The Eidolon, mist-like beings born from the souls of those who’d remembered their time in the Theros’s underworld, stalked ever closer to the cat warrior. The only reason for their presence here was Elspeth, which meant that Erebos had sent them here to claim the planeswalker for his own. That was something he would not allow. Luckily, the dark, ghostly figured hadn’t seen them yet. Ajani clenched the handle of his weapon and prepared to take advantage of his unknown status to take them out. Tensing his legs for the pounce, he hoped to feel the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his battle-worn body, but instead all he received was a rough touch on his shoulder. Whipping around, Ajani leveled his axe at the one who had chosen to blindside him. “Brimaz...” he said breathlessly, fatigue entering his voice as his body came down from its building adrenaline rush. The beige-furred king stood there, his blue and gold robes swaying lightly, lifted by a weak draft. “We knew that you’d return here when your business with the gods was concluded. This is what the human wanted, Ajani. You cannot hope to fight off Erebos’s spectres in your state and we--” Brimaz gestured to the other Leonin who’d accompanied him, “-- do not have your magics to deal with them. You didn’t even notice our presence. You’d be dead in an instant.” Brimaz could see Ajani’s lips furrow in protest. However, having seen their closeness first hand, he knew that his Leonin brother wouldn’t agree with the decision to leave her behind. But he didn’t need to agree. Before Ajani could form a word or even retaliate, one of the king’s cat warriors fell upon him, knocking him to the floor with a swift blow to the back of the head. With the last of his strength, he reached out towards his friend’s still form, her mouth working in silent prayer. He felt Brimaz whisk him up, spiriting him away from the temple as darkness overtook him. Eidolons surrounded her body as she prayed to Heliod, once more, hoping to finally find peace. The god had betrayed her, but she understood. Fear, not malice, drove the sun to do what he did. He was still a good god to the people of Theros, and, up until recently, had given her a place to belong. In Elspeth’s mind, it made sense to ask him one final time for that which she yearned to have. As her life ebbed away and the spirits’ wispy hands touched her body, she also prayed for Daxos and that he would find happiness with his new life. ---*****--- Erebos sat on the throne of the Underworld running his clawed fingers over the woman's deathmask. The little thing was fashioned in a manner that it would look reminiscent of her face while using the two gems from Godsend as eyes. She’d gotten what she wanted, he’d gotten what he wanted, and Heliod had gotten what he wanted. And that’s the part that irked him to no end. Despite his outward demeanor, his brother banishing him to this plane still brought with it waves of vengeful thoughts. Erebos knew why the sun god wanted her dead, and it wasn’t his place to interfere. Besides, she had promised her soul to him. He still didn’t like it, though. Once again, his brother had come out on top. Heliod was still the chief god; Xenagos’s ascension and subsequent fall hadn’t shifted the status quo at all like he wanted it to. He stopped fumbling with the artifact in his hands and stared down at it intently. He could change it, though. Helios killed her in an attempt to trap her soul in the underworld where she wouldn’t be a threat to the pantheon. The mortal had managed to defeat the satyr-god and restore balance to Theros. A mere mortal, but she was of the same make as Xenagos, a planeswalker. Helios didn’t want another upstart god trying to claim power. A smirk spread across the death god’s face. With a turn of his palm and a flick of his starry robes, he had her soul in the palm of his hands. He could feel it, what brother was afraid of. The potential was there. She was close as well. She’d never reach her destiny locked away here, though. Reaching into her power, he mentally grasped at the treads that allowed her to walk the multiverse freely, pulling on her power as if it were his own; he’d never be able to use the spark for himself, but he didn’t need to. For a moment, Erebos wondered what he was doing. Was he showing pity on the mortal? No, he simply did this to spite Heliod. Mortals were predictable; she would recover, train, strengthen, then return. He was just keeping the constant power play on Theros going. She would be his ace in the hole when the time came. Tugging powerfully, he jump-started her planeswalking ability and infused a sliver of his necromantic powers into her soul, just enough to give her what she’d need. As her soul slipped away, Erebos glimpsed infinity. The worlds she’d seen, the battles she’d waged. Perhaps getting her off of Theros was for the best? “Go now, claim new life and purpose,” the god muttered to himself, watching the last wisps of her soul depart for the space between worlds. Her deathmask crumbled, reducing itself to dust while the twin eye orbs both dematerialized, following the soul. At that, Erebos’s raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Theros refused to leave the woman alone. ---*****--- Today was like any other day on Sweet Apple Acres; hard work and profit! A gentle breeze filtered through the branches of the expansive orchard, bringing with it the scent of perfectly ripe apples and crystal clear waters. Glossy red fruit drew the eyes just as much as the perfectly maintained barns and the large home situated in the middle of the land. Celestia’s sun hung high over the farm, basking the trees in warm life-giving rays while at the same time nearly killing anypony unlucky enough to be caught outside. At least, according to Apple Bloom, it was. Tiny hooves slammed into one of the many tree trunks under their care, knocking apples into the baskets beneath their branches. Apple Bloom brushed a foreleg across her face. She was baking under the noon sun, but they were almost done for today. Having just filled three more bushels, all she needed was three more, and then the filly could call it a day and hang out with her friends. “That’s three more down, Mac!” she called out with a southern twang. Crouching down, she took advantage of her earth pony strength and hefted the apples onto her back. “I’m going to start taking these back and bringing out new baskets. Is that alright?” “Eeyup!” Came her brother’s powerful, signature reply. “Careful though, I heard a crash earlier, sounded like something in the barn fell over.” “Yessiree!” She snapped a silly little salute in the direction of her older brother’s voice and went about her business. Trekking back to the barn with what the filly figured was her body weight in apples was arduous, at least it would have been to somepony who wasn’t an Apple. Apple Bloom, however, marched on without a care in the world as if nothing were holding her down. It was a short trot from the line of trees back to the barn she needed to deposit her harvest in. If she didn’t live on the farm, she would have forgotten the looming, bright red, wooden structure was even here, seeing as it was such a new addition to their facilities. The voices of her kinfolk bounced around inside her head, echoing the song they sang while putting it together. Opening the door, Apple Bloom took a cautious step inside. She winced from the jaw-grinding squeal of metal on metal from the crap hinge they had bought from the town blacksmith. “Why won’t anypony handle that?” She hadn’t even made it fully inside the structure before her sixth sense started firing off like a gatling gun. Something was wrong with the barn. Her eyes darted around the room, picking up on every little detail they scanned over. Big Mac's ponnequin was toppled over, its ensemble tossed every which way. The hay was disturbed. Many of the bales were completely overturned or burst apart, leaving the dry plant strewn about like a tornado had blown through the barn. It was bright, much too bright for a roofed building with so few windows to let in light. Apple Bloom’s eyes landed on a particularly thick beam of light and slowly traveled upwards, her leg twitching every time a broken strut or a shattered piece of timber passed through her sight line. Eventually, her gaze stopped on the roof, where it could go no further. Normally that would be the case, but normally there wasn't a gaping hole in the roof. “Horsefeathers!” Apple Bloom shouted, just knowing that Applejack would somehow blame this on her. Shuffling in the pile of hay underneath the damage pulled her mind out of its imaginary land of strange, outlandish punishments. Dropping to her belly, she let her load slide to the ground and gingerly entered the barn proper. “H-hello? Is there anypony in here?” For a moment, the entire world went silent. No wind, no bird calls, nothing. Everything waited for an answer. Another shuffle, followed by a pained moan answered the filly. “B-Big Mac!” Apple Bloom shouted at the top of her lungs, backpedaling out as fast as her little legs could carry her. It didn’t take long for the burly pony to respond to her cries. The second he arrived on the scene, Apple Bloom took a place behind his one of his thick back legs. “What’s the matter?” “Somep-pony. In the hay.” Big Mac snorted at the idea of some bum sneaking a good night’s sleep in their barn and being foolish enough not to hightail it at the crack of dawn. While he had no plans for violence, he did plan on making whoever was over their pay for the hospitality they’d been given. Ignoring the disarray around him, he readied himself for anything and trotted over to where the trespasser was supposed to be. What he found wasn't quite what he expected. Covered from the neck down by an elegant, white hooded cloak was an equally as white pegasus mare with a dark chocolate colored mane. He reached out to try and wake the mare with a gentle touch on the shoulder, but his hoof met with an unyielding barrier and the familiar clang of metal. That little touch was all it took to cause the mare’s eyelids to snap open. Light brown met green as both ponies peered into each other's eyes. Grunting, she rolled over, revealing her silver and gold armor along with the large bloodstained gash across her chestpiece. “Apple Bloom.” His voice was soft, yet stern, offering no room for questioning. “Go and find Applejack. Tell her to get Miss Fluttershy over here.” When the sound of hooves beating against soil failed to reach his ears Big Mac whipped his head around and gave Apple Bloom a look that could blast the top off of a mountain. “Now!” he said louder, startling his sister into action. When he turned this attention back to the injured mare, she was trying to sit up. “Whoa, hold up now.” He nearly shouted in surprise. Rushing to her side and placing a hoof on her shoulder, he gently but firmly pushed her back down into a resting position. “You’re hurt, so you need to stay still.” She simply looked up at him, confused and disorientated, chest heaving in panic. She tried to fight his touch despite her bodies refusal to cooperate, her attempts at thrashing coming off more like a dog’s squirm than anything. Big Mac flashed her a disarming smile. “It’s ok… I’m not going to hurt you, miss. You got a name?” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ceased her struggles and let her body fall into rest. Her breathing slowed, terror being replaced by fatigue. He’d ask her for something. A name. She could at least give that before the unconsciousness came over her. “E-Elspeth...” > What Will You Do, Elspeth? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- What Will You Do, Elspeth? The flash of blades and beastial howling tore at her senses while images of everything from Valeron to Mirrodin sped through her mind, blurring into an indistinguishable gallery of emotionally charged situations. Elspeth knew what they were, but the glimpses she received were fleeting at best, barely allowing her to grasp the experience and leaving her feeling empty and cheated by each passing memory. Her mind retreated from the visions, trying to hide from their judging gazes. It was as if everyone she’d ever met was watching her at the same time, reprimanding her for her mistakes. “I fight until I either win or lose,” a strange, dark-skinned man stated sternly. His red, tattered waist-skirt flapped wildly as the scene changed swiftly around him. Crumbling mountains, fetid swamps, quicksilver seas, and verdant forests washed passed them, but it didn’t seem to deter the man. He extended a stone-covered hand towards her, watching the woman with uncertainty. “What will you do, Elspeth? Fight for what you want against all odds for eternity until you have that which you seek, or will you surrender to your trials and feign complacency in a situation that you do not truly desire?” She reached out, desperate to take hold of his arm. Something about his character exuded confidence and warmth. She just knew that he could be depended on to help her stay afloat even in the worst of times. Flesh touched living-stone, sending warmth through her entire body. “Koth!” The mare bolted up-right, nearly tossing the covers off of her. Just as quickly as the surge of strength came over Elspeth, it faded, leaving her body feeling heavy and her mind sluggish. She was no genius, but it didn’t take one to realize that something was very wrong. Though brighter and more vibrant, she had slightly more difficulty picking out fine details in the wood- grain floor of the room she currently occupied. Musical chirps entered Elspeth’s ears, relaxing her body with soothing melodic tones. Throughout her journeys, she’d never experience a sound as heavenly and clear as the nature around her at this moment. The mare’s ears twitched, swiveling on their own accord to find the source of the natural song. The only reason she was convinced that the birds weren’t in the room with her was the fact that their tweets, along with the rest of the ambient noise outside of the room, were slightly muffled by the walls. As her wonder faded, what had once been a dull throb in her chest struck with a vengeance, sending burning agony through her with each heartbeat. Her hooves clutched at the fur on her chest. Worrying about where she was or what had happened to her body became secondary to stopping the pain. It felt as if the flesh under her coat was trying to split open from the breastbone. Slamming her eyes shut, she silently prayed to whatever gods may be watching over to end it. Never had she endured anything like it, but she refused to cry out. The old door creaked loudly when it opened as if protesting passage across its threshold. The sharp screech had persisted since Sweet Apple Acres’ days of yore, back when the Apples thought that the hinge was fixable. Now, the noise was just accepted as one of the old farmhouse's many quirks. Even the pegasus entering the room rump-first didn’t pay the squeak any attention. Behind her, she dragged a small cart of supplies. Gauze, towels, and bandages were arranged neatly beside bags of cotton balls, a basin of warm water, and alcohol. On the cart’s lower shelf, covered by a tablecloth, was a meal of some sort. At least, that’s what Elspeth’s nose was telling her. A plethora of new odors assaulted Elspeth’s nose, overwhelming her faculties. Her eyes shot open the moment all of the different smells registered with her. She would have smelled the antiseptics and baked apples normally, but nowhere near as richly as she was now. It was like before now she’d lived life with cotton stuffed up her nose. A whiff of perfume mingled with everything else. Surprisingly, she could tell that the fruity scent was coming from the mare who’d just entered. Who was this pony? Was she the owner of the property? Elspeth bit back the urge to curl up into a ball, instead, forcing herself to be vigilant. In her current state, she doubted that any effort on her part could truly stop an attempt on her life, but she was not one to be caught with her back turned. Her guest grunted loudly, tugging one final time to bring the cart in. Fluttershy had never been a very savvy pony when it came to social situations. She was a mare of few words and many fears, and when one lives in a world where danger is around every corner (to her at least), you either develop your sixth sense or perish. Right now, that sixth sense was going off like a klaxon alarm. Slowly, she turned her head towards where the sensation felt the strongest. Elspeth stared intensely at the mare as if she could build an entire biography on her with nothing more than a glare. Fluttershy didn’t even give her charge a chance to look her in the face. Like any other pony, Elspeth was met with a quiet little “eep” and the sight of Fluttershy hiding behind her mane, shaking like a leaf. If it was deception, her enemies were damn good actors. “Oh my, she’s actually awake?” Fluttershy thought to herself. With the sort of injuries her patient had, she expected the mare to be asleep for at least a week. If anything, Elspeth looked like she was able to jump up and beat the stuffing out of her. “No, that’s not it.” It only took a second for her to read the stranger’s feelings. The body language said it all. Understanding ponies was no different than understanding her animals to Fluttershy, in some ways. The other mare’s chest heaved, and her body trembled; she tried so hard to hide it, to not look vulnerable, but it didn’t work on the experienced caretaker. Fluttershy managed to swallow the lump in her throat and looked directly at Elspeth. “You’re probably confused and scared right now; I know I’d be,” she said quietly as she moved closer to the bed. “But it’s safe here, on Sweet Apple Acres.” Her words rolled off of her tongue as gently as a cotton ball. Elspeth’s pulse slowed as her ears drank Fluttershy’s honeyed words. ‘It’s safe here’. The simple phrase was uttered with enough sincerity to end wars. It felt as if the mare had pulled her into the most comforting embrace possible. So comforting, in fact, that Elspeth hadn’t realized the pony had made her way over to the bed. In the split second that her guard was down, Fluttershy managed to fish a large pill and a glass of water off of the table behind her and present them both to Elspeth. “A-a painkiller. I shiver just thinking about the pain that your wounds are causing you.” Her whole body quivered. “My name is Fluttershy,” the mare stated, poking herself in the chest with a hoof. “My friend’s brother found you, injured, inside of their barn and called me over to help. That was three days ago...” She put on her best smile, but she couldn’t stop her legs from trembling. Now the warrior had a little bit of information about how she came to be where she was. This wouldn’t be the first time that Elspeth had woken up in the care of a healer. She’d seen all sorts in the past and figured that she had gotten pretty good at reading how individuals took their profession. It was a skill she’d developed out of necessity. She’d met liars and false healers; the creature in front of her was neither. Just a quick glance at Fluttershy told her everything she needed to know. The shaking mare’s mane and coat were slightly bedraggled, and she could see the beginnings of bags forming under her eyes; of course, she tried to hide it all beneath exceptional grooming, but there was no hiding the signs of a truly compassionate healer. Three days she had been unconscious, and Fluttershy had likely worried over her the entire time. Reluctantly, Elspeth took the pill from her. The moment she placed the tablet on her tongue, she was instantly certain of at least one fact: no matter where you were in the multiverse, medicine still tasted like a Rhox’s bum. Like every other pill she’d ever taken, it was dry, chalky, and probably would have choked her if she didn’t have the glass of water that she was somehow holding in her hooves. After taking a quick swig of water, the pill went down surprisingly easy and went to work almost as soon as she’d swallowed it. Icy numbness spread through Elspeth’s body as she relaxed and allowed Fluttershy to start the process of removing the bandages and redressing her wounds. Occasionally, she winced when the wrappings yanked a bit of fur out, but she was mostly in her own world. Fluttershy had started to calmly speak with her, but the attempts at conversation fell on deaf ears. All of these little details that she’d been paying attention to only served to cushion the two heaviest blows to her person. Once again, she had abandoned everything she held dear; another promising future for her turned to ash in an instant. But this time, there was an additional price for her transgression. She’d lost her human form. Now she truly had nothing, but Elspeth met the situation head-first with the grace and poise of a Knight of Valeron. At least that’s what she told herself. Instead of focusing on what she couldn’t control right now, Elspeth chose to turn her energies on an issue that had been slowly picking at her mind since Fluttershy stepped into the room. She still didn’t have a name for what she or Fluttershy was. While her wounds were being tended to, she took the moment to truly take in their appearances. They were vaguely similar to the horses she’d ridden on Bant, back when she fought alongside warriors like Rafiq or the pegasi of Theros. Yet that observation wasn’t entirely correct; it worked in the same way the common person might call spiders, leeches, and ants bugs, but used the logic of a child claiming that a caterpillar and a worm were the same thing. They had the basic form; however, their proportions were off. Compared to the horses and ponies that Elspeth was used to, their heads were more rounded and their faces were much more like those of a human’s, while their legs were strangely stocky. All she could really call them were ponies. Of course, the former human had been aware of her current situation since she’d woken up. Even before the fog of confusion slowly started to leave her mind, she’d felt wrong, like her body had been rearranged. Venser had talked to her about this briefly when they discussed compleation. Proprioception, the artificer had called it. He’d said that it was the ability to sense where body parts are relative to other body parts. It was through that awkward feeling of having her body assembled incorrectly that she knew something was wrong. A weak smirk inched its way across Elspeth’s muzzle. I can’t even begin to understand how this came to be. Is this some ploy of the gods or my personal Promised Land? The gods of Theros were usually reasonable, but they definitely had a fickle streak in them, and she wouldn’t put such a trick past some of them. But the deal she accepted from Erebos made a plot against her unlikely. This… this is not that bad. I can think of much worse things that I could have become. Much worse... ---*****--- The blast was like nothing Elspeth had ever experienced. Despite her current predicament-- waist deep in rocks and behind a recently erected stone barrier-- she still managed to nearly jump out of her armor. The cave rocked from the force. After such an explosion, she knew that what little safety the improvised wall was giving her would be short lived. Cracks snaked across the rock barrier in front of her, each thud from the other side both increasing the severity of the damage and reminding her of what was just beyond it. She could feel the Blind Eternities nipping at her skin, its energies waiting to pull her into the obtuse space between worlds. It always took her so long to perform a planeswalk, and now, she cursed that fact more than ever. The wall burst like an over-inflated balloon, spraying dust and stone in every direction. Elspeth could barely see through the grey cloud, but she didn’t need to. Its darkened silhouette and coiling tendrils were more than enough for her mind to fill in the blanks... ‘Just a few more moments… please,’ she silently pleaded to herself. She flinched, its blades prodding her prison. That minute movement was all the Phyrexian Obliterator needed to find her. Icy cold breath washed over her as it roared. This was the end-- ---*****--- Elspeth’s eyes shot open, her mouth releasing a quiet squeak as she jumped forward a little. “O-oh, I’m so sorry...” Fluttershy apologized meekly. “I must have poked a little too deep while stitching your wound.” “Its alright. I shouldn’t have been daydreaming.” Elspeth’s voice was coarse, as if she’d never used it before. Which was technically true, all things considered. Her right eye twitched when Fluttershy returned to her work. Within the second, she had sunk back into the recesses of her mind. Her trance was broken when when another mare entered through the creaking door. This one had, perhaps, the most vibrant orange coat that she’d ever seen and a decently kept blonde mane and tail. Elspeth’s gaze couldn’t help but be drawn towards the pony’s emerald eyes. While she couldn’t say that they were completely innocent, those eyes, like her caretaker’s, carried an amount of kindness that she’d rarely seen so openly expressed; but there was something else there as well. Worry. She was worried about what Elspeth’s appearance here meant. Fluttershy took a moment to look behind her and acknowledge the mare. “Ah, there you are, Applejack,” she greeted with a warm smile. “When you told me to continue up to the guest room, I thought that there may have been trouble.” “It’s nothing to worry over, Shy.” Her accent reminded Elspeth of that of some of the more worked members of society, what the learned would call peasant speak. Elspeth simply considered it the drawl of the common farmhand. Applejack straightened the brown stetson resting on her head. “So I see our guest is up and alert. That girl must have the sturdiness of an earth pony.” Elspeth watched as the two friends shared a brief laugh at her expense, but there was nothing malicious behind it. It wasn’t too difficult for her to start putting a few pieces together as she watched them. She was on Sweet Apple Acres, likely an orchard or farm of some sort, and chances were high that this Applejack mare was heavily involved with the running of the operation. Elspeth swallowed. “You had nothing to gain from helping me, and possibly everything to lose. Thank you. Both of you.” Applejack lowered her hat in an attempt to hide her smirk. “Well shucks, girl. What kind of ponies would we be if we had just left you to the elements?” “I don’t think I could ignore somepony who’s hurt, either,” Fluttershy admitted from behind her mane. Introductions were kept short, but were much more proper than her muttering her name and then passing out from weakness in their barn. Small talk was made between the mares of the usual variety. Elspeth mostly remained silent, though, only answering the occasional question sent her way, and only if she could answer without causing a stir. “So, um… where are you from? If you don’t mind answering.” “Far away.” “What does your name mean?” “Oath of gods.” “How did you… ya know...?” “A very long story.” Elspeth wasn’t new to the planeswalking game. She knew that if a name was given, they’d want specifics. With her limited knowledge the denizens of the plane she was on or how things worked in their society, telling her company that she’d been stabbed by the god of the sun could be the fastest way to find herself at the guillotine for all she knew. “What about friends and family? Do you have a special somepony?” Elspeth froze. The wording was strange, but context made the question clear. Did she? If she really had died, and Erebos had kept his end of the bargain, then Daxos was alive. He’d have a new life. A life without her. Would he wait for her to find a way back? What if she couldn’t return to her human form, would it be over between them? She didn’t know exactly what happened to the group she traveled Mirrodin with or where Ajani was, but those were some of the truest bonds she’d ever forged. If any of them were alive, it’d only be a matter of time until they came to grips with her death, slowly forgetting about her until nothing was left. “I...” Applejack registered the expression on her guest’s face and her rigid body language quicker, whereas Fluttershy failed to see a change. What the farmer saw play out before her was a scene she’d been the lead actress of countless times in the past. Like lightning, it was there, and then it wasn’t. Applejack only needed that fleeting glance to recognize the eyes of somepony who’d just dove into their heart in search of comforting memories of loved ones only to return holding nothing but a dark loneliness. Even though Fluttershy didn’t catch it, Applejack wasn’t surprised. Her friend may be the most empathic pony she knew, but she couldn’t catch everything, especially if one were as efficient and quick about hiding their emotions as Elspeth was. Her ears flattened against her head and she crossed her legs awkwardly. All of a sudden the specks of dust on the floor were much more interesting. “Y-you don’t have to answer that, Sugarcube.” Fluttershy looked between the two other mares, confused. With that pressed into Elspeth’s thoughts, Applejack had essentially killed all chances of addressing the elephant in the room. She sighed; it just wouldn’t be appropriate to keep at it after such a heavy moment. “Well, I’m glad that you’re fine, Elspeth.” Applejack smiled genuinely in an attempt to push past her faux-pas. “Feel free to stay here as long as it takes to get yourself together.” After nodding politely, she turned her attention to Fluttershy. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long. I know how your critters get when you don’t feed them on time. C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” she said as she walked to the door. “It was no trouble at all.” Fluttershy graced them with her smile. Elspeth couldn’t help but smile back. “Be sure to let Applejack know if you’re in pain or think you need help.” She leaned over and removed the tray from under the cart and placed it on a well-built and nicely polished oak nightstand that sat near the head of the bed. “Don’t push yourself,” she warned. Fluttershy waved timidly before exiting the room with her friend. Applejack’s head poked back through the closing door. “My brother will be up after dinner to get your dishes. Don’t hesitate to tell him if you need something. Take care.” The door clicked short behind her, leaving Elspeth to stare at the wood-grain barrier. “So, what held you up on the way inside, if you don’t mind me asking…” Elspeth heard Fluttershy’s muffled voice ask. The volume of their conversation slowly tapered off as they moved further away. Elspeth let her eyes fall on the covered plate. Now that things had slowed down, her stomach took the chance to make its needs known by rumbling loudly. If her stomach was trying to impersonate a landslide, it was doing a bang-up job. She may not be in a fight for the fate of an entire world, but the future was still uncertain for her. Koth gave good advice once and now felt like the perfect time to take it to heart. This world she was in, her new body, all of it; it was just a new challenge, another battlefield. What would she do when her back was against a wall and she’d hit an all time low, Koth once asked. She couldn’t answer him back then, when the world around her was in turmoil and she didn’t have the luxury of believing in tomorrow; however, now, with a clean slate and no chains tying her down, she reached down into the depths of her soul and found an answer worthy of the friend who asked the question. A smirk formed across her face as she turned to watch the evening sun. “I’m going to do what I’ve done my entire life: fight, persevere, and thrive.” > Try to Look Forward, Elspeth > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Try to Look Forward, Elspeth “So, what held you up on the way inside, if you don’t mind me asking?” Applejack’s face fell from the friendly smile she’d sent her friend off with to a more somber one that reflected her true state of mind. Like light reflected from a warped mirror, she felt wrong. Slowly, the hoof she’d been waving lowered to the ground. That question had forced her to bend one of her most sacred tenets: be truthful. Honesty was one of, if not, the most important aspects of the mare’s personality. While she hadn’t lied as much as she’d simply withheld choice details, Fluttershy hadn’t received a complete answer from Applejack, and in the farmer’s eyes, a lie of omission was still a flat-out lie. She sighed and adjusted her hat before turning tail from her friend’s cottage. Applejack chose a brisk pace for her return trip to the farm; any slower and she would have felt the urge to stop what she was doing and turn-tail back to Fluttershy’s with a pie on her back as a token of forgiveness. Fluttershy’s future mental health notwithstanding, Applejack still couldn’t completely shake off the chill that ran down her spine over her little white lie. “I can’t thank you enough for this, ‘Shy.” Applejack held the door open for her friend. “You’re risking a lot just by helping us. I kind of feel like we should, ya know, give you something...” Fluttershy stared at the mare for a moment then cocked her head to the side, confused. Like wilted leaves, her ears fell flat under their own weight. “Applejack… I’m disappointed. You know that I could never accept payment for this.” Now, it was the farmers turn to be addled. “We’ve been friends for almost four years. You know that I’m not doing this for you or me, but for that hurt mare upstairs.” Applejack sighed. “I know, but it’s just...” One of Fluttershy’s hooves found itself resting gently on her lips. When the farmhand let her eyes travel down Fluttershy’s foreleg, she found herself locking gazes with the blue of Fluttershy’s eyes. That cursory glance was all it took for the pegasus to inform her that she wouldn’t be budging on the issue. “Alright, alright. Sheesh, girl, I swear you’re the hardest pony to compensate that I’ve ever met.” The earth pony shook her head sadly, but such a half-hearted gesture couldn’t hide the small smirk on her face from Fluttershy. “Go on up to Elspeth’s room. I’ll be right behind you.” Giggling, the mare entered the house and left Applejack to her own devices. She made to follow, but, as if caught off-guard by the changing of seasons, she was hit with a sudden case of the chills. It was a primal feeling, a sixth sense. Years of living on a plot of land bordering the Everfree had drilled an understanding of this feeling deep into her mind; she was being watched. Applejack whipped around, instinctively searching out the cause of her paranoia. Nothing to her left; zilch to her right. Slowly, panic seeped into her mind. Like a cornered animal, she lowered herself into a defensive position. Whatever was skulking about wouldn’t take her without a tussle. She gulped, her dry throat feeling as if she were trying to swallow a sandy stone whole. Applejack bit back her apprehension and stepped off the porch; she would not be hunted on her own turf. Once clear of the porch, the mare took a quick look up at the clear skies… At least, the skies should have been clear if Ponyville’s weather schedule was to be believed. A single, large, white puff ruined the view of the great blue expanse above her. A grumble formed on her lips as she stared at the errant cloud. At this point, Applejack was asking herself why? Why leave that body of fluff over Sweet Apple Acres? That was when she saw it: the telltale rainbow-stripped tail hung limply over the side of the cloud like a damp rag on a clothesline. All of Applejack’s trepidation evaporated in an instant, quickly being replaced by annoyance. “Darn it, Rainbow! What are the hay do you think you’re doing!?” The Apple mare shouted to the heavens. No response. A devious smirk spread across Applejack’s face as she stalked closer to a bushel of apples. ‘Well, if you’re going to act like that.’ She took one of the fruits in her hoof and carefully sighted her target. The difference in elevation was drastic, but she didn’t let that discourage her. With a quick toss, the mare chucked the apple into the air. Not too high, though. It hovered at perfect bucking height briefly. Perfect. In that instant, Applejack whipped around, every muscle in her body moving in perfect harmony as if it were a well-oiled machine. Years of practice applied itself as hind hooves met red fruit in a demonstration of strength, accuracy, and finesse. “Buck!” Applejack heard a tomboyish voice cry from overhead. “Why’d you do that, AJ!?” The Apple mare smirked, clearly satisfied with her accuracy. “Well, if you’d have come down here when I called instead of trying to snoop all stealth-like, I wouldn’t have had to put the old Apple Family bucking skills to use on you. Now get down here!” Despite the distance between them, AJ could still hear the conflicted mumbling coming from her sneaky friend. She sniggered at her friend's expense. How Rainbow ever thought that she could spy on anyone was a complete mystery. Eventually, Rainbow glided down from her fluffy perch and stood face-to-face with Applejack. “Why?” “Why what?” The flyer asked, feigning ignorance. Applejack’s frown said all that it needed to. “Well, you see I… umm… I’m not going to be able to get out of this without spilling the beans, am I?” Applejack met Dash’s gaze with a glare and shook her head. The pegasus sighed, resigning to her fate. “Fine. I was worried, alright?” she admitted. “Worried? What’s there to worry about?” “C’mon AJ, Fluttershy told us about your ‘house guest’!” she snapped at her friend. Now it was her turn to glare. Applejack was taken aback by her friend’s sudden emotional outburst. For a moment, she stood stock-still, her face blank as she simply stared at the mare in front of her. After a moment, she took a calming breath smiled at her friend. “I know, Dash.” Rainbow rose her hoof to protest, but the argument died in her throat. “You… you know? You know!? So, you know that the strange, armored pony you took in could be one those rebels; that the mare you have Flutters playing doctor to could be a dangerous k-killer, and you didn’t tell anypony!?” she seethed. ‘Calm down’ is what Applejack wanted to say. However, even the farm mare knew to avoid giving emotional ponies such nonchalant-sounding answers. The rebels were a serious threat. As a filly, she remembered Granny Smith telling her stories of ponies who, even back then, were dissatisfied with the Princess’s rule. In the old Apple’s own words, it was a ‘Live and let live’ relationship. Lately, the rebels were gaining supporters and power, which lead to a shifted status quo the year after Twilight became a princess of Equestria. Rebel guerrillas had taken to raiding merchant convoys. At first, they were simple, little thefts, but soon, the threat began to escalate at an alarming rate. Thefts became hijackings. Hijackings became hostage situations. Hostage situations became executions. Entire towns became known as rebel hotspots overnight, and the general populace could do nothing but watch as the world they knew slowly unraveled at the seams. Equestrians, even her brother, called them monsters. The look of abject horror on Granny Smith’s face when she heard about the first open conflict between the rebels and the Royal Army was enough to reaffirm the gravity of the news. ‘They were good ponies,’ the elder mare said. And Applejack believed her. Neither Granny nor Big McIntosh held any ill will towards the mare. “Now, Rainbow, I kind of know what you’re thinking about all of this… I’ve had most of the same thoughts myself, bu--” “--Then why keep that pony here?” Dash interrupted. “Send the princesses a letter, and turn her over to the guard! Hay, at the very least, take her to Ponyville’s hospital and let them deal with her!” Applejack stomped her hoof. “Don’t you think I wanted to do that? Turning her over to Twilight, the Princesses, or the Hospital was my first instinct. Granny and Mac don’t want to leave the filly to the system though. I don’t trust her, but Big Mac trusts her, and I trust him.” The pegasus harrumphed. Her hard stare eventually wavered, replaced by a concerned looked. She gently placed a hoof Applejack’s shoulder. “Just keep an eye on that pony. The air hasn’t felt right since she got here,” Rainbow warned before backing off and taking to the skies. Thinking back on how little she’d actually told Fluttershy, AJ couldn’t help but scowl. It was true that Dash wanted to talk about the current state of inner Equestria. “Darn it Rainbow, why’d you have to come and muddy up my thoughts?” the mare grunted as she dragged her hooves through the dirt. The wooden stairs creaked with each step the massive stallion took. Big Mac winced as his heavy hoof-falls gave away his approach. Like frightened birds, the boards squeaked obnoxiously; anyone around would have instantly been alerted to his presence. He cursed silently; this staircase had gotten him in trouble more than a few times back when he was a colt. Many times had he carried a tray, as currently was, in an effort to sneak a midnight snack, only to be caught by an irate Granny Smith after she’d heard the loud sound-offs from the hallway. McIntosh shook the thoughts out of his head. After all, he was coming up here with a purpose. A purpose that he and Applejack had argued fiercely over. The stallion loved his sister with all of his heart, but sometimes he just wanted to take a hoof to her face. All he wanted to do was help with their charge, but his sibling felt the need to deny him the opportunity. She had claimed that he’d get emotional, that his judgment would have become impaired by assumptions on the nature of the pony in their care. It had taken an infuriating amount of effort for the stallion to convince her that he was over that. In the end, Applejack relented. That put a smile on his face. He was a stallion of few words, but every so often he could get the better of his more outspoken sister. It took only a second more for Big Mac to reach the door to the guest room Elspeth was occupying. Fluttershy and AJ hadn’t closed the door fully behind them when they exited. A thin stream of dark, orange sunlight poured through the sliver of space afforded by the crack in the door. Now Mac was faced with a choice: he could either peek in on Elspeth to see if she really was up to something nefarious or simply knock like a gentlecolt and wait for her approval to enter. He knew what the proper choice was, but curiosity was a heck of a drug. Right now, the stallion chose to throw caution to the wind and indulge the peculiar feeling in the back of his mind. From the other side of the door, he could hear faint grunts. It sounded as if she was frustrated. Then again, one look at her situation revealed plenty to be frustrated about. Mac leaned forward, his body rigid and his breathing slow. Bumping the door or dropping the tray could prove ruinous for him right now; what little trust was shared between her and the Apples could be shattered in an instant. Big Mac licked his lips and mentally prepared himself for anything. His eyes needed to squint to get a clear picture of what was happening within their guest room, but Big Mac’s vision managed to adjust just in time catch Elspeth face-planting against the wooden floor. The stallion winced but fought the urge to step in and help her up and instead opted to watch her rub at her muzzle and attempt to stand once more. Throughout her entire ordeal, his eyes never left her face. He’d seen that look so many times. It nearly tore him apart just watching it. Determination. Apparently, her injuries were worse than he had imagined. When Mac had seen her injuries in the barn, he easily discerned that it was a blade wound, but for it to affect her motor functions to such a degree… Mac slammed his eyes shut in an effort to fight back memories that he never wanted to experience again. Is this why AJ wanted to limit my time around Elspeth? He contemplated. Elspeth’s legs wobbled as she rose to her full height. The stallion knew that she would soon tumble to the floor again, but he didn’t dare interrupt her. He knew that this was something she needed to do on her own. Tentatively, the pegasus took a few uneasy steps while Big Mac watched silently. Though she stumbled a few times and looked as if she were going to quit with each hiccup, she persevered. He watched, full of anticipation as the pegasus rose again. This time, she made it a full lap around the room before collapsing onto her stomach. She tried to stand again, but Mac had seen enough. Earlier, Elspeth’s muscles had the strength, but she couldn’t coordinate them properly; now, she was exhausted and clearly strained by the effort it took to maintain her posture. She’d managed to get onto her hooves again, but another spill was fast approaching. “Whoa, careful there!” Big Mac called out as he swiftly entered the room. In an instant, he was beside Elspeth, his large body supporting her weakened frame. The tray he’d brought to collect her dishes was summarily forgotten in his wake. Elspeth growled and stiffened against him from the sudden contact, her coat bristling from his sudden, unwanted intrusion into her personal space. Big Mac liked to think that his voice would calm her. After all, his was the first she’d heard after her terrible spill. The stallion could feel her taut muscles loosen beneath her coat. His gambit paid off it seemed, in more ways than one, even. From just this contact, he could tell that she was athletic and similar in build to his sister or her friend Rainbow Dash. In Big Mac’s head, pieces of the of the puzzle fell into place, though he still wasn’t sure if his call to have her remain here instead of taken to the hospital was the right one or not. The fruits of that choice were in the future. Right now, he had an exhausted guest who needed help into bed. “I must look pathetic. Curse this body; why won’t it just do what I say!?” Elspeth growled, clearly frustrated with her condition. He remained silent as the mare climbed into bed. She had promptly refused any aid Big Mac tried to give before he had even offered. At the moment, pathetic wasn’t the word he would use to describe her. Brick-headed was much more appropriate, but he kept that opinion to himself. “Eenope,” the stallion answered as if it were the most obvious conclusion. “If that’s what you believe, I can rightly say that we must be thinking about two different mares.” Elspeth settled in bed and cocked her head at him. Instead of finding a spot under the sheets, the mare had opted to simply lie on her stomach in the center of the comforter. Every so often she shifted her legs around as if she didn’t know what to do with them until they eventually found themselves tucked in close to her body. She didn’t have to say anything. Mac knew that look that he was receiving all too well. After living in a house full of mares for most of his life, he’d picked up on their body language and right now, Elspeth’s eyes were saying “Explain yourself before my hooves find purchase on your face.” He took a small step away from the bed. “I saw you up and about not too long ago,” the farmer admitted. “I wasn’t trying to peek or nothing, just found it admirable; many ponies would be perfectly fine just lying around on their haunches and being waited on like a foal, even if the only thing wrong with them was a paper cut.” “There is nothing particularly admirable about that. Staying put isn’t something I’m well versed in.” Her ears splayed back against her head while she stared at the bedding beneath her as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world. Mac raised his eyebrows slightly. What was that inflection he’d just heard? Her tone near the end hung somewhere on the borders of hurt and disappointment. He couldn’t quite analyze it properly, seeing as he didn’t know her. “Honestly, I don’t know what was running through AJ’s mind when she figured keeping you cooped up in here would work.” He snorted indignantly. “You pegasi are a rowdy bunch; can’t sit still for ten minutes. Her friend is proof enough of that.” At the claim, Elspeth stared at him for a moment, her eyes slowly narrowing into a glare. “I have never had much of a choice!” she blurted out. Instantly her hoof flew to her mouth, but it was too late. She tried to look as small as she could by sinking down into the bed’s soft covers, but the red tinting her cheeks ensured that she stood out even more from the caramel-colored linens than before. Big McIntosh’s mouth hung open for a split second before he regained his composure. Strong as he was, the stallion could still prove himself to be a complete fool at times. He cursed himself for making such a tactless jape, especially since he was sure that he knew where she had run away from. “I-I shouldn’t have joked about that. I apologize.” Silence hovered awkwardly over the two ponies like a clumsy dare-devil making his way across a tight-rope for the first time. “I reckon can I speak with Applejack and Miss Fluttershy ‘bout letting you out into the fields. You were walking on your own, so you’re well enough to get some fresh air. How’s that sound?” Big McIntosh offered with a smile. Just the thought of an open sky above her head and verdant fields beneath her hooves sent a shiver down her spine. Her wings and hooves twitched in anticipation of the coming freedom from her cramped room. Her gaze migrated to the nearby window. Elspeth’s answer was quiet, almost a whisper. “I’d like that.” > What Is Your Purpose Here, Elspeth? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- What Is Your Purpose Here, Elspeth? Elspeth let out a relaxed sigh. Sweet Apple Acres was truly a refreshing sight. Light from a brand new day peeked over far-off mountaintops, yet still managed to land perfectly on the Apple Family's property. Every piece of perfectly polished fruit caught the light like an organic mirror. The shine was nearly blinding in its brilliance and awe-inspiring in its aura. Even from where she stood atop one of the farm's low, rolling hills, Elspeth could feel the overwhelming amounts of love and hard work her temporary suitors poured into the upkeep of their livelihoods. Dew clung heavily to the vegetation, giving the farm a healthy morning sheen. By noon Elspeth figured that the sun would evaporate the minuscule droplets and bring the farm up to what many would consider suffocating humidity. Having camped, trained, and fought in similar or worse environments, a day in the fields was a welcome taste of normalcy. Though that simply begs the question “What would be considered a normal experience for me?” the mare asked herself. I hop from world to world facing demons, undead, and all manner of rabble, guided by faith– she flinched, her thoughts dredging up painful memories of Heliod's betrayal– by honor… and by loss. Elspeth knew that her honor might demand that she return to Theros one day. The Solar Deity needed to pay for his actions and people deserved to know of Heliod's pettiness, but what good would it do? I have no doubts that Heliod has already labeled me, his champion, a heretic. Her frown deepened as she removed yet another plane from her ever-dwindling list of safe havens. Though it would be nice to have closure on that chapter of my life. Sighing, Elspeth all but resigned herself to the cruel, unending Wheel of Fortuna. Her wings hung limply at her sides. ...Am I a coward? How often have I run from a situation? What control over the finer details of her body she had was purely instinctual. With her snout brushing the moist grass and her ears folded back, there was no hiding her feelings. She'd already accepted the lose of Mirrodin and Heliod's reasoning while on her deathbed; now she was doing nothing more than projecting her anguish. I'm ruining such a beautiful morning. The only thing seemingly going right for Elspeth was her equine body's rapid recovery; normally, that would be a boon, but the mare feared that it would bring her unwanted attention. A sudden deep, woody thunk from confines of the methodically planted orchard below destroyed Elspeth's self-destructive line of thought and instead drew her attention to the source of the disturbance. The sound reminded her that it wasn't all bad. Despite being a complete– and possibly dangerous-- stranger, the Apples had been nothing but caring, while Fluttershy's help had been instrumental in getting her up and walking. Elspeth closed her eyes and drew a deep, calming breath. This new world around her held much more to offer than just mere sights. She already owed them so much, yet had nothing of value with which to pay her debt. Elspeth was never a woman to let a debt go unpaid, and her transformation into a mare would not change that. Shakey hooves carried her down the gentle slope, her pony ears simultaneously swiveling about in an attempt to pinpoint, what she recognized as the sound of hooves striking wood. Soon, Elspeth found her eyes being drawn to the bushels of crispy-looking, bright red apples littered purposefully about at the bases of several trees. A quick glance told her that these trees were as healthy as they could be, but there was also more. At her core, in some nondescript spot in her chest, she could feel a dull throb whenever she gave one of the trees her attention. However, the tighter she tried to grasp the strange feeling, the harder it became to isolate it, forcing the mare to direct the entirety of her focus on determining just what she was feeling. “Mornin’ miss Elspeth--” “--AH!” “I… I cannot apologize enough.” During her entire apologetic spiel, Elspeth’s head was so low that a far-off spectator could’ve mistaken her posture for grazing. Combined with her splayed back ears and tucked, dragging tail there was no fighting her body this time when it decided to wear her feelings openly. Big Mac gingerly nursed his split lip, occasionally touching a hoof his face only to recoil from the stinging pain. “And again, it’s fine,” he assured. “Ya got one mighty fine buck there, miss Elspeth. Only other pony who ever popped me that fierce was AJ,” the stallion admitted as he worked his tender jaw back and forth. Elspeth wanted to blame her fearful, skittish prey body for her reaction, but the mare just couldn’t bring herself to make such a weak excuse for hurting one of the people responsible for her recovery. “Come here, let me see,” she all but pleaded, her voice barely whisper as she reached out towards him. The stallion raised a hoof to protest, but the hollow look on Elspeth’s face sent his heart reeling. He’d seen that sunken, distant look on ponies before. Standing there, with her eyes glazed over, she looked like an entirely different mare. Her eyes, as he’d learned, were often looking outward, absorbing everything with cautious curiosity, but the look she wore now was one of solemn self-reflection. He quickly decided that it was not a look that suited one such as her. Reluctantly, Big Mac relented and presented his face to Elspeth. This is just like… back when I stabbed… Her hooves delicately traced the stallion’s slightly swollen face, taking great care around his injury. I couldn’t see what was real and I lost control. Elspeth’s face twitched, her muscles straining, fighting against an instinctual show of emotion. “How about ah show ya around?” “Yes, please. I’ve seen many farms in my travel, but I admit to understanding very little about how they actually make ends meet.” Despite Big McIntosh’s explanation (and demonstration) of how the farm operated with so few farmhands, Elspeth still couldn’t quite process where the Apple’s income came from. Big Mac had mentioned selling in the local town, but she really doubted that the gold from that market alone would be enough to fund such a large operation. Each tree Mac bucked only made things more confusing for the mare. Their tour of the orchard neared its end as the final apple trees on Mac’s route came into view. “Perhaps you’d like ta give it a shot?” He gestured towards the tree while smiling broadly at Elspeth. “Been buckin’ apples mah whole life ‘n I think ya got what it takes to finish off today’s haul.” The pegasus looked at the tree, then back to the stallion. His smile, while genuine, was also playfully goading. The slightly lop-sided nature his expression put it right on the edge of being a smirk from her perspective. She’d been the one anxious to get up and about, so he was offering her a way to work off some of that pent-up pegasus energy. To refuse would be incredibly rude, but accepting was a surefire way to make a fool of herself. “I’ll give it a try...” she answered hesitantly, rolling her shoulders as she trotted up to the grand apple tree. Elspeth’s muscles ached from days of bed rest. Now, more than before, she could feel the fatigue building in her body. The pegasus did everything in her power to keep her head and ears up, but the mounting rigidness and dull throbs of her joints cast a shadow over her confidence. She couldn’t tell if the tree was just larger than she had originally gauged or if it was all just her imagination projecting itself needlessly. Elspeth told herself that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, that this was just one of the first thought patterns she beat into submission as a knight of Bant. But her body wouldn’t listen. Unneeded adrenaline wracked her body with tremors, her wings twitched madly, and her eyes darted to every little sound in the world around them. No. She remembered. I’m in this pony form; I’m a prey animal. My fears, my anxiety… it’s all just fuel for my natural instincts to run away. Trembling, she positioned herself before her obstacle and took a deep breath. I am not afraid of this cursed tree; these damned heightened feelings will not ground me! Elspeth lowered her body and mimicked her companion’s stance as best as she could. She cast a quick glance towards the stallion. Big Mac smiled back reassuringly. Throwing caution to the wind, Elspeth coiled her back legs and let fly the stored energy in her limbs. Like powerful pneumatic pistons, her hooves crushed what was in their path and a surging heat cycled up through her body. The resounding crunch of bark echoed through the orchard. “Whoa, nelly...” Mac gasped. Elspeth failed spectacularly; not a single apple fell into the buckets. After traveling with Big MacIntosh through the orchard all afternoon, Elspeth had become intimately familiar with the sound of apples dropping into the high-quality buckets placed at the base of their trees. In a way, the silence was to her cathartic. She sighed, her entire body sagging. This really is a new beginning, isn’t it? I don’t even have my martial prowess. “Don’t worry ‘bout it none. Nopony gets it right the first time,” Big Mac encouraged as he trotted to Elspeth’s side. “How ‘bout’cha come to Ponyville with me? I could use some help at the market stall ‘n you can get acquainted with the town.” Her response, a barely noticeable nod, was enough for Mac. Elspeth didn’t even notice when the stallion stepped away and hitched himself to the cart loaded with today’s haul. He kept his partner occupied with small talk his warm, soothing smile never leaving his face. It was all he could do to keep her from looking back. Afterall, how was he supposed to explain to her that she’d almost vaporized the tree’s trunk? Hay, how was he going to explain it to Applejack? Twilight stomped about her study, each hoof-fall leaving behind a small spiderweb of cracks on the organic crystal floor. Her nostrils flared. She knew that she shouldn't vent on the mare before her. None of the was Rainbow's fault. The damages to the floor had already self-repaired by the time Twilight made another lap around the room. “I don’t like this, Rainbow,” she declared harshly. “And you think I do?” Rainbow Dash tossed her mane to the side. “Spying on AJ is horseapples, we both know that, but I’ve got my orders. First time since joining the Wonderbolts that I regret being one of the Readies,” she huffed. Rubbing her face with a hoof, Twilight sighed. She knew how hard this had to be on Dash. The Ready Reaction Force was created to be rapid response unit dedicated to handling domestic incidents. Applejack being at the center that kind of attention was disconcerting. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to vent on you. It’s just… have you at least learned anything useful?” “Hmm… kinda,” she started. “Applejack’s guest is named Elspeth; white pegasus mare, you can’t miss her. She was pretty heavily armored, but not armed at all. Wierd. She was messed up pretty bad, though. Heck, she could barely walk the last time I was at Sweet Apple Acres.” Rainbow winced as she recalled Elspeth’s injury. Twilight sank down to her haunches, her body losing its tension. “That helps a lot, Dash. Thank you.” “Oh, and the rebel states' minister will be meeting with the Princesses tomorrow.” “WHAT?!” Twilight cantered down into the castle’s laboratory, glad to have put her worries about her friend to rest. However, new concerns kept her from truly enjoying any peace Rainbow Dash’s intel could’ve given her. The mare needed to take her mind off of the mounting stress. The buzz of electricity combined with ozone stink met her a moment before she turned the final corner to her lab. She giggled quietly, knowing instantly what the presence of those two things meant. “Good afternoon, Spike!” Spike looked up from his work and slid his elegantly designed goggles onto his forehead. “‘Bout time you showed up, Twi!” he greeted, beaming at the mare as reached the last step. She beamed right back, her mood instantly soaring from his nonchalant attitude. “How’s work on that research project of ours going?” She took a seat next to him at the workstation, forcing him to scoot over and make space. “Work is such a harsh word, makes it sound like we don’t enjoy burning daylight down here,” he joked. Spike gestured towards the objects of Twilight’s curiosity. “Check it out. Nothing we did could get any sort of reaction out of them, but now… well...” Fascinating,Twilight thought to herself. Two teal orbs sat before the mare. Both pulsed in time with each other, their rhythm reminiscent of a heartbeat. From each, the mare could feel a slightly different thrum of magical power, giving the orbs their own identity distinct from one another. From one, Twilight felt a familiar warm hum, but the other… the alicorn wanted nothing to do with. When she and Spike first discovered the pair of strange items several nights ago, mistook them for nothing more than an anomaly or possibly somepony’s lost possession. Two perfectly spherical cuts of jade were not something one usually found on the ground. Their original plan was to turn over their findings to town hall; however, that course of action was violently ejected out of the window, in their minds, when the two stone started to glow a few nights ago. Since then, she and Spike had been side-by-side in a self-imposed research binge, barely stopping for anything short of important duties or personal upkeep. Within the crystalline walls of their castle, they toiled away, running through every magical experiment their genius minds could muster. Twilight sat to the young dragon's side, astonished by the thoroughness of her young ward's work. Years prior, though the best assistant she could ask for, Spike was still a child. He was perfectly organized when duty called and capable of drafting up missives with near perfect grammar on a whim, but like all children, he was messy and irresponsible. Outside of his duties, he was impulsive and capricious, yet, at times, brilliant for a one his age. Twilight looked between the expertly recorded notes and Spike. He was busy occupying his time by spinning around in his seat while making animate, electrically charged clouds and fire-rings. The mare chuckled, he hadn’t really changed all that much, now that she thought about it. Now his random bouts of hyperactive curiosity and whimsical play seemed to fuel impassioned research and study. Twilight never expected a day to come when Spike would be able to outpace her in matters of magic or science, but that day had come and gone. Beyond that, she was spending every moment she could spare just looking at Spike. The prior five years had been rough, mostly due to his mysterious disappearance for almost three and a half of them. Spike had grown during the time he went missing. Before he'd been just a little taller than a filly or a colt, but now Spike stood almost an entire head over Twilight. His once cute, rounded spines were now thin blades that were every bit as deadly as they were intimidating. Replacing his stubby muzzle and chubby, kissable cheeks was an elongated maw filled to the brim with powerful flesh-rending, gem-grinding teeth. Alongside his physical changes, his mana pool had also swelled. Twilight couldn’t accurately describe the feeling that Spike’s mana instilled within her; it was ice cold, yet burned the edges of her senses. His magic was like bottled lightning: pure, erratic, uncontrollable power; directed, but never commanded. Deeper still, she could feel as something at the dragon’s core reached down, deep into what their world’s leylines, not unlike a tree’s roots into the earth, and drank of its mana. That was something else she had to get used to with the new Spike. His age. It was always easy to forget that the dragon was only four years younger than her back when he was the same height as kindergarten-age foals. It was still a challenge to wrap her mind around all of the changes. Surprisingly, she had the hardest time coming to grips with what should have been the easiest to swallow development. Spike knew magic, and it just didn't make any sense to her. She could handle his newfound need to constantly be cloaked in elaborate red, blue, and gold pleather long-coats, but a dragon casting magic as easily as a unicorn was mind-blowing to the mare. “Well I don’t quite understand what’s going on, so, when all else fails, just go for it!” Spike shouted excitedly as if it were some sort of universal tenet. The young dragon exhaled a stream of dragon fire into the palm of his right hand, coating the appendage in a wild, swirling mass of blue and red energies. Lavender hooves ran through the oily, unkempt mess that Twilight’s mane had become since the start of their experimenting binge. She took a second to remove a few offending bangs from her face as she grunted in irritation. “Spike, we can’t just start throwing magic around on a wing and a prayer!” Twilight shouted. What she had failed to realize was that the orbs were slowly rolling towards the edge of the table. “Hmm...”